“Don’t be silly, Babs.” Ethel seized her arm exultantly. “You’d be the talk of the town. If you’ll come up Sunday I’ll guarantee that you’ll not have a single quiet moment until the chimes of the St. Louis Cathedral toll midnight and the beginning of Lent on Tuesday night.”
“It sounds... alluring.” Barbara spoke hesitantly.
“It’s more than that. It’s necessary.” Ethel spoke quickly. “The reason I’m so insistent is because this will be your last chance to take life in your two hands and squeeze the happiness out. You’re going to marry Robert this fall. Do you know what that means?”
“Of course I know,” Barbara defended herself quickly. “I love Bob. I’ve looked forward to marrying him for the last eighteen years at least.” She laughed shakily. “Marrying him will mean the beginning of life for me.”
“Perhaps so.” Ethel spoke grimly. “I grant that Bob is a swell fellow. And you’re in love. So what? I’ll tell you what,” she went on fiercely:
“You’re going to marry him without the slightest idea of what it’s all about. You think you love him. All right. Perhaps you do. Enough to settle down to everlasting drudgery? Enough for that?”
“Yes,” Barbara replied with shining eyes. “Enough for that if necessary. But it won’t mean that. Bob is going to get ahead. We’ve purposely waited to see how some of his experiments turned out. He’s going to make Belle Glade a model farm. He’s not going to be like the ‘piney-woods’ farmers that try to grow the wrong things on the wrong soil. Bob has five thousand dollars in the bank right now.” She stared at Ethel defiantly.
Ethel shook her head sadly. “It must be love,” she acknowledged. “But, even at that. You’ll start having babies. Don’t deny it. I’ll bet you’re looking forward to it.”
“Why not? I wouldn’t want to be married if I couldn’t have babies. Bob feels the same way.”
“No doubt,” Ethel assented dryly. “All men do. They don’t have to bear them, nor wash diapers, nor stay up all night when they have colic, nor get sloppy and old and wearied with caring for them.”
“Don’t, Ethel.” Barbara spoke quietly. “You’re making fun of the most wonderful thing in life.”
“Forgive me.” Ethel spoke quickly. “I know how you feel. And I think you’re damn lucky. Bob is a prince and I know you’ll be happy. That’s not what I meant. You do admit that marriage is going to tie you down and change you.”
“Perhaps. But I want to be tied down,” Barbara cried passionately.
“All right. Marry him. I’m not trying to talk you out of that. But have your one grand fling at life for the good of your immortal soul while yet there’s time. You’ve never in your life busted loose... given free rein to your natural impulses with no thought of consequences, have you?” Ethel looked at Barbara shrewdly.
“Why... no. Perhaps not.” Barbara moved uneasily.
“There you are. That’s what I mean.” Ethel pressed her advantage relentlessly. “You deserve that. Even more important... your future deserves it.”
“My future? What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. Bob is just like you. Neither of you know what it’s all about. You two marrying will be like a couple of babes in the wood. I bet you’ve never... really necked, have you?” Ethel stared at her keenly.
“No!” Barbara’s face was flushed. “I think necking’s cheap and common.”
“Not even with Robert?”
“No. Robert’s not that sort.”
“My God!” Ethel spoke wonderingly. “Just what sort of a saint is Robert?”
“Well, he certainly doesn’t think of that sort of thing in connection with love.”
“See here.” Ethel faced her squarely. “Just what sort of thing does he think of? When he kisses you, for instance?”
“Why he... he’s very tender and sweet always.”
“And you mean to say that he never thinks of passion... of your body?”
“Of course not!” Barbara spoke indignantly.
“And you? You don’t either?” Ethel would not be denied.
“No. That is I... I try not to.” Barbara’s face flamed scarlet and she turned away from Ethel’s searching eyes.
“You poor kid.” Ethel’s arm went about her wonderingly. “Why not? Why shouldn’t you? Love isn’t to be denied. Love should be glorious; hurting, and stabbing, and devouring! Gee, Babs. You’re in a tougher spot than I thought. You’re so damned repressed that it’s pitiful.”
“I... I...” Barbara started to sob.
“See here.” Ethel turned her gently to look into her face. “Let me get this straight. You’re young and passionate, and you love Bob? You have all the natural desires of a girl, but you’ve kept them submerged because you think they’re shameful? That correct?”
“Yes.” Barbara nodded her head. “I get frightened sometimes when I’m with Bob. Queer, shameful thoughts seem to take possession of my mind and I can’t shake them off.”
“They’re not queer or shameful.” Ethel shook her impatiently. “You need to be psychoanalyzed. And Bob needs some plain words spoken to him. Both of you need to wake up and learn the facts of life.”
“Oh I... I sometimes think I’ll go mad.” Barbara smiled. A distorted and painful smile.
“You need to rid yourself of a whole pack of inhibitions,” Ethel told her decidedly. “When I first started urging you to visit me for Mardi Gras I didn’t know just how much you needed it.”
“Do you really think that would help?”
“Of course. Exactly the course of treatment you need. Get away from the farm and this sticky environment. Be yourself! That’s the whole secret of Mardi Gras. Every person ought to do it at least once a year. Meet some new people and find out what life really means. Then you can come back and marry Robert with memories to carry in a secret place that’ll tide you over a lot of rough spots.”
“Almost... you convince me.”
“Of course you’re convinced. This one gesture will mean more to you than all the years you’ve stagnated here. You’ll come back with something to gloriously color your entire future. I mean it, Babs.” Ethel spoke solemnly. “We all wear masks during the Mardi Gras. The world looks different from behind a mask. You’ll drop all your accumulated fears, and for once in your life you’ll be guided by the voice of impulse instead of the bonds of reason. You need this experience.”
“Perhaps I do.” Barbara spoke slowly. Her face was alight and her hands clutched nervously. Before her eyes was a vista of a city at play. She, a masked member of a pleasure-mad half million. Her breath came faster.
Barbara had never played. Her father and mother loved her, but they did not approve of play. They had never played. All her life she had been taught that light laughter was wicked, and joy a part of the devil’s temptation.
Then she thought sadly of Robert. He, too, needed a new experience. Perhaps as much as she. For Robert had known nothing but toil all his life. They had grown up together on adjoining farms, had been sweethearts since grammar-school days. Then Robert had worked his way through agricultural college, grimly intent on doing better with the farm than his father had done. Mr. Sutler had died two years previously, leaving Robert an orphan. Since then he had drudged tirelessly to prepare a place for Barbara.
Robert’s dear face came between her and the vision of a kaleidoscopic Mardis Gras festival. She turned to Ethel impulsively.
“If I could only persuade Bob to go with me,” she tried. “Wouldn’t it be too wonderful for words if he’d go too, so we could see it all together?”
“Hmmm. Let’s see...” Ethel considered swiftly. Robert would upset many of her plans for Barbara if he tagged along. Ethel conceded that engagements might be all right, but a farmer fiancé would certainly be in the way during Mardi Gras.