diff options
Diffstat (limited to '37906-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 37906-h/37906-h.htm | 19646 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37906-h/images/illus-emb.jpg | bin | 0 -> 2818 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 37906-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39393 bytes |
3 files changed, 19646 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/37906-h/37906-h.htm b/37906-h/37906-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5efc03e --- /dev/null +++ b/37906-h/37906-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,19646 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + +<head> + + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Whirligig Of Time, by Wayland Wells Williams. + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> + + blockquote { + text-align:justify; + } + + body { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + } + + .booktitle { + letter-spacing:3px; + } + + .centered { + text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + } + + div.centered { + text-align:center; + } + + div.centered table { + margin-left:auto; + margin-right:auto; + text-align:left; + } + + div.inset12, div.inset14 { + margin-top:1em; + margin-bottom:1em; + margin-left:auto; + margin-right:auto; + } + + div.inset12 { + width:12em + } + + div.inset14 { + width:14em + } + + div.inset12 p, div.inset14 p { + text-indent:0; + } + + .figcenter { + padding:1em; + text-align:center; + font-size:0.8em; + border:none; + margin:auto; + text-indent:1em; + width:400px; + } + + .h1 { + font-size:2em; + margin:.67em 0; + } + + .h1, .h2, .h3, .h4, .h5 { + font-weight:bolder; + text-align:center; + text-indent:0; + } + + h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 { + text-align:center; + } + + .h2 { + font-size:1.5em; + margin:.75em 0; + } + + .h3 { + font-size:1.17em; + margin:.83em 0; + } + + .h4 { + margin:1.12em 0 ; + } + + .h5 { + font-size:.83em; + margin:1.5em 0 ; + } + + h5 { + margin-bottom:1%; + margin-top:1%; + } + + hr.chapter { + margin-top:6em; + margin-bottom:4em; + } + + hr.tb { + margin:2em 25%; + width:50%; + } + + hr.thin { + margin-right:47%; + margin-left:47%; + margin-top:0%; + margin-bottom:0%; + width:6%; + } + + p { + text-align:justify; + margin-top:.75em; + margin-bottom:.75em; + text-indent:0; + } + + p.author { + text-align:right; + margin-right:5%; + } + + p.author1 { + text-align:right; + margin-right:10%; + } + + p.caption { + text-indent:0; + text-align:center; + font-weight:bold; + margin-bottom:2em; + } + + p.spacer { + margin-top:2em; + margin-bottom:3em; + } + + .pagenum { +/* visibility:hidden; remove comment out to hide page numbers */ + position:absolute; + right:2%; + font-size:75%; + color:gray; + background-color:inherit; + text-align:right; + text-indent:0; + font-style:normal; + font-weight:normal; + font-variant:normal; + } + + .poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + margin-bottom:1em; + text-align:left; + } + + .poem .stanza { + margin:1em 0em 1em 0em; + } + + .poem p { + margin:0; + padding-left:3em; + text-indent:-3em; + } + + .poem span.i0 { + display:block; + margin-left:0em; + padding-left:3em; + text-indent:-3em; + } + + .smcap { + font-variant:small-caps; + } + + .tdc { + text-align:center; + } + + .tdlsc { + text-align:left; + font-variant:small-caps; + } + + .tdr { + text-align:right; + padding-right:1em; + } + + .tdrfirst { + text-align:right; + padding-right:1em; + font-size:80%; + } + + .border2 { + border-width:2px; + border-style:solid; + border-color:black; + } + + </style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Whirligig of Time, by Wayland Wells Williams + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Whirligig of Time + +Author: Wayland Wells Williams + +Illustrator: J. Henry + +Release Date: November 2, 2011 [EBook #37906] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h1">THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img class="border2" src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" width="400" height="576" alt="" /> + +<p class="caption">"'JAMES DID IT! JAMES HAS MADE A TOUCHDOWN'"<br /> +<a href="#P95">Page 95</a></p> +</div> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<h1 class="booktitle">THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME</h1> + +<p class="h3">BY</p> + +<p class="h3">WAYLAND WELLS WILLIAMS</p> + +<p class="h4"><i>WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY<br /> +J. HENRY</i></p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h5">"<i>And thus the whirligig of Time brings in his +revenges.</i>"—Twelfth Night.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus-emb.jpg" width="100" height="127" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p class="h4">NEW YORK<br /> +<br /> +FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +PUBLISHERS</p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h4"><i>Copyright, 1916, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">Frederick A. Stokes Company</span></p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<p class="h4"><i>All rights reserved, including that of translation +into foreign languages.</i></p> + +<p class="spacer"> </p> + +<p class="h3">CONTENTS</p> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdc">PART I</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrfirst">CHAPTER</td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdrfirst">PAGE</td></tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Unwritten Papers</td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Aunts</td> + <td class="tdr">9</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Not Colonial; Georgian</td> + <td class="tdr">19</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Puppy Dogs, and a Psychological Fact</td> + <td class="tdr">28</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Babes in the Wood</td> + <td class="tdr">38</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Arcadia and Yankeedom</td> + <td class="tdr">55</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Omne Ignotum</td> + <td class="tdr">69</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Livy and Victor Hugo</td> + <td class="tdr">77</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Long Cheer for Wimbourne</td> + <td class="tdr">88</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Rumblings</td> + <td class="tdr">101</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Aunt Selina's Beaux Yeux</td> + <td class="tdr">112</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">An Act of God</td> + <td class="tdr">121</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Sardou</td> + <td class="tdr">133</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Un-Anglo-Saxon</td> + <td class="tdr">141</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Chiefly Cardiac</td> + <td class="tdr">148</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Saddest Tale</td> + <td class="tdr">160</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdc">PART II</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_I2">I</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Can Love Be Controlled by Advice?</td> + <td class="tdr">171</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_II2">II</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Congreve</td> + <td class="tdr">184</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_III2">III</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Not Triassic, Certainly, but Nearly as Old</td> + <td class="tdr">200</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV2">IV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Wild Horses and Champagne</td> + <td class="tdr">213</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_V2">V</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Schöne Seele on Pisgah</td> + <td class="tdr">224</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI2">VI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Long Chapter. But Then, Love Is Long</td> + <td class="tdr">233</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII2">VII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Very Short Chapter, in One Sense</td> + <td class="tdr">252</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII2">VIII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">One Thing and Another</td> + <td class="tdr">268</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX2">IX</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Labyrinths</td> + <td class="tdr">280</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_X2">X</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Lammle</td> + <td class="tdr">299</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI2">XI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Hesitancies and Tears</td> + <td class="tdr">312</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII2">XII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Rod of Iron</td> + <td class="tdr">326</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII2">XIII</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Red Flame</td> + <td class="tdr">343</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV2">XIV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">A Potter's Vessel</td> + <td class="tdr">362</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV2">XV</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Tide Turns</td> + <td class="tdr">368</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI2">XVI</a></td> + <td class="tdlsc">Reinstatement of a Schöne Seele</td> + <td class="tdr">376</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[1]</span></p> + +<h2>THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME</h2> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<h2>PART I</h2> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">UNWRITTEN PAPERS</p> + +<p>Two o'clock struck by the tall clock on the stairs, and +young Harry Wimbourne, lying wide awake in his +darkened bedroom, reflected that he had never heard that +clock strike two before, except in the afternoon. To his +ears the two strokes had a curious and unfamiliar sound; +he waited expectantly for more to follow, but none did, +and the tones of the second stroke died slowly away in a +rather uncanny fashion through the silent house. For +the house was silent now; the strange and terrifying series +of sounds, issuing from the direction of his mother's room, +that had first awakened him, had ceased some time ago. +There had been much scurrying to and fro, much opening +and shutting of doors, mingled not infrequently with the +sound of voices; voices subdued and yet strained, talking +so low and so hurriedly that no complete sentences could +be caught, though Harry was occasionally able to distinguish +the tones of his father, or the nurse, or the doctor. +Once he detected the phrase "hot water"; and even +that seemed to give a slight tinge of familiarity and sanity +to the other noises. But then had come those other sounds +that froze the very blood in his veins, and made him lie +stiff and stark in his bed, perspiring in every pore, in an +agony of ignorance and terror. It was all so inexplicable; +his mother—! A strange voice would not have affected +him so.</p> + +<p>But all that had stopped after a while, and everything +had quieted down to the stillness that had prevailed for +an hour or more when the clock struck two. The stillness +was in its way even more wearing than the noises had +been, for it gave one the impression that more was to follow.<span class="pagenum">[2]</span> +"Wait, wait, wait," it seemed to Harry to say; +"the worst is not nearly over yet; more will happen before +the night is out; Wait, wait!" and the slow tick of +the clock on the stairs, faintly heard through the closed +door, took up the burden "Wait! Wait!" And Harry +waited. The passage of time seemed to him both cruelly +slow and cruelly fast; each minute dragged along like an +hour, and yet when the hour struck it seemed to him to have +passed off in the space of a minute.</p> + +<p>Sleep was impossible. For the fiftieth time he turned +over in his bed, trying to find a position that would prove +so comfortable as to ensure drowsiness; yet as he did so +he felt convinced that he could not sleep until something +definite, something final, even if unpleasant, should +end the suspense of the silence. He looked across the short +space of darkness that separated his bed from that of his +elder brother James, and envied him his power of sleeping +through anything. But a short sudden change in the dim +outline of the other bed told him that his brother was not +asleep. Harry felt the other's gaze trying to pierce the +darkness, even as his own. He half turned, with a sharp +and nervous motion, to show that he was awake, and for +some minutes both boys lay silently gazing toward each +other, each wondering how much the other had heard.</p> + +<p>At length James broke the silence. "It's come," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it has," answered Harry. "How long have you +been awake?" he added, feeling he must ascertain how +much James knew before committing himself any further.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hours," said James.</p> + +<p>"Since before—"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>So James had heard all, thought Harry. It was just +like him to be awake all that time and never give a sign. +It scarcely occurred to him that James might be as shy +as himself in reference to the events of the night.</p> + +<p>It must not for a moment be supposed that either of +these boys was ignorant of the nature of what was taking +place in their mother's room. Harry was ten at the time, +and James was within hinting distance of his twelfth birthday. +So that when their father, a few days before, had +solemnly informed them that they might expect the arrival +of a little brother or sister before long, and that they must<span class="pagenum">[3]</span> +be most careful not to disturb their mother in any way, +etc., etc., no childish superstition picturing the newcomer +flying through the window or floating down a stream on a +cabbage leaf or, more prosaically, being introduced in the +doctor's black bag, ever entered their heads. When the +trained nurse appeared, a day or two later, they did not +need to be told why she was there. They accepted the +situation, tried to make as little noise as possible, and +struck up a great friendship with Miss Garver, who at +first had ample leisure to regale them with tales of her +hospital experiences; among which, she was sorry to +observe, accounts of advanced cases of delirium tremens +were easily the favorites.</p> + +<p>For a long time the two boys lay awake without exchanging +any more conversation worth mentioning. They heard +the clock strike three, and after that they may have slept. +At any rate, the first thing they were aware of was the +door of their room being opened by a softly rustling figure +which they at once recognized as that of the trained nurse. +She crossed the room and methodically lit the gas; then she +turned and stood at the foot of Harry's bed, resting her +hands lightly on the footboard. Both the boys noticed +immediately how white her face was and how grave its +expression.</p> + +<p>"Are you both awake, boys?" she asked.</p> + +<p>They both said they were, and Miss Garver, after pausing +a moment, as if to choose her words, said:</p> + +<p>"Then get up and put on something, and come into +your mother's room with me."</p> + +<p>Without a word they rose and stumbled into their dressing +gowns and slippers. When they were ready Miss +Garver led the way to the door, and there turned toward +them, with her hand on the knob.</p> + +<p>"Your mother is very ill, boys. We are afraid—this +may be the last time you will see her."</p> + +<p>Dazed and silent they followed her into the hall.</p> + +<p>The bedroom into which they then went was a large +room at the front of the house, high of ceiling, generous +of window space, and furnished for the most part with old +mahogany furniture. It was a beautiful old room when +the sun was pouring in through the great windows, and it +was quite as beautiful, in a solemn sort of way, now, when +it was dimly illuminated by one low-burning gas jet and<span class="pagenum">[4]</span> +one or two shaded candles. A low fire was burning in +the grate, and its dying flames fitfully shone on soft-colored +chintz coverings and glowing mahogany surfaces, +giving to the room an air of drowsy and delicious peace. +And in the middle of it all, on a great mahogany four-poster +bed, curtained, after the fashion of a hundred years +ago, Edith Wimbourne lay dying. She, poor lady, white +and unconscious on her great bed, cared as little for the +setting of the scene in which she was playing the chief part +as dying people generally do; but we, who look on the scene +with detached and appreciative eyes, may perhaps venture +the opinion that, if a choice of deaths be vouchsafed us, we +would as lief as not die in a four-poster bed, surrounded by +those we love best, and with a flickering fire casting changing +and fantastic shadows on the familiar walls and ceiling.</p> + +<p>Beside the dying lady on the bed, there were three other +people in the bedroom when Miss Garver led Harry and +James into it. The doctor, whom they both knew and +liked well, sat at the head of the bed. In a large armchair +near the fire sat the boys' father, and somewhere in +the background hovered another trained nurse, sprung +out of nowhere. The presence of these figures seemed, in +some intangible way, to make death an actual fact, instead +of a mere possibility; if they had not been there, the boys +might merely have been going to pay their mother a visit +when she was ill. Now they both realized, with horribly +sinking hearts, that they were going to see her for the last +time.</p> + +<p>The doctor looked up inquiringly as Miss Garver brought +the two boys into the room and led them over toward the +bed. The father did not even turn his head as they came +in. They stood by the bedside and gazed in silence at the +pale sleeping face on the pillow. A faint odor of chloroform +hung about the bed. The doctor stood up and +leaned over to listen to the action of the dying woman's +heart. After he had finished he drew back a little from +the bedside.</p> + +<p>"You may kiss her, if you like," he said softly.</p> + +<p>The boys leaned down in turn and silently touched the +calm lips. It was almost more than Harry could stand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, must this be the last time?" he heard himself +shrieking. But no one paid any attention to him, and<span class="pagenum">[5]</span> +he suddenly realized that he had not spoken the words +aloud. He looked at James' face, calm though drawn, and +the sight reassured him. He wondered if James was suffering +as much as himself, and thought he probably was. +He wondered if his face showed as little as James'.</p> + +<p>The doctor and Miss Garver were whispering together.</p> + +<p>"Shall I take them away now?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," was the answer; "there is just a chance +that—"</p> + +<p>He did not finish, but Miss Garver must have understood, +for she nodded and quietly drew the boys away. +They walked off toward the fireplace, and their father, +without moving his head, stretched out a hand in their +direction. Silently they sat down by him, one on each +arm of his chair, and he slipped an arm about the waist of +each.</p> + +<p>So they started on the last period of waiting for what +they all knew must come; what they prayed might come +soon and at the same time longed to postpone as long as +possible. The doctor had resumed his seat at the bedside, +and now kept his fingers almost constantly on the patient's +wrist. The two nurses sat down a little way off, to be +ready in case—The emergency was not formulated. +These three people were all present for professional +reasons, so we may assume that most of their meditations +were of a professional nature. But even so, they felt +beneath their professional calm the mingled sadness and +sweetness and solemnity that accompanies the sight of +death, be it never so familiar. And we may easily guess +the feelings of the two boys as they awaited the departure +of the person they loved most on earth; nothing but the +feeling of suspense kept them from giving away completely. +The person in the room whom the scene might +have been expected to affect most was, in point of fact, the +one who felt it least, and that was the shortly to be +bereaved husband, Hilary Wimbourne.</p> + +<p>"Poor Edith," he mused, "poor Edith. What a wife +she has been to me, to be sure! I was fond of her, too. +Not as fond as I might have been, of course ... Still, +when I think that I shall never again see her face behind +the coffee things at the breakfast table it gives me a pang, +a distinct pang ... By the bye, I don't suppose she +remembered, before all this came on, to send that Sheffield<span class="pagenum">[6]</span> +urn to be replated ... But it's all so beautiful—the fire, +the draped bed, the waiting figures, the whole atmosphere! +Just what she would have chosen to die in; all peace and +naturalness. Everything seems to say 'Good-by, Edith; +congratulations, Edith; well out of it all,' only much more +beautifully. There is a dirge—how does it go?—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, no more, no more; too late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighs are spent; the burning tapers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a life as chaste as fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pure as are unwritten papers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are burnt out—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"That comes somewhere near it; 'a life as chaste as fate'—not +a bad description of Edith ... 'Pure as are unwritten +papers'—who but an Elizabethan would have +dared to cast that line just like that? Let's see; Ford, +was it, or Shirley?... If only some one were singing +that now, behind the scenes, out by the bathroom door, say, +everything would be quite perfect. 'Unwritten papers'—ah, +well, people have no business to be as pure as Edith was—and +live. But what is to become of my home without +her? What will become of the boys? Good Heavens, +what am I going to do with the boys? Good little souls—how +quiet they are! It all hits them a great deal harder +than it does me, I know. It won't be so bad when they're +old enough to go off to school, but till then ... I must +ask Cecilia's advice; she'll have some ideas, and by the +way, I wonder if Cecilia thought to see about that Sheraton +sideboard for me?"</p> + +<p>And so on, and so on. Hilary Wimbourne's meditations +never went very far without rounding up at a Sheraton +sideboard or an old Sheffield urn or a nice bit of Chienlung +or a new idea for a pleached alley. Let us not judge +him. He was that sort of person.</p> + +<p>These reflections, and the complete outward silence in +which they took place, were at last interrupted by a slight +stirring of the sick woman on the bed. For the last time +in her mortal life—and for very nearly the first, for the +matter of that—Edith Wimbourne was to assume the +center of her family stage. Her husband and sons heard +her sigh and stir slightly as she lay, and then the doctor +and Miss Garver appeared to be busy over her for a few +moments. Probably they made shift to force a stimulant +between her teeth, for in a moment or two she opened her<span class="pagenum">[7]</span> +eyes to the extent of seeing what was about her. Almost +the first sight that greeted them was that of her two sons +sitting on the arms of their father's chair, and as she saw +them she smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>The nurse glanced inquiringly toward the doctor, who +nodded, and she went over and touched Harry lightly on +the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Come over and speak to your mother," she whispered, +and Harry walked to her side. Very gently he took the +hand that lay motionless on the bed and held it in his. +He could not have uttered a word for the life of him.</p> + +<p>Either the reviving action of the stimulant or the feeling +of the warm blood pulsing through his young hand, or +perhaps both, lent a little strength to the dying woman. +She smiled again, and ever so slight a flush appeared on +her wasted cheeks. "Harry, dear Harry," she whispered +gently, and the boy leaned down to catch the words. "I +am going to leave you, dear, and I am sorry. I know I +should be very proud of you, if I could live ... Be a +good boy, Harry, and don't forget your mother."</p> + +<p>She closed her eyes again, exhausted with the effort of +speaking. Dazed and motionless Harry remained where +he stood until the nurse led him gently away to make +room for James.</p> + +<p>James stood for some moments as his brother had done, +with his hand clasped in that of his mother. Presently +she opened her eyes once more, and gazed gravely for a +moment or two at the face of her first-born, as though +gathering her little remaining strength for what she had +to say to him.</p> + +<p>"Listen, dear," she said at last, and James bent +down. "I'm going to die, James. Try not to be too sorry +about it. It is all for the best ... Dearest, there is something +I want you to do for me; you know how I have +always trusted you, and depended on you—well, perhaps +you don't know, but I have ... James, I want you to +look out for Harry. He needs it now, and he will need +it a great deal more later. You will see what I mean, +as you grow up. He is not made like you; he will need +some one to look after him. Can you promise me that you +will do this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," whispered James.</p> + +<p>His mother sighed gently, as though with relief. "Now<span class="pagenum">[8]</span> +kiss me, dear," she said, and then, almost inaudibly, "It +is good to leave some one I can trust." Then she closed +her eyes, for the last time.</p> + +<p>James never repeated those words of his mother to any +human being, as long as he lived, not even to Harry. It +would be too much to say that they were never absent from +his thoughts, for in truth he thought but seldom of them, +after the first few days. But in some compelling though +intangible way he realized, as he stood there by his mother's +death-bed, that he had accepted a trust from which nothing +but death would release him.</p> + +<p>The doctor returned to the side of the dying woman. +Swiftly and quietly Miss Garver placed a hand on the +shoulder of each of the two boys and led them from the +room. Edith Wimbourne slept, and her sleep slowly +passed into death.</p> + +<p>The man in the chair never moved.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[9]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">AUNTS</p> + +<p>Till Miss Garver had seen Harry and James tucked +away in their beds again and had put out the light +and left their room, both the boys maintained the same +outward composure that they had shown throughout the +experiences of the night. But once left alone in the quiet +of their darkened bedroom, no further ordeal ahead of +them to inspire restraint—for they knew perfectly well by +this time that their mother must be dead—they gave way +entirely to their natural grief and spent what they both +remembered afterward as the wretchedest night of their +lives.</p> + +<p>It was scarcely better when Miss Garver woke them in +the morning, though sleep had so completely erased all +recollection of the night before that Harry, lazily sitting +up and rubbing his eyes, asked what time it was in the +most natural voice in the world.</p> + +<p>"About ten o'clock," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Ten o'clock! Why, we're an hour late for school +already."</p> + +<p>"You are not going to school to-day," answered Miss +Garver, gently, and she hated to say it, knowing that the +remark would immediately set them remembering. When +she turned toward them again she saw that it had, indeed.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she told them, as gently as she could, "I want +you both to get dressed now as quickly as possible and then +go down and eat your breakfast. After that I am going +to take you both down town. There is a good deal to be +done. So hurry up."</p> + +<p>"Why are you going to take us down town?" asked +James.</p> + +<p>"To get some clothes."</p> + +<p>"But I don't understand," he began again, and then +he did. He started dressing, mechanically, and had half +completed his toilet before he noticed his brother, who was +kneeling despairingly by his bed, with his face buried in +the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Harry," he said gently; "I'm nearly ready."</p> + +<p>"No," moaned Harry.<span class="pagenum">[10]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes. It's got to be done, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, go away and leave me alone."</p> + +<p>James bent his head down close to that of his brother. +"You feel better when you're doing something," he said +softly.</p> + +<p>Harry, at length persuaded, arose and began to dress, +and before long he began to feel that James was right. +Doing something did not remove the pain, or even ease it, +but it made you notice it less. It was even better during +breakfast. Both the boys ate steadily and fairly copiously, +though their enjoyment, if there was any, of what was customarily +their pleasantest meal, was wholly subconscious. +There was honey on the table, and Harry, without realizing +what he was doing, helped himself to it for a second +time. He mechanically pushed the pot back toward James, +who also partook. Almost simultaneously their teeth +closed on honey and muffin, and at the same time their +eyes met. For two or three seconds they gazed shamefacedly +at each other, and then stopped eating. Harry +left the table and stood in front of the window, looking +out over the wide lawn.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mother, Mother," he cried within himself; "to +think I should be eating honey and muffin, now, so soon, +and enjoying it! Oh, forgive me, forgive me!"</p> + +<p>When the first shock of self-contempt had passed off, the +boys wandered into the library, in search of their father. +They discovered him, seated at his desk as they had expected, +but it was with a sharp shock of surprise that they +perceived that he was interviewing the cook. Both were +more or less disgusted at the discovery, but they felt nevertheless, +in a vague but reassuring way, that this partly +justified the honey episode.</p> + +<p>The interview closed almost as soon as they entered, and +their father called them over to him.</p> + +<p>"You have both been very good," he said, taking a hand +of each of them; "this has all been very hard for you, I +know." He paused, and then, seeing signs of tears on +their faces, he went on somewhat hurriedly: "You must +go down town with Miss Garver now; she has very kindly +offered to get you what you will need for the funeral. +Aunt Cecilia will take you to New York after that, I expect, +and will fit you out more fully. The funeral will be +to-morrow at three o'clock, and you will be on hand for<span class="pagenum">[11]</span> +that. I don't know whether any one told you; the baby +died—the one that was born last night. It was a little +girl; she only lived a few minutes. She will be buried +with your mother. There will be a lot of people coming +up to-day and to-morrow for the funeral; Uncle James and +Aunt Cecilia and various others, and as there is a good +deal to arrange you must try to be a help and not a +hindrance, and make yourselves useful if you can. Now +run along with Miss Garver and—oh, one more thing. I +should advise you not to ask to see your mother again. +You can, of course, if you want to, but I rather think you +will not be sorry if you don't. You see, you probably have +a good many years in which you will have to live on her +memory, and I think it will be better if your last recollection +of her is as she was when she was alive, not when she +was dead ... and if you want to drive down to the station +after lunch to meet Uncle James and Aunt Cecilia on the +two-fifty, you can. You'd better do that; it's a good thing +to give yourself plenty of occupation. That's all—good-by."</p> + +<p>Then they went off in search of black clothes, and somewhat +to their surprise they noticed that Miss Garver had +returned to her companionable self of the preceding days; +it was almost as if their mother had not died, except that +she was gravely cheerful now, instead of cheerfully cheerful, +as before.</p> + +<p>Before long the boys noticed that almost every one they +had to do with adopted the attitude taken by Miss Garver. +Lunch, to be sure, was a rather terrible meal, for then they +were alone with their father, and he, though he refrained +from further allusion to the loss that hung over them all, +was silent and preoccupied. But Uncle James and Aunt +Cecilia, when met at the station by their nephews, spoke +and acted much as usual, and neither of them noticed that +Aunt Cecilia's gentle eyes filled with tears as she kissed +them. They had always loved Aunt Cecilia best of all +their aunts, though she was not their real aunt, being the +wife of their father's younger brother. Of their Uncle +James the boys were both a little afraid, and never felt +they understood him. He was much like their father, both +in behavior and appearance—though he was clean-shaven +and their father wore a beard and mustache—but he was +much more unapproachable. He had an uncomfortable<span class="pagenum">[12]</span> +way of suddenly joining in a conversation with an apparently +irrelevant remark, at which everybody would +generally remain silent for a moment and then laugh, while +he sat with grave and unchanged countenance. The boys +had once spoken to their father of their uncle's apparent +lack of sympathy; Harry had complained that Uncle James +never seemed to "have any feelings." "Well," replied +their father, "he is a better lawyer than I am," and the +boys never saw any sense in that reply till they remembered +it years afterward, and even then they never could +decide whether it was meant as an explanation or a corollary.</p> + +<p>Later in the afternoon Aunt Selina arrived. There was +always something magnificent and aloof about Aunt Selina; +she had the air of having been transplanted out of a glorious +past into a frivolous and inferior present, and being +far too well-bred to comment on its inferiority, however +keenly she was aware of it. She was the half-sister of +Hilary Wimbourne, and much older than he, being the +child of a first marriage of his father. Harry and James +were on the front steps to greet her as she drove up in state. +Her very manner of stepping out of the carriage and ascending +the steps where she gravely bent and kissed each of her +nephews with the same greeting—"How do you do, my +dear James," "How do you do, my dear Harry,"—was +not so much a tribute to the gravity of this particular +occasion as a typical instance of Aunt Selina's way of +doing things. Though only of average height, she generally +gave the impression of being tall by the erect way in +which she habitually carried her head, and by the straightness +and spareness of her whole figure. Her skirts always +nobly swept the floor beside and behind her, in a day when +other women's skirts hung limply about their ankles. Both +Harry and James looked upon her with an awe which was +only slightly modified by affection.</p> + +<p>But both boys' views of Aunt Selina underwent expansion +within the next twenty-four hours, and they were +to learn the interesting lesson that a warm and impulsive +heart may be hidden within a forbidding exterior. Aunt +Selina entered the home of the Wimbournes with her customary +quiet ceremony, and gravely greeted such of her +relatives as were present, after which every one else in the +room instinctively "stood around," waiting for her to make<span class="pagenum">[13]</span> +the first move. Kind and gentle Aunt Cecilia, who was a +daughter of one of New York's oldest and proudest and +richest families, was no one in particular while Aunt Selina +was in the room. Miss Wimbourne immediately proceeded +to her bedroom, to repair the ravages of travel, and when +she came down again she found the drawing-room deserted +except for James, who was standing in front of a window +and gazing out into the twilight. She went over and stood +by him, also looking over the darkening lawn.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to get this chance to see you, James," +she said presently, in her subdued, measured tones, "even +though the occasion for my being here is such a sad one. +It is not often I get a chance to see any of my nephews and +nieces."</p> + +<p>James mumbled an inarticulate monosyllable or two in +reply, without turning his head. Aunt Selina had interrupted +what was a bad half-hour for James. She +turned and looked at him, and the look of dumb suffering +on his face struck into the very roots of her heart. She +stooped suddenly and put her arms about him, kissing his +cheek with a warmth that was entirely new to James.</p> + +<p>"I know how it feels," she whispered; "I've been +through it all, not once, but again and again, and I know +just how bad it is. Dear boy, how I wish I could bear it +for you."</p> + +<p>She sat down on a little settee that stood in front of the +window, still holding one of James' hands in hers, and +the boy, after the first shock of astonishment had passed, +sank down on his knees in front of her and buried his head +in her lap. So he remained for some minutes, sobbing +almost contentedly; it was sweet to find consolation in this +unexpected quarter.</p> + +<p>Presently he raised his miserable eyes to hers. "It's +Harry, too—partly—" he said, and could go no further.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that too," said his aunt. "You mean that +you have to bear up on Harry's account—"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Because you are older and stronger than he, and you +know he would suffer more if you let him see how much you +suffer. So you go about with the pain burning your very +heart out, because all the time something in his face makes +it impossible for you to breathe a word more of it than you +can help. And so every one gets the idea you are more<span class="pagenum">[14]</span> +hard-hearted than he," she went on passionately, letting +her voice sink to a whisper, "and are not capable of as +much feeling as he. But you don't care what people +think; you don't know or care about anything except oh! +if you only might go somewhere and shriek it all out to +somebody, anybody! And after a lifetime of that sort +of thing self-repression becomes second nature to you, so +that you can't say a thing you think or feel, and you become +the sort of living mummy that I am, with your soul +dead and embalmed years ago, while your body, your +worthless, useless body, goes on living and living. You +have begun it early, my poor James!"</p> + +<p>She stopped, quite as much astounded at her own outburst +as James. The boy no longer cried, for astonishment +had driven away his tears, but stared thoughtfully +out of the window. He had not caught the full meaning +of all that his aunt had said, but he knew that he was receiving +a most important confidence from the most unexpected +possible quarter, which was exactly in tune with his +own mood. The good lady herself was for a few moments +literally too bewildered to utter a word.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens!" ran her astonished thoughts, "do you +know what you have done, Selina Wimbourne? You have +made more of a fool of yourself in the last five minutes +than you have done in all the years since you were a girl! +God grant it may do him no harm."</p> + +<p>To James she said aloud, as soon as she could control her +voice:</p> + +<p>"I am a foolish and indiscreet old woman, James—"</p> + +<p>"No, you're not," interrupts the boy with sudden spirit.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've said a great deal more than I ought, at any +rate. I don't want you to get any false impression from +what I have told you. I want to explain to you that all +the suffering I have undergone from—in the way I have +told you—has not hurt me, but has rather benefited me. +You see, there are two kinds of human suffering. One is +forced upon you from the outside. You can't prevent that +kind, you just have to go through with it. It never is as +bad as you think it is going to be, I find. The other kind +you make for yourself, by doing the wrong thing when you +know you ought to be doing the right thing. That is the +really bad kind of suffering, and you can always prevent +it by doing the thing you know is right."<span class="pagenum">[15]</span></p> + +<p>"You mean," said James thoughtfully, "that it would +have been even worse for you if you had squealed, when +you knew—when you knew you ought not to!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. It's simply a question of the lesser of two +evils. Doing the pleasant but wrong thing hurts more +in the end than doing the disagreeable but right thing."</p> + +<p>"I see. But suppose you can't tell which is the right +thing and which the wrong one?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, there you've put your finger on a real difficulty. +You just have to think it all over and decide as best you +can, and then, if it turns out wrong, you're not so much +to blame. Then, your suffering is of the kind that you +can't help. No one can do any better than what he thinks +is right at the time.... Now get up, dear, I hear people +coming."</p> + +<p>"Well, thank you, Aunt Selina. What you have told +me helps, an awful lot. Really!"</p> + +<p>"I am glad, my dear," replied Miss Wimbourne, and +when people entered the room a second or two later no +one suspected the sudden bond of sympathy that had +sprung up between the specimens of crabbed age and youth +they found there.</p> + +<p>"Cecilia, what's going to become of those two boys?" inquired +Miss Wimbourne later in the evening, finding herself +for the moment alone with her sister-in-law.</p> + +<p>"I've been asking myself that question pretty steadily +for the last twelve hours," answered Mrs. James. "I wish +<i>I</i> could take them," she added, impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Hardly, I suppose." If any of the remarks made in +this conversation seem abrupt or inconsequent, it must be +remembered that these two ladies understood each other +pretty thoroughly without having to polish off or even finish +their sentences, or even to make them consecutive.</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately," went on Mrs. James, after a brief +pause, "the whole thing depends entirely upon Hilary."</p> + +<p>"The very last person—"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Yet what can one do?"</p> + +<p>"It seems quite clear to me," said Aunt Selina, choosing +her words carefully and slowly, "that Hilary will +inevitably choose the one course which is most to be avoided. +Hilary will want them to go on living here alone with him; +preserve the <i>status quo</i> as far as possible. What do you +think?"<span class="pagenum">[16]</span></p> + +<p>"I am almost sure of it. But...."</p> + +<p>"But if any of us have the slightest feeling for those +boys ... Until they are both safely away at school, at +any rate, and he won't send them away for a year or two +yet, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Harry not for three, I should say.... That is, <i>I</i> +shouldn't."</p> + +<p>Silence for a moment, then Aunt Selina:</p> + +<p>"Well, can you think of any one that could be got to +come here?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. James fluttered for a moment, as though preparing +for a delicate and difficult advance.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," she said, "that is, the thought struck me +to-day—if you—if <i>you</i> could ever—"</p> + +<p>"Hilary and I," observed Aunt Selina in calm, clear +impersonal tones that once for all disposed of the suggestion; +"Hilary and I Do Not Get On. That way, I mean. +At a distance—"</p> + +<p>The sentence was completed by a gesture that somehow +managed to convey an impression of understanding and +amity at a distance. Mrs. James' subdued "Oh!" of comprehension, +or rather of resignation, bid fair for a while to +close the interview. But presently Aunt Selina, with the +air of one accepting a sword offered with hilt toward her, +asked, or rather observed, as though it was not a question +at all, but a statement:</p> + +<p>"What do you think of Agatha Fraile?"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Mrs. James with something of a burnt-child +air; "I like her. Though I hardly know her, of +course. I should say she would be willing, too. Though +of course one can't tell.... They are not well off, I believe.... +She is very good, no doubt...."</p> + +<p>"Hm," said Aunt Selina serenely, aware that there was +a conversational ditch to be taken, and determined to make +her interlocutrix give her a lead. This Aunt Cecilia +bravely did with:</p> + +<p>"You mean—how much does she know about—?"</p> + +<p>"About Hilary, yes."</p> + +<p>"I rather think, myself, she must have found out through +Edith.... I don't see how she could have failed to know. +Do you?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say, I'm sure. Edith had rather curious +ideas, though she was one of the best women that ever<span class="pagenum">[17]</span> +lived. However, that is not the main point for consideration +now. What I want to know is, can you think of anything +better?"</p> + +<p>"N-no," replied Mrs. James slowly. "I even think it +would be the best possible arrangement, if—Oh dear, to +think it should come to this—those poor boys!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Aunt Selina, briskly. "Now, that +being decided, some one has got to put it to Hilary. Hilary +will do nothing alone. She comes to-morrow morning, +does she not? I think it should be settled, one way or the +other, before she goes. Now who is to approach Hilary?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," faltered Mrs. James, rather bewildered +by the other's swiftness of reasoning.</p> + +<p>"Well, I do. James is the only human being I know +who has, or ever had, any influence on Hilary. Now one +of us has got to talk to James, and I rather think, Cecilia, +that I could do it more successfully than you. For the +first time, that is.... Of course, afterward, you...."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," murmurs Mrs. James.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; I will see James the first thing in the +morning. I don't say it will come to anything, but there +is a great deal to be gone through before she is even +approached. We must do <i>something</i>. Living here alone, +with their father...."</p> + +<p>"Out of the question, of course." The conversation +having, as it were, completed one lap of its course and +arrived again at its starting point, might have perambulated +gently along till bedtime, had it not been abruptly +interrupted by the entrance of James, junior, come to say +good-night.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A few days after the funeral, after they had gone to bed +of an evening, Harry through the darkness apostrophized +his brother thus:</p> + +<p>"I tell you, James, Aunt Selina is all right; did you +know it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," was the reply, "she gave you five dollars, too, did +she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but that's not what I mean. She's given me five +dollars plenty of times before this."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you mean, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she found me in the garden one morning.... Tuesday, +I guess—" Tuesday had been the day of the<span class="pagenum">[18]</span> +funeral—"and I had been crying a good deal, and I suppose +she knew it. At any rate, she took me by the hand +and talked to me for a while...."</p> + +<p>"What did she say to you?" This question was not +prompted by vulgar curiosity; James knew that his brother +wished to be pumped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she didn't <i>say</i> much. She was just awfully nice, +that's all.... She told me—well, she said, for one thing, +that I cried too much. Only she didn't say it like that. +She said that going about and crying wasn't much of a way +of showing you were sorry. She said that if—well, if you +really <i>missed</i> a person, the least you could do was not to go +about making a pest of yourself, even if you couldn't really +do anything to help."</p> + +<p>"Oh."</p> + +<p>"She said that the last thing that would please Mama herself +was to think that all she had taught me came to no +more than ... well, than crying. Then she said.... I +don't think I'll tell you that, though."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't, if you don't want to."</p> + +<p>"She told me that, in a way, she realized I must feel it—about +Mama—more than any one else, because I had been +more with her lately than any one else—more dependent on +her, she said, ..."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see."</p> + +<p>"And that while it was harder on me, it put a greater +responsibility on me, because, you see—oh, I can't explain +it all! But she was about right, I guess."</p> + +<p>"She told me something of the same kind ... not exactly +like that, I mean, but—well, the same sort of thing. +It helped, too. It's funny, to think of her understanding +better than any one else—Aunt Selina!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it? Well, you really never can tell about +people." With which mature reflection Harry turned +over and went to sleep. But his brother lay awake for +some time thinking over what he had just heard, and as +he thought, his respect for his aunt grew. Not only could +she sound the depths of his own woe and give him comfort +for it, but she could light on the one thing that would be +likely to help Harry in his own peculiar need, and show +it to him with ready and fearless tact. And what she had +told Harry was practically the very opposite of what she +had told him.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could be like Aunt Selina," he thought.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[19]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">NOT COLONIAL; GEORGIAN</p> + +<p>Harry and James lived in the city of New Haven in +a big house surrounded by spacious grounds. The +house itself was an old and stately one; the local papers, +when they had occasion to mention it, usually referred to it +as the Wimbourne "mansion." The boys' dislike of this +word dated from an early age, when their father informed +them that it was a loathsome expression, which people who +"really knew" never used under any circumstances. He +himself, if he had had occasion to describe it, would have +spoken of it as a "place."</p> + +<p>The house was built in the first decade of the nineteenth +century. It was put up by Hilary Wimbourne's great-grandfather +James, first of the name, the founder of the +family fortunes. He came to New Haven as a penniless +apprentice to a carriage-maker after the conclusion of the +Revolutionary wars left him without other occupation, and +within ten years after his arrival he became one of the two +or three most prominent lawyers in the place. His understanding +of his early trade he turned to good account by +investing a large portion of his earnings as a lawyer in the +carriage factory in which he originally served, and which +with the benefit of his money and business acumen, became +the most profitable of its kind in the town. He bought a +farm in what were then the extreme outskirts of the city +and built the spacious, foursquare, comfortable-looking +house in which the Wimbournes with whom we have to deal +still lived, nearly one hundred years later.</p> + +<p>The house stood in a commanding position above an up-town +avenue. It was painted white with green trimmings, +and had a front portico of tall Doric columns reaching up +to the top of the house. People habitually referred to its +style of architecture as "Colonial." "Post-Colonial," or +"late American Georgian" would have come much nearer +the mark, but these distinctions are as naught to the great +and glorious body of New England's inhabitants, to whom<span class="pagenum">[20]</span> +everything with pillars is and always will be "Colonial." +The house was in truth a fine example of its style, and had +been surprisingly little spoiled by the generations of Wimbournes +that had lived and died in it, but the unity of its +general effect was marred by the addition of two wings +reaching out from its sides, erected by Hilary Wimbourne's +father in the fifties and showing all the peculiarities of +that glorious but architecturally weak period. Friends of +the family often expressed sympathy and sorrow at the +anachronism the house was thus made to offer, but Hilary +soon became somewhat impatient of these. In fact, he +never listened to an expression of regret on the subject +without breathing a silent prayer of thanksgiving that the +wings had been built when they were, and not ten or +twenty or thirty years later, when architectural indiscretion +ran to extremes only vaguely hinted at in the forties and +fifties.</p> + +<p>"Besides," he would explain to those who showed interest +in the matter, "those wings are not always going to +look as badly as they do now. Our eyes will always look +on them as unpleasantly different from the old house, but +the eyes of a hundred years hence will see in them nothing +more than a quaint and agreeable variety. After all, the +two styles are but two different aspects of neo-classicism, +one a little more remote from its original model than the +other. History has proved what I say; think how the +sensitive must have shuddered in the fifteenth century when +they saw a lot of Perpendicular Gothic slammed down by +the side of pure Early English! It must have looked like +the very devil to them." Only very few people heard this +theory carried back to its logical conclusion, however. +Hilary would see and recognize the drowning expression +that came over their faces, and as soon as he knew that he +was beyond their depth he stopped, for he made it a rule +never to talk above people's heads. Consequently he +seldom got beyond the "neo-classicism" point.</p> + +<p>As far as the interior was concerned, the atmosphere of +the old days had been almost perfectly preserved. Every +wall-paper, every decoration had, by some lucky succession +of chances, been as nearly as possible duplicated when it +became necessary to replace or restore, and the hand of the +seventies and eighties left almost no trace of its equally +ruthless destructive and constructive powers. So that at<span class="pagenum">[21]</span> +the time of which we write the house was furnished almost +completely in the style of the late Georgian period, for +what his ancestors omitted to leave him the faultless taste +of Hilary supplied.</p> + +<p>The house faced westward and toward the principal +street of the neighborhood; the ground fell gently away +from it on all sides, but most steeply toward the west. Carriage +drives led up to the house from the two corners formed +by the main thoroughfare and the two intersecting streets +which bounded the property. A tar footpath followed the +curve of each driveway, so that between the street and +the front door of the house there stretched an unbroken +expanse of green lawn. In their early youth Harry and +James both wondered why no footpath ran directly up the +middle of the front lawn, as was the case with most of the +other front lawns of their acquaintance, and they considered +it monstrously inconvenient that they were obliged +to "go way round by the corners" when they wished to +reach the house from without. At length, however, the +brilliant thought occurred to them that as they always +approached the house either from the north or the south, +and never from the unbroken block to the west, they could +not well have used a central walk if they had had it.</p> + +<p>Such was the setting in which the early lives of these +two boys took place, and, taking one thing with another, +their lot could probably not have been bettered. The first +ten years of their lives had the divine monotony of perfect +happiness and harmony, in which no more momentous events +than the measles, a change of school, or summer trips to +the coast of Maine or, more rarely, to Europe, ever +occurred. They were brought up, from their earliest years, +under the direct but never too obtrusive eye of their +mother, and as we have already heard Aunt Selina describe +her as "one of the best women that ever lived," we should +be guilty of something akin to painting the rose if we +ventured on any further encomiums of her character on +our own account. Their relation with their father was +hardly less ideal, though they saw much less of him and +were, at bottom, less deeply attached to him than to their +mother. Hilary was fond of his boys, and was capable of +entering into their youthful moods with a sort of intimate +aloofness that the boys found very winning. Not infrequently +he would suddenly swoop down on them in their<span class="pagenum">[22]</span> +happy but humdrum occupations and carry them off to a +baseball game or perhaps to New York for the day to spend +a few hours of bliss in the Aquarium or the Zoo, in less +time than it frequently took their mother to decide what +overcoats they should wear to school. This dashing +<i>insouciance</i> secretly captivated their mother as much as it +did them, and though by this time she had given up showing +the delight it caused her, she was never more pleased +than when Hilary would so take them off.</p> + +<p>Hilary also read to them occasionally, and his reading +was another source of secret admiration to their mother. +He never read them anything but what his wife would +have described, and rightly, too, as "far beyond them"; +such things as Spenser, Shakespeare, Sheridan, or Milton, +even; and he always read with such a mock-serious air as +Sir Henry Irving used in the scene where Charles I recites +poetry to his children. His wife on such occasions, though +perfectly content with her rôle of Henrietta Maria, would reflect +that if <i>she</i> tried to read such things to them they +would be fidgeting and walking about the room and longing +for her to stop, instead of sitting spellbound, as they +did when he read, on the arms of his chair and breathlessly +following each word of the text.</p> + +<p>With another parent and with other children such reading +would have proved utterly sterile, but from it the +boys managed to absorb a good deal of pleasure and the +germs of literary appreciation as well, and the words of +many a great passage in many a great author became dear +to them long before they were able to grasp their full +meaning. Results of their literary sessions would crop out +in the family intercourse in sundry curious ways. One instance +may serve to illustrate this. The family were +sitting about together one day after lunch; Edith Wimbourne +had a pile of household mending before her.</p> + +<p>"I declare," she said, "these tablecloths have simply +rotted away from lying in that dark closet; they would +have lasted much better if they had been used a little."</p> + +<p>"She let concealment," said Hilary from behind a magazine, +"like a worm i' the bud, feed—what did concealment +feed on, James?"</p> + +<p>"Feed on her damask—"</p> + +<p>"Tablecloth!" shouts Harry, brilliantly but indiscreetly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up," retorts his brother, peevishly, as who<span class="pagenum">[23]</span> +would not, at having the words snatched from his mouth? +"You needn't be so smart, I was going to say that anyway."</p> + +<p>"The heck you were!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was."</p> + +<p>"You were not! You were going to say 'cheek'; I saw +you start to say it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up! Can't any one be bright but you?"</p> + +<p>"That's all right; you were going to say it. Wasn't +he, Father?" asks Harry, with the air of one appealing to +the supreme authority.</p> + +<p>"What?" Hilary had long since returned to his magazine.</p> + +<p>"Say 'cheek.' Wasn't he going to?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"James, of course."</p> + +<p>"I trust not. It seems to me that it is one of the slang +words your mother has requested you not to use."</p> + +<p>"Wha—what is?"</p> + +<p>"Cheek." Not much of a joke, certainly, but Hilary, +looking with impenetrable gravity over his glasses at his +son, when he really knows perfectly well what Harry is +talking about, is funny. At any rate Harry stops to laugh, +and the quarrel is a failure. Edith could have stopped +the quarrel by simply enjoining peace, but she could not +have done it without resort to parental authority.</p> + +<p>One day James, ordinarily phlegmatic and self-controlled, +ran through the house in a great state of dishevelment +and distress in search of his mother, holding aloft a +bloody finger and weeping hot tears of woe.</p> + +<p>"Where's Mama?" he inquired breathlessly, ending +up in the library and finding his father alone there.</p> + +<p>"Out, I think. What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing.... A kid licked me.... I wanted something +for this finger."</p> + +<p>"Well, go upstairs and get that large brown bottle on +my wash-stand, and we'll see what we can do about it." +Hilary, taking a page out of his own boyhood, guessed that +no mere cut finger could have reduced James to such an +abject pass. He suspected that his son, who, unlike Harry, +was almost morbidly sensitive to appearances and almost +never gave way to demonstrations of grief, had augmented +the disgrace of being thrashed by allowing himself to be<span class="pagenum">[24]</span> +reduced to a state of tears in the presence of his fellows. +Some such occurrence only could account for this precipitate +rout. One or two further inquiries confirmed this +conjecture, and he then prepared to apply, if possible, a +balm to his son's mental wound as well as the physical +one.</p> + +<p>"There," said he, giving a final pull to an unprofessional-looking +bandage, composed of an entirely un-antiseptic +handkerchief, "that will stay till your mother comes +in. Now go and get me that green book on the third shelf +and I'll read to you for a while, if you want."</p> + +<p>The green book happened to be no less notable a work +than "Paradise Lost," and Hilary, turning to the last +pages of the twelfth book, read of the expulsion of our +sinning forbears from Eden. He read Milton rather well, +almost as well, in fact, as he secretly thought he did, and +James, though incapable at first of listening attentively or +understanding much of anything, was gradually soothed +by the solemn music of the lines; by the time his father +reached the closing passage he was listening with wide open +ears.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world was all before them, where to choose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their place of rest, and Providence their guide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through Eden took their solitary way.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Hilary kept the book open on his knee for a moment after +he had finished, and he noticed with interest that James +leaned forward with aroused attention to read over the +passage again. "Some natural tears—wiped them soon—the +world was all before them—" the words sank in on +James' mind as his father knew they would, and suggested +the thought that the world need not be irrevocably lost +through one indiscretion.</p> + +<p>Let no one gain from these somewhat extended accounts +of Hilary's dealings with his sons an impression to the +effect that the boys found a more sympathetic friend in +their father than in their mother. As a matter of fact, +the exact contrary was true. Like all perfect art, Hilary's<span class="pagenum">[25]</span> +successful passages with them bore no trace of the means +by which they were brought about, and consequently they +did not feel that their father's attitude toward them was +inspired by anything like the warm and undisguised affection +which pervaded their mother's. Nor, indeed, was it.</p> + +<p>James, even in these early days, showed signs of having +inherited a fair share of his father's inborn tact in his +dealings with his brother. The fraternal relation is always +an interesting one to observe, because of its extreme elasticity, +combining, as it does, apparently unlimited possibilities +for love, hate and indifference. Who ever saw two +pairs of brothers that seemed to regard each other with exactly +the same feelings? Harry and James certainly did +not hate each other, but on the other hand they did not +love each other with that passionate devotion that is supposed +to characterize the ideal brothers of fancy. Nor +could they truthfully be called wholly indifferent to each +other; their mutual attitude lay somewhere between indifference +and the Castor-and-Pollux-like devotion that +the older and less attractive of their relatives constantly +tried to instil in their youthful bosoms. They were never +bored by each other. James always felt for Harry's +superior quickness in all intellectual matters an admiration +which he would have died sooner than give full expression +to, and Harry, though he frequently scouted his brother's +opinions in all matters, had a profound respect for James' +clearness and maturity of judgment. But what, more than +anything else, kept them on good terms with each other and +always, at the last moment, prevented serious ructions, +was a way that James had at times of viewing their relation +in a detached and impersonal light, and acting accordingly. +On such occasions he appeared to be two people; first, the +James that was Harry's brother and contemporary, less +than two years older than he and subject to the same desires +and weakness, and, secondly, the James who stood +as judge over their differences and distributed justice to +them both with a fair and impartial hand.</p> + +<p>For instance, there was the episode of the neckties. A +distant relative, a cousin of their mother's, who does not +really come into the story at all, took occasion of expressing +her approval of their existence by sending them two neckties, +one purple and one green, with the direction that +they should decide between them which was to have which.<span class="pagenum">[26]</span> +James, by the right of primogeniture that prevails among +most families of children, was given the first choice, and +picked out the purple one. Harry quietly took the other, +but though there was no open dissatisfaction expressed, it +soon became evident to James that his brother was tremendously +disappointed. During the rest of the day, as +he went about his business and pleasure, vague but disturbing +recollections flitted through James' mind of +Harry's being particularly anxious to possess a purple tie, +of having been half promised one, indeed, by the very +relative from whom these blessings came; circumstances +which, from the wording of the letter which accompanied +the gift, obviously constituted no legal claim on the tie, but +were nevertheless enough to appeal to James' sense of +moral, or "ultimate" justice.</p> + +<p>The next morning James, according to custom, approaching +the completion of his dressing some time before Harry, +remarked in a casual tone:</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can have that purple tie, if you want. I'd +just as lief take the green one."</p> + +<p>Harry, who had taken the attitude of being willing to +suffer to the point of death before making a complaint in +the matter, would not allow this. In the brief conversational +intervals that the spirited wielding of a sponge, +and subsequently of a towel, allowed, he disclaimed any +predilection for ties of any particular color, or of any particular +kind of tie, or for any particular color in general. +Clothes were a matter of complete indifference for him; he +had never been able to understand why people spent their +time in raving inanely over this or that particular manner +of robing themselves. As for colors, he could scarcely +bother to tell one from the other; the prism presented to +him a field in which it was impossible to make any choice. +If, however, in his weaker moments, he had ever felt a +passing fancy for one color over and above another, that +color was undoubtedly green. And so on, and so forth. +James made no further observation on the subject, but +when he reached the necktie stage in his dressing, he +quietly put on the green tie, and Harry, like the Roman +senators of old, subsequently flashed in the purple.</p> + +<p>James preferred the purple tie, but he let Harry have it +because Harry felt more keenly on the subject than he. +"If"—so ran the substance of his reasoning—"if I give<span class="pagenum">[27]</span> +way in this matter, about which I do not particularly care, +one way or the other, there will be a better chance of my +getting what I want some other time, when the issue is a +really vital one. By sacrificing a penny now, I gain a +pound in the future." Such clearness of sight was beyond +James' years, and, but for the real sense of justice +that accompanied it might have made him an opportunist. +James would never in the last resort, have used his reasoning +powers to cheat Harry, who, though his brother, was, +when all was said and done, his best friend.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[28]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">PUPPY DOGS, AND A PSYCHOLOGICAL FACT</p> + +<p>The story of the life of any person begins with the +moment of his birth and ends with the last breath +that leaves his body. The complete account of the inward +and outward experiences that go to make up any one individual +life would, if properly told, be the most fascinating +story in the world, for there never lived a person who +did not carry about within himself the materials for a +great and complete novel. Such stories have never yet +been written, and probably never will be, partly because +they would be too long and partly because the thing would +be so confoundedly hard to do. So as to make it interesting, +that is. We have chosen to begin this account of the +lives, or rather, a section of the lives, of Harry and James +at the death of their mother because that was their first +great outward experience. It influenced their inward +lives even more fundamentally. It lifted their thoughts, +their whole outlook on life, from what, for want of a better +expression, might be called the level of youthful development +and sent them branching and soaring into new and +strange regions.</p> + +<p>One of the most important outward changes that Edith +Wimbourne's death caused in the life of her household was +the substitution, as far as such a thing could be, of her +younger sister, Agatha Fraile, in her place. Such was, in +a word, the ultimate fruit of the conversation between +Aunt Selina and Aunt Cecilia that occurred a chapter or +two ago. James Wimbourne was approached and convinced, +and in his turn approached and convinced his +brother Hilary, who, in his turn, came back to his half-sister +Selina and persuaded her to approach and convince +that lady in question on his behalf. Aunt Selina was +perfectly willing to do this, though she had not counted on +it.</p> + +<p>"Miss Fraile," she said, on the first occasion for speech<span class="pagenum">[29]</span> +that presented itself; "my brother Hilary has asked me to +put a proposition to you on his behalf. What would you +say to coming here and living with him as his housekeeper +and having an eye on those two boys, until—well, say till +it is time for them to go off to a boarding-school?"</p> + +<p>This direct manner of approach was perhaps the one +best calculated to win Miss Fraile, who after a very little +parley, assented to the proposition. She was a very young +and fragile-looking woman, having but lately passed her +thirtieth birthday, but she was in reality quite as able to take +care of herself as the next person, if not, indeed, a great +deal more so. She was the very antithesis, as the boys +presently discovered, of Aunt Selina, being all smiles and +cordiality on the outside and about as hard as tempered +steel when you got a little below the surface, in spite of her +smiles, and in spite, moreover, of her really unusual and +perfectly sincere piety.</p> + +<p>"I think," went on Aunt Selina rather magnificently, +after the main point had been gained, "that in the matter +of the stipend there will be no difficulty at all. You will +find my brother entirely liberal in such matters." Here +she named a sum, Miss Fraile instantly decided that it +would not do, and proceeded after her own fashion to the +work of raising her opponent's bid.</p> + +<p>"How very good of him," she murmured, letting her +eyes fall to the carpet. "All of our family have unfortunately +been obliged to devote so much thought and attention +to money matters since our dear father's death +left us so badly off. Let me see.... I suppose my duties +here would take up very nearly all my time, would they +not?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know.... I daresay...."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; one has to look so far ahead in all these matters, +does one not? I mean, that looking after this great +house and those two dear boys and Hilary himself would +not leave me much time for anything like music lessons, +would it? Perhaps you did not know that I gave music +lessons at home?... Money is such a bother—! I suppose +I should scarcely have time to practise here myself, +with one thing and another—household affairs do pile up +so, do they not?—without thinking of lessons or anything +of that sort; yet I daresay I should somehow be able to ... to +make it up, that is, if—"<span class="pagenum">[30]</span></p> + +<p>"How much more would you need?" asked Aunt Selina +bluntly.</p> + +<p>Miss Fraile named a sum half as large again as the one +previously mentioned, but Aunt Selina, stifling a gasp, +clinched the matter there.</p> + +<p>After the funeral Miss Fraile returned to her home in +semi-rural Pennsylvania "to collect my traps" as she +brightly put it, and a week or so later came back to New +Haven and settled down in her new position. The boys on +the whole liked their Aunt Agatha, though even their exuberant +boyish natures occasionally found her cheerfulness +a little oppressive, and she certainly did very well for +them and for their father. She ordered the meals, saw to +the housework, arranged the flowers, dusted the bric-à-brac +with her own hands, did most of the mending and +presided at the head of the table at meals, fairly radiating +peace and cheer.</p> + +<p>Hilary was a little appalled, to be sure, when she would +burst on him on his returning to the house of an evening +with a pair of warmed slippers in her hand and a musical +little peal of laughter on her lips, but he did not have to +see much of her, and besides, he so thoroughly approved of +her.</p> + +<p>"It is like living with Mary and Martha rolled into +one," he told his brother a month or two after her arrival; +"with a little of Job and the archangel Gabriel +thrown in, flavored with a spice of St. Elizabeth of Hungary—that +bread woman, you know—and just a dash of +St. Francis of Assisi. She has covered the lawn knee-deep +with bread crumbs for the sparrows, and when she +is not busy with her church work, which she almost always +is, she goes about kissing strange children on the +head and asking them if they say their prayers regularly. +They all seem to like her, too; that's the funny part of it. +The boys are entirely happy with her, and she is splendid +for them. In short, I am entertaining an angel, though +not unawares—oh, no, certainly not unawares."</p> + +<p>The two boys were thrown on each other's society much +more constantly than formerly, especially as, during the +first weeks, at any rate, they had small heart for the games +of their schoolmates. James especially, during these days +of retirement, observed his brother with a newly-awakened<span class="pagenum">[31]</span> +interest, and in the light, of course, of his mother's last +words to him. He had always thought of Harry as more +irresponsible and light-headed than himself, but it had +never occurred to him that he could give him any help +against his impulsiveness beyond the customary fraternal +criticism and banter. Now he began to see that his position +of elder brother, combined with his superior balance +and poise of character, gave him a considerable influence +over Harry, and he began to feel at times an actual sense +of responsibility very different from the attitude of tolerant +and half-amused superiority with which he had previously +regarded Harry's vagaries. At such times he would drop +his ridicule or blame, whichever it happened to be, and +would become silent and embarrassed, feeling that he should +be helping Harry instead of merely laying stress on his +shortcomings, and yet not having the first idea of how to +go to work about it.</p> + +<p>One day they were returning to the house after a walk +through a somewhat slummy and hoodlum-infested neighborhood +and came upon a group of boys tormenting a small, +dirty, yellow mongrel puppy after the humorous manner +of their kind. They were not actually cruel to the dog, but +they were certainly not giving it a good time, and Harry's +tender heart was stirred to its core. Without a word or a +second thought he rushed into the middle of the gang, extracted +the puppy and ran off with it to a place of safety. +The thing was done in the modern rather than in the romantic +style; he did not strike out at boys twice as big as +himself—there were none there, in the first place, and in +any case he had no desire for a fight—nor did he indulge +in a lengthy tirade against cruelty to animals; he simply +grabbed the dog and ran. The "micks" followed him at +first, but he could run faster than they and none of them +cared much about a puppy, one way or the other.</p> + +<p>James, meanwhile, had run off a different way, and +when presently he came upon his brother again he was +walking leisurely along clasping the puppy in a close embrace.</p> + +<p>"You certainly are a young fool," said James, half +amused and half irritated; "what did you want to get +mixed up in a street row like that for? Darned lucky you +didn't get your head smashed."<span class="pagenum">[32]</span></p> + +<p>Harry thought it needless to reply to this, as the facts +spoke for themselves, and merely walked on, hugging and +kissing his prize.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly the situation dawned on James in its +new light, and he walked on, silent as Harry himself and +far more perplexed. Harry's fundamental motive was a +good one, no doubt, but he realized what disproportionate +trouble the reckless following up of Harry's good motives +might bring him into. This time he had luckily escaped +scot free, but the next time he would very likely get mixed +up in a street fight, and would be lucky if he were able to +walk home. And all about so little—the dog was not really +suffering; being a slum dog it had probably thrived on +teasing and mistreatment since before its eyes were open. +And the worst part of the situation was that he was so +helpless in making Harry see the thing in its true light.</p> + +<p>At any rate, he reflected, his first attitude was of no +avail. Calling Harry a fool, he knew, would not convince +him of his foolishness; it would more likely have the effect +of making him think he was more right than ever. As he +walked silently on, beside his brother, Harry's shortcomings +seemed to dwindle and his own to increase.</p> + +<p>"Let's have a look at the beast," he said presently in +an altered tone, stopping and taking the puppy from +Harry's arms. "He's not such a bad puppy, after all. +Wonder how old he is." He sat down on a nearby curbstone +and balancing the puppy on his knee apostrophized +him further: "Well, it was poor pupsy-wupsy; did the +naughty boys throw stones at it? That was a dirty shame, +it was!"</p> + +<p>James put the puppy down in the gutter and encouraged +playfulness. For a few minutes the two boys watched its +somewhat reluctant antics; then James asked:</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with it, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Take it home, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"What'll you do with it there? Keep him in the house?"</p> + +<p>"No. That is, I suppose Father wouldn't hear of it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose not A puppy...! There are three dogs +in the house anyway."</p> + +<p>"What about the stable, then?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. There's Thomas." Thomas was the +coachman, who made no secret of his dislike for dogs "under +the horses' hoofs."<span class="pagenum">[33]</span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry, "and Spark, too. Spark would +try to bite him, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with him, then?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; what shall we?"</p> + +<p>"It's for you to say—he's your dog."</p> + +<p>"Do you think," said Harry, lowering his voice and +gazing furtively around, "do you think it would be all +right just to leave him here?"</p> + +<p>James laughed, inwardly. Then a bright idea struck +him. Grasping the puppy in one hand he walked across +the street to a small and dirty front yard in which a small +and dirty child of four or five was sitting playing.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, kid," said James breezily, "do you want a puppy +dog? Here you are, then. He's a very valuable dog, so +be careful of him. Mind you don't pull his tail now, or +he'll bite."</p> + +<p>James walked off well pleased with the turn of events, +which left Harry relieved and satisfied and the dog honorably +disposed of. As for Harry, he was profoundly grateful. +He would have liked to give some expression to his +gratitude, but the words would not come, and he walked +on for some time without speaking. But he was determined +to give some sign of what he felt.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, James," he said at length in a low voice, +and blushed to the roots of his hair.</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, that's all right." James' surprise was +no affectation; the matter had really passed from his mind. +But he gave to Harry's words the full meaning that the +speaker placed in them. They made him feel suddenly +ashamed of himself; what had Harry done that was wrong? +What had he done but what was right and praiseworthy, +when you came to look at it? Should he not be ashamed +himself of not having run in and rescued the dog before +Harry?</p> + +<p>And yet, most of the things that Harry did worked out +wrong, somehow, even when they were prompted by the +best of motives.</p> + +<p>"Poor Harry," thought James, "he's always getting into +scrapes, and yet I suppose, if everything were known, +people would see that he was twice as good as I am, at +bottom. I would never have thought of saving that dog; +Harry thinks out such funny things to do.... I can generally +do the right thing, if it's put directly up to me, but<span class="pagenum">[34]</span> +Harry goes out and searches for the right thing to do; +I guess that's what it amounts to. Only, I wish he didn't +have to search in such strange places."</p> + +<p>As James settled down into his position of mentor to his +brother he found out a curious thing; he was fonder of +Harry than formerly. The old sense of unconscious, taking-it-for-granted +companionship gradually became infused +with positive affection which, for the reason that it found +little if any outward expression in the daily round of work +and play, escaped the notice of everybody except James +himself.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that doing something for a person would +ever make you fonder of that person?" he once asked of +his father when they were alone together. "I mean—I +should think, that is, that it would work out the other way, +so that the person you did the thing for would be fonder +of you."</p> + +<p>"It's a well known psychological fact," replied his +father; "I've often noticed it. If you merely stop a +person in the street and ask him the way, or what time it +is, you can see his expression change from one of indifference, +or even dislike, to interest and cordiality. And if +you ever feel that a man, an acquaintance, doesn't like +you, ask him to do you some slight service, and he'll admire +you intensely from that moment on. And conversely, +if you want to make a man your enemy, the best way of +going about it is to do something for him.—Why, what +made you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"Thomas," replied James promptly, being prepared for +the question. "He was cross as two sticks the other day +when we wanted to build forts in the haymow, but after +I asked him to help me put the chain on my bicycle," etc., +etc. But James was disturbed by his father's development +of the theory. What if his "helping out" Harry should +have the effect of making him hate him, James, the very effect +of all others he desired to avoid? He resolved to keep +his new-found feeling to himself, and give his brother's +resentment no foothold; but he could not entirely live it +down, for all that. Unconsciously he found fault less with +him, unconsciously he would take his part in squabbles with +the servants or with his father; and as he noticed no change +in Harry's conduct toward him he congratulated himself +on his powers of concealment.<span class="pagenum">[35]</span></p> + +<p>But he need have had no worries on the score of Harry's +resenting his protection. To Harry, James had always +appeared to partake somewhat of the nature of a divinity; +if not Apollo or Jupiter, out and out, he was at least +Hercules, say, or Theseus. And though, in the very nature +of things in general and the fraternal relation in +particular, he was obliged outwardly to deny James' superiority +in everything and more especially the right to boss +younger brothers, he was acutely, almost pathetically, sensitive +to James' demeanor toward him and was entirely +ready to respond to any increase in good feeling, if James +would lead the way.</p> + +<p>James, with all his insight and quickness of perception, +failed to count upon the fact that Harry would be as slow +in making a parade of his feelings as he himself, and was +a little surprised that Harry made so slight a demonstration +of sorrow when, about a year after their mother's death, +James was sent off to school. Harry, indeed, sought to +cover his secret conviction that he would really miss his +brother very much by repeated harpings upon the blessings +that James' presence had ever kept from him, and +now, the obstacle being removed, would shower copiously +on his deserving, but hitherto officially unrecognized, head. +Now he would get the first go at all dishes at table, now +he would always sit on the box beside Thomas and drive, +now people would see whether he could not be on time +for breakfast without his brother's assistance, and so forth. +James smiled tolerantly at all such talk; he knew that it +did not amount to much, though even he failed to realize +quite how little.</p> + +<p>When the fatal morning came the brothers parted with +complete cordiality and every outward expression of mutual +contempt.</p> + +<p>"Be very careful about putting on your clothes in the +morning, kid," said James as the train that was to take him +off rolled into the station. "You put on your undershirt +first, remember, then your shirt and coat. Don't go putting +your undershirt over your coat; people might laugh."</p> + +<p>"All right, you dear thoughtful boy, I'll try to remember, +but I shall be pretty busy hoping that those other +kids'll lick the tar out of you, for the first time in your +innocent life. You're a good boy at heart, James; all +you need is to have the nonsense knocked out of you!"<span class="pagenum">[36]</span></p> + +<p>James' first letter to his brother from school, written +some ten days after his departure, is still extant, and may +be quoted in full as a document in the story.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="author1">St. Barnabas' School.</p> +<p class="author">October 5.</p> + +<p>Dear Harry:</p> + +<p>I meant to have written you before, but I have been +so busy that there was no time. This certainly is a fine +place, and I like it a lot already. There are 21 new boys +this term, which is fewer than usual, but they say we are +an unusually good crowd. We say so, at any rate! There +was a big rough-house in our corridor Saturday night. A +lot of the old boys came down and turned the new fellows +after lights were out, and also made them run the gauntlet +down the hall, standing at the sides and swatting them +with belts and things as they went by. That was much +worse than the turning, which did not amount to much. +I got turned five times, and Brush, the fellow that rooms +with me, six times. That was not much. There was one +chap that got turned 22 times that one night. That was +Hawley. They call him 'Stink' Hawley already, because +he is so dirty looking. They say he has not washed his +face since he came. Gosh, I wonder what you will be +called when you get here!"</p></blockquote> + +<p>"What a filthy lie!" shrieked Harry when he reached +this, making up in vehemence what he lacked in coherence. +His alleged aversion to the wash-basin was a standing +joke in the family, and any reference to it invariably +brought a rise.</p> + +<p>"Gracious, dear," murmured Aunt Agatha, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Let's hear," said his father, suspending judgment. +(The scene took place at the breakfast table.) Harry read +the letter aloud up to the point in question, and was relieved +to observe an exculpatory smile on his father's lips +when he stopped.</p> + +<p>"I admit there is an implication in that last remark," +said Hilary, "that might prove irritating. However, that's +no excuse for making a menagerie of yourself. What else +does James say?" Harry read on:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[37]</span></p><blockquote><p>There always is a big rough-house the first two or three +Saturday nights every year, and after that they keep +pretty quiet. They say the masters let them do what they +like, almost, those first nights, because they behave better +afterwards and it keeps the new boys from being too fresh. +That's what I'll be doing to you, you see, next year!</p> + +<p>I have been playing football every day, and am trying +for the fourth team. Do you remember Roswell Banks, +that boy we saw up at Northeast? He is going to make +the first team this year, probably. They say he tackles +better than any one else here. Kid Leffingwell also plays +a peach of a game, but he won't make the first this year. +He is too light, but he has got lots of nerve.</p> + +<p>I must stop now, so good-night.</p> + +<p class="author1">Your affectionate brother,</p> + +<p class="author smcap">James.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>The present writer has no quarrel with any one who is +unable to detect in this letter symptoms of any particularly +keen brotherly affection. It is his private opinion, however, +that such exist there. He thinks, <i>imprimis</i>, that +James, strange as it may appear, laid himself out to be +more agreeable in that letter than he would if he had +written it, say, a year previously. It is longer and fuller +than James' letters usually were. And—though this may +be drawing the point too fine—he thinks that the exclamation +point after "that's what I'll be doing to you next +year" would not have been put in under the old régime. +An exclamation point does so much toward toning down +and softening a disagreeable remark! And for the manner +of signature, of course James might have signed himself +like that to Harry at any time of his life. Yet the +writer, even at the risk of being called super-sensitive, will +not ignore the fact that most of James' letters to his brother +previous to this date are signed, more casually, "Yours +affect'ly," or "Ever yours," or simply "Good-by,—James," +and though he realizes that at best the point is +not an all-important one, he feels he can do no better than +give the reader all the information he has at his command, +be it never so trifling, and let him draw conclusions for himself.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[38]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">BABES IN THE WOOD</p> + +<p>One Saturday morning about a year after James went +away to school Harry bounded downstairs for breakfast +to find his father just leaving the dining room.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Father," he said, jumping up and kissing him +as usual. "You don't stay in the office this afternoon, do +you, Father? Why don't you take Bugs and me to the +game? Or you can take us for a ride in the car, if you +like; we'll meet you downtown for lunch, so as to save +time." (Bugs was for the moment Harry's <i>fidus Achates</i>; +a sort of vice-James.)</p> + +<p>"You will not, I fear," returned Hilary briefly. "I'm +going out of town for the day."</p> + +<p>"What, not in the car?"</p> + +<p>"In the car."</p> + +<p>"<i>All</i> day?"</p> + +<p>"All day. Leaving now, as soon as ever the car comes +round, and not getting back till late—perhaps not to-night."</p> + +<p>"Dash," remarked Harry. "I wish you'd go by train; +Graves told me he'd give me a lesson in running the +machine the next free Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Sorry. Next week, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going, anyway, Father?"</p> + +<p>"My business."</p> + +<p>"Going to take Graves?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What, all alone? You'll be lonely. Why don't you +take Aunt Agatha?"</p> + +<p>"No, I shan't be lonely and I'm not going to take Aunt +Agatha. I'll tell you what I am going to do, however; I'm +going to send you away to school, and that next term. You +have a pretty glib tongue in your head, Harry my boy, and +I think perhaps young gentlemen of your own age will be +even better able to appreciate it than I am."</p> + +<p>But Harry was far too elated by the news to pay much +heed to the rebuke. He became inarticulate with delight,<span class="pagenum">[39]</span> +and his father went calmly on with his preparations for departure.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll have a talk with Hodgman about the exams.... There's +the car, at last—I must run. Where did I +put those water rights, anyway? Oh.... Yes, I think +you'll probably have to do extra work in algebra this +term.... Take care of yourself; we'll have a spree next +week if I can arrange it," and so forth, enough to cover +sorting a morning's mail, progress into the front hall, +donning a hat and overcoat—no, the dark one, and where +are the gray gloves, dash it?—and a triumphal exit in a +motor car. Harry watched the retreating vehicle with +mingled regret and admiration. Hilary made a striking +and debonair picture as he whirled along in his scarlet +chariot—they ran a great deal to bright red paint in those +early days, if you'll remember—and people would run to +catch a glimpse of him as he dashed by and talk about it +at length at the next meal. But it occurred to Harry that +he would complete the picture very nicely, sitting there +at his father's side. He wished fervently that he could +ever make his father remember that Saturday was Saturday.</p> + +<p>This parting conversation was redeemed from the oblivion +of trivial things and inscribed indelibly on Harry's memory +by the fact that it was the last he ever had with his father.</p> + +<p>The day passed like any other day and at its close the +household went to bed as usual, boding no ill. Toward +midnight the telephone rang and Aunt Agatha arose and +answered it. The voice at the other end introduced itself +as Police Headquarters and inquired, as an afterthought, +if this was Mr. Wimbourne's house. Yet, it was. Headquarters +then expressed a desire to know if any of the +family was there and, without waiting for a reply, asked +with perceptible animation if this was one of the girls +speaking? Aunt Agatha answered, in a tone which in another +person would have been called frigid, that this was +Miss Fraile.</p> + +<p>Headquarters appeared duly impressed; at least he +seemed to have difficulty in finding words in which to continue. +Aunt Agatha's crisp inquiry of what was it, please? +at last moved him to admit there had been an accident. +Yes, to Mr. Wimbourne. The automobile did it; ran into +a telegraph pole down near Port Chester. Pretty bad<span class="pagenum">[40]</span> +smash-up; couldn't say just how bad.... Was Mr. Wimbourne +badly hurt? Well, yes, pretty badly; the machine—Was +Mr. Wimbourne killed? Well, yes, he was, if you +put it that way. His body would arrive sometime next +morning....</p> + +<p>This was the sort of occasion on which Aunt Agatha shone +as a perfect model of efficiency. She spent an hour or more +telegraphing and telephoning, prayed extensively, returned +to her bed and slept soundly till seven. Then she arose +and gave directions to the servants. It was breakfast time +before she remembered that she had yet to tell Harry.</p> + +<p>Then, as he appeared so cheerfully and ignorantly at the +breakfast table, Aunt Agatha's heart failed her. Her presence +of mind also left her; she blurted out a few words to +the effect that his father had had a bad accident, wished she +had let him eat his breakfast in ignorance, hoped despairingly +that he would guess the truth from her perturbation. +But even this was denied her; he asked a great many +questions and refused to eat till she made him, but gave +no sign of suspecting anything beyond what she told him.</p> + +<p>She saw that the suspense of waiting for his father's return +would tell on him more than the worst certainty, but +still she could not bring herself to break the truth to him. +When at last she nerved herself to do it, it was too late.</p> + +<p>"Come here and sit down by me, Harry," she said gently, +but Harry, who was standing at one of the front windows, +listlessly replied:</p> + +<p>"Wait, there's something coming up the street."</p> + +<p>"Just a minute, dear, I want to talk to you," said Aunt +Agatha, going over and trying to push him gently away from +the window. But Harry's attention was caught and he +refused to move.</p> + +<p>"I thought it might be Father. Do you think it's +Father, Aunt Agatha? It moves so slowly I can't see.... Yes, +it's turning in at the gate. What sort of a +thing is it, anyway?..."</p> + +<p>The next moment his own eyes answered the question, +and with a little cry he toppled backward into her arms.</p> + +<p>James' reception of the news was characteristically different. +His behavior was generally referred to by the +family as "wonderful." He certainly was very calm +throughout. He was informed of his father's death on +the Sunday morning by the headmaster of his school,<span class="pagenum">[41]</span> +to whom Aunt Agatha had telegraphed the night before.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I'd better go home," was his first comment.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you had," replied the schoolmaster, and he +was rather at a loss for what to say next. He had certainly +expected more of a demonstration than this. "Somebody +had better go with you. Whom would you like to have +go?"</p> + +<p>James hesitated and blushed. "Do you suppose Marston +would come?" he said at last, in a low voice. Marston, +a long-legged sixth former, was James' idol at present; +to ask him to do something for one was like calling the very +gods down from Olympus.</p> + +<p>"I am sure he would," said the headmaster, who understood, +perfectly. "I will send for him now and ask him."</p> + +<p>So Marston accompanied James on his dreary homeward +journey, though his presence was not in the least necessary, +and James sat covertly gazing at him in mute adoration all +the way. His thoughts were actually less on his father's +death during this journey than on the wonderful, incredible +fact that anything like a mere family death could throw +him into intimate intercourse with Marston for a whole day.</p> + +<p>But of course he gave no sign of this, and Marston, like +a real god, seemed entirely unconscious of the immensity +of the blessing he was conferring. He spent the night at +the Wimbournes', behaving himself in his really rather trying +position with the greatest ease and seemliness, and +even submitted with a becoming grace to the kiss which +Aunt Cecilia impulsively placed on his brow when she bade +him farewell next morning.</p> + +<p>"You're a dear good boy," she said softly, as she did +it; "thank you, again and again, for what you've done."</p> + +<p>James, who was a witness to this episode, nearly sank +through the floor with shame. That a relative of his should +kiss—actually, <i>kiss</i> Marston—! He felt like throwing himself +on the ground and imploring Marston's pardon, dedicating +himself to his service for life as an expiation.</p> + +<p>Yet Marston only blushed and laughed a little and said +he had done nothing, and bade good-by to James with unimpaired +cordiality.</p> + +<p>Aunt Cecilia had been the first of the relatives to arrive +on the spot after Hilary's death, and she remained commander-in-chief +of the relief forces throughout. But her +command was not a complete or unquestioned one. Among<span class="pagenum">[42]</span> +the relatives that assembled at the Wimbourne house on +that Sunday and Monday for Hilary's funeral was one with +whom the story has hitherto had no dealings, but who was a +very important force in the family, for all that. This was +Lady Fletcher, Hilary's younger sister, by all odds the +handsomest and most naturally gifted of her generation. +She was the wife of an English army officer, Sir Giles +Fletcher, who, having won his major-generalship and a +K.C.B. by distinguished service with Kitchener in the +Soudan, and being physically incapacitated by that campaign +for further service in the tropics, was now, with the +able assistance of his wife, devoting his declining years +to politics. Lady Fletcher, by the discreet exercise of +her social qualities, had succeeded in making herself in the +five years since her husband had entered Parliament, one +of the most important political hostesses in London. At +the time of Hilary's death she was paying one of her flying +autumn visits to the country of her birth, in which her +headquarters was always her brother James' house in New +York.</p> + +<p>She and James had gone up to New Haven on the Sunday +afternoon in a leisurely fashion several hours in the wake +of Aunt Cecilia, who had rushed off, without so much as +packing a bag, the moment she received Miss Fraile's telegram +that morning. Miriam—that was her Christian +name—always felt that she and her brother James understood +one another better than any other members of the +family, and it was her private opinion that they between +them possessed more of the rare gift of common sense than +all the other Wimbournes put together, with their wives +and husbands thrown in. During the short two-hour +journey from New York to New Haven neither she nor her +brother appeared so overcome by sorrow over their recent +loss that they were not able to discuss the newly created situation +pretty satisfactorily, or, to "be practical" as Lady +Fletcher was fond of putting it.</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to smoke, James?" she asked, as her +brother, shortly after the train had started, exhibited preparatory +signs of a restlessness which she knew would +culminate in an apologetic exit to the smoking car. "Please +don't; I can't, on the train, and the thought of your doing +it would make me miserable." She stopped for a moment, +reflecting that there was perhaps that in the air<span class="pagenum">[43]</span> +which ought to make her miserable anyway; then went on, +with a significantly lowered voice. "Beside, I want to +talk to you; we may not get another chance...."</p> + +<p>"Well?" said James at length.</p> + +<p>"Don't be irritating, James; you know what I mean, +perfectly. Can't you turn your chair around a little +nearer? I don't want to shout.... Tell me, first, who are +to be the guardians? Now don't say you don't know, because +you do."</p> + +<p>"I do, as a matter of fact. You and I, jointly. That's +the one thing I do know, for sure."</p> + +<p>"I felt sure it would be that, somehow.... Why me, I +wonder? and if me at all, why you? However, it might +have been worse, of course."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think he was right, on the whole." So perfect +was the unspoken understanding between these two that, +if a third person had interrupted at this moment and +asked, point blank, what they were talking about, both +would have replied, without a moment's hesitation, +"Selina," though her name had not passed their lips.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's to be done?" Lady Fletcher exhibited, to +James' trained eye, preliminary symptoms of a "practical" +seizure.</p> + +<p>"Can't tell anything for certain, till we see the will. I +shall see Raynham in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but haven't you any idea ..."</p> + +<p>"Oh, none! You were not a witness, were you?... if +that's any comfort to you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I have no expectations." This was uttered +in Lady Fletcher's best snubbing tone, impossible to describe. +"Please be practical, James. What is going to +become of those two boys?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there are several possibilities. First, there's their +aunt...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the Fraile woman? I've never met her. Isn't +she ... well, a trifle...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite. She's a leading candidate for the position +of first American saint. But there'd be no point in keeping +on with her, with James away at school and Harry +ready to go."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really? I didn't realize."</p> + +<p>"No," continued James, raising his eyes to his sister's +and smiling slightly, "what it will come to will be that I<span class="pagenum">[44]</span> +shall have six children instead of four. Or rather, seven +instead of five."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really?" This in a changed tone from the lady.</p> + +<p>"Yes, hasn't she told you? April."</p> + +<p>"No." The practical mood seemed to have undergone +a setback; there was something new in that monosyllable, +irritation, a twinge of pain, perhaps. An outside observer +might have thought this was due to Miriam's having been +left out of her sister-in-law's confidence, but James knew +better. He felt sorry for his sister; he knew that her childlessness +was the one blight on her career.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you should do it, James." This after +a long interval of silent thought on the part of Miriam, and +passive observation of the rushing autumn landscape on +the part of James. "I don't see why, when I'm equally responsible. +It isn't a question of money, so much—I suppose +that will be left all right?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, undoubtedly. Though I don't know just how."</p> + +<p>"It's more than that; it's the responsibility, the bother. +There's no use in saying that one more, or two more, don't +matter, for they do; and there's no use in saying that they +would both be away at school, for, though that would +make a difference, of course, you never can tell what is +going to turn up. No matter what did happen, it would +always fall on you—and Cecilia."</p> + +<p>"That's all very true, perhaps, but—"</p> + +<p>"And remember this; it's not as if you didn't have four—five +already, and I none."</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> you driving at, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? I want to take one, or both of them, +myself."</p> + +<p>"Whee-ew." This was not, strictly speaking, an observation, +but rather a sort of vocalized whistle, the larynx +helping out the lips. "You do rush things so, Miriam! +Aside from the consideration of whether it would be advisable +or not, do you realize what opposition there'd be?"</p> + +<p>"Why? What, I mean, that could not be properly overcome? +You are one guardian, I the other; I take one boy, +you the other. What is there strange about such a course? +Or I could take both together."</p> + +<p>"I should be against James leaving the country, myself. +He is safely started in his school; doing well there; striking +his <i>milieu</i>. Why disturb him?"<span class="pagenum">[45]</span></p> + +<p>"Well, Harry, then. What sort of a child is he, James? +I haven't seen either of them for three years, but as I remember +it, I liked James best. Rather the manly type, +isn't he? Not but what the other seemed a nice enough +child...."</p> + +<p>"Harry? Oh, he'll have the brains of his generation, +without doubt. Yes, I'm not surprised at your liking +James best. There are plenty of people who find Harry +the more attractive, however. He's got winning ways. +But—are you serious about this, Miriam?"</p> + +<p>"Serious? Certainly!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what's the point? Do we want to make an Englishman +out of the boy? And do you want to separate +them? Wouldn't that smack a little of—well, of Babes +in the Wood? Cruel uncles and things, you know?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so. We wouldn't want to do that, of +course. It wouldn't be for always, anyway. But even if +he went to an English public school, which I should prefer +to an American one, particularly for that type ... they +would always have vacations. You are here, and I am +there, and we would keep running across pretty frequently. +Besides," here Lady Fletcher again changed her tone, and +generally gave the impression of preparing to start another +maneuver; "besides, there's another element in it—Giles. +He's devoted to children. He would come as near being a +father to the boy, if he liked him, as any one could. And—do +you realize what that might mean for him—for +Harry?" Miriam stopped, significantly, and looked her +brother straight in the eye for a moment. "The Rumbold +property is very large, and Giles will certainly come into +it before long...."</p> + +<p>"I see," said James, slowly nodding his head; "I see. +Though I wouldn't sacrifice anything definite to that +chance. Beside, what about the Carson family?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'm not saying there's any certainty; it's just +one of the things to be counted on.... Leaving Harry out +of consideration for the moment, it would be a wonderful +thing for Giles. I can't think of anything Giles would +rather have; it would be like giving him a son. And if +you knew how wild English people of a certain class and +type are about children—! Giles has never got on well +with the Carson children, for some reason."</p> + +<p>"That's all very fine, Miriam, but we mustn't leave Harry<span class="pagenum">[46]</span> +out of consideration, since it's him we're the guardians of, +and not Giles—at least, I am.... I'm inclined to think +there is something in what you say, though I should be +definitely against making an Englishman of him—you understand +that?" Lady Fletcher nodded, and her brother +continued: "It would certainly have an admirably broadening +influence, if all went right. And I'm not sure but +what you're right about English public schools. Even for +American boys. But—" here he smiled quizzically at his +sister—"did you ever hear of a person called Selina Wimbourne?"</p> + +<p>Lady Fletcher laughed. "You've hit it this time, I +fancy! Honestly, James—" the practical mood was now in +complete abeyance—"though I've knocked around a good +deal with swells and terrifying people and all that, I have +never been so cowed by the mere presence of any individual +as I have been by my sister Selina. Did it ever occur to +you, James, that Selina runs this family—well, as the +engineer runs this train?"</p> + +<p>"Something very like it—yes."</p> + +<p>"At any rate, I have a premonition in the present instance +that as Selina jumps the tree will fall ... fancy +Selina jumping out of a tree! It will have to be most carefully +put to her—if it is put."</p> + +<p>"If it is put—exactly. We must see how things lie before +doing anything.—What, already?" This to a negro +porter, who was exhibiting willingness to be of service. +"We must look alive—the next stop's New Haven. Mind +you don't say anything too soon, now; easy does it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course.—No, Bridgeport, isn't it?—What, +don't we, any more?... But you are on my side, in the +main, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Conditionally, yes—that is, if all parties seem agreeable. +The one thing I won't stand for is—well, Babes in the +Wood business."</p> + +<p>"James, what do you think of my taking Harry off to +England with me?" said Aunt Miriam to her elder nephew +a day or two later.</p> + +<p>"I think it would be fine," was his reply, and then after +a pause: "For how long, though?"</p> + +<p>This was going nearer to the heart of the matter than +the lady cared to penetrate, so she merely answered:</p> + +<p>"Oh, one can't tell; a few months; perhaps more, if he<span class="pagenum">[47]</span> +wants to stay." Seeing that he swallowed this without apparent +effort, she went on: "What should you say to his +going to school in England, when he is able, for a time?"</p> + +<p>James' expression underwent no change, but he only +answered stiffly, "I think he had better come to St. Barnabas, +when he is able," and his aunt let the matter drop +there.</p> + +<p>It was in Aunt Cecilia, and not Aunt Selina, that Lady +Fletcher found the most formidable opposition. Miss Wimbourne, +indeed, quite took to the idea when her half-sister, +very carefully and with not a little concealed trepidation, +suggested it to her. She took it, as Miriam more vividly +put it to her brother, "like milk."</p> + +<p>"That is not a bad plan, Miriam, not a bad plan at all," +she said in the quiet voice that could be so firm when it +wanted. "I can see why there are good reasons why neither +of the boys should live in New Haven. For the present, +you know. James will be at school, and will spend his +vacations with James' family, and Harry will be with +you until he is ready to do the same. I do not see but what +it is a very good arrangement. I am perfectly willing to +do my part in taking care of them, but I am not nearly so +useful in that way as either you or James."</p> + +<p>But not so with Mrs. James. Her husband first spoke +to her of the scheme before breakfast on the Monday morning, +and she took immediate and articulate exception to it. +The plan was forced, dangerous, artificial, cruel, unnecessary, +short-sighted; in fact, it wouldn't do at all. There +was no telling what Miriam would do with him, once he +was over there, and no telling when she would let him come +back to what had been, what ought to be, and what, if she +(Mrs. James) had any say in the matter, was going to be +his Home. It would make her extremely unhappy to +think of that child spending his vacations—or his whole +time for that matter—with any one but his uncle and +natural guardian ("Miriam is his guardian, too," James +attempted to say, but no attention was paid to him), his +aunt and his young cousins. As for all that business about +Giles Fletcher, it was Perfect Nonsense. Before she would +give an instant's consideration to such—to such an absurdity, +she (Mrs. James) would give the boy every scrap +of money she had, or was ever going to have, outright, and +would end the matter then and there. (This would have<span class="pagenum">[48]</span> +been a really appalling threat, if it was meant seriously, +for Cecilia was due to inherit millions.) As for sending +him to an English public school, she thought it would be +the cruelest, most unfeeling, most ridiculous thing possible, +seeing Harry was what he was. If it had been James, +now—!</p> + +<p>But the gods fought on Miriam's side. Cecilia went into +the library during the latter part of the morning and discovered +young James alone there. She found him uncommunicative +and solemn, which, in the nature of things, +was only to be expected; and he took her completely by surprise +by asking after a few moments, in the most ordinary +tone:</p> + +<p>"Who is Marcelline Lefèbre, Aunt Cecilia?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. James stifled a gasp, and waited before replying +till she was sure of her voice.</p> + +<p>"Why? How did you ever hear of her?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, in this. There's a lot more about it to-day. She +was badly hurt, wasn't she?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. James looked up and saw the newspaper lying open +on the desk in front of which James was sitting.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes.... An actress, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James, "it says that here." The words and +tone clearly implied that James expected her to tell him +something he did not know already, but she parried.</p> + +<p>"Had you ever heard of her before?"</p> + +<p>"No, never. That's just the funny part of it. Why +should we never have heard of a person Father knew well +enough to take out to ride? Did you ever know her?"</p> + +<p>"No; merely heard of her. Oh, it's not to be wondered +at; he had lots of acquaintances, of course." This was +definite enough to indicate that she had told him all she +intended to, and both were silent for a while. But presently +a new thought occurred to her and she began again:</p> + +<p>"Tell me, James, does Harry know anything about Mme. +Lefèbre?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of; not unless he heard of her ... +before."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think it would be a good plan if you didn't +mention her name to him, or talk about her in his presence."</p> + +<p>"All right. Why, though—particularly?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about that. At least," she caught herself<span class="pagenum">[49]</span> +up, realizing, perhaps, that this was treating him too much +<i>en enfant</i>; "at least, I think it would be just as well for +him not to know anything about her. It might worry him. +Particularly in his present state. There is no reason why +he should see the papers, or hear anything."</p> + +<p>"I see," said James, quietly, staring out of the window. +He saw far too well, poor boy, was Aunt Cecilia's thought.</p> + +<p>But the conversation started her off on a new line of +thought in regard to Harry. Harry was so different from +James; if he once smelled a rat he would go nosing about +till he found him, even if he undermined the foundations +of his own happiness in so doing. And Harry was the +kind that smelled rats.... Inevitably her thoughts wandered +around to Lady Fletcher's scheme, and beheld it in +a new light. There was a certain amount of common sense +in the plan, so viewed; there would certainly be fewer +rats in London than anywhere in this country. And after +all, what was the danger in his going to England? Miriam +would not eat him, neither would Giles; Miriam must really +be fond of him if she wanted to take him—Miriam would +hardly do anything against her own inclination, she reflected, +a little bitterly.</p> + +<p>She presented her changed front to her husband that +evening, and the upshot of it all was that Harry was to go +to England. The whole family adjourned to New York +after the funeral, and steamship plans and sailings were +in the air. James went with them; it was decided that he +was not to return to school till Harry sailed with his aunt.</p> + +<p>Harry himself took most kindly to the scheme; seemed, +indeed, to prefer it to St. Barnabas. He flaunted his +superior fortune in the face of his brother, making comparisons +between the British Isles and St. Barnabas, greatly +to the detriment of the latter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'll write to you," he said airily during one of +these conversations; "that is, if I can find a minute to do +it in. Of course I shall be pretty busy, with pantomimes, +and theaters, and parties, and—and the Zoo, and all that."</p> + +<p>"Fudge," said James calmly; "you'll be homesick as a +cat before you've been there a week."</p> + +<p>"Then when I get tired of that I may go to school—if +I feel like it. Aunt Miriam says she knows of one that +would just do. Not Eton or Rugby, or anything like that; +a school for younger boys. This one is in a beautiful big<span class="pagenum">[50]</span> +house, Aunt Miriam says, with lots of grounds and things +about. Park, you know, like Windsor. And deer in it. +And the house was built in the reign of Charles the First."</p> + +<p>"Bet you don't even know when that was. What's the +use in having that kind of place for a school, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"St. Barnabas," replied Harry with hauteur, "was built +in the reign of Queen Victoria."</p> + +<p>"Queen nothing! Gosh, if you talk rot like this now, +what'll you be when you've been over there a while?"</p> + +<p>"Then I may go to Eton, or one of those places, later." +This was merely to bring a rise; Harry had no idea of +completing his education anywhere but at St. Barnabas'.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a fine time you'd have there! A fine time you'd +have with those kids. Lords, Dukes, and things. Gosh, +wouldn't you be sick of them, and oh, but they'd be sick +of you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Harry; "good fellows, lords. +Some of them, that is. I might be made one myself, in +time, who knows?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you might, mightn't you?" James was laughing +now. "Nothing more likely, I should think. Lord Harry, +Earl Harry!"</p> + +<p>Harry replied in kind, and hostilities ensued.</p> + +<p>This was all more or less as it should be, and the mutual +attitude was maintained up to the actual moment of sailing—after +it, indeed, for when Harry last saw his brother he +was standing on the very end of the dock and shouting +"Give my love to the earls!" and similar pleasantries to +the small head that protruded itself out of the great black +moving wall above him; above him now, and now not so +much above, but some distance off, and presently not a +great black wall at all, but the side of a perfectly articulate +ship, way out in the river.</p> + +<p>Uncle James and his wife, also their eldest child, Ruth, +a girl of nine or thereabouts, all came down to the dock +with James to see the travelers off, and as they arrived +hours and hours, as Miriam put it, before there was any +question of sailing, there was a good deal of standing about +in saloons and on decks and talking about nothing in particular, +pending the moment when gongs would be rung and +people begin to talk jocularly about getting left and having +to climb down with the pilot. They all went down to see +the staterooms, which adjoined each other and were pronounced<span class="pagenum">[51]</span> +satisfactory. Aunt Cecilia said she was glad Harry +could have his window open at night without a draught +blowing on him, and Aunt Miriam remarked that it was nice +to have the ship all to one's self, practically, which was +so different from Coming Over, and Uncle James added +that when he crossed on the <i>Persia</i> in '69 as a mere kid, +there were only fifteen people in the first cabin and none +of them ever appeared in the dining room after the first +day except himself and the captain. After this, conversation +rather lagged and there was a general adjournment +to the deck. A few passengers, accompanied by their stay-at-home +friends and relations, wandered about the halls +and stairways, saying that autumn voyages were not always +so bad and that you never could tell about the ocean, +at any season; which amounted to admitting that they +probably would be seasick, though they hoped not. Our +friends, the Wimbournes, had little to say on even this all-absorbing +topic, for Harry, who had crossed once before, +had proved himself a qualmless sailor, and Aunt Miriam +had crossed so often that she had got all over that sort of +thing, years ago.</p> + +<p>Uncle James was presently despatched to see what mischief +those boys were getting that child into, and the two +ladies wandered into the main lounge and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Anything more different than the appearance of a +steamship saloon while the ship is in dock from what it +looks like when she is careering round at sea can hardly +be imagined," murmured Lady Fletcher, pleasantly, with +no intention of being comprehended or replied to. Mrs. +James' polite and conscientious rejoinder of "What was +that, Miriam?"—she had not, of course, been listening—piqued +the other lady ever so slightly. It was not real annoyance, +merely the rather tired feeling that comes over +one when a companion sounds a note out of one's own +mood.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing; merely what a difference it makes, being +out on the open sea."</p> + +<p>"Yes, doesn't it?... Harry will—"</p> + +<p>"Harry will what?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing." Mrs. James blushed a little. She was going +to say, "Harry will have to be looked out for, or he will +go climbing over places where he shouldn't and fall overboard," +or something to that effect, but she decided not to,<span class="pagenum">[52]</span> +fearing that her sister-in-law would think her fussy. Lady +Fletcher accepted the omission, and went on to talk of the +next thing that came into her mind, which was Business. +There were some Lackawanna shares, it appeared, part of +Harry's property, the dividends on which James was going +to pay regularly to the London banker for defraying +Harry's expenses, and James might have forgotten to do +something, or else not to do something, in connection with +these. Lady Fletcher wandered on to American railroad +stock, making several remarks which, in the absence of +brothers, with their satirical smiles, remained unchallenged. +Poor Aunt Cecilia, who could neither keep on nor off her +sister-in-law's line of thought, unluckily broke in on the +Union Pacific with the malapropos remark:</p> + +<p>"Miriam, Harry has got to be made to wear woolen stockings +in the winter, no matter what he says ..."</p> + +<p>Lady Fletcher was amused. "I declare, Cecilia," she +said, "you think I am no more capable of taking care of +that boy than of ruling a state!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. James did not smile in reply; the remark came +too near to describing her actual state of mind.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miriam, with four children of one's own, one +may be expected to learn a thing or two; it isn't all as easy +as it seems. Beside, I am fond of the boy; I suppose I +may be excused for that ..."</p> + +<p>"I can certainly excuse it; I am fond of him myself." +Lady Fletcher was trying to conceal her irritation. Perhaps +the suavity of her tone was a little overdone; at any +rate, it only served to make Mrs. James' face a little rosier +and her voice a little harder as she replied:</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think, Miriam, that because I have four +children of my own to fuss over, I might be expected to +let the others alone, and I daresay you're right; but all +that I know is, my heart isn't made that way. I have +noticed you during these last weeks, and I am sure that +you have felt as I say. But if you think that because I +have four of my own to love, and therefore have less to +give to those two motherless boys, you are mistaken. The +more you have to love, the more you love each one of them, +separately—not the less, as you might know if you had +children of your own ..."</p> + +<p>She stopped, unable to say any more. Her words were +much more cruel than she intended them to be; that is,<span class="pagenum">[53]</span> +they fell much more cruelly than she meant them to on +Lady Fletcher's ears. She had no idea, of course, of the +deep though vain yearning for offspring of her own that +filled her sister-in-law's bosom; Miriam could not possibly +have expressed this, the deepest and most tragic thing in +her life, to Cecilia. She was made that way. The more +poignantly she felt what she had missed, the more determinedly +she concealed every trace of her feeling from +the outside world.</p> + +<p>So it was now. Every ounce of feeling in her flared for +a moment into hate; the hate of the childless woman for +the mother. The flame fell after a second or two, of +course, and she was able to reply, unsmilingly and coldly:</p> + +<p>"I think that Harry will be as well treated by me as +you could wish, Cecilia."</p> + +<p>Mother love, nothing else, was responsible for all the +hardness and bitterness in her tone. But Mrs. James knew +nothing of this; she only felt the hardness and bitterness +and judged the speaker accordingly.</p> + +<p>That was all. The quarrel, if such it could be called, +died down as quickly as it had flared up, for it was impossible +for these two well-bred ladies to fall out and fight like +fishwives. Lady Fletcher's last remark made further discussion +of the subject, or any other subject, for the time +being, impossible, and after a minute the two rose by tacit +consent and went out to find the others.</p> + +<p>By the time they found them they were both as calm and +self-possessed as usual. When, after a little more standing +around, the gongs were rung and the time for farewell +actually arrived, Lady Fletcher kissed her nephew and +niece with neither more nor less than her usual cordiality, +and Mrs. James was exactly as affectionate in her farewells +to Harry as might have been expected. The two +ladies also embraced each other with no sign of ill-feeling. +Lady Fletcher's good-humor was unabated in quantity, if +just a little strained in quality.</p> + +<p>"Now comes the most amusing part of sailing," she +said, "which is, watching other people cry. Don't tell +me people don't love to cry better than anything else in the +world; if not, why do they come down here? You might +think that every one of them was being torn away from his +home and country for life!"</p> + +<p>"The time when I always want to cry most," contributed<span class="pagenum">[54]</span> +Uncle James, "is on landing. Everything is so disagreeable +then, after the ease and comfort of the voyage."</p> + +<p>That was the general tone of the parting. Even Aunt +Cecilia smiled appreciatively and gave no sign of underlying +emotion. But as she watched the great steamer glide +slowly out of her slip her thoughts ran in such channels as +these:</p> + +<p>"Miriam is a brilliant woman; she has made a great +lady of herself, and is going to be a still greater one. She +has money, position, wit, beauty and youth. The greatest +people come gladly to her house; small people scheme and +plot to get invitations there. Yet what is it all worth, +when the greatest blessing of all, the blessing of children, +is denied her? And the terrible part of it is, she is so utterly +unconscious of what she has missed; her whole heart +is eaten up with those worldly and unsatisfactory things. +Poor Miriam, I pity her as it is, but how I could pity her if +it were all a little different!"</p> + +<p>And the thoughts of Lady Fletcher, as she stood on the +deck and watched the shores slip away from her, were +somewhat as follows:</p> + +<p>"I always thought Cecilia was one of the best of women, +until this hour. I don't mind her being a great heiress, +I don't mind her never being able to forget that she was +a Van Lorn, I don't mind her subconscious attitude of +having married beneath her when she married James—whose +ancestors were governing colonies when hers were +keeping a grocery store on lower Manhattan Island—! +But when it comes to her boasting about having children, +and flaunting them in my face because I haven't got any, +I think I am about justified in saying that she shows a +mean and ignoble nature. I have seen all I want to of +Cecilia, for some time to come!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[55]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p class="h3">ARCADIA AND YANKEEDOM</p> + +<p>We have given a more or less detailed account of the +misunderstanding just described because of the fact +that the mental relation it inaugurated was responsible, +more than any one other thing, for the separation of Harry +and James Wimbourne for a period of nearly seven years.</p> + +<p>No one, not even Lady Fletcher herself, had any idea +that this would come to pass at the time Harry left the +country. One thing led on to another; Harry was put in +a preparatory school for two or three terms soon after his +arrival in England; he was so happy there and the climate +and the school life agreed with him so well that it seemed +the most natural thing, a year or so later, to send him up to +Harrow with some of his youthful contemporaries, with +whom he had formed some close friendships. This was +done, be it understood, in accordance with Harry's own +wish. There was an atmosphere, a quality, a historical +feeling about the English schools that after a short time +exerted a strong influence on Harry's adolescent imagination, +and made St. Barnabas seem flat and unprofitable in +comparison. It would not have been so with many boys, +but it was with Harry.</p> + +<p>Of course James was a strong magnet in the other direction, +but not quite strong enough to pull him against all +the forces contending on the English side. There was a +distinct heart-interest there; within a year after Harry's +arrival in the country, the majority of his friends were +English boys. How many vice-Jameses were needed to +offset the pull of one James we don't know, but we do know +that there were enough. James at first objected strenuously +to the change in plans, but Harry countered the objection +with the proposal that James should leave St. Barnabas +and go up to Harrow with his brother. This was +considered on the American side as such an inexplicable +attitude that further argument was abandoned and the +matter of Harry's schooling given up as a bad job.</p> + +<p>The one valid objection to Harrow was that if Harry was<span class="pagenum">[56]</span> +to become an American citizen, the place to educate him +was in America. Sir Giles saw this, and gave the objection +its full value.</p> + +<p>"If I were to consult my own inclination alone," he +said to Harry when they were talking the matter over, "I +should undoubtedly want to make an Englishman out of +you. I think you would make a pretty good Englishman, +Harry. You could go to Oxford, and then make your +career here. Parliament, you know, or the diplomatic. +But there seems to be some feeling against such a course. +They want you to be an American. They seem to think +that your having been born and bred an American makes +some difference. Fancy!"</p> + +<p>"Fancy!" echoed Harry, as capable as any one of falling +in with the spirit of what Lady Fletcher called Sir +Giles' "arising-out-of-that-reply" manner.</p> + +<p>"And I won't say they are wholly wrong. The question +is, can we make a good American of you over here in +England? By the time you have gone through Harrow, +won't you be an Englishman of the most confirmed type? +Won't you disappoint everybody and slip from there into +Oxford, as it were, automatically?"</p> + +<p>"I am of the opinion," replied Harry judicially, "that +the honorable member's fears on that score are ungrounded. +You see, Uncle G.," he went on, dropping his parliamentary +manner, "I shall go back to America to go to college, anyway. +I couldn't possibly go anywhere except to Yale. +We've gone to Yale, you see, for three generations already."</p> + +<p>"I thought, when you came over here, that you couldn't +possibly go to school anywhere except at St. Barnabas. +It seems to me I remember something of that kind."</p> + +<p>"This is quite different," said Harry firmly, "quite different. +I was brought up in Yale, practically. I'm sure I +could never be happy anywhere but there. Besides, I +don't want to become an Englishman. That's all rot."</p> + +<p>"Well," said his uncle, "if that's the case, we'll risk it. +And—" he unconsciously quoted his wife on a former occasion—"there +are always the vacations."</p> + +<p>But that is just where the honorable member proved +himself mistaken. The vacations weren't there, after all. +And that was where the mutual misunderstanding between +the two ladies came in.<span class="pagenum">[57]</span></p> + +<p>We don't mean to say that this was wholly responsible +for the uninterrupted separation. Other things came into +it; coincidence, mere fortuitous circumstances. Plans were +made, on both sides of the Atlantic, but they were always +interrupted, for some reason or another. James and Cecilia +would write cheerfully about coming over next summer +and bringing young James and one or two of their own +children with them. That would be from about October to +January. Then, along in the winter, it would appear +that their plans for the summer were not settled, after all. +Ruth was not well enough to travel this year, or James +could not leave his work and Cecilia could not leave him. +Or, on the other hand, Aunt Miriam would talk breezily at +times of taking Giles over and showing him the country—Giles +had never been to America except to marry his wife—and +taking Harry too, of course; or she would casually +suggest running over with him for a fortnight at Christmas. +But Harry's summer vacation was so short, only eight +weeks, and there were Visits to be made in September; the +kind of visits that implied enormous shooting parties and +full particulars in the <i>Morning Post</i>. And when Christmas +drew near either Giles or Miriam would develop a bad +bronchial cough and have to be packed off to Sicily. It +is odd how things like that will crop up when two women +are fully determined to have nothing to do with each other.</p> + +<p>And the boys themselves, could they not go over alone and +stay with their relations, at least as soon as they were old +enough to make the voyage unaccompanied? James wanted +to do something of that kind very much at times; wanted to +far more than Harry, who thought that he would have +enough of America later on and was meanwhile anxious to +get as much out of the continent of Europe as possible. One +reason why James never did anything of the sort was that +he was afraid; actually a little afraid to go over, unsupported, +and find out what they had made of Harry. James' +thoughts were apt to run in fixed channels; after he had +been a year or two at St. Barnabas, the idea that there was +another school in the country, fit for Harry to attend, or in +any other country, never entered his head. Harry's decision +in favor of Harrow, and particularly Harry's lighthearted +suggestion that he should come over and go to Harrow +with him, filled his soul with consternation. He, +James, leave St. Barnabas for Harrow!...<span class="pagenum">[58]</span></p> + +<p>And to the receptive mind the mere fact that Aunt Cecilia +was at this time his closest friend and confidante will explain +much. She never made derogatory remarks to him about +his Aunt Miriam, nor did she reveal to him, any more than +to any one else, the antagonism of feeling that existed between +them; but in some subtle, unfelt way she imparted +her own attitude to him, which was, in a word, Keep Away. +She herself would have said, if any one asked her point +blank, that she had Given Harry Up. She never approved +of his staying over to be educated; she would have had him +back, away from Miriam and Europe (Aunt Cecilia wasted +no love on that Continent) inside two months, if she could +have had her own way. But her opinion was worth nothing; +she was not the boy's guardian!</p> + +<p>There was a time, two or three years after his arrival in +England, when Harry was consumed by a desire to see his +brother again, if only for a few weeks. He told his Uncle +Giles about it—he soon fell into the habit of confiding in him +sooner than in his aunt—and Uncle Giles sympathized +readily with his wish, and promised to run over to America +with him the next summer. But when, a few days before +the date of their sailing, Harry came home from school, his +uncle met him in the library with a grave face and told him +that he had been called upon to stand for his party in a +by-election early in September, and could not possibly leave +the country before that. Afterward there would be no time.</p> + +<p>"It is quite a compliment to me," explained Sir Giles; +"they want me to go in for them at West Bolton because it +is a doubtful and important borough, and they think I can +win it over to the Conservatives if any one can. Whereas +Blackmoor is sure, no matter who runs. It pleases me in a +way, of course, but I hate it for breaking up our trip."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, I did want to see James," said Harry, leaning +his elbows on the mantelpiece, and burying his face in his +hands to hide his tears of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy, it is hard on you," said Sir Giles, and impulsively +drew Harry to him and clasped him against his +broad bosom. "Do you remember the man in the play, that +always voted at his party's call and never thought of thinking +for himself at all? That's me, and it makes me feel +foolish at times, I can tell you. But if you want so much to +see James, why can't he be brought over here?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Harry, "I wish he would come, but<span class="pagenum">[59]</span> +I'm sure he won't. I don't know what's the matter, but +I'm certain that if I am to see him, it will have to be I that +makes the journey. I've felt that for some time."</p> + +<p>"Well, what about your going over alone? I could see +you off at Liverpool, and they would meet you at New +York."</p> + +<p>But that would not do, either. Harry had counted so +much on having his uncle with him and showing him all the +interesting things in America that his uncle's defalcation +took all the zest out of the trip for him. So he remained in +England and helped Sir Giles win the by-election, which +interested him very much.</p> + +<p>Lady Fletcher was right when she prophesied that Sir +Giles would become fond of Harry. He was just such a boy +as Sir Giles would have given his Parliamentary career, his +K. C. B., and his whole fortune to have for his own son. +The two got on famously together. Sir Giles liked to have +Harry with him during all his vacations, and visits during +summer holidays—visits, that is, on which Harry could not +be included—were almost completely given up, as far as Sir +Giles was concerned. They spent blissful days with each +other on the golf links, or fishing in a Scotch stream, or +exploring the filthiest and most fascinating corners of some +Continental town, while Aunt Miriam, gently satirical, +though secretly delighted, went her own smart and fashionable +way, joining them at intervals.</p> + +<p>No one was prouder or more pleased than Harry when—a +year or two after he came into the Rumbold property, +curiously enough—Sir Giles was given a G. C. B. and a +baronetcy by his grateful party; or when, in the Conservative +landslide that followed the Boer War, he rose to real +live ministerial rank, and had to go through a second election +by his borough and became a "Right Honorable." The +fly in the ointment was that he saw less of his uncle than +formerly. The Fletchers moved from their smart but restricted +quarters in Mayfair to an enormous place in Belgrave +Square, "so as to be near the House," as Aunt Miriam +plausibly but rather unconvincingly put it, and Sir Giles +seemed to be always either at the House or the Colonial +office—have we said that he became Secretary for the Colonies? +However, Harry was treated as though he were a son +of the house, and was given <i>carte blanche</i> in the matter of +asking school friends to stay with him when he came home.<span class="pagenum">[60]</span> +This permission also applied to Rumbold Abbey, the estate +in Herefordshire that formed the chief part of the aforementioned +property. There was no abbey, but there was a +late Stuart house of huge proportions; also parks and woods +and streams that offered unlimited opportunities for the +destruction of innocent fauna, of which Harry and a number +of his contemporary Harrovians soon learned to take +advantage.</p> + +<p>On the whole, Harry led an extremely joyous and entertaining +life during the days of his exile. At school he fared +no less well than at home; he was never a leader among his +fellows, but he was good enough at sports to win their +respect and attractive enough in his personality to make +many friends. The natural flexibility of his temperament +enabled him to fit in fairly easily with the hard-and-fast +ways of English school life. He accepted all its conventions +and convictions, and never realized, as long as he remained +in England, that they were in any way different from those +of the schools of his own country. He soon got to dress and +to talk like an Englishman, though he never went to extremes +in what he loved to irritate his schoolfellows by calling +the "English accent." While not exactly handsome, he +became, as he reached man's estate, extremely agreeable to +look upon. He had a clear pink complexion and dark hair, +always a striking and pleasing combination, and he was tall +and slim and moved with the stiff gracefulness that is the +special characteristic of the British male aristocracy. In +general, people liked him, and he liked other people.</p> + +<p>His vacations, as has been said, were usually spent with +Sir Giles either in the British Isles or on the Continent, but +there was one Easter holiday—the second he spent in England—when +he was, to quote a phrase of Aunt Miriam's, +thrown on the parish. The Fletchers were booked to spend +the holiday in a Mediterranean cruise on the yacht of a +nautical duke, who was so nautical and so much of a duke +that to be asked to cruise with him was not merely an Engagement; +it was an Experience. In any case, there could +be no question of taking Harry, and Lady Fletcher was in +perplexity about what to do with him till Sir Giles suggested, +"Why don't we send him to Mildred?" So to +Mildred Harry went, and spent an important, if not a +wildly exciting, month.</p> + +<p>Mildred was Sir Giles' only sister, Lady Archibald Carson. +She lived in a little house in the Surrey hills, and<span class="pagenum">[61]</span> +though the land that went with it was restricted, it was fertile +and its mistress went in as heavily as her means would +allow for herbaceous borders and rock gardens and Japanese +effects. Her two children, both girls, lived there with her. +Her husband, Lord Archibald, was also, in a sense, living +with her, but the verdant domesticity of the Surrey hills +had no charm for him and he spent practically all of his +time in London and other busy haunts of men, or even more +busy haunts of women. He was a younger son of a long +line of marquises who for their combination of breeding and +profligacy probably had no match in the British peerage. +Within five years of his marriage he had with the greatest +casualness in the world run through his own patrimony and +all he could lay his hands on of his wife's. Having bullied +and wheedled all that he could out of her he now consistently +let her alone and depended for his income on what +he could bully and wheedle out of his brother, the eleventh +marquis, who was known as a greater rake than Lord Archibald +merely because he had greater facilities for rakishness +at his command.</p> + +<p>Lady Archibald was a tall, light-haired, pale-eyed woman +with a tired face and a gentle manner. She had no interests +in life beyond her children and her garden, but she had a +kind heart and welcomed Harry cordially on his arrival at +the little house in Surrey. He had seen her once before at +the Fletchers' in London, but he had never seen her children. +It was, therefore, with a rather keen sense of curiosity +that he walked through the house into the garden, where +he was told that Beatrice and Jane were to be found. He +saw them across the croquet lawn immediately, and he +underwent a mild shock of disappointment on seeing, as +he could, at a glance, that they were just as long of limb, +just as straight of hair and just as angular in build as most +English girls of their age.</p> + +<p>The elder girl rose from her seat and sauntered slowly +across the lawn, followed by her sister. She stared coolly at +Harry as she walked toward him, but said nothing, even +when she was quite near. He met her gaze with perfect +self-possession, and suddenly realized that she was waiting +to see if he would make the first move. He instantly determined +not to do so, it being her place, after all, to speak +first; so he stood still and stared calmly back at her for a +few seconds, till finally the girl, with a sudden fleeting smile, +held out her hand and greeted him.<span class="pagenum">[62]</span></p> + +<p>"You're Harry Wimbourne, aren't you?" she said, cordially +enough. "This is my sister Jane. We are very glad +to see you; we've heard such a lot about you. Come over +here and tell us about America."</p> + +<p>In that meeting, in her rather rude little aggression and +Harry's reception of it, was started a friendship. She deliberately +tested Harry and found that he came up to the +mark. He did not fidget, he did not blush, he did not +stammer; he simply returned her stare, waiting for her to +find her manners. Nothing he could have done would have +pleased her better; she decided she would like him, then and +there.</p> + +<p>Harry on his side found her conversation, even in the first +hour of their acquaintance, stimulating and agreeable, and +like nothing that he had experienced before in any young +girl of thirteen, English or American.</p> + +<p>"You needn't be afraid that we shall ask foolish questions +about America," Beatrice went on. "We know the Indians +don't run wild in the streets of New York, and all that sort +of thing. We even know what part of the country New +Haven is in; we looked it up on the map. It's quite near +New York, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry, "you're quite right; it is. But how +do you pronounce the name of the state it is in? Can you +tell me that?"</p> + +<p>"Connecticut," replied the girl, readily enough; but she +sounded the second <i>c</i>, after the manner of most English +people. Harry explained her mistake to her, and she took +the correction smiling, quite without pique or resentment.</p> + +<p>"Now go on and tell us something about the country. +Something really important, you know; something we don't +know already."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Harry, "there seems to be more room there; +that's about the most important difference. Except in the +largest cities, and there there seems to be less, and that's +why they make the buildings so high. And nearly all the +houses, except in the middle of the towns, are made of +wood."</p> + +<p>He went on at some length, the two girls listening attentively.</p> + +<p>At last Beatrice interrupted with the question:</p> + +<p>"Which do you think you like best, on the whole, England +or America?"<span class="pagenum">[63]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, America of course; but only because it's my own +country. I can imagine liking England best, if one happened +to be born here. Some things are nicer here, and +some are nicer there."</p> + +<p>"What do you like best in England?"</p> + +<p>"Well, the old things. Cathedrals and castles. Also +afternoon tea, which we don't bother about much over there. +And the gardens."</p> + +<p>"And what do you like best about America?"</p> + +<p>"Trolley cars, and soda water fountains, and such things. +And the climate. And the way people act. There's so +much less—less formality over there; less bothering about +little things, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know exactly. Silly little things, that don't +matter one way or the other. I know I should like that +about America."</p> + +<p>"I think you would like America, anyway," said Harry, +looking judicially at his interlocutrix. "You seem to be +a free and easy sort of person."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't like trolley cars," interrupted Jane +with firmness, "They go too fast. I don't like to go fast. +It musses my hair, and the dust gets into my eyes."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, silly," said her sister; "you've never ridden +in one."</p> + +<p>"No, but I know what it is to go fast, and I don't like it. +I don't think I should care much for America."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Harry, laughing, "we won't make you go +there. Or if you do go there, we won't make you ride on +the trolley cars. You can ride in hacks all the time; they +go slow enough for any one."</p> + +<p>Beatrice's first impression of Harry underwent no disillusionment +as the days went on. She seemed to find in him a +companion after her own heart. He had plenty of ideas of +his own, and he was entirely willing to act on hers; he never +affected to despise them as a girl's notions, nor did he ever +object to her sharing in his amusements because of her misfortune +of sex. They climbed trees and crawled through +the underbrush on their stomachs together with as much zest +and <i>abandon</i> as if there were no such things as frocks and +stockings in the world. Harry had never known this kind +of companionship with a girl before, and was delighted with +her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dash, there goes my garter," she exclaimed one<span class="pagenum">[64]</span> +day as they were walking through a country lane together. +She had got rather to make a point of such matters, to over-emphasize +their possible embarrassment, simply in order +to see how beautifully he acted.</p> + +<p>"Well, tie it up or something," said he, sauntering on a +few steps.</p> + +<p>Beatrice did what was necessary and ran on and caught +up with him.</p> + +<p>"I never could see why a garter shouldn't be as freely +talked about as any other article of clothing," said she. +"All that sort of modesty is such rot; people have legs, and +legs have to have stockings to cover them, and stockings +have to have garters to keep them up. And women have +legs, just as much as men; there's not a doubt of that. +Perhaps that's news to you, though?"</p> + +<p>"No, I knew that."</p> + +<p>"You really, honestly aren't shocked at what I'm saying?" +asked the girl, scanning his face intently.</p> + +<p>"Not in the least; why should I be? You're not telling +me anything shocking."</p> + +<p>Beatrice drew a long breath of pure enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> a comfort to meet a person like you once in a +while," she said. "Tell me, are women such fools about +their legs in America as they are here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite," said Harry fervently; "if not actually +worse. That's one thing that we don't seem to have learned +any better about. It always makes me tired."</p> + +<p>The two saw each other, infrequently but fairly regularly, +throughout Harry's stay in England. They never +corresponded, both admitting that they were bad letter +writers, but when they met they were always able to pick +up their friendship exactly where they had left it.</p> + +<p>When Sir Giles came into the Rumbold property there +was naturally a corresponding change in the circumstances +of Lady Archibald and her daughters. Every penny of the +property, which came to Sir Giles through the death of a +maternal uncle, was entailed and inalienable from his possession; +but he was able to alleviate her condition by giving +her a large yearly allowance out of his income; and it was +pointed out that such an arrangement would have the advantage +of keeping the money safe from her husband. +Lady Archibald took a small house in South Street and<span class="pagenum">[65]</span> +spent the winter and spring months there, and in the due +course of time Beatrice was brought out into society.</p> + +<p>Her undoubted beauty, which was of the dark and +haughty type, and her excellent dancing were enough to +make her a social success. This was a tremendous comfort +to her mother, who was never obliged to worry about her at +dances or scheme for invitations at desirable houses, and +could confine her maternal anxiety to merely hoping that +Beatrice would make a better match than she herself had. +But Beatrice hated the whole proceeding, heartily and unaffectedly.</p> + +<p>"The dancing men all bore me," she once said to Harry; +"and I bore all the others. Almost all men are dull; at +any rate, they appear at their dullest and worst in society, +and the few interesting ones don't want to be bored by a +chit like me, and I can't say that I blame them. As for +the women—when they get into London society they cease +to be women at all; they become fiends incarnate."</p> + +<p>"I hope that success is not embittering your youthful +heart," said Harry, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Not success, but just being in what they are pleased to +call society; that will make me bitter if I have much more +of it. I don't know why it is; people are nice naturally—most +of them, that is. Of course some people are born +brutes, like—well, like my father; but most of them are nice +at bottom. But somehow London makes beasts of them all. +If I am ever Prime Minister—"</p> + +<p>"Which, after all, is improbable."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I am, the first thing I shall do will be simply to +abolish London. We shall have just the same population, +but it will be all rural. We shall all live in Arcadian simplicity, +and while we may not be perfect, at least we shan't +all be the scheming, selfish, merciless brutes that London +makes of us."</p> + +<p>"And pending the passage of that bill you want to live +in Arcadian simplicity alone. I see. I quite like the idea +myself. I should love to found Arcadia with you somewhere +in rural England, when I have time. Where shall +we have it? I should say Devonshire, shouldn't you? +Clotted cream, you know, and country lanes. It will be +like Marie Antoinette's hamlet at Versailles, only not nearly +so silly. We will pay other people to milk the cows and<span class="pagenum">[66]</span> +make the butter, and do all the dirty work, and just sit +around ourselves and be perfectly charming. No one will +be admitted without passing a rigid examination in character, +and that will be the only necessary qualification. +Arcadia, Limited, we'll call it; it sounds like a Gilbert and +Sullivan opera, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Whom shall we have in it? Uncle Giles—he could pass +all right, couldn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Heavens, yes, <i>Magna cum</i>. And Aunt Miriam—perhaps. +She would need some cramming before she went +up. What about your mother?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mama could never get in," answered +Beatrice, smiling rather sadly. "I've talked to her before +about such things and she never answers, but just looks at +me with that sad tolerant smile of hers that seems to say +'Arcadian simplicity is all very well, but you'll find the best +way to get it is through a husband with ten thousand a year +or so.' And the dreadful part of it is that she's right, to +a certain extent."</p> + +<p>Although in matter of years Beatrice was a few weeks +Harry's junior, she was at this time twice as old as he, for +all practical purposes. She was an honored guest at Lady +Fletcher's big dinners—almost the only ones that did not +bore her to death—into which Harry would be smuggled at +the last minute to fill up a vacant place, or else calmly +omitted from altogether. Nevertheless, he was her greatest +comfort all through her first season; nothing but his jovial +optimism, which saw the worst but found it no more than +amusing, kept the iron from entering into her soul. Such +an occasional conversation as the above-quoted would put +sanity into her world and fortify her for days against the +commonplaces of dancing men and the jealous looks of less +attractive maidens. And how she would pine for him during +the intervals! How she would long for the arrival of +the next vacation or mid-term exeat that would bring him +up to town! There was a freshness, a wholesomeness about +his way of looking at things that was soothing to her as +a breath of country air.</p> + +<p>It is not surprising, then, that Beatrice began to dread +the nearing date of Harry's departure for America and college +more than any one else, even Sir Giles himself, to whom +Harry had become by this time almost as dear as a son. +Poor Uncle Giles, though he wanted Harry to stay in the<span class="pagenum">[67]</span> +country more than any other earthly thing, made it a point +of honor never to dissuade the boy from his original project +of returning to his own country when he was ready to +go to college and becoming an American again. Beatrice, +however, was bound by no such restriction and complained +bitterly of his desertion.</p> + +<p>"What is the point of your going back to some silly +American college?" she would ask. "It isn't as if you +didn't have the best universities in the world right here, +under your very nose. Why aren't Oxford and Cambridge +good enough for you, I should like to know? They were +good enough for Milton and Thackeray and Isaac Newton +and a few other more or less prominent people."</p> + +<p>"Very true," replied Harry with perfect good-humor. +"The only thing is, those people didn't happen to be +Yankees. I am, you know. It's been a habit in our family +for two hundred years or more, and it doesn't do to break +up old family traditions. Must be a Yankee, whatever +happens."</p> + +<p>"But that doesn't mean that you have to go to a Yankee +college, necessarily," argued Beatrice. "You won't learn +nearly as much there as you would at Oxford. You are as +far along in your studies now as the second year men at +Yale; I heard Uncle Giles say so himself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, that's very true. I can't argue about it; +you've got all the arguments on your side. I just know that +there's only one possible place on earth where I can go to +college, and that is Yale. Better not talk about it any more, +if it makes you peevish."</p> + +<p>"Well, we won't. I'll tell you one thing, though; we +have got to start a correspondence. You can spare a few +ideas from your Yankees, I hope. I shall simply die on +the wooden pavements if I can't at least hear from you occasionally."</p> + +<p>"Certainly; I should like nothing better. I'll even go +so far as to be the first to write, if you like, and that's a +perfectly tremendous concession, as I'm the worst letter +writer that ever lived."</p> + +<p>So there the matter was left. Harry left Harrow for +good at Easter, and spent one last golden month in London, +seeing Beatrice almost every day and being an unalloyed +joy and comfort to his uncle and aunt. In May he took a +short trip through Spain with Sir Giles; it was a country<span class="pagenum">[68]</span> +neither of them had visited before, and they had planned +a trip there for years. Uncle Giles worked double time for +a fortnight in order to be able to leave with a clear conscience, +but he found the reward well worth the labor.</p> + +<p>They parted at Madrid, the plan being for Harry to sail +for New York from Gibraltar, arriving in time to take his +final examinations in New Haven in June.</p> + +<p>There were tears in Sir Giles' kind blue eyes as he bade +Harry good-by, and Harry saw them and knew why they +were there. Suddenly he felt his own fill.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go very much, Uncle Giles," he said in +a low voice. "Now that it comes to the point, I don't like +it much. You've all been so wonderful to me.... It's not +a question of what I want to do, though. It's just what's +got to be done."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said his uncle; "I know. You're quite right +about it. It's the only thing to do. But perhaps you won't +mind my saying I'm glad, in a way, that you find it hard?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you; that helps, too. There's more that comes +into it, though; more than what we have talked over together +so often.... I mean—"</p> + +<p>"James?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry, "that's it."</p> + +<p>They clasped hands again and went their separate ways; +Sir Giles to the train that was to take him north to Paris +and home, and Harry to the train that was to take him +south to Gibraltar and home.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[69]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p class="h3">OMNE IGNOTUM</p> + +<p>"Bless us, how the boy has grown!" cried Aunt +Cecilia, and kissed him all over again.</p> + +<p>"You'll find your aunt very much changed, I expect," +said Uncle James, clasping his hand and smiling, quite in +his old style.</p> + +<p>"Not a particle, thank Heaven," said Harry, understanding +perfectly; "nor you either. Nor the U. S. Customs +service, either. Can't I just make them a present of +all my luggage and run along? Except that I have some +Toledo work and stuff for you and Aunt C."</p> + +<p>"Hush, don't say that out loud; they'll charge you extra +duty for it," replied Uncle James.</p> + +<p>"Oh, was there e'er a Yankee breast which did not feel the +moral beauty of making worldly interest subordinate to +sense of duty?" misquoted Harry. "Bother the duty. +Tell me how you all are. How are Ruth and Oswald and +Lucy and Jack and Timothy and the baby? All about eight +feet high, I suppose? And James, where is he?"</p> + +<p>"James is in New Haven," said Aunt Cecilia; "he has +an examination early to-morrow morning and could not get +away till after that. He'll be here to-morrow in time for +lunch."</p> + +<p>It was all very easy and cordial. Harry was in high +spirits over returning to his native land, and was genuinely +pleased that both his uncle and aunt should take the trouble +to come down to the dock to meet his steamer. They, on +their side, were most agreeably impressed by him; agreeably +disappointed with him, we almost said. It was a relief, as +well as a pleasure, to find him, so unchanged and unaffected +at heart, though he looked and talked like an Englishman. +Mrs. James sat on a packing case and watched him with +unadulterated pleasure as he tended to the examination of +his luggage. The art of his Bond Street tailor served to +accentuate rather than hide the slim, sinewy, businesslike +beauty of his limbs, brought into play as he bent down to +lift a trunk tray or tug at a strap. Though all that was<span class="pagenum">[70]</span> +nothing, of course, to the joy of the discovery that he was +unspoiled in character.</p> + +<p>"It's turned out all right," she thought and smiled to +herself. "I don't know whether it's chiefly to his credit +or theirs, but it has come out all right, anyway. I wish +the boat had not arrived in the evening, so that I could have +brought the children to see him, the first thing. They'll +have plenty of time, though; and how they'll love him! +And how pleased James will be!"</p> + +<p>She meant young James, who was now putting the finishing +touches on his sophomore year at Yale. James was +never very far from her mind when her thoughts ran to her +own children—which was most of the time. She always +thought of him now more as her own eldest child than as her +husband's nephew.</p> + +<p>And Harry's thoughts, beneath all his chatter to his +uncle and aunt and his transactions with the Customs officials, +were also on James. All the way across the Atlantic, +on the long dull voyage from Gibraltar—there are not many +passengers traveling westward in June—they continually +ran on that one subject—James, James, James. What +would he be like now? would he be the old James, or +changed, somehow—strangely, disappointingly, unacceptably? +Harry hoped not; hoped it with his whole heart, in +which there was nothing but humility and affection when +he thought of what his brother had been to him in the old +days. He was so little able to speak what he felt about +James that he was embarrassed and over-silent about him. +That was why he was so debonair with the Customs officials; +that was why he asked after each of his young cousins +by name before he mentioned his brother.</p> + +<p>"Every single article of clothing I own was bought +abroad," he was telling the Customs inspector; "so you +can just go ahead and do your worst—That suit cost eight +guineas—yes, I know it's too much; I told them so at the +time, but they wouldn't listen.... No, that thing with +the feathers is not a woman's hat; it's a Tyrolean hat, that +the men climb mountains in. I'm going to give it to my +Uncle James—that man there sitting on the woman's trunk +that she wants to get into—to wear to his office, which is on +the thirty-fifth floor.... Yes, I have worn it myself, but +don't tell him.... That gold cigarette case is for my +brother, who smokes when he's not playing football, and it<span class="pagenum">[71]</span> +cost six pound fifteen, which is dirt cheap, I say. I'd keep +it myself, except that it's so cheap that I can't afford not +to give it away...."</p> + +<p>And James, what was he feeling, if he was feeling anything, +in regard to his brother at this time, and why have we +said nothing about him during these seven years? The +truth is, his life had been chiefly distinguished by the blessed +uneventfulness that comes of outward happiness and a good +understanding with the world. If you can draw a mental +picture for yourself of a boy of perfect physique and untarnished +mind, gradually attaining the physical and mental +development of manhood in comradeship with a hundred or +more others in a like position, dedicating the use of each +gift as it came to him not to his own aggrandizement but to +the glory of God and the service of other men, recognizing +his superiority in certain fields with the same humility with +which he beheld his inferiority in others, equally willing to +give help where he was strong and take help where he was +weak, and possessed by the fundamental conviction that +other people were just as good as he if not a little bit better, +you may get some idea of James during the years of his +brother's absence. He was not brilliant, he was not handsome, +but there was a splendid normality about him, both +in appearance and in character, that inspired confidence and +affection among his teachers, his relatives, and friends of his +own age.</p> + +<p>"He has a good mind and body, and there is no nonsense +about him," was the substance of the opinion of the first-named +group. "He is a good boy and a nice boy, and I'm +glad he is one of the family," said the second. "He is +captain of the football team," said the third group, and to +one who knows anything about American boarding schools +this last will tell everything.</p> + +<p>If any one is inclined to blame James for his allowing the +Atlantic Ocean to separate him and brother so completely +for those seven years it may interest him to know that James +was quite of the same opinion. As he sat in the train that +took him from New Haven to New York on the morning +after Harry's landing, he wondered how the long separation +could have come about. On the whole, after a careful review +of the business, he was inclined to blame himself; not +over-severely, but definitely, nevertheless. He had been +timid, indifferent and, above all, lazy. Looking back over<span class="pagenum">[72]</span> +his attitude of the last seven years, he was inclined to be +scornful and a little amused. What had he to fear about +Harry? Weren't Uncle Giles and Aunt Miriam good +people, who could be trusted to bring him up right? What +was there to fear, even, in his becoming an Englishman? +And anyway, even if he had feared the worst, ought he not +to have taken the trouble to go over and see with his own +eyes? It had probably turned out all right, for Harry +had returned at last with every intention of living in +America for the rest of his life; but if he had been spoiled +or altered for the worse in any way, he, James, must take +his share of the blame for it. There could be no doubt of +that.</p> + +<p>The root of the matter was, we suspect, that James had +been somewhat lacking in initiative. Thoroughly normal +people customarily are; it is at once their strength and their +weakness. A splendid normality, such as we have described +James as enjoying, is a serviceable thing in life, but it is apt +to degenerate, if not sufficiently stimulated by misfortune +and opposition, into commonplaceness and sterile conservatism. +But let us do James justice; he at least saw his +fault and blamed himself for it.</p> + +<p>He was devoured with curiosity to see what Harry was +like; almost as much so as Harry in regard to him. James +had plenty of friends, but only one brother, when all was +said and done. As the train rushed nearer the consummation +of his curiosity, he felt the old feeling of timidity and +suspicion sweep over him; but that, as he shook it off, only +increased his curiosity; gave it edge. <i>Omne ignotum pro +magnifico est</i>; every one knows that, even if he never heard +of Virgil, and it is especially true of such natures as James'. +Each little wave of fear and suspicion that swept over him +made him a little more restless and unhappy, though he +smiled at himself for feeling so. It was a relief when the +train pulled into the Grand Central Station and he could +grip his bag and start on the short walk to the house of his +uncle, which was situated in the refined and expensive confines +of Murray Hill.</p> + +<p>Any one who knows anything about the world will be able +to guess pretty closely the nature of the brothers' meeting. +Harry was sitting in the front room upstairs when his cousin +Ruth, who was at the window, announced: "Here he +comes, Harry." In a perfect frenzy of pleasure, embarrassment,<span class="pagenum">[73]</span> +affection and curiosity, the boy made a dash for +the stairs and greeted his brother at the front door with +the demonstrative words:</p> + +<p>"Hello, James!"</p> + +<p>To which James, who for the last few minutes had been +obliged to restrain himself from throwing his bag into the +gutter and breaking into a run, replied:</p> + +<p>"Well, Harry, how's the boy?"</p> + +<p>Then they walked upstairs together and began talking +rather fast about the voyage, examinations, Aunt Miriam, +Spain, the Yale baseball team,—anything but what was in +their hearts.</p> + +<p>"Well, you came back without being made an earl, after +all, it seems," said James a little later at lunch.</p> + +<p>"No, but I came back a sub-freshman, which is the next +best thing. There's no telling what I might have been if +I'd stayed, though. Everybody was so frightfully keen on +my staying over there and going to Oxford, especially +Beatrice—Beatrice Carson, you know; I've written you +about her? She would have made me an earl in a minute, +if she could, to make me stay. None of it did any good, +though. I would be a Yankee."</p> + +<p>"How do you think you'll like being a Yankee again?" +asked James. "You certainly don't look much like one at +present."</p> + +<p>"No? That'll come, I dare say. My heart's in the right +place. Though that doesn't prevent the Americans from +seeming strange, at first. Did you notice that woman in +the chemist's shop this morning, Aunt C.? She was chewing +gum all the time she waited on you, and she never said +'Thank you' or 'Ma'am' once."</p> + +<p>"They all are that way," said Aunt Cecilia with a gentle +sigh. "I don't expect anything else."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the bloated aristocrat!" said James. "It is an +earl, after all. Only don't blame the poor girl for not calling +you 'My lord.' She couldn't be expected to know; they +don't have many of them over here."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that she was rude," said Harry; "she +didn't give that impression, somehow. It was just the way +she did things; a sort of casualness. The Americans are a +funny people!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" groaned James; "hear the prominent foreigner +talk. What do you think of America, my lord?<span class="pagenum">[74]</span> +How do you like New York? What do you think of our +climate? To think that that's the thing I used to spank +when he was naughty!"</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," retorted Harry, with warmth; +"wait till you get out of this blessed country for a while +yourself, and see how other people act, and then perhaps +you'll see that there are differences. You may even be able +to see that they are not all in our favor. And as for smacking—spanking, +if you feel inclined to renew that quaint old +custom now, I'm ready for you. Any time you want!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," growled James; "after lunch."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and in Central Park, please," observed Uncle +James; "not in the house; I can't afford it. You are right, +though, Harry, about the Americans being a funny people. +If you enter the legal profession, or if you go into public +life, you'll be more and more struck by the fact as time goes +on. But there's one thing to remember; it doesn't do to +tell them so. They can't bear to hear it. We have proof +of that immediately before us; you announce your opinion +here, <i>coram familia</i>, as it were, and what is the result? Contempt +and loathing on the part of the great American public, +represented by James, and a duel to follow—in Central +Park, remember; in Central Park."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if that milk of magnesia has come yet," murmured +Aunt Cecilia, who had not gone beyond the beginning +of the conversation; and further hostilities—friendly ones, +even—were forgotten in the general laugh that followed.</p> + +<p>Of course James, who conformed to the American type of +college boy as closely as any one could and retain his individuality, +was greatly struck during the first few days by +his brother's Anglicisms, which showed themselves at that +time rather in his appearance and speech than in his point +of view. For example, James was indulging one day in a +lengthy plaint against the hardness of one of his instructors, +as the result of which he would probably, to use his own +expression, "drop an hour"; that is, lose an hour's work +for the year and be put back one-sixtieth of his work for his +degree. Harry listened attentively enough to the narrative, +but his sole comment when James finished was the single +word "Tiresome." The word was ill chosen for James' +peace of mind. If such expressions were the result of +English training he could not but think the less of English +training.<span class="pagenum">[75]</span></p> + +<p>The summer passed off pleasantly enough, the boys living +with their uncle and aunt at Bar Harbor. Harry saw much +less of James than he had expected, for he was away much +of the time, visiting classmates and school friends whom +Harry did not know. He was obliged, too, to return to Yale +soon after the first of September for football practise. +Harry spent most of his time playing fairly happily about +with his young cousins and other people of his own age. +The most interesting feature of the summer to him was a +visit to Aunt Selina at her summer place in Vermont. This +was the ancestral, ante-Revolution farm of the Wimbournes, +much rebuilt and enlarged and presented to Miss Wimbourne +for her life on the death of her late father. Here +Aunt Selina was wont to gather during the summer months +a heterogeneous crowd of friends, and it was a source of +wonder and admiration to the other members of the family +that she was able to attract such a large number of what she +referred to as "amusing people." With these Harry was +quite at ease, his English training having accustomed him +to associating with older and cleverer people than himself, +and it gave Aunt Selina quite a thrill of pleasure to see a +boy of eighteen partaking in the staid amusements of his +elders and meeting them on their own ground, and to think +that the boy was her own nephew. She became at length so +much taken with him that a bright idea occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"Harry," said she one day; "what do you think of my +going to live in New Haven?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's a fine idea," said Harry. "But where?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in the old house, of course. That is, if you and +James, or your guardians, are willing to rent it to me. It +has stood empty ever since you left it, and I presume there +is no immediate prospect of your occupying it yourselves +for some time."</p> + +<p>"As half owner of the establishment," said Harry courteously, +"I offer you the full use of it for as long a time as +you wish, free of charge."</p> + +<p>"That's sweet of you, but it's not business. I should insist +on paying rent."</p> + +<p>"Well, Aunt Selina, you're used to having your own way, +so I presume you will. But what makes you want to come +and live in New Haven, all of a sudden? I thought you +could never bear the place."</p> + +<p>"I had a great many friends there in the old days, and<span class="pagenum">[76]</span> +should like to see something of them again. Besides, it will +be nice to be in the same town with you and James."</p> + +<p>Like most people, she put the real reason last. If Harry +failed to realize from its position that it was the real reason, +he learned it unmistakably enough from what followed. +The conversation wandered to a discussion of changes in +the town since Aunt Selina had lived there. She supposed +that everybody had dinner at night there now, though she +remembered the time when it was impossible to reconcile +servants to the custom. She herself would have it late, except +on Sundays. Sunday never did seem like Sunday to +her without dinner in the middle of the day and supper in +the evening.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Harry, "I hope you'll ask James and me +to a Sunday dinner occasionally."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, yes! Every Sunday, and supper too. +That will be a regular custom; and I want you both to feel +at liberty to come up for a meal at any time. Any time, +without even telephoning beforehand. And bring your +friends; there will always be enough to eat. How stupid of +me to forget that. Of course I want you, as often as you'll +come."</p> + +<p>"We accept," said Harry, "unconditionally. We shall +be glad enough to have a decent meal once in a while, after +the food we shall get in college. James says he even gets +tired of the training table, which is a great admission, for +he loves everything connected with football. Even when we +were kids, I remember, he used to love to drink barley +water with his meals; nasty stuff—they used to make me +drink it in England."</p> + +<p>Harry rattled on purposely about the first thing that +came into his head, for he noticed his aunt seemed slightly +embarrassed. She was going to New Haven to take care +of James and himself, and naturally she did not care to +divulge the real reason to him. Well, she was a dear old +thing, certainly; he remembered how she had acted on his +mother's death. He was suddenly sorry that he had seen +nothing of her for the last seven years, and sorry that he +had written her so irregularly during his absence. It was +pleasant to think that he would have a chance to make up for +it in the future.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[77]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p class="h3">LIVY AND VICTOR HUGO</p> + +<p>On a certain Wednesday evening late in September +Harry stood on a certain street-corner in the city +of New Haven. Surging about him were a thousand or +so youths of his own age or a little older, most of them +engaged in making noises expressive of the pleasures of +reunion. It was a merry and turbulent scene. Tall, important-looking +seniors, wearing white sweaters with large +blue Y's on their chests, moved through the crowd with a +worried air, apparently trying to organize something that +had no idea whatever of being organized. They were ineffectual, +but oh, so splendid! Harry, who had almost no +friends of his own there to talk to, watched them with +undisguised admiration. He reflected that James would +be one of their number a year hence, and wondered if +by any chance he himself would be one three years from +now.</p> + +<p>Just as he dismissed the probability as negligible, a sort of +order became felt among those who stood immediately about +him. Men stopped talking and appeared to be listening to +something which Harry could not hear. Then they all began +shouting a strange, unmeaning succession of syllables +in concert; Harry recognized this as a cheer and lustily +joined in with it. At the end came a number; repeated +three times; a number which no one present had ever before +heard bellowed forth from three or four hundred brazen +young throats; a number that had a strange and unfamiliar +sound, even to those who shouted it, and caused the upperclassmen +to break into a derisive jeer.</p> + +<p>A new class had officially started its career, and Harry +was part of it. No one flushed more hotly than he at the +jeer of the upperclassmen; no one jeered back with greater +spirit when the sophomores cheered for their own class. No +one took part more joyfully in the long and varied program +of events that filled out the rest of the evening. +The parade through the streets of the town was to him a +joyous bacchanal, and the wrestling matches on the Campus<span class="pagenum">[78]</span> +a splendid orgy. After these were over even more enjoyable +things happened, for James, with two or three fellow-juniors—magnificent, +Olympian beings!—took him in tow +and escorted him safe and unmolested through the turbulent +region of York Street, where freshmen, who had nothing +save honor to fight for, were pressed into organized hostility +against sophomores, who didn't even have that.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did you think of it all?" asked James +later.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ripping," said Harry, "I never thought it would be +anything like this. We never really saw anything of the +real life of the college when we lived in town here, did we?"</p> + +<p>"Not much. It all seems pretty strange to you now, I +suppose, but you'll soon get onto the ropes and feel at home. +What sort of a schedule did you get?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fairly rotten. They all seem to be eight-thirties. +Here, you can see," producing a paper.</p> + +<p>"That's not so bad," pronounced James, approvingly. +"Nothing on Wednesday or Saturday afternoons, so that +you can get to ball games and things, and nothing any afternoon +till five, so that you'll have plenty of time for track +work."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, track work; I'd forgotten that."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't want to forget it; you want to go right +out and hire a locker and get to work, to-morrow, if possible. +If track's the best thing for you to go out for, that +is, and I guess it is, all right. You're too light for football, +and you don't know anything about baseball, and you +haven't got a crew build."</p> + +<p>"What is a crew build?" asked Harry.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you put it that way, I don't know that I can +tell you. It's a mysterious thing; I've been trying to find +out myself for several years. I don't see why I haven't +got a fairly good crew build myself, but they always tell +me I haven't, when I suggest going out for it. However, +you haven't got one, that's easy. So you'll just have to +stick to track."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry soberly, "I suppose I shall."</p> + +<p>Harry was what is commonly known as a good mixer, and +made acquaintances among his classmates rapidly enough to +suit even the nice taste of James. In general, however, they +remained acquaintances and never became friends. It was +not that they were not nice, most of them; "ripping fellows,<span class="pagenum">[79]</span> +all of them," Harry described them to his brother. +They were, in fact, too nice; those who lived near him were +all of the best preparatory school type, the kind that invariably +leads the class during freshman year. Harry +found them conventional, quite as much so as the English +type, though in a different way. Intercourse with them +failed to give him stimulus; he found himself always more +or less talking down to them, and intellectual stimulus was +what Harry needed above all things among his friends.</p> + +<p>There were exceptions, however. The most brilliant was +that of Jack Trotwood, probably the last man with whom +Harry might have been expected to strike up a friendship. +Harry first saw him in a Latin class, one of the first of the +term. Trotwood sat in the same row as Harry, two or three +seats away from him—the acquaintance was not even of the +type that alphabetical propinquity is responsible for. On +the day in question he dropped a fountain pen, and spent +some moments in burrowing ineffectually under seats in +search of it. The fugitive chattel at length turned up +directly under Harry's chair, and as he leaned over to restore +it to its owner he noticed something about his face that +appealed to him at once. He never could tell what it was; +the flush that bending over had brought to it, the embarrassment, +the dismay at having made a fuss in public, the +smile, containing just the right mixture of cordiality and +formality, yet undeniably sweet withal, with which he +thanked him; perhaps it was any or all of these things. At +any rate after class, on his way back toward York Street, +Harry found himself hurrying to catch up with Trotwood, +who was walking a few paces ahead of him. Trotwood +turned as he came up, and smiled again.</p> + +<p>"That was sort of a stinking lesson, wasn't it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry, "wasn't it, though?"</p> + +<p>"I should say! Boned for two hours on it last night +before I could make anything out of it. Gee, but this +Livy's dull, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, awfully dull. Do you use a trot?"</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't yet, but I'm going to, after last night. +I can't put so much time on one lesson. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes. That is, I shall. Do you like Latin?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, no, not when it's like this stuff. I only took it +because it comes easier to me than most other things. Do +you like it?"<span class="pagenum">[80]</span></p> + +<p>"Not much. Not much good at it, either.... Well, I +live here—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you? so do I. Where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Fourth floor, back. Come up, some time."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, I will. So long."</p> + +<p>"So long."</p> + +<p>So started a friendship, one of the sincerest and firmest +that either ever enjoyed. And yet, as Harry pointed out +afterward, it was founded on insincerity and falsehood. +Harry's whole part in this first conversation was no more +than a tissue of lies. He was extremely fond of Latin, and +was so good at it that his entire preparation for his recitations +consisted in looking up a few unfamiliar words beforehand; +he could always fit the sentences together when +he was called upon to construe. It had never occurred to +him to use a translation. He was rather fond of Livy, +whose flowing and complicated style appealed to him. He +gave a false answer to every question merely for the pleasure +of agreeing with Trotwood, whom he liked already +without knowing why.</p> + +<p>The two got into the habit of doing their Latin lesson +together regularly, three times a week. Trotwood did not +buy a trot, after all; he found Harry quite as good.</p> + +<p>"My, but you're a shark," he said in undisguised admiration +one evening, as Harry brought order and clarity into +a difficult passage. "You certainly didn't learn to do +that in this country. You're English, anyway, aren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, no; Yankee. Born in New Haven. I have lived +over there for some years, though."</p> + +<p>"Go to school there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; Harrow."</p> + +<p>"Gosh." Trotwood stared at him for a few moments +in dazed silence. He stood on the brink of a world that +he knew no more of than Balboa did of the Pacific. +"What sort of a place is it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, wonderful."</p> + +<p>"You played cricket, I suppose, and—and those things?"</p> + +<p>"Rugby football, yes," said Harry, smiling.</p> + +<p>"And you liked it, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, rather! Only—"</p> + +<p>"Only what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. I did like it. It's a wonderful place."<span class="pagenum">[81]</span></p> + +<p>"Only it's different from what you're doing now?" said +Trotwood, with a burst of insight. "Is that what you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I see; I see," said Trotwood, and then he kept still. +There was something so comforting, so sympathetic and +understanding about his silence that Harry was inspired +to confide in him.</p> + +<p>"The truth is, I'm beginning to doubt whether I ought +to have gone to an English school. I'm not sure but what +it would have been better for me to go to school and college +in the same country, whatever it was. You see, after +spending five or six years in learning to value certain +things, it's rather a wrench to come here and find the +values all distorted."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Trotwood again. He wasn't sure that he +did see at all, but he felt that unquestioning sympathy was +his cue.</p> + +<p>"It's not merely the different kinds of games," went on +Harry; "it's not that they make so much more of athletics, +or rather of the public side of athletics, than they do over +there, though that comes into it a lot. It's what people +do and think about and talk about and—and are, in short. +Last year, I remember, the men I went with, the sixth +formers, used to read the papers a lot and follow the debates +in Parliament and talk about such things a lot, even +among themselves. Some of them used to write Greek and +Latin verse just for fun—wonderfully good, too, some of +it. And here—well, how many men in our class, how +many men in the whole college do you suppose could write +ten lines of Greek or Latin verse without making a mess +of it?"</p> + +<p>"Not too many, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Then there's debating. We used to have pretty good +house debates ourselves at school. I used to look forward +to them, I remember, from month to month, as one of the +most interesting things that happened. But of course they +were nothing to a thing like the Oxford Union. You've +heard of that, I suppose? Lord, I wish some of these people +here could see one of those meetings! It would be an +eye-opener."</p> + +<p>"But we have debating here," said Trotwood, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what kind of debating? A few grinds getting<span class="pagenum">[82]</span> +up and talking about the Interstate Commerce Commission, +or some rotten, technical, dry subject, because they think +it will give them good practise in public speaking. Everybody +hates it like poison, and they're right, too, for it's +all dull, dead; started on the wrong idea. The best men +in the class won't go out for it. I wouldn't myself, now +that I know what it's like; but I thought of doing it in +the summer, and spoke to my brother about it. He didn't +say anything against it, because he didn't dare; people are +always writing to the <i>News</i> and saying what a fine thing +debating is. But he let me see pretty clearly that he didn't +think much of debating and didn't want me to go out for +it, because it didn't get you anywhere in college; <i>simply +wasn't done</i>. He'd rather see me take a third place in +one track meet and never do another thing in college than +to be the captain of the debating team."</p> + +<p>"Did he tell you that?"</p> + +<p>"Lord, no; he wouldn't dare. No one would; technically, +debating is supposed to be a fine thing. But it doesn't +get you anywhere near a senior society, so there's an end +to it.... But perhaps I'd better not get started on that."</p> + +<p>"No, I should think not! Heavens, a junior fraternity +is about the height of my ambition!"</p> + +<p>Harry smiled at his friend and went on: +"You see it's this way, Trotty; you are a sensible person, +and look at them in the right way. You play about +with your mandolin clubs and various other little things +because you like them, like a good dutiful boy. When the +time comes, you'll be very glad to take a senior society, if +it's offered you. If it isn't, you won't care."</p> + +<p>"But I will, though. I don't believe I have much +chance, but I know I shall be disappointed if I don't make +one, just the same."</p> + +<p>"For about twenty-four hours, yes. Don't interrupt +me, Trotty; this isn't flattery, it's argument. You are a +sensible person, as I have said; and don't let such considerations +worry you. There are lots of other sensible +persons in the class, too. Josh Traill, for one, and +Manxome, and John Fisher and Shep McGee; they're all +sensible people, and don't worry or think much about +senior societies, though I suppose they all have a good +chance to make one eventually, if any one has. But that +isn't true of all the class. There is a large and important<span class="pagenum">[83]</span> +section of it that now, in the first term of freshman year, +is thinking and talking nothing except about who will go +to a junior fraternity next year, or a senior society two +years hence. It's the one subject of conversation that +seriously competes with professional baseball and college +football, which is all you hear otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Harry, you're hard on us. There's automobiles. +And guns. And theaters. But why should you mind if a +lot of geesers do talk about societies?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it makes me sick, that's all. And when I say +sick, I use the word in its British, or most vivid sense. It +makes me sick, after England and after Harrow, to see a +lot of what ought to be the best fellows in the class spending +their waking hours in wondering about such rubbishy +things.—Do you happen to be aware of an ornament of +our class called Junius Neville LeGrand?"</p> + +<p>"Golden locks and blue eyes? Yes, I know him. Acts +rather well, they say."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he's the kind I mean. At any rate, I seem to +be in his good graces just at present. All sweetness and +light; can't be too particular about telling me how good +I am at French, and that sort of thing. In fact, he went +so far to-day as to suggest that we might go over the French +lesson together, and he's coming here presently to do it."</p> + +<p>"But what's the matter with poor Junius? I thought +he was as decent as such a painfully good-looking person +could be."</p> + +<p>"I'm not denying he's attractive. But if you'll stay +for the French lesson I think I can show you what I'm +talking about."</p> + +<p>"But I don't take French."</p> + +<p>"No, dear boy; you won't have to know French to see +what I'm going to show you. Your rôle will consist of +lying on the window-seat and being occupied with day before +yesterday's <i>News</i>. Now listen; I have an idea that +the beautiful Junius has recently made the discovery that +I am the brother of James Wimbourne, of the junior class, +pillar of the Yale football team and more than likely to +go Bones, or anything he wants, next May. Hence this +access of cordiality to poor little me, the obscure Freshman. +I'm going to find out that, first."</p> + +<p>"But there's no need of finding out that," said Trotwood +naïvely. "I told him so myself, the other day."<span class="pagenum">[84]</span></p> + +<p>"A week ago Tuesday, to be exact," said Harry reflectively. +"I remember he slobbered all over me at the +French class Wednesday, though he didn't have anything +to say to me on Monday. Wasn't that about it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," admitted Trotwood.</p> + +<p>"Well, it proves what I was saying, but I'm sorry you +did it, for it spoils my little game with the beautiful Junius. +The French lesson will be a dull one, I fear. I rather think +I shall have to end by being rude to Junius, to keep him. +from making an infernal little pest of himself."</p> + +<p>But the French lesson was not as dull as Harry feared, +for the ingratiating Junius played into Harry's hands +and incidentally proved himself not so good an actor off +the stage as on. His behavior for the first ten or fifteen +minutes was all that could be desired; he sat in Harry's +Morris chair and waved a cigarette and put his host and +Trotwood at their ease with the grace and charm of a +George IV. At length he and Harry settled down to +their "Notre Dame de Paris," and for a while all went +well. Then of a sudden Junius became strangely silent +and preoccupied.</p> + +<p>"'Then they made him sit down on—' oh, Lord, what's +a <i>brancard bariolé</i>?" said Harry. "You look up <i>brancard</i>, +Junius, and I'll look up the other.... Oh, yes; +speckled. No; motley—that's probably nearer; it depends +on what <i>brancard</i> means. What does it mean, anyway? +Come on, Junius, do you mean to say you haven't found +it yet? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I was looking up <i>asseoir</i>," said Junius, who had been +staring straight in front of him.</p> + +<p>"Sit, of course; you knew that. I translated that, anyway. +I'll look up <i>brancard</i>." Harry's glance, as he +turned again to his dictionary, fell upon a letter lying on +his desk, waiting to be mailed. It was addressed in Harry's +own legible hand to</p> + +<p> +Lieut.-Gen. Sir Giles Fletcher, M. P. etc.,<br /> +204 Belgrave Square,<br /> +London, S. W.,<br /> +England.<br /> +</p> + +<p>It immediately occurred to him that this was the probable +cause of his classmate's preoccupation, and the joy of the +chase burned anew in his breast.<span class="pagenum">[85]</span></p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> you staring at, Junius?" he asked a minute +later, with, well simulated unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Junius, returning to his book and +blushing. That was bad already, as Harry pointed out +later; it would have been so easy, for a person who really +knew, to pass it off with some such remark as "I was overcome +by the address on that letter. My, but what swells +you do correspond with," etc. But the unfortunate Junius +could not even be consistent to the rôle of affected +ignorance that he had assumed.</p> + +<p>"I see you know Sir Giles Fletcher," he said after a +while. "I saw that envelope on the table; I couldn't help +seeing the address. Is he a friend of yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry; "my uncle."</p> + +<p>"Oh. Well, I heard a good deal about him last summer +from some relations of his ... connections, anyway; the +Marquis of Moville ... and his family. We had a shooting-lodge +in Scotland, and he had a moor near ours. He +came over and shot with us once, and said ours was the +best moor in Perthshire. His brother came too; Lord +Archibald Carson. He's the one that's connected with +your uncle, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Married his sister."</p> + +<p>"The Marquis is rather a decent fellow," continued +Junius languidly. "Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Harry calmly; "no decent person does. +Nor Lord Archibald, either. They're the worst pair of +rounders in England. My uncle doesn't even speak to +them in the street."</p> + +<p>"Oh." Junius' face was a study, but Harry was sitting +so that he could not see it, and had to be contented with +Trotwood's subsequent account of it. There was silence +for a few moments, during which Harry waited with perfect +certainty for Junius' next remark.</p> + +<p>"Well, of course we didn't know them <i>well</i>, at all. +They just came and shot with us once. That's nothing, in +Scotland."</p> + +<p>Victor Hugo was resumed after this and the translation +finished without further incident. The beautiful Junius, +however, needed no urging to "stick around" afterward, +and sat for an hour or more smoking cigarettes and chatting +pleasantly about his acquaintance, carefully culled +from the New York social register and the British peerage.<span class="pagenum">[86]</span></p> + +<p>"Well, Trotty," said Harry after the incubus had departed, +dropping a perfect shower of invitations to New +York, Newport, Palm Beach, the Adirondacks and the +Scottish moors; "what about it? Is the beautiful Junius, +friend of dukes and scion of Crusaders, an obnoxious, unhealthy +little vermin, or isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose he is. My, but he was fun, though! But +he's going to make the Dramatic Association after Christmas, +for all that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. He'll make whatever he sets out to make, +straight through. Nobody here will ever see through him. +He doesn't often give himself away as he did to-night, of +course. He talks up to each person on what he thinks +they'll like; to Josh Traill, for instance, he'll talk about +football, and to an æsthetic type, like Morton Miniver, on +Japanese prints and Maeterlinck's plays; and to you on +the Glee and Mandolin Clubs.... He has already, hasn't +he? Don't attempt to deny it; your blush betrays you! +That's the way his type gets on here; talk to the right people, +and don't talk to any one else, and in addition do a +little acting or whatever you can, and it'll go hard if you +don't make a senior society before you're through.... He's +clever, too; he'll make it, all right. You see, he only +gave himself away to me because he talked on a subject +where breeding counts, as well as knowledge.... It was +rash of him to try the duke and duchess stuff; he'd much +better have stuck to track, or something safe."</p> + +<p>"See here, Harry," said Trotwood, rising to go, "I +grant you that Junius has given himself away and that +he's a repulsive little beast, and all the rest of it, but +don't you think that you are taking the incident just a little +too seriously? It's an obnoxious type, all right, but it's +a common one. There are bound to be a few Juniuses in +every bunch of three or four hundred fellows wherever +you take them; Oxford, or anywhere else. Why bother +about them? Let them blather on; they won't hurt you, as +long as you know them for what they are. And if Junius, +or one of his kind, gets too aggressive and unpleasant, all +you have to do is reach out your foot and stamp on him. +But don't let him worry you!"</p> + +<p>"How wise, how uplifting, how Browningesque!" +breathed Harry in satirical admiration. Trotty winced +slightly and made for the door. "Don't be a fool," Harry<span class="pagenum">[87]</span> +added, running after his retreating friend and grabbing +him. "You're dead right about all that, of course, as you +always are when you take the trouble to use your bean. +There's just one thing, though, when all is said and done, +that irritates me. Junius at Yale ends by making his +senior society, in spite of all. Junius at Oxford doesn't! +Do you know why? Because there aren't any senior societies +there!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[88]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p class="h3">A LONG CHEER FOR WIMBOURNE</p> + +<p>Harry did eventually bestir himself to the extent of +hiring a locker in the track house and going out and +"exercising," as he called it, three or four afternoons a +week. He enjoyed it, but he obviously did not take it +very seriously. He was neither good enough nor enthusiastic +enough to attract the attention of the coach and captain, +and it was something of a surprise to all concerned +when he took a first place in the low hurdles in the fall +meet and became entitled to wear his class numerals.</p> + +<p>"Fine work," said the captain, a small and insignificant-looking +senior, who could pole vault to incredible +heights without apparent effort. "Macgrath tells me you +haven't come within two seconds of your time to-day in +practise."</p> + +<p>"No," said Harry; "I've been working more at the +jumps."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd better stick to the hurdles from now on. +We're weakest there. You practise and train regularly +this year and next year you'll probably be the best man +on the hurdles we have. Except Popham, of course. But +we never can depend on Popham for a meet; he's always on +pro, or something."</p> + +<p>That evening after dinner Harry strolled into Trotwood's +room.</p> + +<p>"Say, you're the hell of a fine hurdler, you are," +growled the latter, from the depths of a Morris chair. +Harry was somewhat taken aback till his friend suddenly +clutched at his hand and began swinging it up and down +like a pump handle. Then he realized that objurgation +was merely Trotwood's gentle method of expressing pleasure +and affection. Delight shone in his face; not delight +in his triumph but in the thought that it meant something +to Trotwood and that he understood Trotwood's peculiar +way of showing it.</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Trotty dear," he said. "Never mind<span class="pagenum">[89]</span> +about giving me back my hand; I shall have no further use +for it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think you're quite a man now, don't +you?" continued Trotwood in the same vein. "Just because +you won a damned race against people that can't +run anyway."</p> + +<p>"Sweet as the evening dew upon the fields of Enna fall +thy words, O sage," said Harry. "You're really quite +a wonderful person at bottom, aren't you, Trotty? How +did you know that the last thing I'd want was to be slathered +over with congratulations by you? Good Lord, you +ought to have heard Junius LeGrand on the subject!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind about LeGrand. Speaking seriously, it's +a great thing for you, Harry. I don't suppose you realize +that, bar that unspeakable rounder Popham, you're the +coming man in the hurdles from now on? Why, you've +got your Y absolutely cinched for next year, with him going +on the way he does!"</p> + +<p>"So it seems," said Harry dryly. "I seem to have heard +the name of Popham before. Suppose we talk about something +else.... Look, Trotty; will you room with me next +year?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Trotwood, blushing deeply, and continued, +after a pause: "I've wanted to arrange that for +some time, but I thought you'd better be the one to mention +the subject first."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know; I thought if I asked you, you'd +accept out of plain good nature, for fear of throwing me +down, and I didn't want that."</p> + +<p>"Well, as it happened, I was determined to let the first +advances come from you, for very much the same reason. +Until just now, when I was so afraid you'd room with +some one else that I couldn't wait another minute. I've +lost all sense of maidenliness, you see."</p> + +<p>"Maidenliness be hanged. You don't have to be maidenly +when you've won your numerals at track."</p> + +<p>That was on a Saturday. James had been out of town +with the football team and did not return till late that +evening. The next day he and Harry walked out to their +old home together for their regular Sunday dinner with +Aunt Selina. On the way they discussed at length the +fine points of the game of the day before, in which James<span class="pagenum">[90]</span> +had played right half with great distinction. Presently +he inquired:</p> + +<p>"By the way, how about the fall meet yesterday? How +did you come out?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fairly well. I only entered in the low hurdles, +but I came out all right."</p> + +<p>"All right?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—first."</p> + +<p>"What? Do you mean to say that you got first place +in the hurdles?"</p> + +<p>"Substantially that, yes."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord. I hadn't heard a thing. Went straight +to bed when I got home last night and only got up this +morning in time for Chapel. Why, it's the best ever, +Harry! You get your numerals. You must be about the +first man in your class to do that. What was your time?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty rotten. Twenty-five two."</p> + +<p>"Not so bad. Gee, but that's fine for you, child!"</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're pleased, James."</p> + +<p>"It isn't merely the getting of your numerals in the +fall meet, either. It means that you'll be one of the main +gazabes in the track world from now on, if you work. +There's no one here that can make better time than you +in the hurdles, bar Popham, who makes such a fool of +himself they can't use him, mostly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn," said Harry softly and slowly.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Forgotten something?"</p> + +<p>"No. I can't forget something, that's the trouble."</p> + +<p>"Well, what <i>is</i> biting you?"</p> + +<p>"Only that if I hear the name of Popham much more, +I believe I shall go mad on the spot."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't take it so hard as that. Most likely you'll +be able to beat him out anyway, if you make progress, and +he's likely to drink himself out of college anyway before—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up, James, for Heaven's sake!" There was real +anger in Harry's tone, and James turned and looked at him +with surprise. "You're as bad as every one else—worse! +Don't <i>you</i> know me better than to suppose that all my +chances of happiness in college, in this world, in the next, +depend on Popham's drinking himself to death? Do you +think it's pleasant for me to know that every one considers +my—my success, I suppose you'd call it, dependent +on whether that rounder stays off probation or not? You +make me sick, James."<span class="pagenum">[91]</span></p> + +<p>James remained silent a moment. "No offense meant," +he said gently. "I'm sure I'm sorry if—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot!" Harry disclaimed offense by slipping his +hand through his brother's arm. "Only you don't seem +to <i>see</i>, James. That's what bothers me."</p> + +<p>"Well, no; I'm afraid I don't. It will be a great thing +for you if you get your Y next year. Do you think it's +low of me to wish that Popham, who is no good anyway, +should get out of your way?"</p> + +<p>"No; the wish is kindly meant, of course.... But this +idea that my whole worldly happiness is tied up with +Popham takes the pleasure out of it all, somehow. I don't +give a continental whether I get my Y or not, now."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on. Don't be morbid."</p> + +<p>"No. I've a good mind not to go out for track any +more."</p> + +<p>James made no answer to this, and the two walked on +in silence till they had reached the house. As they walked +up the front steps James said:</p> + +<p>"You must tell Aunt Selina all about this. She'll be +awfully glad to hear about it."</p> + +<p>"Including Popham," said Harry in a low voice. James +made no reply to this, for it scarcely called for a reply, but +his lips were ever so slightly compressed as he walked +through the front door.</p> + +<p>During the idle months that followed Harry used his +spare time for efforts in another and wholly different direction—a +literary one. He became what is known in the +parlance of the college as a "<i>Lit.</i> heeler"; that is, he contributed +regularly to the <i>Yale Literary Magazine</i>. For +the most part his contributions were accepted, and in the +course of a few months his literary reputation in his class +equaled his athletic fame. His verses, written chiefly in +the Calverly vein, were equally sought for by both the <i>Lit.</i> +and the <i>Record</i>, the humorous publication, and his prose, +which generally took the form of short stories with a great +deal of very pithy, rapid-fire dialogue in them, was looked +upon favorably even by the reverend dons whose duty it +was to review the undergraduates' monthly offerings to the +muses.</p> + +<p>"Has a cinder track been laid to the top of Parnassus?" +wrote one who rather prided himself on his quaint and +whimsical fancy. "Do poets hurdle and sprint where once +they painfully climbed? Do the joyous Nine now stand<span class="pagenum">[92]</span> +at the top holding a measuring tape and wet sponges, instead +of laurel wreaths, as of old? Assuredly we shall +have to answer in the affirmative after reading the story +'Quest and Question' which appeared in the last issue of +the <i>Lit.</i>, for not only is the writer of this, the best and +brightest offering of the month, a mere freshman, but a +freshman who, it seems, has distinguished himself so far +for physical rather than mental agility. The 'question' +about Mr. Wimbourne appears, indeed, to be whether the +fleetness of his metrical feet can equal that of his material +ones," etc.</p> + +<p>All this amused Harry, who, it is to be feared, sometimes +laughed at rather than with his reviewers; and it +gave him something to think about outside of his studies and +his classmates, both of which palled upon him heavily at +times. But he was irritated from time to time by the +way in which even literary recreation was looked upon, +by the undergraduate body. A casual and kindly remark +of a classmate, "Hullo, I see you're ahead in the <i>Lit.</i> +competition," would often throw him into a state of restless +depression from which only the soothing presence of +Trotwood could reclaim him.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it awful, Trotty," he once complained; "Euterpe +(she's the lyric muse, you know), has deserted me. I +haven't been able to write a line for a month. Of course +the loss to the world of letters is almost irreparable, but +that's not the worst of it. You see, if I can't write, I +shan't do well in the <i>Lit.</i> competition, and if I don't do +well I shan't make the chairmanship, and if I don't make +the chairmanship in the competition, I shan't make a senior +society, and wouldn't that be terrible, Trotty?"</p> + +<p>"Cheer up, old cow; you probably won't make one anyway," +suggested Trotty reassuringly, and Harry laughed.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The football game with Harvard was played in New +Haven that year, and Harry took Aunt Selina to it. Aunt +Selina had never seen James play, and was anxious to go +on that account, though she had not been to a game for +many years, and even the last one she had seen was baseball.</p> + +<p>"You must explain the fine points of the game to me, +my dear," she told him as they drove grandly out to the +field in her victoria. "You see, I have not been to a game<span class="pagenum">[93]</span> +since the seventies, and I daresay the rules have changed +somewhat since then. I used to take a great interest in it, +but I've forgotten all about it, now."</p> + +<p>They were obliged to abandon the victoria at some distance +from the stands, rather to Aunt Selina's consternation, +for she had secretly supposed that they would watch +the play from the carriage, as of old. She was consequently +somewhat bewildered when, after fifteen or twenty +minutes of such shoving and shouldering as she had never +experienced, she found herself in a vast amphitheater +which forty thousand people were trying to convert into +pandemonium, with very fair success. As they wormed +their way along the sidelines toward their seats, a deafening +roar suddenly burst from the stands on the other side +of the field, which caused Aunt Selina to clutch her +nephew's arm in affright.</p> + +<p>"Harry, what <i>is</i> it?" she asked. "<i>What</i> are they making +that frightful noise about?"</p> + +<p>"That's the Harvard cheer," replied Harry calmly. +"You'll hear the Yale people answering with theirs in just +a minute."</p> + +<p>The Yale people did answer, but it would be too much +to say that Aunt Selina heard. She was vaguely conscious +of going up some steps and being propelled past a line of +people to what Harry told her were their seats, though +she could see nothing but a narrow bit of board. Nevertheless +she sat down, and tried to accustom her ears and +eyes to chaos; just such a chaos, she thought, as Satan fell +into, only larger and noisier.</p> + +<p>"Here we are," Harry was saying cheerfully, "just in +time, too. The teams will be coming on in a minute or two. +What splendid seats James has got us, bang on the forty +yard line. Why, we're practically in the cheering section! +Do you know the Yale cheer, Aunt Selina? You must +cheer too, you know; it's expected of you.... Here comes +the Yale team...."</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina lost the rest, as chaos broke forth with redoubled +vigor. She saw a group of blue-sweatered figures +run diagonally across the field, and thought the game had +begun.</p> + +<p>"Which is James?" she asked feverishly, feeling chaos +work its way into her own bosom. "Do you think he'll +win, Harry? Oh, I do hope he'll win!"<span class="pagenum">[94]</span></p> + +<p>When the team lined up for its short preliminary practise +Harry pointed James out to her in his place at right +halfback.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said, gazing intently through her field +glasses, "he's one of those three little ones at the back. +Does that mean that he'll be the one to kick the ball? I'd +rather he kicked it than be in the middle of all that tearing +about. Poor boy, how pale he looks!"</p> + +<p>"He won't look pale long," said Harry grimly.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina by this time felt every drop of sporting +blood in her course through her veins. "Which is the +pitcher, Harry?" she inquired knowingly, and was not in +the least abashed when her nephew informed her that +there was no pitcher in football.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said she indulgently, "isn't there really? +Things do change so; I can't pretend to keep up with them. +I remember there used to be a pitcher in my time, and +Loring Ainsworth used to be it."</p> + +<p>Just then the teams set to in deadly earnest, and conversation +died. In bewildered silence Aunt Selina watched +the twenty-two players as they ran madly and inexplicably +up and down the field, pursued by the fiendish yells of the +spectators, and wondered if in truth, she were dead and +this—well, purgatory.</p> + +<p>She made no attempt to understand anything that was +going on down on the field, or even to watch it. She turned +her attention to Harry; he seemed to be the most familiar +and explicable object in sight, though she wondered why +he should leap to his feet from time to time shouting such +nonsense as "Block it, you ass!" or "Nail him, Sammy, +nail him!" or "First down! Yay-y-y!" Presently she +became aware of a growing intensity in the excitement. +The players seemed to be moving gradually down toward +one end of the field, and short periods of breathless silence +in the audience punctuated the shouts. She heard cries of +"Touchdown! Touchdown!" emanate from all directions, +but they meant nothing to her. The players moved further +and further away, till they were all huddled into one little +corner of the field. Every time they tumbled over together +in that awful human scrap-heap she shut her eyes, +and did not open them again till she was sure it was all +right. Finally, after one of those painful moments, there +was a relapse of chaos, fifty times more severe than any +<span class="pagenum">[95]</span> +<a id="P95"></a> +of the previous attacks. Women, as well as men, shrieked +like maniacs, and threw things into the air. Trumpets +bellowed and rattles rattled; somewhere in the background +was a sound of a brass band, of an organized cheer. Hats +and straw mats flew through the air in swarms.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" shrieked Aunt Selina. "Who won? +Who won?"</p> + +<p>"It's a touchdown!" Harry shouted in her ear. "For +Yale! It counts five!" (It did, then.) "And James did +it! James has made a touchdown!" And in a moment +Aunt Selina had the unusual pleasure of hearing her own +name shouted in concert by ten or fifteen thousand people +at the top of their voices.</p> + +<p>"—rah rah rah Wimbourne! Wimbourne! Wimbourne!" +shouted the crowd, at the end of the long Yale +cheer, and they went on shouting it, nine times; then another +long cheer, and nine more Wimbournes, and so on.</p> + +<p>It was a great moment. Is it to be wondered that Aunt +Selina, who did not know a touchdown from a nose-guard, +shrieked with the others and wept like a baby? Is it +strange that Harry, to whom the event meant more than +to any other person among the forty thousand, should have +forgotten himself in the expression of his natural joy; +should have forgotten where and what and who he was, +everything but the one absorbing fact that James had made +a touchdown? We think not, and we have reason to believe +that every man jack out of the forty thousand would +have agreed with us. One did, we know. She thought it +was the most natural thing in the world, though it did set +her coughing and disarranged her hat and veil beyond all +hope of recovery without the assistance of a mirror, not +to mention a comb and hairbrush. And Harry needn't +apologize any more, for she wouldn't hear of it; and the +way she had behaved herself, in the first excruciating moment, +was a Perfect Disgrace. So they were quits on that +matter, and might she introduce Mr. Carruthers? Mr. +Wimbourne. Was Harry surprised that she knew who +he was? Well, she would explain, and also tell him who +she was herself, if she could ever get the hair out of her +mouth and eyes.</p> + +<p>For it must be explained that Harry, in his transports +of exultation, had behaved in a very unseemly manner +toward his next-door neighbor on the right hand. Aunt<span class="pagenum">[96]</span> +Selina, who sat on his left, had sunk, exhausted with joy +and excitement, to her seat as soon as she was told that +James had made a touchdown, and Harry, whose feelings +were of a nature that demanded immediate physical expression, +had unconsciously relieved them on the person of +his other neighbor, who still remained standing; never noticing +who or what she was, even that she happened to be +a young and attractive woman. Harry never could remember +what he had done in those hectic seconds that +immediately preceded his awareness of her existence; according +to her own subsequent account he had slapped +her violently several times on the back, put his arm around +her, shaken her by the scruff of her neck and shouted inarticulate +and impossible things in her ear.</p> + +<p>The interval of hair-recovery was tactfully designed to +give Harry a moment's grace in which to recall, if possible, +his neighbor's identity; she was perfectly able to tell who +she was with the hair in her mouth and eyes, proof of +which was that she had been talking in that condition for +the past few minutes. Harry was grateful for the intermission.</p> + +<p>"Why of course I know you!" he exclaimed, as soon as +the dying away of the last nine Wimbournes made conversation +feasible. "It was stupid of me not to remember +before. Do you remember; dancing school?.... It +must have been ten years ago, though; and you <i>have</i> +changed!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose I have changed—thank Heaven!" The +exclamation given with a smile through a now unimpeachably +neat veil, seemed in some subtle, curious way to vindicate +Harry, to emphasize his innocence in failing to +recognize her. "I know what I looked like then, all long +black legs and stringy yellow hair—"</p> + +<p>"Not stringy," said Harry, recognizing his cue; "silky. +I remember the long black—the stockings, too. And lots +of white fluffy stuff in between; lace, and all that.... And +we used to dance a good deal together, because we +were the two youngest there, and you were so nice about it, +too, when you wanted to dance with the older boys. But +how did you know me? Haven't I changed, too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; but not so much. Boys don't. Beside, I +knew your aunt by sight...."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, I forgot," said Harry. "Aunt Selina, do<span class="pagenum">[97]</span> +you know Miss Elliston? And Mr. Carruthers, my aunt."</p> + +<p>"Madge Elliston," corrected the girl, smiling, "you know +my mother, I think, Miss Wimbourne."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do, my dear; I am delighted to meet her +daughter," said Aunt Selina, who had had time to recover +her customary <i>grande dame</i> air, "I knew her when +she was Margaret Seymour; we used to be great friends."</p> + +<p>And so forth, through the brief but blessed respite that +follows a touchdown. There is no need to quote the conversation +in full, for it degenerated immediately into the +polite and commonplace. If we could give you a picture +of Madge Elliston during it, if we could do justice to the +sweetness and deference of her manner toward Aunt Selina, +her occasional smile, and the easy way she managed to +bring both Harry and Mr. Carruthers into the conversation, +that would be a different thing.</p> + +<p>The next kick-off brought it to an end, and all parties +concerned turned their attention once more to the field. +Harry attempted to explain some of the rudiments of the +game to Aunt Selina, who confessed that her recollections +of the rules of the seventies were not of material assistance +to her enjoyment. And so passed the first half.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, I believe I know exactly what you're +thinking of?" was the next thing Harry heard from his +right. It was between the halves; Miss Elliston was in +an intermission of Mr. Carruthers, and Harry was listening +in silence to "Fair Harvard," which was being rendered +across the field.</p> + +<p>"Do you?" he replied. "Well, I'll tell you if you're +right."</p> + +<p>"You were thinking of 'Forty Years On.'"</p> + +<p>The smile died from Harry's face, and he paused a moment +before replying, almost gruffly:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. How did you guess +it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know all about you, you see." She stopped, and +her silence seemed to Harry to mean "I'm sorry if I've +hurt you; but I wish you'd go on and talk to me, and not +be absurd." So he threw off his pique and went on:</p> + +<p>"I don't know how you know about my going to Harrow, +nor how you know anything about 'Forty Years On,' +and I don't care much; but I put it to you, as man to man, +isn't it a song that's worth thinking about?"<span class="pagenum">[98]</span></p> + +<p>"It is! There never was such a song."</p> + +<p>"Not even 'Fair Harvard'?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Not even 'Bright College Years,' to which you will +shortly be treated?"</p> + +<p>"Not even that." They exchanged smiles, and Harry +continued, with pleasure in his voice:</p> + +<p>"Well, it is a relief to hear some one say that, in a place +where 'For God, for country, and for Yale' is considered +the greatest line in the whole range of English poetry. +But of course I'm a heretic."</p> + +<p>"You like being a heretic?" The question took him by +surprise; it was out of keeping, both in substance and in +the way it was asked, with Miss Elliston's behavior up to +this point. He gathered his wits and replied:</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; who doesn't? Is there any satisfaction like +that of knowing that every one else is wrong and you alone +are right?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not! That's the main danger of heresy, +don't you think? Subjective, not objective. Being burned +at the stake doesn't matter, much; it's good for one rather +than otherwise. But thinking differently from other people +merely for the pleasure of being different, and above +them—there's danger in that, isn't there?"</p> + +<p>"Then there is no such thing as honest heresy?"</p> + +<p>"That was not what I said." This remark, spoken +gently and with a quizzical little smile, had none of the +sharpness that cold type seems to give it. Adopting something +of her manner, Harry pursued:</p> + +<p>"But I am not an honest heretic?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't say that, either." Again the smile, which +seemed to be directed as much toward herself as toward +him, softened the words. "And aren't you rather trespassing +on female methods of argument?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Applying abstract remarks to one's own case; that's +what women are conventionally supposed to do. But don't +let's get metaphysical. What I want to say is that, though +I think 'Forty Years On' is incomparably finer, as a song, +than 'Bright College Years,' I wouldn't have it changed if +I could. The 'For God, for country, and for Yale' part, I +mean; and 'the earth is green or white with snow,'—a +woefully under-appreciated line.... There is something<span class="pagenum">[99]</span> +priceless, to me, in the thought of a great crowd of men, +young and old, getting up and bellowing things like that +together, never doubting but that it's the greatest poetry +ever written. That's worth a great deal more, to me, than +good poetry.... They're all such dears, too; the absurdity +never hurts them a bit!"</p> + +<p>"By George," said Harry slowly, "you're right. I +never thought of that before. It is rather a priceless +thought."</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it? It's the full seriousness of it that makes +it so good. 'For God, for country, and for Yale'—it's no +anti-climax to them; it's the way they really feel. It's +absurd, it's ridiculous. But I love it, for some reason."</p> + +<p>"That's it. You make me see it all differently.... You +mean, I suppose, that if we could start from the beginning +with a clean slate, we would choose 'Forty Years +On,' or something like it, every time. But now that we've +got the other, and they sing it like that, it seems just as +good, in its way ... so that we wouldn't like to change +it...."</p> + +<p>He wanted to add something like "What an extraordinary +young person you must be, to talk of such things to +me, a stranger, under such conventional circumstances," +but a simultaneous recurrence of Mr. Carruthers and the +game prevented him. It is doubtful if he would have +dared, anyway.</p> + +<p>He spoke no more to her that day, except to say good-by +and ask if he might call. Nor did he think much more of +her. We would not give a false impression on this point; +he was really much more interested in the game than in +Miss Elliston, and after the second half was fairly started +scarcely gave her another thought. But in the moment +that intervened between the end of their conversation and +the absorbing scurry of the kick-off it did occur to him +that Madge Elliston had grown up into an unusual girl, +a girl whom he would like to know better. Their short +conversation had been as different from the ordinary run +of football game civilities between young men and maidens +as champagne from water. Harry liked girls well enough, +and got on well with them, but in general they bored him. +He had never met one, except Beatrice Carson, with whom +he was able to conduct anything approaching an intellectual +give-and-take, and even Beatrice was no more than<span class="pagenum">[100]</span> +an able follower in his lead. Madge Elliston was a bird +of a very different feather; she had undeniably led him +during every moment of their conversation. It was a new +sensation; he wondered if it would always be like that, +in future conversations.</p> + +<p>But football was uppermost in his mind for the remainder +of that day, at least. He was proud and pleased beyond +all expression about James, and longed to grasp his +hand in congratulation. But he had to go all the way home +with Aunt Selina after the game was over, and when at +last he reached Berkeley Oval he met James hurrying away +somewhere and could give him only the briefest and vaguest +expressions of pleasure. On returning to York Street he +learned that the team was to have a banquet that evening, +in the course of which they would elect their captain for +the next year. It occurred to him that it would be nice +if James were elected, and it gave him pleasure to hear +Trotwood and others say that his chance was as good as +any one's.</p> + +<p>He stayed up to hear the result of the election, which +when it came was disappointing. James had missed the +honor, less, apparently, because he was not good enough, +than because some one else was considered even better. +Harry was sorry, though he lost no sleep over it. When he +saw James next morning, he spoke first of what was uppermost +in his heart.</p> + +<p>"James," he said impulsively, seizing his brother's +hand and hanging on to it as he spoke; "I want to say a +whole lot more about yesterday. I don't mind saying +you're the greatest thing that ever came down the pike, and +I'm proud to own you!" and more in the same vein, which +James received with smiling protests and remarks of a +self-depreciatory nature. But when Harry ended up +"And I'm sorry as heck about the captaincy," his manner +changed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," he said. His face became grave, +his whole attitude seemed to add: "And we won't talk +any more about that, please; it's a sore subject."</p> + +<p>Harry's easy flow of talk stopped short, and a new feeling +filled his mind. "Good Heavens, James cares, actually +cares about the confounded thing," he thought, and +dropped his brother's hand.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[101]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p class="h3">RUMBLINGS</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, could you give me any dope for the +<i>News</i> about your coming back to coach the football +team?" asked a timid voice from the doorway.</p> + +<p>"No, heeler, no; I've already said I wouldn't give anything +about that till I made up my mind, and I haven't +yet." Thus James, more petulantly than was his wont, +from his chair below the green-shaded lamp. The heeler, +obviously a freshman, blinked disappointedly through the +half-gloom for a few seconds and then moved to go.</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit," said James, his good-humor restored; +"I'm sorry, heeler. But when I tell you that you're the +thirteenth person that has come in at that door since seven +o'clock, and that I've got a hundred pages of economics +to read for to-morrow, perhaps you'll understand why I'm +a little snappy about being interrupted."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," murmured the heeler vaguely. He +was used to being snapped at by prominent seniors, but he +was not used to being apologized to by them, and was not +sure how he liked it.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I'll do, though," went on James. "I'll +give you a locker notice that ought to have been put in +long ago. Here." He reached for the heeler's notebook +and wrote in it: "All senior members of the football +squad are requested to remove their clothes from their +lockers as the space will be wanted for spring practice." +"There, that'll put you fifty words to the good, anyway," +he said brightly, and the heeler went his way in peace.</p> + +<p>James had conducted himself most creditably during his +college course, and in the course of a few months would +graduate if not exactly in a blaze of glory, at least in a +very comfortable radiance. His standard of values had +been a simple but satisfactory one; first, Football; second, +Curriculum; third, Other Things. Any number of the +steadier and worthier portion of the college world make +this their creed, and find it works out extremely well. In<span class="pagenum">[102]</span> +the case of James, at least, such a standard gave a sane +and well-balanced view of life. He took football with the +most deathly seriousness, it is true, but only in its season, +and its season, owing to the rigors of the New England +climate, lasts hardly more than two months out of the +twelve. During that time James practically hibernated +when not actually on the football field, lived mainly on +boiled rice and barley water, indulged in no amusements +or vices, went about thoughtful and preoccupied, scarcely +spoke even to his most intimate friends, studied only just +enough to keep his stand above the danger mark and slept, +as Harry rather vividly put it, "anywhere from thirty +to forty hours out of the twenty-four." Out of the football +season he was cheerful, cordial, loved the society of +his fellows, smoked, drank in moderation, went to the +theater, played cards, ate every kind of food he could lay +his hands on and studied with a very faithful and intelligent +interest. His classmates admired him during the +football season, and loved him the rest of the year. Generally +speaking, he conformed closely to his type; but his +type was one of the best the college evolved.</p> + +<p>After the <i>News</i> heeler left him on the evening in question +he read economics uninterruptedly for about half an +hour; then he took a cigarette from his case and lit it. +The case was the gold one that Harry had brought him +from Europe. He thought of Harry as he lay back in his +chair after lighting the cigarette, and it is not too much +to say that the thought of him impaired the pleasure of the +first few puffs. Harry was, indeed, the chief, the only +cloud on the horizon. It was too bad; he had begun so +well. No one could have desired a more brilliant freshman +year for him, what with his track work and his literary +success and the excellent stand he maintained in his +studies. And yet now, at about the middle of his sophomore +year, he seemed to be going in any direction but +that of fulfilling the promise of his first year. James +could see for himself, and he had heard things.... Perhaps, +after all, though, it was merely that he had begun +too well; that his promise was fulfilled before it was fairly +given. Many men graduated from college high in the +esteem of their classmates without having distinguished +themselves as much as Harry had in one year. Perhaps +he was really going on exactly as well as before, only<span class="pagenum">[103]</span> +people were just beginning to find out that he was only +an American boy of nineteen, not Apollo and Hermes +rolled into one. That was what James hoped; but it +occurred to him that if such had been the case the idea +would have come to him as a certainty, not as a hope.</p> + +<p>Harry himself sauntered into the room before the cigarette +was smoked out. Well, his outward appearance had +not suffered, at any rate, was James' first thought. The +slimness of his figure was unimpaired; his features retained +their clear-cut lines of youth and innocence; his complexion +shone with the glow of health, nothing else.</p> + +<p>"Give me a cigarette, and hurry up about it, too," were +his first words. "I've just been under a severe mental +strain.... It will probably be the last one for many +moons, too, if I start in training to-morrow, like a good +little boy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; you've been to the call for track candidates," +replied his brother, handing over the desired +commodities. "Well, was it a good meeting?"</p> + +<p>"Inspiring. Don't you see what a glow of enthusiasm +I'm in? First Dimmock got up and opened his mouth. +'Fellows,' he said, 'I'm darned glad to see you all here +to-night, but I wish there were more of you. I see fewer +men out than usual, and we need more than ever this year, +and I'll tell you why. We want to do better in the intercollegiates. +We think we are strong enough for the dual +meets, but we want to make a better show in the intercollegiates. +But we've got plenty of good material here, +and with that we ought to get together and work hard and +show lots of the old Yale spirit, for we'll need it all in the +intercollegiates.'</p> + +<p>"Well, Dimmock is a good soul, if he has got a face like +a boiled cod, and we cheered and clapped and patted him +on the back. Then Macgrath took the floor. He said he +thought we were going to have a good year, for there was +plenty of material in sight, though he was sorry to see so few +there to-night. He hoped we weren't forgetting what the +Yale spirit was, because we particularly wanted to do well +in the intercollegiates. He spoke of the new cinder track +and the lengthening of the two-twenty yard straight-away, +and ended with a hope that we would all get together and +do Yale credit in the intercollegiates.</p> + +<p>"Then McCullen, who as perhaps you know, is manager,<span class="pagenum">[104]</span> +got up. As he is a particular friend of yours I won't try +to give an exact account of what he said. His main points, +however, were the fewness of the candidates present, the +probable wealth of good material in hand, the new cinder +track and the desirability of doing well in the intercollegiates. +Lastly, a man called Hodgman, or Hodgson, or +something, who was captain back in the eighties somewhere, +was introduced. He spoke first of the new cinder track +and straight-away, from which he lightly and gracefully +went on to congratulating the team on having so much +good material this year—though he saw fewer there to-night +than he had expected. He closed with a touching +peroration in which he intimated that the track team had +in general come off well in regard to Harvard and Princeton, +and what was wanted now was a little better showing +against the other universities in the intercollegiates.... Oh, +it was a glorious meeting!"</p> + +<p>James fully appreciated the humor of this narrative, as +the sympathetic twinkle in his eye betrayed, but he merely +observed after Harry had finished:</p> + +<p>"Well, that's true; they ought to do better in the intercollegiates. +There's a good deal of feeling about it among +the graduates, too, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's <i>true</i> enough." Harry, who felt the heat of +the room, opened the window and lay down at full length +on the window-seat, directly in the draught. "I'd take +the word of those four noble, strapping, true-hearted men +for it any day in the year. Only—only—oh, heck! Why +should I have to sit up and listen to those boobs spend an +hour in telling me that one thing? And what the devil +do I care about it anyway, if it's the truest thing that ever +happened?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I care about it, though I'm no good at track and +not a member of the team," commented James.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if you were on it you wouldn't care quite so +much.—Well, I'll train and I'll practise regularly, not because +I want Yale to win the intercollegiates, but because +I think it's good for me. It is good for the figure, and I'd +rather have my muscles hard than soft."</p> + +<p>"Well, it comes to the same thing, if you keep to it, and +don't go gassing to the track people about your reasons."</p> + +<p>"I shall go gassing to every human being I've a mind +to.—And I'll tell you one thing there's going to be trouble<span class="pagenum">[105]</span> +about, if they try to use coercion, or the Yale spirit gag. +That's about the Easter vacation; there's some talk of +making the track people stay here and train. I have other +plans for Easter."</p> + +<p>"What are they?—For Heaven's sake, shut that window! +What a fool you are, lying in a draught like that, +with the track season beginning."</p> + +<p>"James, you are every bit as bad as any of them, at +heart," said Harry, shutting the window. "You wouldn't +give a continental if I caught pneumonia and died in +frightful agony, except for its cutting the university of a +possible place in the intercollegiates.—Why, I'm going +down to the Trotwoods' place in North Carolina. Trotty's +going to have a large and brilliant house-party. Beatrice +is going; he met her in New York not long ago and took a +great shine to her." For Beatrice, in the company of +Aunt Miriam, was paying a visit to the country of her +dreams.</p> + +<p>"What?" said James, pricking up his ears. "Beatrice +going? Why hasn't Trotty asked me?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't dare, I suppose," said Harry indifferently. +"I'll make him, though, if you like. That's the way the +King's visits are arranged; he says he'd like to visit some +distinguished subject, and a third party tells the distinguished +subject, who asks the King, who accepts. It's +complicated, but it gets there in the end."</p> + +<p>James did not seem particularly interested in points of +etiquette in royal households.</p> + +<p>"What do you make out of this business of the Carsons?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"What business?"</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you heard? Aunt C. told me about it when +I was there last Sunday. Beatrice's mother has made up +her mind to sue for a divorce, and Beatrice has quarreled +with her about it."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! No, I hadn't heard a thing. I knew +what the father was, of course.... Has anything in particular +happened?"</p> + +<p>"Apparently, yes. Aunt C. can tell you more exactly +than I. Beatrice has confided the whole thing to her—they're +thick as thieves already; she gets on better with +her than with Aunt Miriam, even. It seems that the husband, +Lord Archibald, is on to the fact that his wife has<span class="pagenum">[106]</span> +had a good deal of money to spend lately; Uncle Giles having +given her a lot since he got that—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. Go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's about the whole thing. He's been bullying +her, making her give it up to him ... and one thing +and another, till she got desperate, and decided to try for +a complete divorce. There's plenty of ground, even for +English law ... but Beatrice's idea is that there's no +need. Of course, it will mean a lot of scandal. She says +that if she had been there to deal with him there would +have been no talk about it, and that, at worst, a separation +would have been all that was necessary."</p> + +<p>"Poor Lady Archie! She has had a tough time; I +shall be glad to see her well out of it. A divorce—! Well, +she has more sense than I gave her credit for."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that Beatrice is quite right," said +James, a trifle stiffly. "I should have thought that a +divorce was the thing most to be avoided. It's not like an +American divorce.... I understand her point very well."</p> + +<p>Harry did not reply to this; he simply growled—made a +curious sound in the bottom of his throat. It amounted to +a polite way of saying "Nonsense!" Apparently James +accepted the implied rebuke, for he said no more on the +subject. His brother also was silent for some time and +gazed thoughtfully out on the lights of the Campus. "I've +got troubles of my own, James," he said presently. +"Have you heard anything about last night yet?"</p> + +<p>"Last night? No; what?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you've heard of Junius LeGrand, in our class?"</p> + +<p>"The actress? Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's become rather a power in the class; not only +he is making straight for the Dramat. presidency, but he's +more or less the center of a certain clique; the social +register, monogrammed cigarettes, champagne-every-night +and abroad-every-summer type; the worst of it, that is. +Well, I had a dreadful scene with him last night. I got a +thrill and called him names, and he didn't like it."</p> + +<p>"What happened?"</p> + +<p>"There was a whole bunch of us sitting round at Mory's, +and I was talking partly in French, as I usually do when—when +mildly excited, and referred to him as a 'petite +ordure.' Of course that isn't a pretty thing to call a person, +even in French, and I probably shouldn't have said<span class="pagenum">[107]</span> +it if I hadn't been drinking. I meant it all, though, and +was willing to stand by it, so when he got mad I called +him other and worse things, in English. He wasn't tight, +but he was pretty furious by that time, and there'd have +been a free fight if people hadn't held us apart."</p> + +<p>"That's pretty poor, Harry," said James gravely, after +a moment's consideration. "I don't mean your hating +LeGrand—though you needn't have actually come to quarreling +with him. But your being tight and he not puts +you in the wrong right off.—What's all this about your +drinking, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"I don't, so you could notice it.... That was the first +time I ever got carried beyond myself, except about once—or +twice. I'm not fond of the stuff; I only drink when +I want to be cheered up."</p> + +<p>"That's bad, too; it's much worse to drink when you're +in bad spirits than when you're in good," said James, with +a wisdom beyond his experience.</p> + +<p>"After I've drunk, the good spirits are in me," retorted +Harry, with rather savage humor.</p> + +<p>"It's no joking matter. Harry, will you cut it out entirely, +if I ask you to?"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to do some tall asking, I'm afraid.—I +don't like you much when you preach, James. I came +here for sympathy, not sermons."</p> + +<p>"You won't get me to sympathize with your making a +beast of yourself."</p> + +<p>"James, you know perfectly well you were tight as a +tick at the football banquet in Boston last fall."</p> + +<p>"I'm no paragon, I admit."</p> + +<p>"You say that as if you thought you were, and expected +me to say so. No, you're right—you're not. There!"</p> + +<p>James' humor suddenly changed. His grave face relaxed +into a smile, he rose from his chair and wandered +to the end of the room and back to the window-seat.</p> + +<p>"All right, we'll leave it at that; I'm not." He stood +for a moment hands in pockets, smiling down at his +brother. "It's nice to find one point we can agree on, +anyway.... I won't bother you. After all, I suppose +there's not much danger."</p> + +<p>"No ... I don't think I should ever really get to like +the stuff." But Harry did not smile and fall in with his +brother's mood; he had too much on his mind still. "I<span class="pagenum">[108]</span> +haven't told you the most disagreeable part of it," he went +on. "Something happened to-day that made me sorry I +had made a fool of myself. Shep McGee came to me to-day +and said that he'd heard about our little <i>coup de +théâtre</i>, and that he was sorry, but being one of Junius' +particular friends he couldn't be friendly with me any +more unless I apologized. I was sorry, because I've always +liked Shep and got on very well with him."</p> + +<p>"What did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course I was pretty peeved, and I messed it up +still further. I told him I was glad he'd spoken, because +henceforth my acquaintance would not be recruited conspicuously +from Junius' special friends. I said that, +strange as it might seem, I felt myself able to hand him, +Shep, over to Junius' complete possession without a tear. +I added that I thought he would find it safer in the future +to choose his friends exclusively from the cause of Christ, +and suggested that he might try to convert Junius to the +same august organization...."</p> + +<p>Some explanation may be necessary to show why this +remark outraged James' feelings to the extent it did. The +organization to which Harry referred was Dwight Hall, +the college home of the Y. M. C. A., Bible study classes, +city and foreign mission work, in all of which branches of +religious and semi-religious activity many of the worthiest +undergraduates interest themselves. James particularly +admired the organization and those who worked in it; he +would have gone in for some department of its work himself +had he possessed the qualities of a religious leader. +Most of his best friends were Dwight Hall workers; the +senior society to which he belonged was notorious for taking +many of them into its fold yearly—so much so, indeed, +that it has become a popular myth that an underground +passage exists between Dwight Hall and the society hall.</p> + +<p>Consequently, Harry's contemptuous epithet, together +with the tone in which he uttered it was quite enough to +shock and pain James very much. But what put him out +even more was the thought that Harry had said this to +Shep McGee. The latter was one of the most respected +men in Harry's class, and James had happened to take a +particular fancy to him. He rather wondered at McGee's +making a friend of such a person as LeGrand, but he +did not stop to think about that now.<span class="pagenum">[109]</span></p> + +<p>"Harry," said he in a sharp, dry voice, "I think that's +the rottenest remark I ever heard you or any one else make—if +you used that expression to McGee."</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"I never thought you were capable of saying such a +rotten thing, and I don't mind your knowing what I think +of it. Are you going to apologize to McGee?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, I shall. If I can't apologize on your behalf, at +least I can apologize for being your brother! What the +devil do you mean by saying such a thing, in cold blood, +to such a man? If you don't believe in the work yourself, +can't you let other people believe in it? What do you +believe in, anyway? Do you call yourself a Christian? +Do you call yourself a gentleman? Do you flatter yourself +that McGee isn't a hundred times a better man than +you are?"</p> + +<p>"Rumblings from the underground passage." This remark, +given with a cold, hard little smile, in which +there was no geniality, no humor, even of a mistaken +nature, amounted to a direct insult. Any reference made +to a Yale man about his senior society by an outsider, be +it a brother or any one else, is looked upon as a breach of +etiquette—was at that time, at any rate. Harry's remark +was worse than that; it was a rather cowardly thrust, +for he was insulting a thing that James, by reason of the +secrecy to which he was bound, could not defend.</p> + +<p>James did not reply; he simply grabbed up a hat and +flung himself out of the room. Harry listened to his footsteps +retreating down the stairs with a sinking heart; all +his anger, all his resentment ebbed with them, and by the +time they had died away there was nothing left but hopeless, +repentant wretchedness. In the last twenty-four +hours he had made a public disgrace of himself, he had +fallen out with one of his best friends, and he had wounded +the feelings of the last person on earth he wanted to hurt. +And all because of his asinine convictions, because he +thought his ideals were a little higher than other men's, +his honesty a little more impeccable than theirs.</p> + +<p>He got up and left the room, cursing himself for a fool, +cursing the fate that had brought him to this pass, cursing +Dwight Hall, the senior societies, the university that harbored +them, the school, the country that had put ideas<span class="pagenum">[110]</span> +into his head. But chiefest of all he cursed Junius LeGrand....</p> + +<p>But that did not do any good.</p> + +<p>The next morning he wrote and posted a note of apology +to James:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>Dear James—I am sorry about last night—really, I +am. I will try not to make such an ass of myself again.</p> + +<p class="author"> +"<span class="smcap">Harry.</span>"</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>The same evening he received an answer, also through +the mail. It was simply a post-card bearing the words:</p> + +<div class="inset14"> +<p>All right. <span class="smcap">James.</span></p> +</div> + +<p>Its curt, businesslike goodwill and the promptness of its +arrival comforted him somewhat. He wisely determined +to keep away from his brother for the present and let time +exert what healing effect it could. When they did meet +again, after some ten days' interval, no reference was +made to the episode. James was cordial, very cordial. +Far, far too cordial....</p> + +<p>"Trotty," said Harry mournfully that evening; "I +don't think you'd better room with me again next year. +You can't afford to, Trotty. I'm a pariah, an outcast. +Half the decent people in the class don't speak to me any +more. You simply can't afford to know me. It'll ruin +your chances."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd shut up," said Trotwood. "I'm trying +to study."</p> + +<p>"I mean it, Trotty. Don't pretend you don't hear, or +understand. I'm giving you warning."</p> + +<p>"Rot," said Trotty, beginning to blush. "Damned, infernal +rot."</p> + +<p>Harry sighed. "You're a good soul, Trotty. But it's +true. You'll be known as the only man in the class that +speaks to me, if you keep it up."</p> + +<p>"Will you shut up, you infernal idiot?"</p> + +<p>"No. I tell you, I'm going straight to the devil."</p> + +<p>Trotty rose from his chair and went to where Harry +stood. He gently pushed him back to the wall, and +pinning him to it looked him straight in the eyes. Harry +was surprised to see that his face was set and serious.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Trotwood, "I'm going to talk about this<span class="pagenum">[111]</span> +business this once, and if you ever mention the subject +again I'll break your damned head open. I'm going to +room with you next year. I'm going to room with you +the year after that, if you'll have me. If we ever split +up, it'll have to be because you're tired of me—not afraid +I'm tired of you, but actually tired of me. You're not +going to the devil. If you do, I don't give a damn. What +does friendship mean, anyway? Answer me that, damn +you!—damn you!—damn you—" His voice failed, but +his eyes still spoke.</p> + +<p>"All right, Trotty, we won't say any more about it, if +you feel like that." Harry smiled as he spoke the words, +but he felt more like crying.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[112]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p class="h3">AUNT SELINA'S BEAUX YEUX</p> + +<p>As Harry had anticipated, an issue arose between himself +and the powers in the track world concerning +the Easter vacation. The edict went forth that members +of the 'varsity squad were to remain in New Haven, in +strict training, through the holidays, and it was assumed +that he was to be of their number. None of the powers +asked him what he was going to do, and he did not think +it worth while to inform them of his plans.</p> + +<p>One day, about a week before the vacation began, he did +mention the subject casually to Judy Dimmock, the captain, +as they walked in from practice together. Dimmock's +consternation, as Harry said afterward, was pitiful to see.</p> + +<p>"But do you think you can get Macgrath's permission?" +he asked, stupefied.</p> + +<p>"Why in the world should I bother about asking Macgrath's +permission?" answered Harry. "Of course he +wouldn't give it to me."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that you're going without it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I'm going without it."</p> + +<p>Dimmock was bewildered rather than irritated, though +Harry's course of action defied his authority quite as much +as the coach's. "You'll have to be dropped from the +squad, then, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"So I supposed."</p> + +<p>"Harry, do you mean to say this work means no more +to you than that?" stammered Dimmock, all his convictions +seething in his brain. "Haven't you got any more respect +for your college and traditions than that? Don't you see +what good discipline it is to buckle down to work and keep +at it, whether you like it or not?"</p> + +<p>Harry waited a moment before replying, wondering +how he could silence Dimmock without angering him.</p> + +<p>"That would all sound very well, if it were the dean and +not the track captain that said it," he ventured.<span class="pagenum">[113]</span></p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't understand you, Harry." There +was such a complete absence of anger in the other's tone +that Harry felt a momentary outburst of sympathy for +this honest, good-tempered creature.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Judy," he said. "The fact is, you take +track deadly seriously, and I don't. That's all there is to +it. So we're bound to disagree."</p> + +<p>So Harry went to the North Carolina mountains and +shot quail and rode horseback and played bridge and carried +on generally with James and Beatrice and Trotty and +eight or ten others of his age. When he returned to New +Haven he went out to the track field and jumped and ran +about as before, but nobody paid any attention to him. +Nor was he asked to rejoin the training table.</p> + +<p>"It'll do him good to let his heels cool for a while," +observed Dimmock to Macgrath.</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, but you'd better not let them +cool too long, if you want to get a place in the hurdles with +Harvard," granted the coach.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid all along we'd have to take him on +again," said the other. "He gets better and better on the +track all the time, and queerer and queerer every other +way. I don't trust him."</p> + +<p>"He's a second Popham," said Macgrath.</p> + +<p>About a week before the Harvard meet Dimmock approached +the second Popham and with very commendable +absence of anything like false pride asked him if he would +please put himself under Macgrath's orders for the next few +days and run in the meet. Harry graciously consented. +He hurdled abominably badly for a week, showing neither +form nor speed; then he hurdled against Harvard and +beat their best men by a safe margin. He won a first +place, and his Y.</p> + +<p>But that did not make him any more popular in the +track world.</p> + +<p>Later in the spring Beatrice came on for a visit, anxious +to see the university that Harry had preferred to Oxford. +She and Lady Fletcher stayed with Aunt Selina; presently +Aunt Miriam went on and left Beatrice alone there. She +and Aunt Selina struck up one of those unaccountable intimacies +that occasionally arise between people of widely +different ages.</p> + +<p>"I do like your relations," she once told Harry; "I<span class="pagenum">[114]</span> +like your country and your university and your friends +well enough, but I like your people even better. I like +your Uncle James, though I'm scared to death of him, and +Aunt Cecilia of course is a dear; but I like Aunt Selina +best. I never saw such a person! I didn't know you had +her type in America. She makes Aunt Miriam look like +a vulgar, blatant little upstart!"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Harry, laughing. "Did you tell Aunt +Miriam that?"</p> + +<p>"Something to that effect, yes. She laughed, and said +that she had always felt that way in her presence, too.—There's +more about Aunt Selina than that, though; there's +something wonderfully human about her, at bottom. I +have an idea she could get nearer to me, if she wanted to, +than almost any one else, just because her true self is so +rare and remote."</p> + +<p>Both Harry and James saw a good deal of Beatrice during +her visit. Harry was supposed to be in training again, +and it was his interesting custom to dine discreetly at the +training table at six o'clock and then dash out to his aunt's +and eat another and much more sumptuous meal at seven. +James was scandalized when he heard of this proceeding, +but he carefully refrained from saying anything to Harry +about it; he merely smiled non-committally when Harry, +with a desire of drawing him out, rather flauntingly referred +to it.</p> + +<p>"A few weeks ago he would have cursed me out," he +thought; "lectured me up and down about it. Now he +won't say anything because he's afraid it would bring on +another scrap." The thought made him feel lonely and +miserable.</p> + +<p>James was greatly taken with Beatrice; that was quite +clear from the first. He was attracted by her beauty, and +still more by her apparent indifference to it. He found +her more frank and sensible than American girls, whose +débutante conventionalities and mannerisms bored and +irritated him. He could not conceive of Beatrice "guying" +or "kidding him along" on slight acquaintance, as +most of his American friends did, or of Beatrice openly +dazzling him with her beauty, or using her prerogative of +sex by making him "stand around" before other people.</p> + +<p>One evening after dinner Beatrice, accompanied by both +the brothers, was walking down one drive and up the other,<span class="pagenum">[115]</span> +as the family were in the habit of doing on warm spring +evenings.</p> + +<p>"Are you both prepared to hear something funny?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"Fire away," they answered, and she continued:</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm probably going to come back here next +winter and live with Aunt Selina!"</p> + +<p>Harry gave a long whistle.</p> + +<p>"This from you! Are you actually going to turn Yankee, +too?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to give the Yankees a chance, at any rate! +You see, there are reasons why life for me wouldn't be +particularly pleasant at home next year.... I'm going +back with Aunt Miriam after Commencement, as we had +planned, to try to patch it up with Mama, and then, if +all parties are agreeable, as I'm pretty sure they will be, +I shall come back in the autumn. The idea is for me to +keep house for Aunt Selina and be her companion generally. +I shall receive a stipend for my valuable services, +so that I shall have the comfortable feeling of earning something. +Aunt Miriam thinks it's a fine plan. What do you +think about it?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's simply top-hole, to use the expression of +your native land. But won't you find New Haven a trifle +dull, after London, and all that?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think I shall, but in a different way. I shall +be quite busy, and I thought I'd go to some lectures and +things in the university and learn something.—Why don't +you say something, James?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's a wonderful idea." James had been thinking +so hard he had forgotten to speak. Did he perhaps +regret his lately-made decision not to come back and coach +the football team, but to take advantage of a business opening +in the Middle West? At any rate, he was startled +to observe what a leap his heart gave when Beatrice said +she was coming back. Was it possible, he asked himself, +that he was really going to care for this girl, with her dark +brown eyes and her aloof, aristocratic, unchallenging +ways?...</p> + +<p>But he was undeniably glad she was coming back, and +found occasion to tell her so more fully another time, when +they were alone.</p> + +<p>"I'm particularly glad," he added, "on Harry's account.<span class="pagenum">[116]</span> +He needs some one to keep an eye on him; do you +think you can do it?"</p> + +<p>"I've done that for some years," said Beatrice, smiling. +"I've been more of a brother to him than you have, really. +Why on earth did you never come over and see him all +that time, James?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows.... I was lazy; I got in a rut. I wish +I had, now."</p> + +<p>"Why, nothing's going wrong, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, damnably!—I beg your pardon. When he first +came back he did certain things that used to get on my +nerves, and I, like a fool, let it go on that way, thinking +that he was all wrong and I was all right. It's only lately +that I've come to see better ... and now, when he particularly +needs some steadying influence, I can't give it to +him. You see, he gets on other people's nerves, too; he +and his ideas—"</p> + +<p>"Ideas?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; fool notions he got about the way things are +done in England—"</p> + +<p>"Isn't that a trifle hard?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the ideas may be all right, but not the way he applies +them.... At any rate, they, or something else, are +playing the deuce with his college course. He's getting in +Dutch, all around—"</p> + +<p>"In Dutch," murmured Beatrice. "Oh, I do like that!" +But James did not notice the interruption.</p> + +<p>"And while I see all this going on I have to stand aside +and let it go on, because when I say anything it doesn't +do any good, but only irritates him and makes him worse."</p> + +<p>"I see. Well, I'm always willing to do what I can for +Harry, but I'm afraid I haven't any real influence over +him, either."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you have. He has the greatest respect for +you."</p> + +<p>"Not nearly as much as you think." Her usually calm +expression was clouded; she seemed disturbed about something. +Why did James feel a momentary sinking of the +heart when he noticed the seriousness of her face and +manner? It was nothing, though; gone again in a second. +Beatrice continued, in a more optimistic tone:</p> + +<p>"But I honestly don't think, James, that there's much +to worry about. I don't mean that he mayn't get into<span class="pagenum">[117]</span> +scrapes, but I don't think that there's anything seriously +wrong.... I have always had the greatest faith in him—not +only in his intellect, but in his character. So has +Uncle G.; he expects great things of him, says he has just +that combination of intellect and balance that results in +statues in public places."</p> + +<p>"The genius in the family is all confined to him; I'm +glad you realize that!" James could not help being a little +rasped by her harping on the good qualities of his brother, +nor could he help showing it a little. He immediately +felt rather ashamed of himself, however, for Beatrice replied, +in a gently startled tone:</p> + +<p>"Why, James, how bitter! You don't expect me to fling +bouquets at your very face, surely! I throw them at you +when I'm talking to Harry!"</p> + +<p>"You must throw a good lot of them, then, for you see +him alone often enough," was the somewhat gruff reply. +Beatrice must have considered it rather a foolish remark, +for she paid no attention to it.</p> + +<p>Harry's attitude toward her decision, as expressed in +his next <i>tête-à-tête</i> with her, was rather different from +that of his brother.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice," said he, "of course I'm pleased as Punch +about your coming here next year, both on my own account +and on Aunt Selina's, and all that sort of thing; but I hope +you won't think it rude of me if I ask why on earth you're +doing it. Of course, I know there are family unpleasantnesses, +and that you aren't particularly interested in London +balls, but that doesn't explain to me why, when you +really do occupy an enviable position over there, get asked +everywhere worth going, in season and out, and all that, +you should choose to be the paid companion of an old +woman in a small New England town. And I don't believe +it's Aunt Selina's <i>beaux yeux</i>!"</p> + +<p>"No!" said Beatrice, laughing; "I don't believe it's +quite all that, either!"</p> + +<p>"What will people think about it over there?" went on +Harry. "What'll your mother say?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mama will be perfectly delighted, even if +she doesn't say so," replied Beatrice, serious again. "The +truth is, Harry, poor Mama and I don't gee very well, +somehow.... Jane is a great comfort to her—a perfect +daughter—she came out this year, you know."</p> + +<p>"Is she as much of a social success as you?" asked Harry<span class="pagenum">[118]</span> +with that frankness that was characteristic of their relation.</p> + +<p>"Much more so—in a way. She uses her gifts to much +more effect."</p> + +<p>"She's not nearly as good-looking as you," persisted +Harry.</p> + +<p>It was a remark thoroughly in keeping with the spirit of +their comradeship, the kind of remark, expressive of a +plain truth, nothing more, that they prided themselves on +making and taking between themselves without the least +affectation or self-consciousness. Yet Beatrice simply +could not keep pleasure from sounding in her voice as she +replied:</p> + +<p>"Well, no; I suppose not. It's the only thing in which +I have the better of her, though. I'm very—"</p> + +<p>She began her reply in the old spirit, but could not keep +it up. She had started to say, "I'm very glad you think +that," then stopped herself, then wished she had gone +on. It would have been perfectly consistent with their old +"man-to-man" attitude, if she could have said it in the +right way!</p> + +<p>Harry noticed her halting, and looked up at her quickly. +He saw that she was blushing. "Good Heavens!" he +thought; "I hope Beatrice doesn't think I'm paying her +compliments!" The incident was slight, but it brought a +new and disturbing element into their relation. Indeed, +in that one little moment they ceased to remain boy and +girl in their attitude toward one another, and became man +and woman. They met often enough on the old terms of +frankness and intimacy, but sex interest and suspicion +always lurked in the background, ready to burst out and +break up things at any moment.</p> + +<p>The spring wore on; Commencement arrived; James +was graduated. Aunt Miriam, the James Wimbournes +and numerous youthful James Wimbournes came to stay +with Aunt Selina and see him graduate. Beatrice was also +there and Harry was of course on hand. He took little +part in the graduation festivities and amused himself +chiefly by showing his two eldest male cousins, Oswald and +Jack, the sights of the university and incidentally making +them look forward with a healthy dread to the day when +as freshmen first they would come to Yale.</p> + +<p>"This is the swimming-pool," he would tell them; "it<span class="pagenum">[119]</span> +doesn't look very big now, does it? Perhaps not! But it +<i>seems</i> pretty big, I can tell you, when the sophomores +dump you in there, in the pitch dark, and tell you it's +half a mile to shore and you've got to swim! And you +have to scramble out as best you can. <i>They</i> won't help +you!"</p> + +<p>"They don't do that to <i>every</i> freshman, though, do +they?" hopefully inquired Oswald, a nice, plump, yellow-haired, +wide-eyed youth of fourteen or so, the image of his +mother.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Muffins, indeed they do, every one, whether they +can swim or not," replied Harry seriously. (Oswald was +called Muffins because he was considered by his playmates +to look like one. This reason usually did not satisfy older +people, but after all, they did not know him as well as +those of his own age, and had no kick coming, at all.)</p> + +<p>"I say, Harry, it's awfully decent of you to tell us all +these things beforehand, so that we shall be warned when +the time comes!" This from Jack, who was twelve and +dark and looked like his father.</p> + +<p>"Harold Wimbourne, what on earth have you been telling +those children about Yale College?" was Aunt Cecilia's +indignant comment on his powers of fiction. "Neither of +them slept a wink last night, for thinking about what the +sophomores would do to them; and Jack asked me quite +seriously if he thought his father would mind much if he +went to Harvard instead, because he didn't think he could +ever swim well enough to live through his freshman year! +You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"</p> + +<p>Harry laughed unfeelingly, and refused to abate one jot +of the horrors of hazing. He even wished it were all true, +that these innocent and happy boys might have to go through +with it all, that some one would ever be miserable in college +beside himself. He scarcely spoke to James during the last +few days, though James remained cordial and cheery +enough toward him. But he was unnaturally cordial and +forbearing, and that drove Harry into despair, especially +as there was copious reason why James, under normal conditions, +should be neither cordial nor forbearing. Harry +had, a fortnight or so before Commencement, just after +training was broken up, taken part in one of those engagements +with the forces of law and order with which undergraduates +are wont to relieve the monotony of their humdrum<span class="pagenum">[120]</span> +existence. First there had been strong drink, and +plenty of it, after which came a period of vague but delightful +irresponsibility, culminating in much broken glass, +a clash with policemen and two or three arrests.</p> + +<p>Harry had escaped this latter ignominy, but as his name +enjoyed equal publicity with those of the more unfortunate +revelers, it did him little good. Nothing could possibly +be less to the liking of such a person as James, as +Harry realized perfectly at the time. He participated in +the affair neither because he liked strong drink nor because +he disliked policemen, but chiefly with a sort of desperate +desire to force James' hand, to make his brother take him +severely to task and end their mutual coolness in one rousing +scene of recrimination and forgiveness.</p> + +<p>But no such thing happened; James did not make the +slightest reference to the business! Harry also remained +silent on the subject, at first because of his amazement, +then out of obstinacy, and finally because he was genuinely +hurt. If James preferred that they should be strangers +to each other, strangers they should be. Meanwhile James +remained silent, of course, not because he did not take +enough interest in his brother, but because he took too +much. He refrained from mentioning the row because he +was afraid that a discussion of it would merely bring on +another quarrel, which he wished of all things to avoid.</p> + +<p>So the two brothers bade good-by to each other for the +summer in misunderstanding and mistrust, though their +outward behavior was cordial and brotherly enough. +James, who was starting almost immediately for the West, +smiled as he shook the hand of his brother, who was going +abroad for the holidays and said, "Well, so long; look out +for yourself and don't take any wooden money." Harry, +also smiling, replied in the same vein; but the smile died +on his lips and the words turned to gall in his mouth as +he thought what a bitter travesty this was of former partings, +when their gaiety was either natural or intended to +hide the sorrow of parting, and not, as now, wholly forced +and affected to conceal the relief that each could not but +feel in being far from the other.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[121]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p class="h3">AN ACT OF GOD</p> + +<p>It was five o'clock in the afternoon and five degrees +above zero. It was also very windy, which made it +seem colder to everybody except the thermometer; and as +the thermometer alone exhibited signs of being able to +stand a temperature of twenty or thirty or even forty degrees +colder without suffering disagreeable consequences, +that seemed rather unfair. For the wind, which was +blowing not in hysterical gusts but in the calm, relentless, +all-day-and-all-night, forty-to sixty-mile gale that you only +get west of the Great Lakes, <i>did</i> make it colder; there was +no doubt about that. Else why did every one keep out of +it as much as possible; walk on the protected side of the +street, seek shelter in doorways while waiting for trolley +cars, and so forth? Of course the wind made you colder; +so much colder that when you were sheltered from it, if +only for a moment, you felt comparatively warm, though +it was still five degrees above zero. Unless, that is, you +happened to be standing over one of those grated openings +in the sidewalk that belched forth their welcome though +inexplicable gusts of warm air into the outer world; if you +could get a place over one of those—gee, but you were the +lucky guy!</p> + +<p>That was the way you phrased it, at any rate, if you happened +to be twelve years old and a newsboy with an income +of—well, say thirty dollars a year, if that sounds sufficiently +insufficient to provide anything approaching decent +clothes, decent food and a decent place to live. If not, +make it as little as you like. The point is that the annual +income of a certain ten-year-old newsboy, by name of +Stodger McClintock, was preeminently, magnificently insufficient +to provide any of those commodities. As a consequence +of which, Stodger was cold. As another consequence +of which Stodger, the gay, the debonair, the unemotional, +the anything but tearfully inclined, was very +nearly in tears. People do actually suffer from the cold +occasionally, even in this effete and over-protected age,<span class="pagenum">[122]</span> +and Stodger was suffering. The volcanic opening was all +very well, but he could not stay there long. And the prospects +for the night were bad, and bad even for supper....</p> + +<p>There were tears in James' eyes also as he hurried along +from work, but they were entirely due to the wind. As +soon as he perceived Stodger, however, who dashed out at +him with the customary "Here's yer paper, mister!" at +an unexpected place in the side street instead of at the +corner as per custom, he realized that his (Stodger's) tears +were not entirely due to the wind.</p> + +<p>"Well, Stodger! What are you doing down here?" he +cried cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Trine t' git woim." Stodger's diction at best was imperfect +and it was now further impeded by a certain nasal +fluency, the joint result of the cold and contemplation of +domestic imperfections. But James understood, perfectly +well.</p> + +<p>"Well, Stodger, it is cold, I'll have to grant you that!" +he rejoined, and instituted fumbling operations into the +pocket where he kept his loose silver. "Give me a <i>Star</i> +and a <i>Sun</i> and a <i>Mercury</i>, too, will you? This is no time +for economy; the announcement of the all-American football +team is out to-night. Give me one of every paper you +have!"</p> + +<p>Pecuniary transaction ensued, parallel with conversation.</p> + +<p>"And how do <i>you</i> like this weather, Stodger?"</p> + +<p>"Me? Oh, <i>I</i> don't mind."</p> + +<p>"Don't you? Well, I do, I'm afraid. This is just a +little too cold for my pleasure. But then I'm not a husk, +like you."</p> + +<p>"Well—" there was concession in Stodger's voice—"it's +loike this. Some guys minds it, 'n' then they don't like t' +unbutton their coats 'n' fork out a penny fer a paper. 'N' +that makes bum bizniss. See?" Print is miserably inadequate +to give an idea of Stodger's consonants.</p> + +<p>"I see. Stodger, did you ever hear of an act of God?"</p> + +<p>"Huh?"</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind. A cold snap like this is an act of +God. Some natural cataclysm, something that can't be +prevented or even foreseen. Well, sir, opposed as I am to +indiscriminate giving, I'm going to break a rule this time. +All bets are off when an act of God comes along. Here's<span class="pagenum">[123]</span> +half a dollar. Can you get something to eat and keep +yourself warm over night with that?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I kin." Stodger grinned broadly for a second or +two; then his face clouded. "Aw, naw. Not off you. I +couldn't take that off you." He meant that only fools +gave away money, and he did not want to put James in +that category.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" James' smile, his unruffled good-humor, +had their effect. Surely a god that smiled and looked like +that could not be quite a fool, even if he gave away money. +"Now stop your guff; take the cash and cut along. So +long!... That was my trolley, dash it; you and your +confounded scruples have made me miss my car, Stodger!... Well, +let's take a look at the all-American football +team. Stoddard of Harvard, Brown of the Army, Steele +of Michigan...." He ran his eye down the list till interrupted +by a sharp exclamation from his friend.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but he's a bum choice!"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Steele."</p> + +<p>"Steele? Oh, I'm not so sure. He's death on running +back punts...."</p> + +<p>"Aw, he <i>is</i> not! I tell yer, he couldn't hang onto a punt +if 'twas handed to him on flypaper by a dago in a dress +suit, let alone run with it! My ole gran'mudder c'n run +better'n him, any day!" Domestic troubles being for the +nonce in abeyance Stodger was in a mood to let his tongue +run free on a favorite topic.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll have to put your grandmother in at all-America +left half next year." Stodger knew as well as +anybody when he was being laughed at, and held his peace. +"I didn't know you were such a football fan, Stodger."</p> + +<p>"Aw, yes. I'm some fan." This without enthusiasm, +in the bored tone in which one agrees to the statement of +a self-evident fact.</p> + +<p>"Well, I wonder. Stodger, do you think you could +recognize any all-America player if you saw him on the +street, in ordinary togs?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I could."</p> + +<p>"How many years back?"</p> + +<p>"T'ree years ... oh, more; four, five years, mebbe!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid you lose, Stodger!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, gwawn! Try me an' see!"<span class="pagenum">[124]</span></p> + +<p>"You've lost already, I tell you. You've been talking +to an all-America player for the last ten minutes and never +knew it!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, wotcha trine t' hand me! Run along 'n' tell it to +the cop on the corner! Tell it to me gran'mudder, if you +like; <i>she</i>'ll believe yer! You can't slip one like that on +<i>me</i>, I tell yer!" Stodger's contempt was magnificent, but +he rather marred the effect of it by adding suspiciously +"Wotcheer?" which amounted to a confession that he +might be wrong, after all.</p> + +<p>"Two years ago. Take a good look now, Stodger; see if +you can't recognize me." James turned so that the sunset +glow fell more strongly on his face. Stodger looked +with all his eyes, but remained unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"Line, er back?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Back."</p> + +<p>"I gotcha now! Wimboine! Wimboine! Right half! +Yale!" But experience had taught him that such dreams +usually fade, and he went on, disappointed: "Aw, naw. +Can't slip <i>that</i> on me. You're not that Wimboine. You +look a little bit like him, but you're not <i>that</i> Wimboine. +Brudder, p'raps. <i>You're</i> no football player."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Too thin. <i>You</i> c'd never tear through the line th' way +<i>that</i> feller did."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot; we'll end this, here and now." James +fumbled at length beneath his fur coat and produced the +end of a watch-chain on which dangled a little gold football +with his name, that of his college and the date of his +achievement on it. Stodger, convinced, simply stared. It +was as though Jupiter had stepped right down from +Olympus. James, with a smile at his consternation, resumed +his paper for the last minute or two before his car +arrived.</p> + +<p>"Say, mister! Mister Wimboine! You got my tail +twisted that time, all right! I'm a goat, I'm a simp, I'm +a boob! You got my number! Call me wotch like!"</p> + +<p>"All right, Stodger, I will." James spoke and smiled +through his reading. He had almost ceased to think of +Stodger, who was more entertaining when incredulous, and +was reading merely to kill time till his car arrived. +Stodger's tongue was still wagging:—</p> + +<p>"Say, dey was a guy useter live down Chicago called<span class="pagenum">[125]</span> +Schmidt—Slugger Schmidt, that was a cracker jack—middle-weight—ever +hear of him? I knew him, oncet ... +he had a little practise bout wid Riley th' other night—you +know, Hurrican Riley?—and laid him out in t'ree +roun's.... Say, mister, there goes yer car! That's the +Poik Street car went!"</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, did it? Never mind; I'm going to walk." +James was off; off almost before the words were out of his +mouth, and Stodger, struck by the sudden curtness of his +tone was afraid he had outraged the feelings of the god. +Mister Wimboine had clearly been deeply displeased about +something, and Stodger was sure it must have been something +more than the all-America football team.</p> + +<p>Of course Stodger was not really responsible for James' +displeasure and his sudden determination to walk the +three miles that lay between him and his club and dinner, +any more than was the composition of the all-America football +team. It was something much more serious; something +that made bodily exercise imperative lest cerebration +around and around one little particular point should make +him dizzy. For it was a very small thing that cerebration +was busy on, even if it did represent a great deal to James; +only a tiny paragraph at the bottom of the first page of +one of the evening papers. The single headline had first +caught his eye:—"Rates Heartache at $40,000," and then +with unbelieving eyes he read on: "New Haven, Conn., +Dec. 8. Myrtle Mowbray, a manicure living in this city, +has filed a suit of breach of promise of marriage for +$40,000 in the Superior Court here against Harold Wimbourne, +a student in Yale University. Mr. Wimbourne is +a member of an old and prominent New Haven family. +He is a senior in the academic department."</p> + +<p>A sort of mental and emotional nausea overcame James as +the meaning of those lines sank into his brain. The vulgar, +degrading cynicism of the headline! Breach of promise, +scandal, newspaper publicity—that was the sort of thing +that happened to other people, not to one's self. Such +things simply did not occur in families one knew, much less +in families by the name of Wimbourne. James had always +thought of that name as apart, aloof from such things, exempt +from all undesirable publicity. His family pride +was none the less strong for being so unconscious, so dormant; +now that it was outraged it flamed forth in a scorching +blaze.<span class="pagenum">[126]</span></p> + +<p>So loathing gave way to anger, and anger lasted a full +mile and a half. It would have lasted longer if it had +been concentrated on one person or thing, instead of +directed against several persons, several things, several +sets of circumstances, the order of things in general. For +James was not angry at Harry alone; even he realized that +before the mile and a half were up. He was angry at him +at first, but that soon passed off somewhat; his anger +seemed even to be seeking other objects, unconsciously—the +Mowbray woman, Uncle James, himself, Yale University, +the whole nature of man.</p> + +<p>But cerebration had a chance to get in a good deal of its +fell work during those three miles. As he swung open the +front door of the club and passed into the main lobby, with +its teeming confusion of electric lights and bellboys, he +was conscious of nothing but a quiet, deep, corroding disgust +that seemed to be as old as all time. It seemed as if +he had known of this disgrace for years; had almost had +time to outlive it, in fact. His first impulse was to go into +the bar and annex himself to one of the cheerful groups +that would be congregating there at this hour, and turn his +mind to something else. But almost immediately he remembered +that practically every one there would also have +read the evening paper, and he shuddered at the thought +of their pitying glances.</p> + +<p>Automatically following his daily custom he cheeked his +coat and hat at the cloak room and collected his mail from +his post-box. Then he went straight to the one room in the +club where he thought he was likely to be alone; a small +reading-room usually popular in the afternoon but deserted +by early evening. He found it empty, as he had expected. +With a sigh of relief he turned out all the electric +lights and threw himself on a couch in front of the open +wood fire—a graceful though unnecessary compliment on +the part of the club management to meteorological conditions.</p> + +<p>But unluckily his glance fell on the unopened letters +he still held in his hand, and immediately his trouble was +on him again. One of them he recognized as coming from +his Uncle James and the other, bearing the post-mark of +New Haven, was from Beatrice. With a slight groan of +combined resignation and disgust he tore open his uncle's +letter and read it by the flickering light of the fire.<span class="pagenum">[127]</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>Dear James:<br /> +Your young brother has made more of a mess of it +than we hoped would be the case. The Mowbray woman +has brought suit for $40,000, and is likely to get it, or a +good part of it, according to Raynham, whom I saw about +the business yesterday. She has letters and a spoken promise +in the presence of witnesses. We have nothing except +the knowledge that Harry was drunk when he wrote the +letters and drunk when he spoke the words, which is not +much comfort. Still, Raynham thinks she can be made +to settle out of court, especially if we take our time. We +have got to show her first that the world will not come to +an end because a Wimbourne has been mixed up with a +woman—which it won't. It will be a matter, Raynham +thinks, of $15,000 at least; probably more.</p> + +<p>"What is going to become of the boy? Have you any +influence over him? If not, who has? It is about time +somebody exerted some on him, other than bad. He has +much to fight against.</p> + +<p>Your aunt sends her love. Your affect. uncle,</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">James Wimbourne</span>.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>In spite of his fatigue and his disgust, James smiled as +he finished the letter. It was so characteristic of Uncle +James; the most conventional sentences, the ones that +seemed to mean least, really meant the most. "Your aunt +sends her love"; only a person who knew Uncle James +could appreciate the consciously suppressed humor of that +phrase. As if Aunt Cecilia were not in such a vortex of +conflicting emotions over the affair that such a conventional +message would not be as far from her as Bagdad! "He +has much to fight against"; Harry had much to fight +against; Uncle James knew what, and he knew that James +also knew. Connotative meanings like these more than +atoned for the unflinching frankness of certain other +phrases.</p> + +<p>On the whole, James felt better for having read the +letter, and opened Beatrice's with a lighter heart.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Dear James; (he read)</p> + +<p>Jack Trotwood has just been here and told me that +that unspeakable woman is actually going to sue Harry for +breach of promise. I tried to get him to tell more, but he<span class="pagenum">[128]</span> +said that that was all he had been able to get out of Harry. +It's too awful! You can imagine what a time I've been +through, seeing him at least once a week and not being +able to say a word about the whole business. I've had to +depend on Jack Trotwood for all my information, and +naturally he hasn't wanted to say much. Do you mean to +say Harry hasn't written you all this term? I cannot understand +it at all.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina seems quite cut up about it, and wishes +you were here. 'Tell James to come,' she said when I told +her I would write you. I must confess, though, that I +don't see what good you could do—now. Of course, terrible +as this suit is, it does relieve things in one way, at +least. Once we're quite sure it's merely money she's after, +it doesn't seem quite so bad. I even think it is better now +than it was early in the autumn, when we thought he was +actually fond of her.</p> + +<p>There is no other news to give you; as you can imagine, +we have not been thinking of much else. Poor Harry, how +sorry I am for him! How much I wish I could help him, +and how little I can do!</p> + +<p class="author1"> +As ever yours,</p> + +<p class="author smcap">Beatrice.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>This letter was less comforting than the other. Beatrice's +words seemed to James to carry a veiled reproach +with them; to implicate him much more closely in Harry's +disgrace than he had as yet thought of implicating himself. +"I don't see what good you could do—now;" "better +now than it was in the early autumn—" such sentences +could not but have their sting for the sensitive mind, and +James was sensitive when Harry was concerned, and even +more so when Beatrice was.</p> + +<p>Had he been negligent in regard to Harry? Oh, yes, +he was perfectly willing to admit that he had, now that he +came to think it over, though he would rather have had +anybody other than Beatrice point out the fact to him—and +that, doubtless, was because a comment from Beatrice +would have twice the force of the same comment uttered +by any one else. He had never really put himself out for +Harry in any way, since the days when England seemed +too far for him to venture to discover what the years were<span class="pagenum">[129]</span> +making of him. In the critical period of his senior and +Harry's sophomore year he had shown himself entirely incapable +of giving the friendship and sympathy and guidance +that were needed. Jack Trotwood, and not he himself, +had been Harry's best friend, in every sense of the +phrase, for three years and more. And after graduation, +he had come to Minneapolis.</p> + +<p>Then this degrading affair with the manicure. James +had heard of that first through Beatrice, for Harry's letters, +which had arrived at regular, though rather long, intervals, +had ceased abruptly in September, at the beginning +of the college year. That had been almost a relief +to James. Harry's letters had been calculated to widen +rather than bridge the gulf between them. They had been +amusing and always cleverly written. A letter written on +the previous Tap Day, dated conspicuously "Thursday, +May 18, 7 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>" (two hours after Harry had failed to +receive an election to any senior society) had been a perfect +masterpiece of omission. It ran pleasantly along on +the weather, the outward appearance of the university, +sundry little incidents of no importance or interest, the +economic condition of the country—everything except Tap +Day, himself, anything that would interest James. This +letter had irritated James beyond all expression, yet at +the same time he admired it for what it was worth, and +hated himself for admiring it.</p> + +<p>And so, as he was obliged to learn from other sources of +Harry's missing a senior society, so he was dependent on +others for all his information <i>in re</i> Myrtle Mowbray. In +October Beatrice had written him that Harry had been +seen much in the society of the woman, who conducted her +business in connection with a barber shop situated conveniently +for the patronage of the student body. Jack +Trotwood had also written, somewhat timidly, to the same +effect, evidently much perplexed about where his truest +duty to Harry lay. Apparently there had been motor +parties to neighboring country inns, more or less conspicuous +carryings-on in restaurants about town, and so +forth. Such tidings became more and more acute for a +month, and then ceased. There was reason for hoping that +the nonsense was all over. Then the thunderbolt of to-day.<span class="pagenum">[130]</span></p> + +<p>James had not really been much worried, before to-day. +He had caught a glimpse of "the Mowbray woman," as he +always thought of her, one day in the previous June, while +in New Haven for Commencement. He had been strolling +along Chapel Street with a group of classmates, and one +of them called his attention to a female form emerging +from a shop door, giving in a discreet undertone a brief +explanation of her celebrity, ending with a vivid word of +commendation—"Some fluff." James looked, and saw a +pretty face. It had been but a fraction of a second, and +the face was turned away from him; but it was enough +to leave quite a lasting impression on his mind—an impression +that had not been without its effect on his reception +of the news of Harry's infatuation. A pretty face! +Well, when all was said and done, Harry had not been the +first man of his acquaintance to become enamored of a +pretty face—and get over it. He did not approve of the +alleged infatuation; the thought of it gave him considerable +uneasiness. But, helped out by the impression, his +optimistic temperament had battled with the uneasiness +and in the end overcome it; prevented it, certainly, from +growing into anything like anxiety, anything that would +necessitate drastic and disturbing measures, such as pulling +up stakes, for instance, and hurrying New Haven-ward.... Oh, +how loathsomely lazy and indifferent he +had been, now that he looked back on it all!</p> + +<p>A pretty face! The memory of it was still sharply out-lined +on the back of James' brain and drove introspection +and self-recrimination into momentary abeyance. A clear, +slightly olive complexion, rising to a faint pink on the +cheeks—artificial? Not as he remembered it; there was no +suggestion of the chorus-girl—sharply-drawn eyebrows and +dark hair. Above, a hat of some sort; below, a suit, preferably +of dark blue serge. The impression had been recurrent +in James' mind during these past months; not +soon after it was received, in the summer; since then. +There was something irritating and tantalizing about this +circumstance; it was as though the impression had been +strengthened by a second view. Where had he seen that +face again, if at all? Yes, he had seen it, somewhere; he +was almost certain of it. He was absolutely certain of it; +he could remember everything—except the time and place. +Which after all were important adjuncts to definite recollection—!<span class="pagenum">[131]</span> +No, he would not laugh himself out of it; +he was sure. He would remember all about it some time +when he least expected it.</p> + +<p>He left it at that, and listlessly lay at full length watching +the fire and allowing his thoughts to wander from the +all-absorbing topic and its octopus-like ramifications. The +fire was fascinating to watch; he loved open fires and +wished they would have one in this room every evening. +It would be almost like a home to come back to, after work. +It was particularly pleasant to watch, like this, in an +otherwise dark room, as it cast its intermittent flare on +the walls and furniture. It brought out the rich warm +tones in the brown leather of the chairs and the oak of the +wainscot, and picked out small particles of gilt here and +there in the ceiling decoration, and set them twinkling back +in a cheerful, drowsy way. From the dim outside world +beyond the open door came occasional sounds of club life; +the distant clatter of crockery, the swish of a passing +elevator, a voice finding fault with a club servant. James +listened to them at first, in a half-amused, idle sort of +way; then gradually they faded from his consciousness +and he was aware of nothing but the fire and its flickering +yellow light.</p> + +<p>He watched the fire intently, absorbedly, with the lazy +concentration with which a tired brain often fastens itself +on some physical object, as though to crowd out other +thoughts clamoring for admittance. The fire was beginning +to burn low now, with flames that never rose more +than a few inches above the logs. Every few moments +a small quantity of half-burnt wood dropped off and fell +to the glowing bed of coals beneath, and the flames broke +out afresh in the place it fell from. James watched this +process with a growing sense of expectancy; he seemed to +be always waiting, waiting for the next fall; yet when the +next fall came he was still waiting.... Was it only the +fall of the coals that he was waiting for? It must be +something else, something that had nothing to do with +the fire at all; something much more important; something +that he longed not to have come, yet, and at the same +time wished were over.... He seemed now not to be lying +at full length, but sitting on the broad arm of a chair. +The fire-light's glow fell no longer on leather and oak, +but on old flowered chintz and mahogany.... Now he was<span class="pagenum">[132]</span> +sitting no longer; he was bending over—bending low over +something white; turning his ear so as to catch certain +words that some one was uttering in a whisper; words that +were indelibly burnt on his brain; words that were as inseparable +from his being as life....</p> + +<p>Then in an instant the room, the fire, everything vanished; +and in their place, filling his whole consciousness—that +face! He knew it perfectly now, exactly when, +where, all about it; no room for mistake or doubt any +more! He started upright on the couch; his whole world +seemed suddenly illumined by a blinding flash of light. +In another instant he was aware that somebody had turned +on the electric light, and of a face staring quizzically into +his. He heard a voice.</p> + +<p>"Hello, you all alone in here, Wimbourne? You must +be fond of the dark!—What are you looking so all-fired +pleased about, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—Laffan! How are you?... Nothing much; I +just thought of something, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Congratulations on your thoughts. I'm looking for +some one to dine with; I suppose you've eaten? It's +late—"</p> + +<p>"Whew—nearly eight! No, I've not eaten; shall we +go up together?"</p> + +<p>They started to leave the room, but James stopped abruptly +in the doorway, suddenly practical, master of himself, +of the whole situation.</p> + +<p>"I say, Laffan, you're a lawyer, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"I attempt to be."</p> + +<p>"Well, I want to consult you, professionally, if you'll +let me. Consider me a client! Now, what I want to know +is this; suppose a—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot, man—not on an empty stomach! Come along +upstairs; you can tell me all about it while you eat!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[133]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p class="h3">SARDOU</p> + +<p>About a week later James went to the head of his +firm, the classmate's father who had offered him his +position, and asked for a few days' leave of absence.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you go to Smith?" said his employer, +naming the head of the department in which James was +working.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think he'd let me off without your leave, sir."</p> + +<p>"Hm.... You must go, must you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I must. Indeed, I'm bound to say, sir, +that I shall go, leave or no leave."</p> + +<p>"Hm. Well, you can go; but if you take more than +half a week it'll have to come off your annual vacation."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir, I shan't need more than that," said +James and the interview was closed. No word was spoken +of the reason for James' departure. Jonathan McClellan, +founder and owner of the McClellan Automobile Company, +knew a thing or two beside how to run an automobile business. +He also read the papers.</p> + +<p>That was on a Thursday. In the course of the evening +James conducted an interview with his friend Laffan and +at midnight or thereabouts he took train for Chicago. He +proceeded next day to New York, and thence, on Saturday, +to New Haven, arriving there early in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>He went straight from the station to the law offices of +Messrs. Raynham and Rummidge and remained there upwards +of half an hour. Every sign of satisfaction was +visible on his face as he emerged, but Raynham, who escorted +him to the outer door, seemed not nearly so well +pleased.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd change your mind, even now, and leave +it to us," he said, just loud enough for the stenographer in +the outer office not to hear.</p> + +<p>"Plain enough sailing, now," replied James, smiling encouragingly. +"I don't think you need to worry."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you get into trouble, don't lose your head or<span class="pagenum">[134]</span> +your temper, or try to bluff. Just say you'll leave the rest +to your lawyers, and get out!"</p> + +<p>James proceeded up Chapel Street in excellent spirits. +A light snow was falling, melting on the pavements but +covering the grassy expanse of the Green with a soft white +blanket, and bringing each gaunt black branch of the elm +trees into strong relief. James walked on the Green side +of the street, so as to avoid the greetings of possible acquaintances, +and kept his eyes on the broad square. He +noticed that some elm trees had been clipped and others +felled since he had last been in town; he was sorry to see +them go and wished the authorities could find some way of +preserving them better....</p> + +<p>He walked unhesitatingly into the shop and, disregarding +the obsequious gestures of the line of barbers, went straight +to the very end, where he knew he would find her, with +her glass-topped table and her instruments and her disgusting +little basin.... She was there, but a broad black +back obtruded itself in front of her.</p> + +<p>"One moment," she said, looking up and smiling.</p> + +<p>James retreated a few steps to a row of chairs placed +there for the use of the expectant. He sat down, and cursed +himself for a fool. What business had he here? Why +hadn't he left it all to Raynham, like a sensible person? +He knew he would mess it all now, in spite of everything; +he remembered stories of commanders who had been ousted +out of impregnable positions by the mere confident attitude +of their opponents. It was her appearance, her manner, +her faultless smile, that unnerved him. It was, as he mentally +phrased it to himself, because she looked "so damned +refined." Never had he dreamed it would be as bad as +this.</p> + +<p>The black back shuffled inchoately out of his vision; his +moment had come. He walked forward.</p> + +<p>"You are Miss Mowbray, are you not?" he asked, speaking +slowly and steadying his voice with difficulty.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Wimbourne. I think you know my brother.... I +would like to talk to you, if I might. When will +you be at liberty?"</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't we talk right here?" she said cheerfully. +"If you'll sit down there.... You had better let +me tend to your nails—they need it."</p> + +<p>"Very well." James sat down. He felt his courage returning;<span class="pagenum">[135]</span> +her self-possession stimulated him. Not one +shadow of a change of expression had passed over her face +when he told her he was Harry's brother; her manner remained +the perfection of professional cordiality. Well, if +she could show nerve, he could, too.</p> + +<p>She filled her bowl with warm water and arranged her +instruments with perfect composure. When she was ready +James surrendered his right hand.</p> + +<p>"Miss Mowbray," he began at length, "as I understand +the matter, you are suing my brother for breach of promise. +Is that right?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry. It's a bad business. Bad for you as +well as for him, because you can't possibly win. Now, +Miss Mowbray, I will be frank with you. You are not going +to get that forty thousand dollars—your suit will not +even get into court. I know that, but I don't want to +have to go into the reasons why. I don't want scenes, I +hate them; I want to make this interview as easy and as +short as possible, so I will open it with an offer. I will +give you five hundred dollars if you will agree to withdraw +your suit and clear out of town, within a week. Do +you accept?"</p> + +<p>"I do not." Her smile was more than cordial now, there +was pity in it. "Why do you suppose I took the trouble to +sue for forty thousand dollars, if I would be content with +five hundred, Mr. Wimbourne?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, must we go into arguments? Why can't you +simply take my word for it that your suit is impossible, +and close with me? Five hundred dollars—think what it +means! It would pay all your costs and leave you enough +to start in with somewhere else."</p> + +<p>"The sum is just eighty times too small."</p> + +<p>"You won't, then? Think it over a little! I'll leave +the offer open for five minutes; you needn't answer definitely +till then."</p> + +<p>James was thoroughly sure of himself and at ease now; +he smiled to himself with a certain grim pleasure at his +little touch of melodrama, reminiscent of—what? Sardou? +A common trick, of course, but never without +its effect. He ceased thinking about it, and watched the +clock. Presently he was aware that his companion, always +busy with her scraping and cleaning and rubbing, was +speaking in a low, calm voice.<span class="pagenum">[136]</span></p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Wimbourne, I am not quite the fool you take +me for, I'm afraid. You may not know it, but your brother +has treated me very badly. He deserves to be punished. +A man cannot make a fool of a woman, as he has of me, +and get off scot free. There is such a thing as law and +justice for those that are abused, and I have been abused. +I should be very silly now if I did not go on and take all +that is coming to me. I shall only be taking my right, +Mr. Wimbourne; remember that. Fun is all very well if +it is innocent fun; but when it hurts other people it has to +be paid for."</p> + +<p>"The five minutes are up," said James; "but I will +willingly extend the time if there is any chance of your +reconsidering. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>No answer. James watched her calm face, with its +pleasing and well-chiseled features, enlivened now by only +the merest suggestion of a smile that was not really there, +but still seemed latent, ready for instant use if called upon. +About the mouth hung a shade of impatience, of obstinacy; +anything else? No, assuredly no, search as he would. She +was extraordinary!</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," he said with a gentle sigh, "you will go in +for all the unpleasantness, I'm afraid.... Miss Mowbray, +you have no right to sue my brother for breach of promise. +You have been acting under false pretenses to him from the +first. You were married to a man called Edward Jennings, +in the city of Minneapolis, on the 3rd of last September."</p> + +<p>"You have proofs, no doubt?" The tone was sharp +and defiant, the smile scornful and satirical, but she did +blench—no doubt of it. James' heart leaped within him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—lots, right here in my breast pocket. Tiresome +things, but lawyers love them. If you will release my right +hand for a moment—" He chose to smile ingratiatingly +at her, and it gave him a little thrill of revenge to observe +how obviously forced her answering smile was. She was +not proof against her own weapons. But his triumph faded +almost immediately, and pity took its place. Poor thing, +what a ridiculous game she had been playing! How could +it possibly succeed? Could she not have known that some +one who knew of her marriage would be sure to turn up at +the wrong moment and spoil the whole affair? She looked +so small, so defenseless, so crumpled as she sat there, waiting +for him to produce his proofs; surely she was never<span class="pagenum">[137]</span> +made for this sort of a career! Then her smiles of a little +while ago came back to him, and he reflected that perhaps +she was, after all.</p> + +<p>"First, here is a little history of your career. You were +born in Minneapolis, June 16, 188-. At the age of sixteen +you went to New York City, where you entered the +theatrical profession. For some years you were on the +vaudeville stage, playing occasionally in New York, but +mostly on the road. Your stage name was Rosa Montagu. +You left the profession about three years ago, and have +been engaged in this place as manicure for a little less than +two years. You resumed the name of Myrtle Mowbray, +which as far as I can make out is your own, on leaving the +stage, but you were married, last September, under your +stage name. Here is a copy of your marriage lines, sworn +to by the Minneapolis License Bureau. Here is a photograph +of you as Rosa Montagu...." +"Suppose you let me finish manicuring your hands, Mr. +Wimbourne." James replaced the papers in his pocket and +his hand on the glass-topped table, and professional duties +were resumed. They continued in silence for some time; +neither party really had much to say now. It occurred +to James that even now she might be trying to take him in +by her indifference, to "bluff" him; but a careful study +of her face dispelled the idea. He admired her nerve now +no less than before.</p> + +<p>"Are you satisfied, Miss Mowbray?" he asked at length.</p> + +<p>"No. I'm beaten, though." James liked the reply immensely; +liked, also, the manner in which it was given—hardly +betraying anything more than good-humored disgust.</p> + +<p>"When can I see you again to-day or to-morrow?" he +asked again after a short pause. "There will be papers +to sign, and that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible that Mr. Raynham sent you out without +a written statement for me to sign in your pocket?" she +rejoined, looking fearlessly up at him.</p> + +<p>"No—that is—yes, he did." Of course he had not, but +James was already planning a little <i>coup</i> of his own not +included in Mr. Raynham's arrangements.</p> + +<p>"Well, could you come back here this evening? Toward +ten? We close then, on Saturdays."</p> + +<p>"Very well."<span class="pagenum">[138]</span></p> + +<p>Both were silent for some time. At last, when the manicuring +was almost completed, James said with a sudden +burst of friendly curiosity:</p> + +<p>"Honestly, Miss Mowbray, why did you do it? Get married +to him first, I mean."</p> + +<p>She looked coldly up at him. "I really don't see why +I should answer that question, Mr. Wimbourne."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. There's not the slightest reason why +you should answer it, if you don't want to."</p> + +<p>She was not proof against his candor or his smile. She +smiled back, in spite of herself, without rancor or affectation.</p> + +<p>"I have an idea that you are quite an unusual young +man, Mr. Wimbourne. You are, without doubt, the worst +enemy I have in the world, and yet you give me the impression +of being a friend. I think I like you better than +your brother."</p> + +<p>James made no reply to this, but only reddened slightly, +and she went on:</p> + +<p>"I married him because I lacked the courage not to. I +was afraid to burn my bridges behind me. He had been +wanting me to for a long time, and at the last he became very +impatient.... It was the only way I could keep him, and +I dared not let him go. Things had not been going well +here.... So I went back and married him, on condition +that it was to be kept an absolute secret. I was determined +to come out here and try my luck for one more +year.... Of course I was very sorry that I did it, this +fall. But I determined to go through with ... the business, +for there was a big prize at stake."</p> + +<p>"And you never knew he had a brother in Minneapolis?"</p> + +<p>"No—he simply told me he had an elder brother in the +West. I had no suspicion of anything; it seemed perfectly +safe. How did you find out, anyway, if I may ask?"</p> + +<p>"I happened to see you—perhaps a minute after you +were married, coming out of the marriage license office, +with a man. Compromising! You had been pointed out +to me before, here, so I knew what you looked like. But +what made you so keen to go through with—with the business? +You don't look like that kind, somehow...."</p> + +<p>She gave the last finishing touch to his hand and started +to gather up her belongings before replying. "You don't +know what it is not to have plenty of money, Mr. Wimbourne,<span class="pagenum">[139]</span> +or you would not ask that question. You don't +know what it is to watch other people sailing by in sixty +horsepower limousines and realize that you would look every +bit as well there as any of them, and better than most, and +to realize, above all, that you could make so much more +out of your wealth than most of them. I am under no delusions +about myself; I know perfectly well that I'm not a +manicure type. I have brains, I have good looks, I have +social possibilities. Only, I happened to be born without +money or social position, and the handicap is too great.... Well, +it's all up now. There's no hope for anything +better now."</p> + +<p>The tone in which she spoke these words was so perfectly +quiet and resigned, so utterly lacking in vulgar desire to +advertise her woes, that James felt deeply moved. He +could not think of anything to say to reassure or encourage +her. Presently he blurted out, desperately:</p> + +<p>"You've got a good husband in Edward Jennings, anyway. +He's a good chap, according to all accounts...."</p> + +<p>She smiled, deprecatorily. "He's a nice boy. But he'll +never make any money."</p> + +<p>James made up an excuse to consult Mr. Raynham again, +and after that walked the snow-covered streets till dinner +time. His first impulse was to look up Harry, but he discarded +the idea; he would not see him, Aunt Selina, any +one, till his task was done, every detail completed. He +dined alone in an obscure restaurant and with some difficulty +succeeded in frittering away the time till ten o'clock, +at which hour he returned to the barber shop on Chapel +Street.</p> + +<p>He proceeded at once to business, taking out two papers +which he gave to Miss Mowbray to sign. She read and +signed without comment. When she had finished he said: +"Would you mind delivering this for me?" and handed her +an unsealed envelope bearing the simple superscription +"Mr. Edward Jennings."</p> + +<p>Miss Mowbray fingered the envelope indecisively a moment; +then she opened it and took out the contents.</p> + +<p>She rose from her seat and glanced apprehensively at +James. "I can't—we—thank you, but I simply can't accept +this," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Nobody asked you to do anything, except deliver the +letter," replied James cheerfully. "I'd like to know what<span class="pagenum">[140]</span> +business you have opening other people's letters, anyway. +It isn't nice.—Wedding present, you know," he went on, +with a change of voice; "I'm rather hoping to have the +honor of giving you your first. Please try to make him accept +it from me, won't you? Good-by!"</p> + +<p>He shook her hand quickly and was actually off before +she had time to offer another word of objection.</p> + +<p>He made his way straight across the snowy street to +Harry's rooms in Vanderbilt Hall. There was no answer +to his knock, but the door yielded to a turn of the knob—how +like Harry to leave it unlocked! The room was dark +and empty, but he went in and found the embers of a fire +dying on the hearth. He threw off his hat and overcoat, +struck a light and looked about for materials with which +to rebuild the fire.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the logs were blazing merrily before +him. He turned out the gas, drew up an armchair and +sat down in front of the fire to wait for Harry.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[141]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p class="h3">UN-ANGLO-SAXON</p> + +<p>He came in before long, stamping the snow from his +boots. In the second or two that passed before he +spoke, James saw that though he looked haggard and depressed, +there was no trace of weakness of dissipation about +his eyes or mouth. Nor did he slink; he blundered in with +the impetuosity of a schoolboy for whom the world has no +terrors. For which, though he was shocked to see how +badly he looked, James was profoundly thankful.</p> + +<p>He was aware of Harry's eyes trying to pierce the half-gloom; +there was a touch of pathos, to James, in his momentary +bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Harry," he said gently.</p> + +<p>"James!" The immediate, unconscious look of delight +that came over Harry's face—even though it faded to +something else within the second—pleased James more than +anything had pleased him yet. Harry was glad to see him; +that mattered much more than his almost instant recovery +of his self-possession, his continuing, in the manner of the +Harry of two years ago, the Harry of the previous Commencement: +"Whatever are you doing here now, James?"</p> + +<p>"I've got good news for you, Harry," he replied, rising +and taking hold of the other's hand. "The Mowbray +woman has withdrawn her suit. It's all right; she's signed +things, and you have no more to fear from her." He +dropped Harry's hand and moved off a step, as though to +give him a chance to take in the news.</p> + +<p>There was something rather fine in the simplicity, the +humility, even of his manner as he did this, that did not +escape Harry. He was deeply moved; self-possession and +all it implied fell from him again.</p> + +<p>"James, have you done this? What has happened? +Tell me all about it! You haven't paid her all that money, +James—don't tell me you've done that!"</p> + +<p>"No, of course I haven't—there was no need for it. She<span class="pagenum">[142]</span> +was married out in Minneapolis last September, and I happened +to get onto the fact—that's all. She had no business +to be suing at all."</p> + +<p>"And you—"</p> + +<p>"I came here and told her so, to-day."</p> + +<p>James sat down again where he had been sitting, as +though to close the incident. Harry stood and gasped; +he tried to speak but could not; his eyes filled with tears. +Then he dropped at James' feet, clasping his knees in the +manner of a suppliant of old. He buried his face in James' +lap and gave a few deep sobs of joy and relief.</p> + +<p>The Anglo-Saxon race being what it is, a good deal of +courage is needed to go on with the relation of what occurred +next. However, there is no help for it; history is +history, and we can only tell it as it actually occurred, regardless +of whether the undemonstrative are outraged or +not. After Harry had thrown himself at his feet James +took his brother's head gently between his hands, and then, +with the greatest simplicity and naturalness in the world, +bent forward and kissed it.</p> + +<p>"Poor old thing," he said softly; "you have been having +sort of a hard time of it, haven't you?"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"I wish you would tell me, James," said Harry somewhat +later, as they sat gazing into the fire, James in the +armchair and Harry on the floor, leaning back against +James' legs, "I wish you would tell me just how you found +out about her being married, and all about it. It seems +so incredible—both that she should have been married and +that you, of all people, should have been on the spot to discover +it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I just saw her, coming out of the marriage office +with a man; that was all there was to it. I thought she +probably wouldn't have been there unless she had just been +married to him, so I had the register looked up, and there +she was. She was under the name of Rosa Montagu—that +gave us some trouble at first, because of course I didn't +know that was her stage name. I put a fellow called Laffan, +a young lawyer, onto the business, and he messed about +with the register and the detective bureau and communicated +with Raynham till he wormed it all out. Finally he +got hold of a photograph of Rosa Montagu and showed it +to me, and after that it was easy enough—Of course, it<span class="pagenum">[143]</span> +was a most God-given chance that I stumbled on her just +at that compromising moment. She really wasn't as foolish +as she sounds; she hadn't lived in Minneapolis for years +and knew almost nobody there except her young man. It +was a long chance, what with using her stage name and all, +that any one would ever find her out."</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I don't quite see—You say she was married +in September?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—the third."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you knew she was married then, I don't quite +see why you didn't make use of your knowledge before. +When I was playing round with her, I mean—of course I, +like the brazen idiot I was, didn't write you, but you must +have heard—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Well, it was a very funny thing. I didn't +remember about having seen her in that place till months +afterward; not till the night I heard about the breach of +promise business. You see, it was only the barest, vaguest +glimpse, there in the City Hall; she didn't even see me and +I didn't even remember where I had seen her face before, +then. I scarcely thought about it at all, at the time; I +was in a great hurry to get to a hearing before some commission +or other, and the thing went bang out of my mind. +Then, when I read of the breach of promise, it all came +back, in one flash! Funny!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's the kind of humor that appeals to me, I +can tell you."</p> + +<p>"The man, Jennings, curiously enough, happened to be +in McClellan's for a while, once, in the counting department. +He left there to become a clerk in some bank. We +worked up his end too, a little....</p> + +<p>"Harry, I wish you'd tell me one thing," went on James, +after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Anything I can, James."</p> + +<p>"Why on earth, when you found you were getting in +deep with that woman, didn't you call on me to do something? +You couldn't be so far gone as to think that I +wouldn't—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, couldn't I? You have no idea of what depths of +idiocy I can descend to, if I want.—I don't know—at +the time, the more I wanted help the less I could talk of +it to any one, and you least of all. The person that gave +me the most comfort was Trotty, and he never once mentioned<span class="pagenum">[144]</span> +the subject to me, except when I introduced it myself! +Yet even so, all through that time, it was you that I +really wanted.—Look here, James, if you don't believe +me, see what I've been carrying around with me all this +time, as a sort of talisman!"</p> + +<p>He took his wallet from his pocket and after a short +search produced an old and dirty postal card bearing on +its face the blurred but still readable legend "All right. +James." He handed it to his brother.</p> + +<p>"Gosh," said James, when he had read it, "do you mean +to say you've kept that old thing ever since?"</p> + +<p>"Ever since the day I got it. There was something about +it that was comforting and optimistic and—well, like you; +and I used to take it out and look at it occasionally when +I got particularly down in the mouth. And I used to +persuade myself, after a while, that it all would come out +right, in the end; that somehow James would make it all +right—you see how the prophecy has come true!... And +the extraordinary part of it is that even while I thought +that way about you, I simply couldn't break the ice and tell +you about it all. I don't know why—I just couldn't!"</p> + +<p>"I know," said James; "I know the feeling."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it incredible, James, that what seemed perfectly +natural and reasonable—inevitable, even—a few weeks, or +days, or even an hour ago, should appear so utterly asinine +now!... Pride, vainglory and hypocrisy—all of them, +and a lot more! Sometimes I can't believe it possible for +one person to assemble in himself all the vices that I +do."</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't, either," said James seriously. "That's +one thing I want to clear up. Harry, don't you see that +the blame for all this lies with me just as much as with you—more +than with you—entirely with me?—"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," began Harry stoutly, but James continued:</p> + +<p>"And that the real reason you didn't call on me was because +I had steadily shut myself away from you? Oh, +Harry, I've behaved like the devil during the last three +years! It's just as you say; a course of action you never +even question at one time, a little later seems so silly, so +criminally silly, that you can't believe you seriously thought +of following it!... I know perfectly well that a lot of +the things I thought were horribly important a few years +ago really aren't worth the paper they're printed on.<span class="pagenum">[145]</span> +The perspective changes so, even with these two years—less +than two years—out of college! Good Lord, if a +man is really the right sort, if he has a good, warm-hearted +nature at the bottom of him, thinks good thoughts, +does nice things, uses to the best of his judgment what gifts +and talents Providence is pleased to give him, what in +Heaven's name does it matter whether he manages the crew +or goes Bones, in the end?... I've been a fool, Harry. +I've set the greatest value on the most worthless things; +I've worshiped stone gods; I've let things irritate me +that no sane man has any business to be irritated by. +Worst of all, I've let these silly, worthless things come between +you and me and spoil—well, one of the best things +that ever came into my life!... All this estrangement +business has been mainly my fault. I'm older, and have +had more experience, and, I always thought, more common +sense—though I haven't really—and I was the one that +ought to have kept things straight. Harry, I'm sorry +for it all!"</p> + +<p>Harry was more moved than he would have liked to +show by this confession. He was still enough of an undergraduate +to be much impressed by his brother's casual +mention of his senior society—the first time since he had +been tapped the name had ever passed James' lips in his +presence.</p> + +<p>"It's a pleasure to hear you talk, James," he said, "but +I hope you won't misunderstand me when I say that there's +not one word of truth in all you've said—the last part of +it, I mean. It's only convinced me more thoroughly of my +own fault. Before, there might have been a shadow of +doubt in my mind about my being entirely to blame. Now +there is absolutely none.—Funny, that a person you like +blaming himself should really be blaming you! It always +seems that way, somehow...."</p> + +<p>"James," he went on, a little later; "it makes you feel +as if you were getting on, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"How? In years?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! I don't know about you, but I feel as old as +Methusaleh to-night, and a whole lot wiser! And I must +say I rather enjoy it!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James reflectively, "it does seem a good +deal that way."</p> + +<p>"There are lots of questions you haven't asked me yet, +James," continued Harry, after another interval.<span class="pagenum">[146]</span></p> + +<p>"Are there? Well, tell me what they are and I'll ask +them, if you're so crazy to answer them."</p> + +<p>"The first is, What on earth could you ever have seen +in That Woman?"</p> + +<p>"There was no need to ask that question," replied James, +laughing; "not after I saw her to-day, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"She was so damned refined," sighed Harry. James +laughed again at the coincidence of Harry's hitting on the +very words of his own mental description of her. "I was +most horribly depressed, and she looked so kind and sympathetic, +and was, too, when I got to telling her my +woes.... And she never used a particle of rouge, or anything +of that kind.... Once I kissed her, and after that +she managed, in that diabolical refined manner of hers, to +convince me that she wouldn't have any more of that sort +of thing without marriage. That made me respect her +all the more, of course, as she knew it would. At one +time, for a whole week, I should say, I was perfectly willing +to marry her, whenever she wanted, and I didn't care +whom I said it to, either.... Do you know, James, she +would have been in for the devil of a time if I had gone on +and pressed her to? I wonder what little plans she had +for making me cease to care for her and back out at the +right time.... There was no need for that, though; one +day she called me 'kid,' and things like that before people, +and I began to see."</p> + +<p>"That was part of her little plan, of course," said James.</p> + +<p>"Well, well—I shouldn't wonder if it was! You always +were a clever child, James!..."</p> + +<p>"What are some more of the things I've got to ask?" +inquired the clever child after a brief silence.</p> + +<p>"What? Oh—yes! Why don't you ask me to cut out +the lick?" (He meant, abstain from alcoholic beverages.)</p> + +<p>"Well, do you want me to?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I think I do, rather!"</p> + +<p>"Well, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Well—yes!"</p> + +<p>Both laughed, and then Harry went on: "It strikes +me that we are both talking a prodigious lot of nonsense, +James. We've been making a regular scene, in fact—"</p> + +<p>"I rather like scenes, myself," interrupted James, just +for the pleasure of their being how he had expressed exactly +the opposite opinion to some one else a few hours before.<span class="pagenum">[147]</span></p> + +<p>"And no doubt we shall be heartily ashamed when we +look back on it all in the cold gray light of to-morrow morning. +One always is."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," objected James, serious again, "I don't +think that I shall be sorry for anything I've said or done."</p> + +<p>"Well, as a matter of strict truth, I don't know that I +shall either. I suppose one needn't necessarily be making +a fool of oneself just because it's twelve o'clock at night; +that is—oh, you know what I mean—!"</p> + +<p>So they sat and talked on far into the night, loath to +break up the enjoyment of the rediscovery of each other. +They both seemed to bask in a sort of wonderful clarity and +peace—do you know these rare times when life loses its +complexity and uncertainty and becomes for the moment +wholly sane and enjoyable and inspiring? When a person +is actually able to live, if only for a little time, entirely +in his better self, without being troubled by even a recollection +of his worser? That was, substantially, the condition +of those two boys as they sat there, at first talking, +then thinking, and at last, as drowsiness slowly asserted +itself over them, simply sitting.</p> + +<p>"Well," said James at last; "unless you intend taking +permanent possession of my legs, I suppose we'd better go +to bed. Am I sleeping here, somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry; "in my bed; I shall sleep on the +sofa," and he forthwith embarked on a search for extra +sheets and blankets.</p> + +<p>They both slept uninterruptedly till nearly ten, at which +hour they sallied forth in search of breakfast. During the +night the snow had changed to rain, which still fell out of +a leaden sky, turning the earth's white covering to dirty +gray and clogging the gutters with slush. Everything +looked sordid, prosaic, ugly, especially Chapel Street, which +they crossed on their way to the nearest "dog"; especially +the "dog" itself as they approached it, with its yellow +electric lights still shining out of its windows. It was an +unattractive world.</p> + +<p>"Well, how does it look this morning?" James asked, +studying his brother's face.</p> + +<p>Harry shuffled along several steps through the slush before +he answered:</p> + +<p>"Just the same, James, and I for one, don't mind saying +so." Then they looked at each other and smiled +slightly.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[148]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p class="h3">CHIEFLY CARDIAC</p> + +<p>Life appeared, nevertheless, to have recovered all its +normal complexity and variety. Things change with +the return of daylight, even if they do not deteriorate, and +though the two boys were still, in a manner of speaking, +happy in each other's proximity, the thoughts of each were +already busy on matters in which the other had no direct +share. Harry was already foreseeing unpleasantnesses in +the way of the restoration of cordial relations with the +world. Exile has its palliations; he had taken a sort of +grim pleasure in the state of semi-warfare in which he had +lived. But that sort of thing was now over; he wanted to +be right with the whole world—he even looked forward to +astonishing people with the thoroughness of his conservatism. +And he would have to make all the first advances. +Thoughts of apologies, unreciprocated nods, suppressed +sneers, incredulous glances and all the rest did not dismay +him, but they might be said to bother him. At least, they +were there.</p> + +<p>As for James, he had thought so much about Harry during +the last ten days that it is easy to understand why, the +affair Harry having been satisfactorily cleared up, his mind +should be busy with other things. James' control over +his mind was singularly perfect and methodical; its ease +of concentration suggested that of an experienced lawyer +examining the contents of several scraps of papers and +returning each one again to its proper pigeon-hole, neatly +docketed. The papers bearing the label of "Harry," +neatly tied up in red tape, were again reposing comfortably +in their pigeon-hole; the bundle that now absorbed his attention +was marked "Beatrice."</p> + +<p>Outside of his work, to which he had conscientiously +devoted the best of his mental powers, Beatrice had occupied +the most prominent place in his thoughts for over a +year and a half. For six days in the week, between the<span class="pagenum">[149]</span> +hours of nine and five, she had not been conspicuous in his +mind; but how often, outside that time, had his attention +wandered from a book, a conversation, a play, and fastened +itself on the recollection of that softly aquiline profile of +hers, the poise of her head on her beautifully modeled +shoulders, her unsmiling yet cordial manner of greeting, +and which she somehow managed to convey the impression +of being unaffectedly glad to see him! It would probably +be too much to say that James had been in love with her +during that time, but James was not the sort of person who +would easily be carried off his feet in an affair of the +heart. Often, as the memory of her face obtruded itself on +his day-dreams—or still oftener, his night-dreams—he had +calmly put to himself, for open mental debate, the question +"Am I really in love with her?" and had never been +able to answer it entirely satisfactorily.</p> + +<p>On the whole, in view of the fact that the memory of her +showed no tendency to fade in proportion to the time he +was absent from her presence, he had become rather inclined +to the opinion that the answer must be in the affirmative. +Yet even now he could not be sure. He might be only cherishing +an agreeable memory. He had not seen her since +the previous June, and could not be absolutely certain, he +knew, till he saw her again. He was anxious to see her!—Not +that mere friendship would not account for that, of +course.</p> + +<p>Harry had to attend Sunday Chapel, and it was arranged +that James should not go with him, but should proceed +directly to the house. Harry himself would turn up +at dinner-time—Aunt Selina, it will be remembered, had +dinner in the middle of the day on Sundays. Harry was +naturally anxious to have all news-breaking over before he +came, and James—well, on the whole James was entirely +willing to take the burden of news-breaking on himself.</p> + +<p>He found Aunt Selina at home; a slight cold in the +head and the inclemency of the weather had been sufficient +to make her forego church for this Sunday. Beatrice had +proved herself of stauncher religious metal—"Though I +am sure she would not have gone, if she had known you +were in town," as Aunt Selina told James.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina took the good news much as a duchess of +the old régime might have learned that the Committee of +Public Safety had decided not to chop off her husband's<span class="pagenum">[150]</span> +head. It was agreeable news, but it was nothing to make +one forget oneself. Her manner of saying "This is splendid +news, James; I am proud of you" indicated a profound belief +in the sanctity of the Wimbourne destiny and an unshakable +faith in the ultimate triumph of the Wimbourne +character rather than unbecoming thankfulness for something +she ought not to have had to be thankful about. +James advised her that Harry would talk much more freely +and relations in general would be much more agreeable if +she refrained from mention of the subject till he introduced +it himself. Aunt Selina calmly agreed. She had +great faith in James' judgment.</p> + +<p>After an hour's chat with his aunt James exhibited visible +signs of restlessness. Half-past twelve; it was time +Beatrice returned. He rose from his chair and stood watching +in front of the window. Soon he saw her; she alighted +from a trolley car and started to walk up the path. There +was something rather fine, something high-bred and gently +proud about the way she grasped her umbrella and embarked +on the long slushy ascent to the house. Her manner +rather suggested a daughter of the Crusaders; it was as +though she hated the wind and rain and slush, but disdained +to give other recognition of their existence than a +silent contempt.</p> + +<p>As he beheld her distant figure turn in at the gate and +plod unflinchingly up the walk a curious sensation came +over James. He suddenly found himself wanting to wreak +an immediate and violent vengeance on the elements that +dared to make things so unpleasant for her, and that almost +immediately passed into an intense desire to seize +upon that small figure and clasp it to him, sheltering her +from the rain, the wind, the slush, every evil in this world +that could ever befall her.... In that moment he felt all +the beauty of man's first love. All the worries of doubt +and introspection fell from him; he felt the full glow of +love shining in his heart like a star, giving significance, +sanctity, even, to those moments of wondering, fearing, hoping, +doubting that had filled so many months. He was in +love with her!... He came into the realization of the +fact in a spirit of humility and prayer, like a worshiper +entering a temple.</p> + +<p>Of course he gave no outward sign of all this. He<span class="pagenum">[151]</span> +merely said, as soon as he could trust himself to be +articulate, in a perfectly ordinary tone of voice:</p> + +<p>"There's Beatrice, now. She's walking."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered his aunt; "I tried to make her stay +at home, but she would go." Then after a moment she +gently added, as though in answer to James' unspoken reproach: +"I would have let her take the carriage, but of +course I could not ask Thomas to go out in such weather."</p> + +<p>James entirely failed to see why not. He would willingly +have condemned Thomas and the horses to perpetual driving +through something much more disagreeable than rain +and slush if it could have saved Beatrice one particle of her +present discomfort.</p> + +<p>But being, in fact as well as in appearance, a daughter of +Crusaders, and consequently well used to climatic rigors +in the country from which her ancestors had marched to +meet the Paynim foe, Beatrice was really not suffering +nearly as much as James' lover-like anxiety supposed her +to be. She had thick boots, a mackintosh, an umbrella and +a thick tweed skirt to protect her from the weather, and +could have walked miles without so much as wetting her +feet. If she had got wet, she certainly would have changed +her garments immediately on reaching home, and even +if she had not changed then she probably would not have +caught cold, having a strong constitution. Nevertheless +James stood at the window and silently worried about her, +and his first words as he met her at the front door were +expressive of this mood.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice!" he cried eagerly, as he threw the door open, +"I do hope you're not wet through!"</p> + +<p>She had not seen him standing at the window, so his appearance +at the door was consequently a complete surprise +to her, and the expression that came over her face as she +saw him was one of pure pleasure. James' heart leaped +within him at her unaccustomed smile, and then fell again +as he saw it change to an expression of ever so slight and +well-restrained surprise, not at his being there, but at the +manner and words of his greeting. He realized in a second +that he had allowed his tongue to betray his heart.</p> + +<p>Beatrice paid no immediate attention to the remark, and +her welcoming words "James, of all people in the world!" +gave no sign of anything more than a friendly pleasure.<span class="pagenum">[152]</span> +She was entirely at her ease. James found himself running +on, quite easily:</p> + +<p>"Yes—just got a day or two off and came on to say +Howdy-do to you all. Got to start back this afternoon, +worse luck. How well you're looking!"</p> + +<p>By this time they were practically in the library, in the +restraining presence of Aunt Selina, and Beatrice had no +more chance to introduce the topic clamoring for discussion +in the minds of both than the question "You've seen +Harry?" uttered in an undertone as they went through +the door, allowed her. Church, the weather and the unexpected +pleasure of James' arrival were politely discussed +for a few moments, and then Aunt Selina withdrew to prepare +for dinner.</p> + +<p>"James," Beatrice burst out, "tell me about Harry. +I know you've come on about that; tell me all about it! +Has anything been done? Can anything be done?"</p> + +<p>"It can," said James, smiling at her impetuosity. "Like-wise, +it has. In fact, it's all over!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?... Have you paid her off?"</p> + +<p>"No; she withdrew of her own accord."</p> + +<p>"James, don't be irritating! Tell me about it. You've +done something, I know you have!"</p> + +<p>"Well—possibly!" He smiled tantalizingly at her—so +like a man!</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you—on one condition."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"That you'll promise not to thank me when you've +found out!" James considered this rather a masterly +piece of deceptive strategy, more than making up for his +indiscretion at the front door.</p> + +<p>Beatrice dropped her eyes and drew down the corners of +her mouth, with an expression half humorous, half contemptuous. +"Go ahead," said she.</p> + +<p>James went ahead and told her the whole affair at some +length. His position during this narrative was a not unenviable +one; it is not often that one gets a chance to recount +to one's lady-love a story in which one is so obviously +the hero. Nor did he lose anything by being the narrator +of his own prowess; his omissions spoke louder in his favor +than the most laudatory comments of a third person could +have.<span class="pagenum">[153]</span></p> + +<p>"So, he is free!" she said at last, when she had cross-questioned +the whole thing out of him. "He is free +again!..."</p> + +<p>What was there about these words that seemed to blast +James' feeling of triumph, to chill the very marrow in his +bones? Was it only the words; was it not rather the +extraordinary intensity of the pleasure on her face; a pleasure +which did not fade with her smile, but lived on in the +dreamy expression of the eyes, gazing sightlessly out of the +window?... She spoke again in a moment or two, asking +a question about some detail in the case, and the feeling +left him again. He answered her question with perfect +composure. Such hysterical vapors must be incidental +to love, he supposed. He was not troubled about it at all, +unless, very vaguely, by the fleeting memory of a similar +experience, occurring—oh, a long time ago. Nothing to +worry about.</p> + +<p>He did not say much after he had completed his narrative. +He was content simply to sit and look at her, drinking +in her smiles, her comments, her little ejaculations of +pleasure and answering her stray questions about the great +affair. The joy of discovery was not yet even tinged with +the thirst for possession. It was enough to watch her as +she talked and laughed and moved about; to watch her, the +living original, and think how much more glorious she was +than the most vivid of his recollections of her. Oh, how +wonderful she was!</p> + +<p>Presently he was aware of her making remarks laudatory +of himself, and primed his ears to listen.</p> + +<p>"But how clever it was of you, James," she was saying, +"to work out the whole thing, just from that one little +glimpse—and so quickly, too! Of course it was just a +Heaven-sent chance, your seeing her at that moment, but +I can see how much more there was to it than that. What a +frightfully clever person you are, James—a regular detective! +You really must give up making motor cars and +be another Sherlock Holmes!"</p> + +<p>All this fell very pleasantly on his ears, though he could +have wished, if he had taken the time to, that she could +have employed some other adjective than "clever." But +there was no time for such minor considerations. Just at +that moment they heard the rattle of the front door latch, +and Beatrice, knowing that none but Harry ever entered<span class="pagenum">[154]</span> +the house without first ringing, jumped from her chair and +started towards the hall, the words "There he is now!" +glowing on her lips....</p> + +<p>And then the universe crumbled about James' ears. Had +his father's early readings extended into the minor Elizabethan +Drama, he might have remembered the words of +Beaumont—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stark affrighted motion in my blood<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and applied them quite aptly to his present state. For a +moment the earth literally seemed to reel; he staggered +slightly, unnoticed, and caught hold of the back of a chair. +Then, while Beatrice went out to meet Harry, he stood +there and wished he had never been born to live through +such a moment.</p> + +<p>Beatrice was in love with Harry—that was the long and +the short of it. There was no mistaking the import of +the look of utter glorification that came over her face as she +heard his hand on the doorknob; such an expression on the +face of a human being could mean but one thing.... He +wondered, despairingly, if his face had borne such a look +a little while ago, when he caught sight of Beatrice....</p> + +<p>Whether or not Harry was on similar terms with Beatrice +he could not say. He rather thought that he was, or if +not, it was only a question of time till he would be. He +was not a witness of the actual moment of meeting; that +occurred in the hall, and all he got of it was Harry's initial +remark: "Well, Beatrice, have you heard the good news? +James has made a respectable woman of me!" drowned in +a sort of flutter from Beatrice, in which he could distinguish +nothing articulate—nor needed to. The character of the +remark—flippant to the verge of good taste!—might at another +time have excited his disgust; but now it made as little +impression on him as it did on Beatrice.</p> + +<p>Harry himself might not have made it at another time; +it was the result of his embarrassment. So, also, was the +expression which he wore when he came into the room with +Beatrice a moment later—a very unusual look, due to a +very unusual cause. Beatrice had, in fact, all but given +herself away to him. He followed her into the room embarrassed +and flustered. It was incomparably the worst of +the series of strained moments in his intercourse with Beatrice,<span class="pagenum">[155]</span> +and it gave point and coherency to the others in a +way he hated to think of.... Once in the library he found +himself leading conversation, or what passed for conversation +among the three for the next few moments. The +others appeared conversationally extinct; Beatrice—he +hardly dared look toward her—trying to recover her composure; +James preternaturally grave and silent, for some +unknown reason. The atmosphere seemed surcharged with +an unexpected and, to him, inappropriate gravity. He felt +like a schoolboy among grown-ups.</p> + +<p>Presently Aunt Selina returned and dinner was announced.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Poor James—he had won Paradise only to lose it the +next instant! No one could have guessed anything from +his behavior—he was not the sort of person to make an +exhibition of his emotional crises; but he really lived very +hard during the meal that followed. His state of mind +was at first nothing but a ghastly chaos, from which but +one thing emerged into certainty—he must not betray himself +or Beatrice; he must go on exactly as if nothing unusual +had occurred. It never paid to make a fool of oneself, +and—this was the next thought, the next plank that +floated to him from the wreck of his happiness—he had +not, that he knew of, given himself away. That was a +tremendous thing to be thankful for; what a blessing that +he had got wind of Beatrice's true feelings before he had +the chance to blunder into making love to her and so +precipitate a series of horrors which he could not even +bear to contemplate! Now, he told himself reassuringly, +as he tried desperately to contribute his fourth to the none +too spontaneous conversation, he had only to keep himself +in check, keep his mouth shut, keep from making of +himself the most unthinkable ass that ever walked God's +earth—and it would all come out right!</p> + +<p>By the time the roast beef made its appearance he saw +there was only one thing to do and without a moment's +hesitation he embarked on the doing of it. Beatrice sat +on his right; he raised his eyes to her and passed them over +each enthralling feature of her, her soft dark hair; her +eyes, brown almost to black, gentle yet fearless in their +gaze, and at the same time, quite calmly and unemotionally, +told himself that she could never be his. She was Harry's.<span class="pagenum">[156]</span> +These two were intended for each other all along, made for +each other. Could he not have seen that in the beginning, +if he had kept his eyes open? Could he not have seen that +their childish companionship, dating from Harry's English +days, their being placed again, as though by a divine sort +of accident, in the same town, and above all their obvious +fitness for each other, was going to lead to love?</p> + +<p>Well—thus he found himself to his one substantial comfortable +support—he had hurt no one but himself. He +had only to put Beatrice resolutely out of his mind and all +would be well. She was Harry's; was that not the next +best thing to her being his?—better, even? No longer ago +than last night he had convinced himself that Harry was, +when all was said and done, a better man than he was. +Was it not perfectly just that the prize should go to him?</p> + +<p>The thought helped him through the meal astonishingly. +Unselfishness is a great stimulus. Once he saw that he +could do something definite toward the happiness of those +he loved best, he seemed, rather to his own surprise, perfectly +willing and able to do it, at no matter what sacrifice +to himself. His righteousness supported him not only +through the meal, but well through that part of the afternoon +that he spent in the house—up, indeed, to the very +moment of parting.</p> + +<p>James' plan was to take a five-o'clock train to New York, +whence he would take a night train to Chicago and arrive +in Minneapolis early Tuesday morning, having missed only +three working days at the office. It was still raining at +four o'clock and a cab was telephoned for. As it was +plodding up the slushy drive, James, overcoated and hatted, +stood on the porch ready to get into it. Harry, who was to +go to the station with him, was "having a word" with Aunt +Selina—or, more exactly, being had a word with by her—in +the hall. Beatrice, by some fiendish chance, determined +to do the same by James.</p> + +<p>"James," she said, "I want you to know how perfectly +splendid I think it was of you—all this about Harry, I +mean. You may say it was no more than your duty, and +all that; but it was fine of you, nevertheless. Thank you, +James, and good-by."</p> + +<p>It really was rather awful. It amounted to his being +rewarded and dismissed like a faithful servant. And her +tacit, unconscious assumption of her right to thank people<span class="pagenum">[157]</span> +for favors conferred upon Harry—that was turning the +knife in the wound. Of course she could have no idea of +the pain she was giving, and James shook her hand and +said good-by trying to give no sign of the pain he felt. +All the comfortable stability of his logic faded from him +as she spoke those words. All the way to the station, sitting +by Harry's side in the smelly cab, he found himself +crying inwardly, like a child, for what he could not have; +wondering if, by the exercise of tact and patience, Beatrice +could possibly be brought to love him; overcome at moments +by an insane desire to throw himself on Harry's +neck and beg him to let him have her—for surely, surely +Harry could not be as fond of her as he! Oh, was it going +to be as hard as this right along?...</p> + +<p>"James," said Harry suddenly as the two paced the +dreary platform in silence, waiting for the train to pull in; +"it's sometimes awfully hard to say what you want without +talking mawkish rot, but there's something I've simply +got to say, rot or no rot, or drop dead on the asphalt.—I'm +pretty young, of course, and haven't seen much of +anything of life; but a person doesn't have to live long to +get the general idea that it's rather a chaotic mess. Well, +occasionally out of it there emerges a thing that appears +to bring out all that's best in your nature and gives a certain +coherence to the other things...."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said James, wondering what was to follow.</p> + +<p>"Well, it seems to me that one of those things is—you +and me. Since last night, I mean ... James, I don't +know how you feel about it, but since then I've had a sense +of nearness to you, such as I've never begun to have with +any other human being—such as doesn't occur often in one +lifetime, I imagine ... I really think very highly of you, +James!" He broke off here with a smile, half embarrassed +at his brother's slowness of response, ready to retreat into +the everyday and the trivial if the response did not come.</p> + +<p>But he need not have worried; James was merely choosing +his words; every nerve in him was thrilling in answer +to Harry's advance. He returned the smile, but replied, +in full seriousness: "You've hit it exactly; I should even +say it couldn't be duplicated in one lifetime.... You're +unique, Harry!"</p> + +<p>"That's it—unique," said Harry, joining in with his +mood. "You've mastered the art of uniquity, James."<span class="pagenum">[158]</span></p> + +<p>"And what's more," went on the other, "it always has +been that way—really. Even during these last few years. +With me, I mean."</p> + +<p>"With me, too. James"—he stood still and looked his +brother full in the face—"do you know, such a relation as +ours is one of the few positive good things that makes life +worth while? If we were both struck dead as we stand +here, life would have been well worth living—just for +this!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's true," said James slowly; "that's perfectly +true."</p> + +<p>"And one thing more—for Heaven's sake, James, don't +let's either of us mess up this thing in the future, if we can +help it! It may be broken up by outside causes—well and +good; we can't prevent that; but can't we have the sense +not to let silly, conventional things come between us? Let's +not be afraid, above all, of plain talk—at any rate, you +need never be afraid to say anything to me. I may be narrow +and obstinate to other people, but I don't think I could +ever be so to you again. I'd take anything from you, +James, anything!—" He smiled at the unintentional +double meaning of his words, adding, "And there's nothing +I wouldn't give you, either."</p> + +<p>It would not be too much to say that James was literally +inspired by Harry's words. They seemed to bring out +every vestige of what was good and noble and unselfish in +his nature, lifting him high above his everyday, weak, +commonplace self—such as he had shown it in the cab, for +instance—making life as clear, as sensible, as inspiring as +it had seemed last night. His "sacrifice" now appeared +nothing; he scarcely thought of it at all, but its nature, +when it did appear in the back of his brain, was that of an +obvious, pleasant, easy duty; a service that was a joy, a +denial that was a self-gratification.</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll remember. And if I telegraph you to +dye your face pea-green, I shall expect you to do it!" He +spoke with a lightness of spirit wholly unfeigned. Then +he continued, somewhat more seriously: "I'll tell you +what it is; each of us has got to behave so well that it'll be +the fault of the other if we do fall out. There's a poem +Father used to read that says something of the kind; something +about there being none but you—'there is none, oh, +none but you—'"<span class="pagenum">[159]</span></p> + +<p>"'That from me estrange your sight,'" finished Harry. +"I remember—Campion, I think."</p> + +<p>"That's it—that from me estrange your sight. It's +funny how those things come back sometimes...." The +train pulled noisily in at that moment and made further +discussion impossible, but enough had been said to start +the same thoughts running in the minds of both and give +them both the feeling, as they clasped hands in parting, +that the future had the blessing of the past.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[160]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE SADDEST TALE</p> + +<p>With the beginning of the next term Harry embarked +on the task of setting himself right with the world. +He found it on the whole easier than he had expected. +He had only to make a few formal apologies, as in the +cases of Shep McGee and Junius LeGrand, and let it become +generally known that he had definitely given up +drinking, et cetera, to make the cohorts of the commonplace +glad to receive him in their ranks once more.</p> + +<p>Reinstatement in the social life of New Haven followed +quite easily—almost as a matter of course, for he had not +actively offended any members of what might be described +as the entertaining classes. The female element, practically +all of whom knew him, or at least of him, through his family +connection, had evolved a mythical but interesting conception +of him as "rather a fast young man"; and that, +alas! served to endear him to their hearts rather than +otherwise.</p> + +<p>So the last months of his college course passed in a sort +of sunset haze of enjoyment, marred only by one thing, +indecision as to his subsequent career. His friends were +inclined to look rather askance at this; one or two, in a +tactful way, pointed out to him the danger of "drifting." +In reality there was small danger of this; although his +inherited income would make him independent of his own +efforts for livelihood during the rest of his natural life, +Harry would never "drift" very far. His brain was too +active, his ambition too lively, his sense of the seriousness +of life too deep to allow that. He could never be content +doing nothing. He wanted, in turn, to do very nearly +everything; the professions of lawyer, doctor, "business +man," engineer, clergyman, soldier, sailor—tinker and +tailor, even were considered and rejected in turn.</p> + +<p>"It's not that I don't want to do all these things," he +explained to Trotty, who sometimes showed impatience at<span class="pagenum">[161]</span> +his vagueness; "the trouble is that I can't do any of them. +I'm not fitted for them—I'm not worthy of them, if you +like to put it that way. If I were a conscienceless wretch, +now, it would be different!"</p> + +<p>One Sunday afternoon in June, rather saddened by the +feeling of his apparent uselessness in the world, he went to +call on Madge Elliston.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are you going to do this summer?" she +began. "That seems to be the one topic of conversation at +this time of year."</p> + +<p>"This summer? Oh, I'm going to walk, with the rest +of my class, in the more mountainous portions of Europe. +At present I am under engagement to walk through the hilly +parts of England, Scotland and Wales, the Black Forest, +the Alps, the Tyrol, the Dolomites and some of the cooler +portions of the Apennines; but the Cévennes and the Caucasus +are still open, if you care to engage them.... In +between times I expect to roister, shamelessly, in some of +the livelier resorts of the Continent. That's all quite +simple; what I'm worrying about is what I'm going to do +next winter."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you write, if I may be pardoned for asking +so obvious a question?" asked Madge.</p> + +<p>"One simple but sufficient reason—I haven't got anything +to write about," answered Harry, smiling. "That's +what everybody asks, and the answer is always the same. +This prevalent belief in my literary ability is flattering, but +unfortunately it's wholly unfounded."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't say so. I've read most of what you've +written in college, and it seems to me extremely clever."</p> + +<p>"Clever—that's just it! Nothing more! The awful +truth is, there's nothing more in me. I have rather a high +regard for literature, you see, and on that very account I'm +less willing to inflict myself on it. I wouldn't care, though, +if there was anything else I appeared to be cut out for. If +I felt that I could sweep crossings better than other people, +I assure you I would go into the profession with the +greatest cheerfulness!"</p> + +<p>Madge laughed. "I know very much how you feel—I've +been going through much the same thing myself, +though you might not have guessed it. Only as it happens +I have received a call for something very like the +profession you speak of."<span class="pagenum">[162]</span></p> + +<p>"Crossing-sweeping?"</p> + +<p>"The next thing to it—teaching in a dame's school in +town—Miss Snellgrove's. I think it's rather a pretty idea, +don't you? Society flower, withered and faint with gaiety, +seeking refreshment in the cloistral, the academic!—You +don't approve?"</p> + +<p>"Woman's sphere is the home," said Harry doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Not when the home is a two-by-four box; you couldn't +call that a sphere, could you? Of course," she went on, +more seriously, "of course the real, immediate reason why +I'm doing it is financial. These are times of—well, stringency.... Not +but what we could scrape along; but it +seems rather absurd to be earning nothing when one could +just as well be earning something, doesn't it? And the +only alternative is playing about eternally with college +boys younger than myself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think you're very sensible, if that's the case. +Not that it is, of course; you'll find plenty of people coming +back to the graduate and professional schools to console +you. Also my brother James at week-ends, if that's +any comfort to you!"</p> + +<p>"James? Is he in this part of the country?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in New York. He's going to be in McClellan's +branch there next winter—assistant manager, or something +of the sort—something important and successful sounding. +We are all very much set up over it. And it's so +near that he can come up for Sunday quite regularly, if +he wants.—It does give me quite a solemn and humble +feeling, though, to think that you have found a profession +before me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; teaching at Miss Snellgrove's is more than a +profession—it's a career!—I refuse to believe, though," +she continued with a change of manner, "that you have +not found your profession already, even though you may +not care to adopt it yet. For after all, you know, you +have the creative ability. Every one says that. All that's +wanting in you, as you say, is having something to write +about, and nothing but time and development will bring +that. Meanwhile I think it's very nice and high-minded +of you not to go ahead and write nothing, with great ease +and fluency! That's what most people in your position +do."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; that's very encouraging," said Harry.<span class="pagenum">[163]</span> +He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment and continued: +"Has it ever occurred to you, Madge, that you are quite a +remarkable young woman?"</p> + +<p>"Heavens yes, hundreds of times!"</p> + +<p>"That's a denial, I suppose. However, it's true. Look +at the way you've just been talking to me!... You have +what I've come to admire very much during the past few +months—perfect balance of viewpoint. You have what +one might call a sense of ultimacy—is there such a word? +It's like a number of children, each playing about in his +own little backyard, surrounded by a high fence that he +can't see over, suspecting the existence of a lot of other +backyards, with children in them wondering what lay beyond +in just the same way. Then occasionally there is +born a happy being to whom is given the privilege of looking +down on the whole lot of them from the church steeple, +and being able to see each backyard in its exact relation to +all the other backyards. That's you.... It's a rare gift!"</p> + +<p>Madge was at first amused by this elaborate compliment, +but she ended by being rather touched by it.</p> + +<p>"It's very nice of you to say that," she replied after a +moment, "no matter how little foundation there may be +for it. It proves one thing, at any rate—I have no monopoly +of the quality of ultimacy! You wouldn't be able +to think I was ultimate, would you, unless you were a wee +bit ultimate yourself? And that goes to prove what I +said about your attitude toward your profession."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you can't make me believe in my own ultimacy, +no matter how hard you try," said Harry. "In +fact I pursue the rival study of propinquity—the art of +never seeing beyond one's own nose!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you must at least let me believe in the ultimacy +of your finding your profession," insisted Madge. But +Harry only shook his head.</p> + +<p>Commencement arrived at last, and Aunt Cecilia, attended +by a representative delegation of her progeny, +flopped down upon Aunt Selina, prepared to do as much +by Harry as she had by his brother two years earlier. +Aunt Cecilia belonged to the important class of American +women who regard a graduation as a family event second +in importance only to a wedding or a funeral, ranking +slightly higher than a "coming out." The occasion was +a particularly joyous one to her because of Harry's being<span class="pagenum">[164]</span> +able to celebrate it in a full blaze of righteousness and truth, +and because of the consequent opportunities for motherly +fluttering.</p> + +<p>"Dear Harry," she said, as she kissed, him on his arrival; +"I am so glad to be here to see you graduate, and so glad +that—that everything has gone so splendidly. It is so +much, much nicer—that is, it is <i>so</i> nice to think that—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear; you mean, isn't it nice that I'm respectable +again," said Harry, with a flippancy made gentle by the +sight of her kind blue eyes. "I am respectable now, you +know, so you needn't be afraid to talk about it. We can +all be respectable together; you're respectable, and I'm +respectable, and Ruth is respectable and Lucy is respectable, +and Aunt Selina is respectable—we hope; how about +that, Aunt Selina?—and altogether we're an eminently +respectable family. All except Beatrice, that is, who is +far, far too nobly born, being related, in fact, to a marquis. +No one in the peerage, Aunt C. dear, likes to be called respectable—it's +considered insulting. No one, that is, +above the rank of baron; the barons are now all reformed +brewers, who get their peerages by being so respectable +that people forget all about the brewing, and that is English +democracy, and isn't it a splendid thing, dear? When +you marry Ruth to an English peer, you must be sure to +have him a baron, because none of the others are respectable."</p> + +<p>"Harry, what nonsense you do talk!" said his aunt. +"Before these girls—!"</p> + +<p>"I imagine these girls know Harry by this time," remarked +Aunt Selina. "If they don't, it's time they did. +You're a hundred times more innocent than they, Cecilia, +and always will be."</p> + +<p>"Exactly always what I tell Mama," put in Ruth, the +eldest of Aunt Cecilia's brood. "Besides, what Harry +said is all quite true, I'm sure. Except about me; I shan't +marry a foreigner at all, but if I do, I certainly shan't +marry a brewer. Mama is far too rich for me to take anything +less than a duke."</p> + +<p>This was literally, almost painfully true. A succession +of deaths in Aunt Cecilia's family, accompanied by a +scarcity of male heirs, had placed her in possession of almost +untold wealth—"more than I bargained for when I +took you," as Uncle James jocularly put it, for the pleasure<span class="pagenum">[165]</span> +of seeing her bridle and blush. Aunt C. was one of +the richest women in the country, but it never changed her +a particle. Not all her wealth, not all her social prominence, +not all the refining influences that several generations' +enjoyment of these brings, could ever make her even +appear to be anything but the simple, warm-hearted, +motherly creature she was.</p> + +<p>Harry, realizing all this as well as any one, exerted himself +to make Aunt C. glad she had made the effort to come +to see him graduate, and he manfully escorted her and the +girls to the play, the baccalaureate service, his class-day +exercises, the baseball game and various other entertainments, +where, as Ruth rather aptly put it, "we can +sit around and watch somebody else do something." He +also did his full duty by his cousin, and danced away a +long and perspiring evening with her at the senior promenade. +He found Ruth very good company, in spite of her +active tongue, or rather, perhaps, because of it.</p> + +<p>The final Wednesday, pregnant with fate, arrived at +length, and after an immense deal of watching other people +receive degrees, some earned and some accorded by the +pure generosity of the University, Harry became entitled +to write the magic initials "B.A." after his name. Being +one of the leaders of his class in point of scholarship, he +was one of the twenty or so who mounted the platform and +received the diplomas for the rest. This was too much for +Aunt Cecilia, who occupied a prominent place in the front +row of the balcony.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," she sighed, wiping away a furtive tear, +"there he goes, and no mother to see him do it! No one +to be proud of him! And the brightest of all the family—I +shall never live to see a son of mine do as well, never, +never!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure," said her eldest daughter, comfortingly; +"the doctrine of chances is in your favor. You +have four boys—four chances to Aunt—what was her +name?—Aunt Edith's two. Harry's not so fearfully +bright, anyway—only sixteenth out of three hundred."</p> + +<p>"My dear, how can you talk so? you ought to be +ashamed, after his being so nice to you all this week!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's been very sweet, indeed," replied the maiden, +magnanimously. "Though I don't know, on looking back +at it, that he's been any nicer to me than I've been to him!"<span class="pagenum">[166]</span></p> + +<p>Harry himself was rather impressed by the long ceremony +in which he found the qualities of dignity and simplicity +nicely blended. He was impressed particularly by +the giving of the honorary degrees; it seemed to him a +very fine thing that these ten or fifteen people, all of them +leaders in widely different spheres of activity, should make +so much of receiving a bit of parchment from a university +which most of them had not even attended, and equally +fine of the university to do them honor; the whole giving +proof of the triumph of the academic ideal in an age of +materialism.</p> + +<p>The same thought occurred to him even more vividly at +the great alumni luncheon that followed; the last and in +some ways the most impressive of all the Commencement +ceremonies. The great Renaissance dining hall filled from +end to end with graduates, upwards of a thousand strong, +ranging between the hoary-headed veteran and the hour-old +Bachelor, all of them gathered for the single purpose +of doing honor to their alma mater, all of them thrilled by +the same feeling of affection for her—all this awakened a +responsive note in the mind of Harry, always ready to +render honor where honor was due, or to show love when +he felt it. It was pleasant to sit and eat among one's +classmates and in the presence of those other, older, more +exalted beings stretching away to the other end of the hall +and think that they were all, in a way, on terms of equal +footing—all graduates together.</p> + +<p>At one end of the hall, on a great raised dais, sat the +highest officers of the University, in company with the +guests of honor of the day, the recipients of the honorary +degrees. After the meal was over, certain of these were +called upon to speak. Harry thought he had never heard +such speeches. The men who made them were big men, +foremost in the country's service and in the work of the +world; one was a Cabinet minister, another a great explorer, +another a scientist, another a missionary. The +ultimate message of each one of them was the high mission +of Yale, given in no spirit of boastful, flag-waving "almamatriotism," +but with strong emphasis on the theme of +service. One got from them the idea that Yale men, like +all men of their station and responsibility the world over, +were born to serve humanity. The mission of Yale in this +scheme was one of preparation; she acted as a recruiting-<span class="pagenum">[167]</span>station +and clearing-house, developing the special powers +of each of her sons, equipping them with knowledge of +books, other men and themselves, and at last sending them +into the field where they were calculated to make the best +use of themselves. One revered and loved Yale, of course, +for what she had given one; to her every man owed a full +measure of gratitude and affection for what he had become. +But one was never to forget where Yale stood in the +scheme of things; one must always bear in mind that she +was not an end in herself, but a means—one of many other +means—to an infinitely greater end. Only by considering +her in her place in the vast order of world-service could +one do justice to her true power, her true greatness.</p> + +<p>The impression ultimately conveyed was not that of a +smaller Yale but of a larger world. Harry had never considered +the relation between universe and university in +this illuminating light. He suddenly realized that his +idea of his college had been that of a particularly reputable +and agreeable finishing-school for young men; a treasury +of social knowledge and the home of sport. He had mistaken +the side-shows for the main exhibition; he had admired +and criticized them without regard to the whole of +which they were but small parts. In a flash he looked +back and realized the vanity and recklessness of his earlier +revolt against college institutions and traditions. Who +was he that he should criticize them? What had he to +offer as substitute for them except an attitude of idle receptivity +and irresponsible dalliance? He had recovered +from that first foolishness, to be sure, and thank Heaven +for that slight evidence of sanity; but what had he done +since his recovery except sit back and watch the days slide +by? Had he ever made the slightest attempt toward serious +thinking, toward placing himself, his college and the +world in their proper relations to each other? Had he +succeeded in learning a single important lesson from the +many that had been offered to him? Was it possible that +he had completely wasted these four precious years of +golden youth?</p> + +<p>Suddenly he felt tears of humiliation and self-contempt +burn behind his eyes. It would be absurd to shed them. +He shifted his position and lit a cigarette. He inhaled +the comforting smoke deeply and listened with meticulous +attention to the speech from which his mind had wandered<span class="pagenum">[168]</span> +into introspection, trying not to think any more of himself. +Gradually, however, there penetrated into his inner +consciousness the comforting thought that he had been +hysterical, had judged himself too harshly in his anxiety +to be sufficiently hard on himself. Those years were not +wholly wasted—he had learned something in them. He +was ahead of where he was when he entered college, if +only a little. The thought of James occurred to him; +James would be an inspiration in the future as he had +been a help in the past. No, there was yet hope for him, +though he must be very careful how he acted in the future. +He had been a fool, but he hoped now that he had been +merely a young fool, and that his mistakes could be at +least partly rectified by age and effort. He would try +hard, at least; he would be receptive, industrious, thorough, +tolerant, unbiased and humble—above all, humble. He +glanced up at the speaker's table and reflected that the +men who had the most reason to be proud were in fact the +humblest.</p> + +<p>The last speaker sat down amid a round of applause. +The men on the floor of the hall stood up to sing before departing. +Harry, looking at his watch, was surprised at +the lateness of the hour; he had promised to see Aunt +Cecilia and her daughters off at the station and must hurry +away at once if he were to catch them.</p> + +<p>He laboriously made his way through the ranks of singing +graduates toward the door, listening to the familiar +words of the song as he had never before listened.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mother of men, grown strong in giving<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Honor to them thy lights have led,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>sang the men. Yes, thought Harry, there was plenty of +honor to give. Would that he might ever be one of those +to whom such honor was due, but that was not to be thought +of. It was enough for him to be one of those who were led +by those lights. Yes, that was the first step, steadfastly to +follow the light that the grave Mother held above and before +him; to keep his eyes constantly on it, never looking +down or behind.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rich in the toil of thousands living,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Proud of the deeds of thousands dead,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Deeds, deeds! That was what counted; any one could see +visions and dream dreams; the veriest fool could mean<span class="pagenum">[169]</span> +well. Oh, might a merciful Heaven help him to convert +into deeds the lofty ideals that now surged within his +brain!—What a ripping song that was, and how well it +sounded to hear a thousand men singing it together! He +forgot Aunt Cecilia for a moment, and checked his pace +near the door to hear the last verse.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spirit of youth, alive, unchanging,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under whose feet the years are cast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heir to an ageless empire, ranging<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over the future and the past—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Half blinded with tears he staggered out into the empty +vestibule and steadied himself for a second against a pillar. +He never had realized before how much it all meant to him, +how he loved what he was leaving. And yet—"Spirit of +youth, alive, unchanging"—he had never quite caught the +full meaning of those words. They now seemed, in a way, +to soften the pain of parting, to give him comfort and +strength with which to face the years. Surely growing +old would not be so bad if one could think of the spirit of +youth as still there, alive, unchanging, spreading joy and +hope through the world!</p> + +<p>And then, sweet and sudden as a breeze at sundown came +the thought to him that here lay his life's work, his own +little mission in the world: in using his intelligence and +his power of interpretation, the only gifts he could discover +himself as possessing, to guide and assist those who +happened to come a little after him in the long procession +of human life—in becoming, in short, a teacher. A sudden +feeling of calmness and surety took possession of him; +he was able to consider himself and his place in the world +with a more complete detachment than he had ever before +attained. He found himself able, for the moment, to rate +his powers and limitations exactly as an unprejudiced observer +might have done. Within him he suddenly, unmistakably +felt those qualities of priest and prophet which, +combined with that of the scholar, make up the ideal +teacher.</p> + +<p>"Spirit of youth," he whispered, "to you I dedicate myself, +such as I am, and my life, such as it may be."</p> + +<p>He stood still for a moment and listened as the great +chorus behind the closed door brought the song to a finish, +ending on a note both solemn and exalted. For a second<span class="pagenum">[170]</span> +or two there was silence, and then there burst forth the +sound of the Yale cheer. The contrast between the last +notes of the song and the brazen bellow of that cheer, hallowed +by the memories of a hundred close-fought fields, +struck Harry as both dramatic and comic, and caused a +corresponding change in his own mood.</p> + +<p>"Spirit of youth, alive, unchanging!" he quoted again, +laughing. Then he hurried off to say good-by to his aunt.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[171]</span> + +<h2>PART II</h2> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_I2">CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p class="h3">CAN LOVE BE CONTROLLED BY ADVICE?</p> + +<p>Madge Elliston lived alone with her mother in a +small house on an unpretentious but socially unimpeachable +side street, just off one of the main avenues. +Their means, as Madge has already intimated, were modest—"modest," +as the young lady sprightly put it, "to the +point of prudishness." Joseph Elliston, her father, had +been a brilliant and promising young professor when her +mother married him, with, as people said, a career before +him. If by career they meant affluence, they were wholly +right in saying it was all before him. But though the two +married on his prospects, they could not fairly have been +said to have made an unwise venture. Nothing but death +had kept Joseph Elliston from becoming a popular and respected +teacher, a foremost authority on economics, the +author of standard works on that subject, and the possessor +of a comfortable income. But he had died when +Madge, his only child, was five years old, leaving his small +and sorrowing family barely enough to live on.</p> + +<p>The straitened circumstances in which the sad event +threw Mrs. Elliston and her daughter were somewhat relieved +by the generosity of the only sister of the widow, +Eliza Scharndorst, herself a widow and the possessor of a +large fortune. She was extremely fond of Madge, who +always got on beautifully with her "Aunt Tizzy"—an +infantile corruption allowed to survive into maturity—having +more in common with her, if the truth must be +known, than with her mother. She was a festive soul, +much given to entertaining, and she was not long in discovering +that the assistance of her niece was a distinct +asset in making her home attractive to guests. It is not +to be wondered at that Madge's occasional services in the +way of decorating a dinner table or brightening up an +otherwise stodgy reception would redound to her material<span class="pagenum">[172]</span> +benefit as well as to her spiritual welfare. Such good +things as trips to Bermuda, occasional new frocks and instruction +under the best music masters, came her way so +frequently that by the time we next meet her, nearly five +years after our last sight of her, Madge was a far better +dowered young woman, socially speaking, than the penniless +orphaned daughter of a college professor could normally +hope to be.</p> + +<p>For when we next see her Miss Elliston is—and in no +mere figurative sense—holding the center of the stage. A +real stage in a real theater, under the full blaze of real +footlights, and if no real audience sits on the other side of +those footlights, it is no great matter, for a very real +audience will sit there soon enough. On Friday night, to +be exact, and this is Tuesday. To be even more exact, it +is the first formal, dress rehearsal of an amateur performance +of "The Beggar's Opera" (immortal work!) +organized primarily for charitable purposes by a number +of prominent citizens, among them Mrs. Rudolph Scharndorst, +and secondarily, if we are to give any weight to the +opinion of those present at the rehearsal, for the purpose +of giving scope to the talents of Mrs. Rudolph Scharndorst's +niece.</p> + +<p>For Madge is cast for the part of Polly Peachum, +heroine of the piece. And if there was originally the +slightest doubt as to the wisdom of such an assignment, it +has vanished into thin air before now. For Madge is +lovely—! It is not merely a matter of voice; there never +was any doubt but that she had the best voice available for +the part. What the scattered few in the dark auditorium +are busy admiring now is the extraordinary charm, grace, +actual beauty, even, of the girl performing before them. +The more so because it is all so unattended; no one thought +that she would give that effect on the stage. Of a type +usually described as "attractive," slight and rather short, +with hair sandy rather than golden, and a face distinguished +only by a nice pair of blue eyes and a particularly +ingratiating smile, Madge could not fairly be expected to +turn herself into a vision of commanding beauty and charm +with the slight external aids of paint and powder and a +position behind a row of strong lights.</p> + +<p>The only unimpressed and indifferent person in the +theater was the coach. That was quite as it should be, of<span class="pagenum">[173]</span> +course; coaches must not exhibit bursts of enthusiasm, like +common people. Yet it is perhaps worth mentioning that +the coach in question made none of his frequent interruptions +during the first few moments of Polly's presence on +the stage, but sat silently biting his pencil and frowning +in the back row of the theater till after she had finished +her second song.</p> + +<p>"One moment!" he cried, running down the aisle. "I'm +going to change that song." He exchanged a few whispered +remarks with the leader of the orchestra, who had charge +of the musical side of the production. "All right—never +mind now—go on with the act ... No, don't cross there, +Mrs. Peachum; stay where you are, and Miss Elliston! +what are the last words of the second line of that song?"</p> + +<p>"'Mothers obey.'"</p> + +<p>"All right—let's have 'em. I didn't get them that time. +Go on, please."</p> + +<p>The act continued, and admiration grew apace. When +at length the act reached its close there was a faint but +spontaneous outburst of applause from the almost empty +theater.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think of Madge?" asked Mrs. +Scharndorst, waylaying the coach on his progress down the +aisle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she'll do! There's a lot there to improve, though.—Strike +for the second act—drinking scene!" This last +uttered in a shout as he rushed on down to the stage. Not +very fulsome praise, to be sure, but Mrs. Scharndorst +knows her man, and is satisfied. Indeed, she respects him +the more for not being fulsome.</p> + +<p>So do the other members of the cast and chorus; at least, +if they do respect him, it cannot be for the enthusiasm of +his approval. His demeanor, as he stands there on a chair +in the orchestra pit, shouting directions to his minions, is +not indicative of very profound satisfaction with the progress +of the rehearsal.</p> + +<p>"Thompson! If you're going to use your spot on Polly's +entrance, for Heaven's sake keep it on her face and +not on her feet! I didn't see a thing but her shoes then +... No, you there, that table way down front—so, and +oh, Mrs. Smith! is that Tilman's idea of a costume for an +old woman, middle class?... I thought so ... no, I'm +afraid not! That train might be quite suitable for a<span class="pagenum">[174]</span> +duchess, but it won't do for a robber's wife. You see Miss +Banks about it, will you please?... Mr. Barnaby! I +want to get you and Miss Elliston to go through the business +of that Pretty Polly song once again—you're both as +stiff as pokers still.... No, just the motions. No, stand +on both feet and keep your chest out while you're singing +your part, and when she comes in, 'Fondly, fondly,' you +half turn round, so—so that when she falls back on your +arm she'll have a chance to show more than her chin to the +audience.... No, I think I'll have you wait till the encore +before you kiss her—it looks flat if you do it too often, and +by the bye, Mr. Barnaby, will you make an appointment +with Mrs. Adams for to-morrow to get up a dance for that +prison scene—'How happy could I be with either'.... +Four o'clock—all right.... What song?"</p> + +<p>This last is in answer to an inquiry from Miss Elliston.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course—'Can love be controlled by advice'.... +Come down here and we'll talk it over. Careful, step in +the middle of that chair and you'll be all right ... +there!" And Miss Elliston and the great man sit down +companionably in the places belonging respectively to the +oboe and the trombone, just as though they had been +friends from earliest youth.</p> + +<p>If there is one thing we despise, it is transparent roguishness +on the part of an author. Let us hasten to admit, +then, that the coach is none other than our friend Harry; +a Harry not changed a particle, really, from his undergraduate +days, though a Harry, to be sure, in whom the +passage of five years has effected certain important developments. +Such, for instance, as having become able to +coach an amateur production of a musical show. These +will be described and accounted for, all in good time. The +story cannot be everywhere at once.</p> + +<p>"About that song ... I know nothing about music, of +course, but it struck me to-night that that was rather a +good tune—one of the best in the show.... It may have +been the singing, of course."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it—it's a ripping tune!—Let's see what +the trombone part for it looks like.... There isn't any—just +those little thingumbobs. Oh, the accompaniment is +all on the strings, of course; I forgot."</p> + +<p>"Well, what I want to get at is, do you think Gay's +words are up to it?"<span class="pagenum">[175]</span></p> + +<p>"Nowhere near. I'd much rather sing some of yours, +if that's what you're getting at.... They're not quite +<i>jeune fille</i>, either; I just discovered that to-day."</p> + +<p>"There's a great deal in this show that isn't. We've +cut most of it, but there's a good bit left, only no one who +hasn't studied the period can spot it.... You needn't tell +any one that.—Well, let's see about some words. 'Can +love be controlled by advice, will Cupid our mothers obey'—we'll +keep that, I think ..."</p> + +<p>He produced a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbled +rapidly on it. In a minute or two he had evolved the +following stanzas, retaining the first four lines of Gay's +original song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can love be controlled by advice?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will Cupid our mothers obey?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though my heart were as frozen as ice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At his flame 'twould have melted away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now love is enthroned in my heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All your threats and entreaties are in vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His power defies all your art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And chiding but adds to my pain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, mother! if ever in youth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your heart by love's anguish was wrung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever you thrilled with its truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too sweet to be spoken or sung;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever you've longed for life's best,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor reckoned the issue thereof;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If heart ever beat in your breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have pity on me—for I love!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"There!" said he, handing it to the prima donna; "see +what you think of that."</p> + +<p>"Oh ... much better! There'll be much more fun in +singing it."</p> + +<p>"It isn't much in the way of poetry," explained Harry, +"but it gives a certain dramatic interest to the song, which +is the main thing. You can change anything you want +in it, of course; I daresay some of those words are quite +unsingable on the notes of the song."</p> + +<p>"No—I think they'll be all right. Thank you very +much; it was hard to make anything out of the other +words. Also, I shall be able to tell Mama that you've cut +out some of Gay's naughty words and put in some innocent +ones of your own instead. She's been just a little worried +lately, I think; she seems to have an idea that 'The Beggar's +Opera' isn't quite a nice play for a young lady to act in!"<span class="pagenum">[176]</span></p> + +<p>"Well, one can hardly blame her...." This sentence +trailed off into inaudibility as Harry turned to give his attention +to some one else coming up with a question at the +moment. Perhaps Miss Elliston did not even hear the beginning +of the sentence; it is easier to believe that she +did not, in view of what followed. Certainly every extenuating +circumstance is needed, on both sides, to help +account for the fact that so trivial conversation as that +which just took place should have led directly to unpleasantness +and indirectly to consequences of a far-reaching +kind. It is easier to comprehend, also, if one remembers +that Miss Elliston's thoughts when she was left alone by +Harry occupying the position of the trombone, remained +on, or at any rate quite near, the point at which the conversation +broke off, whereas Harry's had flown far from +it. So that when, after an interval of a few minutes, +Harry's voice again became articulate to her in the single +isolated sentence "given her something to say to her old +frump of a mother," addressed to the leader of the +orchestra, she at first misconstrued his meaning, interpreting +his remark not as he meant it, as referring to her stage +mother, Mrs. Peachum, but as referring to quieting the +puritanical scruples of her own mother, Mrs. Elliston.</p> + +<p>The whole affair hung on an incredibly slender thread +of coincidence. If Harry had not unconsciously raised +his voice somewhat on that one phrase, if he had not happened +to use the word "frump," which might conceivably +be twisted into applying to either mother, Miss Elliston +would never, even for a moment, have been tempted to attribute +the baser meaning to his words. As it was the +thought did not remain in her head above five seconds, at +the outside; she knew Harry better than to believe seriously +that he would say such a thing. But by another +unfortunate chance Harry happened to be looking her +way during those few seconds, and marked her angry flush +and the instantaneous glance of indignation and contempt +that she shot toward him. He saw her flush die down and +her expression soften again, but the natural quickness that +had made him realize her state of mind was not long in +giving him an explanation of it.</p> + +<p>All might yet have been well had not Harry's sense of +humor played him false. As usually happened at these +evening rehearsals he escorted Miss Elliston home, her<span class="pagenum">[177]</span> +house lying on the way to his. In the course of the walk +an unhappy impulse made him refer to the little incident, +which had struck him as merely humorous.</p> + +<p>"By the way," said he "your sense of filial duty almost +led you astray to-night, didn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Filial duty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—you thought I was making remarks about your +mother to-night when I was talking to Cosgrove about Mrs. +Peachum and that song...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that—!" Any one who knew her might have expected +Miss Elliston to laugh and continue with something +like "Yes, I know; wasn't it ridiculous of me?" since she +really knew perfectly well that Harry was talking about +Mrs. Peachum. That she did not is due partly to the +fatigue incident to rehearsing a leading part in an opera +in addition to teaching school from nine till one every +day, and partly to the eternally inexplicable depths of +the feminine nature. She had been very much ashamed +of herself for having even for a moment done that injustice +to Harry, and she wished intensely that the affair +might be buried in the deepest oblivion. Harry's opening +of the subject, consequently, seemed to her tactless +and a trifle brutal. She had done penance all the evening +for her after all very trifling mistake; why should he insist +upon humiliating her this way?... Obviously she +was very tired!</p> + +<p>"Yes," went on Harry, "don't expect me to believe that +you were angry on behalf of Mrs. Peachum!"</p> + +<p>"No. I suppose I had a right to be angry on behalf of +my own mother, if I wanted to, though."</p> + +<p>"But I wasn't talking about your mother—you know +that!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, weren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, do you think so?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know? I was only eavesdropping, of +course, I have no right to think anything about it."</p> + +<p>"Madge, don't be silly."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really, honestly think that I am guilty of having +spoken slightingly of your mother? Just answer me +that, yes or no."</p> + +<p>"As I say, I have no right to any opinion on the subject. +I only heard something not intended—"<span class="pagenum">[178]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, the—" The remainder of this exclamation was +fortunately lost in the collar of Harry's greatcoat. "You +had better give me back that song—I presume you won't +want to sing it now."</p> + +<p>"Why not? Art is above all personal feelings." It +was mere wilfulness that led her to utter this cynical remark. +What she really wanted to say was "Of course I +want to sing it, and I know you meant Mrs. Peachum," +but somehow the other answer was given before she knew +it.</p> + +<p>"Madge, you may not know it, but you are positively +insulting."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Harry—! Who began being insulting? Not that +I mind your insulting me...."</p> + +<p>"Oh. That's the way it is, is it? I see." They were +now standing talking at the foot of Madge's front steps. +Harry continued, very quietly: "Now perhaps you'd better +give me back that song."</p> + +<p>"I don't see the necessity."</p> + +<p>"I'll be damned if you shall sing it now!" His voice +remained low, but passion sounded in it as unmistakably +as if he had shouted. The remark was, in fact, made in +an uncontrollable burst of anger, necessitating the severing +of all diplomatic relations.</p> + +<p>"Just as you like, of course." Madge's tone, cold, expressionless, +hopelessly polite, is equivalent to the granting +of a demanded passport. "Here it is. Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night."</p> + +<p>So they parted, in a white heat of anger. But being +both fairly sensible people, in the main, beside being the +kind of people whose anger however violently it may burn +at first, does not last long, they realized before sleep closed +their eyes that night that the quarrel would not last over +another day.</p> + +<p>Morning brought to Harry, at any rate, a complete return +of sanity, and before breakfast he sat down and +wrote the following note:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Dear Madge:</p> + +<p>I send back the song merely as a token of the abjectness +of my submission—I don't suppose you will want to +sing it now. I can't tell you how sorry I am about my +behavior last night; I can only ask you to attribute as<span class="pagenum">[179]</span> +much, of it as possible to the fatigue of business and forgive +the rest!</p> + +<p class="author smcap">Harry.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>which he enclosed in an envelope with the words of the +song and sent to Madge by a messenger boy.</p> + +<p>Madge received it while she was at breakfast. She went +out and told the boy to wait for an answer, and went back +and finished her breakfast before writing a reply. Her +face was noticeably grave as she ate, and it became even +graver when at last she sat down at her desk and started +to put pen to paper. She wrote three pages of note-paper, +read them, and tore them up. She then wrote a +page and a half, taking more time over them than over the +three. This she also tore up. Then she sat inactive at her +desk for several minutes, and at last, seeing that she was +due at her school in a few minutes, she took up another +sheet of paper and wrote: "All right—my fault entirely. +M. E.," and sent it off by the boy.</p> + +<p>When Harry saw her at the rehearsal that evening she +greeted him exactly as if nothing had happened. She had +rather less to say to him than was customary during rehearsals, +but Harry was so busy and preoccupied he did +not notice that. He did notice that she sang the original +words to the disputed song, which, as he told himself, was +just what he expected.</p> + +<p>For the next two days he was fairly buried in responsibility +and detail and hardly conscious of any feeling +whatever beyond an intense desire to have the performance +over. It was not until this desire was partially fulfilled, +the curtain actually risen on the Friday night and +the performance well under way, that he was able to sit +back and draw a free breath. The moment came when, +having seen that all was well behind the scenes, he dropped +into the back of the box occupied by Aunt Selina and one +or two chosen friends to watch the progress of the play +from the front.</p> + +<p>Then, for the first time, he was able to look at it more +from the point of view of a spectator than that of a creator. +Now that his work was completed and must stand or fall +on its own merit, he could watch from a wholly detached +position. On the whole, he rather enjoyed the sensation. +It occurred to him, for instance, as quite a new thought,<span class="pagenum">[180]</span> +that the excellent make-up of the stolid Mr. Dawson in +the part of Peachum very largely counteracted his vocal +"dulness"; and that Mrs. Smith as Mrs. Peachum, in +spite of the innumerable sillinesses and bad tricks that had +been his despair for weeks, was making an extremely good +impression upon the audience.</p> + +<p>Then Madge made her entrance, and he saw at a glance, +as he had never seen it before, just how good Madge was. +She had a certain way of carrying her head, a certain sureness +in adjusting her movements to her speech, a certain +judgment in projecting her voice that went straight to +the spot. Madge was a born actress, that was all there +was to it; she ought to have made the stage her profession. +He smiled inwardly as he thought how many people +would make that remark after this performance. Then +his amusement gave place to a sudden and strange resentment +against the very idea of Madge's going on the stage; +a resentment he made no effort either to understand or +account for....</p> + +<p>The strings in the orchestra quavered a few languorous +notes and Madge started her song "Can love be controlled +by advice." Her voice was a singularly sweet one, of no +great volume and yet possessed of a certain carrying quality. +The excellence of her instruction, combined with her +own good taste, had brought it to a state of what, for that +voice, might be called perfection. She also had the good +sense never to sing anything too big for her. But though +her voice might not be suited to Wagner or Strauss it was +far better suited to certain simpler things than a larger +voice might have been, and the song she was singing now +was one of these. Probably no more happy combination +could be effected between singer and song than that of +Madge and the slow, plaintive, seventeenth-century melody +of "Grim king of the ghosts," which Gay had the +good sense to incorporate into his masterpiece.</p> + +<p>To say that the audience was spellbound by her rendering +of the song would be to stretch a point. It sat, for +the most part, silently attentive, enjoying it very much +and thinking that it would give her a good round of applause +and an encore at the end. Harry, standing in the +obscurity of the back part of Aunt Selina's box, was of +very much the same mind. For about half of the song, +that is. For near the end of the first verse he suddenly<span class="pagenum">[181]</span> +realized that Madge was singing not Gay's words, but his +own.</p> + +<p>It was absurd, of course, but at that realization the whole +world seemed suddenly to change. The floor beneath his +feet became clouds, the theater a corner of paradise, the +people in it choirs of marvelous ethereal beings, Mrs. +Peachum (alias Smith) a ministrant seraph, Madge's voice +the music of the spheres, and Madge herself, from being +an unusually nice girl of his acquaintance, became....</p> + +<p>What nonsense! he told himself; the idea of getting so +worked up at hearing his own words sung on a stage!—You +fool, replied another voice within him, you know perfectly +well that that's not it at all.—Don't tell me, replied +the other Harry, the sensible one; such things don't happen, +except in books; they don't happen to real people—ME, +for instance.—Why not? obstinately inquired the +other; why not you, as well as any one else?—Well, I +can't stop to argue about it now, the practical Harry answered; +I've got to go out and see that people are ready +for their cues.</p> + +<p>He went out, and found everything running perfectly +smoothly. People were standing waiting for their entrances +minutes ahead of time, the electricians were at their +posts, the make-up people had finished their work, the +scene-shifters and property men had put everything in +readiness for setting the next scene; no one even asked him +a question. He flitted about for a few moments on imaginary +errands, asking various people if all was going well; +but the real question that he kept asking himself all the +time was Is this IT? Is this IT?</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" he said at last, loudly and petulantly, +and several people turned to see whom he was reproving +now.</p> + +<p>When he got back to the box he found Madge still singing +the last verse of her song. He wondered how many +times she had had to repeat it, and hoped Cosgrove was +living up to his agreement not to give more than one encore +to each song. In reality this was her first encore; his hectic +trip behind the scenes had occupied a much shorter time +than he supposed. Madge was making a most exquisite +piece of work of her little appeal to maternal sympathy; +she was actually taking the second verse sitting down, leaning +forward with her arms on a table in an attitude of conversational<span class="pagenum">[182]</span> +pleading. He had not told her to do that; it +was so hard to make effective that he would not have dared +to suggest it. When she reached the line, "If heart ever +beat in your breast" she suddenly rose, slightly threw +back her arms and head, and sang the words on a wholly +new note of restrained passion, beautifully dramatic and +suggestive. The house burst into applause, but Harry +was seized with a fit of unholy mirth at the irony of the +situation—Madge, perfectly indifferent, singing those +words, while he, their author, consumed with an all-devouring +flame, stood stifling his passion in a dark corner. +An insane desire seized him to run out to the middle of +the stage and shout at the top of his voice "Have pity on +me, for I love!" It would be true then. He supposed, +however, that people might think it peculiar.</p> + +<p>From then on, as long as Madge held the stage, he stood +rooted to the spot, unable to lift his eyes from her. Presently +her lover came in, and they started the lovely duet, +"Pretty Polly, say." At the end of the encore, according +to Harry's instructions, Barnaby leaned over and kissed +his Polly on the mouth. A sudden and intense dislike for +Mr. Barnaby at that moment overcame Harry....</p> + +<p>The act ended; the house went wild again; the curtain +flopped up and down with no apparent intention of ever +stopping; ushers rushed down the aisles with great beribboned +bunches of flowers. This gave Harry an idea; +as soon as the second act was safely under way he rushed +out to the nearest florist's shop and commandeered all the +American Beauty roses in the place, to be delivered to +Miss Elliston with his card at the end of the next act.</p> + +<p>As he was going out of the shop he stopped to look at +some peculiar little pink and white flowers in a vase near +the door.</p> + +<p>"What are those?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Bleeding hearts," said the florist's clerk. "Just up +from Florida; very hard to get at this time of year."</p> + +<p>Harry stood still, thinking. If he sent those—would +she Know—Of course she would, answered the practical +Harry immediately; she would not only Know but would +call him a fool for his pains.—Oh, shut up! retorted the +other.</p> + +<p>"I'll have these then, instead of the roses, please," he +said aloud. "All of them, and don't forget the card."<span class="pagenum">[183]</span></p> + +<p>They did not meet till after the performance was over. +He caught sight of her making a sort of triumphal progress +through the back of the stage, on her way to the dressing +rooms, and deliberately placed himself in her path. +She was looking rather surprisingly solemn, he noticed. +Her face lighted up, however, when she saw him. She +smiled, at least.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did <i>you</i> think of it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I think the performance was very creditable," he answered. +"To say what I think of you would be compromising."</p> + +<p>She laughed and went on without making any reply. He +could not see her face, but something gave him the impression +that her smile did not last very long after she had +turned away from him.</p> + +<p>He walked home alone through the crisp March night, +breathing deeply and trying to reduce his teeming brain to +a state of order and clarity. The walk from the theater +home was not sufficient for this; he walked far beyond his +house and all the way back again before he could think +clearly enough. At last he raised his eyes to the comfortable +stars and spoke a few words aloud in a low, calm +voice.</p> + +<p>"I really think," he said, "that this is IT. I really do +think so ... But I must be very careful," he added, to +himself; "<i>very</i> careful. I must take no chances—this +time. Both on Madge's account and on mine."</p> + +<p>"No," he added after a moment; "not on my account. +On Madge's."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[184]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_II2">CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p class="h3">CONGREVE</p> + +<p>Little had happened to mark the greater part of the +time that had elapsed since Harry's graduation. For +three years he had studied hard for his doctor's degree, +and during the fourth year he had been set to teaching +English literature to freshmen, which task, on the whole, +he accomplished with marked success. But during the +fifth year, the year in which we next see him, he was not +teaching freshmen, though he was still living in New +Haven, and working, according to his own accounts, like a +galley slave. The events which led up to this state of +things form a matter of some moment in his career.</p> + +<p>These began with the production, during his fourth year +out of college, of a play of his by the college dramatic association. +Or, to be more exact, it really began some +months before that, when Harry, leaving a theater one +evening after witnessing a poor play, had remarked to his +companion of the moment: "I actually believe that I +could write a better play than that." To which the friend +made the obvious answer, "Why don't you, then?" "I +will," replied Harry, and he did.</p> + +<p>It was his first venture in that field of composition. In +all his literary activities he had never before, to borrow +his own phrase, committed dramaturgy. To the very fact +that his maiden effort came so late Harry was wont, in +later years, to attribute a large measure of his success. +His idea was that if he had begun earlier his first results +would have been so excruciatingly bad as to discourage +him from sustained effort in that direction.</p> + +<p>However this may be, the play was judged the best of +those submitted in a competition organized by the dramatic +association, and was produced by it during the following +winter with a very fair amount of success. Nobody could +fairly have called it a remarkable play, but neither could +any one have been justified in calling it a bad one. Its +theme was, apart from its setting, singularly characteristic +of the subsequent style of its author and may be said to<span class="pagenum">[185]</span> +have struck the tragi-comic note that sounded through all +his later work. It concerned the experiences of a struggling +young English author, poor, but of gentle birth, who +is first seen inveighing against the snobbery, coldness and +indifference shown toward him by people of wealth and +position, and later, after coming unexpectedly into a peerage +and a large fortune, is horrified to find himself forced +into displaying the very qualities which he had so fiercely +condemned in others. The machinery of the play was +somewhat artificial, but the characterization and dramatic +interest were skilfully worked out. The dialogue was +everywhere delightful and the contrast afforded between +the conscientious, introspective sincerity of the young +author and the gaily unscrupulous casuistry of his wife +was a forecast, if not actually an early example, of his best +work.</p> + +<p>Harry was never blind to the faults of the play, but he +remained convinced that it was good in the main, and, +what was more important, retained his interest in dramatic +composition. He worked hard during the following spring +and summer and at length evolved another play, which he +called "Chances" and believed was a great improvement +upon his first work. Early in August he sent the play to +a New York manager to whom he had obtained an introduction +and after a week or two made an appointment with +him.</p> + +<p>The secret trepidation with which he first entered the +office of the great, the redoubtable Leo Bachmann was +largely allayed by the appearance of the manager. He +was a large flabby man, with scant stringy hair and a not +unpleasant smile. He sat heavily back in an office chair and +puffed continually at a much-chewed cigar, the ashes of +which fell unnoticed and collected in the furrows of his +waistcoat. He spoke in a soft thick voice, with a strong +German accent. Harry did not see anything particularly +terrifying about him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, Mr. Vimbourne," said the manager when +Harry had made himself known. "You have sent me a +play, yes? Ah, here it is.... Unfortunately I have not +had time to read it; I am very, very busy just now, but my +man Jennings has read it and tells me it is very nice. +Very nice, indeed ..." he puffed in ruminative silence +for a few seconds. "Could you come back next week, say<span class="pagenum">[186]</span> +Friday, Mr. Vimbourne? and we will talk it over. I am +sorry to trouble you, but you see I am so very, very +busy...."</p> + +<p>Harry made another appointment and left, not wholly +dissatisfied. He returned, ten days afterward, to his second +interview, which was an almost exact replica of the +first. He allowed himself to be put off another ten days, +but when he returned for the third time and was greeted +by precisely the same soft words he was irritated and +hardly able to conceal the fact.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, your play," said the manager, as though he +had just heard of it for the first time. "Jennings was +speaking to me of it only the other night. I am sorry to +say I have not read it yet." He took the manuscript from +a pile on his desk and turned over the leaves. "I am sorry—very +sorry—I have so little time...."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you, Mr. Bachmann," said Harry.</p> + +<p>"Ah?" said the manager, without the slightest apparent +interest. "Why not, Mr. Vimbourne?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you turned straight to the best scene in it just +now, for one thing.... Beside, you wouldn't keep me +hanging on this way if you didn't see something in it, and +if you see anything in it of course you've read it. And I +don't mind telling you, Mr. Bachmann, that isn't my idea +of business."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bachmann's next remark was so unexpected that +Harry nearly swooned in his chair. "I read it the day +after it came," he said softly.</p> + +<p>"Then why on earth didn't you say so in the first +place?" stammered Harry.</p> + +<p>The manager made no reply for some moments, but sat +silently puffing and turning over the pages of Harry's +manuscript.</p> + +<p>"I like to know people," he murmured at last, very +gently and with apparent irrelevance. Harry, however, +saw the bearing of the remark and suddenly felt extraordinarily +small. He had been rather proud of his little +burst of spirit and independence; he now saw that Leo +Bachmann had drawn it from him with the ease and certainty +of touch with which a musician produces a note +from a flute. He wondered, abjectly, how many other +self-satisfied young authors had sat where he sat and been +played upon by that great puffing mass of pulp.<span class="pagenum">[187]</span></p> + +<p>Bachmann was the next to speak. "I like your play +very much, Mr. Vimbourne," he said. "It is very nice—some +things in it not so good, but on the whole, it is very +nice. I think I vill try to produce it, Mr. Vimbourne, but +not yet—not till I see how my September plays go. I +shall keep yours in reserve, and then, later, we may try +it. About the first of November, when the Fifth Avenue +crowd comes back to town...." He smiled slightly. +"They are the people that vill vant to see it. Not Harlem. +Not Brooklyn. The four hundred. Even so," he +continued, ruminatively, "even so, I shall not make on +it."</p> + +<p>This seemed to Harry a good opening for a proposition +he had been longing to make since the very first but had +never quite dared. "If you want me to put anything up +on it, Mr. Bachmann, why—I...."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Bachmann gently; "I never do that, I +produce my own plays, for my own reasons. I vill pay +you a sum, down. And a small royalty, perhaps—after +the hundredth performance."</p> + +<p>Harry looked up and smiled, and the manager smiled +back at him. His smile grew quite broad, almost a laugh, +in fact. Then he rose from his chair—the first time +Harry had seen him out of it—and clasped Harry's hand +between his two large plump ones.</p> + +<p>"I think we shall get on very well, Mr. Vimbourne," +he said. "Very well, indeed. I vill let you know when +rehearsals begin. And you must write more—a great deal +more. But—vait till after the rehearsals!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think I understand you," said Harry, laughing. +"I'll wait. And I'll come to the rehearsals, too!"</p> + +<p>In October the rehearsals actually started, and Harry +began to see what he told Mr. Bachmann he thought he +understood. Day after day he sat in the dark draughty +theater and watched the people on the stage slash and cut +and change his carefully constructed dialogue without +offering a word of remonstrance. At first the pleasure of +seeing his own work take tangible form, on a real professional +stage and by the agency of real professional actors +more than made up for the loss. Then as the rehearsals +went on, he perceived that there was a very real reason +for every cut and change, and that the play benefited tremendously +thereby. He began to see how acting accomplishes<span class="pagenum">[188]</span> +a great deal of what he had always considered the +office of dialogue. A dialogue of five speeches, to take a +concrete example, on the probable reasons why a certain +person did not arrive when he was expected was made unnecessary +by one of the characters crossing the stage and +looking out of a window at just the right moment and +with just the right facial expression.</p> + +<p>Harry made no secret of his conviction that his play improved +immensely under the care of Bachmann and his +people. His attitude was that they knew everything about +play-producing and he knew nothing, and that the extraordinary +thing was that he had been able to provide +them with any dramatic material whatever. He joked +about it with the actors and managers, when occasion +offered, as callously as if he had been a third person, and +rather surprised himself by the light-heartedness he displayed. +Whether this was entirely genuine, whether it +did not contain elements of a pose, a desire to appear as a +man of the theatrical world, a fear of falling into all the +usual errors of youthful playwrights, he did not at first +ask himself.</p> + +<p>One day, about a week before the opening night, he received +a jolt that made him look upon himself and his +calling in rather a new light. This came through an unexpected +agent—none other, indeed, than a woman of the +cast, and not the player of the principal female part at that, +but a lesser light, Bertha Bensel by name, a plain but +pleasant little person of uncertain age. Harry was lunching +alone with her and carrying on in what had become his +customary style when talking of his play.</p> + +<p>"You know," he was saying, "I thought at one time I +had written a play, but I haven't, I've written a moving +picture show. Everybody is writing movies these days, +even those that try to write anything else, which just +shows. I'm going regularly into the movie business, after +this. Seriously. And I intend to write the real kind of +movies, the kind that don't bother about the characters at +all, but just dramatize scenery. I shall call things by +their proper names, too. Let's see—a Devonshire parsonage +is beloved and wooed by a Scotch moor, but turns him +down for a Louis Onze château with a Le Nôtre garden. +She discovers, just in time, that his intentions are not honorable, +and is rescued by a Montana prairie, who happens<span class="pagenum">[189]</span> +along just at the right moment. The situation is still +awkward, however, because the parsonage finds that her +prairie has a wife living, a New York gambling hell, whom +he hates but who won't release him. So the parsonage +refuses his disinterested offers and starts life for herself. +After various adventures with a South Carolina plantation, +an Indian Ocean trawler, an Argentine pampas and +the Scala theater at Milan, the poor parsonage ends up +in a London sweat shop, to which she is at last discovered +by the Scotch moor, who had been looking for her all these +years. Embrace. Passed by the national board of censors."</p> + +<p>Miss Bensel smiled, but did not seem to see much humor +in this foolery. That was due, thought Harry, to the +fatigue of her long morning's work, and he determined +not to bother her with any more nonsense. The silence +which he allowed to ensue, however, was broken by an unexpected +remark from his <i>vis-à-vis</i>, who said with a dispassionate +air:</p> + +<p>"I think, Mr. Wimbourne, you stand in a great danger."</p> + +<p>"Danger?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is, I hope you do. If not, I'm very much +disappointed in you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much, but just how?"</p> + +<p>"You're in danger of getting to take your art as lightly +as you talk about it. Then you'll be lost, for good. It's a +real danger. I've seen the thing happen before, to people +of as much talent as you, or nearly so."</p> + +<p>Harry looked at her in blank astonishment, and she +went on:</p> + +<p>"If you go on talking that way about your profession, +you'll get to think that way and finally <i>be</i> that way. All +roses and champagne—nothing worth while. You may go +on writing plays, but they'll get sillier and sillier, even +if they get more and more popular. So your life will pass +away in frivolity and popularity.... That's not your +place in the world, Mr. Wimbourne. You've got talent—perhaps +more. You know that? This play, now. I say +nothing about the dialogue, because good dialogue is not +so rare—though yours is the best I've seen for some time—but +how about the rest of it, the story, the ideas? It's +good stuff—you know it is."</p> + +<p>Harry leaned back in his chair and tapped the table<span class="pagenum">[190]</span> +meditatively with a spoon. He had the lack of self-consciousness +that enables a person to take blame exactly in +the spirit in which it is given, with no alloying mixture +of embarrassment or resentment.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said after a while, "I suppose you're right +about it. I have a certain responsibility.... I suppose +the stuff is good, when all is said and done—though I +don't dare to think it can be."</p> + +<p>Miss Bensel leaned forward with her elbows on the table +and allowed her face to relax into a smile, a curious little +smile that did not part her lips but drew down the corners +of her mouth.</p> + +<p>"That's it—I thought that probably was it! You're +so modest you're afraid to take yourself seriously. Well, +that's a pretty good fault; I think on the whole it's +better than taking yourself too seriously. But don't do +it, even so. Take it from me, my dear boy, you can't accomplish +anything worth while in this world, <i>anything</i>, +whatever it is, unless you take your work seriously—at +bottom."</p> + +<p>Harry did a good deal of serious thinking on the subject +during the rest of the day, and the more he thought +about it the more convinced he became that Miss Bensel +was right. He thought of Dickens' famous utterance on +the subject of being flippant about one's life's work; he +thought of the example of Congreve. Congreve, there was +an appropriate warning! Congreve, whose life was a duel +between the painstaking artist and the polished man-about-town, +who never would speak other than lightly of his best +work, whose boast and whose shame it was deliberately to +stifle the fires of his own genius. Was he, Harry, guilty +of something like the pose of Congreve? He thought of +his attitude of exaggerated <i>camaraderie</i> with the actors +and managers, of his attitude toward his own work; he +realized that frivolity had become not merely a pose, but +a habit. Was he not, in such doings, following in the steps +of Congreve—the man who insisted that the work that +made him famous had been written for the sole purpose +of whiling away the tedium of convalescence after an illness?</p> + +<p>As he watched his own play being enacted before his +eyes that afternoon he realized that his work was, in the +main, good, and that he had known it all along. He had<span class="pagenum">[191]</span> +felt it while he was writing it; Bachmann's astonishingly +prompt (as he had since learned it to be) acceptance of it +had given conclusive proof of it. If anything further was +needed, he had it in the enthusiasm with which the actors +played it and spoke of it. Somehow, by some incredible +chance, the divine gift had fallen upon him. To belittle +that gift, to fail to devote his best efforts to making the +most of it, would be to shirk his life's duty.</p> + +<p>The third act, upon which most of the work of the afternoon +was done, drew to its close. It had been immensely +shortened by cuts; Harry was not sorry, though he missed +some of what he had thought the best lines in the play. +Then the heroine made her final exit, and Harry suddenly +realized she had done so without her and the hero's having +delivered two little speeches that ought to have come +just before; speeches on which he had spent much care and +labor. Those two lines had, in fact, contained the whole +gist of the play, or at any rate driven home its thesis in +a particularly striking way. The point of the play was +that living was simply a system of chances, and these +speeches made clear the distinction between the wrong +kind of chancing, the careless, risking-all kind, whose final +result was always ruin, and the sober, intelligent, prayerful +kind, as shown in the lives of those who, after careful +consideration of all the chances that may affect them, +do what they decide is best and await the result with the +calmness of a Mohammedan fatalist.</p> + +<p>Harry suddenly became imbued with the profound conviction +that those two speeches were absolutely necessary +to the understanding of his play. He hastily read over +the last half of the act in his typewritten copy, and failed +to see how any spectator could catch the true meaning of +the work without them. Well, here was a chance to show +how seriously he could take his art! The whole affair +took on a new and strange momentousness; he stood at +this instant, he told himself, at the very turning-point of +his artistic career. He would not take the wrong road, +cost him what it might; he would not be found wanting.</p> + +<p>Bachmann was in the theater, sitting in the back row +of the orchestra, as was his custom. Harry determined +to go straight to him and ask him to put those lines in +again. As he walked up the aisle he thought feverishly +of the tremendous import of this interview. Bachmann<span class="pagenum">[192]</span> +would refuse at first, he knew that well enough. Bachmann +would not easily be convinced by the opinion of an +inexperienced scribbler. But Harry was determined not +to be beaten; he was prepared to fight, prepared to make +a scene, if necessary; prepared to sacrifice the production +of his play, if it came to that. He could see Bachmann's +slow smile as he reminded him of practical considerations. +"Your contract?" "Damn the contract," Harry would +reply. "Ha, ha! I've got the whip hand of you there, +Mr. Bachmann! I can afford to break all the contracts I +want!" "And your career?" retorted Bachmann, with +a sneer, but turning ever so slightly pale. "Ho! my +career! What the devil do I care for my career! I choose +to write for all time, not for my own! I...."</p> + +<p>"Vell, Mr. Vimbourne," Bachmann, the live, fleshly +Bachmann, was saying in a startlingly mild and everyday +tone of voice, "what can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ... I just wanted to speak to you about this last +scene," said Harry, trying hard to keep his voice steady. +"They've cut out two lines just before Miss Cleves' exit +that I think ought to be kept."</p> + +<p>"Let's see."</p> + +<p>Harry handed him the manuscript and anxiously +watched him as he glanced rapidly over the pages. +"They're pretty important lines, really. They explain a +lot; I'm afraid people won't understand...." He could +feel his voice weakening and his knees trembling, but his +determination remained.</p> + +<p>"Burchard!" Bachmann bellowed, in the general direction +of the stage.</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"What about those two speeches before Miss Cleves' +exit?"</p> + +<p>There was a short and rather flurried silence from the +stage, after which the voice of Burchard again emerged:</p> + +<p>"Miss Cleves said she couldn't make her exit on that +line."</p> + +<p>"Where is she? Tell her to come back and try it."</p> + +<p>The battle was won without a shot being fired. Harry, +almost literally knocked flat by the surprise and relief +of the moment, sank into the nearest seat. Bachmann got +up and lumbered off toward the stage; Harry leaned his +head against the back of his chair and gave himself over<span class="pagenum">[193]</span> +to an outburst of internal mirth, at his own expense.</p> + +<p>He raised his eyes again to the stage. Curiously enough, +the first person his glance fell on was Miss Bensel, with +her trim little figure and humorously plain face. It +seemed to him she was smiling out at him, with a mocking +little smile that drew down the corners of her mouth.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Everybody knows what happened to the play "Chances"; +its history is a page of the American stage. Much has +been said and written about it; it has been called a landmark, +a stepping-stone, a first ditch, a guiding light, a +moral victory, a glorious failure, a promising defeat and +various similar things so often that people are tired of the +very name of it. What actually happened to it can be +told in a few words; it was well received, but not largely +attended. It was withdrawn near the end of its fourth +week.</p> + +<p>The critics were unanimous in praising it. Its dialogue +was hailed as the ideal dialogue of contemporary comedy. +The characterization, the humor of the lines, the universality +of the theme, its wonderfully logical and convincing +development all received their due meed of praise. It +was compared to the comedies of Clyde Fitch, of Oscar +Wilde, of Sheridan, and of Congreve—yes, actually Congreve! +Harry smiled when he read that, and renewed his +resolution never to let the comparison apply in a personal +way. But to be seriously compared to Congreve, +not Congreve the man but Congreve the author—! The +thought made him fairly dizzy.</p> + +<p>But what took the eye of the critics, the best and +soberest of them, that is, more than anything else was the +mixture of the humorous and serious shown in the choice +of the theme and its development. "To treat the element +of humor," wrote one critic, "not as a colored glass through +which to look at all life, as in farce, nor as a refreshing +contrast to its serious side, as in the 'comic relief' of a +host of plays from the Elizabethans down to the present +day, but as part and parcel of the very essence of life +itself, co-existent with its solemnity, inseparable from its +difficulty, companion and friend to its unsolvable mystery; +to put people in such a mood that they can laugh at the +greatest things in their own lives, neither bitterly nor to +give themselves Dutch courage, but for the pure, life<span class="pagenum">[194]</span> +giving, illuminating exaltation of laughing—this, we take +it, is the whole essence and mission of comedy. And this—we +say it boldly and in no spirit of empty flattery—is +the type of comedy shown in Mr. Wimbourne's play."</p> + +<p>It is not hard to see how such words should bring joy +to the heart of Harry and smiles of admiration and respect +to the faces of his friends, from Leo Bachmann right +up to Aunt Selina. But they did not bring people to the +theater. For the first three performances the attendance +was satisfactory; then it began steadily to fall off and by +the end of the first week it became merely a question of +how long it could survive.</p> + +<p>Leo Bachmann was, curiously enough, the least affected +of all the theater crowd by the poor success of the work. +He viewed the discouraging box office reports with an untroubled +smile, and cheerfully began rehearsals for a new +play. "Never you mind, my boy," he told Harry, "I +knew I should not make money off your play. I told you +so in the beginning. Never you mind! That is not your +fault. It's just the way things go. I have only one word +to say to you, and that is—write!" Even in his discouragement +Harry could not help feeling that Mr. Bachmann +was strangely calm and cheerful.</p> + +<p>Within a week from the end of the play's run a curious +thing happened. A visiting English dramatist and critic, +a confirmed self-advertiser, but a writer and thinker of +unquestioned brilliancy, and a wit, withal, of international +reputation, was greatly struck by the play and wrote an +unsolicited letter about it which appeared in the pages of +a leading daily.</p> + +<p>"No more striking proof," wrote this self-appointed +defender of Harry, "could be offered of the consanguinal +intellectual stupidity of the Anglo-Saxon race than I received +at a performance of Mr. Harold Wimbourne's play +'Chances' at the —— Theater last night. For the first +time during my stay in this country as I looked over the +almost empty stalls and realized that this, incomparably +the best play running in New York, was also the worst attended, +I could have fancied myself actually in my own +country.</p> + +<p>"What are the lessons or qualities in Mr. Wimbourne's +play which the American people cannot stomach? I suppose, +when all is said and done, he has committed the unpardonable<span class="pagenum">[195]</span> +offense of giving them a little of their own +medicine. He has rammed down their throats some few +corollaries of the Calvinistic doctrines for which the ancestors +of the very people who stay away from his play +sailed an uncharted sea, conquered a wilderness, and spilt +their blood to champion against a usurping power. The +Pilgrim fathers founded the United States of America in +order to publish the greatness of God and the littleness +of man. Their descendants either ignore or condemn one +of their number because he does not extol the greatness +of man and the littleness of God. Because Mr. Wimbourne +ventures to show, in a very mild—if very artistic and +compelling way—how slight a hold man has on the moving +force of life, God, the universe, a group of atoms—whatever +you choose to call the world—he becomes a pariah. +He has escaped easily after his first offense, but it will go +hard with the Anglo-Saxon character if he is not stoned in +the streets after the next one. America is a great and +rich country; what does it care about religion or philosophy +or art or any of that poppycock? Serious and devout +thinking simply <i>are not done</i>; it has become as great a +solecism to mention the name of the Deity in society—except +as the hero of a humorous story—as to talk about +Kant or Hegel. Americans have lost interest in that sort +of stuff; they do not need it. Why, now that they have +become physically strong, should they bother about the +unsubstantial kind of strength known as moral to which +they were forced to resort when they were physically weak? +Why, having become mountain lions, should they continue +to practise what upheld them when they were fieldmice?</p> + +<p>"Of course I should not have made such a point in +favor of a play if it were not, technically and artistically +speaking, a very good play. The truth when it is badly +spoken hardly merits more attention than if it were not +spoken at all. But 'Chances' is as beautifully constructed +as it was conceived; it is a play that I should be proud to +have written myself. Its technical perfections have already +been praised, even by that class of people least calculated +to appreciate them; I mean the critics. I will, +therefore, mention but one small example, which I believe, +in the presence of so many greater beauties, has been overlooked; +namely, the short dialogue near the end of the +first act in which Frances, in perhaps half a page of conversation<span class="pagenum">[196]</span> +with the man to whom she is then engaged, realizes +that her engagement is empty, that she has no heart +for the man, that a new way of looking at love has transcended +her life;—realizes all this, and betrays it to the +audience without in the smallest degree giving herself +away to the man with whom she is talking or saying a word +in violation of the probability of their conversation. Such +a feat in dramaturgy is, perhaps, appreciable only to those +who have tried to write plays themselves. Still, whom +does that not include?</p> + +<p>"But I do not expect Americans to appreciate artistic +perfection any more than I expect Englishmen to. The +shame, the disgrace to Americans in not appreciating this +play lies in the fact that it is fundamentally American; +American in its characters, in its setting, and above all in +its motive principles, which are the principles to which +America owes its very existence."</p> + +<p>Such opinions, appearing over a famous signature, could +not but revive interest and talk about its subject, and the +play experienced a slight boom during the last few days +of its existence. Its run, indeed, would have been extended +but for the fact that Bachmann had made all the +arrangements for its successor and advertised the date +of its appearance. Altogether the incident tended to show +that if the play was a failure it was at least a dynamic +failure, indicative of future success.</p> + +<p>Harry was as little elated by the praise of the foreigner +as he was cast down by the condemnation of his countrymen. +His demeanor all along, ever since the day of his +interview with Miss Bensel, had been characterized by an +observant calmness. He dissuaded as many of his relations +and friends as he could from being present at the +first performance of the play and ignored those who insisted +on being there. He himself occupied an obscure +seat in the gallery and listened with the greatest attention +to the comments of those about him. He thereby began to +form an idea of what the general public thought of his +work; knowledge which, as he himself realized, would be +of inestimable value if he could put it to use in his next +play.</p> + +<p>A letter Harry wrote to his Uncle Giles just after the +play was taken off expresses his state of mind at this time. +"'Chances' has gone by the board," he wrote; "that<span class="pagenum">[197]</span> +splendid American institution, the Tired Business Man, +would have none of it, and it has ceased to be Drama and +has become merely Literature. But I have learned a lot +during its brief existence, and this knowledge I shall, +please God, make use of if I ever write another play. +Which is a mere figure of speech, as I have started one +already.</p> + +<p>"I have learned the point of view of the Tired Business +Man. That was what I wanted to know from the +very first—not what the critics thought. They could do +no more than say it was good, and I knew that already. +And what the T. B. M. said was substantially, that my +play was nice enough, but that it had no <i>punch</i>. I don't +know whether you recognize that expression or not; it is +one of those vivid American slang words that English +people are so fascinated by. People thought the play +wasn't interesting enough, and that is the simple truth +about it. Therefore it wasn't a good play. For my idea +is that to be really good a play must hold the stage, at +least at the time it is written. And if we are ever going to +build up such a thing as the 'American drama' our critics +are continually bellowing about, we've got to begin with +our foundations. We can't create a full-fledged literary +drama and then go to work and make the people like it; +we've got to begin with what the people like and build up +our drama on that. That's the way all the great 'dramas' +of history have grown up—the Greek, the French, the +Spanish and the Elizabethan; and it is interesting to notice +that the drama that came nearest to being the product +of a mere literary class, the French, is the weakest of the +lot and is standing the test of time worst of them all.</p> + +<p>"I may never write a more successful play than +'Chances'; I may never get another play on the stage at +all. But one thing I am sure of; I shall never offer another +play to the public without being convinced that it +is a better stage play than 'Chances.'"</p> + +<p>Of course that a mere boy, fresh from college, with no +practical experience of the stage whatever, should get a +play produced at all was an unusual and highly gratifying +thing. Harry became quite a lion that autumn, in a +small way. He remained in New York till after the play +was taken off, living with the James Wimbournes, and was +the guest of honor at one or two of Aunt Cecilia's rather<span class="pagenum">[198]</span> +dull but eminently important dinners. He became the +object of the attention of reporters, and also of that section +of metropolitan <i>literati</i> who live in duplex apartments +and wear strings of pearls in their hair and can always tell +Schubert from Schumann. He was especially delighted +with these, and determined some day to write a play or a +novel portraying the inner side of their painstaking spirituality.</p> + +<p>He saw a good deal of James during those weeks; more +than he had seen of him since their college days. James +had been rather sparing of his week-end visits to New +Haven since moving to New York; Harry noticed that. +He was sorry, for he now found James a great help and +stimulus. He discovered that a walk or a motor ride with +James between the hours of five and seven would obliterate +the effects of the caviar-est of luncheons and the pinkest +of teas and give him strength with which to face evenings +in the company of people who appeared unable even to +perspire anything less exalted than pure Pierian fluid.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's nice to meet some one who doesn't smell of +Russian cigarettes," he observed one day as he took his +place in the long, low, slightly wicked-looking machine in +which James whiled away most of his leisure moments. +"Do you know, sometimes I actually rush into the nursery +at Aunt Cecilia's and kiss the youngest and bread-and-butteryest +child there, just to get the Parnassian +odors out of my lungs. Next to a rather slobby child, +though, I prefer the society of an ex-All-American quarter-back."</p> + +<p>"Half," said James.</p> + +<p>"Oh, were you? Well, you don't smell of anything +æsthetic-er than the camphor balls you put that coat away +for the summer in.... James, if you go round another +corner at eighty miles an hour I shall leap out and telephone +for a policeman!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right. They all know me, anyway. +They know I don't take risks."</p> + +<p>"Hm.... Well, it's all over for me next week, thank +Heaven. I'm going back to Aunt Selina and Sunday +night suppers, and I <i>shall</i> be glad!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I will say," said James slowly and carefully, +with the air of one determined to do the most meticulous<span class="pagenum">[199]</span> +justice, "that you have kept your head through it all +pretty well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not hard, when you come right to it," said +Harry, laughing. "Of course there are moments when I +wonder if I'm not really greater than Shakespeare. And +it does seem funny to realize that the rising genius, the +person people are all talking about, and poor little Me +are the same. But then I remember what a failure my +play was, and shrivel into the poor graduate student.... After +I've written a successful play, though, I won't answer +for myself. And after I've written 'Hamlet,' as +I mean to some day, I shall be simply unbearable. You +won't own me then."</p> + +<p>"Watch-chain round your neck?" suggested James.</p> + +<p>"Oh, worse than that—diamond bracelets! And corsets—if +necessary. I saw a man wearing both the other day, +I really did."</p> + +<p>"A man?"</p> + +<p>"Well, an actor. That's the sort of thing they run to +now-a-days. Long hair and general sloppiness are quite +out of date—among the really ultra ones, that is."</p> + +<p>"Well," said James, "I give you permission to be as +ultra as you like, after you've written 'Hamlet.'"</p> + +<p>"That helps, of course. I daresay I'm lacking in proper +seriousness, but it seems to me that if the choice were +offered me, right now, between being the author of 'Hamlet' +and being also an ultra, and not writing 'Hamlet' +and staying as I am, I would choose the latter. I don't +know what my point of view may be at some future time, +but that's what it is now, or at least I think it is. And +after all, nobody can get nearer the truth than saying +what he thinks his point of view at any given moment is, +can he, James?"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[200]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_III2">CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p class="h3">NOT TRIASSIC, CERTAINLY, BUT NEARLY AS OLD</p> + +<p>To return again to the events attendant on the "Beggar's +Opera." Harry slept late the morning after +the performance, and when he awoke it was with a mind +rested and vacant except for an intangible conviction that +something pleasant had happened. He yawned and +stretched delectably, and in a leisurely sort of way set +about discovering just what it was.</p> + +<p>"Let's see, now, what can it be?" he argued pleasantly. +"Oh, yes, the 'Beggar's Opera.' It's all over, thank +Heaven, and it went off creditably well. The wigs arrived +in time and the prison set didn't fall over, and +nobody lost a cue—so you could notice it." He lay back +for a moment to give full rein to the enjoyment of these +reflections. "There was something else, though." His +mind languidly returned to the pursuit, as a dog crosses +a room stretching at every step. "I'm sure there was +something else...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, of course," he said at last; "I remember now. +Madge Elliston."</p> + +<p>If, say, ten seconds sufficed for enjoyment of the recollection +of the "Beggar's Opera," how long should you +say would be necessary for the absorption of the truth contained +in those two words? A lifetime? An honest answer; +we won't undertake to say it's not the right one. +Harry, at least, seemed to be of that opinion.</p> + +<p>"After all, though, it would be rather absurd to spend +a whole lifetime in bed," he observed, after devoting +twenty minutes to the subject. Then he jumped out of +bed and pulled up the shade.</p> + +<p>Vague flittings of poetry and song buzzed through his +brain. One little phrase in particular kept humming behind +his ears; a scrap from a song he had heard Madge +herself sing often enough:—"What shall I do to show +how much I love her?" The thing rather annoyed him +by its insistence. He stood by the open window and inhaled<span class="pagenum">[201]</span> +a few deep breaths of the quickening March air. +"What shall I do to show how much I love her!" sang +the air as it rushed up his nose and became breath and +out again and became carbon dioxide. "I really don't +know, I'm sure," he answered, impatiently breaking off +and starting on some exercises he performed on mornings +when he felt particularly energetic and there was time. +Their rhythm was fascinating; he found he could do them +in two different ways:—What shall—I do—to show—how +much—I love her, or, What shall I—do to show—how +much I—? "Oh, hang it!" He suddenly lost all interest +in them. With one impatient, dramatic movement +he tore off the upper half of his pajamas, ripping off three +buttons as he did so. With another slightly more complicated +but even more dramatic, he extricated himself from +the lower half, breaking the string in the process.</p> + +<p>"Ts! ts! More work for somebody!" he said, making +the sound in the roof of his mouth indicative of reproof. +He kicked the damaged garments lightly onto the bed and +sauntered into the adjoining bathroom.</p> + +<p>He turned on the water in the bathtub and stood watching +it a moment as it gushed out in its noisy enthusiasm. +"WhatshallIdotoshowhowmuchIloveher?" it inquired uncouthly. +"Oh, do stop bothering me," said Harry, turning +disgustedly away; "I've got to shave."</p> + +<p>He lathered his face and took the razor in his right hand, +while with his left he delicately lifted the end of his nose, +so as to make a taut surface of his upper lip. It was a +trick he had much admired in barbers. "Somehow it's +not so effective when you do it to yourself," he said regretfully, +watching the effect in the mirror. It helped his +shaving, however, and shaving helped his thinking. He +was able to think quite clearly and seriously, in fact, in +spite of the roaring of the water nearby.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I might keep away from her for a while," +he said presently.</p> + +<p>That really seemed a good idea; the more he thought of +it the better he liked it. "I'll go down and stay with +Trotty," he said as he scraped the last strip of lather off +his face, remembering how fervently Trotty, recovering +from a severe illness on the Trotwood estate in North +Carolina, had begged him to come down and cheer his solitude. +"And I won't come back until I know," he continued. +"One must be sure. Absolutely."<span class="pagenum">[202]</span></p> + +<p>He plunged into his bath and the stimulus of the cold +water set his brain working faster. "I'll start this very +morning. Let's see; I've missed the ten-thirty, but I can +catch the twelve-three, if I look alive, and get the three-fifty +from New York.... No, on second thoughts, I'd +better have lunch and pack comfortably and start this +afternoon. That'll be better; it never does to be in too +much of a hurry!"</p> + +<p>It never did; he became even more convinced of that +when he remembered at breakfast the many post-mortem +arrangements to be made in connection with the "Beggar's +Opera." However, he spent an active afternoon in completing +what he could of these and delegating the remainder +to subordinates, with the calm explanation that +he was called away on business, and started for southern +climes the next morning.</p> + +<p>As soon as he had telegraphed Trotty and was actually +on his way he became inclined to fear he had not done +the right thing. It was so confoundedly quiet down there; +he would have nothing to do but think about her. He +should have plunged himself into some all-absorbing activity; +he should have traveled or taken a nine-till-five +clerkship or gone to New York for a while. This suspicion +continued through his journey and even survived, +though in a mangled form, Trotty's enthusiastic welcome +of him. But after he had passed a few days among those +pine-clad solitudes he began to see that he had done the +wisest possible thing. Trotty was required to be out-of-doors +practically the whole time, and the two drove endless +miles in a dogcart through the quickening oaks and +pines, or lay on fragrant carpets of needles, content with +mere sensuous enjoyment of the wind and sun, sky and +landscape.</p> + +<p>Somehow these things brought calm and conviction to +the heart of Harry. They seemed to rest and purge his +soul from the fatigues of the past months; the anxiety and +effort of the autumn before, the pangs of composition that +had marked the winter, the hurry and worry to which +these had given place during the last few weeks, and to +give coherence and sanctity to the tremendous discovery of +that Friday night. He could not tell why it was that the +sight of a flock of feathery clouds scurrying across a blue +sky or the sound of warm wind among pine needles should<span class="pagenum">[203]</span> +work this change in him, but it was so. "You're quite +right," they seemed to say; "perfectly right. The thing +has come, and it's not distracting or disturbing or frightening, +as you feared it might be; it's just simple and great +and unspeakably sweet. And you were quite right to +come to us to find out about it; you can learn among us a +great deal better than in all that hectic scrambling up +north. So lay aside every thought and worry and ambition +and open your whole heart and soul to us while we tell you +how to take this, the greatest thing that ever was, is, or +shall be!"</p> + +<p>Trotty was also a source of comfort to him; Trotty had +lost nothing of his former singular faculty of always rubbing +him the right way. Not that either of them made any +open or covert allusion to Harry's state of mind, for they +did not, but there was something particularly reassuring, +something strangely in tune with the great natural forces +about them in his silent presence. For they would drive +or read or simply lie about together for hours without +speaking, after the manner of certain types of people who +become very intimate with each other.</p> + +<p>Whether these silences were to Trotty merely the intimate +silences of yore or whether they had taken on for +him also something of the character that colored them for +Harry is not particularly clear; it is probable that he +guessed something, but no more. As much might be gathered, +at least, from the one occasion upon which their conversation +even touched on anything vital.</p> + +<p>This occurred on the eve of Harry's departure. For +of course he had to leave some time. The birds and trees +and sky were all very well for a while, but after three +weeks the thought forced itself into his mind that any +more time spent among them would smack of laziness if +not of cowardice.</p> + +<p>"Trotty," said he, "I'm going north on the twelve-fifty +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Trotty. "Bad news?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"In love?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Oh." A silence of some length ensued.</p> + +<p>"Carson?" asked Trotty at last.</p> + +<p>"No, no—Elliston."<span class="pagenum">[204]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh.... Well, here's luck."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I need it."</p> + +<p>In this matter-of-fact, almost coarse form was cast the +most intimate conversation the two ever had together.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Harry determined to "have it out," as he mentally expressed +it, with Madge as soon as possible, and went to call +on her the very first evening after his return. As he +walked in the front door he caught sight of her ahead of +him crossing the hall with a sheaf of papers under her +arm, and immediately his heart began thumping in a way +that fairly shocked him. Her appearance was so wonderfully +everyday, so utterly at variance with the way his +silly heart had been going on about her these weeks! He +felt as if he had been intending to propose to an archangel +who happened to be also a duchess.</p> + +<p>"Hello! This is an unexpected pleasure! I thought +you were away shooting things." Her manner was +friendly enough; she was obviously glad, as well as surprised, +to see him. He murmured something explanatory, +which apparently satisfied her, for she went on: "I'm +glad you're back, anyway, because you're just in time to +help me with my arithmetic papers. Come along in."</p> + +<p>He sat down almost in despair, with the idea of merely +making an evening call and postponing more important +matters to a time when he should be better inured to the +effects of her presence. But as he sat and watched her as +she talked to him and looked over her arithmetic papers +he felt his courage gradually return. Her physical presence +was simply irresistible, distant and difficult of approach +as she seemed.</p> + +<p>"Do tell all about North Carolina," said Madge; "it's +a delightful state, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, delightful."</p> + +<p>"So I understand. My idea of it is a fashionable place +where people go to recover from something, but I suppose +there's more to it than that. The only other thing I know +about it is geological; a remnant of physical geography, +ages ago. I seem to remember something about triassic.... What +is your North Carolina like, fashionable or +triassic?"</p> + +<p>"Not triassic, certainly."<span class="pagenum">[205]</span></p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not. It's very nice triassic, though; +coal, and all sorts of lovely things, as I remember it. +You must have been fashionable. Asheville, and that sort +of thing."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I was helping Trotty to recover from something."</p> + +<p>"Oh, really? What?"</p> + +<p>"Pneumonia. Also pleurisy."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I didn't know anything about that; I thought +you went simply to shoot things. So Jack Trotwood has +had pleural pneumonia, has he? That's a horrid combination; +poor Uncle Rudolph Scharndorst died of it. You +often do if you have it hard enough and are old enough, +or drink enough...."</p> + +<p>"Well, Trotty doesn't," said Harry; "so he didn't."</p> + +<p>"My dear man, neither did Uncle Rudolph," rejoined +Miss Elliston. "That wasn't what I meant; he just had +it so hard he died of it—that was all.—How is he getting +on?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't say, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"I mean Trotty, of course! Poor Uncle Rudolph!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, indeed.—Madge!" he went on, gathering +courage for a break, "I didn't come here to-night to talk +about Uncle Rudolph!"</p> + +<p>Miss Elliston raised her eyebrows ever so little and +went on, with unabated cheerfulness: "We were talking +about Jack Trotwood, I thought. However, here's this +arithmetic; you can help me with that. Do you know +anything about percentage? It's not so hard, when you +really put your mind to it. Given the principal and interest, +to find the rate—that's easy enough. Useful, too; +if you know how much a person has a year all you have +to do is to find what it's invested in and look it up on +the financial page, and you can tell just what their capital +is! It's quite simple!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, perfectly simple."</p> + +<p>"Let's see—Florrie Vicars; did you ever hear of any +one whose name was really Florrie before?... Florrie +gets a C—she generally does. That isn't on a scale of +A B C, it stands for 'correct.' Did you ever hear of anything +so delightfully Victorian? That's the way we do +things at Miss Snellgrove's.... Sadie Jones—wouldn't<span class="pagenum">[206]</span> +you know that a girl called Sadie Jones who wrote like +that—look at those sevens—would have frizzy yellow hair +and sticky-out front teeth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, without any doubt."</p> + +<p>"Well, as a matter of fact she has straight black hair +and a pure Grecian profile and is altogether the most beautiful +creature you ever saw!... Marjorie Hamlin—she +never could add two and two straight.... Jennie Fairbanks...."</p> + +<p>Harry realized more sharply than before that ordinary +conversational paths would not lead where he wanted to +go; he must break through the hedge and he must break +with courage and determination.</p> + +<p>"Madge!" he burst out again, "I didn't come here to +talk about little girls' arithmetic papers, either! I am +here to-night to declare a state of—" He stopped, unable, +when the moment came, to treat the matter with even +that amount of lightness. He had been over-confident!</p> + +<p>"Of what?" asked Madge, looking up from her arithmetic +and smiling brightly yet distantly at him. There +was just a chance that she might shame him back into mere +conversation, even at this late moment.</p> + +<p>"You know, perfectly well!" He sprang from his chair +and took a step or two toward her. The thing was done +now. A minute ago they had been occupied in trivial chatter; +now they were launched on the momentous topic.</p> + +<p>"Madge, don't pretend not to understand, at any rate!" +He was by her side on the sofa now. "I used to think +that when I was—when I was in love I should be able to +joke and laugh about it as I have about every earthly +thing in life. I thought that if love couldn't be turned +into a joke it wasn't worth having. But it isn't that way, +at all!... Oh, Madge, Madge, don't you see how it is +with me?"</p> + +<p>"Dear Harry, indeed I do!" said Madge impulsively, +feeling a great wave of pity and unhappiness swell in her +bosom. "Indeed I do!"</p> + +<p>"Then don't you think that you could ever ... Madge, +until you tell me you could possibly—feel that way—toward +me, it's Hell, that's what it is, Hell!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed it is, Harry; that's just what it is!"</p> + +<p>"Then you think you can't—love me?"</p> + +<p>"No—God forgive me, I can't!"<span class="pagenum">[207]</span></p> + +<p>He sat still for a moment, looking quietly at her from his +sad brown eyes in a way she thought would break her +heart. "I was afraid so," he said at last; "I suppose I +really knew it, all along. It's been my fault."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Harry," she burst out, "if you only knew how +much I wanted to! If you only knew how terrible it is +to see you sit there and say that, and not be able to say +yes! I like you so much, and you are such a dear altogether, +and you're so wonderful about this—oh, why, why, +in Heaven's name, can't I love you?"</p> + +<p>"But Madge, surely you must be mistaken! How can +you talk that way and not have—the real feeling? Madge, +you must be in love with me, only you don't know it!"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I've said to myself, time after time—I've +lain awake whole nights telling myself that. But it +isn't so, it isn't! I can't deceive myself into thinking so +and I won't deceive you.... I just—can't—love you, because +I'm not good enough! Oh, it is so terrible!..." +Her voice suddenly failed; she sank to her knees on the +floor and buried her head among the cushions of the sofa +in an uncontrollable fit of weeping.</p> + +<p>For a moment Harry was overcome by a desire to seize +that grief-stricken little figure in his arms and kiss away +her ridiculous tears. A second thought, however, showed +the fruitlessness of that; small comfort to his arms if their +souls could not embrace! Instead he quietly arose from +his seat and shut the door, which seemed the most sensible +thing to do under the circumstances. He then walked +over to the piano and stood leaning on it, head on hands, +thoughtfully and silently watching the diminishing sobs +of Madge.</p> + +<p>When these at last reached the vanishing point their +author turned suddenly. Harry continued to stare quietly +back at her for a second or two and then slowly and +solemnly winked his right eye. Madge emitted a strange +sound between a laugh and a sob, turned her face away +again and plied her handkerchief briskly.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, of course," she said presently, "thinking +of nothing but indulging my own silly feelings, as usual. +And you, poor Harry, who really are capable of feeling, +just stand there like Patience on a monument.... Harry, +why don't you swear at me, kick me? do something to make +it easier for me?..." She picked herself up, walked<span class="pagenum">[208]</span> +over toward the piano and laid her hands on its smooth +black surface in a caressing sort of way. The piano had +been given to her by her Aunt Tizzy and she loved it very +much, but she did not think of it at all now. "Harry," +she began again, "Harry, dear, I'll tell you what we'll +do—I'll marry you, if you like, anyway.... I'll make +you a lovely wife; I'll do anything in the wide world to +be a comfort to you, just to show you how much I would +love to love you if I could...."</p> + +<p>Harry, still looking gravely at her, shook his head slowly. +"It would never do, Madge," he said; "never in the world. +We must wait until we can start fair. You see that?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "I suppose I do—from your point of +view."</p> + +<p>"No—from <i>our</i> point of view."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes.... It is just a little bit hard, though, that +the first offer of marriage I ever made should be turned +down."</p> + +<p>Harry laughed, loudly and suddenly. "That's right!" +he said; "that's <i>you</i>! Not that self-denunciatory thing +of a minute ago. Don't ever be self-denunciatory again, +please. Just remember there's nothing in the world that +can possibly be your fault, and <i>then</i> you'll be all +right!... Now then, we can talk. I suppose," he went +on, with a change of tone, "you like me quite well, just as +much as ever, and all that; only when it comes to the +question of whether you could ever be happy for one instant +without me you are forced to admit that you could. +Is that it?"</p> + +<p>Madge nodded her head. "That's just about it. For a +long time—oh, but what's the use in <i>that</i>...?"</p> + +<p>"No, go ahead."</p> + +<p>"Well, one or two people have been in love with me before—or +thought they were, and though that disturbed me +at times, it never amounted to much. In fact I thought +the whole thing rather fun, as I remember it—Heaven +forgive me for it! But then you came along and after a +while—several months ago—it became borne in on me that +you were going to—to act the same way, and I immediately +realized that it was going to be much, <i>much</i> more serious +than the others. And I—well, I had a cobblestone for a +heart, and knew it. So I tried my best to keep you off the +scent, in every way I could, knowing what a crash there<span class="pagenum">[209]</span> +would be if it came to <i>that</i>.... But I never knew what +I missed till to-night, when you showed me what a magnificent +creature a person really in love is, and what a +loathsome, detestable, contemptible creature—"</p> + +<p>"Come, come, remember my instructions," interpolated +Harry.</p> + +<p>"—a person incapable of love is. And it just knocked +me flat for the moment."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Harry thoughtfully; "I see."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," continued Madge, "it would have been +easier all around if I didn't like you so much. I could +conceive of marriage without love, if the person was thoroughly +nice and I was quite sure there was no chance of my +loving any one else, just because it's nicer to be rich than +poor, but with you—no!... And on the other hand, I +daresay I <i>might</i> have come nearer falling in love with you +if you hadn't been—such a notoriously good match ... you +never realized that, perhaps?... I just couldn't +bear the thought of giving <i>you</i> anything but the real thing, +if I gave you anything—that's what it comes to!"</p> + +<p>"Madge, what I don't see is how you can go on talking +that way and feeling that way and not be in love with me! +Not much, of course, but just a teeny bit!... Don't you +really think your conscience is making—well, making a +fool of you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Harry—please! I can't explain it, but I really +am quite, <i>quite</i> sure! No one could be gladder than I if +it were otherwise!"</p> + +<p>"One person could, I fancy. Well, the thing to do now +is to decide what's to be done to make you love me.... For +that is the next thing, you know," he went on, in +reply to an inarticulate expression of dissent from Madge. +"You don't suppose I'm going to leave this house to-night +and never think of you again, do you? You don't suppose +I'm ever going to give up loving you and trying to +make you love me, as long as we two shall live and after?"</p> + +<p>"I thought," murmured Madge, apparently to her handkerchief. +The rest was almost inaudible, but Harry succeeded +in catching the phrase "some nice girl."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot!!" he exclaimed vociferously. Then he sank +down on the piano bench, rested his elbows on the keyboard +cover and burst into paroxysms of laughter. The idea of +his leaving Madge and going out in search of "some nice<span class="pagenum">[210]</span> +girl"! Madge, still leaning on the edge of the piano, +watched him with some apprehension, occasionally smothering +a reluctant smile in her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Madge," he said at last, wiping his eyes, +"but that's probably the funniest remark ever made!... A +large, shapeless person, with yellow hair and a knitted +shawl ... a sort of German type, who'd take the most +wonderful care of my socks ... with a large, soft kiss, +like ... like a hot cross bun!..." He was off again.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Harry, don't be absurd! Hush, you'll wake +Mama! Harry, you're impossible!" Madge herself was +laughing at the portrait, for all that. It was some minutes +before either of them could return to the subject in hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll love me all right, in time!" That laugh +had cleared the atmosphere tremendously; it seemed much +easier to talk freely and sensibly now. "Of course you +don't think so now, and that's quite as it should be; but +time makes one look at things differently."</p> + +<p>"No, no, you mustn't count on that. If I don't now, I +can't ever possibly! Really—"</p> + +<p>"What, not love me? Impossible! Look at me!" He +became serious and went on: "Madge, granting that you +don't care a hang for me now, can you look into your inmost +heart and say you're perfectly sure you never, never +could get to care for me, some time in the dim future of +years?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't know," replied Madge inconclusively.</p> + +<p>"There you are—you know perfectly well you can't! +However, I don't intend to bother you about that now. +What I want to suggest now is that we had better be apart +for a while, now that we know how things stand between +us—not see anything of each other for a long time. That's +the best way. That's how I fell in love with you—how I +became sure about it, at any rate. That was why I went +to North Carolina, of course."</p> + +<p>Madge thought seriously for a moment or two. What he +said seemed reasonable. If he did go entirely out of her +head after a few months' absence, he would be out of it +for good and all, and there was the end of it. Whereas, in +the unlikely event of his <i>not</i> going out of her head, but going +into her heart, she would be much surer of herself than +if under the continual stimulus and charm of his presence.<span class="pagenum">[211]</span></p> + +<p>"Well," she said at length. "But how will you arrange +it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall simply go away—to-morrow. Abroad. You'll +be here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What do you do this summer?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure—that is, I had thought of going to Bar +Harbor, with the Gilsons—as governess. They have a +dear little girl."</p> + +<p>Harry made a gesture of impatience. "I suppose that's +as good as anything. If you'll be happy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, perfectly. I should enjoy that, actually, more +than anything else. Mama'll be with Aunt Tizzy. I think +I'll do it, now. I'd rather be doing something."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll meet here, then, at the end of the summer, +in September. I suppose we'd better not write. Unless, +that is, you see light before the time is up. Then you're +to let me know—that's part of the bargain. Just wire to +my bankers the single word, 'Elliston.' I'll know."</p> + +<p>"On one condition—that you do the same if you change +your mind the other way!"</p> + +<p>"Madge, what idiocy!"</p> + +<p>"No, no; you must agree. Why shouldn't you be given +a chance of changing your mind, as well as I?"</p> + +<p>"Very well; it's probably the easiest bargain any one +ever made.... Well, that's all, I think." They both +paused, wondering what was to come next. The matter +did seem to be fairly well covered. He made as if to go.</p> + +<p>"Oh, one thing—your work!" Madge apparently was +suffering a slight relapse of self-denunciation. "How absolutely +like me, I never thought of that!"</p> + +<p>"I can work abroad as well as here. I can work anywhere +better than here—you must see that."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so." She fixed her eyes on the carpet. A +hundred thousand things were teeming in her brain, clamoring +to be said, but she turned them all down as "absurd" +and contented herself at last with: "You sail immediately, +then?"</p> + +<p>"Saturday, I expect. To the Mediterranean. I shall +leave town to-morrow, though; you won't be bothered by +me again!"</p> + +<p>"You must give yourself plenty of time to pack. Be +sure—" she checked herself, apparently embarrassed.<span class="pagenum">[212]</span></p> + +<p>"Be sure what?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—none of my business."</p> + +<p>"Yes, please! My dying request!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I was going to tell you to be sure to take plenty +of warm things for the voyage. Men are so silly about +such things!"</p> + +<p>As with Madge a minute ago, all sorts of things shouted +to be done and said in his brain, but he shut the door +firmly on all of them and replied quietly, "All right, I +will," and started toward the door.</p> + +<p>She could not let it go at that, after all. Before the +door had swung to behind him she had rushed up and +caught it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed; "if it does—if it should +come off, wouldn't it be simply—Nirvana, and that sort of +thing?"</p> + +<p>"Madge," replied Harry solemnly from the doorstep, +"it will make Nirvana look like the Black Hole of Calcutta!"</p> + +<p>If there rose in her mind one pang of remorse for her +behavior that evening, one suggestion of a desire to rush +out on the doorstep and fling herself into his arms and tell +him what a fool she was, it was reduced to subjection before +she had closed the door and entirely smothered by the time +she reached the parlor again.</p> + +<p>"No," she told herself quite firmly as she rearranged the +tumbled sofa cushions, "that would never do—that was +part of the Bargain." Just what was part of the bargain +or exactly what the bargain was she did not bother to +specify. "No, I must wait," she continued, trying the +locks of the windows; "I must wait, a long time, a long, +<i>long</i> time. Till next September, in fact. One always has +to wait to find out; nothing but time can show. And of +course one must be <i>sure</i>"—she turned out the gas—"first. +<i>Perfectly</i> sure—beyond all manner of doubt and question. +Both on my own account"—she reached up with considerable +effort and turned out the hall light—"and Harry's."</p> + +<p>"No," she amended as she felt with her foot for the +first step of the dark staircase; "not on my account. On +Harry's."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[213]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV2">CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p class="h3">WILD HORSES AND CHAMPAGNE</p> + +<p>James Wimbourne always had the reputation of +being an exceptionally strong-willed person. None of +his friends would have been in the least surprised to see +him come so triumphantly through the first real test that +life offered him, if they had known anything about it. Not +one of them did know anything about it; no human being +ever vaguely surmised that he renounced—the word is a +big one but the act was worthy of it—Beatrice in favor of +his brother. Beatrice may have suspected it at first, but +her suspicion, if it existed at all, died an easy and natural +death. Harry suspected it least of all, which was just +what James wanted. The one reason why the renunciation +did not turn out entirely as James intended was one +over which he had no control, namely, the simple fact that +Harry was never in love with Beatrice.</p> + +<p>But as a matter of fact one must look deeper into James' +character to discover how it was that, long before the +completion of the four years that the story has recently +skipped, James was able to think of Beatrice without +even a flutter of the heart. Deeply imbedded in his nature +there lay a motive force to which his will power, as +other people knew it, was merely the servant. This may +perhaps be most safely described as James' attitude toward +Harry. It is not easy to describe it. It does not do to +lay stress upon the elements of brotherly affection, desire +to protect, unselfishness and so forth, which made it up; +those things all appear to smack of priggishness and cant +and are at variance with the spontaneity of the thing we +are talking about. One might perhaps refer to it as an +ineradicable conviction in the soul of James that Harry +was always to be thought of first.</p> + +<p>Very few people are capable of entertaining such a feeling. +Very few are worthy of it. James had just the sort +of nature in which it is most likely to occur. The Germans +have an apt phrase for this type of nature—<i>schöne <span class="pagenum">[214]</span>Seele</i>. +James had a <i>schöne Seele</i>. He had his tastes and +feelings, of course, like any one else, but the good always +came naturally to him; the bad was abnormal. And this +was why he found it possible and even—after a certain +time—easy to erase from his brain the image of Beatrice, +and set up in its place a vision of Harry and Beatrice +coming into a mutual realization of each other.</p> + +<p>Well, it couldn't have been much of a love in the first +place if it wasn't stronger than brotherly affection, does +some one suggest? some one, we fancy, who is thoroughly +familiar with the poems of the late Robert Browning and +entertains a <i>penchant</i> for the Paolo and Francesca brand +of love. Well, possibly. We confess to our own moments +of Paolomania; every healthy person has them. But we +would call the attention of the aforesaid some one to the +stern fact that love in the United States of America in +the twentieth century is of necessity a different thing from +love in—Rimini, we were going to say, but Rimini is a +real place, with a railroad station and hotel omnibusses, +so let us change it to Paolo-and-Francescadom. Also that +he may have fostered his cult of Paoloism rather at the expense +of his study of the <i>schöne Seele</i>. And we would +also suggest, meeting him on his own ground, that there is +no evidence of Paolo ever having got along very well with +Giovanni. For if he had, of course, that whole beautiful +story might have been spoilt.</p> + +<p>Then, of course, James' remoteness from Beatrice made +it easier for him. Love is primarily a matter of geography, +anyway. With the result that finally, when the month of +June arrived and with it the offer of the New York position, +the danger implied in New York's proximity to New +Haven and Beatrice was not enough to deter James from +closing with it. He accepted the offer, as we know, and +took up his duties in New York in September.</p> + +<p>He took Stodger McClintock with him. Stodger by this +time simply belonged to James, as far as the Emancipation +Proclamation and other legal technicalities permit of one +person belonging to another. He had already obtained +for him a job as office boy in McClellan's and now proposed +to take him east and educate him, with the eventual idea +of turning him into a chauffeur. Stodger seemed delighted +with the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Only," he objected, "please, I'll have to ask me grand-mudder!"<span class="pagenum">[215]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," said James gravely. "You couldn't +go without her consent. I'll have a talk with her myself, if +you like."</p> + +<p>Stodger seemed to think that would not be necessary. +It ended by James taking a small apartment and installing +Stodger as chore boy under the command of an eagle-eyed +Swedish woman, where he could divide his time between +cleaning shoes and attending high school.</p> + +<p>October arrived; it was ten months since James had +seen Beatrice and he decided it was now time to see her +again, to make the sight of her and Harry together chase +the last shreds of regret from his mind. So he wrote to +Aunt Selina announcing that he would spend his next +free Saturday night in New Haven.</p> + +<p>It happened that Aunt Selina had fixed upon that night +to have some people to dinner. When she learned that +James would be one of the number that idea vanished in +smoke and from its ashes, phoenix-like, arose the conception +of making it a real occasion; not dinner, nor people-to-dinner, +but frankly, out-and-out, A Dinner, like that. +She arranged to have eighteen, and sent out invitations +accordingly.</p> + +<p>James did not see Beatrice until nearly dinner-time on the +Saturday night. He came downstairs at five minutes or so +before the hour and discovered Harry standing before the +drawing-room fireplace with Aunt Selina placidly sitting on +a sofa and Beatrice flying about giving a finishing touch +here and there. There was no strain or uneasiness about +the meeting; his "Hello, Beatrice," received by her almost +on the wing as she passed on some slight preprandial mission, +was a model of cordial familiarity. And if she had +not been too preoccupied to let the meeting be in the least +awkward, Harry, gaily chattering from the chimney-piece, +would have been enough to prevent it anyway.</p> + +<p>"Well, here we all are," Harry was saying, "and nobody +here to entertain. Of course if we had all happened +to be a minute or two late there would have been a crowd +of people waiting for us. We won't complain, though; being +too early is the one great social sin. Yes, Aunt Selina +dear, I know people didn't think so in the Hayes administration ... Beatrice, +do stop pecking at those roses; they +look very well indeed. You make me feel as if my hair +wasn't properly brushed, or my shirt-front spotted. This<span class="pagenum">[216]</span> +suspense is telling on me; why doesn't somebody come?"</p> + +<p>Somebody did come almost immediately. Aunt Selina +arose and stood in state in front of the fireplace to receive, +and she made James stand with her, as though as a reward +for returning to the eastern half of the country. He +looked extremely well standing there. There was not one +of the guests that came up and shook his hand that did not +mentally congratulate the house of Wimbourne upon its +present head.</p> + +<p>In some ways, indeed, one might say that those few minutes +formed the very apex of James' life, the point toward +which his whole past appeared to rise and his future to +descend from. There are such moments in men's careers; +moments to which one can point and say, Would that chance +and my own nature had permitted me to stay there for +the rest of my natural days! Surely there can be no +harm in a soul remaining static if the level at which it remains +is sufficiently high. Here was James, for example, +not merely rich, good-looking, clever rather than otherwise, +beloved of his fellow men, but with a very palpable balance +on the side of good in his character. Why could not fate +leave him stranded on that high point for the rest of his +life, radiating goodness and happiness to every one who +came near him? <i>Schöne Seelen</i> are rare enough in this +world anyway; what a pity it is that they should not always +be allowed to shine to the greatest possible advantage! +What a pity it is that so many of them are overwhelmed +with shadows too deep for their struggling rays to pierce; +shadows so thick that the poor little flames are accounted +lucky if they can manage to burn on invisibly in the darkness, +illuminating nothing but their own frail substance, +content merely to live! The thought, indeed, would be +intolerable were it not for certain other considerations; +as for example, that the purest flames burn clearest in the +darkness, or that a candle at midnight is worth more than +an arc-light at noonday.</p> + +<p>Having successfully survived the first meeting, James +found himself performing the duties of the evening with +astonishing ease. He devoted himself chiefly to his right-hand +neighbor, who for some reason was always referred to +as "little" Mrs. Farnsworth. He was not conscious of the +slightest feeling of strain in his conversation; he got on +so well and so easily that he perhaps failed to realize that<span class="pagenum">[217]</span> +his was a real effort, made with the undoubted though unconscious +purpose of keeping his mind off other things. +If he had not succeeded so well, it might have been better. +Certainly he would have been spared the let-down that he +subsequently realized was inevitable. It came about halfway +through dinner, in a general conversation which +started with an account by James of Stodger's grandmother.</p> + +<p>He had made rather a good thing of this. "Of course +I never force his hand," he was explaining; "I never ask +him out and out what her name is and where she lives; I +try to give the impression of believing in her as profoundly +as himself. But it's most amusing to see how cleverly he +dodges the questions I do ask. When we were about to +come east, for instance, I asked him how his grandmother +dared to trust him so far away without seeing me or +knowing anything about me. He replied that she was satisfied +with the description he gave her of me. 'But Stodger,' +I said, 'doesn't she want to see with her own eyes?' +'She's my <i>grand</i>mother, not my mother,' he answered, +which really covered the matter pretty well."</p> + +<p>"But he's never shown you either her or a letter from +her?" asked Mrs. Farnsworth.</p> + +<p>"Of course not—how could he? Oh, I must say I admire +him for it! You see, I found him living practically +in the gutter, sleeping Heaven knows where and eating +Heaven knows what; but through it all he hung onto this +grandmother business as his one last tie with the world +of respectability and good clothes and enough to eat. I +think I never saw a person get so much out of a mere +idea."</p> + +<p>"It shows imagination, certainly," murmured Mrs. +Farnsworth appreciatively, but her remark was drowned +in the question of her right-hand neighbor, who had been +listening to James' narrative and joined in with:</p> + +<p>"Have you ever succeeded in getting any idea of what +the old lady is like? I should think the boy's mental picture +of a grandmother might form a key to his whole character."</p> + +<p>"No," replied James; "I've never asked him anything +very definite. I must find out something more about her +some time."</p> + +<p>"What would the ideal grandmother be like, I wonder?" +queried Mrs. Farnsworth. "Yours or mine, for example?<span class="pagenum">[218]</span> +Mine would be a dear old soul with a white cap and curls, +whom I should always go to visit over Thanksgiving and +eat too much pumpkin pie."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think that comes pretty near my ideal, too," said +James; "provided she didn't want to kiss me too often and +had no other bad habits."</p> + +<p>"How idyllic!" said Mrs. Farnsworth's other neighbor. +"Arcadians, both of you. I confess to something much +more sophisticated; something living in town, say, with a +box at the opera. Mrs. Harriman, it's your turn."</p> + +<p>"Oh, leave me out!" answered Mrs. Harriman, a woman +who still, at forty, gave the impression of being too young +for her husband. "You see, I have a grandmother still +living."</p> + +<p>"So have I," irrepressibly retorted her neighbor, whose +name was Nesmith; "two of them, in fact, and neither is +anything like my ideal! You can feel quite at your ease."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I had to choose, I think I would have one more +like yours, Mr. Nesmith; only very old and dignified, something +of the dowager type, who would tell delightful stories +of Paris under Louis Philippe and Rome under the Popes, +and possibly write some rather indiscreet memoirs. Something +definitely connecting my own time with hers, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, no fair!" interrupted James in unthoughtful +high spirits. "No fair stealing somebody else's grandmother! +You've described Miss Carson's grandmother, +Mrs. Harriman, unless I'm greatly mistaken. Beatrice, +isn't Mrs. Harriman's ideal grandmother suspiciously like +old Lady Moville?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice, who was sitting two places down the table from +Mrs. Harriman, had heard the description; the grandmother +conversation had, in fact, absorbed the attention +of very nearly half the table.</p> + +<p>"Very like, I admit; but Mrs. Harriman is quite welcome +to her.... She is not exactly my ideal of a grandmother...!" She +turned directly toward James and +made the last remark straight at him with a sort of deprecating +smile of comprehension. It was as though she said: +"I say that to <i>you</i> because I know you'll understand!" +It did not amount to much; it was one of the fleeting signs +of mutual comprehension that friends will frequently exchange +in the presence of acquaintances. But unfortunately<span class="pagenum">[219]</span> +the remark and the way it was given were extremely ill-timed +as far as James was concerned. The effect they +caused in him may perhaps be best likened to one of those +sudden fits of faintness that overcome people convalescing +from a long illness; the sort of thing where you are all +right one minute and gasping and calling for brandy the +next, and the stronger you feel beforehand the harder the +faintness seizes you when it comes. If James had been on +the watch for such occurrences, the incident would not have +had half the effect on him that it did. As it was, however, +Beatrice's little speech and glance stirred into momentary +activity much of the feeling that he had been striving all +these months to keep down.</p> + +<p>It was not really much; it did not actually undo the +work of those ten months. James was really convalescent. +But the suddenness of the thing overcame him for the moment +and gave him a feeling approaching that of actual +physical faintness. He saw a glass of champagne standing +at his side and involuntarily reached toward it.</p> + +<p>No one noticed him much. Mrs. Farnsworth was chattering +easily with Mr. Nesmith; conversation had resumed +its normal course. Possibly the knowledge that James had +touched on a rather doubtful topic, Beatrice's father's +family, gave conversation a slight added impetus; certainly +if anybody noticed James' embarrassment they assumed +that his slight indiscretion amply accounted for it. +At any rate, when his embarrassment led him so far as not +only to reach for his left-hand neighbor's glass of champagne +instead of his own but to tip it over in the process, +the said left-hand neighbor, who happened to be Madge +Elliston, attributed his action to that reason and acted accordingly.</p> + +<p>With a tact that would have seemed overdone if it had +not been so prompt and sufficient, she immediately assumed +that it had been she who had knocked the glass over.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I <i>am</i> such an +awkward idiot; I hope it didn't go all over you, James?... No, +my dress is all right; apparently nothing but the +tablecloth has suffered," and so forth, and so forth, to an +accompaniment of gentle swabbings and shifting of table +utensils.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Madge?" said James vaguely. "That's all right—I +mean, it's my fault, entirely...." He joined in the<span class="pagenum">[220]</span> +rescue work with grateful fervor, and in a moment a servant +came up and did something efficient with a napkin. +Madge chattered on.</p> + +<p>"I never do get through a party without doing something +silly! I'm glad it's nothing worse than this; I generally +count that dinner as lost when I don't drop a hairpin into +my food. I used to be quite embarrassed about it, but +I've got so now that I eat shamelessly on, right down to +the hairpin. I wonder if your aunt saw? No—or rather, +she did, and is far too polite to show it. She just won't +ask me again, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"She will if I have any influence with her," said James; +"and I don't mind saying, between you and me and the +gatepost, that I have a good deal! Only you must sing to +us after dinner. You will, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"My dear James, I don't suppose wild horses—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now, you must!"</p> + +<p>"I was going to say, wild horses couldn't stop me from +singing, if I'm asked! Did you ever know me to refrain +from singing, loudly and clearly, whenever I received the +slightest encouragement?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say—I haven't been here enough. I'm pretty +sure, though, that there are no wild horses here to-night."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure...." She took a rapid glance around +the table. "Yes, there are at least two wild horses right +here in this room. See if you can guess who they are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is getting beyond me!"</p> + +<p>"Guess!" said Madge, inexorably.</p> + +<p>"Well ... Professor Dodd?"</p> + +<p>"Right. Now the other."</p> + +<p>"Oh—old George Harriman."</p> + +<p>"No. You're on the wrong track; it isn't the unmusical +people that keep me from singing; it's those who make me +feel silly and <i>de trop</i>, somehow, when I'm doing it."</p> + +<p>"I can't guess," said James after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's Beatrice Carson!"</p> + +<p>"No, not Beatrice! Why, she's very fond of music!"</p> + +<p>"It's not that, as I tried to explain. She is such a wonderful, +Olympian sort of person, so beautiful, so well-bred, +so good, and tremendously wise and capable—you've heard +about the work she's doing here in the Working Girls' +League?"</p> + +<p>"Something, yes."<span class="pagenum">[221]</span></p> + +<p>"Well, it's perfectly extraordinary; they say she's been +able to reach people no one else has ever been able to do +anything with. Altogether, the thought of her listening +to me makes me feel like a first-class fool when I stand up +and warble, and even more so when I think of the time +and money I waste on learning to do a little bit better +something that isn't worth doing at all!"</p> + +<p>"But you teach school," objected James. "That's sound +constructive work."</p> + +<p>"That," replied Miss Elliston, "is not for eleemosynary +reasons."</p> + +<p>"But you do it very well."</p> + +<p>"No, you're mistaken there, and beside, I hate teaching +school; I simply <i>loathe</i> it! Whereas ... let me tell you +a secret. This singing business, this getting up in a drawing-room +and opening my mouth and compelling people's +attention, even for a moment—seeing people gradually +stop talking and thinking about something else and wishing +I'd stop, and at last just listening, listening with all their +ears and minds to me, plain, stupid, vapid little ME—well, I +just love it! It's meat and drink to me. Whenever I receive +an invitation to dinner I want to write back, Yes, if +you'll let me sing afterward!"</p> + +<p>"Really," said James thoughtfully, "that's the way it +is with you, is it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so! You won't give me away though, will +you, James?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no danger! And I'll promise you another thing—wild +horses shan't have a chance when I'm around! Not +one chance! Ever!"</p> + +<p>He was flattered by her confidence, of course, as well as +grateful for her tact. She had not only dragged him out +of the water where he was floundering on to the dry land, +but had gone so far as to haul him up an agreeable eminence +before leaving him.</p> + +<p>Conversation shifted again at that point and James +turned again to Mrs. Farnsworth. He got on very well +with her from his eminence; so well that they remained +conversationally united for the rest of dinner. In the +course of their talk he thought of another thing that made +him even happier; something he had not had a chance to +realize before. Madge thought his momentary embarrassment +had been due to having broached the doubtful topic<span class="pagenum">[222]</span> +of the Carson family. She had no inkling of his feeling +for Beatrice; the freedom of her references to Beatrice was +proof positive of that. And if she did not suspect, probably +no one else did! His secret was as safe as it had ever been.</p> + +<p>The full joy of this realization began to spread itself +through him about the time when fingerbowls came into use +and Aunt Selina was gathering eyes preparatory to starting +an exodus. Just as they all rose he chanced to catch +Madge's eye and, unable to withhold some expression of his +relief, smiled and said softly: "Thank you, Madge!"</p> + +<p>"What?" she asked, not understanding.</p> + +<p>"Champagne," said James.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" As she started to walk doorward she +turned her face directly toward his and gave him a deprecatory +little smile of understanding, exactly like the one +Beatrice had thrown him a short time ago.</p> + +<p>The coincidence at first rather took him aback. He was +conscious, as the men rearranged themselves for coffee and +cigars, of a feeling of loss, almost of desecration; the sort +of feeling one might experience on seeing somebody else +wear one's mother's wedding gown. Nobody but Beatrice +had any real business to smile like that—to him, at least. +Then it occurred to him that that was all nonsense; either +it was all on or all off between him and Beatrice. After +all, Madge's smile was just about as good to look at +as Beatrice's, if one made allowance against the latter's +unusual beauty. Madge was not unattractive in her way, +either....</p> + +<p>Madge sang, of course. James enjoyed her singing very +much, the more so for what she had told him at dinner. +During her performance an inspiration came to him which +he presently made an opportunity to impart to her.</p> + +<p>"Look here," he asked; "have you ever sung for Beatrice's +working girls?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered she in some surprise. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I've never been asked, for one thing!"</p> + +<p>"Would you, if you were? I'd like to suggest it to +Beatrice, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well for me, but what about the poor +working girls?"</p> + +<p>"I should say that any working girl that didn't want to<span class="pagenum">[223]</span> +hear you sing didn't deserve to be helped. I may suggest +it to her, then?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you like. I don't really imagine that +she'll have any use for it, though."</p> + +<p>"We'll see." He dismissed the subject with a smile. It +pleased him to be quite brief and businesslike. As the +party broke up and the guests dispersed he was busy, in a +half-conscious sort of way, constructing a vision of him and +his whole future life on this scheme; irretrievably blighted +in his own career he would devote himself to doing helpful +little services for people he liked, without thought of other +reward than the satisfaction of performing them.</p> + +<p>Sustained by this vision he embarked quite fearlessly +and efficiently on a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Beatrice before going +to bed that night. He made the suggestion to her that he +had told Madge he would make, and was pleased to find that +Beatrice welcomed it warmly.</p> + +<p>Once in bed, with the light turned out and absolute quiet +reigning throughout the house, of course disturbing things +did force their way into his brain. It was bound to be that +way, of course; had it not been that way for the past ten +months? Fears, pains, doubts, memories, regrets—all +passed in their accustomed procession before his mind's +eye, gradually growing dimmer and fewer as drowsiness +came on and at last dwindling to occasional mental pictures, +as of a characteristic gesture, a look, a smile. A +humorous little smile, for instance, suggestive of mutual +understanding....</p> + +<p>Jove, that was a funny thing! He sat up in bed, shaking +off his sleepiness and subjecting his mental vision to +the test of conscious reason. That was Madge's smile that +he had just seen, not Beatrice's; it was all there, the different +position, the eyes, the hair and everything; all complete +and unmistakable. Well, it was strange what a heavy +dinner could do to a man—that, and a glass of champagne!</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[224]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_V2">CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p class="h3">A SCHÖNE SEELE ON PISGAH</p> + +<p>More than four years have elapsed before we see +James Wimbourne again.</p> + +<p>Time has dealt easily with him, as far as appearances are +concerned. No periods of searching care have imprinted +their lines upon his face; no rending sorrow has dimmed +the sweetness of its expression. No one could even be +tempted to say that he had begun to grow stout. And if +his face is a trifle thinner and more firmly molded than of +old, if he has a more settled manner of sinking back in to +a club chair, if he takes rather more time to get through +the evening newspaper, or if, after the manner of many +ex-athletes, he is inclined to become fidgety and bilious unless +he has exactly the proper amount of physical exercise—well, +who ever reaches his late twenties without showing +similar preliminary symptoms of age; not so much the first +stages of the process of ageing as indications of what the +process will be like when it begins in earnest?</p> + +<p>The process in which we now find James engaged is +mental rather than senescent, but you would hardly guess +it to look at him. He is sitting on a rock on the top of a +hill at sunset, smoking a cigarette and patently enjoying +it. One leg is thrown easily over the other, his body is +bent slightly forward; one hand rests on the rock by his +side and the other, when not employed in propelling the +cigarette to and from his mouth, lies quietly on his lap. +He is very quiet; James is not the sort of person to make +many unnecessary motions; he picks out a comfortable position +and usually remains in it until it is time to do something +else. He would do this even if he were not gazing +at an absorbingly lovely view over the roofs of Bar Harbor, +Frenchman's Bay and the tumbled hills of the Maine +Coast, and even if the mental process were not such an absorbing +one as a review of his relation with Madge Elliston,—a +sort of indexing of the steps by which it had developed<span class="pagenum">[225]</span> +from the vaguest of acquaintanceships into its +present state.</p> + +<p>It had really begun, he reflected, on the evening of that +dinner. Before that Madge had been merely one of the +group of chattery young women that he had danced with +and was polite to and secretly rather afraid of; one of the +genus débutante. After that she merged from her genus +and, almost without going through the intermediate stages +of species and variety, became an individual.</p> + +<p>At first he had deliberately fostered and encouraged the +thought of Madge, for obvious reasons. It was clearly +profitable to do anything that would help weed out the +thought of Beatrice. It would be fruitless even to try to +enumerate the stages by which from that point on Beatrice +faded from his heart and that of Madge took her place; +to a far larger place, as he now realized, than Beatrice +had ever occupied there.</p> + +<p>It appeared to him now, as he looked back on the whole +process, that Beatrice herself was responsible for a large +part of it, Beatrice and her Working Girls' League. That +had all grown quite logically out of that first evening and +his inspiration about having Madge sing to the working +girls. Beatrice adopted the suggestion, and the result was +so successful that on the Saturday a month or two afterward, +when James made his next visit to New Haven, Madge +was engaged to sing to them for a second time. He accompanied +Beatrice to that meeting and from that evening +dated his acquaintance with the Working Girls' League +and social work in general.</p> + +<p>Madge sang for the most part old English songs, things +the girls could understand, and they followed them all +with the most unaffected interest and pleasure. James was +surprised to see several of them actually wipe tears from +their eyes when she sang the plaintive ditty "A young +country maid up to London had strayed," and during one +intermission he was conscious of certain inarticulate sounds +coming from the audience, of which the only intelligible +part was the word "husband" uttered in beseeching accents +again and again.</p> + +<p>"They want her to sing 'Oh, for a husband,'" explained +Beatrice to James. "She sang that the last time and they +all went crazy about it." Madge complied with a really +very spirited rendering of the old song, and the girls applauded<span class="pagenum">[226]</span> +with an enthusiasm that rather touched James. +There was something appealing to him in the unaffected +way in which these poor shop and factory drudges, physically +half-starved and mentally wholly starved, responded +to the slightest efforts to give them pleasure. He felt +himself suddenly warming toward the movement.</p> + +<p>"Tell me something about this place," he found a chance +to say to Madge later on, when the gathering had broken +up, and even before she replied he reflected that he had +had ample opportunity to ask Beatrice that.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>I'm</i> not the person to ask—I've only just come +into it.... It was started simply as a working girls' club, +I believe; a place more especially for the homeless ones to +come to after work hours and meet each other and spend a +little time in cheerful surroundings before going back to +their hall bedrooms.... Now it's become more than that; +they have entertainments and dances and classes of various +kinds, and we're trying to raise money enough to build +them a lodging house."</p> + +<p>"You've become one of them then, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'm one of those that have been drawn in. The +thing has flourished amazingly lately, both among the +helpers and the helped. The purpose of the League is entirely +secular—I suppose that's what made it go so well. +The churches don't seem—they don't get a chance at many +people, do they?... This is aimed to help the very lowest +class of workers; all unmarried wage-earners are eligible, +regardless of age or race or religion.... Poor things, they +are so glad to have their bodies and minds cared for and +their souls left alone! The souls follow easily enough, we +find, just as Shaw says—you've read 'Major Barbara'?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I have," replied James.</p> + +<p>"Well, that shows what the League is trying to do better +than I can.... It's had its results, too. The thing +has been running about a year, and already the number +of arrests for certain kinds of offenses has fallen off over +fifty per cent. Keeping them off the streets alone is enough +to make us feel proud and satisfied...."</p> + +<p>"I should think so," said James, blushing hotly. He +had never heard a young woman make such a remark before, +and was at a loss how to take it. But there was something +at once fearless and modest in the way Madge made +it that not only put him at his ease but set him thinking.<span class="pagenum">[227]</span> +"Good Lord, why can't we live in a world where every +one talks like that?" he suddenly asked himself.</p> + +<p>Madge went on to give him a fuller account of the purposes +and methods of the League, outlining some of its +difficulties and indicating, as far as she knew it, the path +of its future development. She paid him the compliment +of asking him several questions, and he was displeased to +find that he had either to bluff answers for them or confess +ignorance.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could do something of this sort," he said presently, +in a musing sort of way.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you? There's plenty of chance in New +York, I should say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, New York, yes. I hadn't thought of that. I +don't know what use I could be, though."</p> + +<p>"No difficulty about that, I should think. What about +athletics? You'd work among boys, I presume?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose so." Somehow the prospect did not attract +him particularly. Then he thought of Stodger; of +what Stodger's evenings would have been but for him. +What did he do to illuminate Stodger's evenings under actual +conditions, now that he come to think of it?</p> + +<p>"You'll find there are plenty of things you can do for +them. Practically every one who knows anything at all +can conduct an evening class. Even I—I have a class in +hat trimming! One of the few subjects I can truthfully +say I have practical knowledge in."</p> + +<p>Thus the germ of the desire for social service was sowed +in him. It thrived pretty steadily during the winter that +followed. He got himself introduced to the proper people +and almost before he knew it he found himself volunteering +in gymnasium work and pledged to give occasional +evening talks on athletic subjects. The organization in +which he worked was, he found to his satisfaction, like +Madge's—Madge's, you observe, not Beatrice's—Working +Girls' League, designed to help the very lowest classes +of wage-earners. It had its clubrooms on the lower East +Side and set itself up as a rival attraction to the saloon-haunting +gangs of that interesting neighborhood, and since +it dealt with the roughest section of the population it did +not hesitate to employ means that other organizations would +have hesitated to sanction. Beer and tobacco were sold +on the place; billiards and card games were freely encouraged,<span class="pagenum">[228]</span> +though there was a rule against playing anything +for money; but the chief interest of the place was athletic. +Herein lay a problem, for it was found that in the hands +of the descendants of Nihilists and pillars of the Mano +Negra such respectable sports as boxing and wrestling were +prone to degenerate into bloody duels.</p> + +<p>It was in this matter that James first made himself felt. +Happening into the building at an unaccustomed hour one +afternoon, he became aware of strange noises issuing from +an upper floor, and dashing up to the gymnasium discovered +two brawny young Italians apparently trying to +brain each other with Indian clubs. In a storm of righteous +and unaffected wrath he rushed into the fray, separated +the combatants and treated them to such a torrent +of obloquy as they had never heard even among their +own associates. Too astonished and fascinated to reply, +they allowed themselves to be hustled from the room by +James and literally kicked down the stairs and out of the +building without so much as getting into their clothes, +running several blocks in their gymnasium costumes. +They aroused no particular attention, for at that time even +the East Side was becoming accustomed to the sight of +scantily clad youths using the streets as a cinder track, but +it was more than an hour before, timid and peaceful, +the offenders ventured to slip back into the clubhouse and +their trousers.</p> + +<p>From that day on James practically ran the Delancy +Street Club. It never became a very large or famous +organization, partly for the reason that it was purposely +kept rather small, but it did much good in its own quiet +way. It soon became the chief extra-business interest in +James' life; it effectually drove the last vestiges of what +he learned to refer to mentally as "that foolishness" from +his head; his nights became full of sleep and empty of +visions. And by the spring of the next year he found +himself slipping into an intermittent but perfectly easy +friendship with Madge Elliston, founded, naturally enough, +on their common interest in social matters. He fell into +the habit of running up to New Haven for week-ends, and +into the habit of seeing Madge on those Saturday evenings. +He liked talking to her about social problems; he soon +caught up with her in the matter of knowledge and experience, +and it was from a comfortingly similar viewpoint<span class="pagenum">[229]</span> +that they were able to discuss such matters as methods of +handling evening classes, the moral effects of workmen's +compensation and the great and growing problem of dance +halls and all that it involves. They both found much to +help and instruct them in each other's views; the mere dissimilarities +of the state laws under which they worked +furnished ample material for discussion, and their friendship +was always tightened by the fact that they were, so +to speak, marching abreast, running up against successive +phases of their work at about the same time.</p> + +<p>It need cause no surprise that such a relation should have +remained practically static for a period of three years or +more. Each of them had much to think of beside social +work. James had eight or nine hours' work per day and +all the absorbing interests of metropolitan life to keep him +from spending overmuch time over it. And Madge, as we +know, was already an extremely busy young woman. For +a long time their common interest hardly amounted to +more than an absorbing topic of conversation during their +meetings. The stages by which it became the agent of +something greater were quite imperceptible.</p> + +<p>There was just one exterior fact that served as a landmark +in the progress of his feeling. Some months before—shortly +after Harry had so unexpectedly gone abroad—Madge +had started a series of Saturday night dances for +her working girls—that was at the time when the dance +craze was spreading among all classes of society—and she +asked James to help her give some exhibitions of new +dances, to get the thing well launched. James rather hesitated +in accepting this invitation.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it, of course, if you really want me to," he said; +"but I don't see why you want to drag me all the way up +here for that. Why don't you ask somebody in town?"</p> + +<p>"That's just the point," replied Madge; "I shall want +you to give a little individual instruction to the girls, if +you will, and I think it would be just as well if the person +who did that had no chance of meeting the girls about town, +in other capacities...! Beside, you happen to dance +rather better than any one I know up here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" said James. "I'll come," he added in +the next breath.</p> + +<p>It was from just about the time of those dances, James +thought, that the personal element in his relation to Madge<span class="pagenum">[230]</span> +began to overbalance the intellectual. He had had his moments +of being rather attracted by her, of course—the +episode of Aunt Selina's dinner was a fair example—but +such moments had been mere sparks, soulless little heralds +of the flame that now began to burn brightly and warmly. +Hitherto he had primarily been interested in her; now he +began definitely to like her. And then, before long, something +more.</p> + +<p>It is interesting to compare the processes by which the +two brothers fell in love with the same woman. Harry's +experience might be likened to a blinding but illuminating +flash of lightning; James' to the gentle but permeating +effect of sunrise. Both were held at first by the purely +intellectual side of Madge's character, but by different +aspects of it. Harry was primarily attracted to her by +her active wit; this had at first repelled James, made him +somewhat afraid of her, until he discovered the more solid +qualities of her mind. Both at last fell in love with her as +a person, not as a member of the female sex nor as a thinking +machine. Both passions were founded upon solid rock; +neither could be uprooted without violent and far-reaching +results.</p> + +<p>How beautifully it had all worked out in the end, James +reflected; how wisely the progress of things was ordained! +How fortunate it was that his first futile passion for Beatrice +had not been allowed to develop and bear ill-conceived +fruit! Now that he almost went so far as to despise himself +for that passion as unworthy both of himself and of +her. What had he fallen in love with there? A lip, a +cheek, a pair of eyes, a noble poise of a head, a thing to win +and kiss and at last squeeze in his arms—nothing more! +He had set her up as the image of a false, fleshly ideal, an +empty Victorian husk of an ideal, a sentimental, boyish, +calfish vision of womanhood. How paltry that image +looked when compared to that newer one combining the +attributes of friend, comrade, fellow-worker, kin of his +mind and spirit! His first image had done injustice to its +material counterpart, to be sure; Beatrice had turned out +to be far different from the alluring but empty creature +he had pictured her. She was a being with a will, ideas, +powers, purposes of her own. Well, all the better—for +Harry! How admirably suited she was to Harry! What +a pair they would make, with their two keen minds, their<span class="pagenum">[231]</span> +active ambitions, their fine, dynamic personalities! The +thought furnished almost as pleasing a mental picture as +that of his union with a small blue-eyed person at this +very moment covered by the sloping gray roof he had already +taken pains to pick out from the ranks of its fellows....</p> + +<p>The contemplation of material things brought a slight +diminution of pleasure. When one came down to solid +facts, things were not going quite so well as could be desired. +Harry was at this moment kiting unconcernedly +about the continent of Europe and his match with Beatrice +seemed, as far as James could make out, as much in the air +as ever. Also, his own actual relation with Madge was +not entirely satisfactory. That was due chiefly to sordid +facts, no doubt; he could not expect to have the freedom +of meeting and speech he naturally desired with a governess +in a friend's house. Still, in the two or three conversations +he had been able to arrange with her during the past +three weeks he had been conscious of an unfamiliar spirit +of elusiveness. Once, he remembered, she had gone so far +as to bring the subject of conversation round to impersonal +things with something little short of rudeness, just as he +was getting started on something that particularly interested +him, too....</p> + +<p>Plenty of time for that, though; it would never do to +hurry things. He arose from his rock and stretched himself, +lifting his arms high above his head in the cool evening +air with a sense of strength and ease. There was +nothing to worry about; things were fundamentally all +right; ends would meet and issues right themselves, all in +due time.</p> + +<p>It was time, or very nearly time, for Aunt Selina's evening +meal, so he started off at a brisk pace down the hill, +whistling softly and cheerfully to himself. He thought +of Aunt Selina, how pleased she would be with it all, when +she knew. Good old soul! He remembered how pointedly +she had asked him to spend his month's vacation with her +when she told him she had taken a house at Bar Harbor +for the summer; could it be that she suspected anything? +Perhaps she had, perhaps not; it had all worked in very +conveniently with Madge being at Gilsons', at any rate. +Let her and every one else suspect what they wished; it +did not matter much. Nothing did matter much, when<span class="pagenum">[232]</span> +you came to that, except that small person in white linen +and lawn who had flouted him when he had last seen her +and whom he would show what was what, he promised himself, +on the next favorable opportunity....</p> + +<p>"Thank God for Madge," he breathed softly to himself +as he walked on and the peace of the evening descended +more deeply around him; "oh, thank God for Madge!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[233]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI2">CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p class="h3">A LONG CHAPTER. BUT THEN, LOVE IS LONG</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina was almost the only person with whom +Harry spoke during the interval between his last interview +with Madge and his departure for foreign parts. +He was living in the old house now, so he could not very +well avoid seeing her. At the last moment, with his overcoat +on and his hat in his hand, he sought out his aunt, +and found her in a small room on the ground floor known +as the morning-room, going over her accounts.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Aunt Selina," he said. "I'm going to sail +for Europe on the first steamer I can get, so I shan't see +you for some time."</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina calmly took off her glasses, laid them beside +her pen on the desk and paused before replying.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, my dear," she said at length; "I'm sure I +hope you'll enjoy yourself. Brown Shipley, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry. He was a little disconcerted; Aunt +Selina played the game almost too well. Then as he stood +unconsequently before her, he was seized by a sudden desire +to confide in her. "Do you know why I'm going, Aunt +Selina?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Well, why do you <i>think</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I prefer not to guess, if that is what you mean. You +may tell me, if you wish."</p> + +<p>"Madge Elliston," mumbled Harry.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina stared immovably at her bank book for a +moment; then she got up and faced her nephew.</p> + +<p>"There is a streak of horse sense in the Wimbourne blood +that has been the saving of all of us," she said. "I'm +glad to see it come out in you. Good-by, my dear." She +kissed him on the cheek.</p> + +<p>"How do—how would you like it?" he asked, still hesitating, +uncertain as to her meaning.</p> + +<p>"Nothing better. I wish you the best of luck. And I +think you're doing the wisest possible thing."<span class="pagenum">[234]</span></p> + +<p>"I'm glad you do." He looked at her gratefully. "Did +you suspect anything?"</p> + +<p>"Not a thing."</p> + +<p>"Then I don't believe any one does.... Good-by, Aunt +Selina."</p> + +<p>"You've done me a great honor. Good-by, dear."</p> + +<p>They kissed again and he went out, feeling greatly +strengthened and encouraged. As he drove down to the +station he determined to go to a hotel in New York and +keep out of the way of the James Wimbournes and all other +possible confidants. The interview with Aunt Selina had +been so perfect that he could not bear the thought of risking +anti-climaxes to it. Suddenly he remembered that +certain Cunard and White Star boats sailed to the Mediterranean +from Boston. He could go directly there and wait +for a steamer in perfect security.</p> + +<p>So he took the next train to Boston and that very afternoon +engaged passage to Gibraltar on a steamer sailing +two days later. The interval he spent chiefly in laying up +a great store of books on Spain and Portugal, which countries +he planned to visit <i>in extenso</i>.</p> + +<p>The dull, wet voyage he found enchanting when brightened +up by the glowing pages of Lope de Vega, Calderon, +"Don Quixote," "The Lusiads," "The Bible in Spain," +and Lea's "History of the Inquisition," a galaxy further +enhanced by the businesslike promises of guide books and +numerous works on Hispanic architecture and painting. +He landed at Gibraltar with something almost approaching +regret at the thought that land traveling would allow him +less time for reading.</p> + +<p>In leisurely fashion he strolled through southern Spain +and Portugal, presently reaching Santiago de Compostela. +It had been his intention, when this part of the trip was +finished, to go to Biarritz and from there work on through +the towns of southern France, but a traveling Englishman +told him that he ought on no account to miss seeing the +cathedral of Gerona. So he changed his plans and proceeded +eastward. When he reached Gerona he called himself +a fool for having so nearly missed it, but after a week +or ten days among the huge dark churches of Catalonia he +suddenly sickened of sight-seeing and that very night +caught a through express from Barcelona to Paris.</p> + +<p>Harry had never known Paris well enough to care for it<span class="pagenum">[235]</span> +particularly, but just now there was something rather attractive +to him in its late June gaiety. He arrived there +just at the time of the Grand Prix, and as he strolled, +lonely and unnoticed, through the brilliant Longchamps +crowd he felt his heart unaccountably warming to these +well-groomed children of the world. He had been outside +the realm of social intercourse so long that he felt a sudden +desire for converse with smart, cheerful, people of their +type.</p> + +<p>His desire was not difficult of fulfilment, as nothing but +seven hours' traveling lay between him and a welcoming +Belgrave Square. The next day he crossed the Channel +and took his uncle and aunt completely by surprise. They +were delighted to see him and were unaffectedly disappointed +at having to leave him almost immediately for a +dinner in Downing Street.</p> + +<p>"But we're going to see a lot of you while you're here, +dear boy," said Aunt Miriam, "if we have to break every +engagement on our list. It isn't every day that I have a +nephew turn into a successful playwright! What about a +dinner, now? Giles, have you anything on for a week +from Monday?"</p> + +<p>"The truth is," observed Sir Giles to his nephew, +"you've become a lion, and a lion is a lion even if he is +in the family. Poor Harry, I feel for you!"</p> + +<p>"That'll do, G. It's good for the boy."</p> + +<p>"There's small danger of my being a lion in London, +anyway," said Harry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," ruminated Uncle Giles: "adoration +of success is the great British vice, you know."</p> + +<p>"Monday the fourth, then, Giles," said his wife.</p> + +<p>"Hooray, the national holiday!" retorted the irrepressible +baronet. "I say, we'll have the room decorated with +American flags and set off fireworks in the square afterward. +We might make a real day of it, if you like, and go +to tea at the American Embassy!"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think we'll do that," answered Aunt +Miriam, closing her lips rather firmly.</p> + +<p>Harry had a short talk alone with his aunt that night +after she came back from the evening's business.</p> + +<p>"Come in and help me take off my tiara," she said, leading +the way into her bedroom. "I rather want to talk to +you. Do you know, dear boy, I fancy something's come<span class="pagenum">[236]</span> +over you lately, you're changed, somehow. Is it only your +success? What brought you over here, in the first place?"</p> + +<p>"Spanish churches," answered Harry promptly. He +had at one time half decided to confide in Aunt Miriam, but +he definitely gave up the idea now. She was too sympathetic, +by half. "Do you know Barcelona and Batalha? +There's nothing like them."</p> + +<p>"No, I've never been to Spain. They say there are +fleas, and the beds are not reliable. I also understand that +other arrangements are somewhat primitive."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not always," replied Harry, smiling. "Still, I +don't think I do quite see you in Spain, Aunt Miriam." +Then he kissed her good night quite affectionately. He +could be very fond of her, from a short distance.</p> + +<p>As he strolled down Bond Street next morning Harry +sighted an old school acquaintance; a man whom he had +known as plain Tommy Erskine, but whom a succession +of timely deaths, as he now vaguely remembered, had +brought into the direct line of an earldom. Harry wondered +if he would remember him; they had not met since +their Harrow days. The other's somewhat glassy stare relaxed +quickly enough, however, when he saw who it was.</p> + +<p>"Well, Harry! Jolly old Harry!" he said in a tone of +easy cordiality, as though he had not seen Harry perhaps +for a week. "I say, turn around and toddle down to Truefitt's +again with me, will you? Fellah puts stinking stuff +on my hair three times a week; never do to miss a time, +wot? Well, jolly old Harry; wherever have you been all +these yahs? Didn't go up to Oxford, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Harry, "I went home, to America, and I've +stayed there ever since. I'm a thorough Yankee again +now; you won't know me. But Tommy, what's all this +rot about you being a viscount or something?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bilge! Such a bilgy name, too—Clairloch—like a +fellah with phlegm in his throat, wot? Never call me that, +though; call me Tommy, and I'll call you Wiggers, just +like jolly old times, wot?"</p> + +<p>Harry felt himself warming to this over-mannered, over-dressed, +over-exercised dandy who was such a simple and +affectionate creature beneath his immaculate cutaway, and +rather hoped he might see something of him during his +stay in London.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever ride these days, Tommy?" he asked presently.<span class="pagenum">[237]</span> +"That is, would you ride with me some day, if I +can scratch up an animal?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, rather. Every morning, before brekker. Only +I'll mount you. Lots of bosses, all eating their silly heads +off. Oh, rot!" he went on, as Harry demurred; "rot, +Wiggers, of course I shall mount you. No trouble 't all. +Pleasure. You come to England, I mount you. I go to +America, you mount me. Turn about, you know."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not, as we haven't got any saddle horses at +present," answered Harry. "You can drive with Aunt +Selina in the victoria, though, if you like," he added, smiling +at the thought.</p> + +<p>"Wot? Wot's that? Delighted, I'm shaw," said +Tommy, vaguely scenting an invitation. "Oh, I say, Wiggers, +speaking of aunts, wotever became of that jolly cousin +of yaws? Carson gell—oldest—sister married Ned Twombly—you +know." (For Jane had fulfilled her mission in +life by marrying the heir to a thoroughly satisfactory peerage.)</p> + +<p>"She's not my cousin," said Harry, "but she's still living +in America, keeping house for my aunt—the one I +mentioned just now—and doing lots of other things. Settlement +work, and such. She and my aunt are thick as +thieves."</p> + +<p>"I say, how rum. Fancy, gell like that—good looks, +and all that—trotting off to do slum work in a foreign +country. Wot's the matter with London? Lots of slums +here. Can't und'stand it, 't all. Never could und'stand +it. Rum."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no one ever understands Beatrice," said Harry. +"Her friends have given up trying. Well, Tommy, I +think I won't go into Truefitt's with you. See you to-morrow +morning?"</p> + +<p>"Righto—Achilles statue—seven-thirty sharp."</p> + +<p>"Righto," answered Harry, and laughed to think how +well he said it.</p> + +<p>That was the beginning of a long month of gaiety for +Harry, a month of theaters and operas, of morning rides +in the Row, of endless chains of introductions, of showering +invitations, of balls, dinners, parties of all kinds, of +lazy week-ends in the Surrey hills or beside the Thames, of +sitting, on one occasion at least, enthroned at Aunt Miriam's +right hand and gazing down a long table of people<span class="pagenum">[238]</span> +who were not only all asked there to meet him but had actually +jumped at the invitation; of tasting, in short, the +first fruits of success among the most congenial possible +surroundings.</p> + +<p>And as his relish outlasted the season he saw no reason +for not accepting an invitation to a yachting party over +Cowes week and another to one of Tommy's ancestral seats +in Rosshire over the twelfth; the more so as Uncle Giles and +Aunt Miriam decamped for Marienbad early in August. +So he became in turn one of the white-flanneled army of +pleasure-seekers of the south and one of the brown-tweeded +cohorts of the north. His month in Tommydom ran into +five, into six, into seven weeks almost before he knew it; it +threatened shortly to become two months. And then, instantaneously, +the revulsion seized him, even as it had +seized him in June at Manresa.</p> + +<p>It happened one morning when the whole party were in +the butts. Harry was ordinarily a tolerable shot, but to-day +he shot execrably. After he had missed every bird +in the first drive he cursed softly and broke his shooting-stick; +after he had missed every bird in the second he +silently handed his gun to his loader and walked down to +his host, who had the next butt to his.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Tommy," he said, holding out his hand. +"I'm going."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't do that," said Tommy. "Birds flying rotten +high to-day."</p> + +<p>"It's not that. I'm going home."</p> + +<p>"Righto. See you at tea time, then."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't see me again. I'm going to catch the +three-eighteen for Glasgow, if I can make it. Sail from +Liverpool Saturday."</p> + +<p>Tommy's face, like his mind, became a blank, but he +lived up to the traditions of his race and class. "Well, so +long, old thing," he said, shaking Harry's hand. "Call +on me if I can ever be any use. You'll find the motor +down at the crossroads, and do look alive and get off before +the next drive, there's a dear, or birds won't fly within a +mile of the first butt."</p> + +<p>Harry reached Liverpool next day and succeeded in +getting a berth on a steamer sailing the day after. He +landed in New York late one afternoon and took a night<span class="pagenum">[239]</span> +train for Bar Harbor, arriving there next morning. He +telegraphed ahead the hour of his arrival, and James and +Beatrice met him at the dock. They both seemed glad to +see him, and he supposed he was glad to see them, but he +found it strangely difficult to carry on conversation with +them as they all drove up to the house together.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina kissed Harry affectionately and wholly refrained, +he could not help noticing, from anything like +knowing smiles or sly little asides. Aunt Selina could always +be depended on.</p> + +<p>The Gilsons were New Haven people whom Harry had +always known, though never very well. He rather liked +Mrs. Gilson, who was a plump, chirpy, festive little person, +but as he drove over the two miles that lay between her +house and Aunt Selina's he prayed with all his might that +both she and her husband might be from home that afternoon. +Half his prayer was granted, but not the most important +half. Mr. Gilson was away, but Mrs. Gilson, not +content with being merely in, came bounding to the door to +meet him and was whirling him down a broad green lawn +to the tennis court before he knew which end he was standing +on.</p> + +<p>"I do so want you to meet my cousin Dorothy Fitzgerald," +she said. "Such a sweet girl, and it's so hard to +get hold of men in Bar Harbor—you've no idea! She +plays such a good game of tennis. I'm so glad to see +you've got tennis shoes on—we were just trying to get up +a four when you came. And how was your trip—do tell +me all about it! Spain? Oh, I've always longed so to go +to Spain! Young Mrs. Dimmock is here too—you know +her? And a Mr. McLean—I'll introduce you. Portugal, +too? Oh, how delightful; I do so want to hear all about +Portugal. We've just got a new tennis net—I do hope it +will work properly...."</p> + +<p>She buzzed pleasantly along by his side, neither asking +nor requiring attention. Harry's glance wandered back +to the house; he caught a glimpse of two little figures bent +over a table on a verandah; Madge and that confounded +child, of course.</p> + +<p>"Where is your little girl?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lily—she's having her French lesson, I suppose. +We find it works better that way, to leave the morning free<span class="pagenum">[240]</span> +for golf and bathing and use this first stupid part of the +afternoon for lessons. She's doing so well, too, with dear +Madge Elliston...."</p> + +<p>"I want to see Lily before I go," said Harry firmly; "I +don't think I have ever made her acquaintance. Madge +Elliston, too," he added, trying to make this seem like a +polite afterthought.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed; I'll tell them both to come down to the +court after the lesson," replied his hostess.</p> + +<p>By this time they were at the tennis court and introductions +flew fast. Tennis ensued immediately and continued, +quietly but absorbingly, through set after set till the afternoon +was well-nigh gone. Presently they stopped playing +and sat about sipping soft drinks, it seemed, for hours, +and still Madge did not show up. At length he found himself +being dragged into a single with Miss Fitzgerald. He +played violently and nobly for a time, but when at last +Madge with her small charge joined the group at the side +of the court it was more than flesh or blood could stand. +He left Miss Fitzgerald to serve into the backstop and +walked across the court to where Madge stood.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" he said, holding out his perspiring +hand.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" she answered, politely shaking it. It +was the flattest meeting imaginable; nothing could have +been more unlike the vision he had formed of it.</p> + +<p>Lily was introduced and he stood making commonplace +remarks to both of them until he became aware that he had +been rude to Miss Fitzgerald. He went off to make his +apologies to her, and found her willing to receive them and +also to discontinue their game. But if he hoped that general +conversation would give him a chance for a private +word with Madge he was bound to be disappointed. Mrs. +Gilson had other plans.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wimbourne, we're all going off on a picnic +and we do so want you to join us! You will, won't you? +Mrs. Dimmock knows such a sweet place on the Somesville +road, and we're going to start right away. I'm not at all +sure there's enough to eat, but that doesn't matter on a +picnic, does it? Especially an evening picnic, when no +one can see just how little there is! I do think it's so nice +to get up things just on the spur of the moment like this, +don't you? So much nicer than planning it all out ahead<span class="pagenum">[241]</span> +and then having it rain. Let's see, two, four, six—we +shall all be able to pile in somehow...."</p> + +<p>"But I'm afraid I shall have to change," objected +Harry. "I don't quite see how I can manage."</p> + +<p>"We shall see the moon rise over McFarland," observed +young Mrs. Dimmock in a rapt manner, as though that +immediately solved the problem.</p> + +<p>Harry was at first determined not to go on any account; +then he gathered that Madge was to be included in the expedition, +and straightway became amenable. A picnic, an +evening picnic, would surely give him the best possible opportunity....</p> + +<p>The plan as at last perfected was that Harry should be +driven home where he would change and pick up James and +Beatrice, if possible, and with them drive out in the Wimbournes' +buckboard to the hallowed spot on the Somesville +road in plenty of time to see the moon rise over McFarland. +This was substantially what occurred, except that Beatrice +elected to remain at home with Aunt Selina. James and +Harry took the buckboard and drove alone to the meeting +place. They found the others already there and busy preparing +supper. A fire crackled pleasantly; the smell of +frying bacon was in the air. Harry, refreshed by a bath +and the prospect of presently taking Madge off into some +shadowy thicket, was in higher spirits than he had been +all day. He bustled and chattered about with Mrs. Gilson +and Mrs. Dimmock and joined heartily with them in lamenting +that the clouds were going to cheat them of the +much-advertised moonrise. He engaged in spirited toasting +races with Miss Fitzgerald and sardine-opening contests +with members of the strong-wristed sex. He vied +with Mrs. Gilson herself in imparting a festive air to the +occasion.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he realized that Madge was not there. +He had been vaguely aware of something lacking even +before he overheard something about "headache" and +"poor little Lily," from which it became clear to him that +Madge's professional duties had again dealt him a felling +blow. He made some excuse about gathering firewood and +darted off in a bee-line to the place where the horses were +tethered.</p> + +<p>He caught sight of James on the way and dragged him +out of the others' hearing.<span class="pagenum">[242]</span></p> + +<p>"James!" he whispered hoarsely, "you'll have to get +home as you can. I'm going to take the buckboard—now—right +off! Something very pressing—tell you about it +later. Say I've got a stomach ache or something."</p> + +<p>He jumped into the buckboard and started off at a fast +clip. The night air rushing by him fanned his fevered +senses and before the village was reached he was calm and +deliberate. He drove straight to the Gilsons' house, tied +his horse at the hitching-post, rang the front doorbell and +asked for Miss Elliston.</p> + +<p>He allowed her to come all the way down the stairs before +he said anything. Half curious, half amused she +watched him as he stood waiting for her.</p> + +<p>"Nothing the matter with that kid?" he inquired at +last.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Come with me then."</p> + +<p>Without a word he turned and walked off through a +French window which he held open for her. As she +passed him she glanced at his set face and gave a slight +choking sound. He supposed he was rather amusing. No +matter, though; let her laugh if she wanted. He led her +across the lawn to the tennis court where they had met +this afternoon and beyond it, until at last they reached a +small boathouse with a dock beside it. To this was moored +a canoe. He had seen that canoe this afternoon and it had +recurred to him on his drive. He stooped and unfastened +the painter and then held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Get in there," he commanded.</p> + +<p>She hesitated. "It's not safe, really—"</p> + +<p>"Get in," he repeated almost roughly.</p> + +<p>She settled herself in the bow and he took his place at +the other end. With a few vigorous strokes of the paddle +he sent the canoe skimming out over the dark, mysterious +water. The night was close and heavy and gave the impression +of being warm; it was in fact as warm as a Bar +Harbor night at the end of August can respectably be. +The sky was thickly overcast, but the moon which had so +shamelessly failed to keep the evening's engagements shed +a dim radiance through the clouds, as though generously +lending them credit for having shut in a little daylight +after the normal time for its departure. Not a breeze +stirred; the surface of the water was still, though not with<span class="pagenum">[243]</span> +the glassy stillness of an inland lake. Low, oily swells +moved shudderingly about; when they reached the shore +they broke, not with the splashy cheerfulness of fair +weather ripples, but gurgling and sighing among the rocks, +obviously yearning for the days when they would have a +chance to show what they really could do in the breaking +business. The whole effect was at once infinitely calm and +infinitely suggestive.</p> + +<p>Neither of the occupants of the canoe spoke. Harry +paddled firmly along and Madge watched him with a sort +of fascination. At length her eyes became accustomed to +the light and she was able to distinguish the grim, unchanging +expression of his features and his eyes gazing +neither at her nor away from her but simply through her. +His face, together with the deathly calm of the night, +worked a strange influence over her; it became more and +more acute; she felt she must either scream or die of laughing....</p> + +<p>"Well, Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Madge?"</p> + +<p>His answer seemed less barren as she thought it over; +there had been just enough emphasis on the last word to +put the next step up to her. The moment had come. She +drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>"The answer," she said, "is in the affirmative."</p> + +<p>The next thing Madge was aware of was Harry paddling +with all his might for the shore.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Going to get out of this confounded thing," he replied.</p> + +<p>When they reached the dock he got out, helped her out +and tied the canoe with great care. Then he gathered her +to him and kissed her several times with great firmness and +precision.</p> + +<p>"You really are quite a nice young woman," he remarked; +"even if you did propose to me."</p> + +<p>"Harold Wimbourne! I never!"</p> + +<p>"You said, 'Well, Harry.' I should like to know what +that is if it isn't a proposal."</p> + +<p>They turned and started up the steps toward the house. +Madge seemed to require a good deal of helping up those +steps. When they reached the top she swung toward him +with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"What is it now?" he asked.<span class="pagenum">[244]</span></p> + +<p>"Nothing ... only that it should have happened in a +canoe. You, of all people!"</p> + +<p>They walked slowly across the tennis court and sat down +in one of the chairs scattered along its western side. Here +they remained for a long time in conversation typical of +people in their position, punctuated by long and interesting +silences.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you tell me all about it," suggested Harry.</p> + +<p>"Well, now that it's all done with, I suppose I was +merely trying to be on the safe side, all along. I know, at +least, that I had rather a miserable time after you left. +All the spring. Then I came up here and it seemed to +get worse, somehow. It was early in June, and everything +was very strange and desolate and cold, and I cried +through the entire first night, without stopping a moment!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry thoughtfully, "I should think you +might have gathered from that that all was not quite as +it should be."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well, next morning I decided I couldn't let that +sort of thing go on. So I took hold of myself and determined +never to discuss the subject with myself, at all. +And I really succeeded pretty well, considering. Whenever +the idea of you occurred to me in spite of myself, I +immediately went and did something else very hard. I've +been a perfect angel in the house ever since then, and I +don't mind saying it was rather brave of me!"</p> + +<p>"You really knew then, months ago? Beyond all doubt +or question?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder."</p> + +<p>"Then why in the world didn't you telegraph me?"</p> + +<p>"As if I would!" exclaimed Miss Elliston with an indignant +sniff.</p> + +<p>"That was the arrangement, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good gracious, hear the man! What a coarse, masculine +mind you have, my ownest! You call yourself an +interpreter of human character, but what do you really +know of the maiden of bashful twenty-six? Nothing!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, my dear," said Harry easily, "have it your +own way. I daresay it all turned out much better so. I +was able to do up the Spanish churches thoroughly, and I +had a lovely time in England. Just fancy, of all the +hundreds of people I met there I can't think of a single<span class="pagenum">[245]</span> +one, from beginning to end, who said I had a coarse masculine +mind."</p> + +<p>"Brute," murmured Miss Elliston, apparently to +Harry's back collar button.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"I suppose," she observed, jumping up a little later, +"that you were really right in the beginning. That first +evening, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm quite sure of it. How?"</p> + +<p>"When you said I couldn't talk that way to you without +being in love with you. I expect I really was, though the +time hadn't come for admitting it, even to myself. In +fact, I was so passionately in love with you that I couldn't +bear to talk about it or even think about it, for fear of +some mistake. If I kept it all to myself, you see, no harm +could ever have been done."</p> + +<p>"How sane," murmured Harry. "How incontrovertibly +logical."</p> + +<p>"Yes. You see," explained Miss Elliston primly, "no +girl—no really nice girl, that is, can ever bring herself +to face the question of whether she is in love with a man +until he has declared himself."</p> + +<p>"Consequently, it's every girl's—every nice girl's—business +to bring him to the point as soon as possible. +Any one could see that."</p> + +<p>"And for that very reason she must keep him off the +business just as long as she can. When you realize that, +you see exactly why I acted as I did that night and why I +worked like a Trojan to keep you from proposing. I +failed, of course, at last—I hadn't had much experience. +I've improved since...." She wriggled uncomfortably. +"You acted rather beautifully that night, I will say for +you. You made it almost easy."</p> + +<p>"Hm. You seemed perfectly sure that night, though, +that you were very far from being in love with me. You +even offered to marry me, as I remember it, as an act of +pure friendship. I don't see quite why you couldn't respectably +admit that you were in love with me then, since +in spite of your best efforts I had broken through to the +point. How about that?"</p> + +<p>"It was all too sudden, silly. I couldn't bring myself +round to that point of view in a minute. I had to have +time. Oh, my dear young man," she continued, resuming<span class="pagenum">[246]</span> +her primmest manner, "how little, how singularly little +do you know of that beautiful mystery, a woman's heart."</p> + +<p>"A woman's what?"</p> + +<p>"Heart."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, to be sure. As I understand it, the only mystery +is whether it exists or not."</p> + +<p>"How can you say that?" cried Madge with sudden +passion, grasping at him almost roughly.</p> + +<p>"I didn't," replied Harry.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, excuse me, of course you didn't. Only I +have to make a fool of myself every now and then...."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"But, oh, my dearest," she whispered presently with +another change of mood, "if you knew what a time I've +been through, really, since you've been gone! If you +knew how I've lain awake at night fearing that it +wouldn't turn out all right, that something would happen, +that I'd lose you after all! I've scanned the lists of arrivals +and departures in the papers; I've listened till I +thought my ears would crack when other people talked +about you. The very sound of your name was enough to +make me weep with delight, like that frump of a girl in +the poem, when you gave her a smile.... You see, I +haven't been brave <i>all</i> the time. There were moments.... Do +you know that backbone feeling?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," said Harry. "You mean the one that +starts very suddenly at the back of your neck and shoots +all the way down?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and at the same time you feel as if your stomach +and lungs had changed places, though that's not so important. +I don't see why people talk about loving with +their hearts; the real feeling is always in the spine. Well, +no amount of bravery could keep that from taking me by +surprise sometimes, and even when I was brave it would often +leave me with a suspicion that I had been very silly and +weak to trust to luck to bring everything to a happy ending. +But I never could bring myself to send word to you. +I was determined to give you every chance of changing your +mind; I knew you would come back at last, if you cared +enough.... And if anything had happened, or if you had +decided not to come back—well, I always had something +to fall back on. The memory of that one evening, and the +thought that I had been given the chance of loving you<span class="pagenum">[247]</span> +and had lived up to my love to the best of my ability...."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't seem very much now, does it?" suggested +Harry.</p> + +<p>"No. Oh, to think how it's come out—beyond all my +wildest dreams!... I never thought it would be quite +as nice as this, did you?"</p> + +<p>"Never. The truth has really done itself proud, for +once."</p> + +<p>"The truth—fancy, this is the truth! This!... Oh, +nonsense, it can't be! We aren't <i>really</i> here, you know. +This is simply an unusually vivid subconscious affair—you +know—the kind that generally follows one of the backbone +attacks. It will pass off presently. It will, you +know, even if it is what we call reality.... For the life +of me, I don't really know whether it is or not!—Harry, +did it ever occur to you that people are always marveling +that dreams are so like life without ever considering the +converse—that life is really very much like a dream?"</p> + +<p>"A few have—a very few. A great play has been written +round that very thing—<i>La Vida Es Sueño</i>—life is a +dream. We'll read it together sometime.—Heavens, I +never realized what it really meant till now! Do you +know what this seems like to me? It seems like the kind +of scene I have always wanted to write but never quite +dared—simply letting myself go, without bothering about +action or probability or motivation but just laying it on +with a trowel, as thick as I could. All that, transmuted +into terms of reality—or what we call reality! Heavens, +it makes me dizzy!"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"See here, Harold Wimbourne," said Madge, suddenly +jumping up again; "it seems to me you've been talking a +great deal about love and very little about marriage. +What I want to know is, when are you going to marry +me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the tiresome woman! Well, when should you +say?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning, preferably. If that won't do, +about next Tuesday. No, of course I've got heaps of +things to do first. How about the middle of October?"</p> + +<p>"I was just thinking," said Harry seriously. "You +see, my dear, I'm at present working on a play. Technically +speaking. Only, owing to the vaporous scruples<span class="pagenum">[248]</span> +of a certain young person I haven't been able to put in +any work on it for several months. Bachmann has been +very decent. He has practically promised to put it on in +January, if it's any good at all. That means having it +ready before Christmas, and I shall have to work like the +very devil to do that. I work so confoundedly slowly, you +see. Then there'll be all the bother of rehearsals, lasting +up to the first night, which I suppose would be about the +end of January. I should like to have up till then clear, +but I should think by about the middle of February—say +the fifteenth...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed," replied Miss Elliston, "you should say +about the fifteenth, should you? I'm sorry, very sorry +indeed, but as it happens I have another engagement for +the fifteenth—several of them. Possibly I could arrange +something for next June, though, or a year from next +January; possibly not. Better let the matter drop, perhaps; +sorry to have disturbed—"</p> + +<p>"When will you marry me?" interrupted Harry, doing +something that entirely destroyed the dignity of +Miss Elliston's pose. "Next week—to-morrow—to-night? +I daresay we could wake up a parson...."</p> + +<p>"Sorry, dear, but I've arranged to be married on the +fifteenth of February, and no other date will do. You're +hurting my left shoulder-blade cruelly, but I suppose it's +all right. That's better.... Oh, Harry, I do want you +to work like the very devil on this play! Don't think +about marriage, or me, or anything that will hinder you. +Because, dearest, I have a feeling that it's going to be +rather a good one. A perfect rip-snorter, to descend to +the vulgar parlance."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Harry, "I have a feeling that it is, too."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>The sound of carriage wheels crunching along the gravel +drive floated down and brought them back with a start to +the consideration of actualities. They both sat silently +wondering for a moment.</p> + +<p>"What about Mrs. Gilson?" suggested Madge.</p> + +<p>"Might as well," replied Harry.</p> + +<p>"All right. You'll have to do it, though."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Come along."</p> + +<p>They rose and stood for a moment among the scattered +chairs, both thinking of their absurd meeting on that spot<span class="pagenum">[249]</span> +this very afternoon, and then turned and started slowly +up toward the house. When they had nearly reached the +verandah steps Harry stopped and turned toward Madge.</p> + +<p>"Well, the whole world is changed for us two, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Nothing will ever be quite the same again, but always +better, somehow. Even indifferent things. And nothing +can ever spoil this one evening?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Not all the powers of heaven or earth or hell? We +have a sort of blanket insurance against the whole universe?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Madge. "We're future-proof."</p> + +<p>"That's it, future-proof. I'll wait here on the porch. +No Fitzgerald, mind."</p> + +<p>He did not have to wait long. Madge found Mrs. Gilson +in the hall, as it happened, with Miss Fitzgerald receding +bedward up the stairs and far too tired to pay any +attention to Madge's gentle "Mr. Wimbourne is here and +would like to see you, Mrs. Gilson." So the good lady +was led out into the dark porch and as she stood blinking +in the shaft of light falling out through the doorway +Harry appeared in the blackness and began speaking.</p> + +<p>"I do hope you'll excuse my being so rude and leaving +your party, Mrs. Gilson. There was a real reason for it. +You see Madge and I"—taking her hand—"have come to +an understanding. We're engaged."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Gilson stood blinking harder than ever for one +bewildered moment, and then the floodgates of speech were +opened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my <i>dear</i>, how <i>wonderful</i>! Madge, my dearest +Madge, let me kiss you! Whoever could have <i>dreamed</i>—Harry—you +don't mind my calling you Harry, do you?—you +must let me kiss you too! It's all so wonderful, +and so unexpected, and I can't help thinking that if your +dear mother—oh, Madge, you double-dyed creature, how +long has this been going on and I never knew a thing? +We all thought—your brother was so tactful and gave us +to understand that you had acute indigestion or something, +left over from the voyage, and we all quite understood, +though I did think there might be something afoot +when I saw your buckboard at the door. And I haven't +heard a thing about Spain and Portugal, not a <i>thing</i>,<span class="pagenum">[250]</span> +though goodness knows there's no time to think of that +now and you must let me give a dinner for you both at +the earliest possible moment. When is it to be announced? +I do hope before Labor Day because there's never a man +to be had on the island after that...."</p> + +<p>And so on. At last Harry made the lateness of the hour +an excuse for breaking away and went round to the front +door to get his buckboard. Madge had to go with him, +though she had no particular interest in the buckboard.</p> + +<p>"She's a good woman," said Harry as he fumbled with +the halter. "Though—whoa there, you silly beast; you're +liable to choke to death if you do that."</p> + +<p>"The rein's caught over the shaft," explained Madge. +"It makes her uncomfortable. Though what, dear?"</p> + +<p>"That's the trace, and it's him, anyway. Oh, nothing. +Only I never was so awfully keen on slobbering."</p> + +<p>"She's a dear, really. If you knew what an angel she's +been to me all summer! What makes her look round in +that wild-eyed way?"</p> + +<p>From Harry's answer, "He's tired, that's all," we may +assume that this question referred to the horse, though her +next remark went on without intermission: "I don't +want you to go away to-night thinking—"</p> + +<p>"I like slobbering," asserted Harry. "Always did.... Now +if that's all, dear, perhaps I'd better make +tracks." The last ceremonies of parting had been performed +and he was in the buckboard.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment, while I kiss your horse's nose. It +doesn't do to neglect these little formalities.... I'm glad +you like slobbering, dear, because your horse has done it +all over my shoulder ... no, don't get out. It had to +go in the wash anyway. He's a sweet horse; what is his +name?"</p> + +<p>"Dick, I think. Oh, no—Kruger. Yes, he's that old."</p> + +<p>"Because, dear," went on Madge, with her hand on the +front wheel; "there's one thing one mustn't forget. +There was—Mr. Gilson, you know."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord," said Harry, struck by the thought.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and what's more, there still is!"</p> + +<p>"A true model for us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. After all, we have no monopoly, you know."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, think of it! Millions of others!"<span class="pagenum">[251]</span></p> + +<p>"It gives one a certain faith in the human race, doesn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, Madge, don't be ultimate any +more to-night! You make me dizzy—how do you suppose +I'm going to drive between those white stones? Do you +want me to be in love with the whole world?" And +Madge's reply "Yes, dear, just that," was drowned in the +clatter of his wheels.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[252]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII2">CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p class="h3">A VERY SHORT CHAPTER, IN ONE SENSE</p> + +<p>The next day it rained. Harry shut himself up in his +room and wrote violently all the morning, less in the +hope of accomplishing valuable work than in the desire to +keep his mind off the one absorbing topic. It proved to be +of little use. At lunch time he threw all that he had written +into the fireplace and resolved to tell the immediate +members of his family.</p> + +<p>It worked out very well. After lunch he arranged with +James to take a walk in the rain. Beatrice, it appeared, +would be occupied at a bridge party all the afternoon. +There remained Aunt Selina—the easiest, by all odds. +Just before starting out with James he walked into the +living room, rustling in his raincoat, and found her alone +by the fire.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Aunt Selina." He felt himself grinning +like a monkey, but couldn't seem to stop himself.</p> + +<p>But Aunt Selina herself could do nothing but laugh. +Presently she rose from her seat and embraced her +nephew.</p> + +<p>"That top button has come off," she said. "I'm afraid +you'll get your neck wet." Then they looked at each +other and laughed again. There was really nothing more +to be said.</p> + +<p>James' feet sounded on the stairs above.</p> + +<p>"I shan't be home for dinner," said Harry, starting +toward the door. "And you might tell Beatrice," he +added.</p> + +<p>He walked with James for three hours or more. It may +have been the calming influence of exercise or it may have +been the comforting effect that James' society generally +had on him; at any rate, when the time came he found himself +able to say what he had to without any of the embarrassment +he had expected.</p> + +<p>He chose the moment when they had all but reached the +crossroad that would take him off to the Gilsons'.<span class="pagenum">[253]</span></p> + +<p>"James," he said, breaking a long silence, "I've got +something rather important to tell you. I'm engaged."</p> + +<p>"To whom?"</p> + +<p>"Madge Elliston."</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"Last night. That was it." They now stood facing +each other, at the crossroads. James did not speak for a +moment, and Harry scanned his face through the dusk. +Its expression was one of bewilderment, Harry thought. +Strange, that James should be more embarrassed than he! +But that was the way it went.</p> + +<p>"Harry! See here, Harry—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, James!"</p> + +<p>"I ..." He stopped and then slowly raised his hand. +"I congratulate you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, awfully. It does sort of take one's breath +away, doesn't it?... I'm going there now. Why don't +you come too? No? Well, I may be rather late, so leave +the door on the latch. I'll walk home." And he walked +off down the crossroad.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>James knew, perfectly well, the moment Harry said he +had something to tell him. His subsequent questions were +prompted more by a desire to make the situation between +them legally clear, as it were, than by real need of information. +His first dominant impulse was to explain the +situation to Harry and show him, frankly and convincingly, +the utter impossibility of his engagement. The +very words formed themselves in his mind:—"See here, +Harry, you can't possibly marry Madge Elliston, because +I'm in love with her myself—have been for years, before +you ever thought of her!" He drew a long breath and +actually started in on his speech. But the words would +not come. As he looked at his brother standing happy and +ignorant before him he realized in an instant that, come +what might, he would never be able to utter those words.</p> + +<p>There was nothing left to do but mumble his congratulations. +As he lifted his hand to that of his brother the +thought occurred to him that he might easily raise it +higher and put Harry out of his way, once and for all. +He knew that he could, with his bare hands, do him to +death on the spot; knee on chest, fingers on throat—he +knew the place. That was perhaps preferable to the<span class="pagenum">[254]</span> +other; kinder, certainly, but equally impossible. It was +not even a temptation.</p> + +<p>As he walked off he reflected that he had just come +through one of the great crises of his whole life, and yet +how commonplace, how utterly flat had been its outward +guise! He had always vaguely wondered how people +acted at such times; now the chance had come to him and +he had shown less feeling than he would have at missing +a trolley car. In him, at this present moment, were surging +some of the most terrific passions that ever swayed +human beings—love, jealousy, disappointment, hate of the +order of things—and he could not find a physical vent for +one of them! Not only that, but he never would be able +to; he saw that clearly enough; people of his time and class +and type never could. This was what civilization had +brought men to! What was the use? What was the +meaning of all civilization, all progress, all human development? +Here he was, as perfect a physical specimen +as his age produced, unable to do more than grit his teeth +in the face of the most intolerable emotions known to +mankind, under pain of suffering a debasement even more +intolerable. Some people did give way to their passions, +but that was only because they were less able to think +clearly than he. They always regretted it in the end; +they always suffered more that way; his knowledge of the +world had taught him nothing if it had not taught him +that.</p> + +<p>Just in order to prove to himself how ineffectual physical +expression of his mental state was he tore a rail off +the top of a nearby fence—he had wandered far out into +the country again—and, raising it above his shoulders, +brought it down with all his strength upon a rock. The +rail happened to be a strong one and did not break, and the +force of the blow made his hands smart. He took a certain +fierce joy in the pain and repeated the blow two or +three times, but long before his body tired with the exertion +his soul sickened of the business. He threw the rail +lightly over the fence and wandered hopelessly on into +the hills.</p> + +<p>After the first shock of surprise and disappointment had +passed his feelings boiled down to a slow scorching hate of +destiny. The thought of God occurred to him, among +other things, and he laughed. Why did people ever take<span class="pagenum">[255]</span> +it into their heads to deny the existence of God? Of +course there was a God; nothing but a divine will could +possibly have arranged that he should be thwarted in an +honest love—not merely once, mind you, but twice—by +the one person in the world whom he could not oppose. +Such things were beyond the realm of chance or reason. +During one part of his wanderings he laughed aloud, several +separate times, at the monumental humor of it all. +A man such as he was, in the full pride of his youth and +strength, strong in body, strong in mind, strong in will +and character, twitched hither and yon by the lightest +whimsical breath of an all-powerful divinity—it was +supremely funny, in its coarse, horrible way.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it's a good joke, God," he said aloud once +or twice; "it's a damned good joke."</p> + +<p>It is significant that he thought very little of Madge +now. He experienced none of the sudden sharp twinges +of memory that he had known on a former occasion. At +that time, as he now realized, only one side of his nature +had been stirred, and that a rather silly, unimportant side. +Now his whole being, or at least all that was best and +strongest in his being, was affected. He had loved Beatrice +only with his eyes and his imagination. He loved Madge +with the full strength of his heart and soul and mind. +And heart, soul and mind being cheated of their right, +united in an alliance of hate and revenge against the fate +that had cheated them.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>He did not return to the house for dinner, and Aunt +Selina supposed he had gone with Harry to the Gilsons'. +He walked most of the night and when at last he reached +home he found the door locked. Harry, of course, not +finding him downstairs, had thought he had gone to bed +and had locked everything. So he lay down in a cot hammock +to await the coming of a hopeless day.</p> + +<p>He got some sleep; he did not see that dawn, after all. +Awakened shortly after seven by a housemaid opening +doors and windows, he slipped unobserved up to his room, +undressed and took a cold bath. He supposed nothing +would ever keep him from taking a cold bath before breakfast; +nothing, that is, except lack of cold water. Strange, +that cold water could effect what love, jealousy and company +could not. He glanced out of the window. The<span class="pagenum">[256]</span> +weather had changed during the night and the day was +clear and windy and snapping, a true forerunner of autumn. +The sun and wind between them were whipping +the sea into all sorts of shades of blue and purple, rimming +it with a line of white along the blue coast of Maine over +to the left. There was cold water enough for any one, +enough to drown all the wretched souls ever born into a +world of pain. How strange it was to think of how many +unwilling souls that sea drowned every year, and yet had +not taken him, who was so eminently willing! He could +not deliberately seek death for himself, but he would be +delighted to die by accident. No such luck, though; the +fate, God, destiny, whatever you chose to call it, that had +brought him twice into the same corner of terrestrial hell +would see to that....</p> + +<p>As he was rubbing himself dry his eye fell on his reflection +in a full-length mirror and almost involuntarily +stopped there. He still had the pure Greek build of his +college days, he noticed; the legs, the loins, the chest, the +arms, the shoulders all showed the perfect combination of +strength and freedom. He had not even the faults of +over-development; his neck was not thick like a prize-fighter's +nor did his calves bulge like those of many great +athletes. And his head matched the rest of him, within +and without. And all this perfection was brought to +naught by the vagrant whim of a cynical power! A new +wave of hate and rebellion, stronger than any he had yet +felt, swept over him. Moved by a sudden impulse he +threw aside his towel and advanced a step or two toward +the mirror, raising his hands after the manner of a libation-pourer +of old.</p> + +<p>"I swear to you," he muttered between clenched teeth +to the reflection that faced him; "I swear to you that +nothing in me shall ever rest until I have got even with +the Thing, god, devil or blind chance, that has brought +me to this pass. It may come early or it may come late, +but somehow, some day! I swear it."</p> + +<p>There was something eminently satisfying in the juxtaposition +of his nakedness of body to the stark intensity of +his passion and the elemental fervor of his agnosticism. +For James was now a thorough agnostic; turned into one +overnight from a "good" Episcopalian—he had been confirmed +way back in his school days—he realized his position<span class="pagenum">[257]</span> +and fairly reveled in the hopelessness and magnificence +and bravery of it all. For it takes considerable +bravery to become an agnostic, especially when you have +a simple religious nature. James was in a state where +the thought of being eternally damned gave him nothing +but a savage joy. It was all very wicked, of course, but +strong natures have a way of turning wicked when it becomes +impossible for them to be good. There are some +things that not even a <i>schöne Seele</i> can put up with.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Having thus taken pact with himself he experienced a +sense of relief and became almost cheerful. He had breakfast +alone with Harry—both ladies customarily preferring +to take that intimate meal in their own rooms—and talked +with him quite normally about various matters, chiefly +golf. He became almost garrulous in explaining his +theories concerning the proper use of the niblick. Harry +was going to play golf that morning with Madge. He +looked extremely fresh and attractive in his suit of tweed +knickers; James did not blame Madge in the least for falling +in love with his brother rather than him. Nor was he +in the least inclined to find fault with Harry for falling +in love with Madge. Only ... but what was the use in +going over all that again?</p> + +<p>He walked briskly down to the town after breakfast and +engaged a berth on the New York express for that night. +Living in immediate propinquity to the happy lovers +would of course be intolerable. Then he walked back to +the house. It was rather a long walk; the house stood on +a height at some distance back of the town. A feeling of +lassitude overcame him before he reached home; the exertions +of last night were beginning to tell on him. Oh, the +horror of last night! The memory of it was almost more +oppressive than the dreadful thing itself.</p> + +<p>He supposed he ought to go up and begin to pack, but he +did not feel like it. Instead he wandered out on the verandah +to lie in the sun and watch the sea for a while. +He came at last to a hexagonal tower-like extension of the +verandah built over an abutment of rock falling sharply +away on all sides except that toward the house. There +was a drop of perhaps twenty-five feet from the broad +railing of this extension to the ground below. Harry, who +knew the house from his early days, had dubbed its peak-roofed<span class="pagenum">[258]</span> +excrescence the chamber up a tower to the east that +Elaine guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot in; it was +sometimes more briefly referred to as Elaine. It was a +pleasant place to sit, but very windy on a day like this, +and James was rather surprised to discover Beatrice +sitting in one angle of the railing gazing silently out over +the sea.</p> + +<p>"Hullo," he said, listlessly sinking into a chair. +"You've heard, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've heard."</p> + +<p>"Fine, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, splendid."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to New York to-night," said James after +a moment.</p> + +<p>"I'm going home next month," said Beatrice.</p> + +<p>Neither spoke for a while and then it began to dawn on +them both that those two carelessly spoken sentences had +much more to them than their face-value. They both had +the uneasy sensation of being forced into a "situation."</p> + +<p>"What for?" asked James at last.</p> + +<p>"For good."</p> + +<p>"But why?" he persisted, knowing perfectly well why, +at bottom.</p> + +<p>"You ought not to have to ask that," she replied. +"You, of all people.—Why are you going away to-night?" +she added, turning toward him with sudden passion.</p> + +<p>James' first impulse was to make a sharp reply, his +second was to get up and walk away, and then his glance +fell upon her face.... Oh, was there no end to mortal +misery?</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Beatrice," he said wretchedly; "I'm sorry—I +didn't mean to hurt you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all right," she answered in his own tone of +voice. Then for a long time neither of them moved nor +spoke.</p> + +<p>The situation was on them now in full force, and it was +a sufficiently terrific one, for actual life; one which under +other circumstances they would both have made every effort +to break up. Yet neither of them thought of +struggling against it now—there was so much else to struggle +against. Great misfortunes inoculate people to small +embarrassments; no one in the throes of angina pectoris +has much time to bother about a cold in the head. Then,<span class="pagenum">[259]</span> +as their silence wore on, they began to be conscious of a +certain sense of companionship.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's pretty bad?" ventured James at last, +on a note of tentative understanding.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it is...."</p> + +<p>An idea occurred to James. "At least you're better +off than I am, though. You can try to do something about +it. You see how my hands are tied. You can fight +against it, if you want. That's something."</p> + +<p>Beatrice gazed immovably out over the sea. "You can't +fight against destiny," she said at last.</p> + +<p>James pricked up his ears; his whole being became suddenly +alert. Couldn't one? Had he not dedicated his +whole future to that very thing? "I'm not so sure of +that," he answered slowly. "Have you ever tried?"</p> + +<p>"I've tried for seven years."</p> + +<p>Well, that was something. He became curious; seven +years' experience in the art of destiny-fighting would +surely contain knowledge that would be valuable to a +novice like himself. And in the manner of getting this +he became almost diabolically clever. Guessing that all +direct inquiries in the matter would merely flatten themselves +against the stone wall of her reticence he determined +to approach her through the avenue of her pride.</p> + +<p>"I find it hard to believe that," he remarked; "I +haven't seen the slightest indication of such a thing."</p> + +<p>"No, of course not. How should you? I haven't advertised +it, like a prize fight!"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that; I mean that I haven't ever discovered +anything in your character to make me believe +you were—that sort of person. That sort of thing takes +more than strength of character and intellect; it takes passion, +capacity for feeling. And I shouldn't have said +there was much of that in you. You have always seemed +to me—well, rather aloof from such things. Cold, almost—I +don't mean in the sense of being ill-natured, but...."</p> + +<p>James was perfectly right; it is a curious trait of human +character, that sensitiveness on the point of capacity for +feeling. People who will sincerely disclaim any pretensions +to strength of mind, body or character will flare into +indignant protest when their strength of heart is assailed. +It was so with Beatrice now.</p> + +<p>"Cold?" she interrupted with a slight laugh. "Me<span class="pagenum">[260]</span>—cold?... +Yes, I suppose I might seem so. I daresay I +appear to be a perfect human icicle...." She laughed +again, and then turned directly toward James. "See here, +James, it's more than likely that we shall never see each +other again after to-day, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not, if you intend to go—"</p> + +<p>"The first moment I can. Consequently it doesn't matter +particularly what I say to you now or what you think +of me afterward. I should just like to give you an idea +of what these years have been to me. It may amuse you +to know that the pursuit of your brother has been the one +guiding passion of my life since I was eighteen. I was in +love with him before he left England and I've wanted him +from that time on—wanted him with all the strength of +my soul and body! Wanted him every living moment of +the day and night!... Can you conceive of what that +means for a woman? A woman, who can't speak, can't +act, can't make the slightest advance, can't give the least +glimmering of her feeling?—not only because the world +doesn't approve but because her game's all up if the man +gets a suspicion that she's after him.... I suppose I knew +it was hopeless from the start, though I couldn't bring +myself to admit it. At any rate, as soon as the chance +came I made up my mind to come over here and just sit +around in his way and wait—the only thing a woman can +do under the circumstances...."</p> + +<p>"I never—I didn't realize quite all that," stammered +James. "Though I knew—I guessed about the other.... You +mean you deliberately came to America—"</p> + +<p>"With that sole purpose."</p> + +<p>"And you—you...." He fairly gasped.</p> + +<p>"I wormed my way into a place in your family with +that one end in view, if that's what you mean. And I've +remained here with that one end in view ever since."</p> + +<p>"And all your work—the League—"</p> + +<p>"I had to do something, in the meanwhile—No, that's +not true either; that was another means to the same end. +Intended to be." She smiled with the same quiet intensity +of bitterness that had struck James before.</p> + +<p>"But what about you and Aunt Selina? I always +thought—"</p> + +<p>The smile faded. "Aunt Selina might lie dead at my +feet, for all I should care," she answered with another<span class="pagenum">[261]</span> +sudden burst of passion. "Oh, no, not quite that. I suppose +I like her as well as I can <i>like</i> any one. But that's +the way it is, comparatively."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I know that feeling," said James meditatively.</p> + +<p>"So you see how it is with me. I'm glad, in a way, that +it's all up now. Any end—even the worst—is better than +waiting—that hopeless, desperate waiting. Yet I never +could bring myself to give up till I heard—what I heard +yesterday. I've expected it, really, for some time; I've +watched, I've seen. Oh, that horrible watching—waiting—listening! +That's all over, at least...."</p> + +<p>She had sunk into a chair near the edge of the verandah +and sat with her elbows on the broad rail, gazing with +sightless eyes over the variegated expanse of the sea. The +midday sun fell full upon her unprotected face and even +James at that moment could not help thinking how few +complexions could bear that fierce light as hers did. She +was, indeed, perhaps more beautiful at that moment than +he had ever seen her before. Her expression of quiet +hopeless grief was admirably suited to the high-bred cast +of her features; she would have made a beautiful model +for a Zenobia or a classisized type of <i>pietà</i>. Beauty is +never more willing to come to us than when we want it +least.</p> + +<p>It had its effect on James, though he did not realize it. +He came over and sat down on the rail, where he could look +directly down at her.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice," he said, "I don't mind saying I think it +was rather magnificent of you."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him a moment and then out to sea +again. "Well, I must say I don't. I'm not proud of it. +If I had been man enough to go my own way and not let +it interfere with my life in the very least, that might have +been magnificent. But this.... It was simply weak. I +always knew there was no hope, you know."</p> + +<p>"No, that's not the way to look at it. You devoted your +whole life to that single purpose.... After all, you did +as much as it was possible to do, you know. You went +about it in the very best way—you were right when you +said the worst thing you could do was to let him see."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure. No, I don't know about that. Sometimes +I think that if I had been brave enough simply to +go to him and say, 'I love you; here I am, take me; I'll<span class="pagenum">[262]</span> +devote my life to making a good wife for you,' it would +have been much better. But I wasn't brave enough for +that."</p> + +<p>"No," insisted James; "that wasn't why you didn't do +it. You knew Harry. It might have worked with some +men, but not with him. Can't you see him screwing himself +to be polite and saying, 'Thank you very much, Beatrice, +but I don't think I could make you a good enough +husband, so I'm afraid it won't do'?... No, you picked +out the best way to get at him and made that your one purpose +in life, and I admire you for it. It wasn't your fault +it didn't succeed; it was just—just the damned, relentless +way of things...."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do now?" he asked after a +pause. "After you get home, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Work, I suppose, at something."</p> + +<p>"What—slums?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose so.—No, I'd rather do something harder, +like stenography—something with a lot of dull, grinding +routine. That's the best way."</p> + +<p>"A stenographer!"</p> + +<p>"Or a matron in a home.—Why not? I must do +something. I won't live with Mama, that's flat."</p> + +<p>"You think you must go home, do you?"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't expect me to stay here and—?"</p> + +<p>"No, but couldn't you find something to do here as well +as there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but why? I suppose I want to go home, things +being as they are. If I've got to live somewhere, I'd +rather live among my own people. I didn't come here +because I liked America best...."</p> + +<p>"But are you sure you don't like America best now? +You can't have lived here all these years without letting +the place have its effect on you, however little you may +have thought about it. Why, your very speech shows it! +And what about your friends—haven't you got as many +on this side as the other? You've practically admitted +it.... And do you realize what construction is sure to +be put on your leaving just now...?"</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at?" She looked quickly up at +him, curious in spite of herself to discover the trend of +his arguments, in themselves scarcely worth answering. +He did not reply for a moment, but stared gravely back<span class="pagenum">[263]</span> +at her, and when he spoke again it was from a different +angle.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, why have you been telling me all these +things...?"</p> + +<p>He knew what he was going to do now, what he was +striving toward with the whole strength of his newly-forged +determination. And if at the back of his brain +there struggled a crowd of lost images—ghosts of ideals +which at this time yesterday had been the unquestioned rulers +of his life—stretching out their tenuous arms to him, +giving their last faint calls for help before taking their +last backward plunge into oblivion, he only went on the +faster so as to drown their voices in his own.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, why did you think of confiding in me? Why +did you pick out this particular time? You never have +before; you're not the sort of person that makes confidences. +It wasn't because you were going away; that was +no real reason at all.... Beatrice, don't you see? Don't +you see the bond that lies between us two? Don't you +see what's going to happen to us both?"</p> + +<p>"No—I don't know what you're talking about. James, +don't be absurd!" She rose to her feet as if to break +away, but she stood looking at his face, fascinated and possibly +a little frightened by the onward rush of his words. +James rose too and stood over her.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, we've both had a damned dirty trick played +on us, the same trick at the same time. Are you going to +take it lying down—spread yourself out to receive another +blow, or are you going to stand up and make a fight—assert +your independence—prove the existence of your own +soul? I'm not, whatever happens! I'm going to make +a fight, and I want you to make it with me. Beatrice, +marry me! Now—to-day—this instant! Don't you see +that's the only thing to do?..."</p> + +<p>"No! James, stop! You don't know what you're saying!" +She broke away from him, asserting her strength +for the moment against even his impetuous onrush. +"James, you're mad, stark mad! Haven't you lived long +enough to know that you always regret words spoken like +that? Try to act like a sensible human being, if you can't +be one!"</p> + +<p>That was all very well, but why did she weaken it by +adding "I won't listen to any more such talk," which<span class="pagenum">[264]</span> +admitted the possibility that there might be more such +talk very soon? And if she was determined not to listen, +why did she not simply walk away and into the house? +James did not put these questions to himself in this form, +but the substance of their meaning worked its way through +his excitement and lent him courage for an attack from +a new quarter. He dropped his impetuosity and became +very quiet and keen.</p> + +<p>"You ask me to act like a sensible person; very well, I +will. Let's look at things from a practical point of view. +There's no love's young dream stuff about this thing, at +all. We've lost that; it's been cut out of both our lives, +forever. All there is left for us to do is to pick up the +pieces and try to make something of ourselves, as we are. +How can we possibly do that better than by marrying? +Don't you see the value of a comradeship founded on the +sympathy there must be between us?"</p> + +<p>He stopped for a moment and stood calmly watching +her. No need now to use violence against those despairing +voices in the background of his thoughts; they had been +hushed by the strength of a determination no longer hot +with the joy of self-discovery but taking on already something +of the chill irrevocability of age. He watched Beatrice +almost with amusement; he knew so well what futile +struggles were going on within her. He had no more +doubt of the outcome now than he had of his own determination.</p> + +<p>"It all sounds very well, James," she answered at last, +"but it won't do. I couldn't do it. Marriage...."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Marriage is an ideal, you know, as well as—as a contract. +I can't—I won't have one without the other."</p> + +<p>"You are very particular. People as unpopular with +chance as we are can't afford to be particular."</p> + +<p>"It would be false to—to—oh, I don't know how to put +it! To the best in life."</p> + +<p>"Has the best in life been true to you?"</p> + +<p>"You are so bitter!"</p> + +<p>"Hasn't one the right to be, sometimes? God—fate—what +you call ideals—have their responsibilities, even to +us. What claim have all those things got on us now?"</p> + +<p>"I choose to follow them still!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum">[265]</span></p><p>"Then you are weak—simply weak!—You act as if +I were proposing something actually wicked. It's not +wicked at all; it's simply a practical benefit. Marriage +without love might be wicked if there were any chance left +of combining it with love; but now—! It's simply picking +up pieces, making the best of things—straight commonsense...."</p> + +<p>She might still have had her way against him, as long +as he continued to base his appeal on commonsense. But +he changed his tactics again, this time as a matter of impulse. +He had been slowly walking toward her in the +course of his argument and now stood close by her, talking +straight down into her eyes, till suddenly her mere physical +nearness put an end to speech and thought alike. +Something of her old physical attraction for him, which +had been much stronger than in the case of Madge, returned +to him with a force for the moment irresistible. +There was something about her wide eyes, her parted lips, +her bosom slightly heaving with the effort of argument.... +He put his hand on her shoulder and slowly yet irresistibly +drew her to him. He bent his head till their +lips touched.</p> + +<p>So they stood for neither knew how long. Seconds flew +by like years, or was it years like seconds? Sense of time +was as completely lost as in sleep; indeed, their condition +was very much like that of sleep. They had both become +suddenly, acutely tired of life and had found at least temporary +rest and refreshment. Neither of them was bothered +by worries over the inevitable awakening; neither of +them even thought of it, yet.</p> + +<p>As for Beatrice, she was for the moment bowled over by +the discovery that some one cared for her enough to clasp +her to his bosom and kiss her. What had she wanted all +these years, except to be loved? A wave of mingled self-pity +and self-contempt swept over her. She felt suddenly +weak; her knees trembled; what did that matter, though, +when James was there to hold her up? She needed +strength above all things, and James was strong above all +things. Tears smarted in her eyes and streamed unheeded +down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I was so lonely," she whispered at last, raising her +welling eyes to him. "I have been alone so long ... so +long...."</p> + +<p>"James," she began again after a while, "life is so horrible, +isn't it?"<span class="pagenum">[266]</span></p> + +<p>"It is. Ghastly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it <i>is</i> good to find some one else who thinks so!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"Anything is good—<i>anything</i>—that makes it easier to +forget, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And we're going to try to forget together."</p> + +<p>Presently the moment came when they had to break +apart, and they did it a little awkwardly, not caring to +look at each other very closely. They sat down on the +rail, side by side but not touching, and for some time remained +silently busy regaining old levels and making new +adjustments. There was considerable to adjust, certainly. +At last James looked at his watch and announced that it +was nearly lunch time.</p> + +<p>"When shall we get married?" he inquired, brusk +and businesslike. It may have been only his tone that +Beatrice involuntarily shuddered at. She told herself it +was, and then reviled herself for shuddering. It was better +to be prosaic and practical.</p> + +<p>"Oh, as soon as possible.... Now—any time you say."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but when? When shall we tell people?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not just yet...." she objected, almost automatically.</p> + +<p>"Why not? Why not right now—before the other?"</p> + +<p>"You think...?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—every moment counts." He meant that the +sooner the thing came out the better were their chances of +concealment, and she understood him. Yes, that was the +way to look at things, she reflected; might as well do it +well, if it was to be done at all. She warmed up to his +point of view so quickly that when his next question came +she was able to go him one better.</p> + +<p>"And the other—the wedding? In about a fortnight, +should you say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not for a month, at least. At the very least. +It must be in England, you see."</p> + +<p>"In England?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the way it would be...." If we were +really in love with each other, of course she meant. He +looked at her with new admiration.</p> + +<p>They made a few more arrangements. Their talk was +pervaded now with a sense of efficiency and despatch. If +they could not call reasons by their real names they could<span class="pagenum">[267]</span> +call steamships and railroads by theirs, and did. In a +few minutes they had everything planned out.</p> + +<p>A maid appeared and announced lunch. They nodded +her away and sat silent for a moment longer. It seemed +as if something more ought to be said; the interview was +too momentous to be allowed to end with an announcement +of a meal. The sun beat down on them from the zenith +with the full unsubtle light of noonday, prosaically +enough, but the wind, blowing as hard as ever, whistled +unceasingly around their exposed tower and provided a +sort of counter-dose of eerieness and suggestiveness; it +gave them the sense of being rather magnificently aloof +from the rest of the world. The sun showed them plainly +enough that they were on a summer-cottage verandah, but +the wind somehow managed to suggest that they were +really in a much more romantic place. Probably this dual +atmosphere had its effect on them; it would need something +of the sort, at any rate, to make James stand up and +say aloud, in broad daylight:</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, don't you feel a sort of inspiration in fighting +against something you can't see?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, James," she answered slowly; "I believe I do—now."</p> + +<p>"Something we can neither see nor understand, but +know is wrong and can only protest against with the whole +strength of our souls? Blindly, unflinchingly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Inevitably?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Even if uselessly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Her eyes met his squarely enough; there was +no sign of flinching in them.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you understand. For that's going to be our +life, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, James; that shall be our life." They got up and +took each other's hands for a moment, as though to seal +their compact, looking each other steadfastly in the eyes +meanwhile. They did not kiss again.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[268]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII2">CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p class="h3">ONE THING AND ANOTHER</p> + +<p>Seldom have we longed for anything so much as for +the pen of a Fielding or a Thackeray to come to our aid +at the present moment and, by means of just such a delightful +detached essay as occurs from time to time in "Tom +Jones" or "The Virginians," impart a feeling of the intermission +that at this point appears in our story. There is +nothing like a digression on human frailty or the condition +of footmen in the reign of King George the Second to +lift the mind of a reader off any particular moment of a +story and, by throwing a few useful hints into the discourse, +prepare him ever so gently to be set down at last +at the exact point where he is to take it up again. That +is making an art of skipping, indeed. We admire it intensely, +but realize how impossible it is in this case. Not +only is such a thing frankly outside our power, but the +prejudice of the times is set against it, so our only course +is to confess our weakness and plod along as best we may.</p> + +<p>Why on earth every human being who ever knew him +should not have known of his engagement as soon as it occurred—or +long before, for that matter—Harry could +never discover. That they did not, in most cases, was due +partly to reasons which could have been best explained by +James and partly to the fact that the person who is most +careless of concealment in such matters is very often the +one who is least suspected. And then so many men had +been after Madge! So that when the great news burst +upon the world at the dinner that Mrs. Gilson could not +decently be prevented from giving, the surprise, in the +words of ninety-nine per cent. of their well-meaning +friends, was as great as the pleasure.</p> + +<p>That occurred about a week after James' sudden departure +from Bar Harbor, a phenomenon amply accounted +for by business. Trouble in the Balkans—there always +was trouble in the Balkans—had resulted, it appeared, in<span class="pagenum">[269]</span> +Orders; and Orders demanded James' presence at his post. +This from Beatrice, with impregnable casualness. Beatrice +was really rather magnificent, these days. When she +received her invitation to Mrs. Gilson's dinner she vowed +that nothing should take her there, but the next moment +she knew she would go; that nothing should keep her from +going. Obviously the first guiding principle of destiny-fighting +was to go on exactly as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>About a week after the dinner Harry received a note +from his brother in New York saying that he was engaged +to Beatrice; that the wedding was to take place in London +in October and that he hoped Harry would go over with +him and act as his best man. "I refrained from mentioning +it before," added James, "because I did not want to +take the wind out of your sails. We are also enabled by +waiting to reap the benefit of your experience; I refer to +the Gilsons. We are taking no risks; it will appear in the +papers on Wednesday the sixteenth, with Beatrice in Bar +Harbor and me in New York. Beatrice sails the following +Saturday."</p> + +<p>That was all very well, if a little hard. James and +Beatrice were both undemonstrative, businesslike souls; +the arrangement was quite characteristic.</p> + +<p>Beatrice in due time sailed for home, and James followed +her some three weeks afterward. Harry went with +him, returning immediately after the wedding by the fastest +ship he could get; he was out of the country just +eighteen days, all told. The voyage over was an uneventful +one; the ship was nearly empty and Harry worked +hard at his new play. He had rather looked forward to +enjoying this last week of unmarried companionship with +his brother, but somehow they did not seem to have more +than usual to say to each other when they were together. +Rather less, in fact.</p> + +<p>"You're looking low, seems to me," said Harry after +they had paced the wet deck in silence for nearly half of +a certain evening.</p> + +<p>"I've been rather low, lately."</p> + +<p>"What—too much work?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. It's nothing."</p> + +<p>"Not seasick, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not." Both gave a slight snort expressive of +amusement. This was occasioned by the fact that Aunt<span class="pagenum">[270]</span> +Cecilia had offered James the use of her yacht—or rather +the largest and most sumptuous of her yachts—for his wedding +trip, and he and Beatrice were going to cruise for two +months in the Mediterranean. As for the time—well, he +was simply taking it, defying McClellan's to fire him if +they dared.</p> + +<p>"It's funny, isn't it, our getting engaged at the same +time," Harry went on after a moment. It was the first +reference he had made to the coincidence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said James, "it's one of the funniest things +I can remember."</p> + +<p>"And the funniest part of it is that neither of us seems +to have suspected about the other. At least I didn't."</p> + +<p>"Oh, neither did I; not a thing."</p> + +<p>"And practically nobody else did either, apparently."</p> + +<p>"No. It might have been just the other way round, +for all anybody knew—you and Beatrice, and Madge and +me."</p> + +<p>Harry could not but take away from that conversation +and from the whole voyage a vague feeling of disappointment. +Since he heard of James' engagement he had entertained +an elusive conviction that love coming into their +lives at so nearly the same time should somehow make a +difference for the better between them. When he tried to +put this idea into words, however, he found his mind +mechanically running to such phrases as "deeper sympathy" +and "fuller understanding," all of which he dismissed +as sentimental cant. It was easy to reassure himself +on all grounds of reason and commonsense; James +and he were in no need of fuller understandings. And +yet, especially after the above conversation, he could not +but be struck by a certain inapproachability in his brother +which for some reason he could not construe as natural undemonstrativeness.</p> + +<p>The wedding took place in an atmosphere of unconstrained +formality. Harry was not able to get a boat until +two days after it, and he could not resist the temptation +of writing Madge all about it that very night, though +he knew the letter could hardly reach her before he did:—</p> + +<p>"It was quite a small wedding, chiefly because, as far +as I can make out, there are only some thirty-odd dukes in +the kingdom. It occurred at the odd hour of 2:30, but +that didn't seem to prevent any one from enjoying the<span class="pagenum">[271]</span> +food, and more especially the drink, that was handed around +afterward at Lady Archie's. Lord Moville, Beatrice's +uncle, was there and seemed greatly taken with James. +After he had got outside about a quart of champagne he +amused himself by feeling James' biceps and thumping +him on the chest and saying that with a fortnight's training +he'd back him for anything he wanted against the +Somerset Cockerel, or some one of the sort, most of which +left James rather cold, though he bore it smiling. His +youngest daughter (Lord M.'s), a child of about eighteen, +apparently the only living person who has any control +over him, was quite frank about it. 'Fido's drunk again,' +she announced pleasantly to all who might hear. 'Oh, so's +Ned,' said Jane Twombly, Beatrice's sister; 'there's no use +trying to help it at weddings, I find!' Just then Lady +Archie came running up in despair. 'Oh, Sibyl,' she said, +'do try to do something with your father. He's been +threatening to take off his coat because he says the room's +too hot, and now he wants old Lady Mulford to kiss him!' +And off darts Sibyl into the dining-room where her father +and Ned Twombly stand arm in arm waving glasses of +champagne and shouting 'John Peel' at the top of their +lungs. 'Fido!' she shouted, running straight up to him, +'put down that glass directly and come home! Instantly! +Do you hear? You're disgracing us! The next time I +take you out to a wedding you'll know it!' 'Oh, Sib,' +pleaded the noble Marquis, 'don't be too hard on us! Only +drinkin' bride's health—must drink bride's health—not +good manners not to. Sib shall drink with us; here's a +glass, Sib—for his view, view HALLO! would awaken the +dead—' 'Fido, do you know what you're doing? You're +ruining your season's hunting! Gout-stool and Seidlitz +powders all the winter for you, if you don't go easy!' But +still Fido refused to obey till at last the dauntless child +went up and whispered something in his ear, after which +he calmed down and presently followed her out of the +house, gently as a lamb. 'She threatened to tell her mother +about the woman in Wimbledon,' explained Jane to me. +'Of course every one knows all there is to know about her, +including Aunt Susan, but he hasn't found that out yet, and +it gives Sib rather a strangle-hold on him. Good idea, isn't +it? Marjorie—Ned's sister, you know—has promised to +work the same trick for me with Ned, when the time comes.'<span class="pagenum">[272]</span> +I hope I am not more straight-laced than my neighbors, but +do you know, the whole atmosphere struck me as just a +teeny-weeny bit decadent...."</p> + +<p>After he reached home Harry saw that it would be quite +useless, what with Madge and other diverting influences, +to try to finish his play in New Haven, so he repaired to +the solitudes of the Berkshires for the remainder of the +autumn. He occupied two rooms in an almost empty inn +in Stockbridge, working and living for two months on a +strict régime. It was his habit to work from nine till half-past +one. He spent most of the afternoon in exercise and +the evening in more writing; not the calm, well-balanced +writing of the morning, but in feverish and untrammeled +scribbling. Each morning he had to write over all that he +had done the night before, but he found it well worth +while, discovering that reason and inspiration kept separate +office hours.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Madge, though freed from the trammels of +Miss Snellgrove, was very busy at home with her trousseau +and other matters. She was supremely happy these days; +happy even in Harry's absence, because she could feel +that he was doing better work than he could with her near, +and that provided just the element of self-sacrifice that +every woman—every woman that is worth anything—yearns +to infuse into her love. She had ample opportunity +of trying her hand at writing love letters, but, to +tell the truth, she was never very good at it. Neither was +Harry, for that matter; possibly because he was now putting +every ounce of creative power in him into something the +result of which justified the effort much better.... But +suppose we allow some of the letters to speak for themselves.</p> + +<blockquote><p>Dear Inamorato: (wrote Madge one day in November) +I'm not at all sure that that word exists; it looks so +odd in the masculine and just shows how the male sex more +or less spoils everything it touches. However! I've been +hemming towels all day and am ready to drop, but after I +finish with them there will be only the pillow cases to attend +to before I am done. By the bye, what do you +suppose arrived to-day? <i>Four</i> (heavily underscored) +most <i>exquisite</i> (same business) linen sheets, beautifully +hemstitched and marked and from who ("Good<span class="pagenum">[273]</span> +Heavens, and the woman taught school!" exclaimed Harry) +do you think? Miss Snellgrove! Wasn't it sweet of +her? That makes ten in all. Everybody has been lovely +and we shall do very well for linen, but clothes are much +more difficult. In them, you see, I have to please not only +myself but Mama and Aunt Tizzy as well. I went shopping +with both of them yesterday, and they were possessed +to make me order an evening gown of black satin with +yellow trimmings which was something like a gown Aunt +Tizzy had fascinated people in during the early eighties. +It wasn't such a bad idea, but unfortunately it would have +made me resemble a rather undersized wasp. We compromised +at last on a blue silk that's going to have a Watteau +pleat and will fall in nice little straight folds and make +me look about seven feet high. Aunt Tizzy is too perfectly +dear and keeps telling me not to scrimp, but her idea +of not scrimping is to spend simply <i>millions</i> and always go +ahead and get the very best in the <i>extravagantest</i> way, and +my conscience rebels. I hope to pick up some things at +the January sales in New York; if you are there seeing +about your play at that time we can be together, can't we? +I still have to get a suit and an afternoon gown and various +other things the nature of which I do not care to specify!</p> + +<p>I run over and look in on Aunt Selina every time I get +a chance. She is <i>so</i> dear and uncomplaining about being +left alone and keeps saying that having me in the house +will be as good as having Beatrice, which is absurd, though +sweet. Heavens, how I tremble when I think of trying to +fill her shoes!</p> + +<p>I must stop now, dearest, so good-night. Ever your +own,</p> + +<p class="author smcap">Madge</p> + +<div class="inset12"> +<p>O O O O O O</p> +</div> + +<p>Those O's stand for osculations. Do you know how +hard it is to kiss in a small space? Like tying a bow-knot +with too short a piece of ribbon.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>For Heaven's sake, my good woman (wrote Harry in +reply), don't write me another letter like that! How do +you think I feel when, fairly thirsting for fire and inspiration +and that sort of thing, I tear open an envelope from +you and find it contains an unusually chatty Woman's<span class="pagenum">[274]</span> +Column? How do you suppose poor old D. Alghieri would +have written his Paradiso if Beatrice had held forth on +the subject of linen sheets, and do you or do you not suppose +it would have improved Petrarch's sonnets if Laura +had treated him to a disquisition on the ins and outs of the +prices of evening gowns?</p> + +<p>Remember your responsibility! If you continue to +deny me inspiration my play will fail and you will live in +disgrace and misery in the basement of a Harlem tenement +in an eternal smell of cabbages and a well-justified fear +of cockroaches, with one cracked looking-glass to see your +face in and dinner served up in a pudding basin!</p> + +<p>The c. of my b. (that was his somewhat flippant abbreviation +of child of my brain) is coming along well +enough, considering. The woman is shaping quite well. +What was the name you suggested for her the last time I +saw you? If it was Hermione, I'm afraid it won't do, because +every one in the theater, from Bachmann down to +the call-boy, will call it Hermy-one, and I shall have to +correct them all, which will be a bad start. I call her +Mamie for the present, because I know I can't keep it. +What would be the worst possible name, do you think? +Hannah? Florrie? Mae? Keren-happuch and Glwadwys +also have their points.</p> + +<p>Please forgive me for being (a) short-tempered; (b) +tedious. I was going to tear up what I have written, only +I decided it would not be quite fair, as you have a right +to know just how dreadful I can be, in case you want to +change your mind about February.—What a discreetly +euphemistic phrase!—It has grown fearfully cold here, +and we had the first skating of the winter to-day. I got +hold of some skates and went out and, fired by the example +of two or three people here who skate rather well, I swore +I would do a 3-turn or die in the attempt. The latter +alternative occurred. I am writing this on the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>Farewell. Write early and write often, and write +Altman catalogues if you must, but not if you are interested +in the uplift of drahmah. Give my best to Grandmama, +and consider yourself embraced.</p> + +<p class="author smcap">Io El Rey.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Madge's reply to this missive was telegraphic in form and<span class="pagenum">[275]</span> +brief in substance. It read simply "Sorry. Laura." "I +would have signed it Beatrice," she explained in her next +letter, "only I was afraid you might think it was from your +sister-in-law Beatrice, and there's nothing for <i>her</i> to be +sorry about."</p> + +<p>Another letter of Harry's, written a few weeks later, +shows him in a different mood:</p> + +<blockquote><p>Querida de mis ojos—You don't know Spanish but you +ought to gather what that means without great effort—I +have weighty news for you. I dashed down to New York +on the spur of the moment day before yesterday and showed +the first draught of my completed MS to Leo. My dear, +he said IT WOULD DO! You don't know what that +means, of course; no one could. You all think I have simply +to write and say 'Here, play this,' and it is played. You +know nothing of how it hurts to put ideas on paper, nothing +of the dead weight of responsibility, the loneliness, the +self-distrust, the hate of one's own work that the creative +brain has to struggle against. Consequently, my dearest, +you will just have to take it on trust from me that an interview +such as I had yesterday with Bachmann is nothing +less than a rebirth. He even advised me not to try to +change or improve it much, saying that what changes were +needed could best be put in at rehearsals, and I think he's +dead right. So I shall do no more than put the third act +in shape before I hand the thing over to him and dash home +for the holidays. Atmosphere of Yule logs, holly berry +and mistletoe!</p> + +<p>I really am absurdly happy. You see, it isn't merely +success, or a premonition of success (for the first night is +still to come); it's in a way a justification of my whole life. +If this thing is as good as I think it is, it will amount to a +sort of written permit from headquarters to love you, to go +on thinking as I do think about certain things and to regard +myself—well, it's hard to put into words, but as a +dynamic force, rather than as a lucky fool that stumbled +across one rather good thing. Not that I shouldn't do all +three anyway, to be sure!—And every kind friend will +say he knew I would 'make good'; that there never was +any doubt my 'coming into my own,' and all the rest. Oh, +Lord, if people only knew! But thank Heaven they don't!</p> + +<p>I am becoming obscure and rhapsodic. I seem to 'see'<span class="pagenum">[276]</span> +things to-night, like Tilburina in the play. I see strange +and distorted conceptions of myself, for one thing; endless +and bewildering publicity. Oh, what a comfort it is to +think that no matter what I may be to other people, to you +I shall always be simply the same stupid, bungling, untidy</p> + +<p class="author smcap">Harry!</p> + +<p>I love you with an intensity that beggars the power of +human expression.</p> + +<p>I did a bracket this afternoon.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Madge never received a letter from him that pleased her +more. She was fully alive to its chaotic immaturity, and +she smiled at the way he unconsciously appeared to shove +his love for her into second place. But there was that about +it that convinced her of his greatness as nothing had yet +done. It seemed to her that when he spoke of the loneliness +of genius and in his prophetic touch at the end about +the different ways in which people would regard him he +spoke with the true voice of a seer. It all made her feel +very humble and solemn. To think that Harry, her Harry, +that tall thin thing with the pink cheeks and dark brown +hair and the restless black eyes, should be one of the great +men of his day, perhaps one of the great ones of all time! +Keats—Harry was already older than Keats when he died, +but she thought he had much the same temperament; Congreve—she +knew how he loved Congreve; Marlowe—she had +often compared his golden idealism to that of Marlowe; +Shakespeare...? No, no—of course not! She knew perfectly +well he was no Shakespeare.... Still, why not, in +time?... And anyway, Marlowe, Congreve, Keats—Wimbourne!</p> + +<p>So she dreamed on, till the future, which hitherto she had +seen as merely smiling toward her, seemed to rise and with +solemn face beckon her to a new height, a place hard to +reach and difficult to hold, but one whose very base seemed +more exalted than anything she had yet known....</p> + +<p>Now Madge was, on the whole, a very fairly modern type +of young woman. Her outlook on the world was based on +Darwin, and she held firmly to such eugenic principles as +seemed to flow directly from the doctrine of evolution. +She had long since declared war to the death on disease, +filth and vice, to which she added a lesser foe generally +known as "suppression of facts," and she had done a certain<span class="pagenum">[277]</span> +amount of real work in helping those less fortunate +than herself to the acquisition of health, cleanliness, virtue +and "knowledge." She thought that women would +get the vote some day, though they weren't ready for it +yet, and hadn't joined the Antis because there was no use +in being a drag on the wheels of progress, even if you +didn't feel like helping. She believed in the "social regeneration" +of woman. It was quite clear to her that in the +early years of the twentieth century women were beginning—and +only just beginning—to take their place beside +men in the active work of saving the race; "why, you had +only to look at Jane Addams and Florence Nightingale to +see—" et cetera.</p> + +<p>And yet, and yet....</p> + +<p>It was at least as fine a thing to become Mrs. Harold +Wimbourne and devote a lifetime to ministering to one of +the great creative geniuses of the time as to be a heavy gun +on her own account, was what she meant, of course. But +that wasn't quite enough. Suppose, for the sake of argument, +that Harry were not one of the great creative geniuses +of the age; suppose there were no question of Congreve, +Keats, Wimbourne and so forth; suppose being his wife +meant being plain Mrs. Harold Wimbourne and nothing +more—what then?</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose I'd still rather be plain Mrs. H. W., if +you will have it!" she retorted petulantly to her relentless +self. But she soon became glad she had brought herself to +the point of admitting it, for, the issue definitely settled, +her mind became unaccountably peaceful....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>New Year's was scarcely over when rehearsals began, +and Harry was in for another period of lounging in +shrouded orchestra chairs and watching other people air +their ideas, or lack of ideas, on the child of his brain. His +lounging was now, however, quite freely punctuated by interruptions +and not infrequently by scramblings over the +footlights to illustrate a fine point. This rather bored the +actors; Harry had become almost uncomfortably acute in +matter of stage technique. But they had to admit that +his suggestions were never foolish or unnecessary.</p> + +<p>In due time came the first night. It is no part of our +purpose to describe "Pastures New" or its success in this +place. If—which is improbable—you have to refresh your<span class="pagenum">[278]</span> +mind on it, you have only to ask one of your journalistic +friends—don't pretend that you haven't at least one friend +on a newspaper—to show you the files of his sheet. There +you will see it all, in what scholars call primary sources:—"New +Yorkers Roar With Delight at Feminist Satire," +and all the rest of it, like as not on the front page. Harry +hated its being called a satire; that was such a cheap and +easy way of getting out of it. For when all was over, +when people had cried with laughing at its whimsical humor, +poked each other with delight at its satirical touches—oh +yes, there were plenty of them—quoted its really brilliant +dialogue, sat enthralled by its swift and compelling action—for +Harry had made good his promise that this play +should have "punch"—when they had done all these things +to their heart's content, still not a person saw the play who +did not come away from it more fully convinced than ever +he had been of—well, of what you had only to look at Jane +Addams and Florence Nightingale to see. For there were +really great moments in the play; moments when no one +even thought of laughing, though one was almost always +made to laugh the moment after. That was Harry's way, +that was his power, to "hit 'em hard and then make 'em +laugh just as they begin to feel smarty in the eyes," as +Burchard the stage manager not unaptly put it.</p> + +<p>"Pastures New" ran for six months in New York alone, +and no one laughed harder or less rancorously at it than the +"feminists" themselves—or all of them that were worth +anything.</p> + +<p>Of course both Harry and Madge were tired to death by +the time the wedding became imminent, and the final +preparations were made in what might be called broad impressionistic +strokes.</p> + +<p>Madge had at first intended to have a small informal reception +in her own house, but Aunt Tizzy had been so disappointed +that she had at last consented to let it be at her +aunt's and attain the dimensions of a perfect tomasha—the +phrase is her own—if it wanted to. Why not? Aunt +Tizzy's house could hold it.</p> + +<p>"Besides, my dear," argued Harry, "it's only once in a +lifetime, after all. If you marry again as a widow you'll +only have a silly little wedding, without a veil and no +bridesmaids, and if we're divorced you won't have any<span class="pagenum">[279]</span> +wedding at all, worth mentioning. Much better do it up +brown when you have the chance."</p> + +<p>"What about music?" asked Harry as the two stood in +final consultation with the organist on the night of the +rehearsal. "I've always wondered why people had such +perfectly rotten music at weddings, but I begin to see now. +Still, if we <i>could</i> have something other than Lohengrin +and Mendelssohn I think I could face marriage with a +little better heart. What about it, dear?"</p> + +<p>Madge groaned. "Oh, anything! The Star-Spangled +Banner, if you want!"</p> + +<p>"I think I can arrange it," said the organist smiling, and +he played the march from "Tannhäuser" and the march +from "Athalie," which he always played when people +asked for something unusual, and the effect was considered +very pleasing and original. Altogether it was the prettiest +wedding any one had seen in years, according to the testimony +of those who attended the reception—which did become +a perfect tomasha. But as tomasha-goers are notoriously +biased their testimony probably wasn't legal and no +respectable judge would have accepted it as evidence. The +only legal thing about the whole affair was the ceremony, +which was fully as much so as if it had been before a magistrate, +which Madge swore it should be if she ever had to go +through it again and regretted bitterly it hadn't been this +time.... Well, perhaps, when she looked about her and +saw how unaffectedly happy her mother and Aunt Tizzy +and the bridesmaids and all the other good people were, +she didn't regret it quite so much.</p> + +<p>"Though it is rather absurd, getting married to please +other people, isn't it?" she remarked as they drove off at +last, leaving the tomasha-goers to carouse as long as Aunt +Tizzy could make them.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd do almost anything to please Aunt Tizzy," +said Harry. "Now that it's all over, that is. Get married +again, even.... After all," he added suddenly, shamelessly +going back on all his professions of the last few days; +"after all, you know, it <i>was</i> rather a good wedding!"</p> + +<p>Which shows that he was just as biased as any one, at +bottom!</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[280]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX2">CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p class="h3">LABYRINTHS</p> + +<p>How many people should you say could be packed into +a three-hundred foot barkantine-rigged steam yacht, +capable of fourteen knots under steam alone, for a night +in late June, presumably hot, anchored in a noisy estuary +off Long Island Sound without making them all wish they +had never been born? We ourselves should hate to have +to answer the question offhand. So did Aunt Cecilia, whom +it concerned more closely than any one else, and she did not +have to answer it offhand at all, having all the available +statistics within reach. In fact, she had spent the best +part of one hot New York June morning over it already, +sitting in her darkened front drawing-room because it was +the coolest room in the house, amid ghost-like furniture +whose drab slip-covers concealed nothing less than real +Louis Quinze. On her lap—or what Uncle James said if +she didn't look out wouldn't be her lap very long—she +held a magazine and over the magazine an expensive piece +of letter-paper, on one leaf of which was a list of names +and on the other a plan drawn in wobbly and unarchitectural +lines—obviously a memory sketch of the sleeping accommodations +of the <i>Halcyone</i>. Near what even in the +sketch was undoubtedly the largest and most comfortable +of the <i>Halcyone's</i> cabins she had written in firm unmistakable +letters the word "Me," and opposite two other +rooms she had inscribed in only slightly less bold characters +the initials "H. and M." and "J. and B." So far so good; +why not go on thus as long as the list or the cabins held and +consider the problem solved? It wasn't as simple as that, +it seemed. Some of the people hadn't been asked, or might +be asked only if there was room enough, and the boys might +bring in people at the last moment; it was very confusing. +And not even the extent of the sleeping accommodations +was as constant as might have been desired. It was +ridiculous, of course, but even after all these years she +could not be quite sure whether there were two little single<span class="pagenum">[281]</span> +rooms down by the galley skylight or only one. She was +practically sure there were two, but suppose she were mistaken? +And then, if it came to that, the boys and almost +as many friends as they cared to bring might sleep on the +smoking-room sofas....</p> + +<p>"No ... no, I'm not sure how wise that would be," +she mused, certain things she had seen and been told of +boat-race celebrations straying into her mind. "The +smoking-room cushions have only just been covered...."</p> + +<p>A ring at the doorbell. She glanced up at a pierglass +(also Louis Quinze) opposite her and strained her eyes at +its mosquito-netting covered surface. Her hair was far +from what she could have wished; she hoped it would be +no one she would have to see. Oh, Beatrice.</p> + +<p>"Howdy do, dear," said Aunt Cecilia, relieved. "I +was just thinking of you. I'm trying to plan out about +the boat-race; it's less than a week off now."</p> + +<p>Beatrice sank languidly down on the other end of Aunt +Cecilia's sofa. She was much hotter and more fatigued +than Aunt Cecilia, but no one would have guessed it to look +at her. Her clothes lay coolly and caressingly on her; not +a hair seemed out of place.</p> + +<p>"You see," went on the other, "it's rather difficult to +arrange, on account of there being so many unmarried people—just +the Lyles and the MacGraths and George Grainger +for us older ones and the rest all Muffins' and Jack's +friends. I think we shall work out all right, though, with +two rooms at the Griswold and the smoking-room to overflow +into. I'm tired of bothering about it. Tell me about +yourself."</p> + +<p>"Nothing much," answered Beatrice. "I much prefer +hearing about you. By the way—about the races. I just +dropped in to tell you about Tommy Clairloch. He's coming. +You did tell me to ask him, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes ... oh, yes, of course. I had forgotten about +Lord Clairloch for the moment. I thought he was going +west the middle of the month."</p> + +<p>"He was, but he didn't. Tommy's rather a fool." +Tommy, it may be mentioned, was in the process of improving +himself by making a trip around the world, going westward. +He had left home in April and so far Upper Montclair +was his farthest point west. As Beatrice said, Tommy +was rather a fool.<span class="pagenum">[282]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, not a bit ... only.... By the bye, dear, do you +happen to remember whether there are one or two rooms +down that little hall by the galley?"</p> + +<p>"Two, as I remember it. But don't bother about Tommy. +Really, Aunt Cecilia, don't. He needn't come at all—I'll +tell him he can't."</p> + +<p>"Of course he must come.... That's it—I'll put him in +the other little single room and tell the boys that they and +any one else they ask from now on must go to the Griswold +or sleep in the smoking-room. I'm glad to have it +settled."</p> + +<p>Aunt Cecilia beamed as one does when a difficult problem +is solved. It occurred to her that Beatrice might beam +back at her just a tiny bit, if only in mock sympathy. +Especially as it was her guest.... But Beatrice remained +just as casual as before, sitting easily but immovably in her +corner of the sofa with her parasol lying lightly in her slim +gloved hands. Aunt Cecilia noticed those hands rather +especially; it seemed scarcely human to keep one's gloves +on in the house on a day like this! Characteristically, she +gave her thought outlet in words.</p> + +<p>"Do take off your gloves and things, dear, and make +yourself comfortable! Such a day! New York in June is +frightful—eighty-eight yesterday, and Heaven knows what +it will be to-day. You'll stay to lunch, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, perhaps I will," replied Beatrice listlessly.</p> + +<p>"I never have stayed in town so late in June," ran on +Aunt Cecilia, "but I thought I wouldn't open the Tarrytown +house this spring—it's only for six weeks and it is +so much extra trouble.... I shall take the yacht and the +boys directly on up to Bar Harbor afterward; we should +love to have you come with us, if you feel like leaving +James—you're looking so fagged. You must both come +and pay us a long visit later on, though I suppose with +Harry and Madge in the Berkshires you'll be running up +there quite often for week-ends...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice stirred a little. "Thanks, Aunt Cecilia, but +I don't mind the heat especially. If James can bear it, I +can, I suppose. I expect to stay here most of the summer."</p> + +<p>She was perfectly courteous, and yet it suddenly occurred +to Aunt Cecilia that perhaps she wouldn't be quite so free +in showering invitations on Beatrice and James for a while. +There was that about her, as she sat there.... Languid,<span class="pagenum">[283]</span> +that was the word; there had been a certain languor, not +due to hot weather, in Beatrice's reception of most of her +favors, now that she came to think of it. There had been +that wedding trip in the <i>Halcyone</i>, to begin with. Both +she and James had shown a due amount of gratitude, but +neither, when you came right down to it, had given any particular +evidence of having enjoyed it. Everything was as +it should be, no doubt, but—one didn't lend yachts without +expecting to have them enjoyed!</p> + +<p>"That trip cost me over five thousand dollars," she had +remarked to her husband shortly after the return of the +bridal pair. "Of course I don't grudge it, but five thousand +dollars is a good deal of money, and I'd rather have +subscribed it to the Organized Charities than feel I was +spending it to give those two something they didn't want!"</p> + +<p>Aunt Cecilia gazed anxiously at Beatrice for a moment, +memories of this sort floating vaguely through her mind. +She scented trouble, somewhere. The next minute she +thought she had diagnosed it.</p> + +<p>"You're bored, dear, that's the long and the short of it, +and I think I know what's the matter. I'm not sure that I +didn't feel a little that way myself, at the very first. But +I soon got over it. My dear, there's nothing in the world +like a baby to drive away boredom...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice tapped with the end of her parasol on what in +winter would have been a pink and gray texture from +Aubusson's storied looms but was now simply a parquet +flooring. But she did not blush, not in the slightest degree.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, a trifle wearily, "I daresay you're +right. Sometimes I think I would like to have a baby. It +doesn't seem to come, though.... After all, it's rather +early to bother, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't want you to <i>bother</i>—! Only—" She was +just a little taken aback. This barren agreement, this lack +of natural shyness, of blushes! It was unprecedented in +her experience.</p> + +<p>"Only what, Aunt Cecilia?"</p> + +<p>"Only—it's a sure cure for being bored. But Beatrice, +there must be others, while you're waiting. What about +your studies, your work? You haven't done much of that +since you came home from abroad, have you? It's too late +to begin anything this summer, of course, but next autumn<span class="pagenum">[284]</span> +I should think you'd like to take it up again, especially as +you don't care so much for society, and I'm sure I don't +blame you for that...." She beamed momentarily on her +niece, who this time smiled back ever so slightly in return. +"After all, it's nice to be of some use in the world, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Why not have left it there, on that secure impregnable +pinnacle? Why weaken her position by giving voice to that +silly unprovoked fancy that had hung about the back of +her mind since the beginning of the interview, or very near +it? We can't explain, unless the sudden suspicion that +Beatrice had smiled less with than at her, and the sight +of her sitting there so beautiful and aloof, so well-bredly +acquiescent and so emotionally intangible, exercised an +ignoble influence over her. There is a sort of silent acquiescence +that is very irritating.... And after all, was +the impulse so ignoble? A word of warning of the most +affectionate kind, prompted by the keenest sympathy—surely +it was wholly Beatrice's fault if anything went +wrong!</p> + +<p>"More than that, my dear, there's a certain danger in +being too idle—a danger I'm sure you're as free from as +any one could be, but you know what the psalm says!" +(Or was it original with Isaac Watts? However!) "Of +course marriage isn't so easy, especially in the first year, +and especially if there are no children—what with the husband +away at work all day and tired to death and like as +not cross as a bear when he comes home in the evening—I +know!—a young wife can't be blamed for feeling a little +out of sorts sometimes. And then along comes another +man...."</p> + +<p>Here Beatrice, to use a sporting expression, froze. From +that moment it ceased to be question of two women talking +together and became a matter of Aunt Cecilia apostrophizing +a statue; a modern conception, say, of Artemis. Marble +itself could not be more unresponsive than Beatrice when +people tried to "get at her." It was not rudeness, it was +not coldness, it was not even primarily self-consciousness; +it was the natural inability to speak of matters deeply concerning +oneself which people of Aunt Cecilia's temperament +can never fully understand.</p> + +<p>"Of course other men have things to offer that husbands +have not, especially if they are free in the daytime and are +nice and good-natured and sympathetic, and often a young<span class="pagenum">[285]</span> +wife may be deceived into valuing these things more than +the love of her husband. They are all at their best on the +surface, while her husband's best is all below it. And that, +I think, is the way most married unhappinesses begin; not +in unfaithfulness or in jealousy or in loss of love, but +merely in idleness. I've seen it happen so often, dear, +that you must be able to understand why I never like to see +a young wife with too little to do...."</p> + +<p>For Aunt Cecilia was personal, you see, to a degree. +Did she imagine she was making things any easier, Beatrice +asked herself with a little burst of humorous contempt, by +her generalities and her third persons and her "young +wives"? If she had been perfectly frank, if she had come +out and said, "Beatrice, if you don't look out you'll be +falling in love with Tommy Clairloch," there was a possibility +that Beatrice could have answered her, even confided +in her; at least put things on a conversational footing. But +as for talking about her own case in this degrading disguise, +dramatizing herself as a "young wife"—!</p> + +<p>She remained silent long enough to make it obvious that +her silence was her real reply. Then she said "Yes, indeed, +perfectly," and Aunt Cecilia rather tardily became aware +of her niece's metamorphosis into the modern Artemis. +She made a flurried attempt to give her own remarks, +retrospectively, something of the Artemis quality; to place +a pedestal, as it were, on which to take her own stand as a +modern conception of Pallas Athene.</p> + +<p>"I hope, my dear, you don't think I mean anything...."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Beatrice kindly but firmly. "And +now if you don't mind, Aunt Cecilia, I think I'll go up and +get ready for luncheon."</p> + +<p>But Aunt Cecilia was afraid she had gone too far.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A week later came the gathering of the clans at New +London for the Yale-Harvard boat-race. Aunt Cecilia had +not been to a race in years. Races, you see, were not in a +class with graduations; they were optional, works of +supererogation. But this year, in addition to one of the +largest yachts extant and money that fairly groaned to be +put into circulation, she had two boys in college, and altogether +it seemed worth while "making an effort." And the +effort once made there was a certain pleasure in doing the +thing really well, in taking one's place as one of the great<span class="pagenum">[286]</span> +Yale families of the country. So on the afternoon before +the race the <i>Halcyone</i> was anchored in a conspicuous place +in the harbor, where she loomed large and majestic among +the smaller craft, and a tremendous blue flag with a white +Y on it was hoisted between two of the masts. People from +the shore looked for her name with field glasses and pointed +her out to each other as "the Wimbourne yacht" with a +note of awe in their voices.</p> + +<p>"It's like being on the <i>Victory</i> at Trafalgar, as far as +conspicuousness goes," said Harry on his arrival. "Or +rather," he added magnificently, "like being on Cleopatra's +galley at Actium."</p> + +<p>"Absit omen," remarked Uncle James, and the others +laughed, but his wife paid no attention to him. She was +not above a little thrill of pride and pleasure herself.</p> + +<p>Muffins and Jack and their friends were much in evidence; +the party was primarily for the "young people." +They kept mostly to themselves, dancing and singing and +making personal remarks together, always detaching themselves +with a polite attentive quirk of the head when an +older person addressed them. Nice children, all of them. +Muffins and Jack were of the right sort, emphatically, and +their friends were obviously—not too obviously, but just +obviously enough—chosen with nice discriminating taste. +Jack especially gave one the impression of having a fine +appreciation of people and things; that of Muffins was +based on rather broad athletic lines. Muffins played football. +Ruth, the brains of the family, was not present; we +forget whether she was running a summer camp for cash +girls or exploring the headwaters of the Yukon; it was +something modern and expensive. Ruth was not extensively +missed by her brothers.</p> + +<p>They all dined hilariously together on the yacht and repaired +to the Griswold afterward to dance and revel through +the evening. All, that is, except Beatrice and James; they +did not arrive till well on in the evening, James having been +unable to leave town till his day's work was over. The +launch with Uncle James in it went to the station to meet +them and brought them directly back to the yacht to get +settled and tidied up; they could go on over to the Griswold +for a bit, if they weren't too tired.</p> + +<p>"How about it?" inquired James as he stood peering at +his watch in the dim light on deck.<span class="pagenum">[287]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, just as you like," said Beatrice.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't care. Say something."</p> + +<p>Beatrice was rather tired.... Well, perhaps it was better +that way; they would have another chance to see all +they wanted to-morrow night. This from Uncle James, +who thought he would drop over there and relieve Aunt +Cecilia, who had been chaperoning since dinner.</p> + +<p>His head disappeared over the ship's side. James walked +silently off to unpack. Beatrice sank into a wicker armchair +and dropped her head on her hands....</p> + +<p>It seemed as if scarcely a moment had passed when she +became aware of the launch again coming up alongside and +voices floating up from it—Aunt Cecilia and Lord Clairloch. +Salutations ensued, avuncular and friendly. Aunt +Cecilia was tired, but very cheerful. She buzzed off presently +to see about something and Lord Clairloch dropped +down by Beatrice.</p> + +<p>Tommy was very cheerful also, apparently much impressed +by what he had seen at the Griswold. "I say, a +jolly bean-feast, that! Never saw such dancin' or drinkin' +in my life, and I've lived a bit! They keep 'em apart, +too—that's the best of it; no trouble about takin' a gell, +provided she don't go to the bar, which ain't likely.... +Jove, we've got nothing like it in England! Rippin' looking +lot of gells, rippin' fellahs, rippin' good songs, too. +All seem to enjoy 'emselves so much!—I say, these +Yankees can teach us a thing or two about havin' a good +time—wot?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice listened with a growing sense of amusement. +Tommy always refreshed her when he was in a mood like +this; he kept his youth so wonderfully, in spite of all his +super-sophistication; he was such a boy still. Tommy never +seemed to mind being hot or tired; Tommy was always +ready for anything; Tommy was not the sort that came +home at six o'clock and sank into the evening paper without +a word—She stopped that line of thought and asked a +question.</p> + +<p>"Why did you leave it all, Tommy, if it amused you so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, had enough of it—been there since dinner. Beside, +I heard you'd come. Thought I'd buzz over and see +how you were gettin' on. Have a horrid journey?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice nodded.</p> + +<p>"Hot?"<span class="pagenum">[288]</span></p> + +<p>"No, not especially." They were silent a moment. +Tommy opened his mouth to ask a question and shut it +again. And then, walking like a ghost across their silence, +appeared the figure of James, stalking aimlessly down the +deck. He nodded briefly to Tommy and walked off again.</p> + +<p>The effect, in view of the turn of their conversation, of +Tommy's unasked question, was almost that of a spectral +apparition. The half-light of the deck, James' silence and +the noiseless tread of his rubber-soled shoes had in themselves +an uncanny quality. Presently Tommy whistled +softly, as though to break the spell.</p> + +<p>"Whew! I say, is he often like that?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice laughed. Tommy <i>was</i> refreshing! "Lately, +yes. Do you know," she added, "he only spoke twice on +the way up here—once to ask me if I was ready to have +dinner, and once what I wanted for dinner?" Her tone +was one of suppressed amusement, caught from Tommy; +but before her remark was fairly finished something rather +like a note of alarm rang through her. Why had she said +that? It wasn't so frightfully amusing, come to think of +it. Her pleasure, she saw in a flash, came not from the remark +itself but from her anticipation of seeing Tommy respond +to it....</p> + +<p>That was rather serious, wasn't it? Just how serious, +she wondered? Joy in seeing another man respond to a +disparaging remark about her husband—that was what it +came to! For the first time in her life she had the sensation +of reveling in a stolen joy. For of course Tommy did +respond, beautifully—too beautifully. "Oh, I say! +Really, now! That <i>is</i> a trifle strong, wot?" and so on. +He was doing exactly what she had meant him to, and there +was a separate pleasure in that—a zest of power!</p> + +<p>Heavens!</p> + +<p>For the first time she began to feel a trifle nervous about +Tommy. Was Aunt Cecilia right? Had all her careful +euphemisms about young wives some basis of justification +as applied to her own case? She and Tommy.... Well, +she and Tommy?... Half an hour ago she could have +placed them perfectly; now her sight was a trifle blurred. +There was not time to think it all out now, anyway; another +boatload of people from the shore was even now +crowding up the gangway; to-morrow she would go into +the matter thoroughly with herself and put things, whatever<span class="pagenum">[289]</span> +they might be, on a definite business footing. To-night, +even, if she did not sleep....</p> + +<p>Everybody was back, it appeared, and things shortly became +festive. There were drinks and sandwiches and entertaining +reminiscences of the evening from the young people, +lasting till bedtime. Thought was out of the question.</p> + +<p>Once undressed and in bed, to be sure, there was better +opportunity. She slipped comfortably down between the +sheets; what a blessing that the night was not too hot, after +all! Aunt Cecilia had said ... what was it that Aunt +Cecilia had said? Something about a young wife—a young +wife ought to have something to do. Of course. These +were linen sheets, by the way, and the very finest linen, at +that. Aunt Cecilia did know how to do things.... What +was it? Something more, she fancied, about valuing something +more than something else. Tommy Clairloch was +the first thing, she was sure of that. Aunt Cecilia had not +said it, but she had meant it.... She was going to sleep, +after all; what a blessing!... What was that other thing? +It was hard to think when one was so comfortable. Oh, +yes, she had it now—the love of a husband!</p> + +<p>Whose husband? The young wife's, to be sure. And +who was the young wife? She herself, obviously. But—the +thought flared up like a strong lamp through the thickening +fog of her brain—<i>her</i> husband did not love her! She +and James were not like ordinary young wives and husbands.... +How silly of her not to have seen that before! +That changed everything, of course. Aunt Cecilia was on +a wrong track altogether; her—what was the word?—her +premises were false. That threw out her whole argument—everything—including +that about Tommy.</p> + +<p>Gradually the sudden illumination of that thought faded +in the evergrowing shadow of sleep. Now only vague wisps +of ideas floated through her mind; even those were but +pale reflections of that one truth; Aunt Cecilia was mistaken.... +Aunt Cecilia was wrong.... It was all right +about Tommy.... Tommy was all right.... Aunt Cecilia +... was wrong....</p> + +<p>Psychologists tell us that ideas make most impression on +the mind when they are introduced into it during that indefinite +period between sleeping and waking; they then +become incorporated directly with our subconscious selves +without having to pass through the usual tortuous channels<span class="pagenum">[290]</span> +of consciousness and reason. And the sub-consciousness, +as every one knows, is a most intimate and important place; +once an idea is firmly grounded there it has become substantially +a part of our being, so far as we can tell from +our incomplete knowledge of our own ideal existence. We +are not sure that a single introduction of this sort can give +an idea a good social standing in the realm of sub-consciousness; +probably not. But it can help; it can give it at least +a nodding acquaintance there. Certain it is, at any rate, +that when Beatrice awoke next morning it was with a +mind at least somewhat more willing than previously to +take for granted, as part of the natural order of things, +the fact of the inherent wrongness of Aunt Cecilia and its +corollary, the innate rightness of Tommy. (Possibly this +corollary would not have appeared so inevitable if the matter +had all been threshed out in reason; they are rather lax +about logic and such things in sub-consciousness, making a +good introduction the one criterion of acceptance.) With +the net material result that Beatrice was less inclined than +ever to be nervous about Aunt Cecilia and also less inclined +than ever to be nervous about Tommy.</p> + +<p>The day began in an atmosphere of not unpleasant indolence. +Breakfast was late and was followed by the best +cigarette of the day on deck—Beatrice's smoking was the +secret admiration and envy of all the female half of the +younger section. A cool breeze ruffled the harbor and +gathered in a flock of clouds from the Sound that left only +just enough sunlight to bring out the brilliant colors of +the little flags all the yachts had strung up between their +mastheads and down again to bowsprit and stern. It was +rather pleasant to sit and watch these and other things; the +continual small traffic of the harbor, the occasional arrivals +of more slim white yachts.</p> + +<p>Presently Harry and Madge and Beatrice and Tommy +and one or two others made a short excursion to the shore, +for no other apparent reason than to join the procession +of smartly dressed people that for one day in the year +convert the quiet town of New London into one of the gayest-looking +places on earth. Tommy was much in evidence +here, fairly crowing with delight over each new thing that +pleased him. It was all Harry could do to keep him from +swathing himself in blue; Tommy had become an enthusiastic +Yalensian. He had spent a week-end with Harry<span class="pagenum">[291]</span> +in New Haven during the spring; he had driven with Aunt +Selina in the victoria, he had been shown the university +and had met a number of pretty gells and rippin' fellahs; +what business was it of Wiggers if he wanted to wave a +blue flag? Wiggers ought to feel jolly complimented, instead +of makin' a row!</p> + +<p>"You'd say just the same about Harvard, if you went +there—the people are just as nice," said Harry. "Besides, +Harvard will probably win. You may buy us each a blue +feather, if you like, and call it square at that."</p> + +<p>Beatrice smiled, but she thought Harry a little hard.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Tommy," said she; "you can sit by me +at the race this afternoon and we'll both scream our lungs +out, if we want."</p> + +<p>That was substantially what happened. Luncheon on +the yacht—an enormous "standing" affair, with lots of +extra people—was followed by a general exodus to the +observation trains. Tommy had never seen an observation +train before and was full of curiosity. They didn't have +them at Henley. It was all jolly different from Henley, +wasn't it, though? As they walked through the railroad +yards to their car he was inclined to think it wasn't as +good fun as Henley. One missed the punts, and all that. +Once seated in the car, however, with an unobstructed view +of the river, it was a little better, and by the time the +crews had rowed up to the starting-point he had almost +come round to the American point of view. It might not +be so jolly as Henley, quite, but Jove! one could see!</p> + +<p>Tommy sat on Beatrice's left; on her right was Mr. MacGrath +and beyond him again was Aunt Cecilia. The +others were scattered through the train in similar mixed +groups. Beatrice thought it a good idea to split up that +way.... She began to have an idea she was going to enjoy +this race.</p> + +<p>So she did, too, more than she had enjoyed anything in—oh, +months! She couldn't remember much about it afterward, +though she did remember who won, which is more +than we do. She had a recollection, to begin with, of +Tommy joining in lustily in every Yale cheer and of Mr. +MacGrath trying not to thump Aunt Cecilia on the back +at an important moment and thumping herself instead. +He apologized very nicely. Presently Tommy committed +the same offense against her and neglected to apologize<span class="pagenum">[292]</span> +entirely, but she didn't mind in the least. (That was the +sort of race it was.) Perhaps there lurked in the back +of her brain a certain sense of joy in the omission.... +She herself became infected with Tommy-mania before +long.</p> + +<p>And the spectacle was an exhilarating one, under any +circumstances. The noble sweep of the river, the keen +blue of the water and sky, the green of the hills, the brilliant +double row of yachts and the general atmosphere of +hilarity were enough to make one glad to be alive. And +then the excitement of the race itself, the sense of participation +the motion of the train gave one, the almost painful +fascination of watching those two little sets of automatons, +the involuntary, electric response from the crowd when one +or the other of them pulled a little into the lead, the thrill +of bursting out from behind some temporary obstruction +and seeing them down there, quite near now, entering the +last half-mile with one's own crew just a little, ever so +little, ahead! From which moment it seemed both a second +and an age to the finish, that terrific, heart-raising +finish, with its riot of waving colors and its pandemonium +of toots from the water and cries from the land....</p> + +<p>On the whole, we suppose Yale must have won that +race. For after all, it isn't quite so pleasant when the +other crew wins, no matter how close the race was and no +matter how good a loser one happens to be. Tommy was +as good a loser as you could easily find, but not even he +could have been as cheerful as all that on the ride back if +his crew had lost. Indeed, cheerful was rather a weak +word with which to describe Tommy by this time. Beatrice, +doing her best to calm him down, became aware, from +glances shot at him from various—mostly feminine—directions, +that some people would have characterized his condition +by a much sharper and shorter word. Involuntarily, +almost against her will, Beatrice indignantly repelled their +accusation. What nonsense! They didn't know Tommy; +he was naturally like this. Though there had been champagne +at lunch, of course....</p> + +<p>Rather an interesting experience, that ride back to town. +The enforced inactivity gave one a chance to think, in the +intervals of tugging at Tommy's coat tails. Why should +she be enjoying herself so ridiculously? Whole-souled +enjoyment was not a thing she had been accustomed to<span class="pagenum">[293]</span> +during the last few years, at any rate since.... Yes, she +had enjoyed herself more this afternoon than at any time +since she had been married; but what of it? She attached +no blame to James; it was not James' fault; nothing was +anybody's fault. She was taking a little, a very little fun +where she found it, that was all.</p> + +<p>The train pulled up in the yards and thought was discontinued. +It was resumed a few minutes later, however, +as they sat in the launch, waiting for the rest of their party +to join them. She happened to be sitting just opposite to +Aunt Cecilia, on whom her eyes idly rested. Aunt Cecilia! +What about Aunt Cecilia? She was wrong, of course! +She did not understand; she was wrong! Tommy was all +right....</p> + +<p>So sub-consciousness got in its little work, till conscious +reason sallied forth and routed it. Oh, why, Beatrice asked +herself, with a mental motion as of throwing off an entangling +substance, why all this nonsensical worrying about +a danger that did not exist? What danger was there of +her—making a fool of herself over Tommy when.... She +did not follow that thought out; it was better to leave those +"when" clauses hanging in the air, when possible.</p> + +<p>But Tommy! Poor, good-natured, simple, ineffective +Tommy!</p> + +<p>She resolved to think no longer, but to give herself entirely +over to what slight pleasure the moment had to offer +She dressed and dined in good spirits, with a sense of anticipation +almost childlike in its innocence.</p> + +<p>After dinner there was a general exodus to the Griswold. +From the moment she stepped on to the hotel dock, +surrounded by its crowd of cheerfully bobbing launches, +she became infected with the prevailing spirit of gaiety. +Tommy was right; Americans did know how to enjoy +themselves!</p> + +<p>They made their way up the lawn toward the big brilliant +hotel. They reached the door of the ballroom and +stopped a moment. In this interval Beatrice became aware +of James at her elbow.</p> + +<p>"You'd better dance with me first," he said.</p> + +<p>They danced two or three times around the room in +complete silence. Beatrice did not in the least mind dancing +with James, indeed she rather enjoyed it, he danced +so well. But why address her in that sepulchral tone; why<span class="pagenum">[294]</span> +make his invitation sound like a threat; why not at least +put up a pretense of making duty a pleasure? She was +conscious of a slight rise of irritation; if James was going +to be a skeleton at this feast.... She was relieved when +he handed her over to one of the other men.</p> + +<p>But James had no intention of being a skeleton. He +went back to bed before any of the others, alleging a +headache. Beatrice learned this indirectly, through +Harry, and felt rather disappointed. She would have +preferred to have him remain and enjoy himself; she did +not bother to explain why. But he was apparently determined +that nothing should make him enjoy himself. +James was rather irritating, sometimes. She said as much, +to Harry, who assented, frowning slightly. She saw a +chance to get in some of the small work of destiny-fighting.</p> + +<p>"He's not been at all natural lately," she said; "I've +been quite worried about him. I wish you'd watch him +and tell me what to do about it. I feel rather to blame +for it, naturally."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't worry," said Harry. "Working in +the city in summer is hard on any one, of course."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's more than that, and I want your help. +You understand James better than I do, I think."</p> + +<p>"No, you're wrong there. I don't understand James at +all. No one really understands any one else, as a matter +of fact. We think we do, but we don't. The very simplest +nature is a regular Cretan labyrinth."</p> + +<p>"But a wife ought to be the Theseus of her husband's +labyrinth, that's the point."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you're right. Here's hoping you don't find +a minotaur in the middle!"</p> + +<p>She didn't worry much about it, however. Tommy cut +in soon afterward, and they didn't talk about James or +labyrinths either. Tommy had not danced with her before +that evening. She was going to say something about that, +but decided not to. It was too jolly dancing to talk, really. +Tommy danced very well—quite as well as James. They +danced the contemporary American dances for some time +and then they broke into an old-fashioned whirling English +waltz; the dance they had both been brought up on. It +brought memories to the minds of both; they felt old times +and places creeping back on them.<span class="pagenum">[295]</span></p> + +<p>"Do you remember the last time we did this?" asked +Tommy presently.</p> + +<p>"At the Dimchurches', the winter before I came here."</p> + +<p>"Didn't last long, though. You were the prettiest gell +there."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I was.—And you were just Tommy Erskine +then, and awfully ineligible!"</p> + +<p>What an absurd remark to make! If she was going to +let her tongue run away with her like that, she had better +keep her mouth shut.</p> + +<p>They danced on in silence for some time, rested in the +cool of a verandah and then danced again. The room was +already beginning to empty somewhat, making dancing +more of a pleasure than ever. They danced on till they +were tired and then sat out again.</p> + +<p>"We might take a stroll about," suggested Tommy presently.</p> + +<p>They walked down the steps and out on the lawn. +Presently they came near the windows of the bar, which +was on the ground floor of the hotel, and stopped to look +in for a moment. It was a lively scene. The room—a +great white bare place—was filled with men laughing and +shouting and slapping each other on the shoulder and bellowing +college songs, all in a thick blue haze of tobacco +smoke. They were also drinking, and Beatrice noticed +that when they had drained their glasses they invariably +threw them carelessly on the floor, adding a new sound +to the din and fairly paving the room with broken glass. +Many of them were mildly intoxicated, but none were actually +drunk; the whole sounded the note of celebration +in the ballroom strengthened and masculinized. It had +its effect on Beatrice; it was a pleasure to think that one +lived in a world where people could enjoy themselves +thoroughly and uproariously and without becoming bestial +about it.</p> + +<p>"It's really very jolly, isn't it?" she said at last.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rippin'," assented Tommy.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'd rather go in there now?"</p> + +<p>"No, no. Don't know the fellahs—I should feel out +of it. Wiggers was right.—Besides, I'd rather stay with +you."</p> + +<p>Beatrice wondered if she had intended to make Tommy +say that.<span class="pagenum">[296]</span></p> + +<p>They wandered off through the hotel grounds and saw +other couples doing the same. Doing rather more, in fact. +After some search they found an empty bench and sat +down.</p> + +<p>Tommy's education had been in many ways a narrow +one, but it had equipped him perfectly for making use of +such situations as the present. He turned about on the +bench, leaning one arm on its back and facing Beatrice's +profile squarely.</p> + +<p>"Jove!" he said reminiscently. "Haven't done that +since Oxford."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"That." He waved his head in the direction of the well +populated shadows.</p> + +<p>"Oh," answered Beatrice carelessly. The profound +lack of interest in her tone had its effect.</p> + +<p>"I did it to you once, by Jove! Remember?"</p> + +<p>"No. You never did, Tommy; you know that perfectly +well."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will now, then!"</p> + +<p>He did.</p> + +<p>The next moment he rather wished he had not, Beatrice's +slow smile of contemptuous tolerance made him feel like +such a child.</p> + +<p>"Tommy, it's only you, of course, so it really doesn't +matter, but if you try to do that again I shall punish you."</p> + +<p>Her power over him was as comforting to her as it was +disconcerting to him. For a moment; after that she felt +a pang of irritation. The idea of a married woman being +kissed by a man not her husband was in itself rather revolting, +and the thought that she was that married woman +stung. As if that was not enough, the thought came to +her that she could have stopped Tommy at any moment and +had not. Had she not, in fact, secretly—even to herself—intended +that he should do that very thing when they first +sat down? She had used her power for contemptible ends. +The thought that after all it was only poor ineffectual +Tommy only increased her sense of degradation. All her +pleasure had fled.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Tommy," she said, rising; "it's time to +go home."</p> + +<p>It was indeed late—long after twelve. The launch, as +she remembered it, was to make its last trip back to the<span class="pagenum">[297]</span> +yacht at half-past; they would be just in time. Tommy +walked the length of the dock two or three times calling +"Halcyone! Halcyone!" but there was no response from +the already dwindling throng of launches. They sat down +to wait, both moody and silent.</p> + +<p>From the very first Beatrice suspected that they had +been left. It was the natural sequence of the preceding +episode; that was the way things happened. Her sense of +disillusionment and irritation increased. The dancing +had stopped, but the drinking continued; people were wandering +or lying about the lawn in disgusting states of intoxication. +What had been a joyous bacchanal had degenerated +into a horrid saturnalia. Once, as they walked +down to see if the launch had arrived, a man stumbled by +them with a lewd remark. Beatrice remained on the +verandah and made Tommy go down alone after that. His +mournful "Halcyone!" floated up like the cry of a soul +from Acheron.</p> + +<p>By one o'clock or so it became obvious to everybody that +they had been forgotten, and Beatrice instructed Tommy to +hire any boat he could get to take them to the yacht. He +had a long interview with the chief nautical employee of +the hotel, who promised to see what he could do. That appeared +to be singularly little. At last, with altered views +of the American way of running things, Beatrice went +down herself and talked to him. He would do what he +could, but.... It was two o'clock; the dock was deserted.</p> + +<p>Beatrice knew he would do nothing and bethought herself +of the two rooms in the hotel that Aunt Cecilia had +engaged. Her impression was that they were not being +used to-night; their party was smaller than it had been +the night before. She went to the hotel office and asked +if there were some rooms engaged for Mrs. James Wimbourne +and if they were already occupied. After some +research it appeared that there were and they weren't. +Well, Beatrice and Tommy would take them. The night +clerk was interested. He understood the situation perfectly +and refrained from commenting upon their lack of +baggage.</p> + +<p>So Beatrice was shown into one room and Tommy into +the other, the two parting with a brief good night in the +corridor.</p> + +<p>The first thing Beatrice noticed about the room was that<span class="pagenum">[298]</span> +there was a communicating door between it and Tommy's +room. She saw that there was a bolt on her side, however, +and made sure that it was shut.</p> + +<p>Then she rang for a chambermaid and asked for a nightgown +and toothbrush.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[299]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_X2">CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p class="h3">MR. AND MRS. ALFRED LAMMLE</p> + +<p>It was generally looked upon as rather a good joke. +Aunt Cecilia, of course, was prolific of apologies; the +launch had made so many trips, and every one thought +Beatrice and Lord Clairloch had gone at another time; +there had been no general gathering afterward, they had +all gone to bed as soon as they reached the yacht, and +James, as Beatrice knew, had gone to bed early with a +headache; how clever it was of Beatrice to have thought of +those two rooms and wasn't it lucky they had been engaged, +after all, and so forth. But most of the others were +inclined to be facetious. Breakfast, thanks to their efforts, +was quite a merry meal.</p> + +<p>For the two most nearly concerned the situation was +almost devoid of embarrassment. They arrived at the +yacht shortly after eight in a launch they had ordered the +night before at the hotel, and repaired to their respective +rooms without even being seen in their evening clothes. +By the time breakfast was over Beatrice had quite recovered +from her irritation at Tommy and had even almost +ceased to blame herself for the events of the previous night.</p> + +<p>The party broke up after lunch, the yacht proceeding to +Bar Harbor and the guests going their various ways. +Beatrice and James went directly back to New York. +James was very silent in the train, as silent as he had been +on the way up, but Beatrice was less inclined to find fault +with him for that than before. As she looked at him +quietly reading in the chair opposite her it even occurred +to her that his silence was preferable to Tommy's companionable +chirpings, even at their best. And with +Tommy at his worst, as he had been last night, there was +no comparison. Oh, yes, she was thoroughly tired of +Tommy!</p> + +<p>Dinner in their apartment passed off almost as quietly +as the journey, yet quite pleasantly, in Beatrice's opinion. +The night was cool, and a refreshing breeze blew in from<span class="pagenum">[300]</span> +the harbor. After the maid had left the room and they +sat over their coffee and cigarettes, James spoke.</p> + +<p>"About last night," he began, and stopped.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" said Beatrice encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"I thought at first I wouldn't mention it, and then I +decided it would be rather cowardly not to ... I want to +say that—"</p> + +<p>"That what?"</p> + +<p>"That I have no objections."</p> + +<p>"To what?" Her bewilderment was not feigned.</p> + +<p>"To last night! I don't want you to think I'm jealous, +or unsympathetic, or anything like that.... You are at +liberty to do what you please—to get pleasure where you +can find it. I understand."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand at all!" Her manner was still +one of bewilderment, though possibly other feelings were +beginning to enter.</p> + +<p>"I understand, and shall understand in the future. I +shan't mention the matter again. Only one thing more—whenever +our—our bargain interferes too much, you can +end it. I shan't offer any opposition."</p> + +<p>She sat frozen in her chair, making no sign that she had +understood, so he explained in an almost gentle tone of +voice: "I mean you can divorce me, you know."</p> + +<p>"Divorce!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, just as you like. Of course our marriage +ceases to be such from now on...."</p> + +<p>So unprepared, so at peace with herself and the world +had she been that it was only now that she fully comprehended +his meaning. James was accusing her, making the +great accusation ... James thought that she.... Of +course, not being the kind of a woman who dissolves in +tears at that accusation, her first dominant emotion was +one of anger; an anger sharper than any she had ever felt; +an anger she would have thought to be impossible to her, +after all these months of lassitude, all these years of chastening. +She rose from her chair and made a step toward +the door; her impulse being to walk out of the room, out +of the house, out of James' life, without a word. Not a +word of self-defense; some charges are too vile to merit +reply!</p> + +<p>Then commonsense flared up, conquering anger and +pride. No, she must not give way to her pride; she must<span class="pagenum">[301]</span> +act like a sensible being. After all, James was her husband, +he had some right to accuse if he thought proper; +the falseness of his accusation did not take away his right +of explanation; he should be made to see.</p> + +<p>Slowly she turned and went back to her place. She sat +down squarely facing James with both hands on the table +in front of her, and prepared to talk like a lawyer presenting +a case. James was watching her quietly, interested, +perhaps ever so slightly amused, but not in the least moved.</p> + +<p>"James, as I understand it, you think that I—that +Tommy and I...."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you've made a great mistake, that's all. You've +condemned me without a hearing. You've assumed that +I was guilty—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for heaven's sake, let's not talk about being guilty +or innocent or wronging each other or being faithful to +each other! Those things have no meaning for us. I'm +not blaming you—I've tried to explain that to the best of +my ability!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, let us say you have made a mistake in +facts."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"I mean—what should I mean? That Tommy and I +are not lovers."</p> + +<p>"Well, what then?"</p> + +<p>"What then—?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, what of it? I never said you were, did I? Suppose +you're not, then; if you're glad, I'm glad, if you're +sorry, I'm sorry. It doesn't alter our position."</p> + +<p>"James, you don't understand!"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"When you spoke before you thought that I was—that I +had sinned.—I do consider it a sin; perhaps you'll allow +me to call it so if it pleases me."</p> + +<p>"Certainly." He smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well, you were wrong. I haven't."</p> + +<p>"All right; I was wrong. You haven't."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then!"</p> + +<p>"Very well WHAT?"</p> + +<p>"James!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry.—But what are you driving at? I wasn't +accusing you, you know; I was simply telling you you were<span class="pagenum">[302]</span> +free, which you knew before, and offering you more freedom +if you wanted it. Why this outburst of virtue?"</p> + +<p>"James, you are rather brutal!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry if I seem so; I don't mean to be." He shifted +his position slightly and went on quite gently with another +smile: "Beatrice, if you have successfully met a temptation—or +what you look upon as a temptation—I'm sure +I'm very glad. After all, we are friends, and what pleases +my friend pleases me, other things being equal. But does +that pleasing fact in itself alter things between us when, +from my own selfish point of view, I don't care in the least +whether you overcame the temptation or not? And does +it, I ask you, alter facts? Does it make you any less fond +of Tommy than you are; does it make you as fond of me +as you are of him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, James! You understand so little—"</p> + +<p>"Whatever I may understand or not understand I know +that you spent all of last evening and practically all yesterday +and a great part of the evening before with Tommy, +and that you gave no particular evidence of being bored +... Beatrice, you were happy with him, happy as a child, +the happiest person in the whole crowd, and you showed +it, too! Do you mean to say that you've ever, at any time +in your life, been as happy in my society as all that! No! +Deny it if you can!"</p> + +<p>"James, you are jealous!" The discovery came to her +like an inspiration, sending a thrill through her. She did +not stop to analyze it now, but when she came to think it +over later she realized that there was something in that +thrill quite distinct from the satisfaction of finding a good +reply to James' really rather searching (though of course +quite unfounded) charges.</p> + +<p>"There's a good deal of the cave-man left in you, James, +argue as you may. Do you think any one but a jealous +man could talk as you are talking now? 'Deny it if you +can'—what do you care whether I deny it or not, according +to what you just said? Oh, James, how are you living +up to your part of the bargain?"</p> + +<p>Her tone was free from rancor or spite, and her words +had their effect. James was not beyond appreciating the +justice in what she said. He left his chair and raised his +hand to his forehead with a gesture of bewilderment.<span class="pagenum">[303]</span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, I suppose you're right," he muttered, and +began pacing the room.</p> + +<p>So they remained in silence for some time, she sitting +quietly in her chair as before and he walking aimlessly up +and down, desperately trying to adjust himself to this new +fact. It is strange how people will give themselves away +when they begin talking; he had been so sure of himself in +his thoughts; he had gone over such matters so satisfactorily +in his own head! Beatrice understood his plight and +respected it; it was not for her, after these last few days, +to minimize the trials of self-discovery....</p> + +<p>The maid popped in at the pantry door and popped out +again.</p> + +<p>"All right, Mary, you can take the things," said Beatrice, +and led the way into the living room.</p> + +<p>There was no air of finality in this move, but the slight +domestic incident at least had the effect of putting a check +on introspection and restoring things to a more normal +footing. Once in the living room—it was a large high +room, built as a studio and reaching up two stories—they +were both much more at ease; they began to feel capable +of resuming negotiations, when the time arrived, like two +normal sensible beings. James threw himself on a couch; +Beatrice moved about the room, opening a window here, +turning up a light there, arranging a vase of flowers somewhere +else. At last, deeming the time ripe, she stopped +in one of her noiseless trips and spoke down at her husband.</p> + +<p>"James, do you realize that you alone, of all the people +on the yacht, had the remotest suspicion? You remember +how they all joked about it?"</p> + +<p>Oh, the danger of putting things into words! Beatrice's +voice was as gentle as she could make it; there was even a +note of casual amusement in it, but in some intangible way, +merely by reopening the subject vocally, Beatrice laid +herself open to attack. James' lip curled; he could no +more keep it from doing so than keep his hair from curling.</p> + +<p>"You must remember, however, that they were not fully +acquainted with the circumstances...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice turned away in despair, not angry at James, but +realizing the inevitability of his reply as well as he himself. +She sat down in an armchair and leaned her head against<span class="pagenum">[304]</span> +the back of it; she wished it might not be necessary ever +to rise from that chair again. The blind hopelessness of +their situation lay heavy on them both.</p> + +<p>James spoke next.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, will you tell me what it's all about? Why +are we squabbling this way? How can we find out—what +on earth are we going to do about it all?"</p> + +<p>"I've no more idea than you, James."</p> + +<p>"Every time we get talking we always fall back on our +bargain, as if that was the one reliable thing in the whole +universe. Always our bargain, our bargain! Beatrice, +what in Heaven's name is our bargain?"</p> + +<p>"Marriage, I take it."</p> + +<p>"You know it's more than that—less than that—not +that, anyway! At first it was all quite clear to me; we +were two people whose lives had been broken and we were +going to try to mend them as best we might. And as it +seemed we could do that better together than alone we determined +to marry. Our marriage was to be a perfectly +loose, free arrangement, and we were to stick to its terms +only as long as we could profit by doing so. We were to +part without ill feeling and with perfect understanding. +And now, at the first shred of evidence—no, not even evidence, +suspicion—that you want to break away we start +quarreling like a pair of cats, and I become a monster of +jealousy, like any comic husband in a play...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice's heart sank again at those words; there was no +mistaking the bitterness in them. That heightened a fear +she had felt when James had answered her about the people +on the yacht; James was still smarting with the discovery +of his jealousy, and the trouble was that the smart was so +sharp that he might not forgive her for having made him +feel it. She felt the taste of her little triumph turn to +ashes in her mouth.</p> + +<p>"No, James, no!" she interrupted hurriedly. "You +weren't, really. That was all nonsense—we both saw +that...."</p> + +<p>"No, it's true—I was jealous. Jealous! and for what? +And what's more, I still am. I can't help it. When I +think of Tommy, and the boat-race, and all that. Oh, Lord, +the idiocy of it!"</p> + +<p>"I don't particularly mind your being jealous, James, +if that's any comfort to you."<span class="pagenum">[305]</span></p> + +<p>"No! Why on earth should you? You're living up +to your part of the bargain, and I'm not—that's what it +comes to. Oh, it's all my fault, every bit of it—no doubt +of that!"</p> + +<p>His words gave Beatrice a new sensation, not so much a +sinking as a steeling of the heart. His self-accusation was +all very well, but if it also involved trampling on her—! +And she did begin to feel trampled upon; much more so +now than when he had directly accused her.... That was +odd! Was it possible that she would rather be vilified +than ignored, even by James?</p> + +<p>Meanwhile James was ranting on—it had not occurred +to her that it was ranting before, but it did now:—"There's +something about the mere institution of marriage, +I suppose, that makes me feel this way; the old idea of +possession or something.... You were right about the +cave-man! It's something stronger than me—I can't help +it; but if it's going on like this every time you—every time +you speak to another man, it'll make a delightful thing out +of our married life, won't it? This free and easy bargain +of ours, this sensible arrangement! Why, it's a thousand +times harder than an ordinary marriage, just because I +have nothing to hold you with!...</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, we're caught in something. Trapped! +Don't you feel it? Something you can't see, can't understand, +only feel gradually pressing in on you, paralyzing +you, smothering you! There's no use blaming each other +for it; we're both wound up in it equally; it's something +far stronger than either of us. A pair of blind mice in a +trap!..."</p> + +<p>He flung himself across the room to an open window and +stood there, resting his elbows on the sill and gazing out +over the twinkling lights of the city. Beatrice sat immovable +in her chair, but her bosom was heaving with the memory +of certain things he had said. Another revulsion of +feeling mastered her; she no longer thought of him as +ranting; she felt his words too strongly for that. A pair +of blind mice in a trap—yes, yes, she felt all that, but that +was not what had stirred her so. What was that he had +said about having nothing to hold her with?...</p> + +<p>She watched him as he stood there trying to cool his tortured +mind in the evening air. He was tremendously +worked up; she wondered if he could stand this sort of<span class="pagenum">[306]</span> +thing physically; she remembered how ill he had been +looking lately.... She watched him with a new anxiety, +half expecting to see him topple over backward at any +moment, overcome by the strain. Then she could help +him; her mind conjured up a vision of herself running +into the dining room for some whisky and back to him +with the glass in her hand; "Here, drink this," and her +hand under his head.... It was wicked of her to wish +anything of the kind, of course; but if she could only be +of some use to him! If he would but think of turning to +her for help in getting out of his trap! He would not +find his fellow-mouse cold or unsympathetic.</p> + +<p>She could not overcome her desire to find out if any such +idea was in his mind. She went over to him and touched +him gently on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"James—"</p> + +<p>"No, not now, please; I want to think."</p> + +<p>And his shoulder remained a piece of tweed under her +hand; he did not even bother to shake her off.</p> + +<p>She sat down again to wait.</p> + +<p>When at last he left the window it was to sit down by a +lamp and take up a book. That was not a bad sign, in +itself, as long as he made his reading an interlude and not +an ending. But as she sat watching him it became more +and more evident that he regarded their interview as +closed. And so they sat stolidly for some time, James determined +that nothing should lead him into another humiliating +exhibition of feeling and Beatrice determined that +whatever happened she would make him stop ignoring her. +And though she was at first merely hurt by his indifference +she presently began to feel her determination strengthened +by something else, something which, starting as hardly +more than natural feminine pique shortly grew into irritation, +then into anger of a slow-burning type and lastly, as +her eyes tired of seeing him sit there so unaffectedly absorbed +in his reading, into something for the moment approaching +active dislike. We all know what hell hath +no fury like, and Beatrice, as she fed her mind on the +thought of how often he had insulted and repelled and +above all ignored her that evening, began to consider herself +very much in the light of a woman scorned.</p> + +<p>"Is that all, James?" she ventured at length.<span class="pagenum">[307]</span></p> + +<p>He put down his book and looked up with the manner of +one making a great effort to be reasonable.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, Beatrice?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice would have given a good deal to be able to say +that what she really wanted was that he should take her to +him as he had that day at Bar Harbor and never once +since, but as she could not she made a substitute answer.</p> + +<p>"We can't leave things as they are, can we?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? Haven't we said too much already?"</p> + +<p>"Too much for peace, but not enough for satisfaction. +We can't leave things hanging in the air this way."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, if you insist. How shall we begin?"</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose we begin with our bargain—see what its +terms are and whether we can live up to them and whether +it's for our benefit to do so."</p> + +<p>"All right. What do you consider the terms of our +bargain to be?"</p> + +<p>They were both talking in the measured tones of people +determined to keep control over themselves at all costs. +They looked at each other warily, as though guarding +against being maneuvered into a betrayal of temper or +feeling.</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place, I assume that we want to +present a good front to the world. Bold and united. We +want to prevent people from knowing...."</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"And if we give the impression of being happy together +we've gone a good way toward that end."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's logical."</p> + +<p>"Well—?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"It's your turn now, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; you've begun so well you'd better go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've only got one more idea on the subject, and +that is just tentative—a sort of suggestion." She sat +down on the sofa by him and strove to make her manner a +little more intimate without becoming mawkish or intrusive. +"It has occurred to me that we haven't given that +impression very much in the past, and I think the reason +for that may be that we—well, that we don't work together +enough. Does it ever occur to you, James, that we don't +understand each other very well? Not nearly as much as<span class="pagenum">[308]</span> +we might, I sometimes think, without—without having to +pretend anything. We know each other so slightly! +Sometimes it gives me the oddest feeling, to think I am +married to you, who are stranger to me than almost any +of my friends...."</p> + +<p>She feared the phrasing of that thought was a little unfortunate, +and broke off suddenly with: "But perhaps +I'm boring you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no—I'm very much interested. How do you think +we ought to go about it?"</p> + +<p>"It's difficult to say, of course. How do you think? I +should suggest, for one thing, that we should be less shy +with each other—less afraid of each other. Especially +about things that concern us. Even if it is hard to talk +about such things, I think we ought to. We should be +more frank with each other, James."</p> + +<p>"As we have been this evening, for example?"</p> + +<p>The cynical note rang in his voice, the note she most +dreaded.</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't mean that, necessarily. I don't mind +saying, though, that I think even our talking to-night has +been a good thing. It has cleared the air, you know. See +where we are now!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and it's cleared you too. But what about me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you've come out of it all right! You've behaved +yourself, vindicated yourself, done nothing you didn't expect +to, nothing you have reason to be ashamed of afterward. +I have! I haven't been able to open my mouth +without making a fool of myself in one way or another...."</p> + +<p>"Only because you're overtired, James...."</p> + +<p>"I've said things I never thought myself capable of +saying, and I've found I thought things that no decent +man should think. It was an interesting experience."</p> + +<p>"James, my dear, don't be so bitter! I'm not blaming +you. I can forget all that!"</p> + +<p>She laid her hand on his knee and the action, together +with the quality of her voice, had a visible effect on him. +He paused a moment and looked at her curiously. When +he spoke again it was without bitterness.</p> + +<p>"That's awfully decent of you, Beatrice, but the trouble +is I can't forget. Those things stay in the memory, and<span class="pagenum">[309]</span> +they're not desirable companions. And as talking, the +kind of frank talking you suggest, seems to bring them +out in spite of me, I think perhaps we'd better not have +much of that kind of talk. It seems to me that the less +we talk the better we shall get on."</p> + +<p>Beatrice was silent a moment in her turn. She had not +brought him quite to where she wanted him, but she had +brought him nearer than he had been before. She resolved +to let things stay as they were.</p> + +<p>"Very well, James," she said, leaning back by his side; +"we won't talk if you don't want to. About those things, +that is. There are plenty of other things we can talk +about. And let's go to places more together and do things +more together. I see no reason why we shouldn't get on +very well together. After all, I do enjoy being with you, +when you're in a good mood, more than with any one else +I know—that I could be with—"</p> + +<p>"Then why—Oh, Lord!" He stopped himself and +sank forward in despair with his head on his hands.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on and say it."</p> + +<p>"No, no."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's better that way."</p> + +<p>"I was going to say, why did you appear to enjoy yourself +with Tommy so much more than—Oh, it's no use, +Beatrice! I can't help it—it's beyond me!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, James!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's just it! It's the devil in me!"</p> + +<p>"When that was all over, James!"</p> + +<p>"All over! Then there was something!... Oh, good +<i>Lord</i>! We can't go through it all over again!"</p> + +<p>"James, I meant that you were all over feeling that—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know you did, and I thought you meant the +other and said that, and of course I had no right to because +of what we are, and so forth, over and over again! Round +and round and round, like a mouse in a trap! Caught +again!..."</p> + +<p>He got up and walked across the room once or twice, +steadying himself with one last great effort. In a moment +he stopped dead in front of her.</p> + +<p>"See here, Beatrice!"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"It can't happen again, do you see? It's got to stop +right here and now! I can't stand it—call it weak of me<span class="pagenum">[310]</span> +if you like, but I can't. It'll drive me stark mad. We +are not going to talk about these things again, do you see?"</p> + +<p>"What sort of things?"</p> + +<p>"Anything! Anything that can possibly bring these +things into my head and make a human fiend of me. And +you're not to tempt me to talk of them, either. Do you +promise?"</p> + +<p>"I promise anything that's reasonable—anything that +will help you. But do you intend to let this—this weakness +end everything—spoil our whole life?"</p> + +<p>"Spoil! What on earth is there to spoil? We've got on +well enough up to now, haven't we? Well, we'll go back +to where we were, where we were this morning! And +we'll stay there, please God, as long as we two shall live! +You're free, absolutely free, from now on! I shan't question +anything you may care to do from this moment, I +promise you!"</p> + +<p>She remained silent a moment, awed in spite of herself +by the fervency of his words. She was cruelly disappointed +in him. She had made so many attempts, she had +humbled herself so often, she had suffered his rebuffs so +many times and she had brought him at one time in spite +of himself so near to a happier state of things that his one-minded +insistence on his own humiliation seemed to her +indescribably petty and selfish. His jealousy, his vile, +rudimentary dog-in-the-manger jealousy; that was what he +couldn't get over; that was what he could not forgive her +for! What a small thing that was to resent, in view of +what she herself had so steadfastly refrained from resenting!... +However, since he wished it, there was nothing +more to be done. She could be as cold and unemotional +as he, if it came to the test.</p> + +<p>"Then you definitely give up every effort toward a better +understanding?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"And you prefer, once for all, to be strangers rather +than friends?"</p> + +<p>"Strangers don't squabble!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, James," she said with a quiet smile, +"strangers let it be. I daresay it's better so, after all. I +shouldn't wonder if you found me quite as good and thorough +a stranger, from now on, as you could desire. It +was foolish of me to talk to you as I did."<span class="pagenum">[311]</span></p> + +<p>"No, no—don't get blaming yourself. It's such a cheap +form of satisfaction."</p> + +<p>She stood looking at him a moment with coldly glittering +eyes.</p> + +<p>"It's quite true," she repeated; "I was a fool. I was +a fool to imagine that you and I could have anything in +common. Ever. Well, nothing can very well put us +farther apart than we are now. There's a certain comfort +in that, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"There is."</p> + +<p>"At last we agree. Husbands and wives should always +agree. Good-night, James."</p> + +<p>"Good-night,"</p> + +<p>He watched her as she glided from the room, so slim and +beautiful and disdainful. Perhaps a shadow of regret for +her passed across his mind, a thought of what a woman, +what a wife, even, she might have been under other circumstances; +but it did not go far into him. Things were +as they were; he had long since given up bothering about +them, trying only to think and feel as little as possible. +He took up his book again and read far into the night.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[312]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI2">CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p class="h3">HESITANCIES AND TEARS</p> + +<p>Thomas Mackintosh Drummond Erskine, +by courtesy known as Viscount Clairloch, was not a +remarkably complicated person. His life was governed by +a few broad and well-tried principles which he found, as +many had found before him, covered practically all the +contingencies he was called upon to deal with. One +wanted things, and if possible, one got them. That was the +first and great commandment of nature, and the second was +akin to it; one did nothing contrary to a thing generally +known as decency. This was a little more complicated, +for though decency was a natural thing—one always +wanted to be decent, other things being equal—it had a +rather difficult technique which had to be mastered by a +long slow process. If any one had asked Tommy how this +technique was best obtained he would undoubtedly have +answered, by a course of six years at either Eton, Harrow +or Winchester, followed by three years at one of half a +dozen colleges he could name at Oxford or Cambridge.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, of course—though not often—the paths of +desire and decency diverged, and this divergence was +sometimes provocative of unpleasantness. Treated sensibly, +however, the problem could always be brought to an +easy and simple solution. Tommy found that in such a +case it was always possible to do one of two things; persuade +oneself either that the desire was compatible with +decency or that it did not exist at all. Either of those +simple feats of dialectic accomplished, everything worked +out quite beautifully. It is a splendid thing to have been +educated at Harrow and Christchurch.</p> + +<p>Ever since he arrived in America it had been evident to +Tommy that he wanted Beatrice. He did not want her +with quite the absorbing intensity that would make him one +of the great lovers of history—Harrow and Christchurch +decreed that one should go fairly easy on wanting a married<span class="pagenum">[313]</span> +woman—but still he wanted her, for him, very much +indeed. Up to the night of the boat-race everything had +gone swimmingly. Then, indeed, he had received a setback; +a setback which came very near making him abandon +further pursuit and proceed forthwith to those portions +of America which lie to the west of Upper Montclair. If +Aunt Cecilia had not casually invited him to accompany +the yacht on its trip round Cape Cod he might have started +the very next morning. But he went to Bar Harbor, and +before he left there it had become plain to him that he +could probably have what he had so long desired.</p> + +<p>Everything had favored him. Aunt Cecilia had made +it pleasant for him for a while, and when the time came +when Aunt Cecilia might be expected to become tired of +making it pleasant for him others came forward who were +more than willing to do as much. Tommy was a desirable +as well as an agreeable guest; he looked well in the papers. +With the result that he was still playing about Bar Harbor +at the end of July, at which time Beatrice, looking quite +lovely and wan and heat-fagged, came, unattended by her +husband, to be the chief ornament of Aunt Cecilia's spacious +halls.</p> + +<p>And how Beatrice had changed since he last saw her! +She was as little the cold-eyed, contemptuous Artemis of +that night in New London as she was the fresh-cheeked +débutante of his early knowledge; and she was infinitely +more attractive, he thought, than either of them. She had +a new way of looking up at him when he came to greet +her; she was willing to pass long hours in his sole company; +she depended on him for amusement, she relied on +him in various little ways; and more important, she soon +succeeded in making him forget his fear of her. For the +first time in his knowledge of her he had the feeling of +being fully as strong as she, fully as self-controlled, as +firm-willed. This was in reality but another symptom of +her power over him, but he never recognized it as such.</p> + +<p>Appetite, as we know, increases with eating, and every +sign of favor that came his way fanned the almost extinguished +flame of Tommy's desire into renewed warmth +and vigor. Before many weeks it had grown into something +warmer and more vigorous than anything he had +ever experienced, till at last his gentle bosom became the +battlefield of the dreaded Armageddon between desire and<span class="pagenum">[314]</span> +decency. It wasn't really dreaded, in his case, because +he was not the sort of person who is capable of living very +far ahead of the present moment, and perhaps, in view of +the strength of both the contending forces, the term Armageddon +may be an exaggeration; but it was the most serious +internal conflict that the good-natured viscount (by courtesy) +ever knew.</p> + +<p>But the struggle, though painful, was short-lived. After +going to bed for five evenings in succession fearing that +care would drive sleep from his pillow that night, and +sleeping soundly from midnight till eight-thirty, the illuminating +thought came to him that, owing to the truly +Heaven-made laws of the country in which he then was, +the conflict practically did not exist. In America people +divorced; no foolish stigma was attached to the process, as +at home; it was easy, it was respectable, it was done! He +blessed his stars; what a marvelous stroke of luck that +Beatrice had married an American and not an Englishman! +He thought of the years of carking secrecy through +which such things are dragged in England, and contrasted +it with the neat despatch of the Yankee system. A few +weeks of legal formalities, tiresome, of course, but trivial +in view of the object, and then—a triumphant return to +native shores, closing in a long vista of years with Beatrice +at his side as Lady Clairloch and eventually as Lady +Strathalmond! Sweet ultimate union of desire and decency! +He gave thanks to Heaven in his fervent, simple-souled +way.</p> + +<p>Nothing remained save to persuade Beatrice to take the +crucial step. Well, there would be little trouble about +that, judging by the way things were going....</p> + +<p>As for Beatrice, she was at first much too exhausted, both +physically and mentally, to think much about Tommy one +way or the other. That last month in New York had been +a horribly enervating one, both meteorologically and domestically +speaking. Scarcely had she been able to bring +herself to face the impossibility of winning her husband's +affection when the hot weather came on, the crushing heat +of July, that burned every ounce of a desire to live out of +one and made the whole world as great a desert as one's +own home.... It was James who had suggested her going +to Aunt Cecilia's—"because he didn't want me to die on +his hands," Beatrice idly reflected, as she lay at last in a<span class="pagenum">[315]</span> +hammock on the broad verandah, luxuriating in the sea +breeze that made a light wrap necessary.</p> + +<p>Then Tommy came back to the Wimbournes' to stay, +and a regular daily routine was begun. Beatrice remained +in her room all the morning, while Tommy played golf. +They met at lunch and strolled or drove or watched people +play tennis together in the afternoon. After dinner Beatrice +generally ensconced herself with rugs on the verandah +while Tommy buzzed about fetching footstools or cushions +or talked to her or simply sat by her side. After a while +she found that Tommy was quite good company, if you +didn't take him seriously. Tommy—she supposed this +was the real foundation of her liking for him—was her +countryman. He knew things, he understood things, he +looked at things as she had been brought up to look at +them. Tommy, to take a small instance, never stifled a +smile when she used such words as caliber or schedule, pronouncing +them in the English way—the proper way, when +all was said and done, for was not England the home and +source of the English language?</p> + +<p>A few days later, as returning health quickened her perceptions, +she realized that another thing that made Tommy +agreeable was the fact that he strove honestly to please +her. A pleasant change, at least!... She was well +enough to be bitter again, it seemed. Not only was Tommy +attentive in such matters as rugs and cushions, but he made +definite efforts to fit his speech and his moods to her. He +found that she liked to talk about England and he was at +some pains to read up information about current events +there, a thing he had not bothered much about since his +departure from home. She had only to ask a leading +question about a friend at home and he would gossip for a +whole evening about their mutual acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Presently she began to discover—or fancy she discovered—hitherto +unsounded depths—or what were, comparatively +speaking, depths—in Tommy's character.</p> + +<p>"I say, how jolly the stars are to-night," he observed +as he took his place by her one evening. "Never see the +stars, somehow, but I think of tigers. Ever since I went +to India. Went off on a tiger hunt, you know, out in the +wilds somewhere, and we had to sleep out on a sort of +grassy place with a fire in the middle of us, you know, to +keep the beasties off. Well, I'd never seen a tiger, outside<span class="pagenum">[316]</span> +of the zoo, and I had 'em on the brain. I had a dream +about meeting one, and it got so bad that I woke up at last +with a shout, thinkin' a tiger was standin' just over me +with his two dev'lish old eyes staring down into mine! +Then I saw it was only two bright stars, rather close together. +But I never can see stars now without thinkin' +of tiger's eyes, though I met a tiger quite close on soon +after that and his eyes weren't like that, at all....</p> + +<p>"Rather sad, isn't it?" he added after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Sad? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, other people have something better than an old +beast's blinkers to compare stars to. Women's eyes, you +know, and all that."</p> + +<p>There was something in the way he said this that made +Beatrice reply "Oh, rot, Tommy!" even as she laughed. +But his mood entertained her.</p> + +<p>"Tommy," she went on, "I believe you'd try, even so, +to say something about my eyes and stars if I let you! +Though anything less like stars couldn't well be imagined.... +Honestly now, Tommy, do my eyes look more like stars +or tiger's eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Well," answered Tommy with laborious truthfulness, +"I suppose they really <i>look</i> more like tiger's eyes. But +they make me <i>think</i> of stars," he added, with a perfect +burst of romance and poetry.</p> + +<p>"And stars make you think of tiger's eyes! Oh, my +poor Tommy!"</p> + +<p>"Well, they're dev'lish good-lookin'—you ought to feel +jolly complimented!" He wanted to go on and say something +about her acting like a tiger, but did not feel quite +up to it, at such short notice. But they laughed companionably +together.</p> + +<p>Yes, Tommy really amused her. There was much to like +in the simplicity and kindliness of his nature; Harry had +not been proof against it. And there was no harm in him. +Beatrice could imagine no more innocuous pleasure than +talking with Tommy, even if the conversation ran to eyes—her +eyes. She was not bothered this time by any nervous +reflections on what fields of amusement were suited to the +innocent ramblings of a young wife. And if she was inclined +to emphasize the pleasant part of her intercourse +and minimize its danger—if indeed there was any—the +reason was not far to seek. Even if things went to the<span class="pagenum">[317]</span> +last resort, what of it? What had she to lose—now?</p> + +<p>Nothing. Not one earthly thing. She was free to glean +where she could.</p> + +<p>James would be glad—as glad as any one.</p> + +<p>Though of course it had not come to that yet....</p> + +<p>It was at about this time, however, that Tommy determined +it should come to that. Just that. And though he +was not one to rush matters, he decided that the sooner it +came the better. He learned that James was to come up +for a fortnight at the end of August—James' vacation had +for some reason dwindled to that length of time—and he +desired, in some obscure way, to have it decided before +James was actually in the house. But the way had to be +paved for the great suggestion and Tommy was not perceptibly +quicker at paving than at other intellectual pursuits.</p> + +<p>One evening, however, he resolved to be a man of action +and at least give an indication of the state of his own heart. +With almost devilish craft he decided beforehand on the +exact way he would bring the conversation round to the +desired point.</p> + +<p>"I say, Beatrice," he began when they were settled in +their customary place.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Tommy?"</p> + +<p>"How long do you suppose your aunt wants me kickin' +my heels about here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as long as you want, I suppose. She hasn't told +me she was tired of you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but ..."</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"I've been here a goodish while, you know. First the +boat-race, then the cruise up here, then most of July and +now most of August.... Stiffish, wot?... Don't want +to wear out my welcome, you know...."</p> + +<p>Oh, but it was hard! Why on earth couldn't she do the +obvious thing and say, "Why do you want to leave, +Tommy?" or something like that? She seemed determined +not to give him the least help, so he plunged desperately +on.</p> + +<p>"Not that I <i>want</i> to go, you know. Jolly pleasant here, +and all that—rippin' golf, rippin' people, rippin' time +altogether...."</p> + +<p>He felt himself perspiring profusely.<span class="pagenum">[318]</span></p> + +<p>"Beatrice, do you know <i>why</i> I don't want to go?" he +burst forth.</p> + +<p>Beatrice remained silent, lightly tapping the stone balustrade +with her foot. When she spoke it was with perfect +self-possession.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to be tiresome again, are you, +Tommy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Tommy fervently.</p> + +<p>Again she paused. "Are you really fond of me, +Tommy?" she asked unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, yes!"</p> + +<p>"How fond?"</p> + +<p>"Oh ... frightf'ly!... What do you mean, how +fond? You know! Do you want me to throw myself into +the sea?... I would," he added in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean how much, exactly, but in what way? +What do you mean by it all?"</p> + +<p>"What's the use of asking me? You know!"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think I do.... Are you fond enough of +me to desire everything for my good?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Even at the sacrifice of yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Well, don't you think it's for my ultimate good as a +married woman that you shouldn't try to make love to +me?"</p> + +<p>"What the—Beatrice, don't torment me!"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to, but you must see how impossible it is, +Tommy. You can't go on talking this way to me."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because I'm <i>married</i>, obviously! Such things +are—well, they simply aren't done!"</p> + +<p>Tommy waited a moment. "Do you mean to say, Beatrice...."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Can you truthfully tell me that you—that you aren't +fond of me too? Just a little?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly!"</p> + +<p>"Rot! Utter, senseless rot! You know it isn't so!—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Tommy! People will hear."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em hear, then. Beatrice!" he went on more +quietly; "there's no use trying to take me in by that +'never knew' rot. Of course you knew, of course you<span class="pagenum">[319]</span> +cared. Why've you sat talking with me here, night after +night, why've you been so uncommon jolly nice—nicer 'n +you ever were before? Why did you ever let me get to +this point?—Don't pretend you couldn't help it, +either!" He paused a moment. "Why did you let me +kiss you that night?"</p> + +<p>That shaft hit. She lost her head a little, and fell back +on an old feminine ruse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tommy, you've no right to bring that up against +me!" she said, with a little flurried break in her voice.</p> + +<p>Tommy's obvious answer was a quiet "Why not?" but +he was not the kind who can give the proper answer at such +moments. He was much more affected by Beatrice's evident +perturbation than Beatrice was by his home truth, +and was much slower in recovering.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Beatrice," he went on again after a short +silence, "but I—well, dash it all, I <i>care</i>, you know!"</p> + +<p>"You mustn't, Tommy."</p> + +<p>"But what if I jolly well can't help myself? After all, +you know, you must give a fellah a chance. Of course, I +want you to be happy, and I'd do anything I could to make +you so, but—well, there it is! I'm <i>fond</i> of you, Beatrice!"</p> + +<p>She could smile quite calmly at him now, and did so. +"Very well, Tommy, you're fond of me. Suppose we +leave it there for the present.—And now I think I shall +go in. It's getting chilly out here."</p> + +<p>Evidently it had not quite come to <i>that</i> with her.</p> + +<p>Nor did it, for all Tommy could do, before James' arrival +a few days later. Aunt Selina came with him; she had +elected to spend the summer at her Vermont house, and +found it, as she explained to her hostess, "too warm. The +interior, you know." With which she closed her lips and +gave the impression of charitably refraining from, richly +deserved censure of the interior's shortcomings. Aunt +Cecilia nodded with the most perfect understanding, and +said she supposed it must have been warm in New York +also.</p> + +<p>James allowed that it had.</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina said she had read in the paper that August +was likely to be as hot as July there.</p> + +<p>Beatrice, just in order to be on the safe side, said that +she felt like Rather a Brute.</p> + +<p>Tommy, with a vague idea of vindicating her, remarked<span class="pagenum">[320]</span> +that some days had been jolly warm in Bar Harbor, too.</p> + +<p>Aunt Cecilia, politely reproachful, said that he had no +idea what an American summer could be, and that anyway, +the nights had been cool.</p> + +<p>Tommy said oh yes, rather.</p> + +<p>Inwardly he was chafing. He felt his case lamentably +weakened by the presence of James. He had not bargained +for an abduction from under the husband's very +nose. The thought of what he would have to go through +now made him feel quite uncomfortable and even a little, +just a little, suspicious that the case of decency had not been +decisively settled. Still, there was nothing to do but stay +and go through with it.</p> + +<p>But James, if he had but known it, was in reality his +most powerful ally. Continued residence in sweltering +New York had not tended to soften James, either in his +attitude to the world in general or in his feeling toward +his wife in particular. He now adopted a policy of outward +affection. "When others were present he lost no opportunity +of elaborately fetching and carrying for Beatrice, +of making plans for her benefit, of rejoicing in her +returning health. As she evinced a fondness for the evening +air he made it a rule to sit with her on the verandah +every night after dinner. Tommy could not very well oust +him from this pleasant duty, and writhed beneath his calm +exterior every time he watched them go out together."</p> + +<p>He need not have worried, however. The contrast of +James' warmth in public to his wholly genuine coldness in +private, together with the change from Tommy's sympathetic +chatter to James' deathly silence on these evening +sojourns had a much more potent effect on Beatrice than +anything Tommy could have accomplished actively. +James literally seemed to freeze the blood in Beatrice's +veins. She became subject to fits of shivering, she required +twice as many wraps as before; she began going to +bed much earlier than previously. Ten o'clock now invariably +found her in her room.</p> + +<p>One evening James was suddenly called upon to go out +to dinner with Aunt Cecilia and fill an empty place at a +friend's table, and Tommy took his place on the verandah. +Tommy knew that this would be his best chance, possibly +his last. The stars burned brightly in a clear warm sky, +but there was no talk of tiger's eyes now. There was no<span class="pagenum">[321]</span> +talk at all for a long time; the pleasure of sheer propinquity +was too great. Beatrice fairly luxuriated. She +wondered why Tommy's silence affected her so differently +from that of James....</p> + +<p>"Beatrice," began Tommy, but she switched him off.</p> + +<p>"No, please don't try to talk now, Tommy, there's a +dear."</p> + +<p>They were silent again. The night stretched hugely before +and above them; it was very still. A little night-breeze +arose and touched their cheeks, but its message was +only peace. Land and sea alike slept; not a sound reached +them save the occasional clatter of distant wheels. Only +the sky was awake, with its hundreds of winking eyes. Oh, +these stars! Beatrice knew them so well. Antares, glowing +like a dying coal, sank and fell below the hills, leaving +the bright clusters of Sagittarius in dominion over the +southern heavens. Fomalhaut rose in the southeast, shining +with a dull chaotic luster, now green, now red. Fomalhaut, +she remembered, was the southernmost of all the +great stars visible in northern lands; its reign was the +shortest of them all. And yet who could tell what might +happen before that star finally fell from sight in the +autumn?...</p> + +<p>"Beatrice!" at length began Tommy again, and this +time she could not stop him. "Beatrice, we can't go on +like this. We can't do it, I say, we can't! Don't you feel +it?... That husband of yours.... Oh, Beatrice, I <i>can't</i> +stand by and watch it any longer!"</p> + +<p>He caught hold of her hand and clasped it between his. +It remained limp there, press it as he would.... Then he +saw that she was crying.</p> + +<p>He flung himself on his knees beside her, covering her +hand with kisses. There was no conflict in him now, only +a raging thirst for consummation. Harrow and Christchurch +were thrown to the winds.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice," he whispered, "come away with me out of +this damned place—away from the whole damned lot of +them—frozen, church-going rotters! Let <i>me</i> take care of +you! I understand, Beatrice, I know how it is! Only +come with me! Leave it all to me—no trouble, no worry, +everything all right! <i>He'll</i> be glad enough to free you—trust +him! Oh, dear Beatrice...."</p> + +<p>He bent close over her, uttering all sort of impassioned<span class="pagenum">[322]</span> +foolishnesses. He kissed her, too, not once, but again and +again, and with things he scarcely knew for kisses, so unlike +were they to the lightly given and taken pledges of +other days.</p> + +<p>And Beatrice was limp in his arms, as little able to stop +him as to stop her tears.</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, we must go on <i>always</i> like this! We <i>can't</i> +go back now, we can't let things go on as they were! Come +away with me, Beatrice, to-night, now...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice thought how, only a year ago, not far from this +very place, some one had used almost those very words to +her, and the thought made her weep afresh. But her tears +were not all tears of misery.</p> + +<p>At last she dried her eyes and pushed him gently away.</p> + +<p>"No, no more, Tommy—dear Tommy, you must stop. +Really, Tommy! I don't know how I could let you go on +this way—I seem to be so weak and silly these days.... +I must take hold of myself...."</p> + +<p>"But, Beatrice—"</p> + +<p>"No, Tommy—not any more now. I know, I know, dear, +but it can't go on any more. Now," she added with a momentary +relapse of weakness. Then she pulled herself together +again. "You must be perfectly quiet and good, +now, Tommy, if you stay here. I've got to have a chance +to get over this before we go in. It's very important—there's +a lot at stake. Just sit there and don't speak a +word. You can help me that way."</p> + +<p>They sat quietly together for some time. At last Beatrice +rose.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll go," she said. "I shall be all right now."</p> + +<p>"But we can't leave it like this!" protested Tommy. +"Beatrice, you can't go up there now...."</p> + +<p>"Can't I? I'm going, though."</p> + +<p>"No, you've got to give me an answer, Beatrice!"</p> + +<p>She turned to him for a moment before walking off. "I +can't tell you anything now, Tommy. I don't know. Do +you see? I honestly don't know. You'll have to wait."</p> + +<p>The hall seemed rather dark as they came into it; the +others must have gone to bed. They locked doors and +turned out lights and walked upstairs in the dark. They +parted at the top with a whispered good-night, almost conspiratorial +in effect,<span class="pagenum">[323]</span> +Beatrice found James still dressed and sitting under a +droplight, reading. He put down his book as she entered +and looked at his watch, which lay on the table by him.</p> + +<p>"After half-past twelve," he said. "Quite a pleasant +evening."</p> + +<p>Beatrice made no observation.</p> + +<p>"The air has done you good," he went on. "We shall +soon see the roses in your cheeks again."</p> + +<p>"If you have anything to say, James, perhaps you'd better +go ahead and say it."</p> + +<p>"I? Oh, dear no! Any words of mine would be quite +superfluous. The situation is complete as it is."</p> + +<p>Beatrice merely waited. She knew she would not wait in +vain, nor did she.</p> + +<p>"Only, after this perhaps you'll save yourself the +trouble of making up elaborate denials. You and your +Tommy!..."</p> + +<p>He got up and started walking up and down the room +with slow, measured steps. To Beatrice, still sitting quietly +on the edge of her bed, the fall of his feet on the carpeted +floor sounded like the inexorable tick of fate for once made +audible to human ears. The greatest things hung in the +balance at this moment; his next words would decide both +their destinies for the rest of their mortal life. She thought +she knew what they would be, but if there were to sound in +them the faintest echo of a regret for older and better +times she was ready, even at this last moment, to throw her +whole being into an effort to help restore them. Tommy's +passionate whisper still echoed in her ears, Tommy's kisses +were scarcely cold upon her cheeks, but Tommy was not in +her heart.</p> + +<p>At last James spoke. At the first sound of his voice +Beatrice knew.</p> + +<p>"I shall receive a telegram calling me back to town to-morrow, +in time for me to catch the evening train...."</p> + +<p>She was so occupied with the ultimate meaning of his +words that their immediate meaning escaped her. She +raised her eyes in question.</p> + +<p>"You're going away to-morrow? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I prefer not to remain here and watch it going +on under my very eyes. It's a silly prejudice, no doubt, +but you must pardon it...."<span class="pagenum">[324]</span></p> + +<p>He continued his pacing, keeping his eyes fixed on the +floor in front of him. Occasionally he uttered a few sentences +in the same cold, lifeless tone.</p> + +<p>"It's all over now, at any rate. I had hoped we might +be able to tide these things over through these first years, +till we got old enough to stop caring about them, but I was +wrong. You can't govern things like that.... I always +had a theory that any two sensible people could get along +together in marriage, even though they didn't care much +about each other, if they made up their minds to take a +reasonable point of view; but I was wrong there too. Marriage +is a bigger thing than I thought. I was wrong all +around....</p> + +<p>"Just a year—not even that. I should have said it could +go longer than that, even at the worst....</p> + +<p>"It's all in the blood, I suppose—rotten, decadent blood, +in both of you. I don't blame you, especially. Your +father's daughter—I might have known. I suppose I +oughtn't to blame your father much more—it's the curse +of your whole civilization. Only it's hard to confine one's +anger to civilizations in such cases....</p> + +<p>"The strange part about you is that you gave no sign of +it whatever beforehand. I had no suspicion, at all. I +don't think any one could have told....</p> + +<p>"There's just one thing I should like to suggest. I don't +know whether it will be comprehensible to you, but I have +a certain respect for my family name and a sort of desire +to spare the members of the family as much as possible. +So that, although you're perfectly free to act exactly as +you wish, I should appreciate it if you—if you could suspend +operations as long as you remain under my uncle's +roof. Though it's just as you like, of course.</p> + +<p>"I shall be in New York. You can let me know your +plans there when you are ready. I suppose you'll want to +sue, in which case it can't be done in New York state; you'll +have to establish a residence somewhere else. Or if you +prefer to have me sue, all right. That would save time, of +course.... Let me know what you decide.</p> + +<p>"Well, we might as well go to bed, I suppose. It will +be the last time...."</p> + +<p>Beatrice watched him as he took off his coat and waistcoat +and threw them over a chair and then attacked his<span class="pagenum">[325]</span> +collar and tie. Then she arose from where she sat and +addressed him.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there's any use in my saying anything. +We might get quarreling again, and naturally you wouldn't +believe me, anyway. I agree with you that it's impossible +for us to live together any longer. But I can't forbear +from telling you, James, that you've done me a great wrong. +You've said things ... oh, you've said things so wrong +to-night that it seems as if God himself—if there is a God—would +speak from heaven and show you how wrong you +are! But there's no use in mere human beings saying anything +at a time like this....</p> + +<p>"You've been a very wicked man to-night, James. May +God forgive you for it."</p> + +<p>She turned away with an air of finality and started to +prepare for bed. She hung up her evening wrap in the +closet and walked over to her bureau. She took off what +jewelry she wore and put it carefully away, and then she +seemed to hesitate. She stood looking at her reflection in +the mirror a moment, but found no inspiration there. She +walked inconclusively across the room and then back. +Finally she stopped near James, with her back toward him.</p> + +<p>"It seems an absurd thing to ask," she said, "but would +you mind? As you say, it's the last time...."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said James.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[326]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII2">CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p class="h3">A ROD OF IRON</p> + +<p>It is all very well to be suddenly called back to town by +telegram on important business, but suppose the business +is wholly fictitious—what are you going to do with +yourself when you get there? Especially if you have your +own reasons for not wanting Business to know that you have +returned before the appointed time, and consequently are +shy about appearing in clubs and places where it would be +likely to get wind of your presence? And if, moreover, +your apartment has been closed and all the servants sent +off on a holiday?</p> + +<p>That is a fair example of the mean way sordid detail has +of encroaching on the big things of life and destroying what +little pleasure we might take in their dramatic value. +When he arrived in New York James had the chastened, +exalted feeling of one who has just passed a great and +disagreeable crisis and got through with it, on the whole, +very tolerably well. What he wanted most was to return +to the routine of his old life and, so far as was possible, +drown the nightmare recollection in a flood of work. Instead +of which he found idleness and domestic inconvenience +staring him in the face. He also saw that he was +going to be lonely. He walked through the dark and +empty rooms of his apartment and reflected what a difference +even the mute presence of a servant would make. +He longed whole-heartedly for Stodger—for Stodger since +we last saw him has been promoted into manhood by nature +and into full-fledged chauffeurhood—with the official +appellation of McClintock, if you please—by James. With +Stodger, who still retained jurisdiction over his suits and +shoes, James was accustomed, when they were alone together, +to throw off his role of employer and embark on +technical heart-to-heart talks on differential gears and multiple-disc +clutches and kindred intimate subjects. But +Stodger was tasting the joys of leave of absence on full +pay, James knew not where.<span class="pagenum">[327]</span></p> + +<p>He sought at first to beguile the hours with reading. He +selected a number of works he had always meant to read +but never quite got around to: a novel or two of Dickens, +one of Thackeray, one of Meredith, "The Origin of Species," +Carlyle's "French Revolution," "The Principles of Political +Economy" and "Tristram Shandy." Steadily his eyes +sickened of print; by the time he came to Mill his brain +refused to absorb and visions of the very things he wished +most to be free from hovered obstinately over the pages. +"Tristram Shandy" was even more unbearable; he conceived +an insane dislike for those interminable, ineffectual +old people and their terrestrial-minded creator. At last +he flung the book into the fireplace and strode despairingly +out into the streets.</p> + +<p>Oh, Beatrice—would she never send him word, put things +definitely in motion, in no matter what direction? Oh, +this confounded brain of his; would it never stop trying to +re-picture old scenes, revive dead feelings, animate unborn +regrets? What had he done but what he should have done, +what he could not help doing, what it had been written +that he should do since the first moment when thoughts +above those of a beast were put into man's brain? Oh, +the curse of a brain that would not live up to its own laws, +but continually kept flashing those visions of outworn +things across his eyes—not his two innocent physical eyes, +which saw nothing but what was put before them, but that +redoubtable, inescapable, ungovernable inward sight which, +as he remembered some poet had said, was "the bliss of solitude." +The bliss of solitude—how like a driveling ass of +a poet!...</p> + +<p>The next day he gave up and went back to his office as +usual, saying that he had returned from his vacation a +few days ahead of time in order to transact some business +that had come up unexpectedly. Just what the business +was he did not explain; he was now the head of McClellan's +New York branch and did not have to explain things.</p> + +<p>So the hours between nine and five ceased to be an intolerable +burden, and the hours from five till bedtime could +be whiled away at the club in discussing the baseball returns. +He could always find some one who was willing +to talk about professional baseball. He remembered how he +had once similarly talked golf with Harry....</p> + +<p>That left only the night hours to be accounted for, and<span class="pagenum">[328]</span> +sleep accounted for most of them, of course. Sometimes. +At other times sleep refused to come and nothing stood +between him and the inmost thoughts of his brain, or worse, +the thoughts that he did not think, never would think, as +long as a brain and a will remained to him.... Such times +he would always end by turning on the light and reading. +They gave him a feeling like that of which he had spoken +to Beatrice about being caught in a trap, deepened and intensified; +a feeling to be avoided at any price.</p> + +<p>At last he heard, not indeed from Beatrice, but from Aunt +Selina. "Beatrice arrives New York noon Thursday; for +Heaven's sake do something," she telegraphed. James +knew what that meant, and thanked Aunt Selina from the +bottom of his heart. No scandal—nothing that would reflect +on the family name! So Beatrice had determined not +to accede to his last request; she was bent on rushing madly +into her Tommy's arms, perhaps at the very station itself? +Oh, no, nothing of <i>that</i> sort, if you please; he would be at +the station himself to see to it.</p> + +<p>It was extraordinary how much getting back to work had +benefited him. He was no longer subject to the dreadful +fits of depression that had made his idleness a torment. +Only keep going, only have something to occupy hands and +mind during every waking hour, and all would yet be well. +Beatrice and all that she implied had only to be kept out +of his mind to be rendered innocuous; all that was needed +to keep her out was a little will power, and he had plenty +of that. As for the sleeping hours—well, he had come to +have rather a dread of the night time. No doubt some +simple medical remedy, however, would put that all right—sulphonal, +or something of the sort. He would consult +a doctor. No unprescribed drugs for him—no careless +overdose, or anything of that sort, no indeed! The time +had yet to come when James Wimbourne could not keep +pace with the strong ones of the earth and walk with head +erect under all the burdens that a malicious fate might heap +upon him.</p> + +<p>In such a vein as this ran his thoughts as he walked from +his apartment to the station that Thursday morning. It +was a cool day in early September; a fresh easterly breeze +blew in from the Sound bringing with it the first hint of +autumn and seeming to infuse fresh blood into his veins. +As he walked down Madison Avenue even the familiar<span class="pagenum">[329]</span> +sounds of the city, the clanging of the trolley cars, the +tooting of motor horns, the rumbling of drays, even the +clatter of steam drills or rivet machines seemed like outward +manifestations of the life he felt surging anew within +him. Was it not indeed something very like a new life +that was to begin for him to-day, this very morning? Not +the kind of new life of which the poets babbled, no youthful +dream, but something far solider and nobler, a mature reconstruction, +a courageous gathering together, or rather regathering—that +made it all the finer—of the fragments of +an outworn existence. That was what human life was, a +succession of repatchings and rebuildings. He who rebuilt +with the greatest promptness and courage and ingenuity +was the best liver.</p> + +<p>Viewed in this broad and health-bringing light the last +months of his life appeared less of a failure than he had +been wont to think. He became able to look back on this +year of destiny-fighting as, if not actually successful, better +than successful, since it led on to better things and gave +him a chance to show his mettle, his power of reconstruction. +He had made a mistake, no doubt; but he was willing to +recognize it as such and do his best to rectify it. Beatrice +and he were not cut out for team-mates in the business of +destiny-fighting; it had become evident that they could both +get on better alone. Well, at last they had come to the +point of parting; to the point, he hoped, of being able to +part like fellow-soldiers whose company is disbanded, in +friendship and good humor, without recrimination or any +of that detestable God-forgive-you business....</p> + +<p>He wished the newsboys would not shout so loud; their +shrill uncanny shrieks interrupted his line of thought, in +spite of himself. It didn't matter if they were calling extras; +he never bought extras. Or was it only a regular edition? +They might be announcing the trump of doom for +all one could understand.</p> + +<p>It was too bad that Beatrice had not arrived at anything +like his own state of sanity and calmness. This business +of eloping—oh, it was so ludicrous, so amateurish! That +was not the way to live. He hoped he might be able to +make her see this. It would be easier, of course, if Tommy +were not at the station; one could not tell what arrangements +a woman in her condition might make. But he did +not fear Tommy; there would be no scene. A few firm<span class="pagenum">[330]</span> +words from him and they would see things in their proper +light. He pictured himself and Beatrice repairing sanely +and amicably to a lawyer's office together;—"Please tell +us the quickest and easiest way to be divorced...."</p> + +<p>As he approached Forty-second Street the traffic grew +heavier and noisier. He could not think properly now; +watching for a chance to traverse the frequent cross streets +took most of his attention. And those newsboys—! Why +on earth should those newspaper fellows send out papers +marked "Late Afternoon Edition" at half-past eleven in +the morning? Oh, it was an extra, was it? A fire on the +East Side, no doubt, two people injured—he knew the sort +of thing. If those newspaper fellows would have the sense +only to get out an extra when something <i>really</i> important +had happened somebody might occasionally buy them.</p> + +<p>Seeing that he had plenty of time he walked slowly +round to the Forty-second Street entrance instead of going +in the side way. He observed the great piles of building +and rebuilding that were going on in the neighborhood, +and compared the reconstruction of the quarter to his own +case. He wondered why they delayed in making the Park +Avenue connecting bridge—such an integral part of the +scheme. If <i>he</i> had shilly-shallied like that, a nice mess he +would have made of his life! He gazed up at the great +new front of the station and bumped into a stentorian newsboy. +Everywhere those confounded newsboys—!</p> + +<p>He was actually in the station before he had any suspicion. +There was about the usual number of people in the +great waiting-room, but there seemed to be more hurrying +than usual. He saw one or two people dart across the +space, and observed that they did not disappear into the +train gates.... Had he or had he not caught the word +"wreck" on one of those flaunting headlines in the street? +He turned off suddenly to a news stand and bought a paper.</p> + +<p>There it all was, in black and white—or rather red and +white. Red letters, five inches high.</p> + +<p>Train 64, the Maine Special, had run through an open +switch and turned turtle somewhere near Stamford. Fifteen +reported killed, others injured. No names given.</p> + +<p>The Maine Special. Beatrice's train.</p> + +<p>He knew that he must devote all his efforts at this juncture +to keep himself from thinking. Until he knew, that<span class="pagenum">[331]</span> +was. He did not even allow himself to name the thoughts +he was afraid of giving birth to. Anxiety, hope, fear, +premonition, horror, satisfaction, pity—he must put them +all away from him. There was no telling what future horrors +he might be led into if he gave way ever so little to any +one of them. The one thing to do now was to <i>find out</i>.</p> + +<p>This was not so easy. He went first to the bulletin board +where the arrivals of trains were announced, and found a +small and anxious-eyed crowd gazing at the few uninforming +statements marked in white chalk. There was nothing +to be learned from them. He spoke to an official, who was +equally reticent, and spoke vaguely of a relief train.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say there's no way of finding out the +names of those killed before the relief train comes in?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"We can't tell you what we don't know!" replied the +man, already too inured to such questions to show feeling +of any sort. He then directed James to the office of the +railroad press agent, on the eighth floor.</p> + +<p>James started to ask another question, but was interrupted +by a young woman who hurried up to the official. +She held a little girl of seven or eight by the hand, and the +eyes of both were streaming with tears. The sight struck +James as odd in that cold, impersonal, schedule-run place, +and he swerved as he walked off to look at them. He +turned again abruptly and went his way, stifling an involuntary +rise of a feeling which might have been very like +envy, if he had allowed himself to think about it....</p> + +<p>And no one else had even noticed the two.</p> + +<p>He found no one in the press office except a few newspaper +reporters who sat about on tables with their hats +balanced on the backs of their heads. They eyed him suspiciously +but said nothing. An inner door opened and a +young man in his shirtsleeves, a stenographer, entered the +room bearing a number of typewritten flimsies. The reporters +pounced upon these and rushed away in search of +telephones.</p> + +<p>James asked the young man if he could see Mr. Barker, +the agent.</p> + +<p>The young man said Mr. Barker was busy, and asked +James what paper he represented.</p> + +<p>James said none.<span class="pagenum">[332]</span></p> + +<p>On what business, then, did James want to see Mr. +Barker?</p> + +<p>To learn the fate of some one on the Maine Special.</p> + +<p>A friend?</p> + +<p>A wife.</p> + +<p>The stenographer dropped his lower jaw, but said nothing. +He immediately opened the inner door and led James +up to an older man who sat dictating to a young woman at +a typewriter. He was plump and clean-shaven and very +neat about the collar and tie; James did not realize that this +was the agent until the younger man told him so.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," replied Mr. Barker to James' question, +"I know absolutely no more about it than you do. If I +did, I'd tell you. The boys have been hammering away at +me for the past hour, and I've given 'em every word that's +come in. These two names are all I've got so far." He +handed James a flimsy.</p> + +<p>James' eye fell upon the names of two men, both described +as traveling salesmen. He went back to the outer +office and sat down to think. It was, of course, extremely +improbable that Beatrice had been killed. There had been, +say, two hundred people on the train, of whom fifteen were +known to have died—something like seven and a half per +cent. Two of these were accounted for; that left thirteen. +He wondered how long it would be before those thirteen +names came in.</p> + +<p>The room began to fill up again; the reporters returned +and new recruits constantly swelled their number. From +their talk James gathered why there was such a dearth of +detailed news. The wreck occurring during the waking +hours of the day had been learned, as far as the mere fact +of its occurrence was concerned, and published within half +an hour after it had happened. It naturally took longer +than this to do even the first work of clearing the wreckage +and the compiling of the lists of dead and injured would +require even more time. With the results that interested +friends and relations, learning of the wreck but none of its +particulars, were rushing pell-mell to headquarters to get +the first news. One young man described in vivid terms +certain things he had just witnessed down in the concourse.</p> + +<p>"Best sob stuff in months," was his one comment.</p> + +<p>Just then one of their number, a slightly older man and<span class="pagenum">[333]</span> +evidently a leader among them, emerged from the inner +office.</p> + +<p>"What about it, Wilkins?" they greeted him in chorus. +"Slip it, Wilkins, slip it over! Give us the dope! Any +more stiffs yet? Come on, out with it—no beats on this +story, you know...."</p> + +<p>Harpies!</p> + +<p>The outer door opened and two women burst into the +room. The first of them, a tall, stout, good-featured Jewess, +clothed in deep mourning, was wildly gasping and beating +her hands on her breast.</p> + +<p>"Can any of you tell me about a young man called Lindenbaum?" +she asked between her sobs. "Lindenbaum—a +young man—on Car fifty-six he was! Has anything been +heard of him—anything?"</p> + +<p>The reporters promptly told her that nothing had. She +sank into a chair, covered her face with her hands and +burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping. The younger +woman, evidently her daughter, stood by trying to comfort +her. At length the other raised her veil and wearily wiped +her eyes. James studied her face; her sunken eyes no less +than her black clothes gave evidence of an older sorrow. +Moved by a sudden impulse he went over and spoke to her, +telling her that her son was in all probability safe and basing +his assurance on the calm mathematical grounds of his +own reasoning. The woman did not understand much of +what he said, but the quiet tones of his voice seemed to +comfort her. She rose and started to go.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said to James, "you're a nice boy.—Oh, +I do hope God will spare him to me—only nineteen, +he is, and the only man I have left, all I have left...."</p> + +<p>Sob stuff!</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the door closed behind her when a business +man of about forty-five, prosperous, well-dressed and unemotional-looking, +came in and asked if the name of his +daughter was on the list of the dead. Some one said it was +not.</p> + +<p>"Thank God," said the man in a weak voice. He raised +his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes and fell over backward +in a dead faint. When he came to he had to be told +that the names of only three of the dead were as yet known.</p> + +<p>These were the first of a long series of scenes such as<span class="pagenum">[334]</span> +James would not have thought possible off the stage. He +had never seen people mastered by an overwhelming anxiety +before; it was interesting to learn that they acted in +such cases much as they were generally supposed to. Anxiety, +he reflected, was perhaps the most intolerable emotion +known to man. Yet as he sat there calmly waiting for the +arrival of the relief train he could have wished that he +might have tasted the full horror of it.... No, that was +mere hysteria, of course. But there was something holy +about such a feeling; it was like a sort of cleansing, a purifying +by fire.... Was it that his soul was not worthy of +such a purifying? Oh, hysterics again!</p> + +<p>But the purifying of others went on before his eyes as +he sat trying not to think or feel and reading the bulletins +as they came out from the inner office. Grotesquely unimportant, +those bulletins, or so they must seem to those concerned +for the fate of friends!</p> + +<p>"General Traffic Manager Albert S. Holden learned by +telegram of the accident to Train 64 near Stamford this +morning and immediately hurried to Stamford by special +train. Mr. Holden will conduct an investigation into the +causes of the accident in conjunction with Coroner Francis +X. Willis of Stamford."</p> + +<p>"One young woman among the injured was identified +as Miss Fannie Schmidt of Brooklyn. She was taken to +the Stamford hospital suffering from contusions."</p> + +<p>"Patrick F. McGuire, the engineer of Train 64 which ran +through an open switch near Stamford this morning, has +been in the employ of the Company for many years. He +was severely cut about the face and head. He has been +engineer of the Maine Special since the 23rd of last May, +prior to which he had worked as engineer on Train 102. +He began his service in the Company in 1898 as fireman on +the Naugatuck Division...."</p> + +<p>"Vice-President Henry T. Blomberg gave out in New +Haven this morning the following statement concerning +the accident at Stamford...."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" exclaimed a reporter, issuing suddenly from +a telephone booth near James, "this is <i>some</i> story, believe +me!" He took off his hat and wiped his forehead. He +was a young man and looked somewhat more like a human +being than the others.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'd call this harrowing, would you?" said James.<span class="pagenum">[335]</span></p> + +<p>"Well," said the other apologetically, "I've only been +on the job a few months and this human interest stuff +sort of gets me. This is the first big one of the kind I've +been on. I guess there's enough human interest here to-day +for any one, though!"</p> + +<p>"There doesn't seem to be enough to inconvenience you," +observed James. "Not you, so much, but—" with a wave +toward the reporters' table—"those—the others."</p> + +<p>The young man laughed slightly. "Oh, you can stand +pretty near anything after you've been on the job for a +while! You see, when you're on the news end of a thing +like this you don't have time to get worked up. When +you're hot foot after every bit of stuff you can get, and +have to hustle to the telephone to send it in the same minute, +so's not to get beaten on it, you don't bother about +whether people have hysterics or not. You simply can't—you +haven't got time! That's why these fellows all +seem so calm—it's <i>business</i> to them, you see. They're not +really hard-hearted, or anything like that. Gosh, it's lucky +for me, though, that I'm here on business, if I have to be +here at all!"</p> + +<p>"You mean you're glad you don't know any one on the +train?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord yes, that—but I'm glad I have something to +keep me busy, as long as I'm here. If I were just standing +round, watching, say—gosh, I wouldn't answer for what +I'd do! I'd probably have hysterics myself, just from seeing +the others!"</p> + +<p>This gave James something more to think about.</p> + +<p>He saw now that he had misjudged the reporters; even +these harpies gave him something to envy. If one was going +to feel indifferent at a time like this it would be well +to feel at least an honest professional indifference.... +But that was not all. Had not this young man admitted +that the mere sight of such suffering would have stirred +him to the depths if he did not have his business to think +of, and that without being personally concerned in the accident? +While he himself, with every reason to suffer +every anxiety in this crucial moment, was quite the calmest +person in the room, able to lecture a hysterical mother on +the doctrine of chances! Was he dead to all human feeling?</p> + +<p>There was a moment of calm in the room, which was<span class="pagenum">[336]</span> +broken by the entrance of a tall blonde young man—a college +undergraduate, to all appearances.</p> + +<p>"Can any of you tell me if Car 1058 was on the Maine +Special?" he asked the reporters.</p> + +<p>No one had heard of Car 1058. Research among the +bulletins failed to reveal any mention of it.</p> + +<p>"What's the name of the person you're interested in?" +asked some one. "We might be able to tell you something."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it wasn't any <i>person</i>," the young man explained; +"it was my dog I was looking for. I've found he was +shipped on Car 1058. A water spaniel, he was. I don't +suppose you've heard anything?"</p> + +<p>A moment of silence followed this announcement, and +then one of the reporters began to laugh. There was nothing +funny about it, of course, except the contrast. They +all knew it was by the merest accident that Fannie +Schmidt's contusions had been flashed over the wires rather +than the fate of the water spaniel.</p> + +<p>The youth flushed to the roots of his yellow hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, it's very funny, of course," he said, and stalked +out of the room. But there shone another light in his eyes +than the gleam of anger.</p> + +<p>"Say, there's copy in that," observed one reporter, and +straightway they were all busy writing.</p> + +<p>James had smiled with the others, but his merriment was +short-lived. This indeed was the finishing stroke. That +young fellow actually was more concerned about his +dog....</p> + +<p>The relief train was due to arrive at 1:30, and shortly +before that hour there was a general adjournment to the +concourse. A crowd had already gathered before the gate +through which the survivors would presently file. James +looked at the waiting people and shuddered slightly. He +preferred not to wait there.</p> + +<p>Passing by a news stand he bought the latest extra. It +was curious to see the contents of those press agent flimsies +transcribed on the flaring columns as the livest news obtainable. +Well, all that would be changed shortly.... His +own name caught his eye; a paragraph was devoted to +telling how he had waited in the station, and why. "Mr. +Wimbourne was entirely calm and self-contained," the item +ended. Calm and self-contained. And those people took +it for a virtue!...<span class="pagenum">[337]</span></p> + +<p>The gates were opened to allow the friends of passengers +on the ill-fated train to pass through to the platform. The +reporters were unusually silent as James walked by. James +knew what their silence meant, and writhed under it.</p> + +<p>The platform was dark and chilly. Like a tomb, almost.... +The idea was suggestive, but his heart was stone against +it. The thought of seeing Beatrice walking up the platform +in a moment was enough to check any possible indulgence +of feeling. That was the way such things always +had been rewarded, with him. He could not remember having +entertained one such emotional impulse in the past that +had not led him into fresh misery.</p> + +<p>He had waited nearly two hours and there was absolutely +no indication as to whether Beatrice had suffered or not. +He had telephoned several times to his flat, to which the +servants had lately returned, and to his office and had +learned that no word had been received at either place. +That meant nothing. Five names of people killed had been +received when he left the press office, and hers was not +among them. But the number of dead was said to be +larger than was at first expected; it would probably reach +into the twenties. Part of one Pullman, it appeared, had +been entirely destroyed by fire, and several people were +believed to have perished in it. There was no telling, of +course, till the train came in. The chances were still overwhelmingly +in favor of Beatrice's safety, of course....</p> + +<p>One torment had been spared him: Tommy had not +turned up. There would be no scene; he would not have +to look on while his wife and her lover, maddened by the +pangs of separation and suspense, rushed into each other's +arms.... Ah, no; he would not deceive himself. His +relief at Tommy's absence was really due to the fact that +he had been spared the sight of some one genuinely and +whole-heartedly anxious about Beatrice's fate.</p> + +<p>The train crawled noiselessly into the station. James +posted himself near the inner end of the platform, so as +to be sure not to miss her. Soon groups began to file by +of people laughing and crying and embracing each other, +as unconscious to appearances as children. How many +happy reunions, how many quarrels and misunderstandings +mended forever by an hour or two of intense suffering!... +No, that was a foolish thought, of course.</p> + +<p>Presently he saw her, or rather a hat which he recognized<span class="pagenum">[338]</span> +as hers, moving up the platform. He braced himself +and walked forward with lowered eyes, trying to think of +something felicitous to say. He dared not look up till +she was quite near. At last he raised a hand toward her, +opened his mouth to speak, and found himself staring into +the face of a perfectly strange woman.</p> + +<p>The mischance unnerved him. He lost control of himself +and darted aimlessly to and fro through the crowd +for a few moments, like a rabbit. Then he rushed back +to the gate and stood there watching till the last passenger +had left the platform and white shrouded things on wheels +began to appear.</p> + +<p>He saw a uniformed official and addressed him, asking +where he could find a complete list of the dead and injured. +The man silently handed him a paper. James ran his eyes +feverishly down the list of names. There it was—Wim—no, +no, Wilson. Her name was not there. He raised his +eyes questioningly to the official.</p> + +<p>"No, that list is not complete," said the man.</p> + +<p>He led James away to one or two other uniformed officials, +and then to a man who was not in uniform. At +length it was arranged; James was to take the first train +for Stamford. Some one gave him a pass.</p> + +<p>But before he went he telegraphed to Bar Harbor. It +was necessary to have conclusive proof that Beatrice was +on the train. As he recrossed the concourse, now converted +into a happy hunting ground for the reporters, he +caught sight of Mrs. Lindenbaum, the anxious mother. She +was alone, but the expression on her face left no doubt as +to how the day had turned out for her. He stopped and +spoke to her:</p> + +<p>"Your son is all right, is he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" She turned toward him a face fairly transfigured +with joy. "He wasn't hurt at all—just scratched a +little by broken glass. He and my daughter have just gone +to telephone to some people.... What do you think—he +was the first one in his car to break open a window and let +the smoke out! He reached up with his umbrella and +smashed it open—that was how he got out. And he dragged +out three people who were unconscious...." She stopped +and laughed. "You must excuse me—I'm foolish!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," replied James. "I'm so glad—" He<span class="pagenum">[339]</span> +started to move on, but the woman stopped him, suddenly +remembering.</p> + +<p>"But what about—I do hope—" she began.</p> + +<p>"No," said James quietly. "I'm sorry to say my news +is bad." He had little doubt now as to the verdict, but +bad—! Was it? Oh, was it?</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was early evening before he returned. His expedition +had been painful in the extreme, but wholly without +definite results. There had been one or two charred fragments +of clothing that might or might not have been.... +It was too horrible to think much about.</p> + +<p>He knew for certain no more than when he started out, +but conviction was only increased, for all that. What was +there left to imagine but what that heap of cinders suggested? +There was just one other chance, one bare possibility; +Beatrice might not have left Bar Harbor, at any +rate not on that train. The answer to his telegram would +settle that.</p> + +<p>He found the yellow envelope awaiting him on the hall +table. He lifted it slowly and paused a moment before +opening it, wondering if he could trust himself to hope or +feel anything in this final instant of uncertainty. Anything! +Any human feeling to break this shell of indifference....</p> + +<p>No use. Something in his brain refused to work.</p> + +<p>He tore open the envelope. "Beatrice left last night on +the seven o'clock ferry; nothing more known. Please wire +latest news," he read.</p> + +<p>Well, that settled it, at any rate. He knew what the +facts were; now he had only to bring himself face to face +with them. Yet still he found himself dodging the issue, +letting his thoughts wander into obscure by-paths. His +brain was strangely lethargic, his heart more so, if possible, +than in the station this morning. It was not that he +felt bitter or cruel; he explained the situation to the maid, +as she served him his dinner, with great tact and consideration, +and afterward arranged certain matters of detail with +all his usual care and foresight. It was only when he +looked into himself that he met darkness.</p> + +<p>Uncle James, who was in town on business, dropped in +during the evening. James told him the results of his<span class="pagenum">[340]</span> +labors and watched the first hopefulness of his uncle's face +freeze gradually into conviction.</p> + +<p>"I see, I see," said Uncle James at last. "There's nothing +more to be done, then? Any use I can be, in any +way—"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied James gravely, "there's nothing +more to be done."</p> + +<p>Uncle James rose to go and then hesitated. "Well, there +it is," he said; "it's just got to be faced, I suppose. A +major sorrow—the great blow of a lifetime. Not many of +us are called upon to bear such great things, James. I +never have been, and never shall, now. We feel less +sharply as we grow older.... It's a great sorrow, a great +trial—but I can't help feeling, somehow, that it's also a +great chance.... But I'm only harrowing you—I'm +sorry." He turned and went out without another word.</p> + +<p>Presently James wandered into the bedroom that had +once been hers. He turned on all the lights as if in the +hope that illuminating the places she had been familiar +with would bring the memory of her more sharply to his +mind. Yes, it all seemed very natural; he would not say +but what it made death less terrible. The fact that her +chair was in its accustomed place before her dressing table +did somehow make it easier to remember the events of that +afternoon. He sat down before the dressing table. There +was little on it to bring an intimate recollection of her to +his mind; most of her small possessions she had naturally +taken away with her to Bar Harbor. He opened a drawer +and discovered nothing but a small box of hairpins.</p> + +<p>He took them out and handled them gently for a moment. +Hairpins! Even so, they brought her back more +vividly than anything had yet done—the soft dark hair +sweeping back from the forehead, the lovely arch of her +nose, and all the rest of it.... He supposed she ought to +seem aloof and unapproachable, now that she was dead, but +it was not so at all. He remembered her only as feminine +and appealing. She certainly had been very beautiful. +And of all that beauty there remained only—hairpins. +The fact of human mortality pressed suddenly down on +him. Some time, a few days or a few decades hence, he +would cease to exist, even as Beatrice, and nothing would +remain of him but—Not hairpins, indeed, but hardly anything +more substantial. A society pin, a little gold football,<span class="pagenum">[341]</span> +a few papers bearing his signatures in McClellan's +files....</p> + +<p>Poor Beatrice!</p> + +<p>A feeling touched his heart at last; one of pity. Poor +Beatrice! Fate had treated her harshly, far beneath her +deserts. She had sinned.... Had she? It was not for +him to settle that; she had been human, even as he. She +had been frail; leave it at that. The strongest of us are +weak at times. Only most of us are given a chance to regain +our strength, pull ourselves together after a fall, make +something out of ourselves at last. This opportunity had +been denied Beatrice. Surely it was hard that she should +be cut off thus in the depth of her frailty, at the lowest +ebb of all that was good in her. The weakest deserved better +than that.</p> + +<p>So he sat meditating on the tragedy of her life as he +might, in an idle mood, have brooded over the story of a +lovely and unhappy queen of long ago, some appealing, +wistful figure of the past with whom he had nothing in +common but mortality. The sense of his own detachment +from the story of his wife's life struck him at last and +roused him to fresh pity. He went into his dressing room +and fetched the photograph of her that he had thought it +advisable to keep on his bureau. He stood it up on her +dressing table and sat down again to study it. Poor Beatrice! +It was pathetic that she, so young, so beautiful, so +lonely, should be unmourned, since his feeling could not +properly be described as mourning....</p> + +<p>"Poor Beatrice," he murmured, "is pity all I can feel +for you?"</p> + +<p>A bell sounded somewhere, the front door bell. He +scarcely noticed it.</p> + +<p>No, there was one person to mourn her, of course—Tommy. +The thought of him sent a sudden shudder +through him. Tommy! He wondered if he could bring +himself to be decent to Tommy in case he should turn up.... +Just like him, the nauseous little brute!</p> + +<p>No, that thought was unworthy of him. What particular +grudge had he against Tommy? Hitherto he had not even +taken the trouble to despise Tommy, and surely there was +no point in beginning now. No, he must be decent to +Tommy, if the occasion should arise.</p> + +<p>But that Tommy should be chief mourner! Poor Beatrice!...<span class="pagenum">[342]</span></p> + +<p>Presently he roused himself with a slight start. He did +not wish to grudge his wife what slight homage he could +pay her, but he felt that he had perhaps gone far enough. +One felt what one could; harping over things was merely +morbid. He rose and quietly left the room.</p> + +<p>The lights in the hall seemed dim and low. A gentle +glow shone through the living room door. That was odd; +he thought he remembered turning out the light in the +room before he left it. Then he became aware of a sentence +or two being spoken in a low voice in that room, and +the next moment one of the servants walked out of the door +and into the hall.</p> + +<p>He brushed past her, wondering who could have arrived +at this time of night. At the door he stopped, strained his +eyes to pierce the half-gloom and became aware of a figure +standing before him, a silent, black-robed figure, full of a +strange portent....</p> + +<p>Aunt Selina.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[343]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII2">CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p class="h3">RED FLAME</p> + +<p>"James, is it true—what she just told me?" Her +voice was full of anxiety and horror, but in some +curious way she still managed to be the self-possessed Aunt +Selina of old. Even in that moment James found time to +admire her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Aunt Selina, I'm afraid it's true."</p> + +<p>"Is there no hope, no chance—"</p> + +<p>"None, that I can see."</p> + +<p>"Then ... oh!" She gave way at that, seeming to +crumple where she stood. James helped her to a sofa and +silently went into the dining room and mixed some whisky +and water. Aunt Selina stared when he offered it to her, +and then took it without a word. How like Aunt Selina +again! A fool would have raised objections. James almost +smiled.</p> + +<p>"How do you happen to be here, Aunt Selina?" he asked +after a few moments, less in the desire of knowing than in +the hope of diverting her. "You didn't come from Bar +Harbor to-day?"</p> + +<p>"From Boston."</p> + +<p>"Boston?"</p> + +<p>"I took the boat to Boston last night. I learned of the +accident there. I supposed she was safe—the papers said +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. But—but how did you happen to leave +Bar Harbor at all?"</p> + +<p>"I was going to meet her here."</p> + +<p>"Her?"</p> + +<p>"Beatrice."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"No, and oh, my poor boy, I've got to make you!" She +said this quietly, almost prayerfully, with the air of a +person laboring under a weighty mission. James had no +reply to offer and walked off feeling curiously uncomfortable. +There was a long silence.<span class="pagenum">[344]</span></p> + +<p>"Come over here and sit down, James; I want to talk to +you," said Aunt Selina at last. She spoke in her natural +tone of voice; there was no more of the priestess about her. +There was that about her, however, that made him obey.</p> + +<p>"James, I've got to tell you a few things about Beatrice. +Some things I don't believe you know. Do you mind?"</p> + +<p>"No," said James slowly, "I don't know that I do."</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place, I suppose you thought she was +in love with that Englishman?"</p> + +<p>James nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, she wasn't—not one particle. Whatever else +may or may not be true, that is. She despised him."</p> + +<p>James froze, paused as though deciding whether or not +to discuss the matter and then said gently: "I have my +own ideas about that, Aunt Selina."</p> + +<p>She nodded briefly, almost briskly. It was the most effective +reply she could have made. The more businesslike +the words the greater the impression on James, always, +in any matter. Aunt Selina understood perfectly. She +let her effect sink in and waited calmly for him to demand +proof. This he did at last, going to the very heart of the +subject.</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps, Aunt Selina, you can account for certain +things...."</p> + +<p>"No, I shall only tell you what I know. You must do +your own accounting." She paused a moment and then +went on: "You've heard nothing since you left Bar Harbor, +I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Beatrice was quite ill for a time after you left. For +days she lay in bed unable to move, but there seemed to be +nothing specific the matter with her. We called in the +doctor and he said the same old thing—rest and fresh air. +He knew considerably less what was the matter with her +than any one else in the house, which is saying a good deal.</p> + +<p>"Lord Clairloch left the day after you did. Beatrice +saw him once, that evening, and sent him away. The next +day he went, saying vaguely that he had to go back to +New York.</p> + +<p>"James, of course I knew. I couldn't live in the house +with the two people I cared most for in the world and not +see things, not <i>feel</i> things. The only wonder is that nobody +else guessed. It seemed incredible to me, who was<span class="pagenum">[345]</span> +so keenly alive to the whole business. Time and time again +when Cecilia opened her mouth to speak to me I thought +she was going to talk about that, and then she would speak +about some unimportant subject, and I blessed her for her +denseness. And how I thanked Heaven that that sharp-nosed +little minx Ruth wasn't there! She'd have smelt the +whole thing out in no time.</p> + +<p>"Gradually Beatrice mended. Her color came back and +she seemed stronger. At last one evening—only Tuesday it +was; think of it!—she came down to dinner with a peculiar +sort of glitter in her eyes. She told us that she felt able +to travel and was going to New York the next day. She +had engaged her accommodations and everything. Of +course I knew what that meant....</p> + +<p>"Knowledge can be a terrible thing, James. For days it +had preyed on me, and now when the moment for action +came I was almost too weak to respond. Oh, how I was +tempted to sit back and say nothing and let things take their +course!... But I simply couldn't fall back in the end, I +simply couldn't. After bedtime that evening I went to +the door of her room and knocked.</p> + +<p>"I found her in the midst of packing. I told her I had +something to say to her and would wait till she was ready. +She said she was listening.</p> + +<p>"'Beatrice,' said I, 'I've always tried to mind my own +business above all things, but I'm going to break my rule +now. I'm fond of you, Beatrice; if I offend you remember +that. I simply can't watch you throw your life away without +raising a finger to stop you.'</p> + +<p>"She didn't flare up, she didn't even ask me how I +knew; she only gave a sort of groan and said: 'Oh, but +Aunt Selina, I haven't any life to throw away! It's all +been burned and frozen out of me; there's nothing left but +a shell, and that won't last long! Can't you let me pass +the little that remains in peace? That's all I ask for—I +gave up happiness long ago. It won't last long! It can +hurt no one!'</p> + +<p>"'You have an immortal soul,' said I; 'you can hurt +that.'</p> + +<p>"She sat looking at the floor for a while and then said +imploringly: 'Don't ask me to go back to James, Aunt +Selina, for that's the one thing I can't do.' 'I shan't ask +you to do anything,' I told her, but I knew perfectly well<span class="pagenum">[346]</span> +that I was prepared to go down on my knees before her, +when the time came....</p> + +<p>"But it hadn't come yet—there was a great deal to be +done first. What I did was to tell her something about my +own life, in the hope that it might throw a new light on her +situation. I told her things that I've never told to a human +being and never expected to tell another....</p> + +<p>"James, I think I ought to tell you the whole thing, as I +told it to her. It may help you to understand ... certain +things you must understand. Do you mind?"</p> + +<p>She paused, less for the purpose of obtaining his consent +than in order to gain a perfect control over her voice and +manner. Taking James' silence as acquiescence she folded +her hands in her lap and went on in a low quiet voice:</p> + +<p>"I haven't had much of a life, according to most ways +of thinking. All I ever knew of life, as I suppose you know +it, was concentrated into a few months. Not that I didn't +have a good time during my girlhood and youth. My +mother died when I was a baby, but my stepmother took +as good care of me as if I had been her own child, and I +loved her almost like my own mother. I've often thought, +though, that if my mother had lived things might have +turned out differently. Stepmothers are never quite the +same thing.</p> + +<p>"Well, I grew up and flew about with the college boys in +the usual way. I never cared a rap for any of them, beyond +the bedtime raptures that girls go through. I was +able to manage them all pretty easily; I see now that I +was too attractive to them. I had a great deal of what in +those days was referred to as 'animation,' which is another +way of saying that I was an active, strong-willed, selfish little +savage. I was willing to play with the college men, but I +always said that when I fell in love it would be with a <i>real</i> +man. I laughed when I said it, but I meant it.</p> + +<p>"Presently there came a change. Father died, and when +I came out of mourning the college men I knew best had +graduated and the others seemed too young and silly for +me even to play with. It was at about this time, when I +was adjusting myself to new conditions and casting about +for something to occupy my mind that I came to know +Milton Leffert."</p> + +<p>James stirred slightly. Aunt Selina smiled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you've heard of him, of course. It gives one a<span class="pagenum">[347]</span> +curious feeling, doesn't it, to learn that dead people, or +people who are as good as dead, have had their lives? I +know, I know ... I think you'd have liked Milton Leffert. +He was very quiet and not at all striking in appearance, +but he was strong and there was no nonsense about him. +He was more than ten years older than I. I had known +him only slightly before that time. Then after Father's +death he began coming to see me a good deal and we fell +into the habit of walking and driving together. I always +liked him. I loved talking with him; he was the first man +I ever talked much with on serious subjects. He stimulated +me, and I enjoyed being with him. Only, it never occurred +to me that he could be the Real Man.</p> + +<p>"You've often heard of women refusing men because +of their poverty. Well, the chief thing that prejudiced me +against Milton Leffert was his wealth. He happened to +possess a large fortune made and left to him by his father, +and he didn't do much except take care of it, together with +that of his sister Jane. He was president of the one concern +his father had not sold out before he died, but that +was the sort of thing that ran itself; he didn't spend an +hour a day at it. That wasn't much of a career, according +to the way I thought at that time, and when he first began +asking me to marry him I laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"'You can't know me very well, Milton,' I said, 'if you +suppose I could be content with a ready-made man. I +like you very much, but you're not the husband for me.'</p> + +<p>"'What do you mean by a ready-made man?' he asked, +looking at me out of his quiet gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"'I should say it was sufficiently obvious,' I said. +'There's nothing the matter with you, and I hate to hurt +you, but—well, you're not dynamic.'</p> + +<p>"I stopped to see how he would take that. He was silent +for a while, then at last he said: 'I don't think that's a +very good reason for refusing a man.'</p> + +<p>"I laughed; the grave way he said it was so characteristic +of him. 'Oh, Milton,' I said, 'I really think that's the +only reason in the world to make me refuse a man. I +don't much believe I shall ever marry, but if I do it will +be to a man that I can help win his fight in the world; +somebody with whom I can march side by side through +life, whom I alone can help and encourage and inspire! +He's got to be the kind that will start at the bottom and<span class="pagenum">[348]</span> +work his way up to the top, and who couldn't do it without +me! That's not you, Milton. You have no fight to +make—your father made it for you. You start in at the +top, the wrong end. Of course there are still higher summits +you could aim for, but you never will, Milton. You're +not that kind; you'll hold on to what you have, and no +more. I'm not blaming you; you were made that way. +And there must be a great many people like you in the +world. And I <i>like</i> you none the less. Only I can't marry +you.'</p> + +<p>"'But I don't see what difference all this would make,' +he said, 'if you only loved me.'</p> + +<p>"'My dear man,' said I, 'don't you see that it's only +that sort of a man who could make me love him? If you +had it in you, I suppose I should love you. You don't suppose +I could love you without that, do you? I'm afraid +you don't understand me very well, Milton!'</p> + +<p>"'I'm learning all the time,' he answered, and that was +the nearest thing to a witty or humorous remark that I ever +heard him make.</p> + +<p>"'Then again,' I went on, 'our ages are too far apart. +Even if you were the sort I mean, we shouldn't be starting +even. The fight would be half won when I came in, and +that would never do. I shouldn't feel as if I were part of +your life. A marriage like that wouldn't be a marriage, +it would be a sweet little middle-aged idyll!'</p> + +<p>"He flushed at that. 'A man can't change his age, +Selina; you have no right to taunt me with that.'</p> + +<p>"'I didn't mean to taunt you—I only wanted to explain,' +said I. 'And the last thing in the world I want to +do is to hurt you.'</p> + +<p>"'But that's the only thing a man can't change,' he +went on after a moment, paying no attention to my apology. +After another pause he added: 'I shan't give you up, +mind,' and when we talked again it was of other things.</p> + +<p>"I went on seeing him as before, though not quite so +often. Then presently I went away on some long visits +and did not see him for several months. When I came +back I noticed that his manner was more animated than +before, and that somehow he looked younger. I remember +being quite pleased.—He was thirty-four at the time, and +I not quite twenty-three.</p> + +<p>"It was perfectly evident, even to me, that he was working<span class="pagenum">[349]</span> +to win me. I saw it, but I did not pay any attention +to it; when I thought about it at all it was with a sort of +amusement. One day he came to me apparently very much +pleased about something.</p> + +<p>"'Congratulate me, Selina,' he said; 'I've just got my +appointment.'</p> + +<p>"'Appointment?' said I. I truthfully had no idea what +he was talking about.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' he went on, 'I begin work on the board next +week.'</p> + +<p>"'What board?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, the tax board—the city tax board. Surely you +knew?'</p> + +<p>"Then I laughed—I remember it so distinctly. 'Good +gracious, Milton,' I said, 'I thought it must be the Cabinet +of the United States, at the very least!' Then I saw his +face, and knew that I had hurt him.</p> + +<p>"'It's splendid, of course,' I added. 'I do congratulate +you, indeed, most heartily. Only—only Milton, you were +so serious!'</p> + +<p>"I laughed again. He stared at me and after a moment +laughed himself, a little. I suppose that laugh was +the greatest effort he had made yet. I know I liked him +better at that moment than ever before. If he had let it +go at that who knows what might have happened?</p> + +<p>"But he changed again after a few seconds; he scowled +and became more serious than ever. 'No!' he said angrily, +'why should I laugh with you over the most serious thing +in my life? Why should you want to make me? First you +blame me for not making anything of myself, and now, +when I am trying my best to do it, you laugh at me +for being serious! Of course I'm serious about my work—I +shan't pretend to be anything else.'</p> + +<p>"Of course that was all wrong, too. Every one admires +a man who can laugh a little about his work. But I felt a +sort of hopelessness in trying to explain it to him; I was +afraid he would never really understand. So instead I +drew him out on the new work he had taken up and tried +to make him talk about the plans he had in mind, of which +the tax board was only the first step. He seemed rather +shy about talking of the future.</p> + +<p>"'It's a case for actions, not words,' he said. 'I don't +want to give you the impression that I'm only a talker.<span class="pagenum">[350]</span> +You'll see, in time, what you've made of me,' and he +smiled at me in a way that rather went to my heart.</p> + +<p>"'Milton,' I said, 'I'm more than glad if I can be of +help to you, in any way, but I should be deceiving you if I +let you think there's any hope—any more hope, even, than +there was.'</p> + +<p>"But that was the kind of talk he understood best. +'Selina,' he said, 'don't you bother about caring for me. +The time hasn't come for that yet. I'm not even ready +for it myself—there's a lot to be done first. The time will +come, at last; I'm sure of it. A woman can't have such +a power over a man as you have over me without coming to +have some feeling for him in the end, if it's only pride in +her own handiwork. But even if it never should come, do +you think I could regret what I've done, what I'm going +to do? You've made a man of me, Selina. That stands, +no matter what happens!'</p> + +<p>"Of course that sort of thing can't help but make an +impression on a woman, and it had its effect on me. It +made me a little nervous; it was like raising a Frankenstein. +I began to wonder if I should come to be swallowed +up in this new life I had unwillingly created. Once or +twice I caught myself wondering how it would feel to be +the wife of Milton Leffert....</p> + +<p>"But about that time my stepmother began talking to +me about it and trying to persuade me to marry him, and +that had the effect of making me like the thought less. +Somehow she made it seem almost like a duty, and if there +was one thing I couldn't abide it was the idea of marrying +from a sense of duty. Then other things came into my +life and for a time I ceased to think of him almost entirely.</p> + +<p>"We went abroad for several months, my stepmother +and the two boys and I. Hilary had been seriously ill, and +we thought the change would do him good. And as he had +a good deal of study to make up—he was fourteen at the +time—my stepmother engaged a young man to go with us +and tutor him and be a companion to the boys generally.</p> + +<p>"You might almost guess the rest. I saw my stepmother +wince when he met us at the steamer—we had engaged him +by letter and had no idea what he looked like. I suppose +it had never occurred to her before that there might be +danger in placing me in daily companionship with a man<span class="pagenum">[351]</span> +of about my own age. It certainly occurred to her then.</p> + +<p>"James, I know I can't make it sound plausible to you, +but even now I don't wonder I fell in love with him. I +don't suppose a more attractive man was ever born. He +was thin and brown and had a pure aquiline profile—but +it's no use describing him. Think of the most attractive +person you ever knew and make him ten times more so and +perhaps you'll get some idea.</p> + +<p>"He was quite poor—that also took my fancy. He was +trying to earn money enough to put himself through law +school. Those who knew him said he was a brilliant student +and that a great career lay before him, and I believed it. +He certainly was as bright and keen as they make 'em, and +very witty and amusing. Occasionally Harry reminds me +of him, and that makes me worry about Harry.... Of +course I was tremendously taken with his mental qualities, +and I had all sorts of romantic notions about helping him +to make a great place for himself in the world, and all the +rest of it. But as a matter of fact what drew me to him +chiefly was simple animal attraction. It wasn't wrong and +it wasn't unnatural, but—well, it was unfortunate.</p> + +<p>"Even my stepmother felt it. I don't know how long it +was before she knew what was going on, but she never made +any effort to stop it. Like a sensible woman she kept her +mouth shut and determined to let things take their course. +But she never talked to me any more about Milton Leffert, +and as a matter of fact I know she would have been perfectly +willing that I should marry Adrian. Yes, that was +his first name. I shan't tell you his last, because he's still +alive.</p> + +<p>"I remember telling myself when I first saw him that +such an absurdly handsome person could not have much to +him, but he appeared better and better as time went on. +He was thoughtful and tactful and knew how to efface himself. +He was splendid with the boys; Hilary in particular +took a tremendous fancy to him and would do anything he +said. He was the greatest influence in Hilary's life up to +that time, and I really think the best. He was an extraordinary +person. By the end of the first month I suspected +he was the Real Man. By the end of the second I +was convinced of it, and by the end of the third I would +willingly have placed my head under his foot any time +he gave the word. By the end of the sixth month I<span class="pagenum">[352]</span> +wouldn't have touched him with my foot—I'm sure of it. +But there never was any sixth month.</p> + +<p>"In the month of June we were on the Lake of Como. +There happened to be a full moon. Como in the moonlight +is not the safest place in the world for young people, under +any circumstances. In our case it was sure to lead to +something.</p> + +<p>"We had strolled up to a terrace high above the lake +and stood for a long time leaning over the balustrade drinking +in the beauty of the scene. For a long time we said +nothing, and apparently the same thought struck us both—that +it was all too beautiful to be true. At any rate after +a time Adrian sighed and said: 'Oh, this damnable moonlight!'</p> + +<p>"'Why?'I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Because it makes everything seem so unreal—the lake, +the mountains, the nightingales, everything. It's like a +poem by Lamartine. But I don't mind that—I like Lamartine. +The trouble is it makes you seem unreal too. Oh, I +know that you're where you are and are flesh and blood +and that if I pinched you you'd probably scream and all +that—'</p> + +<p>"'No, I shouldn't,' said I. 'I wouldn't be real if I did.'</p> + +<p>"He sighed. 'That shows it,' he said; 'that proves exactly +what I say. You're not really living this; your soul +isn't really here. I'm not really in your life. I'm just a +pretty little episode, a stage property, a part of the lake +and the moonlight, a part of every summer vacation!'</p> + +<p>"'If you're not really in my life,' said I, 'doesn't it +occur to you that it's because of your unreality, not mine?'</p> + +<p>"'You admit that I'm not real to you, then?'</p> + +<p>"'No,' said I, 'but it would be your own fault if you +weren't.'</p> + +<p>"'What about that man in New Haven, is he real?' he +asked suddenly. I only flushed, and he went on: 'That's +it—he's the real man in your life. You're willing to play +about with me in the summertime, but when the winter +comes you'll go straight back and marry him. I'm all +right for the moonlight, but you want him in the cold gray +light of the dawn! He's the Old and New Testaments to +you, and I'm only—a poem by Lamartine! And with me—oh, +Lord!' He buried his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether it was pure accident or whether<span class="pagenum">[353]</span> +he somehow guessed part of the truth. At any rate it +roused me. I was very sure that what he said was not +true, or at least I was very anxious that it should not be +true, which often comes to the same thing. I argued with +him for some time, and when words failed there were other +things. But he did not seem entirely convinced.</p> + +<p>"After a while, as we sat there, Hilary appeared with a +telegram that had just arrived for me. I saw that it was +a cable message and thought it was probably from Milton +Leffert, as he had said that he might possibly come abroad +on business during the summer and would look me up if he +did. And somehow the thought of Milton Leffert at that +moment filled me with the most intense disgust....</p> + +<p>"'Now,' I said when Hilary had gone, 'I'm tired of +arguing; here may be a chance to prove myself by actions. +Open this telegram, and tell me if it's from Milton Leffert!'</p> + +<p>"He looked at me in a dazed sort of way. 'Open it!' +I repeated, stamping my foot. I was drunk with love and +moonlight and I imagine I must have acted like a fury. I +know I felt like one.</p> + +<p>"He opened the telegram and read it, gravely and +silently.</p> + +<p>"'Is it or is it not from Milton Leffert?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes. He—'</p> + +<p>"'That's all I want to know—don't say another word! +Do you hear? Never tell me another word about that +telegram as long as you live! And now destroy it—here—before +my eyes! I'm going to put Milton Leffert out of +my life forever, here and now! Go on, destroy it!'</p> + +<p>"Adrian hesitated. He seemed almost frightened. +'But—' he began.</p> + +<p>"'Adrian!' I turned toward him with the moonlight +beating full down on me. I was not so bad-looking in +those days; I daresay I was not bad-looking at all as I +stood there in the moonlight. At least I know that woman +never used her beauty more consciously than I did in that +moment.</p> + +<p>"'Adrian, look at me! Do you love me?'</p> + +<p>"He allowed that he did.</p> + +<p>"'Then do what I say. Destroy that telegram and never +mention it or that man's name to me again!'</p> + +<p>"A change came over him. He hesitated no longer; he +became forceful and determined.<span class="pagenum">[354]</span></p> + +<p>"'Very well,' he cried, 'if you're not mine now you will +be! Here's good-by to Milton Leffert!'</p> + +<p>"He took some matches from his pocket and lit the end +of the paper. When it was burning brightly he dropped +it over the edge of the terrace and it floated out into the +space beneath. We stood together and watched it as it +fell, burning red in the moonlight....</p> + +<p>"Then for some weeks we were happy. Adrian seemed +particularly so; he had had his gloomy moods before that +but now they passed away entirely. And if there was a +cloud of suspicion that I had done wrong in my own mind +I was so happy in seeing Adrian's joy that I paid no attention +to it.</p> + +<p>"Only one thing struck me as odd; he would not let me +tell my stepmother. He gave a number of reasons for it; +it would make his position with us uncomfortable; he could +not be a tutor and a lover at the same time; he was writing +to his relatives and wanted to wait till they knew; we must +wait till we were absolutely sure of ourselves, and so forth. +One of these reasons might have convinced me, but his giving +so many of them made me suspect, even as I obeyed +him, that none of them was the real one. I wondered what +it could be. I found out, soon enough.</p> + +<p>"We left Italy and worked slowly northward. Several +weeks after the scene on the terrace we reached Paris. +There we met a number of our American friends, some of +whom had just arrived from home. One day my stepmother +and I were sitting talking with one of these—Elizabeth +Haldane it was—and in the course of the conversation +she happened to say: 'Very sad, isn't it, about poor Milton +Leffert?'</p> + +<p>"'What is sad?' asked my stepmother.</p> + +<p>"'Why, haven't you heard?' said Elizabeth. 'He died +a short time before we left. Brain fever or something of +the sort—from overwork, they said. He was planning to +run for the State Legislature this fall.' I saw her glancing +round; she couldn't keep her eyes off me. But I sat still as +a stone....</p> + +<p>"As soon as I could I took Adrian off alone.</p> + +<p>"'Adrian,' I said, 'the time has come when you've got +to tell me what was in that telegram.'</p> + +<p>"'Never,' said he, smiling. 'I promised, you know,'</p> + +<p>"'I release you from your promise.'<span class="pagenum">[355]</span></p> + +<p>"'Even so, I can't tell you.'</p> + +<p>"'Adrian,' said I, looking him full in the face, 'Milton +Leffert is dead.'</p> + +<p>"'I'm sorry to hear it,' said he.</p> + +<p>"I blazed up at that. 'Stop lying to me,' I cried, 'and +tell me what was in that telegram!'</p> + +<p>"He confessed at last that it was from Jane Leffert saying +that her brother was dangerously ill and asking me to +come to him if possible or at least send some message. I +knew well enough what it must have been, but I wanted to +wring it from his lips....</p> + +<p>"'Well, have you nothing to say to me?' he asked.</p> + +<p>"I didn't answer for some time—I couldn't. To tell the +truth I hadn't been thinking of him. At last I turned on +him. 'You contemptible creature,' I managed to say.</p> + +<p>"'Why?' he whined. 'You've no right to call me names. +You made me do it. If you're sorry now it's your own +fault.'</p> + +<p>"'I was to blame,' I answered. 'Heaven forbid that I +should try to excuse my own fault. But do you think that +lets you out? Suppose the positions had been reversed; +suppose you had been ill and Milton with me. Do you imagine +he would have let me remain in ignorance while you +lay dying and in need of me, no matter what I told him +to do or not to do? Are you so weak and mean that you +can't conceive of any one being strong and good?'</p> + +<p>"'It was because I loved you so much that I did it,' he +said.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, Adrian,' I told him, 'if you really loved me, why +did you let me do a thing you knew I'd live to regret? If +you really loved me, what had you to fear but that?'</p> + +<p>"'You might have saved his life,' he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, James, the anguish of hearing those words from +his lips! The man I did not love telling me I might have +saved the life of the man I did! For now that it was too +late I knew well enough who it was that I loved. In one +flash I saw the two men as they were, one strong, quiet, unselfish, +the other selfish, cowardly, mean-spirited. Now I +saw why he had not wanted me to tell my stepmother of +our engagement. He wanted to cover up his own part in +the affair in case anything unpleasant happened when I +heard of Milton's death.</p> + +<p>"I told my stepmother everything as soon as I could and<span class="pagenum">[356]</span> +she behaved splendidly. She sent Adrian away and I +never saw him again. And as I announced my intention +of going home on the next steamer she decided it was best +to give up the rest of her trip and take the boys along +back with me. So we all went, that same week.</p> + +<p>"People wondered, when we arrived so long ahead of +time, and came pretty near to guessing the whole truth. +But I didn't care. The one thing I wanted in the world +was to see Milton's sister, his one surviving relative.</p> + +<p>"'Jane Leffert,' I wrote her, 'if you can bear to look +on the woman who killed your brother, let her come and tell +you she's sorry.' She was a good woman and understood. +The next day I went to her house. She took me upstairs +and showed me his room, the bed where he had died. I +never said a word all the time. Then, as she was really +a very remarkable woman, she handed me an old brooch +of her mother's containing a miniature of him painted when +he was four years old, and told me it was mine to keep. +Then for the first time I broke down and cried....</p> + +<p>"If it hadn't been for Jane Leffert I think I should have +gone mad. She never tried to hide the truth from me. She +admitted, when I asked her, that Milton had, to all intents +and purposes, worked himself to death for me, and that +the doctor had said the one hope for him lay in his seeing +me or hearing I was coming to him. But never a word +of blame or reproach did she give me, never a hint of a +feeling of it. She knew how easy it is to make mistakes in +life, she knew how hard it is to atone for them. She it was +who gave me the blessed thought that it was worth while +to go on living as part of my atonement, and that if I put +into my life the things I had learned from him I might even, +to a certain extent, make Milton live on in me.</p> + +<p>"So instead of taking poison or becoming a Carmelite +nun I went on living at home as before, stimulated and inspired +by that idea. It was hard at first, but somehow the +harder things were the greater the satisfaction I took in life. +By the time I had lightened the remaining years of my +stepmother's life and nursed Jane Leffert through her last +illness I became content with my lot and, in a way, happy. +I never asked for happiness nor wanted it again on earth, +but it came, at last. There is something purifying about +loving a dead person very much. The chief danger is in +its making one morbid, but as I was always a thoroughly<span class="pagenum">[357]</span> +practical person with a strong natural taste for life it did +me nothing but good. But I don't prescribe it for any one +who can get anything better....</p> + +<p>"One thing in particular helped me to keep my mind on +earth and remind me of the far-reaching effects of wrong-doing. +I have said that Hilary, your father, was extremely +fond of Adrian. Well, somehow he got the idea into his +head that I had thrown him over because of his poverty, +and he never forgave me for it. Till his dying day he believed +that I really loved Adrian most but was afraid to +marry him. Over and over again I told him the truth, +taking a sort of fierce pleasure in being able to tell any one +that I had never loved any one but Milton Leffert.</p> + +<p>"'Then why did you let Adrian make love to you?' +Hilary would answer, 'and why did you make him burn +that telegram? I know, I heard you as I walked down +the path.' Nothing I could say ever made him understand. +And the hardest part of it was that I couldn't exactly blame +him for not being convinced.</p> + +<p>"Taking him at that impressionable time of life the +thing had a tremendous effect on him. The idea grew into +him that no human feeling could stand the test of hard +facts; that that was the way love worked out in real life. +From that time on his mind steadily developed and his soul +steadily dwindled. He became practical, brilliant, worldly +wise, heartless. We grew gradually more and more estranged; +you seldom heard him mention my name, I suppose? +That's why you never heard before what I've been +telling you, or at least the whole truth of it.... And so, +as he consciously modeled certain of his mannerisms after +those of Adrian he unconsciously grew more and more like +him in character; and I had the satisfaction of watching +the change and realizing that it was due, in part at least, +to me. And the thought of how I unwillingly hurt him +has made me all the more anxious to make reparation by +being of service to his two boys. Perhaps you can imagine +some of the things I've feared for them...."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Here Aunt Selina broke off, choked by a sudden gust of +emotion. James said nothing, but sat staring straight in +front of him. Presently his aunt, steadying her voice to its +accustomed pitch, went on:</p> + +<p>"Well, James, I told this to Beatrice, much as I've told<span class="pagenum">[358]</span> +it to you, though not at so great length, and I could see it +made an impression on her. She came over and sat down +by me and took my hand without speaking.</p> + +<p>"'You lived through all that?' she said at last, 'and +you never told any one?'</p> + +<p>"'Why should I have told?' I answered. 'There was no +one to tell. I've only told you because I thought it might +have some bearing on your own case.'</p> + +<p>"She caught her breath, gave a sort of little sigh. And +that sigh said, as plainly as words, 'Dear me, I was so interested +in your story I almost forgot I must get ready to +go to New York to-morrow.' It was a setback; I saw I had +overestimated the effect I had made. But I set my teeth +and went on, determined not to give her up yet.</p> + +<p>"'Beatrice,' I said, 'I haven't told you all this for the +pleasure of telling it nor to amuse you. I've told it to you +because I wanted to show you how such a course of action as +you're about to take works out in real life. There is a +strange madness that comes over women sometimes, especially +over strong women; a sort of obsession that makes +them think they are too good for the men they love. I +know it, I've felt it—I've suffered under it, if ever woman +did! It may seem irresistible while it lasts, but oh, the +remorse that comes afterward! Beatrice, how many times +do you suppose I've lived over each snubbing speech I +made to Milton Leffert? How often do you suppose my +laugh at him when he told me about the tax board has rung +through my ears? Those are the memories that stab the +soul, Beatrice; don't let there be any such in your life!'</p> + +<p>"She didn't answer, but sat staring at the floor.</p> + +<p>"'Beatrice,' I went on, 'there's no mortal suffering like +discovering you've done wrong when it's too late. It's +the curse of strong-willed people. It all seems so simple +to us at first; it's so easy for us to force our wills on other +people, to rule others and be free ourselves. Then something +happens, the true vision comes, and it's too late! +Beatrice, I've caught you in time—it's not too late for you +yet. Do you know where you stand now, Beatrice? You're +at the point where I was when I told Adrian to burn that +telegram!'</p> + +<p>"Still she said nothing, and the sight of her sitting there +so beautiful and cold drove me almost wild. 'Oh, Beatrice,' +I burst out, losing the last bit of my self-control, 'don't tell<span class="pagenum">[359]</span> +me I've got to live through it all again with you! Don't +go and repeat my mistake before my very eyes, with my example +before yours! It was hard enough to live through +it once myself, but what will it be when I sit helplessly +by and watch the people I love best go through it all! I +can't bear it, I can't, I can't! It takes all the meaning out +of my own life!...'</p> + +<p>"She was moved by my display of feeling, but not by +my words. She said nothing for a time, but took my hand +again and began stroking it gently, as if to quiet me. I +said nothing more—I couldn't speak. At last she said, in +a calm, gentle tone of voice, as if she were explaining +something to a child:—</p> + +<p>"'Aunt Selina, I don't think you quite understand about +my marriage with James. It isn't like other marriages, +exactly.'</p> + +<p>"'It seems to me enough that it is a marriage,' I answered. +'Though I haven't spoken of that side of it, of +course.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, you won't understand!' she said.</p> + +<p>"'Beatrice,' said I, 'I couldn't understand if you kept +telling me about it till to-morrow morning. No one ever +will understand you, except your Creator—you might as +well make up your mind to it. I don't doubt you've had +many wrong things done to you. The point is, you're about +to do one. Don't do it.'</p> + +<p>"Always back to the same old point, and nothing gained! +I had the feeling of having fired my last shot and missed. +I shut my eyes and leaned my head back and tried to think +of some new way of putting it to her, but as a matter of +fact I knew I had said all I had to say. And then, just as +I was giving her up for lost, I heard her speaking again.</p> + +<p>"'Aunt Selina,' she said, 'you have made me think of +one thing.'</p> + +<p>"'What's that, my dear?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Well, I don't doubt but what I have done wrong things +already, without suspecting it. Oh, yes, I've been too sure +of myself!'</p> + +<p>"'It's possible, my dear,' said I, 'but you haven't done +anything that you can't still make up for, if you want.'</p> + +<p>"'I think I know what you mean,' she said slowly; 'you +mean I could go and tell him so. Tell him I had done +wrong and was sorry—for I did sin, not in deed, but still in<span class="pagenum">[360]</span> +thought.... I never told him that, of course....' Then +she shivered. 'Oh, but Aunt Selina, I can't do it, I can't! +If you only knew how I've tried already, how I've +humiliated myself!'</p> + +<p>"'That never did any one any harm,' I told her.</p> + +<p>"'And then,' she went on, 'even if I did do it, he'd never +take me back—not on any terms! He'd only cast me away +again—that's what would happen, you know! What would +there be for me then but—Tommy?'</p> + +<p>"Well, I knew I'd won a great point in making her even +consider it.</p> + +<p>"'Several things,' I answered, taking no pains to conceal +my delight. 'In the first place, it's by no means certain +that he will refuse you. But if he does—well, you'll +never lack a home or a friend while I'm alive, my dear! +And don't you go and pretend that I'm not more to you +than that brainless, chinless, sniveling, driveling little fool +of an Englishman, for I won't believe it!'</p> + +<p>"She laughed at that and for a moment we both laughed +together. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I couldn't +do better than leave it at that, let that laugh end our talk.</p> + +<p>"'Good night, my dear,' I said, kissing her. 'The time +has come now when you've got to make up your mind for +yourself. I've done all I can for you.' And with that I +left her.</p> + +<p>"But, oh, James, it wasn't as simple as all that! It was +all very well to tell her that and go to bed, but if you knew +what agonies of doubt and suspense I went through during +the night, fearing, hoping, wondering, praying! Those +things are so much more complicated in real life than they +are when you read them or see them acted. What should +have happened was that I should have one grand scene with +her and make her promise at the end to do as I wanted. +And I did my best, I went as far as it was in me to go, +and knew no more of the result than before I began! And +we parted laughing—laughing, from that talk!</p> + +<p>"But almost the worst part of it was next morning when +we met downstairs after breakfast, with the family about. +I could scarcely say good morning to her, and I never dared +catch her eye. And all the time that one great subject was +burning in our minds. And we couldn't talk of it again, +either; we couldn't have if we'd been alone together in a +desert! You can't go on having scenes with people.<span class="pagenum">[361]</span></p> + +<p>"At last, after lunch, I was alone on the verandah with +her, and managed to screw myself up to asking her whether +she was going to New York or not.</p> + +<p>"'Yes, I'm going,' she answered.</p> + +<p>"'What do you mean by that?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, I don't know what I mean!' she said desperately. +I knew she was as badly off as I was, or worse, and after +that I simply couldn't say another word to her.</p> + +<p>"But I saw her alone once again, just before she started. +She kissed me good-by and smiled and whispered: 'Don't +worry, Aunt Selina—it's all right,' and then the others +came. Just that—nothing more!</p> + +<p>"I didn't know what to think—what I dared to think. +One moment I rushed and telegraphed you, because I was +afraid she was going to the Englishman, after all. The +next minute I was hurrying to catch the night boat to +Boston, because I thought she was going to you and that +I might have to deal with you. I wanted to be with her +in any case. Oh, I was so mad with the uncertainty and +suspense I didn't know what I did or what I thought! But +the impression I took away finally from her last words +to me were that she was going to you.... But I never +knew, James, <i>I never knew</i>! And now I never shall!..."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[362]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV2">CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p class="h3">A POTTER'S VESSEL</p> + +<p>By a great effort Aunt Selina had kept a firm control +over herself throughout her narrative, but now, the +immediate need of composure being removed, she gave way +completely to her natural grief. James, whose attitude +toward her had been somewhat as toward a divine visitation, +an emissary of Nemesis, suddenly found he had to +deal with an old woman suffering under an overwhelming +sorrow. This put an end for the present to the possibility +of expanding on the Nemesis suggestion. He fetched her +some more whisky, reflecting that it must be not unpleasant +to have reached the age where grief wore itself out +even partially in physical symptoms, to which physical +alleviations could be applied. For the first time he found +himself considering Aunt Selina as an old woman.</p> + +<p>He could not help remarking, however, that even in +age and even in grief Aunt Selina was rather magnificent. +There was about her tears a Sophoclean, almost a Niobesque +quality. It struck him that she must have been extremely +good-looking in her youth.</p> + +<p>Of course Aunt Selina, even in that extremity, knew +enough to refrain from pointing a moral already sufficiently +obvious. She said little after finishing her account, and +that little was expressive only of her immediate sense of +loss.</p> + +<p>"Oh, James," she moaned, "I had always thought my +life went out in a little puff of red flame forty years ago +and more, but it seemed to me that if I could use my experience +to mend her life I should be well repaid for everything. +And now...."</p> + +<p>They sat silent for the most part, both laboring under +the terrific hopelessness of the situation, which certainty +and uncertainty, together with the impossibility of action, +combined to make intolerable. For a while each found a +certain comfort in the other's mute presence, but at last +even that wore off.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, you don't want to be bothered by a<span class="pagenum">[363]</span> +hysterical old woman at this time," said Aunt Selina finally, +and James obediently telephoned, for a taxi. Nemesis must +be met, sooner or later....</p> + +<p>Only once, as they sat side by side in the dark cab, did +Aunt Selina give utterance to the one idea that animated +her thoughts of the future.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've lost my own life and I've lost her, and now +you're the only thing I have left. Oh, James, for Heaven's +sake don't let me lose you!"</p> + +<p>"No, Aunt Selina, no," he replied, laying his hand on +hers and speaking with a promptness and a fervor that +surprised himself.</p> + +<p>"One thing," she began just before they drew up at the +hotel.</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"One thing I've learned in all these years is that there's +nothing so bad that it isn't better to face it than dodge it. +Nothing!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James. "Thank you, Aunt Selina."</p> + +<p>He walked back to his apartment with a feeling as of +straightening his shoulders. His aunt's words rang in his +brain. There was need of courage, he saw that. Well, he +had never lacked that and would not be found wanting in it +now. Not even—the thought flashed on him as he opened +his front door—not even if the kind of courage that was +now needed implied humiliation. He entered his home +with the consciousness of having made a good start.</p> + +<p>He walked straight into the bedroom.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've done you an injustice," he said aloud. "I +misjudged you. I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you didn't give her credit for being capable of +loving YOU, did you?" rang a mocking voice in his brain. +A palpable hit for Nemesis.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know what I <i>mean</i>," he answered petulantly. +He thought it was unworthy of her to quibble thus, particularly +when he was voluntarily assuming that Beatrice +had started from Bar Harbor—well, with the right idea. +He had a right to doubt there, which he was willing to +waive.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," he repeated, "truly sorry. Isn't that +enough?" His eyes fell on the photograph of Beatrice +which still stood on the dressing table. He turned quickly +away again.<span class="pagenum">[364]</span></p> + +<p>"Not by a long shot," said Nemesis, or words to that +effect.</p> + +<p>No, somehow it wasn't. He realized it himself; even +feeling that didn't give him the sense of repletion and +calm that he sought. He paced the room for some time +in silent anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know what to do," he admitted at last. +"Suppose"—he was appealing to Beatrice now—"suppose +you tell me what."</p> + +<p>He glanced involuntarily at the photograph. Its unchanging +half-smile informed him that all help must now +come from himself. A sudden access of rage at that photograph +seized him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you laugh at me, when I'm trying my best!" he +cried.</p> + +<p>The picture smiled on. In a burst of fury James picked +up the frame and hurled it with all his strength into the +mirror. There was a crash and a shower of broken glass, +amid which the picture bounded lazily back and fell to the +floor, face downward.</p> + +<p>James stood and stared at it, and as he stared a curious +revulsion came over him. He stooped slowly down, unaccountably +hoping with all his soul that the photograph +was not hurt. He scarcely dared to turn it over....</p> + +<p>The glass was smashed to atoms, but the picture itself was +unhurt. No, there was a cut across the face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've hurt her, I've hurt Beatrice!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>Nemesis said something that made him sink into a chair +and gaze before him with horror. Cinders, ashes, black +coals, some of them still glowing—oh, the mere sight of +them then had been unbearable! And now, in view of +what he had learned.... He could not face the thought.</p> + +<p>Yet it was true: if it had not been for him Beatrice would +still be alive. Whether she took that train intending to +go to him or to Tommy it did not matter; she would not +have taken it at all if he had behaved as he should.</p> + +<p>He turned his attention back to the picture, gently and +carefully smoothing out the cut, as though in the hope +that reparation to her effigy would make it easier to face +the thought of having compassed her destruction.</p> + +<p>Somehow it did no such thing....</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Of course what Nemesis wanted was a confession that he<span class="pagenum">[365]</span> +loved the woman whose death he was morally responsible +for. James realized that himself, almost from the first, +but it was not in his nature to admit easily that such an +unreasonable change of feeling was possible to him. Long +hours of struggle followed, hours of endless pacing, of +fruitless internal argument, of blind resistance to the one +hope, as he in the bottom of his soul knew it was, of his +salvation. Resistance, brave, exhilarating, hopeless, futile, +ignoble resistance to whatever happened to him contrary +to the dictates of his own will—it was as inevitable to him +as feeling itself.</p> + +<p>From time to time he thought of Tommy, and this, if +he did but know it, was the best symptom he could have +shown. For though at first he thought of him with little +more than his usual contempt, envy soon began to creep in, +then frank jealousy and at last a blind hatred that made +him clench his hands and wish, as he had seldom wished +anything, that Tommy's throat was between them. In fact +he ended by hating Tommy quite as though he were his +equal. He never stopped to consider that this change was +no less revolutionary than the one he was fighting.</p> + +<p>The hopeless hours dragged on. A sense of physical +fatigue grew on him; every muscle in him ached. His +brain also staggered under the long strain; it hammered +and rang. Certain scraps of sentences he had heard during +the day buzzed through it with a curious insistence, taking +advantage of his weakened state to torment him. A great +chance, a great chance—Uncle James' parting words to +him. Sorrow was a great chance—for some. For Aunt +Selina, yes; for Beatrice, yes; or Uncle James, frozen and +unresponsive as he appeared, yes. But not for him. Oh, +no, he must admit it, he was not even worthy to suffer +greatly. He was not really suffering now, he supposed; +he was merely very tired. Otherwise those words, a great +chance, a great chance, would not keep pounding through +his head like the sound of loud wheels....</p> + +<p>Railroad wheels.</p> + +<p>Then what was it that Aunt Selina had said about finding +out something too late? Oh, yes, people found out +they loved other people when it was too late. Especially +strong people. He was strong.... Could it be that <i>he</i> +was going to discover something too late—<i>that</i>? It was too +late for something already, but surely not for that! Just<span class="pagenum">[366]</span> +think—Aunt Selina had found out too late, and Beatrice +had found out too late, and now....</p> + +<p>Yes, if it was horrible it must be true. It was he who +was too late. He understood about Aunt Selina, all she +must have felt. And Beatrice too; he saw now how strong +and noble and warm-hearted she had been, and how she +must have suffered. Especially that. And now he had +found out it was too late to tell her so!</p> + +<p>"We can't tell you what we don't know," the man in +the station had said that morning. Words spoken mechanically +and without thought, but containing the very essence +of human tragedy. While there was yet time he had +had no knowledge, not the slightest glimmering....</p> + +<p>"Oh, Beatrice!" he groaned, "if I had only been able +to hope! Just a little hope, even at that last minute on +the platform! That would be something to be thankful +for!"</p> + +<p>And then in the anguish of his remorse all his fatigue +and uncertainty suddenly fell from him. Nothing remained +but the thought of her, strong, generous, brave, +humble, all that he had professed to admire—dead! And +he, false, mean, cowardly, cold-hearted, alive. And the +idea of never being able to tell her that at last he understood +became so intolerable, so cruel, so contrary to all that +was good in life, so blindly unthinkable, that....</p> + +<p>Well, in a word, it simply ceased to be. Such a life as +had been hers could not fade into nothingness, such a heart +as hers could not fail to understand, be she dead or alive.</p> + +<p>"God," he whispered, clutching with all his strength at +the hope the word now contained, "God, make her understand! +I recant, I repent, I believe—anything! Forgive +me if you can or punish me as you will, only let her live, +let her know...."</p> + +<p>Then, as the crowning torment, came hope. After all, +he knew nothing; he only supposed. Nothing was certain; +only probable. Something might have happened; he dared +not think what or how, but it was possible, conceivable, at +least, that Beatrice was not on that train when it was +wrecked. Beatrice might still be alive!... The anguish +of the fall back into probability was sharper than anything +he had yet known, but every time he found himself struggling +painfully up again toward that small spark of light.</p> + +<p>He fell on his knees beside the bed—her bed—and tried<span class="pagenum">[367]</span> +to pray. Nothing came to his lips but the words he had so +long disdained to say, uttered now with a fierce sweet jubilation:</p> + +<p>"Beatrice, I love you. I never did before, but I do now—at +least I think I do! I never knew, I never understood, +but I do now! Beatrice, I do love you, I do, I do! Beatrice...."</p> + +<p>But apparently they satisfied the power that has charge +of such matters, for even as he stammered the words that +saved him a blessed drowsiness stole over him and before +long he slept as he knelt. It was morning when he awoke.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[368]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV2">CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p class="h3">THE TIDE TURNS</p> + +<p>A gray morning, wet and close, whose very atmosphere +was death to hope. James did hope, nevertheless, +with all the refreshed energy of his being. Hope came as +soon as he started to wake up, before he began to feel the +cramps in his limbs, before he had time to rub his eyes and +wonder what had happened.</p> + +<p>A hot bath, and then breakfast. Physical alleviations; +he was humiliated to realize they did make a difference, +even to him. He shuddered at the thought of how he had +patronizingly envied Aunt Selina for being helped by them +last night, much as he shuddered at the remembrance of +having once dared to pity Beatrice....</p> + +<p>But the present was also with him, and the present was +even harder to face than the past. Hope sprang eternal, +but so did certainty. One might have thought that they +would have neutralized each other's effects and left a blank, +but as a matter of fact they only doubled each other's torments. +The moment breakfast was over James started off +for the station to set one or the other at rest.</p> + +<p>He went straight to the press room, which was only just +open; he had to wait for the agent to arrive. When he +came he was able to tell James nothing new, but he conducted +him to a departmental manager. He was no more +satisfactory, but he undertook to make every possible inquiry. +Leaving James in an outer office he called various +people to him, got into telephonic communication with +others and ended by calling up Stamford and then Boston. +But James could guess the result from his face the moment +he reentered the room.</p> + +<p>"Nothing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. But don't give up yet."</p> + +<p>James walked slowly down the corridor toward the +elevator. It was a long corridor, dark and empty; James +could not see the end of it when he started. The sound of +his feet echoed hollowly along the dim walls. Altogether<span class="pagenum">[369]</span> +it was rather an eerie place, not at all suggestive of a +modern office building. Much more, it seemed to James as +he walked on, like life.... A blind alley, the end of which +was in shadow, where one must walk alone and in almost +total darkness. A place where one's footsteps echo with +painful exactness—one must walk carefully lest the sound +of their irregularity should ring evilly in one's ears and +pierce unharmoniously into those mysterious chambers +alongside, perhaps even into other corridors, other people's +corridors....</p> + +<p>He roused himself from his reverie with a jerk, but his +mood remained on him, translated into a larger meaning. +He was alive; no matter what had happened to Beatrice, he +was still alive, with a living person's duties and responsibilities—and +chances. Beatrice, even though cut off in +the bloom of her youth, had succeeded in making a person +of herself, justifying her existence, supplying a guiding +light to some of those who walked in greater darkness than +herself. He had not as yet done that. Well, he must. +He would. Beatrice's gift to him should not be wasted. +In a flash he felt his strength and his manhood return to +him. He looked into the future with a humble yet unflinching +gaze; hope and certainty had lost their terrors +for him. If Beatrice had died, he would thank God that +it had been given him to know her and do his best to translate +her spirit into earthly terms. If by any impossible +chance she still lived—well, he could do nothing to make +himself worthy of such happiness, but he would do his best.</p> + +<p>He walked out of the elevator into the concourse, the +huge unchanging concourse where so much had happened +yesterday. It was comparatively empty at this moment, +only a few figures waiting patiently before train gates. +One of these caught his eye; it took on a bafflingly familiar +appearance. He moved curiously nearer to it....</p> + +<p>Tommy!</p> + +<p>At last, at last, at last he was going to feel that throat +between his fingers, get a chance to exterminate that—that—He +sprang forward like a wildcat.</p> + +<p>He stopped before he had taken two steps, with a feeling +of impotence, hopelessness. Who was he, who under +the sun was he to teach Tommy anything? Tommy—why, +Tommy had loved Beatrice, not after it was too late, +but before! Beatrice had preferred Tommy to him.<span class="pagenum">[370]</span> +Tommy was a better man than he was; he took a morbid +joy in thinking how much better.</p> + +<p>It was conceivable that Tommy might know something. +Perhaps he had even come to this very spot to meet Beatrice.... +Well, he would not blame her or offer objections, +if it were so. He would accept such a judgment gladly, as +a small price for knowing she was alive. He hurried across +the concourse.</p> + +<p>"Tommy, can you tell me anything about Beatrice?" +James' voice was so matter-of-fact, so strikingly unfitted +to a Situation, that Tommy was rather irritated. He +flushed.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not. Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"I only thought—seeing you here—"</p> + +<p>"No." The tone was abrupt to the point of rudeness, +wholly un-Tommylike. There was an odd moment of +silence, which Tommy ended by breaking out: "Why the +devil do you have to come here and crow over me? Why +can't you let me clear out in peace?"</p> + +<p>James was so penitent for having hurt Tommy that he +did not at first notice the implication in his words.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry—I meant nothing! I've been out of my +head with anxiety.... I only thought she might have gone +somewhere else to meet you—it was my last hope...."</p> + +<p>"<i>What?</i>" Tommy cocked his eyebrows incredulously, +with a sort of fierceness. "Hope of what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that Beatrice was still alive."</p> + +<p>"Still alive? What on earth—! What makes you think +she isn't?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say—"</p> + +<p>Again the two stared at each other in a strained silence. +Then Tommy produced a crumpled yellow envelope from +his pocket and handed it to James.</p> + +<p>"I got this yesterday morning—that's all I know. I +haven't been able to destroy the damned thing...."</p> + +<p>James took it and opened it. A telegram:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>It's all off, Tommy. Please go away and forgive me if +you can. Beatrice.</p></blockquote> + +<p>He looked at the date at the top. Boston, 8:37 <span class="smcap">A. M.</span> +Boston! The Maine Special did not go into Boston; Beatrice +had left it before—before....<span class="pagenum">[371]</span></p> + +<p>"Tommy," he said faintly, "Tommy, I—" His head +swam; he felt himself reeling.</p> + +<p>"All right, old top, all right; easy does it." He felt +Tommy's arm about him and heard Tommy's voice in his +ears, the voice of the good-hearted Tommy of old. Suddenly +the idea of a disappointed lover calling his fainting +though successful rival old top and telling him that easy +did it struck him as wildly and irresistibly humorous. He +laughed, and the sound of his laugh acted like a stimulant. +He bit his lip hard.</p> + +<p>"All right now—I'll go up and get into a taxi. You +see," he began explanatorily to Tommy as he walked beside +him, "I thought—I thought—"</p> + +<p>"I see," supplied Tommy companionably, "you thought +she was in the accident, of course. Beastly thing, that accident; +no wonder it knocked you up. Knocked me up a +bit myself when I heard of it, although I knew she couldn't +be in it. Easy up the steps—righto! Everything turned +out all right in the end, though, didn't it? Pretty hefty +steps, wot? Pretty hefty place altogether—nothing like +it in London...."</p> + +<p>A cab puffed up beside them. James turned with his +hand on the door. An unaccountable wave of affection, +respect, even, for Tommy surged through him. "Tommy, +you're going away now, I take it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—Chicago." (He pronounced it <i>Shickago</i>. That +was nothing; when he arrived in the country he had pronounced +it with the ch sound. In a few more weeks he +would get it correctly; you couldn't expect too much at a +time from Tommy.)</p> + +<p>"Well, Tommy, see here—"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"It may sound silly to you, but—come and see us some +time!"</p> + +<p>"Righto. Not now, though—got to see the country—train +leaves in two minutes. See America first, wot? +Good-by!" and he was off.</p> + +<p>James sank back into the cab, admiring the other's tact. +A thoughtless, brutal proposal; of course he ought never +to have made it. It was not in him, though, to deny Tommy +any sign of the overwhelming love for the whole world that +filled him.</p> + +<p>When he reached his apartment his physical strength<span class="pagenum">[372]</span> +was restored, but mentally he seemed paralyzed. There +was much to be done, but he had no idea how to go about it. +A bright thought struck him; he called up Aunt Selina. +He laughed foolishly into the transmitter; Heaven knows +how he made her understand at last. The two babbled +incoherently at one another for a moment and abruptly +rang off, without saying good-by.... Another bright idea—Uncle +James. He was more definite, but James had little +idea of what he said. He caught something about a Comparatively +Simple Matter.... Uncle J. undertook to do +everything, whatever it was. A satisfactory person.</p> + +<p>After that James sat down in an armchair and for a +long time remained there, reduced to an inarticulate pulp +of joy.</p> + +<p>An hour or two later Beatrice's telegram arrived. It +was dated from an obscure place in the White Mountains. +"Quite safe and well; only just heard of the accident," it +read. Just ten words. But quite enough! To think of +her telegraphing <i>him</i>!...</p> + +<p>Immediately he became strong and efficient again. He +rushed back to the station, dashed off a telegram and caught +up a time table. Confound the trains—nothing till eight-fifteen!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>When she left Bar Harbor, Beatrice had no very clear +idea of what she was going to do. Of one thing she was +fairly sure; she was not going to Tommy. Where Aunt +Cecilia's tentative suggestions concerning the dangers besetting +a young wife had failed, Aunt Selina's uncompromising +realism had gone straight to the point. Her eyes +were opened; she saw what pitfalls infatuation and pique +and obstinacy might lead her into. She was willing to +admit that the thing she had planned to do would be +equivalent to throwing away her last hold on life—all she +read into the word life. No, she would not go to Tommy. +Not directly, anyway....</p> + +<p>Ah, there was the rub. Suppose her imagined scene of +confession and appeal turned into one of mutual recrimination +and resentment—the old sort. What was more +likely, in view of her past experience? Were things so +radically changed now that either she or James would be +able to understand the other better than before? With +the best intentions in the world she could not help rubbing<span class="pagenum">[373]</span> +him the wrong way, and she feared the anger and hopelessness +that it was his power to inspire in her. With +Tommy at hand, in the same town, could she trust herself +to resist the temptation of throwing herself into his ready +arms? It was all very well for Aunt Selina to say that +she was worth more to Beatrice than Tommy; Beatrice was +quite convinced of it, in the calm light of reason. But in +the hour of failure, with her pride and her woman's desire +for protection and love worked up to white heat, would she +still be convinced of it? Could she dare entrust her whole +chance of future happiness to the strength of her reason in +the moment of its greatest trial?</p> + +<p>Thoughts like these mingled with the rattle of the train +in a sleepless night. In the morning one thing emerged +into clarity; she must wait till Tommy was out of the way. +If her determination to try to regain James was worth anything, +she must give it every possible chance for success. +Her hopes for a happy issue out of her dreadful labyrinth +were not so good that she could afford to take one unnecessary +risk.</p> + +<p>Well, if she wasn't going to New York she would have to +get off the train, obviously. So she alighted outside Boston +early in the morning, took a local into town and telegraphed +Tommy. Then, as she wandered aimlessly through +the station her eye fell on a framed time-table in which +occurred the name of a small White Mountain resort of +which she had lately heard; a place described to her as remote +and quiet and possessed of one fairly good hotel. She +noticed that a train was due to leave for there in an hour's +time. In a moment her decision was made; she would go +up there and wait for Tommy to get safely out of the way, +carefully plan out her course of action and—she scarcely +dared express the thought, even mentally—give herself a +little time to enjoy her newly-awakened love before putting +it to the final test.</p> + +<p>She arrived in the evening, took a room in the hotel +and went to bed almost immediately, sleeping soundly for +the first time in weeks. About the middle of the next +morning the Boston papers arrived. Until then she had +no notion that the train she had traveled by had been +wrecked.</p> + +<p>She telegraphed immediately to Aunt Cecilia and then, +after some thought, to James. It seemed the thing to do,<span class="pagenum">[374]</span> +everything being considered. She wondered if he knew +she was safe, how he would take the news, if he had been +much disturbed by uncertainty. She was inclined to fear +that her escape had not done her cause any particular +good....</p> + +<p>His reply arrived surprisingly soon: "Stay where you +are, am coming." She was touched. Apparently the turn +of events had had a favorable effect on him; if he cared +enough now to come up and see her the opportunity for +putting her plea to him must be fairly propitious. There +was a fair chance that if she acted wisely all would turn +out well. But oh, she must be careful!</p> + +<p>She knew he must arrive by the morning train and arose +betimes so as to be on hand. She was in some doubt about +breakfast, whether to get it early or wait for him. Either +way might be better or worse; it all depended on the outcome +of their meeting. She ended by deciding to wait; +she would let him breakfast alone if—if. Small interest +she would have in breakfast in that event.</p> + +<p>She was downstairs long before the train was due to +arrive. The weather had cleared during the night and the +morning was sunny and cool, a true autumn day. She +tried waiting on the verandah, but the wind was so sharp +that she soon returned to the warm lobby. She could +watch the road equally well from the front windows; there +was a long open ascent from the station. At last she saw +the hotel wagon appear round a curve. There was only +one passenger in it. He, of course. She could recognize +the set of his head and shoulders even at that distance. +She hoped he had a warm enough overcoat.</p> + +<p>The wagon reached the steepest part of the incline, and +he was out, walking briskly along beside it. Before it, +very soon; he went so much faster. How like James, and +how unnecessary! He the only passenger, and what were +horses made for, anyway? Still perhaps it was better, if +he were not warmly dressed....</p> + +<p>The ascent grew steeper before him and his pace visibly +decreased. But the wagon merely crawled, far behind +him! He was a furious walker. That hill was enough to +phase any one....</p> + +<p>Presently the sight of him plodding painfully up toward +her while she waited calmly at the top grew perfectly intolerable. +She could bear it no longer; hatless and coatless<span class="pagenum">[375]</span> +she rushed out of the hotel and down the road toward him. +After a while he raised his face and their eyes met. Nearer +and nearer they came, gazing fixedly into each other's eyes +and discovering new things there, new lives, new +worlds....</p> + +<p>They did not even kiss. She, looking beyond him, saw +the driver of the station wagon peering up at them, and +he caught sight over her shoulder of the staring windows +of the hotel. They stopped with some embarrassment and +immediately began walking up together.</p> + +<p>"It's nice to see you, James; did you have a good journey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very, thanks. You comfortable here?"</p> + +<p>On they walked, in silence. Gradually their embarrassment +left them and gave place to a sort of awe. Something +was going to happen, something great and wonderful; +they no longer doubted it nor felt any fear. But—all +in good time!</p> + +<p>It must be coming soon, though, to judge by the way it +kept pressing down on them. Good time? Heavens, there +never was any time but the present moment, never would +be any....</p> + +<p>"Beatrice," said James, staring hard at the ground in +front of him, "I know now how wicked I've been. Do you +think you can ever forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, James," said Beatrice gently, "dear James, +there's nothing to forgive."</p> + +<p>Then he looked up and saw there were tears on her +cheeks....</p> + +<p>Yes, right there in the open road!</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> + +<span class="pagenum">[376]</span> + +<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI2">CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p class="h3">REINSTATEMENT OF A SCHÖNE SEELE</p> + +<p>The sunlight of a golden October afternoon poured +down on a little brick terrace running along one side +of the farmhouse in the Berkshires Harry had bought and +reformed into a summer house. It was not the principal +open-air extension of the place; the official verandah was +on the other side, commanding a wide view to the east and +south. This was just a little private terrace, designed especially +for use on afternoons like the present, when for +the moment autumn went back on all its promises and in a +moment of carelessness poured over a dying landscape the +breath of May. The only view to be had from it was up +a grassy slope to the west, on the summit of which, according +to all standards except those of the New England +farmer of one hundred years ago, the house ought to have +been built. Not that either Madge or Harry cared particularly. +They were fond of pointing out that Tom Ball, +or West Stockbridge Mountain, or whatever it was, shut +out the view to the west anyway, and that they were lucky +enough to find a farmhouse with any view from it at all.</p> + +<p>On the terrace sat James and Beatrice, who were spending +a week-end with their relatives. Madge was with them. +Presumably there was current in her mind a polite fiction +that she was entertaining her guests, but she did not take +her duties of hostess-ship too seriously. It was not even +necessary to keep up a conversation; they all got along far +too well together for that. They simply sat and enjoyed +the fleeting sunshine, making pleasant and unnecessary +remarks whenever they felt moved to do so. Probably they +also thought, from time to time. Of the general extraordinariness +of things, and so forth. If they all spent a little +time in admiring the adroitness with which the hands of +fate had shuffled them, with the absent member of the pack, +into their present satisfactory positions, we should not be +at all surprised. But of course none of them made any +allusion to it.</p> + +<p>Harry suddenly burst through the glass door leading<span class="pagenum">[377]</span> +from the house and flopped into a chair. His appearance +was informal. The others turned toward him with curious +nostrils.</p> + +<p>"I know, I know," he sighed. "The only thing is for +us all to smoke. You too, Beatrice. Because if you don't +you'll smell me, and if you smell me I'll have to go up and +wash, and if I go up and wash now I shall miss this last +hour of sunshine and that will make you all very, very +unhappy."</p> + +<p>"I am smoking," said Beatrice calmly, "because I want +to, and for no other reason."</p> + +<p>"And I," observed Madge, "because Harry doesn't want +me to."</p> + +<p>"If you want to know what I've been doing since +lunch," said Harry, disregarding the insult, "I don't mind +telling you that I've mended a wire fence, covered the asparagus +bed, conducted several successful bonfires and +filled all the grease-cups on the Ford. I have also +turned—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James, "we've guessed that."</p> + +<p>"And now only a few trifles such as feeding fowls and +swine—or as Madge prefers to put it, chickabiddies and +piggywigs—stand between me and a well-deserved repose. +Heavens! I don't see how farmers can keep such late +hours. Harker, I believe, frequently stays up till nearly +nine. I feel as if it ought to be midnight now; nothing +but the thought of the piggywigs keeps me out of bed."</p> + +<p>"Can't Harker feed the piggywigs?" inquired Beatrice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Madge, "just as he can do all the other +things Harry does a great deal better than he. But it +keeps him busy and happy, so we let him go on."</p> + +<p>"Just as if you didn't cry every night to feed your old +pigs!" retorted her husband.</p> + +<p>Madge laughed. "Yes, I am rather a fool about the poor +things, even if they aren't so attractive as they were in +June. You should have seen them, so pink and tiny and +sweet, standing up on their hind legs and wiggling their +noses at you! No one could help wanting to feed them, +they were so helpless and confident of receiving a shower +of manna from above. I know just how the Almighty felt +when he fed the Israelites."</p> + +<p>"Better manna than manners," murmured Harry, and +for a while there was a profound silence.<span class="pagenum">[378]</span></p> + +<p>"What about a stroll before tea?" presently suggested +the happy farmer.</p> + +<p>"I should like to," said James. "We'll have to make +it short, though."</p> + +<p>"Very well. What about the others—the fair swine-herd?"</p> + +<p>"I think not," answered the person referred to, smiling +up at him. "I took quite a long walk before lunch, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Harry, blushing for no apparent reason. +"Beatrice?"</p> + +<p>Beatrice preferred to stay with Madge.</p> + +<p>"You see," said Harry when the two had gone a little +way; "you see, the fact is, Madge—hm. Madge—"</p> + +<p>"You mean," said James, smiling, "there is hope of a +new generation of our illustrious house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! I only learned this morning. If it's a boy +we're going to call it James, and if it's a girl we're going +to call it Jaqueline."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," mused James, "how many times you have +named it since you first heard."</p> + +<p>"There have been several suggestions," admitted Harry, +laughing. "I really think it will end by that, though."</p> + +<p>"Jaqueline—quite a pretty name. Much prettier than +James—I rather hope it will be a girl."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do too," said Harry. And both knew that they +would not have troubled to express that wish if they had +not really hoped the direct opposite....</p> + +<p>They walked slowly up the hill and presently turned +and stopped to admire the view that the foolish prudence +of a dead farmer had prevented them from enjoying from +the house. It was a very lovely view, with its tumbled +stretches of hills and fields and occasional sheets of blue +water bathed in the mellow light of the sun that hung low +over the dark mountain wall to the west. Possibly it was +its sheer beauty, or the impression it gave of distance from +human strife and sordidness, or perhaps the subject last +mentioned imparted to their thoughts and impulse away +from the trivial and familiar; at any rate when Harry next +spoke his words fell neither on James' ears nor his own +with the sound of fatuity that they might have held at another +time.</p> + +<p>"James," he said, "we're getting on, aren't we? I<span class="pagenum">[379]</span> +don't mean in years, though that's a most extraordinary +feeling in itself, but in—in life, in the business of living. +If you ask me what I mean by that high-sounding phrase +I can only say it's something like coming out of every +experience a little better qualified to meet whatever new +experience lies in store for you. Of course we've heard +about life being a game and all that facile rot ever since +we were old enough to speak, but it's quite different when +you come to <i>feel</i> it. It's a sensation all by itself, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>James drew a deep breath. "Yes, it is quite by itself," +he agreed. "And I'm glad to be able to say that at last +I have some idea of what the actual feeling is like. It was +atrophied long enough in me, Heaven knows! It's still +very slight, very timid and tentative; just a sort of glimmering +at times—"</p> + +<p>"That's all it ever is," said Harry. "Just an occasional +glimmering. The true feeling, that is. If it's anything +more, it isn't really that at all, but just a sort of stuckupness, +an idea that I am equal to the worst life can do +to Me! I know people that seem to have that attitude—insufferable! +Only life is pretty apt to punish them by +giving them a great deal more than they bargained for."</p> + +<p>James was silent a moment, as with a sort of confessional +silence. But he knew Harry would not understand its +confessional quality, so he said quietly: "That's exactly +what happened to me, of course."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot! Did you think I meant you?"</p> + +<p>"No, but it's true, for all that. Thank Heaven I have +been permitted to live through it!... The truth is, I suppose, +I was too successful early in life. In school, in college +and afterward it was always the same—I found myself +able to do certain things with an ease that surprised +and delighted people—no one more than myself. For they +weren't things that mattered especially, you see; they were +showy, spectacular things that appealed to the public eye, +like playing football. I was a good physical specimen, not +through any effort or merit of my own, but simply through +a natural gift, and a very poor and hollow gift it is, as +I've found out. I don't think people quite realize the problem +that a man of the athletic type has to face if he's going +to make anything out of himself but an athlete. From +early boyhood he's conscious of physical superiority; he +knows perfectly well that in the last resort he can knock the<span class="pagenum">[380]</span> +other fellow down and stamp on him, and that gives him a +certain feeling of repose and self-sufficiency that's very +pernicious. It usually passes for strength of character, +but it's nothing in the world but faith in bone and muscle. +And people do worship physical strength so! It's small +wonder a man gets his head turned.... Good Lord, the +ideas I used to have about myself! Why, in college, if +any one had made me say what, in the bottom of my heart, +I thought was the greatest possible thing for a man of my +years to be, I should have said being a great football player +in a great university. That is, I wouldn't have said it, because +that would have been like bragging, and it isn't done +to brag: but that would have been my secret thought.</p> + +<p>"And then, if the man has any brains or any capacity +for feeling, he runs up against some of the big forces of +life, and he finds his physical strength no more use to him +than a broken reed. It's quite a shock! I've been more +severely tried than most people are, I imagine, but Heaven +knows I needed it! Everything had gone my way before +that; I literally never knew what it was to have to put up +a fight against something I recognized as stronger than I +and likely to beat me in the end. Well, I'm grateful +enough for it now. Thank Heaven for it! Thank Heaven +for letting me fight and find out my weakness and come +through it somehow, instead of remaining a mere mountain +of beef all my days!"</p> + +<p>Both stood silent for a moment after James had ended +this confession, less because they felt embarrassment in the +presence of the feeling that lay behind it than because for +a short time the past lay on them too heavily for words. +After a few seconds they moved as though by a common +impulse and walked slowly along the grassy crest of the +ridge, and Harry began again.</p> + +<p>"What you say sounds very well coming from you, +James, but I have reason to believe that very little, if any +of it, is true. It was my privilege to know you during the +years you speak of, and I seem to remember you as something +more than a mountain of beef. Don't be absurd, +James!"</p> + +<p>He paused a moment and then went on more seriously: +"No, James; if there was ever any danger of any of us +suffering from cock-sureness it's I, at this moment. Do +you realize how ridiculously happy I've been for the last<span class="pagenum">[381]</span> +year or so? This success of mine—oh, I've worked, but +it's been absurdly easy, for all that—and Madge, and +everything—it seems sometimes as if there was something +strange and sinister about it. It simply can't be good for +any one to be so happy! It worries me."</p> + +<p>"Well, as long as it does, you needn't," said James.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see! That makes it quite simple, of course!"</p> + +<p>"What I mean," elucidated James, "is that, if you feel +that way about it, it's probable that you really deserve +what happiness you have. After all, you know, you have +paid for some. You have had your times; I don't mind +admitting that there have been moments when you weren't +quite the archangel which of course you are at present!"</p> + +<p>Harry laughed. "The prophet Jeremiah once said something +about its being good for a man that he should bear +the yoke in his youth. If that is equivalent to saying that +the earlier a man has his bad times the better, it may be +that I got off more easily by having them in college than +if they'd held off till later. One does learn certain things +easier if one learns them early. But that doesn't mean +that your youth has passed without your feeling the yoke, +or that your youth has passed yet. You're still in the +Jeremiah class! One would hardly say that at thirty—you're +not much over thirty, are you?"</p> + +<p>"A few weeks under, I believe."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry!—Well, at thirty there are surely years of +youth ahead of you, which you, having borne your yoke, +may look forward to without fear and with every prospect +of enjoying to the fullest extent. Whereas I—well, there's +even more time for me to bear yokes in, if necessary. I +don't much believe that Jeremiah has done with me yet, +somehow!"</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid of the future, though, are you?" +asked James after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—that would never do. I feel about it as.... +One can't say these things without sounding cocksure and +insufferable!"</p> + +<p>"You mean you'll do your best under the circumstances?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, or make a good try at it! And then.... Of +course I can't be as happy as I am without having a good +deal at stake; I've given hostages to fortune—that's Francis +Bacon, not me. And if fortune should look upon those<span class="pagenum">[382]</span> +hostages with a covetous eye—if anything, for instance, +should happen to Madge in what's coming, why, there are +still plenty of things that the worst fortune can't spoil!... +Well, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James; "I know."</p> + +<p>"In fact, there are certain things in the past so dear +to me that perhaps, if it came to the point, it would be almost +a joy to pay heavily for them. But that's only the +way I feel about it now, of course. It's easy enough to +be brave when there's no danger."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James, "but I think you're right in the +main. After all, the past is one's own—inalienably, forever! +While the future is any man's....</p> + +<p>"Of course you know," he went on after a pause, "that +my past would have been nothing at all to me without you. +It sounds funny, but it's true."</p> + +<p>"Funny is the word," said Harry.</p> + +<p>"But perfectly true. I should never have come through—all +this business if it hadn't been for you."</p> + +<p>"Look here, James, you're not going to thank me for +saving your soul, are you? That would be a little forced!"</p> + +<p>"My dear man, I'm not thanking you, I'm telling you! +You were the one good thing I held on to; I was false and +wicked in about every way I could be, but I did always +try, in a sort of blind and blundering way, to be true to +you. You've been—unconsciously if you will have it so—the +best influence of my life, and I thought it might be +well to tell you, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't pretend I'm not glad to hear it," said +Harry soberly. "It is rather remarkable when you come +to think of it," he went on after a moment, "how our lives +have been bound up together. It's rather unusual with +brothers, I imagine. Generally they see a good deal too +much of each other during their early years and when they +grow up they settle down into an acquaintanceship of a +more or less cordial nature. But with us it's been different. +Being apart during those early years, I suppose, +made it necessary for us to rediscover each other when we +grew up...."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said James, "and the process of rediscovering +had some rather lively passages in it, if I remember right."</p> + +<p>"It did! But it was a good thing; it gave us a new +interest in each other. One reason why people are commonly<span class="pagenum">[383]</span> +so much more enthusiastic about their friends than +about their relations is because their relations are an accident, +but their friends are a credit to them. It just +shows what a selfish thing human nature is, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I see; a new way of being a credit to ourselves. Well, +most of it's on my side, I imagine."</p> + +<p>Harry turned gravely toward his brother. "It seems +to me, James, you suffer under a tendency to overestimate +my virtues. You mustn't, you know; it's extremely +bad for me. I should say, if questioned closely, that that +was your one fault—if one expects a kindred tendency to +shield me from things I ought not to be shielded from."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rot, man!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't talk—you do. I've felt it, all along, +though you've done your job so well that for the most +part I never knew what you'd saved me from."</p> + +<p>"Well.... I might go so far as to say that when I've +put you before myself I generally find I'm all right, and +when I put myself first I generally find I'm all wrong. +But as I've been all wrong most of the time, it doesn't +signify much!"</p> + +<p>"Hm. You put it so that I can't insist very hard. It's +there, though, for all that. Funny thing. I don't believe +it's a bit usual between friends, really, especially between +brothers. Whatever started you on it? It must have been +more or less conscious."</p> + +<p>For a moment James thought of telling him. They had +lived so long since then; it would be amusing for them to +trace together the effects of that one little guiding idea. +But he thought of the years ahead, and they seemed to call +out to him with warning voices, voices full of a tale of tasks +unfinished and the need of a vigilance sharper than before. +So he only laughed a little and said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you that are exaggerating now! You mustn't +get ideas about it; it's no more than you'd do for me, or +any one for any one else he cares about. But little as it +is, don't grudge it to me, for though it may not have done +you much good, it's been the saving of me...."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>So they walked and talked as the sun sank low and the +night fell gently from a cloudless sky. To Madge and +Beatrice, seeing them silhouetted against that final blaze +of glory in the west, they seemed almost as one figure.</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Whirligig of Time, by Wayland Wells Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME *** + +***** This file should be named 37906-h.htm or 37906-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/0/37906/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Matthew Wheaton and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/37906-h/images/illus-emb.jpg b/37906-h/images/illus-emb.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..90ff1f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/37906-h/images/illus-emb.jpg diff --git a/37906-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg b/37906-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..245fb89 --- /dev/null +++ b/37906-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg |
