“Bob? Oh yes.” Frank swallowed quickly. His eyes flickered about nervously and did not meet Barbara’s. “I... I’m sure he won’t recognize you,” he said with attempted lightness.
“Where is he?” Barbara asked the question tensely.
“See here, dear.” Frank took her hand gently. “You’re sure you want to go through with this mad scheme? Certain you want Bob after... after all? You... won’t reconsider?”
“Isn’t he here?” Barbara asked wildly. “Is that what you’re trying to say? Tell me! Tell me!”
“He’s here,” Frank said tonelessly. “He and Sonia are out on the porch. Sonia told me what she had promised you... and I stayed here to find you and take you to her.” He hesitated and wet his lips. Words of love came surging to his lips. But he beat them back. His lips twisted sardonically as he considered his predicament. For the first time in his life he had found a meaning to love. He felt like a stammering schoolboy as he faced Barbara’s splendid beauty. His lips trembled with a sudden avowal of his love. But he did not speak. He saw in her eyes that his love was hopeless. Her beauty and the maidenly wonder of her body were all for another. His own love seemed coarse and unworthy in the light of dawning hope which flamed from her eyes as she understood Bob was near.
“Come.” He felt wearied and disillusioned. He linked his arm in hers and led her toward the dimly lit porch.
Barbara did not speak again until they faced Sonia and Bob as they stood apart from the others on the porch. Her heart was too full for words. She understood Frank’s unspoken meaning, and she understood the gallantry which prompted him to remain silent and take her to Bob.
It seemed to her that the whole world was more radiant with the happiness of knowing that she and Bob were to be brought together again. It seemed to her that all of the Mardi Gras Festival had been arranged unerringly to bring about this consummation.
She pitied Frank, yet in her heart she knew he should not be pitied. She had done well if she had taught him love. He would forget the girl who taught him... but he would not forget the new meaning which love gave to life. Both she and Frank had gained in the interchange. Both would carry away something from the experience which would make their lives more complete.
She drew in her breath happily as she saw Sonia and Bob dimly outlined against the lights from the grove. Her hand stole into Frank’s... to give and receive comfort as they advanced toward the couple.
Sonia was in gypsy costume. All flamboyant colors and radiating a self-assured boldness which fitted the masquerade she had assumed.
But Barbara’s eyes went quickly to Bob as she and Frank halted before him. He had elected to wear his old clothes and a battered straw hat. A “piney-woods” farmer from the sparsely settled districts upstate.
The straw hat shaded his face so Barbara could not see him very well. But a great surge of pity swept over her as she noted his drawn cheeks and pitiably grim mouth.
Mardi Gras had hurt him. Terribly. Had wrought changes upon his body and his soul which could never be wholly effaced. Flashingly, Barbara saw herself as entirely to blame. The fault was hers, and she knew she would sacrifice the remainder of her life to ridding him of the memories Mardi Gras had given him.
“Allow me.” Frank was bowing gracefully and his voice came to Barbara as though he spoke from a great distance.
“May I present you to the Comtesse Du Barry?”
Sonia’s breath was quickly indrawn, and she regarded Barbara queerly. She did not move, but a violent antagonism seemed to flow from her. She made a protective motion toward Bob, but Barbara checked her calmly.
“Thank you.” She did not forget her new rôle, and she automatically assumed the voice she had chosen for the part.
She swayed toward Bob and grasped his hand in hers. It felt cold and lifeless. She wanted, desperately, to warm it, to fire him with the same flame which flowed through her veins.
“Shall we dance?” Her face was very close to Bob’s, and she willed with all the strength of her youth and love that he should follow her.
Bob hesitated listlessly and half turned toward Sonia.
Barbara moved closer to him and lifted his hand to place it on the smooth flesh of her back where the material did not come together.
“Come with me,” she whispered huskily in his ear. Her body was against him and the vital force of her love was communicated to him. She felt him tremble, and she knew she had won the first engagement with the forces which had cast their net about him.
He turned to Sonia: “You don’t mind?”
Sonia shrugged her shoulders elaborately. “No,” she said quietly, “I don’t mind.”
Barbara moved away, holding tightly to Bob’s hand. She must face the bright lights of the ballroom, and her heart almost failed her. Suppose he should recognize her before she had an opportunity to break the spell which held him?
But Bob solved that problem for her. “How about dancing outdoors?” he muttered thickly. “Cooler out here and not so crowded.”
“All right.” Barbara did not trust herself to say more. Hand in hand they went down the steps toward the colorful dancing pavilion.
Frank cleared his throat and stared after them. “Lucky kids,” he muttered with a queer huskiness in his tone. “They make me feel a hundred years old.”
“Shut up, you damn fool,” Sonia snapped at him. “Give me a handkerchief quick... and if you ever tell anyone you saw me cry... I’ll... I’ll shoot you.” The last words were muffled as Frank handed her a handkerchief and slipped his arm about her shoulders comfortingly.
Chapter Twenty-two
Barbara had often danced with Bob before. But this experience was different from anything they had known together. A subtle enchantment seemed to enwrap them. Bob wore an extremely brief mask. Only a narrow strip of black across his eyes. Barbara watched him covertly as they danced together. His listlessness departed as she swayed her lissome body more securely against him. Unwillingly his eyes took on a new gleam as they discovered her beauty.
The first dance was ended, and they stood close together as they waited for the music to resume the dance. Barbara’s fingers touched Bob’s as they hung at his side, and she grasped them fiercely.
He looked down at her with a little smile and his lips twitched. Not with merriment. Hungrily. Hopefully.
Barbara smiled up into his eyes, letting her cheek rest against his chest as she offered herself with that smile.
Bob seemed to understand. Barbara felt his muscles tense themselves, and he drew in a deep breath.
Then the music started again.
They swung into the dance wordlessly. This time they were more an entity, and Barbara’s heart sang with happiness as he pressed her close with ruthless strength.
She was shamelessly glad that Ethel had insisted she wear this costume. She knew that as they danced Bob’s eyes were fixed upon the smooth swell of her breasts, and she knew he was fired with aroused passion by their beauty. A week ago she would have hidden away in shame had any man looked upon her so.
But that was a week ago.
A new Barbara wore the Comtesse Du Barry costume tonight. A Barbara fully aware of the voluptuous allure of her body, and determined to exert every charm endowed upon her by nature to win her lover back to her arms. Some of her happy certitude was communicated to Robert as they danced. A smile replaced the stiffness of his features. His hand moved tentatively lower on her back.
Barbara’s lips were upturned to his, and were breathlessly offered. A long kiss did not disturb the rhythm of the dance. But it set both their pulses on fire, and it whispered to them both that kisses were better given and received in the darkness.
“Let’s beat it,” Bob said suddenly. “I’ve danced enough.”