encountered Gilbert, Myra and their parents from time to
time, there had never been a word about Clyde. Indeed all
the information she had gathered concerning him was that
originally furnished by Mrs. Griffiths, who had said that he
was a poor nephew whom her husband had brought on
from the west in order to help in some way. Yet now, as she
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viewed Clyde on this occasion, he did not seem so utterly
unimportant or poverty-stricken by any means—quite
interesting and rather smart and very attractive, and
obviously anxious to be taken seriously by a girl like herself,
as she could see. And this coming from Gilbert’s cousin—a
Griffiths—was flattering.
Arriving at the Trumbull’s, a family which centered about
one Douglas Trumbull, a prosperous lawyer and widower
and speculator of this region, who, by reason of his children
as well as his own good manners and legal subtlety, had
managed to ingratiate himself into the best circles of
Lycurgus society, she suddenly confided to Jill Trumbull,
the elder of the lawyer’s two daughters: “You know I had a
funny experience to-day.” And she proceeded to relate all
that had occurred in detail. Afterward at dinner, Jill having
appeared to find it most fascinating, she again repeated it
to Gertrude and Tracy, the younger daughter and only son
of the Trumbull family.
“Oh, yes,” observed Tracy Trumbull, a law student in his
father’s office, “I’ve seen that fellow, I bet, three or four
times on Central Avenue. He looks a lot like Gil, doesn’t
he? Only not so swagger. I’ve nodded to him two or three
times this summer because I thought he was Gil for the
moment.”
“Oh, I’ve seen him, too,” commented Gertrude Trumbull.
“He wears a cap and a belted coat like Gilbert Griffiths,
sometimes, doesn’t he? Arabella Stark pointed him out to
me once and then Jill and I saw him passing Stark’s once
on a Saturday afternoon. He is better looking than Gil, any
day, I think.”
This confirmed Sondra in her own thoughts in regard to
Clyde and now she added: “Bertine Cranston and I met him
one evening last spring at the Griffiths’. We thought he was
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too bashful, then. But I wish you could see him now—he’s
positively handsome, with the softest eyes and the nicest
smile.”
“Oh, now, Sondra,” commented Jill Trumbull, who, apart
from Bertine and Bella, was as close to Sondra as any girl
here, having been one of her classmates at the Snedeker
School, “I know some one who would be jealous if he could
hear you say that.”
“And wouldn’t Gil Griffiths like to hear that his cousin’s
better looking than he is?” chimed in Tracy Trumbull. “Oh,
say—”
“Oh, he,” sniffed Sondra irritably. “He thinks he’s so much.
I’ll bet anything it’s because of him that the Griffiths won’t
have anything to do with their cousin. I’m sure of it, now
that I think of it. Bella would, of course, because I heard her
say last spring that she thought he was good-looking. And
Myra wouldn’t do anything to hurt anybody. What a lark if
some of us were to take him up some time and begin
inviting him here and there—once in a while, you know—
just for fun, to see how be would do. And how the Griffiths
would take it. I know well enough it would be all right with
Mr. Griffiths and Myra and Bella, but Gil I’ll bet would be as
peeved as anything. I couldn’t do it myself very well,
because I’m so close to Bella, but I know who could and
they couldn’t say a thing.” She paused, thinking of Bertine
Cranston and how she disliked Gil and Mrs. Griffiths. “I
wonder if he dances or rides or plays tennis or anything like
that?” She stopped and meditated amusedly, the while the
others studied her. And Jill Trumbull, a restless, eager girl
like herself, without so much of her looks or flair, however,
observed: “It would be a prank, wouldn’t it? Do you
suppose the Griffiths really would dislike it very much?”
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“What’s the difference if they did?” went on Sondra. “They
couldn’t do anything more than ignore him, could they? And
who would care about that, I’d like to know. Not the people
who invited him.”
“Go on, you fellows, stir up a local scrap, will you?” put in
Tracy Trumbull. “I’ll bet anything that’s what comes of it in
the end. Gil Griffiths won’t like it, you can gamble on that. I
wouldn’t if I were in his position. If you want to stir up a lot
of feeling here, go to it, but I’ll lay a bet that’s what it comes
to.”
Now Sondra Finchley’s nature was of just such a turn that a
thought of this kind was most appealing to her. However, as
interesting as the idea was to her at the time, nothing
definite might have come of it, had it not been that
subsequent to this conversation and several others held
with Bertine Cranston, Jill Trumbull, Patricia Anthony, and
Arabella Stark, the news of this adventure, together with
some comments as to himself, finally came to the ears of
Gilbert Griffiths, yet only via Constance Wynant to whom,
as local gossips would have it, he was prospectively
engaged. And Constance, hoping that Gilbert would marry
her eventually, was herself irritated by the report that
Sondra had chosen to interest herself in Clyde, and then,
for no sane reason, as she saw it, proclaim that he was
more attractive than Gilbert. So, as much to relieve herself
as to lay some plan of avenging herself upon Sondra, if
possible, she conveyed the whole matter in turn to Gilbert,
who at once proceeded to make various cutting references
to Clyde and Sondra. And these carried back to Sondra,
along with certain embellishments by Constance, had the
desired effect. It served to awaken in her the keenest desire
for retaliation. For if she chose she certainly could be nice
to Clyde, and have others be nice to him, too. And that
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would mean perhaps that Gilbert would find himself faced
by a social rival of sorts—his own cousin, too, who, even
though he was poor, might come to be liked better. What a
lark! At the very same time there came to her a way by
which she might most easily introduce Clyde, and yet
without seeming so to do, and without any great harm to
herself, if it did not terminate as she wished.
For in Lycurgus among the younger members of those
smarter families whose children had been to the Snedeker
School, existed a rather illusory and casual dinner and
dance club called the “Now and Then.” It had no definite
organization, officers or abode. Any one, who, because of
class and social connections was eligible and chose to
belong, could call a meeting of other members to give a
dinner or dance or tea in their homes.
And how simple, thought Sondra in browsing around for a
suitable vehicle by which to introduce Clyde, if some one
other than herself who belonged could be induced to get up
something and then at her suggestion invite Clyde. How
easy, say, for Jill Trumbull to give a dinner and dance to the
“Now and Thens,” to which Clyde might be invited. And by
this ruse she would thus be able to see him again and find
out just how much he did interest her and what he was like.
Accordingly a small dinner for this club and its friends was
announced for the first Thursday in December, Jill Trumbull
to be the hostess. To it were to be invited Sondra and her
brother, Stuart, Tracy and Gertrude Trumbull, Arabella
Stark, Bertine and her brother, and some others from Utica
and Gloversville as well. And Clyde. But in order to
safeguard Clyde against any chance of failure or even
invidious comment of any kind, not only she but Bertine and
Jill and Gertrude were to be attentive to and considerate of
him. They were to see that his dance program was
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complete and that neither at dinner nor on the dance floor
was he to be left to himself, but was to be passed on most
artfully from one to the other until evening should be over.
For, by reason of that, others might come to be interested
in him, which would not only take the thorn from the thought
that Sondra alone, of all the better people of Lycurgus, had
been friendly to him, but would sharpen the point of this
development for Gilbert, if not for Bella and the other
members of the Griffiths family.
And in accordance with this plan, so it was done.
And so it was that Clyde, returning from the factory one
early December evening about two weeks after his