Mardi Gras Madness Read online

  But Robert would spoil it too, she thought angrily. She had to choke back a laugh as she envisioned Robert and his Cousin Harriet trying to get into the spirit of Mardi Gras. It just wouldn’t do.

  “Perhaps Robert won’t go,” Ethel said slowly. “He’ll probably consider it all the sheerest nonsense, and refuse to have any part in it.”

  “Oh no. He won’t refuse me. I’ll make him see how much it means to both of us. And this is just the best season for a little vacation from the farm. I know he’ll go if I ask him.”

  “All right, Babs. You know best.” Ethel spoke resignedly.

  “Come on.” Barbara jumped up and tugged at Ethel’s arm. “I’ll go ask mom while I’m all keyed up about it. She’ll think I’m insane … but she’ll have to let me go … and dad will if she does.”

  “All right.” Ethel arose and followed her uncertainly from the room. She had a funny feeling that things wouldn’t work out as smoothly as Barbara buoyantly predicted. But she kept this thought strictly to herself as Barbara preceded her to the cool living room where Mrs. Dorn was engaged with some mending.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh mom!” Barbara called gayly. Then she hesitated in the doorway and Ethel saw her shoulders straighten a trifle. “Oh! I didn’t know you were here, Cousin Hattie.”

  “Come in, dear.” Mrs. Dorn’s voice was plaintively agreeable. “What have you two girls been doing with yourselves?” she asked placidly as Barbara caught Ethel’s hand to squeeze it quickly before entering the room.

  “We’ve been making plans.” Her voice was more decided and less gay than it had been before she discovered Hattie.

  She and Ethel entered to be greeted sternly by Cousin Hattie. Hattie was always stern. She had Principles … and Morals. A tall, gaunt woman, with thin hands and a faintly yellowish complexion. She wore a severe black dress which buttoned up the front tightly to her neck.

  She had kept house for Robert and his father since Mrs. Sutler had died in Robert’s infancy. She thought it her Duty. And her feeling of Duty had held her at the farm to care for Robert when his father died. She had never married … because of her feeling of Duty … as she often sternly boasted.

  Barbara had always been just a tiny bit afraid of Hattie. Her eyes were cold, and she was not one to mince words when her sense of Duty called upon her to point out the Path of Righteousness to those who did not conform to her narrow ideals.

  There had been a growing feeling of antagonism between Barbara and Hattie since Robert had announced his engagement to her. Barbara knew that Hattie thought she was too frivolous to make Robert a good wife. She knew this because Hattie had told her so … lengthily and with no quibbling.

  Barbara always tried to be pleasant to her, though it was sometimes quite a strain to do so.

  “How are you this afternoon, Cousin Hattie?” she asked as she and Ethel found seats on the old lounge on the other side of the room.

  “As well as may be, I suppose.” Hattie sniffed … three times in rapid succession. She always sniffed three times when anyone inquired about her health.

  “That’s nice.… Robert didn’t come with you, did he?” Barbara strove to keep the conversation going while her mother’s needle flashed industriously and Ethel moved restlessly.

  “Of course not!” Hattie snapped. Her nose wriggled dolefully. “Though he’ll be along in a minute, I’ll be bound,” she went on. “I often tell him I don’t know what’ll happen to his dear father’s farm, what with him traipsing over here to make lovesick eyes at you with every turn of the clock.” She sniffed again … very audibly.

  “I don’t think Bob neglects the farm for me.” Barbara smiled at her. She was determined to pay no heed to Hattie.

  “Mom,” she said, turning to her mother. “I want to ask you something.”

  “Very well, dear.” Mrs. Dorn did not look up from her sewing.

  “Ethel wants me to visit her next Sunday.” Barbara kept her eyes resolutely turned from Hattie’s face. “She’s going home tomorrow, and she’s just been begging me to come in Sunday to stay for a few days. Would you mind?” She bent forward eagerly, her hands clasped and her body tensed.

  “So that’s what you two’ve been cooking up?”

  “Uh-huh.” Barbara laughed happily. Her mother’s voice had been indulgent. That meant she would let her go. She felt Hattie’s glance of stern disapproval, but she would not look at her. “Do you mind, mom?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Well, now, I … I’m sure I don’t know,” Mrs. Dorn said slowly. She bent over her sewing, and her face puckered as she bit a thread off.

  “Please, Mrs. Dorn.” Ethel spoke quickly. “I’ve told mother and dad so much about Babs that they’re just dying to know her. Mother insisted that I bring her back with me.”

  “That’s very nice I’m sure,” Mrs. Dorn said placidly.

  “Then I can go, mom?”

  “Well now, we’ll have to see. Could you get ready by Sunday?”

  “Humph.” Hattie was distinctly disapproving. “If you ask me, I’d have something to say.”

  “But no one has asked you, Hattie.” Mrs. Dorn spoke mildly, still bent over her sewing.

  “Folks will turn up their noses at good advice … and so much the worse for them,” Hattie commented acidly.

  “Wouldn’t you rather wait till a little later? Maybe you could have a new dress or so if it wasn’t so sudden.” Mrs. Dorn smilingly ignored Hattie.

  “But we’ve got it all planned,” Ethel insisted anxiously. “I do so want her to come Sunday.”

  “How long would you plan on staying?”

  “Only for a few days, mom.” Barbara arose and went to her mother’s side. “You will let me go?” she asked softly.

  “Well, I … think it will be all right.” Mrs. Dorn patted her daughter’s hand. “We’ll talk it over with your father.”

  “What about Robert?” Hattie broke in. “Have you told him about this wild notion of chasing all over the country? Do you think he’ll approve?”

  “You can hardly call it chasing all over the country,” Barbara laughed merrily. “After all, I just want to go to New Orleans for a little visit. There’s really nothing terrible about that.”

  “Humph,” Hattie sniffed. “You don’t know the wiles of the city like I do, young lady.” She pursed her lips firmly, and her face seemed to say that she had explored the dregs of sin in the gutters of countless cities.

  A smile glimmered on Barbara’s lips as she turned demurely to her mother. “You’re sweet to let me go,” she said emphatically.

  “That’s fine,” Ethel breathed ecstatically. “We’ll have a wonderful time, and I promise to take good care of her, Mrs. Dorn.”

  “And who’ll be taking care of you?” Hattie questioned acidly.

  Ethel turned to her with a sharp retort surging to her lips, but Barbara forestalled her.

  “Girls don’t need as much taking care of as you seem to think,” she said quietly. “They’re much better able to take care of themselves than they were in your youth.”

  “In my youth, indeed?” Hattie drew her thin shoulders up and her lips quivered.

  “I just happened to think, dear,” Mrs. Dorn said as Barbara started to turn to Ethel. “Perhaps this wouldn’t be the best time to make a visit to Ethel’s. Aren’t they having some sort of celebration in New Orleans?”

  “Why! Are they, Ethel?” Barbara grinned at her roguishly.

  “I … I think they are. Some … some sort of celebration …” Ethel echoed faintly. Her hand went up to her face to conceal a laugh. Mardi Gras! And these people wondered if there wasn’t some sort of a celebration going on in New Orleans. It seemed fantastically unreal.

  “There! That’s it! I knew there was something,” Hattie declared triumphantly. “I knew it’d come to me if I thought hard. Do you know what these giddy girls are planning?” She turned to Mrs. Dorn with a sternly pointing forefinger. “Mardi Gras,” she said ominously. “That’s
what’s going on in New Orleans.”

  “Why … it isn’t time for Mardi Gras, is it?” Mrs. Dorn looked up helplessly.

  “Suppose it is?” Barbara defended. “Is it so terrible that I want to see a little gayety and festival?”

  “A carnival of lust,” Hattie said impressively. “That’s what it is. I’ve read about it many times. A season of drinking and carousing and lecherous pleasures of the flesh. And that’s why you want to go to New Orleans! To join the godless throng that wallow in the sensual fleshpots!” Her lips smacked over the words as though she found a certain pleasure in their utterance.

  “That’s a shameful thing to say.” Ethel jumped to her feet angrily. “The Mardi Gras is nothing but a period of rejoicing and good time. It’s none of the things you say about it!”

  “Hmm. Perhaps not.” Hattie surveyed her coldly. “But I’m sure it’s not a time Robert would want his fiancée to be visiting in New Orleans.”

  “Of course not, dear,” Mrs. Dorn put in nervously. “I didn’t realize it was Mardi Gras time. Of course we couldn’t let you attend that. A strange city … and you alone.…” her words trailed off inconclusively.

  “But you’ve already said I could go,” Barbara wailed.

  “You got her consent by trickery,” Hattie pointed out harshly. “You concealed your true purpose.”

  “You hush up!” Barbara whirled on her angrily. “You talk as though I’d fall at the first temptation. You make everything sound nasty and hateful.” She dropped to the lounge and sobbed helplessly.

  “Well I never!” Hattie ejaculated. She stood up and her eyes glittered spitefully. “I’ve never been so insulted in all my born days. Robert shall hear of this.” She swept coldly from the room.

  No one spoke until the front door was heard to slam.

  “You shouldn’t have lost your temper,” Mrs. Dorn said evenly.

  “Well, I don’t care,” Barbara sobbed. “She’s hateful and mean. It just breaks her heart to think of anyone having a good time. She’s nasty-minded and prudish! I’m glad I told her.”

  “She’s Robert’s cousin, and she’s always done her duty by him,” Mrs. Dorn pointed out.

  “I know. That’s all I’ve been hearing all my life,” Barbara exclaimed. “She’s always prating about her duty. She just isn’t human any more.”

  “Really, Mrs. Dorn,” Ethel broke in tactfully. “Isn’t this an awful tempest in a teapot? You folks don’t really know anything about Mardi Gras. It’s truly a religious festival, you know.”

  “I’ve heard differently.” Mrs. Dorn was unmoved.

  “But that’s all hearsay,” Ethel insisted. “It’s just all good, clean fun. Purely amusement. Everybody lets go and laughs during Mardi Gras. It isn’t sinful to laugh.”

  “Perhaps not,” Mrs. Dorn agreed. “But we’ve all heard different tales of the scandalous carryings-on.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Brinkley and Ethel seem to live through it every year,” Barbara said desperately. “And I’m sure there must be plenty more who can have a good time without doing anything wrong.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” Mrs. Dorn murmured helplessly. “We’ll wait till your father comes in, and see what he says.”

  “Come on.” Ethel jumped up and led Barbara toward the door. “Let’s go outdoors for a while,” she urged.

  “All right.” Barbara followed her listlessly.

  “Don’t lose your nerve,” Ethel said angrily. “You knew they’d object. But they’ll let you go if you insist.”

  “I don’t know. I just wonder if it’s worth it.” Barbara paused by the front door. Then her face lighted up. “There comes Bob,” she breathed. “With him to back me up, they’ll have to let me go.”

  “Yeh. With him backing you up,” Ethel agreed dubiously.

  “Let me go talk to him,” Barbara proposed. “I can tell him better alone.”

  “Okay,” Ethel said briefly. She pushed Barbara through the door. “I’ll start getting some of my things together,” she said as she turned away. “They’re scattered all over the house.”

  Barbara ran blithely to the edge of the porch and down the steps. Robert was just turning in the front gate, walking purposefully.

  She ran down the path to meet him. “Hello,” she called. “Sure you’re not neglecting your farm on my account?” She took his hand and led him toward the hammock swung in the shade of a giant tree.

  “I probably am,” he admitted with a sigh. “Cousin Hattie says I’m letting it go to rack and ruin.”

  “Oh, Cousin Hattie!” Barbara made a little face. She drew him down beside her in the hammock and smiled at him.

  “See here,” Robert said uncomfortably. His hands were clasped tightly and his strong body seemed to repel her. “What’s the matter with you and Cousin Hattie?” he questioned miserably. “I just met her as she was going home. She seemed terribly upset … said you’d insulted her.”

  “I just told her the truth,” Barbara said gravely.

  “But … what was it all about?” he persisted.

  “Suppose I said she insulted me?” Barbara asked him evenly.

  “I don’t understand. Did she insult you? How? Why?”

  “She certainly did!” Barbara’s eyes snapped angrily. “She intimated that I couldn’t be trusted away from home … and acted as though I were a shameful hussy just because I want to go visit Ethel in New Orleans to see the Mardi Gras festival.”

  There. It was out. She closed her lips firmly and stole a glance at Robert’s face. It was grave, and told her nothing. He stared at the ground thoughtfully.

  “She’s been awfully good to me,” he said quietly.

  “But Bob!” Barbara grasped his arm fiercely. “Let’s not let her come between us,” she begged. “I’ll apologize to her if you want.”

  “What’s all this foolish talk about Mardi Gras?” he asked slowly. “Of course, you don’t mean that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well I … you’re not interested in that sort of thins, are you?”

  “Why not?” Barbara’s face was white. “Why shouldn’t I be interested in life … in youth? I … I don’t want to be old and grim like Cousin Hattie,” she whispered savagely.

  “Of course not.” Robert stared at her in dismay. “But there’s just a certain kind of girls that get out on the streets during Mardi Gras,” he went on, avoiding her gaze. “You’re not that sort.”

  “How do you know I’m not?” she questioned vehemently. “How do I know I’m not?”

  “Why.…” He shook his head helplessly. “I thought you were satisfied here. I didn’t know you wanted that other sort of thing … froth … nothingness,” he added bitterly.

  “Bob.” Barbara slipped her arm about his shoulders and spoke yearningly. “I want you to take me to Mardi Gras,” she whispered. “I want us to see it together … before it’s too late. Let’s do something with our youth. Let’s not sit and watch it fade away to dreary memories.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Robert sat erect angrily. “Ethel’s been putting fool notions in your head.”

  Barbara drew back with a hurt look. “Oh, Bob,” she breathed softly, “is it ridiculous to want something more than we have now? I feel life is slipping from between my fingers. I want to clutch it … hold on to it … for just a little time.” Her eyes were starry as she gazed across the fields softly lighted in the twilight.

  Robert moved uncomfortably. He didn’t understand Barbara. And he spoke resentfully because he didn’t understand her.

  “That’s nonsense,” he said shortly. “I’m satisfied to work my fingers to the bone to make a home for you.”

  “That’s all you think of.” Barbara’s voice quavered. “Work! Drudgery! You don’t see any of the loveliness of life. Youth is such a fleeting thing,” she pleaded passionately. “Let’s take this one glorious vacation together … for my sake!”

  She leaned against him and drew in her breath sharply. With all her soul she will
ed that he might understand … and respond. She felt utterly shameless. She drew his head down to her breast and held it there crushingly.

  The strange desires she had known before arose about her as phantoms. She did not repel them now. She welcomed them. His hot breath through the thin dress beat upon her breast tormentingly.

  She hardly knew what she did as her hand caressed his cheeks, his lips … pressing down the thin garment so his lips might be upon the soft swell of her girlish bosom.

  She held him thus for an eternity. Passion crept down and encircled her loins with glowing fire. Surely he would feel it. Surely the gods would bring him understanding.

  Robert lifted his head and drew away from her stiffly. He spoke huskily. “Pull up your dress. It’s not decent for it to be so low in the neck.”

  Barbara shivered and huddled away from him. That’s what her flesh had meant to him? Indecent exposure! A wave of cold terror swept over her. That passed … leaving her rigid and determined.

  “You haven’t said whether you’d go or not,” she reminded him.

  “I’ve told you it’s utter foolishness.” His face was cruel. “Let’s not discuss it.”

  “Then you won’t take me?” She held her voice steady.

  “Of course not,” he exclaimed impatiently. “And I think you’ve been seeing too much of this Ethel, too. I’ll be glad when she’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t approve of Ethel.” Barbara spoke frigidly. She slipped off the hammock and stood before him. “I’m going to visit her Sunday,” she said gravely. “And see if I can find the beauty I’m seeking in the Mardi Gras.”

  “No you’re not.” Robert’s voice was steely. “I’ll not let you thrust yourself into anything like that.”

  “You won’t let me? I asked you to go with me and you refused. So I’ll go alone.”

  “No you won’t, Babs.” Robert was inexorable.

  “How are you going to keep me from it?” she flamed at him.

  “I forbid you to go,” he said heavily. “After all … you’re wearing my ring, you know.”