Bedelia by Vera Caspary Read Free Book Online Page B

to examine the black pearl. Charlie, usually observant, could have sworn he had never noticed the ring until that night, but Bedelia had assured him that she had been wearing it all that week. Charlie had reflected upon the scene, analyzed his emotions and blamed his bad temper upon the flash of jealousy which burned when he saw his wife’s hand in Ben’s.
    â€œWhat a prig you are,” Abbie said, not knowing she salted a wound. “And how like my dear Aunt Harriet. I can just hear your mother, Charlie. ‘I do not like to see a member of my family decked out in artificial jewelry.’” The mockery was precise. Abbie had caught the quality which had made the late Mrs. Horst such an annoying woman.
    â€œAll right, I’m a prig. I acknowledge it and I’m sorry.”
    â€œYou were right,” Ellen said. “I detest artificiality in anything.”
    â€œOf course he was right,” Bedelia added. “Everyone has a right to his own taste, and Charlie’s is so much better than mine that I could never be comfortable wearing anything he dislikes.”
    â€œBravo!” Abbie shouted. “A truly feminine speech, and how much more successful”—she addressed this to Ellen—“than any of your feminist attitudes.”
    â€œMy wife is an unusual woman,” Charlie boasted. “Instead of reproaching me, as most wives would, she gave the ring away.”
    â€œGave it away! Not really!” shrilled Abbie.
    Ben’s face tightened.
    â€œGave it away because I didn’t like it,” Charlie said.
    Bedelia lowered her eyes modestly.
    Abbie said, “I’d never have given it away. But that’s the difference, I suppose, between a successful wife and a failure like me. If I ever marry again, I’ll come to you for advice, Bedelia.”
    â€œThank you, Abbie.” Bedelia straightened her ruffles. On herright hand gleamed Charlie’s Christmas gift, the gold ring set with garnets.
    For dessert they had mince pie. Charlie was not given any; Hannah brought him a custard. That, of course, was Bedelia’s doing. She had heard the menu from Mary and told her to let Hannah know that Mr. Horst must have a simple dessert.
    He ate only a small portion of the custard and felt worse than before. The pain in his head had become a dull beat. When Hannah brought around the cheese, he put a little on his plate. Bedelia shook her head at him.
    â€œNot Gorgonzola, Charlie.”
    It was a half-whisper, but everyone heard and laughed. Later, after Charlie was stricken, they remembered Bedelia’s solicitude.
    The party broke up early. It had not been a very successful evening. The dinner had been too heavy and the guests were dull. Charlie and Bedelia left at half past ten. It was fortunate that they did not stay longer. Otherwise Charlie would have suffered his attack at Ben’s house and there would have been no end to the confusion.
    He had not been home for more than ten minutes when it happened. Bedelia had gone upstairs ahead of him because Charlie never went to bed without trying all the locks and taking a final look at the furnace. When he came into the bedroom, she was standing before the pier glass in her black silk corset. Charlie thought this the most seductive garment he had ever seen and, whenever Bedelia wore it, he wanted to make love to her.
    She saw his face in the mirror. Whirling around she cried, “Oh, Charlie, darling, you’re not going to be ill, are you?”
    â€œI’m all right,” he said.
    â€œYou felt sick at Ben’s house, I know you did. That’s why I suggested coming home early. You look awful.”
    The creature who stared back at Charlie from the pier glass had sunken eyes, colorless lips, and a pistachio green complexion. But Charlie was determined not to be ill and he squared his shoulders and began briskly to undress.
    Bedelia mixed him a sedative. Her hand trembled as she poured