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“Well, tell me,” Barbara insisted.

“The Widower Simpson,” Ethel said gravely.

“The Widower Simpson?” Barbara repeated in bewilderment. “Simpson? I don’t think I know...”

“Don’t you remember the man on the train? The one we picked up at the depot? With the two darling kids?”

“Oh yes. Of course. They said he wanted to find a new mammy for them... one that would let them come to Mwada Gwa every year.” Barbara laughed merrily. “Do you suppose?” she asked laughingly, “that he selected Cousin Hattie for their new mammy?”

“Sonia said they were stepping high, wide, and handsome,” Ethel observed. “It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Stranger things have happened during Mardi Gras.”

“Oh, let’s drive by and see them,” Barbara said impulsively. “I’ve been meaning to see how they got along. Maybe we can find out something about Cousin Hattie and Bob.”

“All right. It’s right on the way home. We’re almost there now. Gee, I’d like to have seen Hattie last night.”

“Can you imagine her?” Barbara marveled. “She’s so strict and strait-laced. How on earth do you suppose she met Mr. Simpson?”

“That will probably always remain one of life’s minor mysteries,” Ethel responded. “I’d say the hand of God had a part in it. Here we are,” she added, making a sudden turn and stopping before a neat wooden house.

“And there’s Boots and Buddie,” Barbara called gayly.

The children were playing in the yard, and recognized Barbara at once. They ran toward the car as it stopped, and crowded on the running board.

“Having a good time?” Barbara asked them.

“Oh yes!” Boots elected herself spokesman. Her face was clean and it shone like a full moon. “On’y daddy sent us home early las’ night an’ nen didn’ come home till this mornin’,” she said accusingly.

“My, my. Did he stay out all night?”

“Yes, an’ he tol’ us not to tell nobody.”

“So you’re telling everyone you see?” Barbara asked merrily.

“Tell her ’bout the lady.” Buddie poked his sister urgently.

“Oh yes.” Boots hastened to impart the tremendous news. “Daddy tol’ us not to min’ ’cause he found the beutiful lady las’ night what’s gonna be our new mammy. An’ she’s awful purty an’ awful nice an’ she says we kin come to Mwada Gwa every year,” Boots ended triumphantly.

Barbara turned to look at Ethel, and they both burst into laughter.

“Where’s your daddy now?” Ethel asked as Barbara continued to laugh helplessly.

“He went down to get the lady,” Boots said sturdily. “An’ he’s bin gone an awful long time. He promised he’d be home befo’ night.”

“Ooooh! Dere he comes now!” Buddie shouted mightily as a taxi turned the corner and rolled up to stop beside the other car.

It was indeed the Widower Simpson. A rejuvenated Widower Simpson. And no longer a widower. For he proudly gave his arm to the new Mrs. Simpson as he alighted from the cab.

Barbara and Ethel both stared in silent consternation as Boots and Buddie flung themselves upon their father and their new mother.

Hattie did not see the two girls in the automobile. She was on her knees, gathering the two children to her starved bosom.

It was Hattie, though Barbara felt she might not have recognized her had she not been prepared to see her. Her features were actually soft as she bent over the two children. Her spare form did not seem ungainly in the gathering twilight.

Barbara touched Ethel lightly on the arm as they stared at the strangely moving scene.

“Drive on,” she said huskily. “Let’s not bother them now. Mardi Gras has been... good to all of them.”

She wiped away a tear as Ethel drove smoothly away. She looked back at the group and saw them mistily. It seemed to her that she glimpsed something of the power of Mardi Gras. Something of the spirit of the festival which has kept it alive for more than a century. Mardi Gras had wrought its wonder upon those four. They were encompassed in peace and certitude as the festival ended.

Barbara prayed blindly that she might find that same peace and certitude before the chimes tolled at midnight. For it was brought to her that Mardi Gras is essentially a spiritual cleansing; a release from the bonds of fleshly pleasure; that in giving way for a brief period to the unrestrained enjoyment of worldly lusts the soul is made ready for the greater peace of spiritual understanding.

To-night... she and Bob must seek that greater understanding together.

Chapter Twenty

“Tell me about the dance to-night,” Barbara said eagerly. They had finished dinner and were dressing for the ball. Barbara was in Ethel’s room, and both were clad only in sheer underthings as they completed their toilets.

“It’s an annual affair,” Ethel told her, frowning as she applied a final sheen to her nails with a buffer. “About five hundred are usually invited. Next to the Rex and Comus balls it’s considered the high spot of Mardi Gras. Brierly Manor is one of the show places of the city. A huge old Colonial house set in a beautiful grove of trees.”

“Will everyone be masked?” Barbara was carefully rouging her lips before the mirror.

“Oh yes. Masked and costumed. They have prizes for the prettiest costume, and for the most fantastic. I went last year and it was the most gorgeous affair I ever saw. Much prettier and nicer than the Rex ball... I think. The setting and decorations are so wonderful.”

“Tell me about it.” Barbara’s eyes were shining as she turned away from the mirror.

“There’s one huge ballroom inside. And they have two dancing pavilions out under the trees. It’s like fairyland: Myriad strings of colored lights swaying from the branches, beautiful formal gardens, rustic nooks, and dark corners, and shadows...” Ethel spoke ecstatically. Her eyes held memories of the ball a year previously.

That was where she had met Frank. There had been a rustic nook... and shadows.

“It sounds... intriguing.” Barbara spoke hopefully.

“Intriguing? Wait until you see it. But tell me all about this afternoon. You haven’t spilled a word about what you and Frank did. And when did you see Sonia? Exactly what did she tell you?”

“Frank and I spent a quiet afternoon at home,” Barbara said demurely.

“At whose home?” Ethel interjected.

“At. Frank’s. We had lunch... and talked.”

“Yes, yes,” Ethel murmured. “Go on. You didn’t talk all afternoon.”

“No,” Barbara admitted with a rush of color, “we didn’t.”

“Ah.” Ethel looked at her keenly.

“Oh, I don’t know how to tell you,” Barbara said. “But somehow, my experience with Frank opened my eyes. It was... as though I had been looking at a mirage and suddenly encountered reality.”

“And what did you... see?”

“I saw that I love Bob. That I’ve always loved him. And I saw how splendid and wonderful our love will be now that we’ve both learned how much more there is to it than we knew.”

“What did Frank think about the result of your... experiment?” Ethel kept her tone light for she saw Barbara was deadly serious.

“Oh, he understood,” Barbara cried with shining eyes. “I think that’s the most wonderful part of it. He drove me to Sonia’s so I could tell her about Bob and ask her for a chance to win him back to-night.”

“Hmmm. How did Sonia take that?”

“She was awfully nice. I... I was afraid of her at first. She... looked so strange. But she understood.”

“And she offered to turn Bob back to you as soon as she’s through with him? Very magnanimous of her.” Ethel’s voice was tinged with scorn.

“But she... she promised to send him away from her to-night,” Barbara protested. “She won’t have a chance to see him again before the dance. I think it was wonderful of her.”