The Morning After Chapter : 2

Claire stood there in her misty bridal veil, smiling. Her brown hair waved softly about her face, her white skin shone like the petal of a gardenia, her cheeks were pink and her curved lips were red as cherries. In her hand she carried the scroll as a bride carries a prayer book.

She saw Rubye fall back, gaping. She turned to James Harvey Nash.

His gray eyes were filled with amazement, yet they held hers, searching, asking. His mouth was stern, but as she smiled at him she saw it relax. They stood there looking at each other, and in that instant Claire knew that her life had changed. Whatever came to her of happiness or unhappiness would come through this man.

As this flashed through her mind, a noise in the hall brought her back to the present. She spoke to him rapidly. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll get you out of this.”

“Say—” began Rubye, but James pushed her to one side. “What must I do?” he asked Claire.

“There isn’t time to explain,” she said. “You and I will parade down the hall to meet the photographers and newsmen, first.”

The sound of voices was clearer now. James hesitated a moment; then he held out his arm to her. She put her hand in the bend of his elbow and they started down the hall together.

They faced the flash of cameras, the questions of reporters; then Claire, guiding James by the pressure of her hand, walked serenely down the stairs to the street. As they started along the sidewalk crowds began to follow them. After all, a bride in a long veil, a man in a dress suit, at eight-thirty in the morning!

Presently James turned and looked at Claire. “I don’t want to presume, nor be too inquisitive,” he said, “but—are we getting married? It would be nice to know.”

Claire laughed. “I’m a publicity expert,” she answered.

They reached the West Department store at last. Claire stopped, turned and faced the cameras and reporters, with James beside her, smiling now. She unrolled her scroll. The newsmen gasped, then laughed good-naturedly as they read:

Let the Bride’s Shop plan your trousseau.

James looked at her. “Thanks for rescuing me,” he said, and his eyes paid her tribute.

“Goodbye.” Claire turned abruptly to go into the store. Yes, she had rescued him. For what? For the doll-faced girl of the Sunday supplement. She must remember that. She must keep on getting the right answers.

He put out his hand. “Don’t go yet. Can’t we go somewhere and talk? I’d like to thank you where we have a little more privacy.”

“Don’t bother.” He belonged to another world. He belonged to another woman.

“But you can’t go like this,” he protested. “Have dinner with me this evening? Dance afterward?”

For a moment Claire hesitated, but his eyes were holding her, asking; and she knew then that whatever he asked of her she would give.

“All right.” She nodded. “Phone me later.” And she trailed up the store aisle, to the Bride’s Shop.