The Collected Stories of Louis Auchincloss by Louis Auchincloss Read Free Book Online

honest, Sammy?”
    He laughed. “Do you want to be an old maid, Maud?” he demanded. “A sour, bitter old maid?”
    She shook her head. “Not particularly,” she answered.
    â€œWell?”
    â€œBut I am what I am, aren’t I, Sammy?”
    â€œSure. And you will be what you will be.”
    He was essentially indifferent, of course, but it was only the indifference of one adult for another. It filled her nonetheless with a bleak loneliness.
    â€œI’m an idiot, Sammy,” she said abruptly. “And I’m an idiot to think anyone cares whether or not I’m an idiot. I’ll go to London. I’ll be like the rest of you.”
    â€œThat’s better, Maud. Much better.”

8
    When she got her next leave she actually did go to London. She left her bag at the Red Cross on Grosvenor Square and walked down the street to Army Headquarters. It was some time before she found Halsted’s office, and then she was unable to send a message to him because he was in conference. She waited in the main hall for an hour and a half.
    â€œHe may not even come out for lunch,” the sergeant told her.
    â€œI’ll wait,” she said, and he smiled.
    When Halsted, now a lieutenant colonel, looking thinner and serious, walked through the hall he was with several other officers, and there was a preoccupation about their quick stride that made her suddenly feel small and unwanted. She was shrinking back in her chair when he spotted her and stopped.
    â€œMaud!” he exclaimed in astonishment. “Well, I’ll be damned!”
    He went up to her, holding out both arms, and there was a funny little smile on his face.
    â€œI just dropped in to see you,” she stammered.
    â€œBeen waiting long?”
    â€œOh, no.”
    â€œLike to go out on the town tonight?” he asked. “For auld lang syne?” He looked at his watch. “I guess I can make it.”
    She nodded eagerly.
    â€œYou’re at the Red Cross?” he said. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”
    And he was gone. During the rest of the afternoon, as she wandered through the great and empty rooms of the Victoria and Albert Museum, she speculated in vain on the significance of his smile. He did not pick her up that night until long after ten, for he was again in conference. They drove in his jeep to an officers’ club which had formerly been a private house, and a rather elaborate one, and sat at a table in a corner of the large Tudor front hall near the stairway, under which a bar had been installed. Halsted did not seem at all nervous, as she was, but he looked tired and older. He talked about the general aspects of the war in a rather learned way and drank a good deal, but she was too excited to take in a word that he said. He was speculating on the possibilities of a revolution within Germany when she interrupted him.
    â€œHalsted, aren’t you going to ask about
me?
And the family? I’m dying to tell. And to hear all about you. But not about the war. Please.”
    He smiled, just a bit wearily. “How have you been, my dear?” he asked.
    â€œWell, not so terribly well,” she began nervously. “But better now. Oh, much better, Halsted. I’m not the fool I was.”
    It was perfectly evident that he had caught the full import of her words, for he frowned and looked away from her. “When you say you’re not the fool you were, Maud,” he said in a distant, even a superior tone, “does it by any chance mean that you’ve changed your mind about me?”
    She felt the chill in his voice and hesitated. She held her breath for a moment. “Yes,” she said.
    He turned and looked at her fixedly, but she could not read the expression in his eyes. “Then as far as you’re concerned,” he said, “it’s on again?”
    â€œOh, no, Halsted,” she said hastily. “Of course not! What do you take me for?