CHAPTER II

AN INDOOR TEMPEST

"IF YOU'RE broke," said Starrett, leering," why don't you marry your cousin? "

Carl Granberry stared insolently across thetable.

"Pass the buck," he reminded coolly. "Andpour yourself some more whiskey. You're onlya gentleman when you're drunk, Starrett. You'resober now."

Payson and Wherry laughed. Starrett, notyet in the wine-flush of his heavy courtesy,passed the buck with a frown of annoyance.

A log blazed in the library fireplace, stainingwith warm, rich shadows the square-paneledceiling of oak and the huge war-beaten slab oftable-wood about which the men were gathered,both feudal relics brought to the New York homeof Carl Granberry's uncle from a ruined castlein Spain.

"If you've gone through all your money,"resumed Starrett offensively, "I'd marryDiane."

"Miss Westfall!" purred Carl correctively."You've forgotten, Starrett, my cousin's nameis Westfall, Miss Westfall."

17

18 Diane of the Green Van

"DianeI" persisted Starrett.With one of his incomprehensible whims, Carl

swept the cards into a disorderly heap andshrugged.

"I'm through," he said curtly. "Wherry, takethe pot. You need it."

"Damned irregular!" snapped Starrettsourly.

"So?" said Carl, and stared the recalcitrantinto sullen silence. Rising, he crossed to thefire, his dark, impudent eyes lingering reflectivelyupon Starrett's moody face.

" Starrett," he mused, "I wonder what I eversaw in you anyway. You're infernally shallow

and alcoholic and your notions of poker are asdistorted as your morals. I'm not sure but Ithink you'd cheat." He shrugged wearily. "Getout," he said collectively. "I'm tired."

Starrett rose, sneering. There had been asubtle change to-night in his customary attitudeof parasitic good-fellowship.

"I'm tired, too!" he exclaimed viciously."Tired of your infernal whims and insults.You're as full of inconsistencies as a lunatic.When you ought to be insulted, you laugh, andwhen a fellow least expects it, you blaze andrave and stare him out of countenance. AndI'm tired of drifting in here nights at your beckand call, to be sent home like a kid when your

An Indoor Tempest 19

mood changes. Mighty amusing for us! Ifyou're not vivisecting our lives and charactersfor us in that impudent, philosophical way youhave, you're preaching a sermon that you couldn't-and wouldn't- follow yourself. And then youend by messing everybody's cards in a heap andsending us home with the last pot in Dick Wher-ry's pocket whether it belongs there or not. Itell you, I'm tired of it."

Carl laughed, a singularly musical laugh witha note of mockery in it.

"Who," he demanded elaborately, "who everheard of a treasonous barnacle before? A bar-nacle, Starrett, adheres and adheres, parasite tothe end as long as there's liquid, even as youadhered while the ship was keeled in gold. Nev-ertheless, you're right. I'm all of what you sayand more that you haven't brains enough tofathom. And some that you can't fathom is tomy credit-and some of it isn't. As, for in-stance, my inexplicable poker penchant for you."

To Starrett, hot of temper and impulse, hisgraceful mockery was maddening. Cursingunder his breath, he seized a glass and flung itfuriously at his host, who laughed and movedaside with the litheness of a panther. The glasscrashed into fragments upon the wall of themarble fireplace. Payson and Wherry hurriedly

20 Diane of the Green Van

pushed back their chairs. Then, suddenly con-scious of a rustle in the doorway, they all turned.

Wide dark eyes flashing with contempt, DianeWestfall stood motionless upon the threshold.The aesthete in Carl thrilled irresistibly to hervivid beauty, intensified to-night by the angryflame in her cheeks and the curling scarlet of herlips. There were no semi-tones in Diane's darkbeauty, Carl reflected. It was a thing of sableand scarlet, and the gold-brown satin of her

gypsy skin was warm with the tints of an autumnforest. Carelessly at his ease, Carl noted howthe bold eyes of the painted Spanish grandeeabove the mantel, the mild eyes of the saint inthe Tintoretto panel across the room and theflashing eyes of Diane seemed oddly to convergeto a common center which was Starrett, whiteand ill at ease. And of these the eyes of Dianewere loveliest.

With the swift grace which to Carl's eyesalways bore in it something of the primitive,Diane swept away, and the staring tableau dis-solved into a trio of discomfited men of whomCarl seemed but an indifferent onlooker.

"Well," fumed Starrett irritably, "why inthunder don't you say something?"

"Permit me," drawled Carl impudently, witha lazy flicker of his lashes, "to apologize for mycousin's untimely intrusion. I really fancied she

An Indoor Tempest 21

was safe at the farm. Unfortunately, the housebelongs to her. Besides, your crystal gymnas-tics, Starrett, were as unscheduled as her arrival.As it is, you've nobly demonstrated an unalter-able scientific fact. The collision of marble andglass is unvaryingly eventful."

Bellowing indignantly, Starrett charged intothe hallway, followed by Payson. Presently theouter door slammed violently behind them.Wherry lingered.

Carl glanced curiously at his flushed and boy-ish face.

"Well?" he queried lightly.Wherry colored."Carl," he stammered, "you've been talking

a lot about parasites to-night and I'd like youto know that-money hasn't made a jot of dif-ference to me." He met Carl's laughing glancewith dogged directness and for a second some-

thing flamed boyishly in his face from whichCarl, frowning, turned away.

"Why don't you break away from this sort

of thing, Dick?" he demanded irritably. " Star-

rett and myself and all the rest of it. You'resapping the splendid fires of your youth andinherent decency in unholy furnaces. Yes, Iknow Starrett drags you about with him andyou daren't offend him because he's your chief,but you're clever and you can get another job.

22 Diane of the Green Van

In ten years, as you're going now, you'll be analcoholic ash-heap of jaded passions. What'smore, you have infernal luck at cards and youhaven't money enough to keep on losing so heav-ily. Half of the poker sermons Starrett's beengrowling about were preached for you."

Now there were mad, irreverent moments whenCarl Granberry delivered his poker sermons withthe eloquent mannerisms of the pulpit, save, asPayson held, they were infinitely more logicaland eloquent, but to-night, husking his logic ofthese externals, he fell flatly to preaching an un-adorned philosophy of continence acutely at vari-ance with his own habits.

Wherry stared wonderingly at the tall, lithefigure by the fire.

"Carl," he said at last, "tell me, are you hon-estly in earnest when you rag the fellows soabout work and decency and all that sort ofthing?"

Carl yawned and lighted a cigar."I believe," said he, "in the eternal efficacy

of good. I believe in the telepathic potency ofmoral force. I believe in physical conservationfor the eugenic good of the race and mental dom-inance over matter. But I'm infernally lazy my-self, and it's easy to preach. It's even easier tocreate a counter-philosophy of condonance andindividualism, and I'm alternately an ethical ego-

An Indoor Tempest 23

ist, a Fabian socialist and a cynic. Moreover, I'ma creature of whims and inconsistencies andthere are black nights in my temperament whenJohn Barleycorn lightens the gloom; and thereare other nights when he treacherously deepensit-but I'm peculiarly balanced and subject toirresistible fits of moral atrophy. All of whichhas nothing at all to do with the soundness ofmy impersonal philosophy. Wherefore," witha flash of his easy impudence, " when I preach, Imean it-for the other fellow."

Wherry glanced at the handsome face of hiserratic friend with frank allegiance in his eyes.

Carl flung his cigar into the fire, poured him-self some whiskey and pushed the decanter acrossthe table.

"Have a drink," he said whimsically.Dick obeyed. It was an inconsistent supple-

ment to the sermon but characteristic."Carl," he said, flushing under the ironical

battery of the other's eyes, "I don't think I un-derstand you - "

Carl laughed."Nobody does," he said. "I don't myself."