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diff --git a/37906.txt b/37906.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..baa425e --- /dev/null +++ b/37906.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16445 @@ +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: ASCII + +*** 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 + + + + + + + +THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME [Illustration: "'JAMES DID IT! JAMES HAS MADE A +TOUCHDOWN'"] + + + + + THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME + + BY + + WAYLAND WELLS WILLIAMS + + + _WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY J. HENRY_ + + "_And thus the whirligig of Time brings in his + revenges._"--Twelfth Night. + + + NEW YORK + + FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + + PUBLISHERS + + +_Copyright, 1916, by_ +FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY + +_All rights reserved, including that of translation +into foreign languages._ + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PART I + + CHAPTER + + I UNWRITTEN PAPERS + II AUNTS + III NOT COLONIAL; GEORGIAN + IV PUPPY DOGS, AND A PSYCHOLOGICAL FACT + V BABES IN THE WOOD + VI ARCADIA AND YANKEEDOM + VII OMNE IGNOTUM + VIII LIVY AND VICTOR HUGO + IX A LONG CHEER FOR WIMBOURNE + X RUMBLINGS + XI AUNT SELINA'S BEAUX YEUX + XII AN ACT OF GOD + XIII SARDOU + XIV UN-ANGLO-SAXON + XV CHIEFLY CARDIAC + XVI THE SADDEST TALE + + PART II + + I CAN LOVE BE CONTROLLED BY ADVICE? + II CONGREVE + III NOT TRIASSIC, CERTAINLY, BUT NEARLY AS OLD + IV WILD HORSES AND CHAMPAGNE + V A SCHOeNE SEELE ON PISGAH + VI A LONG CHAPTER. BUT THEN, LOVE IS LONG + VII A VERY SHORT CHAPTER, IN ONE SENSE + VIII ONE THING AND ANOTHER + IX LABYRINTHS + X MR. AND MRS. ALFRED LAMMLE + XI HESITANCIES AND TEARS + XII A ROD OF IRON + XIII RED FLAME + XIV A POTTER'S VESSEL + XV THE TIDE TURNS + XVI REINSTATEMENT OF A SCHOeNE SEELE + + + + +THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +UNWRITTEN PAPERS + + +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. + +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. "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. + +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. + +At length James broke the silence. "It's come," he said. + +"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. + +"Oh, hours," said James. + +"Since before--" + +"Yes." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"Are you both awake, boys?" she asked. + +They both said they were, and Miss Garver, after pausing a moment, as if +to choose her words, said: + +"Then get up and put on something, and come into your mother's room with +me." + +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. + +"Your mother is very ill, boys. We are afraid--this may be the last time +you will see her." + +Dazed and silent they followed her into the hall. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"You may kiss her, if you like," he said softly. + +The boys leaned down in turn and silently touched the calm lips. It was +almost more than Harry could stand. + +"Oh, must this be the last time?" he heard himself shrieking. But no one +paid any attention to him, and 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'. + +The doctor and Miss Garver were whispering together. + +"Shall I take them away now?" she asked. + +"Not yet," was the answer; "there is just a chance that--" + +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. + +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. + +"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 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?-- + + Oh, no more, no more; too late + Sighs are spent; the burning tapers + Of a life as chaste as fate, + Pure as are unwritten papers, + Are burnt out-- + +"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?" + +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. + +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 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. + +The nurse glanced inquiringly toward the doctor, who nodded, and she +went over and touched Harry lightly on the shoulder. + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"Yes," whispered James. + +His mother sighed gently, as though with relief. "Now 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. + +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. + +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. + +The man in the chair never moved. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +AUNTS + + +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. + +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. + +"About ten o'clock," was the reply. + +"Ten o'clock! Why, we're an hour late for school already." + +"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. + +"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." + +"Why are you going to take us down town?" asked James. + +"To get some clothes." + +"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. + +"Come on, Harry," he said gently; "I'm nearly ready." + +"No," moaned Harry. + +"Yes. It's got to be done, you know." + +"Oh, go away and leave me alone." + +James bent his head down close to that of his brother. "You feel better +when you're doing something," he said softly. + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +The interview closed almost as soon as they entered, and their father +called them over to him. + +"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 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." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +Presently he raised his miserable eyes to hers. "It's Harry, +too--partly--" he said, and could go no further. + +"Yes, I know that too," said his aunt. "You mean that you have to bear +up on Harry's account--" + +"Yes!" + +"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 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!" + +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. + +"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." + +To James she said aloud, as soon as she could control her voice: + +"I am a foolish and indiscreet old woman, James--" + +"No, you're not," interrupts the boy with sudden spirit. + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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." + +"I see. But suppose you can't tell which is the right thing and which +the wrong one?" + +"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." + +"Well, thank you, Aunt Selina. What you have told me helps, an awful +lot. Really!" + +"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. + +"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. + +"I've been asking myself that question pretty steadily for the last +twelve hours," answered Mrs. James. "I wish _I_ could take them," she +added, impulsively. + +"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. + +"Unfortunately," went on Mrs. James, after a brief pause, "the whole +thing depends entirely upon Hilary." + +"The very last person--" + +"Exactly. Yet what can one do?" + +"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 _status quo_ as far as possible. What do +you think?" + +"I am almost sure of it. But...." + +"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." + +"Harry not for three, I should say.... That is, _I_ shouldn't." + +Silence for a moment, then Aunt Selina: + +"Well, can you think of any one that could be got to come here?" + +Mrs. James fluttered for a moment, as though preparing for a delicate +and difficult advance. + +"I wonder," she said, "that is, the thought struck me to-day--if you--if +_you_ could ever--" + +"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--" + +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: + +"What do you think of Agatha Fraile?" + +"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...." + +"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: + +"You mean--how much does she know about--?" + +"About Hilary, yes." + +"I rather think, myself, she must have found out through Edith.... I +don't see how she could have failed to know. Do you?" + +"I can't say, I'm sure. Edith had rather curious ideas, though she was +one of the best women that ever lived. However, that is not the main +point for consideration now. What I want to know is, can you think of +anything better?" + +"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!" + +"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?" + +"I don't know," faltered Mrs. James, rather bewildered by the other's +swiftness of reasoning. + +"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...." + +"Yes, of course," murmurs Mrs. James. + +"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 _something_. Living +here alone, with their father...." + +"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. + + * * * * * + +A few days after the funeral, after they had gone to bed of an evening, +Harry through the darkness apostrophized his brother thus: + +"I tell you, James, Aunt Selina is all right; did you know it?" + +"Oh," was the reply, "she gave you five dollars, too, did she?" + +"Yes, but that's not what I mean. She's given me five dollars plenty of +times before this." + +"Well, what do you mean, then?" + +"Well, she found me in the garden one morning.... Tuesday, I guess--" +Tuesday had been the day of the 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...." + +"What did she say to you?" This question was not prompted by vulgar +curiosity; James knew that his brother wished to be pumped. + +"Oh, she didn't _say_ 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 _missed_ 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." + +"Oh." + +"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." + +"Well, don't, if you don't want to." + +"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, ..." + +"Yes, I see." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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. + +"I wish I could be like Aunt Selina," he thought. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +NOT COLONIAL; GEORGIAN + + +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." + +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. + +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 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. + +"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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 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 _insouciance_ 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. + +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 role of Henrietta +Maria, would reflect that if _she_ 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. + +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. + +"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." + +"She let concealment," said Hilary from behind a magazine, "like a worm +i' the bud, feed--what did concealment feed on, James?" + +"Feed on her damask--" + +"Tablecloth!" shouts Harry, brilliantly but indiscreetly. + +"Oh, shut up," retorts his brother, peevishly, as who would not, at +having the words snatched from his mouth? "You needn't be so smart, I +was going to say that anyway." + +"The heck you were!" + +"Yes, I was." + +"You were not! You were going to say 'cheek'; I saw you start to say +it." + +"Oh, shut up! Can't any one be bright but you?" + +"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. + +"What?" Hilary had long since returned to his magazine. + +"Say 'cheek.' Wasn't he going to?" + +"Who?" + +"James, of course." + +"I trust not. It seems to me that it is one of the slang words your +mother has requested you not to use." + +"Wha--what is?" + +"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. + +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. + +"Where's Mama?" he inquired breathlessly, ending up in the library and +finding his father alone there. + +"Out, I think. What's the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing.... A kid licked me.... I wanted something for this +finger." + +"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 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. + +"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." + +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. + + They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld + Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, + Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate + With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. + Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; + The world was all before them, where to choose + Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. + They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, + Through Eden took their solitary way. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. 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. + +The next morning James, according to custom, approaching the completion +of his dressing some time before Harry, remarked in a casual tone: + +"Oh, you can have that purple tie, if you want. I'd just as lief take +the green one." + +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. + +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 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. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PUPPY DOGS, AND A PSYCHOLOGICAL FACT + + +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. + +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. + +"Miss Fraile," she said, on the first occasion for speech 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?" + +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. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"I do not know.... I daresay...." + +"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--" + +"How much more would you need?" asked Aunt Selina bluntly. + +Miss Fraile named a sum half as large again as the one previously +mentioned, but Aunt Selina, stifling a gasp, clinched the matter there. + +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-a-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. + +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. + +"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." + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +Harry thought it needless to reply to this, as the facts spoke for +themselves, and merely walked on, hugging and kissing his prize. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +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: + +"What are you going to do with it, anyway?" + +"Take it home, I suppose." + +"What'll you do with it there? Keep him in the house?" + +"No. That is, I suppose Father wouldn't hear of it." + +"I suppose not A puppy...! There are three dogs in the house anyway." + +"What about the stable, then?" + +"I don't know. There's Thomas." Thomas was the coachman, who made no +secret of his dislike for dogs "under the horses' hoofs." + +"Yes," said Harry, "and Spark, too. Spark would try to bite him, I'm +afraid." + +"What are you going to do with him, then?" + +"I don't know; what shall we?" + +"It's for you to say--he's your dog." + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Thank you, James," he said at length in a low voice, and blushed to the +roots of his hair. + +"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? + +And yet, most of the things that Harry did worked out wrong, somehow, +even when they were prompted by the best of motives. + +"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 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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +When the fatal morning came the brothers parted with complete cordiality +and every outward expression of mutual contempt. + +"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." + +"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!" + +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. + + St. Barnabas' School. + October 5. + + Dear Harry: + + 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! + +"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. + +"Gracious, dear," murmured Aunt Agatha, and smiled. + +"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. + +"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: + + 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! + + 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. + + I must stop now, so good-night. + + Your affectionate brother, + JAMES. + +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, +_imprimis_, 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 regime. 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. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +BABES IN THE WOOD + + +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. + +"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 _fidus Achates_; a sort of vice-James.) + +"You will not, I fear," returned Hilary briefly. "I'm going out of town +for the day." + +"What, not in the car?" + +"In the car." + +"_All_ day?" + +"All day. Leaving now, as soon as ever the car comes round, and not +getting back till late--perhaps not to-night." + +"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." + +"Sorry. Next week, perhaps." + +"Where are you going, anyway, Father?" + +"My business." + +"Going to take Graves?" + +"No." + +"What, all alone? You'll be lonely. Why don't you take Aunt Agatha?" + +"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." + +But Harry was far too elated by the news to pay much heed to the rebuke. +He became inarticulate with delight, and his father went calmly on with +his preparations for departure. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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.... + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Come here and sit down by me, Harry," she said gently, but Harry, who +was standing at one of the front windows, listlessly replied: + +"Wait, there's something coming up the street." + +"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. + +"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?..." + +The next moment his own eyes answered the question, and with a little +cry he toppled backward into her arms. + +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, to whom +Aunt Agatha had telegraphed the night before. + +"I suppose I'd better go home," was his first comment. + +"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?" + +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. + +"I am sure he would," said the headmaster, who understood, perfectly. "I +will send for him now and ask him." + +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. + +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. + +"You're a dear good boy," she said softly, as she did it; "thank you, +again and again, for what you've done." + +James, who was a witness to this episode, nearly sank through the floor +with shame. That a relative of his should kiss--actually, _kiss_ +Marston--! He felt like throwing himself on the ground and imploring +Marston's pardon, dedicating himself to his service for life as an +expiation. + +Yet Marston only blushed and laughed a little and said he had done +nothing, and bade good-by to James with unimpaired cordiality. + +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 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. + +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. + +"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 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...." + +"Well?" said James at length. + +"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." + +"I do, as a matter of fact. You and I, jointly. That's the one thing I +do know, for sure." + +"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." + +"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. + +"Well, what's to be done?" Lady Fletcher exhibited, to James' trained +eye, preliminary symptoms of a "practical" seizure. + +"Can't tell anything for certain, till we see the will. I shall see +Raynham in the morning." + +"Yes, but haven't you any idea ..." + +"Oh, none! You were not a witness, were you?... if that's any comfort to +you." + +"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?" + +"Well, there are several possibilities. First, there's their aunt...." + +"Oh, the Fraile woman? I've never met her. Isn't she ... well, a +trifle...." + +"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." + +"Oh, really? I didn't realize." + +"No," continued James, raising his eyes to his sister's and smiling +slightly, "what it will come to will be that I shall have six children +instead of four. Or rather, seven instead of five." + +"Oh, really?" This in a changed tone from the lady. + +"Yes, hasn't she told you? April." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"Oh, undoubtedly. Though I don't know just how." + +"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." + +"That's all very true, perhaps, but--" + +"And remember this; it's not as if you didn't have four--five already, +and I none." + +"What _are_ you driving at, Miriam?" + +"Don't you see? I want to take one, or both of them, myself." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"I should be against James leaving the country, myself. He is safely +started in his school; doing well there; striking his _milieu_. Why +disturb him?" + +"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...." + +"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?" + +"Serious? Certainly!" + +"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?" + +"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...." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"That's all very fine, Miriam, but we mustn't leave Harry 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?" + +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?" + +"Something very like it--yes." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Conditionally, yes--that is, if all parties seem agreeable. The one +thing I won't stand for is--well, Babes in the Wood business." + +"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. + +"I think it would be fine," was his reply, and then after a pause: "For +how long, though?" + +This was going nearer to the heart of the matter than the lady cared to +penetrate, so she merely answered: + +"Oh, one can't tell; a few months; perhaps more, if he 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?" + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +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 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--! + +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: + +"Who is Marcelline Lefebre, Aunt Cecilia?" + +Mrs. James stifled a gasp, and waited before replying till she was sure +of her voice. + +"Why? How did you ever hear of her?" she said. + +"Oh, in this. There's a lot more about it to-day. She was badly hurt, +wasn't she?" + +Mrs. James looked up and saw the newspaper lying open on the desk in +front of which James was sitting. + +"Oh, yes.... An actress, I think." + +"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. + +"Had you ever heard of her before?" + +"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?" + +"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: + +"Tell me, James, does Harry know anything about Mme. Lefebre?" + +"Not that I know of; not unless he heard of her ... before." + +"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." + +"All right. Why, though--particularly?" + +"Never mind about that. At least," she caught herself up, realizing, +perhaps, that this was treating him too much _en enfant_; "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." + +"I see," said James, quietly, staring out of the window. He saw far too +well, poor boy, was Aunt Cecilia's thought. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Fudge," said James calmly; "you'll be homesick as a cat before you've +been there a week." + +"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 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." + +"Bet you don't even know when that was. What's the use in having that +kind of place for a school, anyway?" + +"St. Barnabas," replied Harry with hauteur, "was built in the reign of +Queen Victoria." + +"Queen nothing! Gosh, if you talk rot like this now, what'll you be when +you've been over there a while?" + +"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'. + +"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!" + +"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?" + +"Yes, you might, mightn't you?" James was laughing now. "Nothing more +likely, I should think. Lord Harry, Earl Harry!" + +Harry replied in kind, and hostilities ensued. + +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. + +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 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 _Persia_ 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. + +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. + +"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. + +"Oh, nothing; merely what a difference it makes, being out on the open +sea." + +"Yes, doesn't it?... Harry will--" + +"Harry will what?" + +"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, 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: + +"Miriam, Harry has got to be made to wear woolen stockings in the +winter, no matter what he says ..." + +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!" + +But Mrs. James did not smile in reply; the remark came too near to +describing her actual state of mind. + +"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 ..." + +"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: + +"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 ..." + +She stopped, unable to say any more. Her words were much more cruel than +she intended them to be; that is, 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. + +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: + +"I think that Harry will be as well treated by me as you could wish, +Cecilia." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"The time when I always want to cry most," contributed Uncle James, "is +on landing. Everything is so disagreeable then, after the ease and +comfort of the voyage." + +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: + +"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!" + +And the thoughts of Lady Fletcher, as she stood on the deck and watched +the shores slip away from her, were somewhat as follows: + +"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!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +ARCADIA AND YANKEEDOM + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The one valid objection to Harrow was that if Harry was to become an +American citizen, the place to educate him was in America. Sir Giles saw +this, and gave the objection its full value. + +"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!" + +"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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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 _Morning Post_. 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. + +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!... + +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! + +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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"I don't know," said Harry, "I wish he would come, but 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." + +"Well, what about your going over alone? I could see you off at +Liverpool, and they would meet you at New York." + +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. + +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. + +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 _carte blanche_ in the matter of +asking school friends to stay with him when he came home. 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. + +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. + +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. + +Mildred was Sir Giles' only sister, Lady Archibald Carson. She lived in +a little house in the Surrey hills, and 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"Connecticut," replied the girl, readily enough; but she sounded the +second _c_, after the manner of most English people. Harry explained her +mistake to her, and she took the correction smiling, quite without pique +or resentment. + +"Now go on and tell us something about the country. Something really +important, you know; something we don't know already." + +"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." + +He went on at some length, the two girls listening attentively. + +At last Beatrice interrupted with the question: + +"Which do you think you like best, on the whole, England or America?" + +"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." + +"What do you like best in England?" + +"Well, the old things. Cathedrals and castles. Also afternoon tea, which +we don't bother about much over there. And the gardens." + +"And what do you like best about America?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Shut up, silly," said her sister; "you've never ridden in one." + +"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." + +"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." + +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 _abandon_ 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. + +"Oh, dash, there goes my garter," she exclaimed one 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. + +"Well, tie it up or something," said he, sauntering on a few steps. + +Beatrice did what was necessary and ran on and caught up with him. + +"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?" + +"No, I knew that." + +"You really, honestly aren't shocked at what I'm saying?" asked the +girl, scanning his face intently. + +"Not in the least; why should I be? You're not telling me anything +shocking." + +Beatrice drew a long breath of pure enjoyment. + +"It _is_ 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?" + +"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." + +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. + +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 +spent the winter and spring months there, and in the due course of time +Beatrice was brought out into society. + +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. + +"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." + +"I hope that success is not embittering your youthful heart," said +Harry, smiling. + +"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--" + +"Which, after all, is improbable." + +"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." + +"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 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?" + +"Whom shall we have in it? Uncle Giles--he could pass all right, +couldn't he?" + +"Oh, Heavens, yes, _Magna cum_. And Aunt Miriam--perhaps. She would need +some cramming before she went up. What about your mother?" + +"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." + +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. + +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 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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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--" + +"James?" + +"Yes," said Harry, "that's it." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +OMNE IGNOTUM + + +"Bless us, how the boy has grown!" cried Aunt Cecilia, and kissed him +all over again. + +"You'll find your aunt very much changed, I expect," said Uncle James, +clasping his hand and smiling, quite in his old style. + +"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." + +"Hush, don't say that out loud; they'll charge you extra duty for it," +replied Uncle James. + +"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?" + +"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." + +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 nothing, of course, to the joy of the +discovery that he was unspoiled in character. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +"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 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...." + +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. + +"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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. _Omne ignotum pro magnifico est_; 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. + +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, affection and curiosity, the boy made a dash for the +stairs and greeted his brother at the front door with the demonstrative +words: + +"Hello, James!" + +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: + +"Well, Harry, how's the boy?" + +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. + +"Well, you came back without being made an earl, after all, it seems," +said James a little later at lunch. + +"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." + +"How do you think you'll like being a Yankee again?" asked James. "You +certainly don't look much like one at present." + +"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." + +"They all are that way," said Aunt Cecilia with a gentle sigh. "I don't +expect anything else." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"Oh, Lord!" groaned James; "hear the prominent foreigner talk. What do +you think of America, my lord? 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!" + +"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!" + +"Oh, very well," growled James; "after lunch." + +"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, _coram familia_, 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." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"Harry," said she one day; "what do you think of my going to live in New +Haven?" + +"I think it's a fine idea," said Harry. "But where?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"That's sweet of you, but it's not business. I should insist on paying +rent." + +"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." + +"I had a great many friends there in the old days, and should like to +see something of them again. Besides, it will be nice to be in the same +town with you and James." + +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. + +"Well," said Harry, "I hope you'll ask James and me to a Sunday dinner +occasionally." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +LIVY AND VICTOR HUGO + + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"Well, what did you think of it all?" asked James later. + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"Oh, fairly rotten. They all seem to be eight-thirties. Here, you can +see," producing a paper. + +"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." + +"Oh, yes, track work; I'd forgotten that." + +"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." + +"What is a crew build?" asked Harry. + +"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." + +"Yes," said Harry soberly, "I suppose I shall." + +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, 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. + +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. + +"That was sort of a stinking lesson, wasn't it?" he asked. + +"Yes," said Harry, "wasn't it, though?" + +"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?" + +"Yes, awfully dull. Do you use a trot?" + +"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?" + +"Well, yes. That is, I shall. Do you like Latin?" + +"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?" + +"Not much. Not much good at it, either.... Well, I live here--" + +"Oh, do you? so do I. Where are you?" + +"Fourth floor, back. Come up, some time." + +"Thanks, I will. So long." + +"So long." + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"Lord, no; Yankee. Born in New Haven. I have lived over there for some +years, though." + +"Go to school there?" + +"Yes; Harrow." + +"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?" + +"Oh, wonderful." + +"You played cricket, I suppose, and--and those things?" + +"Rugby football, yes," said Harry, smiling. + +"And you liked it, didn't you?" + +"Oh, rather! Only--" + +"Only what?" + +"Oh, nothing. I did like it. It's a wonderful place." + +"Only it's different from what you're doing now?" said Trotwood, with a +burst of insight. "Is that what you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"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. + +"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." + +"I see," said Trotwood again. He wasn't sure that he did see at all, but +he felt that unquestioning sympathy was his cue. + +"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?" + +"Not too many, I'm afraid." + +"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." + +"But we have debating here," said Trotwood, doubtfully. + +"Yes, but what kind of debating? A few grinds getting 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 _News_ 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; _simply wasn't done_. 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." + +"Did he tell you that?" + +"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." + +"No, I should think not! Heavens, a junior fraternity is about the +height of my ambition!" + +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." + +"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." + +"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 +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." + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"Golden locks and blue eyes? Yes, I know him. Acts rather well, they +say." + +"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." + +"But what's the matter with poor Junius? I thought he was as decent as +such a painfully good-looking person could be." + +"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." + +"But I don't take French." + +"No, dear boy; you won't have to know French to see what I'm going to +show you. Your role will consist of lying on the window-seat and being +occupied with day before yesterday's _News_. 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." + +"But there's no need of finding out that," said Trotwood naively. "I +told him so myself, the other day." + +"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?" + +"Yes," admitted Trotwood. + +"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." + +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. + +"'Then they made him sit down on--' oh, Lord, what's a _brancard +bariole_?" said Harry. "You look up _brancard_, Junius, and I'll look up +the other.... Oh, yes; speckled. No; motley--that's probably nearer; it +depends on what _brancard_ means. What does it mean, anyway? Come on, +Junius, do you mean to say you haven't found it yet? What's the matter?" + +"I was looking up _asseoir_," said Junius, who had been staring straight +in front of him. + +"Sit, of course; you knew that. I translated that, anyway. I'll look up +_brancard_." 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 + + Lieut.-Gen. Sir Giles Fletcher, M. P. etc., + 204 Belgrave Square, + London, S. W., + England. + +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. + +"What _are_ you staring at, Junius?" he asked a minute later, with, well +simulated unconsciousness. + +"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 role of affected ignorance that he had assumed. + +"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?" + +"Yes," said Harry; "my uncle." + +"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?" + +"Yes. Married his sister." + +"The Marquis is rather a decent fellow," continued Junius languidly. "Do +you know him?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"Well, of course we didn't know them _well_, at all. They just came and +shot with us once. That's nothing, in Scotland." + +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. + +"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?" + +"I suppose he is. My, but he was fun, though! But he's going to make the +Dramatic Association after Christmas, for all that." + +"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 aesthetic 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." + +"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!" + +"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 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!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A LONG CHEER FOR WIMBOURNE + + +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. + +"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." + +"No," said Harry; "I've been working more at the jumps." + +"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." + +That evening after dinner Harry strolled into Trotwood's room. + +"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. + +"That's all right, Trotty dear," he said. "Never mind about giving me +back my hand; I shall have no further use for it." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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!" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Why?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Maidenliness be hanged. You don't have to be maidenly when you've won +your numerals at track." + +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 had played right +half with great distinction. Presently he inquired: + +"By the way, how about the fall meet yesterday? How did you come out?" + +"Oh, fairly well. I only entered in the low hurdles, but I came out all +right." + +"All right?" + +"Yes--first." + +"What? Do you mean to say that you got first place in the hurdles?" + +"Substantially that, yes." + +"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?" + +"Pretty rotten. Twenty-five two." + +"Not so bad. Gee, but that's fine for you, child!" + +"I'm glad you're pleased, James." + +"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." + +"Oh, damn," said Harry softly and slowly. + +"What's the matter? Forgotten something?" + +"No. I can't forget something, that's the trouble." + +"Well, what _is_ biting you?" + +"Only that if I hear the name of Popham much more, I believe I shall go +mad on the spot." + +"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--" + +"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 _you_ 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." + +James remained silent a moment. "No offense meant," he said gently. "I'm +sure I'm sorry if--" + +"Oh, rot!" Harry disclaimed offense by slipping his hand through his +brother's arm. "Only you don't seem to _see_, James. That's what bothers +me." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Oh, come on. Don't be morbid." + +"No. I've a good mind not to go out for track any more." + +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: + +"You must tell Aunt Selina all about this. She'll be awfully glad to +hear about it." + +"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. + +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 "_Lit._ +heeler"; that is, he contributed regularly to the _Yale Literary +Magazine_. 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 _Lit._ and the _Record_, 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. + +"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 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 _Lit._, 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. + +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 _Lit._ competition," would often throw him into a state of +restless depression from which only the soothing presence of Trotwood +could reclaim him. + +"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 _Lit._ 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?" + +"Cheer up, old cow; you probably won't make one anyway," suggested +Trotty reassuringly, and Harry laughed. + + * * * * * + +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. + +"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 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." + +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. + +"Harry, what _is_ it?" she asked. "_What_ are they making that frightful +noise about?" + +"That's the Harvard cheer," replied Harry calmly. "You'll hear the Yale +people answering with theirs in just a minute." + +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. + +"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...." + +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. + +"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!" + +When the team lined up for its short preliminary practise Harry pointed +James out to her in his place at right halfback. + +"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!" + +"He won't look pale long," said Harry grimly. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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 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. + +"What is it?" shrieked Aunt Selina. "Who won? Who won?" + +"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. + +"--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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +"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 _have_ changed!" + +"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--" + +"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?" + +"Oh, yes; but not so much. Boys don't. Beside, I knew your aunt by +sight...." + +"I'm sorry, I forgot," said Harry. "Aunt Selina, do you know Miss +Elliston? And Mr. Carruthers, my aunt." + +"Madge Elliston," corrected the girl, smiling, "you know my mother, I +think, Miss Wimbourne." + +"Indeed I do, my dear; I am delighted to meet her daughter," said Aunt +Selina, who had had time to recover her customary _grande dame_ air, "I +knew her when she was Margaret Seymour; we used to be great friends." + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"Do you?" he replied. "Well, I'll tell you if you're right." + +"You were thinking of 'Forty Years On.'" + +The smile died from Harry's face, and he paused a moment before +replying, almost gruffly: + +"Yes, I was, as a matter of fact. How did you guess it?" + +"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: + +"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?" + +"It is! There never was such a song." + +"Not even 'Fair Harvard'?" + +"No." + +"Not even 'Bright College Years,' to which you will shortly be treated?" + +"Not even that." They exchanged smiles, and Harry continued, with +pleasure in his voice: + +"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." + +"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: + +"Oh, yes; who doesn't? Is there any satisfaction like that of knowing +that every one else is wrong and you alone are right?" + +"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?" + +"Then there is no such thing as honest heresy?" + +"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: + +"But I am not an honest heretic?" + +"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?" + +"I don't understand." + +"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 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!" + +"By George," said Harry slowly, "you're right. I never thought of that +before. It is rather a priceless thought." + +"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." + +"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...." + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +RUMBLINGS + + +"Please, sir, could you give me any dope for the _News_ about your +coming back to coach the football team?" asked a timid voice from the +doorway. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"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. + +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 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. + +After the _News_ 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 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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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.' + +"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. + +"Then McCullen, who as perhaps you know, is manager, 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!" + +James fully appreciated the humor of this narrative, as the sympathetic +twinkle in his eye betrayed, but he merely observed after Harry had +finished: + +"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." + +"Oh, it's _true_ 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?" + +"Well, I care about it, though I'm no good at track and not a member of +the team," commented James. + +"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." + +"Well, it comes to the same thing, if you keep to it, and don't go +gassing to the track people about your reasons." + +"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 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." + +"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." + +"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. + +"What?" said James, pricking up his ears. "Beatrice going? Why hasn't +Trotty asked me?" + +"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." + +James did not seem particularly interested in points of etiquette in +royal households. + +"What do you make out of this business of the Carsons?" he asked. + +"What business?" + +"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." + +"Good Lord! No, I hadn't heard a thing. I knew what the father was, of +course.... Has anything in particular happened?" + +"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 had a good +deal of money to spend lately; Uncle Giles having given her a lot since +he got that--" + +"Yes, I know. Go on." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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?" + +"Last night? No; what?" + +"Well, you've heard of Junius LeGrand, in our class?" + +"The actress? Yes." + +"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." + +"What happened?" + +"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 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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"After I've drunk, the good spirits are in me," retorted Harry, with +rather savage humor. + +"It's no joking matter. Harry, will you cut it out entirely, if I ask +you to?" + +"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." + +"You won't get me to sympathize with your making a beast of yourself." + +"James, you know perfectly well you were tight as a tick at the football +banquet in Boston last fall." + +"I'm no paragon, I admit." + +"You say that as if you thought you were, and expected me to say so. No, +you're right--you're not. There!" + +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. + +"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." + +"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 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 _coup de theatre_, 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." + +"What did you say?" + +"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...." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"I did." + +"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?" + +"No." + +"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?" + +"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. + +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. + +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 into his head. But chiefest of all he cursed Junius +LeGrand.... + +But that did not do any good. + +The next morning he wrote and posted a note of apology to James:-- + + Dear James--I am sorry about last night--really, I am. I will + try not to make such an ass of myself again. + + HARRY. + +The same evening he received an answer, also through the mail. It was +simply a post-card bearing the words: + + All right. JAMES. + +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.... + +"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." + +"I wish you'd shut up," said Trotwood. "I'm trying to study." + +"I mean it, Trotty. Don't pretend you don't hear, or understand. I'm +giving you warning." + +"Rot," said Trotty, beginning to blush. "Damned, infernal rot." + +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." + +"Will you shut up, you infernal idiot?" + +"No. I tell you, I'm going straight to the devil." + +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. + +"Now," said Trotwood, "I'm going to talk about this 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. + +"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. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AUNT SELINA'S BEAUX YEUX + + +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. + +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. + +"But do you think you can get Macgrath's permission?" he asked, +stupefied. + +"Why in the world should I bother about asking Macgrath's permission?" +answered Harry. "Of course he wouldn't give it to me." + +"Do you mean to say that you're going without it?" + +"Of course I'm going without it." + +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." + +"So I supposed." + +"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?" + +Harry waited a moment before replying, wondering how he could silence +Dimmock without angering him. + +"That would all sound very well, if it were the dean and not the track +captain that said it," he ventured. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"It'll do him good to let his heels cool for a while," observed Dimmock +to Macgrath. + +"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. + +"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." + +"He's a second Popham," said Macgrath. + +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. + +But that did not make him any more popular in the track world. + +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. + +"I do like your relations," she once told Harry; "I 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!" + +"I know," said Harry, laughing. "Did you tell Aunt Miriam that?" + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +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 debutante 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. + +One evening after dinner Beatrice, accompanied by both the brothers, was +walking down one drive and up the other, as the family were in the +habit of doing on warm spring evenings. + +"Are you both prepared to hear something funny?" she asked. + +"Fire away," they answered, and she continued: + +"Well, I'm probably going to come back here next winter and live with +Aunt Selina!" + +Harry gave a long whistle. + +"This from you! Are you actually going to turn Yankee, too?" + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"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?... + +But he was undeniably glad she was coming back, and found occasion to +tell her so more fully another time, when they were alone. + +"I'm particularly glad," he added, "on Harry's account. He needs some +one to keep an eye on him; do you think you can do it?" + +"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?" + +"Heaven knows.... I was lazy; I got in a rut. I wish I had, now." + +"Why, nothing's going wrong, I hope?" + +"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--" + +"Ideas?" + +"Yes; fool notions he got about the way things are done in England--" + +"Isn't that a trifle hard?" + +"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--" + +"In Dutch," murmured Beatrice. "Oh, I do like that!" But James did not +notice the interruption. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Oh, yes, you have. He has the greatest respect for you." + +"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: + +"But I honestly don't think, James, that there's much to worry about. I +don't mean that he mayn't get into 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." + +"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: + +"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!" + +"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. + +Harry's attitude toward her decision, as expressed in his next +_tete-a-tete_ with her, was rather different from that of his brother. + +"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 _beaux yeux_!" + +"No!" said Beatrice, laughing; "I don't believe it's quite all that, +either!" + +"What will people think about it over there?" went on Harry. "What'll +your mother say?" + +"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." + +"Is she as much of a social success as you?" asked Harry with that +frankness that was characteristic of their relation. + +"Much more so--in a way. She uses her gifts to much more effect." + +"She's not nearly as good-looking as you," persisted Harry. + +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: + +"Well, no; I suppose not. It's the only thing in which I have the better +of her, though. I'm very--" + +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! + +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. + +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. + +"This is the swimming-pool," he would tell them; "it doesn't look very +big now, does it? Perhaps not! But it _seems_ 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. _They_ won't help you!" + +"They don't do that to _every_ freshman, though, do they?" hopefully +inquired Oswald, a nice, plump, yellow-haired, wide-eyed youth of +fourteen or so, the image of his mother. + +"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.) + +"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. + +"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!" + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ACT OF GOD + + +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, _did_ 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! + +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, 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.... + +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. + +"Well, Stodger! What are you doing down here?" he cried cheerfully. + +"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. + +"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 _Star_ and a _Sun_ and a _Mercury_, 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!" + +Pecuniary transaction ensued, parallel with conversation. + +"And how do _you_ like this weather, Stodger?" + +"Me? Oh, _I_ don't mind." + +"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." + +"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. + +"I see. Stodger, did you ever hear of an act of God?" + +"Huh?" + +"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 half +a dollar. Can you get something to eat and keep yourself warm over night +with that?" + +"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. + +"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. + +"Gee, but he's a bum choice!" + +"Who?" + +"Steele." + +"Steele? Oh, I'm not so sure. He's death on running back punts...." + +"Aw, he _is_ 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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"Well, I wonder. Stodger, do you think you could recognize any +all-America player if you saw him on the street, in ordinary togs?" + +"Sure I could." + +"How many years back?" + +"T'ree years ... oh, more; four, five years, mebbe!" + +"Well, I'm afraid you lose, Stodger!" + +"Aw, gwawn! Try me an' see!" + +"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!" + +"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; _she_'ll believe yer! +You can't slip one like that on _me_, 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. + +"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. + +"Line, er back?" he inquired. + +"Back." + +"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 _that_ on me. You're not that Wimboine. You look a +little bit like him, but you're not _that_ Wimboine. Brudder, p'raps. +_You're_ no football player." + +"Why not?" + +"Too thin. _You_ c'd never tear through the line th' way _that_ feller +did." + +"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. + +"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!" + +"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:-- + +"Say, dey was a guy useter live down Chicago called 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!" + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + Dear James: + + 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. + + 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. + "Your aunt sends her love. Your affect. uncle, + + JAMES WIMBOURNE. + +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. + +On the whole, James felt better for having read the letter, and opened +Beatrice's with a lighter heart. + + Dear James; (he read) + + 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 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. + + 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. + + 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! + + As ever yours, + + BEATRICE. + +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. + +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 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. + +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 P.M." (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. + +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 +_in re_ 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. + +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! + +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--! 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. + +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. + +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 +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.... + +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. + +"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?" + +"Oh--Laffan! How are you?... Nothing much; I just thought of something, +that's all." + +"Congratulations on your thoughts. I'm looking for some one to dine +with; I suppose you've eaten? It's late--" + +"Whew--nearly eight! No, I've not eaten; shall we go up together?" + +They started to leave the room, but James stopped abruptly in the +doorway, suddenly practical, master of himself, of the whole situation. + +"I say, Laffan, you're a lawyer, aren't you?" + +"I attempt to be." + +"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--" + +"Oh, rot, man--not on an empty stomach! Come along upstairs; you can +tell me all about it while you eat!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +SARDOU + + +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. + +"Why didn't you go to Smith?" said his employer, naming the head of the +department in which James was working. + +"I didn't think he'd let me off without your leave, sir." + +"Hm.... You must go, must you?" + +"I'm afraid I must. Indeed, I'm bound to say, sir, that I shall go, +leave or no leave." + +"Hm. Well, you can go; but if you take more than half a week it'll have +to come off your annual vacation." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"Plain enough sailing, now," replied James, smiling encouragingly. "I +don't think you need to worry." + +"Well, if you get into trouble, don't lose your head or your temper, or +try to bluff. Just say you'll leave the rest to your lawyers, and get +out!" + +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.... + +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. + +"One moment," she said, looking up and smiling. + +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. + +The black back shuffled inchoately out of his vision; his moment had +come. He walked forward. + +"You are Miss Mowbray, are you not?" he asked, speaking slowly and +steadying his voice with difficulty. + +"Yes?" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Very well." James sat down. He felt his courage returning; 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. + +She filled her bowl with warm water and arranged her instruments with +perfect composure. When she was ready James surrendered his right hand. + +"Miss Mowbray," he began at length, "as I understand the matter, you are +suing my brother for breach of promise. Is that right?" + +"It is." + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"The sum is just eighty times too small." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +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! + +"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." + +"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. + +"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 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. + +"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. + +"Are you satisfied, Miss Mowbray?" he asked at length. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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. + +"No--that is--yes, he did." Of course he had not, but James was already +planning a little _coup_ of his own not included in Mr. Raynham's +arrangements. + +"Well, could you come back here this evening? Toward ten? We close then, +on Saturdays." + +"Very well." + +Both were silent for some time. At last, when the manicuring was almost +completed, James said with a sudden burst of friendly curiosity: + +"Honestly, Miss Mowbray, why did you do it? Get married to him first, I +mean." + +She looked coldly up at him. "I really don't see why I should answer +that question, Mr. Wimbourne." + +"Of course not. There's not the slightest reason why you should answer +it, if you don't want to." + +She was not proof against his candor or his smile. She smiled back, in +spite of herself, without rancor or affectation. + +"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." + +James made no reply to this, but only reddened slightly, and she went +on: + +"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." + +"And you never knew he had a brother in Minneapolis?" + +"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?" + +"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...." + +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, 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." + +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: + +"You've got a good husband in Edward Jennings, anyway. He's a good chap, +according to all accounts...." + +She smiled, deprecatorily. "He's a nice boy. But he'll never make any +money." + +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. + +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." + +Miss Mowbray fingered the envelope indecisively a moment; then she +opened it and took out the contents. + +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. + +"Nobody asked you to do anything, except deliver the letter," replied +James cheerfully. "I'd like to know what 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!" + +He shook her hand quickly and was actually off before she had time to +offer another word of objection. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +UN-ANGLO-SAXON + + +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. + +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. + +"Hullo, Harry," he said gently. + +"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?" + +"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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"No, of course I haven't--there was no need for it. She 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." + +"And you--" + +"I came here and told her so, to-day." + +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. + +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. + +"Poor old thing," he said softly; "you have been having sort of a hard +time of it, haven't you?" + + * * * * * + +"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." + +"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 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." + +"Yes. But I don't quite see--You say she was married in September?" + +"Yes--the third." + +"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--" + +"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!" + +"Yes. It's the kind of humor that appeals to me, I can tell you." + +"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.... + +"Harry, I wish you'd tell me one thing," went on James, after a pause. + +"Anything I can, James." + +"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--" + +"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 +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!" + +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. + +"Gosh," said James, when he had read it, "do you mean to say you've kept +that old thing ever since?" + +"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!" + +"I know," said James; "I know the feeling." + +"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." + +"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?--" + +"No, I don't," began Harry stoutly, but James continued: + +"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. 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!" + +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. + +"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...." + +"James," he went on, a little later; "it makes you feel as if you were +getting on, doesn't it?" + +"How? In years?" + +"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!" + +"Yes," said James reflectively, "it does seem a good deal that way." + +"There are lots of questions you haven't asked me yet, James," continued +Harry, after another interval. + +"Are there? Well, tell me what they are and I'll ask them, if you're so +crazy to answer them." + +"The first is, What on earth could you ever have seen in That Woman?" + +"There was no need to ask that question," replied James, laughing; "not +after I saw her to-day, at any rate." + +"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." + +"That was part of her little plan, of course," said James. + +"Well, well--I shouldn't wonder if it was! You always were a clever +child, James!..." + +"What are some more of the things I've got to ask?" inquired the clever +child after a brief silence. + +"What? Oh--yes! Why don't you ask me to cut out the lick?" (He meant, +abstain from alcoholic beverages.) + +"Well, do you want me to?" + +"Well, yes, I think I do, rather!" + +"Well, will you?" + +"Well--yes!" + +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--" + +"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. + +"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." + +"I don't know," objected James, serious again, "I don't think that I +shall be sorry for anything I've said or done." + +"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--!" + +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. + +"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?" + +"Yes," said Harry; "in my bed; I shall sleep on the sofa," and he +forthwith embarked on a search for extra sheets and blankets. + +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. + +"Well, how does it look this morning?" James asked, studying his +brother's face. + +Harry shuffled along several steps through the slush before he answered: + +"Just the same, James, and I for one, don't mind saying so." Then they +looked at each other and smiled slightly. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +CHIEFLY CARDIAC + + +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. + +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." + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Aunt Selina took the good news much as a duchess of the old regime might +have learned that the Committee of Public Safety had decided not to chop +off her husband's 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. + +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. + +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. + +Of course he gave no outward sign of all this. He merely said, as soon +as he could trust himself to be articulate, in a perfectly ordinary tone +of voice: + +"There's Beatrice, now. She's walking." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Beatrice!" he cried eagerly, as he threw the door open, "I do hope +you're not wet through!" + +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. + +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. She was entirely at her ease. James found +himself running on, quite easily: + +"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!" + +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. + +"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?" + +"It can," said James, smiling at her impetuosity. "Like-wise, it has. In +fact, it's all over!" + +"What do you mean?... Have you paid her off?" + +"No; she withdrew of her own accord." + +"James, don't be irritating! Tell me about it. You've done something, I +know you have!" + +"Well--possibly!" He smiled tantalizingly at her--so like a man! + +"What?" + +"Well, I'll tell you--on one condition." + +"What's that?" + +"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. + +Beatrice dropped her eyes and drew down the corners of her mouth, with +an expression half humorous, half contemptuous. "Go ahead," said she. + +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. + +"So, he is free!" she said at last, when she had cross-questioned the +whole thing out of him. "He is free again!..." + +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. + +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! + +Presently he was aware of her making remarks laudatory of himself, and +primed his ears to listen. + +"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!" + +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 the +house without first ringing, jumped from her chair and started towards +the hall, the words "There he is now!" glowing on her lips.... + +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-- + + This earth of mine doth tremble, and I feel + A stark affrighted motion in my blood + +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. + +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.... + +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. + +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, 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. + +Presently Aunt Selina returned and dinner was announced. + + * * * * * + +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! + +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. 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? + +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? + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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 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?... + +"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...." + +"Yes?" said James, wondering what was to follow. + +"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. + +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!" + +"That's it--unique," said Harry, joining in with his mood. "You've +mastered the art of uniquity, James." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"Yes, that's true," said James slowly; "that's perfectly true." + +"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." + +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. + +"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--'" + +"'That from me estrange your sight,'" finished Harry. "I +remember--Campion, I think." + +"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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE SADDEST TALE + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"It's not that I don't want to do all these things," he explained to +Trotty, who sometimes showed impatience at 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!" + +One Sunday afternoon in June, rather saddened by the feeling of his +apparent uselessness in the world, he went to call on Madge Elliston. + +"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." + +"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 Cevennes 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." + +"Why don't you write, if I may be pardoned for asking so obvious a +question?" asked Madge. + +"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." + +"I shouldn't say so. I've read most of what you've written in college, +and it seems to me extremely clever." + +"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!" + +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." + +"Crossing-sweeping?" + +"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?" + +"Woman's sphere is the home," said Harry doubtfully. + +"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." + +"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!" + +"James? Is he in this part of the country?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Thank you; that's very encouraging," said Harry. 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?" + +"Heavens yes, hundreds of times!" + +"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!" + +Madge was at first amused by this elaborate compliment, but she ended by +being rather touched by it. + +"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." + +"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!" + +"Well, you must at least let me believe in the ultimacy of your finding +your profession," insisted Madge. But Harry only shook his head. + +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 +able to celebrate it in a full blaze of righteousness and truth, and +because of the consequent opportunities for motherly fluttering. + +"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 _so_ nice +to think that--" + +"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." + +"Harry, what nonsense you do talk!" said his aunt. "Before these +girls--!" + +"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." + +"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." + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"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." + +"My dear, how can you talk so? you ought to be ashamed, after his being +so nice to you all this week!" + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +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-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. + +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? + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + + Mother of men, grown strong in giving + Honor to them thy lights have led, + +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. + + Rich in the toil of thousands living, + Proud of the deeds of thousands dead, + +Deeds, deeds! That was what counted; any one could see visions and dream +dreams; the veriest fool could mean 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. + + Spirit of youth, alive, unchanging, + Under whose feet the years are cast, + Heir to an ageless empire, ranging + Over the future and the past-- + +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! + +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. + +"Spirit of youth," he whispered, "to you I dedicate myself, such as I +am, and my life, such as it may be." + +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 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. + +"Spirit of youth, alive, unchanging!" he quoted again, laughing. Then he +hurried off to say good-by to his aunt. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER I + +CAN LOVE BE CONTROLLED BY ADVICE? + + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +The only unimpressed and indifferent person in the theater was the +coach. That was quite as it should be, of 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. + +"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?" + +"'Mothers obey.'" + +"All right--let's have 'em. I didn't get them that time. Go on, please." + +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. + +"Well, what do you think of Madge?" asked Mrs. Scharndorst, waylaying +the coach on his progress down the aisle. + +"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. + +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. + +"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 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?" + +This last is in answer to an inquiry from Miss Elliston. + +"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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"Well, what I want to get at is, do you think Gay's words are up to +it?" + +"Nowhere near. I'd much rather sing some of yours, if that's what you're +getting at.... They're not quite _jeune fille_, either; I just +discovered that to-day." + +"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 ..." + +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: + + Can love be controlled by advice? + Will Cupid our mothers obey? + Though my heart were as frozen as ice + At his flame 'twould have melted away. + Now love is enthroned in my heart + All your threats and entreaties are in vain; + His power defies all your art, + And chiding but adds to my pain. + + Ah, mother! if ever in youth + Your heart by love's anguish was wrung; + If ever you thrilled with its truth + Too sweet to be spoken or sung; + If ever you've longed for life's best, + Nor reckoned the issue thereof; + If heart ever beat in your breast + Have pity on me--for I love! + +"There!" said he, handing it to the prima donna; "see what you think of +that." + +"Oh ... much better! There'll be much more fun in singing it." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"By the way," said he "your sense of filial duty almost led you astray +to-night, didn't it?" + +"Filial duty?" + +"Yes--you thought I was making remarks about your mother to-night when I +was talking to Cosgrove about Mrs. Peachum and that song...." + +"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! + +"Yes," went on Harry, "don't expect me to believe that you were angry on +behalf of Mrs. Peachum!" + +"No. I suppose I had a right to be angry on behalf of my own mother, if +I wanted to, though." + +"But I wasn't talking about your mother--you know that!" + +"Oh, weren't you?" + +"Well, do you think so?" + +"How should I know? I was only eavesdropping, of course, I have no right +to think anything about it." + +"Madge, don't be silly." + +"Well?" + +"Do you really, honestly think that I am guilty of having spoken +slightingly of your mother? Just answer me that, yes or no." + +"As I say, I have no right to any opinion on the subject. I only heard +something not intended--" + +"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." + +"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. + +"Madge, you may not know it, but you are positively insulting." + +"Oh, Harry--! Who began being insulting? Not that I mind your insulting +me...." + +"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." + +"I don't see the necessity." + +"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. + +"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." + +"Good-night." + +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. + +Morning brought to Harry, at any rate, a complete return of sanity, and +before breakfast he sat down and wrote the following note: + + Dear Madge: + + 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 much, of it as possible to + the fatigue of business and forgive the rest! + + HARRY. + +which he enclosed in an envelope with the words of the song and sent to +Madge by a messenger boy. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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.... + +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. + +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 realized that Madge was singing not Gay's +words, but his own. + +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.... + +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. + +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? + +"I don't know!" he said at last, loudly and petulantly, and several +people turned to see whom he was reproving now. + +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 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. + +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.... + +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. + +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. + +"What are those?" he asked. + +"Bleeding hearts," said the florist's clerk. "Just up from Florida; very +hard to get at this time of year." + +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. + +"I'll have these then, instead of the roses, please," he said aloud. +"All of them, and don't forget the card." + +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. + +"Well, what did _you_ think of it?" she asked. + +"I think the performance was very creditable," he answered. "To say what +I think of you would be compromising." + +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. + +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. + +"I really think," he said, "that this is IT. I really do think so ... +But I must be very careful," he added, to himself; "_very_ careful. I +must take no chances--this time. Both on Madge's account and on mine." + +"No," he added after a moment; "not on my account. On Madge's." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CONGREVE + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 Friday, Mr. Vimbourne? and we will talk it over. I +am sorry to trouble you, but you see I am so very, very busy...." + +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. + +"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...." + +"I don't believe you, Mr. Bachmann," said Harry. + +"Ah?" said the manager, without the slightest apparent interest. "Why +not, Mr. Vimbourne?" + +"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." + +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. + +"Then why on earth didn't you say so in the first place?" stammered +Harry. + +The manager made no reply for some moments, but sat silently puffing and +turning over the pages of Harry's manuscript. + +"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. + +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." + +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...." + +"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." + +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. + +"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!" + +"Yes, I think I understand you," said Harry, laughing. "I'll wait. And +I'll come to the rehearsals, too!" + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 chateau with a Le Notre garden. She discovers, just in +time, that his intentions are not honorable, and is rescued by a Montana +prairie, who happens 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." + +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 _vis-a-vis_, who said with a dispassionate air: + +"I think, Mr. Wimbourne, you stand in a great danger." + +"Danger?" + +"Yes, that is, I hope you do. If not, I'm very much disappointed in +you." + +"Thank you so much, but just how?" + +"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." + +Harry looked at her in blank astonishment, and she went on: + +"If you go on talking that way about your profession, you'll get to +think that way and finally _be_ 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." + +Harry leaned back in his chair and tapped the table 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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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, _anything_, whatever it is, unless +you take your work seriously--at bottom." + +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 _camaraderie_ 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? + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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...." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Let's see." + +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. + +"Burchard!" Bachmann bellowed, in the general direction of the stage. + +"Yes!" + +"What about those two speeches before Miss Cleves' exit?" + +There was a short and rather flurried silence from the stage, after +which the voice of Burchard again emerged: + +"Miss Cleves said she couldn't make her exit on that line." + +"Where is she? Tell her to come back and try it." + +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 to +an outburst of internal mirth, at his own expense. + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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 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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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 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 _are not done_; 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? + +"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 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? + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"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 _punch_. 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. + +"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.'" + +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 dull but eminently important +dinners. He became the object of the attention of reporters, and also of +that section of metropolitan _literati_ 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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Half," said James. + +"Oh, were you? Well, you don't smell of anything aesthetic-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!" + +"Oh, that's all right. They all know me, anyway. They know I don't take +risks." + +"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 _shall_ be glad!" + +"Well, I will say," said James slowly and carefully, with the air of one +determined to do the most meticulous justice, "that you have kept your +head through it all pretty well." + +"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." + +"Watch-chain round your neck?" suggested James. + +"Oh, worse than that--diamond bracelets! And corsets--if necessary. I +saw a man wearing both the other day, I really did." + +"A man?" + +"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." + +"Well," said James, "I give you permission to be as ultra as you like, +after you've written 'Hamlet.'" + +"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?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +NOT TRIASSIC, CERTAINLY, BUT NEARLY AS OLD + + +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. + +"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...." + +"Oh, yes, of course," he said at last; "I remember now. Madge Elliston." + +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. + +"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. + +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 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. + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +"I suppose I might keep away from her for a while," he said presently. + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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 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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Trotty," said he, "I'm going north on the twelve-fifty to-morrow." + +"Oh," replied Trotty. "Bad news?" + +"No." + +"In love?" + +"Yep." + +"Oh." A silence of some length ensued. + +"Carson?" asked Trotty at last. + +"No, no--Elliston." + +"Oh.... Well, here's luck." + +"Thanks. I need it." + +In this matter-of-fact, almost coarse form was cast the most intimate +conversation the two ever had together. + + * * * * * + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Do tell all about North Carolina," said Madge; "it's a delightful +state, isn't it?" + +"Oh, delightful." + +"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?" + +"Not triassic, certainly." + +"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." + +"Not at all. I was helping Trotty to recover from something." + +"Oh, really? What?" + +"Pneumonia. Also pleurisy." + +"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...." + +"Well, Trotty doesn't," said Harry; "so he didn't." + +"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?" + +"Couldn't say, I'm sure." + +"I mean Trotty, of course! Poor Uncle Rudolph!" + +"Very well, indeed.--Madge!" he went on, gathering courage for a break, +"I didn't come here to-night to talk about Uncle Rudolph!" + +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!" + +"Oh, yes, perfectly simple." + +"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 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?" + +"Yes, indeed, without any doubt." + +"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...." + +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. + +"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! + +"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. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"Dear Harry, indeed I do!" said Madge impulsively, feeling a great wave +of pity and unhappiness swell in her bosom. "Indeed I do!" + +"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!" + +"Indeed it is, Harry; that's just what it is!" + +"Then you think you can't--love me?" + +"No--God forgive me, I can't!" + +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." + +"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?" + +"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!" + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 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...." + +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?" + +She nodded. "I suppose I do--from your point of view." + +"No--from _our_ point of view." + +"Well, yes.... It is just a little bit hard, though, that the first +offer of marriage I ever made should be turned down." + +Harry laughed, loudly and suddenly. "That's right!" he said; "that's +_you_! 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 _then_ 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?" + +Madge nodded her head. "That's just about it. For a long time--oh, but +what's the use in _that_...?" + +"No, go ahead." + +"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, _much_ 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 would be if +it came to _that_.... 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--" + +"Come, come, remember my instructions," interpolated Harry. + +"--a person incapable of love is. And it just knocked me flat for the +moment." + +"I see," said Harry thoughtfully; "I see." + +"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 _might_ 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 _you_ anything but the real thing, +if I gave you anything--that's what it comes to!" + +"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?" + +"No, no, Harry--please! I can't explain it, but I really am quite, +_quite_ sure! No one could be gladder than I if it were otherwise!" + +"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?" + +"I thought," murmured Madge, apparently to her handkerchief. The rest +was almost inaudible, but Harry succeeded in catching the phrase "some +nice girl." + +"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 girl"! Madge, still leaning on the edge of the piano, +watched him with some apprehension, occasionally smothering a reluctant +smile in her handkerchief. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"No, no, you mustn't count on that. If I don't now, I can't ever +possibly! Really--" + +"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?" + +"I--don't know," replied Madge inconclusively. + +"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." + +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 _not_ 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. + +"Well," she said at length. "But how will you arrange it?" + +"I shall simply go away--to-morrow. Abroad. You'll be here?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you do this summer?" + +"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." + +Harry made a gesture of impatience. "I suppose that's as good as +anything. If you'll be happy?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"On one condition--that you do the same if you change your mind the +other way!" + +"Madge, what idiocy!" + +"No, no; you must agree. Why shouldn't you be given a chance of changing +your mind, as well as I?" + +"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. + +"Oh, one thing--your work!" Madge apparently was suffering a slight +relapse of self-denunciation. "How absolutely like me, I never thought +of that!" + +"I can work abroad as well as here. I can work anywhere better than +here--you must see that." + +"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?" + +"Saturday, I expect. To the Mediterranean. I shall leave town to-morrow, +though; you won't be bothered by me again!" + +"You must give yourself plenty of time to pack. Be sure--" she checked +herself, apparently embarrassed. + +"Be sure what?" + +"Nothing--none of my business." + +"Yes, please! My dying request!" + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed; "if it does--if it should come off, wouldn't +it be simply--Nirvana, and that sort of thing?" + +"Madge," replied Harry solemnly from the doorstep, "it will make Nirvana +look like the Black Hole of Calcutta!" + +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. + +"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, _long_ 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 _sure_"--she turned out the +gas--"first. _Perfectly_ 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." + +"No," she amended as she felt with her foot for the first step of the +dark staircase; "not on my account. On Harry's." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WILD HORSES AND CHAMPAGNE + + +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. + +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. + +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--_schoene Seele_. James had a _schoene Seele_. 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. + +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 _penchant_ 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 _schoene +Seele_. 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. + +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. + +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. + +"Only," he objected, "please, I'll have to ask me grand-mudder!" + +"Oh, of course," said James gravely. "You couldn't go without her +consent. I'll have a talk with her myself, if you like." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 suspense is telling on me; why doesn't +somebody come?" + +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. + +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? _Schoene Seelen_ 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. + +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 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. + +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 _grand_mother, +not my mother,' he answered, which really covered the matter pretty +well." + +"But he's never shown you either her or a letter from her?" asked Mrs. +Farnsworth. + +"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." + +"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: + +"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." + +"No," replied James; "I've never asked him anything very definite. I +must find out something more about her some time." + +"What would the ideal grandmother be like, I wonder?" queried Mrs. +Farnsworth. "Yours or mine, for example? 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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +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. + +"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 _you_ 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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Oh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I _am_ 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. + +"Oh, Madge?" said James vaguely. "That's all right--I mean, it's my +fault, entirely...." He joined in the rescue work with grateful fervor, +and in a moment a servant came up and did something efficient with a +napkin. Madge chattered on. + +"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!" + +"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?" + +"My dear James, I don't suppose wild horses--" + +"Oh, come now, you must!" + +"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?" + +"I can't say--I haven't been here enough. I'm pretty sure, though, that +there are no wild horses here to-night." + +"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." + +"Oh, this is getting beyond me!" + +"Guess!" said Madge, inexorably. + +"Well ... Professor Dodd?" + +"Right. Now the other." + +"Oh--old George Harriman." + +"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 _de trop_, +somehow, when I'm doing it." + +"I can't guess," said James after a pause. + +"Well, it's Beatrice Carson!" + +"No, not Beatrice! Why, she's very fond of music!" + +"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?" + +"Something, yes." + +"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!" + +"But you teach school," objected James. "That's sound constructive +work." + +"That," replied Miss Elliston, "is not for eleemosynary reasons." + +"But you do it very well." + +"No, you're mistaken there, and beside, I hate teaching school; I simply +_loathe_ 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!" + +"Really," said James thoughtfully, "that's the way it is with you, is +it?" + +"I'm afraid so! You won't give me away though, will you, James?" + +"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!" + +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. + +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 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. + +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!" + +"What?" she asked, not understanding. + +"Champagne," said James. + +"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. + +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.... + +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. + +"Look here," he asked; "have you ever sung for Beatrice's working +girls?" + +"No," answered she in some surprise. "Why?" + +"Why not?" + +"I've never been asked, for one thing!" + +"Would you, if you were? I'd like to suggest it to Beatrice, at any +rate." + +"That's all very well for me, but what about the poor working girls?" + +"I should say that any working girl that didn't want to hear you sing +didn't deserve to be helped. I may suggest it to her, then?" + +"Certainly, if you like. I don't really imagine that she'll have any use +for it, though." + +"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. + +Sustained by this vision he embarked quite fearlessly and efficiently on +a _tete-a-tete_ 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. + +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.... + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A SCHOeNE SEELE ON PISGAH + + +More than four years have elapsed before we see James Wimbourne again. + +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? + +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 +from the vaguest of acquaintanceships into its present state. + +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 debutante. After that she merged from her genus and, almost +without going through the intermediate stages of species and variety, +became an individual. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 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. + +"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. + +"Oh, _I'm_ 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." + +"You've become one of them then, have you?" + +"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'?" + +"I don't think I have," replied James. + +"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...." + +"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. "Good +Lord, why can't we live in a world where every one talks like that?" he +suddenly asked himself. + +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. + +"I wish I could do something of this sort," he said presently, in a +musing sort of way. + +"Why don't you? There's plenty of chance in New York, I should say." + +"Oh, New York, yes. I hadn't thought of that. I don't know what use I +could be, though." + +"No difficulty about that, I should think. What about athletics? You'd +work among boys, I presume?" + +"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? + +"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." + +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, +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Oh, nonsense!" said James. "I'll come," he added in the next breath. + +It was from just about the time of those dances, James thought, that the +personal element in his relation to Madge 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. + +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. + +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 +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.... + +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.... + +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. + +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 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.... + +"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!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A LONG CHAPTER. BUT THEN, LOVE IS LONG + + +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. + +"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." + +Aunt Selina calmly took off her glasses, laid them beside her pen on the +desk and paused before replying. + +"Good-by, my dear," she said at length; "I'm sure I hope you'll enjoy +yourself. Brown Shipley, I suppose?" + +"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. + +"No, my dear." + +"Well, why do you _think_?" + +"I prefer not to guess, if that is what you mean. You may tell me, if +you wish." + +"Madge Elliston," mumbled Harry. + +Aunt Selina stared immovably at her bank book for a moment; then she got +up and faced her nephew. + +"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. + +"How do--how would you like it?" he asked, still hesitating, uncertain +as to her meaning. + +"Nothing better. I wish you the best of luck. And I think you're doing +the wisest possible thing." + +"I'm glad you do." He looked at her gratefully. "Did you suspect +anything?" + +"Not a thing." + +"Then I don't believe any one does.... Good-by, Aunt Selina." + +"You've done me a great honor. Good-by, dear." + +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. + +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 _in extenso_. + +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. + +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. + +Harry had never known Paris well enough to care for it 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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"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!" + +"That'll do, G. It's good for the boy." + +"There's small danger of my being a lion in London, anyway," said Harry. + +"Oh, I don't know," ruminated Uncle Giles: "adoration of success is the +great British vice, you know." + +"Monday the fourth, then, Giles," said his wife. + +"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!" + +"No, I don't think we'll do that," answered Aunt Miriam, closing her +lips rather firmly. + +Harry had a short talk alone with his aunt that night after she came +back from the evening's business. + +"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 over you lately, you're changed, somehow. Is it +only your success? What brought you over here, in the first place?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"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?" + +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. + +"Do you ever ride these days, Tommy?" he asked presently. "That is, +would you ride with me some day, if I can scratch up an animal?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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.) + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Righto--Achilles statue--seven-thirty sharp." + +"Righto," answered Harry, and laughed to think how well he said it. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"Good-by, Tommy," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm going." + +"Oh, don't do that," said Tommy. "Birds flying rotten high to-day." + +"It's not that. I'm going home." + +"Righto. See you at tea time, then." + +"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." + +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." + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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...." + +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. + +"Where is your little girl?" he asked. + +"Oh, Lily--she's having her French lesson, I suppose. We find it works +better that way, to leave the morning free 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...." + +"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. + +"Oh, yes, indeed; I'll tell them both to come down to the court after +the lesson," replied his hostess. + +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. + +"How do you do?" he said, holding out his perspiring hand. + +"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. + +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. + +"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 and then having it rain. Let's see, two, four, six--we +shall all be able to pile in somehow...." + +"But I'm afraid I shall have to change," objected Harry. "I don't quite +see how I can manage." + +"We shall see the moon rise over McFarland," observed young Mrs. Dimmock +in a rapt manner, as though that immediately solved the problem. + +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.... + +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. + +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. + +He caught sight of James on the way and dragged him out of the others' +hearing. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Nothing the matter with that kid?" he inquired at last. + +She shook her head. + +"Come with me then." + +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. + +"Get in there," he commanded. + +She hesitated. "It's not safe, really--" + +"Get in," he repeated almost roughly. + +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 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. + +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.... + +"Well, Harry?" + +"Well, Madge?" + +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. + +"The answer," she said, "is in the affirmative." + +The next thing Madge was aware of was Harry paddling with all his might +for the shore. + +"What are you doing?" she asked. + +"Going to get out of this confounded thing," he replied. + +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. + +"You really are quite a nice young woman," he remarked; "even if you did +propose to me." + +"Harold Wimbourne! I never!" + +"You said, 'Well, Harry.' I should like to know what that is if it isn't +a proposal." + +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. + +"What is it now?" he asked. + +"Nothing ... only that it should have happened in a canoe. You, of all +people!" + +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. + +"Suppose you tell me all about it," suggested Harry. + +"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!" + +"Yes," said Harry thoughtfully, "I should think you might have gathered +from that that all was not quite as it should be." + +"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!" + +"You really knew then, months ago? Beyond all doubt or question?" + +"I shouldn't wonder." + +"Then why in the world didn't you telegraph me?" + +"As if I would!" exclaimed Miss Elliston with an indignant sniff. + +"That was the arrangement, you know." + +"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!" + +"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 one, from beginning to end, who said I had a coarse masculine +mind." + +"Brute," murmured Miss Elliston, apparently to Harry's back collar +button. + + * * * * * + +"I suppose," she observed, jumping up a little later, "that you were +really right in the beginning. That first evening, you know." + +"Oh, I'm quite sure of it. How?" + +"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." + +"How sane," murmured Harry. "How incontrovertibly logical." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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 her primmest manner, "how little, how +singularly little do you know of that beautiful mystery, a woman's +heart." + +"A woman's what?" + +"Heart." + +"Oh, yes, to be sure. As I understand it, the only mystery is whether it +exists or not." + +"How can you say that?" cried Madge with sudden passion, grasping at him +almost roughly. + +"I didn't," replied Harry. + +"No, dear, excuse me, of course you didn't. Only I have to make a fool +of myself every now and then...." + + * * * * * + +"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 _all_ the time. There +were moments.... Do you know that backbone feeling?" + +"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?" + +"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 and had lived up to my love to the best of my ability...." + +"That doesn't seem very much now, does it?" suggested Harry. + +"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?" + +"Never. The truth has really done itself proud, for once." + +"The truth--fancy, this is the truth! This!... Oh, nonsense, it can't +be! We aren't _really_ 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?" + +"A few have--a very few. A great play has been written round that very +thing--_La Vida Es Sueno_--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!" + + * * * * * + +"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?" + +"Oh, the tiresome woman! Well, when should you say?" + +"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?" + +"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 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...." + +"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--" + +"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...." + +"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." + +"Yes," said Harry, "I have a feeling that it is, too." + + * * * * * + +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. + +"What about Mrs. Gilson?" suggested Madge. + +"Might as well," replied Harry. + +"All right. You'll have to do it, though." + +"Very well, then. Come along." + +They rose and stood for a moment among the scattered chairs, both +thinking of their absurd meeting on that spot 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. + +"Well, the whole world is changed for us two, isn't it?" + +"It is." + +"Nothing will ever be quite the same again, but always better, somehow. +Even indifferent things. And nothing can ever spoil this one evening?" + +"Nothing?" + +"Not all the powers of heaven or earth or hell? We have a sort of +blanket insurance against the whole universe?" + +"Exactly," said Madge. "We're future-proof." + +"That's it, future-proof. I'll wait here on the porch. No Fitzgerald, +mind." + +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. + +"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." + +Mrs. Gilson stood blinking harder than ever for one bewildered moment, +and then the floodgates of speech were opened. + +"Oh, my _dear_, how _wonderful_! Madge, my dearest Madge, let me kiss +you! Whoever could have _dreamed_--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 _thing_, 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...." + +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. + +"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." + +"The rein's caught over the shaft," explained Madge. "It makes her +uncomfortable. Though what, dear?" + +"That's the trace, and it's him, anyway. Oh, nothing. Only I never was +so awfully keen on slobbering." + +"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?" + +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--" + +"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. + +"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?" + +"Dick, I think. Oh, no--Kruger. Yes, he's that old." + +"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." + +"Good Lord," said Harry, struck by the thought. + +"Yes, and what's more, there still is!" + +"A true model for us?" + +"Yes. After all, we have no monopoly, you know." + +"Good Lord, think of it! Millions of others!" + +"It gives one a certain faith in the human race, doesn't it?" + +"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. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A VERY SHORT CHAPTER, IN ONE SENSE + + +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. + +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. + +"It's all right, Aunt Selina." He felt himself grinning like a monkey, +but couldn't seem to stop himself. + +But Aunt Selina herself could do nothing but laugh. Presently she rose +from her seat and embraced her nephew. + +"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. + +James' feet sounded on the stairs above. + +"I shan't be home for dinner," said Harry, starting toward the door. +"And you might tell Beatrice," he added. + +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. + +He chose the moment when they had all but reached the crossroad that +would take him off to the Gilsons'. + +"James," he said, breaking a long silence, "I've got something rather +important to tell you. I'm engaged." + +"To whom?" + +"Madge Elliston." + +"When?" + +"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. + +"Harry! See here, Harry--" + +"Yes, James!" + +"I ..." He stopped and then slowly raised his hand. "I congratulate +you." + +"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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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 other; kinder, certainly, but equally +impossible. It was not even a temptation. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +"Oh, yes, it's a good joke, God," he said aloud once or twice; "it's a +damned good joke." + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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 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.... + +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. + +"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." + +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 +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 _schoene Seele_ can put up with. + + * * * * * + +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? + +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. + +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 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. + +"Hullo," he said, listlessly sinking into a chair. "You've heard, I +suppose?" + +"Yes, I've heard." + +"Fine, isn't it?" + +"Oh, splendid." + +"I'm going to New York to-night," said James after a moment. + +"I'm going home next month," said Beatrice. + +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." + +"What for?" asked James at last. + +"For good." + +"But why?" he persisted, knowing perfectly well why, at bottom. + +"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. + +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? + +"I'm sorry, Beatrice," he said wretchedly; "I'm sorry--I didn't mean to +hurt you." + +"Oh, it's all right," she answered in his own tone of voice. Then for a +long time neither of them moved nor spoke. + +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, as their silence wore on, they began to be +conscious of a certain sense of companionship. + +"I suppose it's pretty bad?" ventured James at last, on a note of +tentative understanding. + +"I suppose it is...." + +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." + +Beatrice gazed immovably out over the sea. "You can't fight against +destiny," she said at last. + +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?" + +"I've tried for seven years." + +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. + +"I find it hard to believe that," he remarked; "I haven't seen the +slightest indication of such a thing." + +"No, of course not. How should you? I haven't advertised it, like a +prize fight!" + +"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...." + +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. + +"Cold?" she interrupted with a slight laugh. "Me--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?" + +"I suppose not, if you intend to go--" + +"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...." + +"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--" + +"With that sole purpose." + +"And you--you...." He fairly gasped. + +"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." + +"And all your work--the League--" + +"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. + +"But what about you and Aunt Selina? I always thought--" + +The smile faded. "Aunt Selina might lie dead at my feet, for all I +should care," she answered with another sudden burst of passion. "Oh, +no, not quite that. I suppose I like her as well as I can _like_ any +one. But that's the way it is, comparatively." + +"Yes. I know that feeling," said James meditatively. + +"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...." + +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 _pieta_. Beauty is never more +willing to come to us than when we want it least. + +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. + +"Beatrice," he said, "I don't mind saying I think it was rather +magnificent of you." + +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." + +"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." + +"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 devote my life to making a good wife for you,' it +would have been much better. But I wasn't brave enough for that." + +"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...." + +"What are you going to do now?" he asked after a pause. "After you get +home, I mean?" + +"I don't know. Work, I suppose, at something." + +"What--slums?" + +"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." + +"A stenographer!" + +"Or a matron in a home.--Why not? I must do something. I won't live with +Mama, that's flat." + +"You think you must go home, do you?" + +"You wouldn't expect me to stay here and--?" + +"No, but couldn't you find something to do here as well as there?" + +"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...." + +"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...?" + +"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 at her, and when he spoke again it was from a different +angle. + +"Beatrice, why have you been telling me all these things...?" + +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. + +"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?" + +"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. + +"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?..." + +"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!" + +That was all very well, but why did she weaken it by adding "I won't +listen to any more such talk," which 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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"It all sounds very well, James," she answered at last, "but it won't +do. I couldn't do it. Marriage...." + +"Well?" + +"Marriage is an ideal, you know, as well as--as a contract. I can't--I +won't have one without the other." + +"You are very particular. People as unpopular with chance as we are +can't afford to be particular." + +"It would be false to--to--oh, I don't know how to put it! To the best +in life." + +"Has the best in life been true to you?" + +"You are so bitter!" + +"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?" + +"I choose to follow them still!" + +"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...." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I was so lonely," she whispered at last, raising her welling eyes to +him. "I have been alone so long ... so long...." + +"James," she began again after a while, "life is so horrible, isn't +it?" + +"It is. Ghastly." + +"Oh, it _is_ good to find some one else who thinks so!" + +"Yes, I know." + +"Anything is good--_anything_--that makes it easier to forget, isn't +it?" + +"Yes. And we're going to try to forget together." + +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. + +"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. + +"Oh, as soon as possible.... Now--any time you say." + +"Yes, but when? When shall we tell people?" + +"Oh, not just yet...." she objected, almost automatically. + +"Why not? Why not right now--before the other?" + +"You think...?" + +"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. + +"And the other--the wedding? In about a fortnight, should you say?" + +"Oh, no, not for a month, at least. At the very least. It must be in +England, you see." + +"In England?" + +"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. + +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 call steamships and railroads by theirs, +and did. In a few minutes they had everything planned out. + +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: + +"Beatrice, don't you feel a sort of inspiration in fighting against +something you can't see?" + +"Yes, James," she answered slowly; "I believe I do--now." + +"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?" + +"Yes." + +"Inevitably?" + +"Yes." + +"Even if uselessly?" + +"Yes." Her eyes met his squarely enough; there was no sign of flinching +in them. + +"I'm glad you understand. For that's going to be our life, you know." + +"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. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ONE THING AND ANOTHER + + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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." + +That was all very well, if a little hard. James and Beatrice were both +undemonstrative, businesslike souls; the arrangement was quite +characteristic. + +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. + +"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. + +"I've been rather low, lately." + +"What--too much work?" + +"Oh, I don't know. It's nothing." + +"Not seasick, are you?" + +"I hope not." Both gave a slight snort expressive of amusement. This was +occasioned by the fact that Aunt 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. + +"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. + +"Oh, yes," said James, "it's one of the funniest things I can remember." + +"And the funniest part of it is that neither of us seems to have +suspected about the other. At least I didn't." + +"Oh, neither did I; not a thing." + +"And practically nobody else did either, apparently." + +"No. It might have been just the other way round, for all anybody +knew--you and Beatrice, and Madge and me." + +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. + +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:-- + +"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 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.' 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...." + +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 regime. 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. + +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. + + 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? _Four_ (heavily + underscored) most _exquisite_ (same business) linen sheets, + beautifully hemstitched and marked and from who ("Good + 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 + _millions_ and always go ahead and get the very best in the + _extravagantest_ 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! + + I run over and look in on Aunt Selina every time I get a + chance. She is _so_ 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! + + I must stop now, dearest, so good-night. Ever your own, + + MADGE. + + O O O O O O + + 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." + + 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 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? + + 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! + + 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. + + 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. + + 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. + + IO EL REY. + +Madge's reply to this missive was telegraphic in form and 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 _her_ to be sorry about." + +Another letter of Harry's, written a few weeks later, shows him in a +different mood: + + 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! + + 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! + + I am becoming obscure and rhapsodic. I seem to 'see' 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 + + HARRY! + + I love you with an intensity that beggars the power of human + expression. + + I did a bracket this afternoon. + +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! + +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.... + +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 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. + +And yet, and yet.... + +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? + +"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.... + + * * * * * + +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. + +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 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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 wedding at all, worth mentioning. Much better do it up +brown when you have the chance." + +"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 _could_ have something other than Lohengrin and +Mendelssohn I think I could face marriage with a little better heart. +What about it, dear?" + +Madge groaned. "Oh, anything! The Star-Spangled Banner, if you want!" + +"I think I can arrange it," said the organist smiling, and he played the +march from "Tannhaeuser" 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. + +"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. + +"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 _was_ rather a good wedding!" + +Which shows that he was just as biased as any one, at bottom! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +LABYRINTHS + + +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 _Halcyone_. Near what even in the sketch +was undoubtedly the largest and most comfortable of the _Halcyone's_ +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 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.... + +"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...." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Thanks, perhaps I will," replied Beatrice listlessly. + +"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...." + +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." + +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, 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 _Halcyone_, 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! + +"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!" + +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. + +"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...." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Oh, I don't want you to _bother_--! Only--" She was just a little taken +aback. This barren agreement, this lack of natural shyness, of blushes! +It was unprecedented in her experience. + +"Only what, Aunt Cecilia?" + +"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 +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?" + +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! + +"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...." + +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. + +"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 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...." + +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"--! + +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. + +"I hope, my dear, you don't think I mean anything...." + +"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." + +But Aunt Cecilia was afraid she had gone too far. + + * * * * * + +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 Yale families of the country. So on the afternoon before the +race the _Halcyone_ 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. + +"It's like being on the _Victory_ 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." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"How about it?" inquired James as he stood peering at his watch in the +dim light on deck. + +"Oh, just as you like," said Beatrice. + +"Well, I don't care. Say something." + +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. + +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.... + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +"Why did you leave it all, Tommy, if it amused you so?" + +"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?" + +Beatrice nodded. + +"Hot?" + +"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. + +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. + +"Whew! I say, is he often like that?" + +Beatrice laughed. Tommy _was_ 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.... + +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 +_is_ 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! + +Heavens! + +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 they might +be, on a definite business footing. To-night, even, if she did not +sleep.... + +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. + +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! + +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--_her_ 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. + +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.... + +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 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. + +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. + +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 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! + +"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." + +Beatrice smiled, but she thought Harry a little hard. + +"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." + +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! + +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. + +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 +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. + +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.... + +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.... + +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 +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. + +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.... + +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. + +But Tommy! Poor, good-natured, simple, ineffective Tommy! + +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. + +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! + +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. + +"You'd better dance with me first," he said. + +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 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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Oh, I wouldn't worry," said Harry. "Working in the city in summer is +hard on any one, of course." + +"I'm afraid it's more than that, and I want your help. You understand +James better than I do, I think." + +"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." + +"But a wife ought to be the Theseus of her husband's labyrinth, that's +the point." + +"Perhaps you're right. Here's hoping you don't find a minotaur in the +middle!" + +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. + +"Do you remember the last time we did this?" asked Tommy presently. + +"At the Dimchurches', the winter before I came here." + +"Didn't last long, though. You were the prettiest gell there." + +"I suppose I was.--And you were just Tommy Erskine then, and awfully +ineligible!" + +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. + +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. + +"We might take a stroll about," suggested Tommy presently. + +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. + +"It's really very jolly, isn't it?" she said at last. + +"Oh, rippin'," assented Tommy. + +"Perhaps you'd rather go in there now?" + +"No, no. Don't know the fellahs--I should feel out of it. Wiggers was +right.--Besides, I'd rather stay with you." + +Beatrice wondered if she had intended to make Tommy say that. + +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. + +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. + +"Jove!" he said reminiscently. "Haven't done that since Oxford." + +"What?" + +"That." He waved his head in the direction of the well populated +shadows. + +"Oh," answered Beatrice carelessly. The profound lack of interest in her +tone had its effect. + +"I did it to you once, by Jove! Remember?" + +"No. You never did, Tommy; you know that perfectly well." + +"Well, I will now, then!" + +He did. + +The next moment he rather wished he had not, Beatrice's slow smile of +contemptuous tolerance made him feel like such a child. + +"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." + +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. + +"Come along, Tommy," she said, rising; "it's time to go home." + +It was indeed late--long after twelve. The launch, as she remembered it, +was to make its last trip back to the 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +So Beatrice was shown into one room and Tommy into the other, the two +parting with a brief good night in the corridor. + +The first thing Beatrice noticed about the room was that 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. + +Then she rang for a chambermaid and asked for a nightgown and +toothbrush. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MR. AND MRS. ALFRED LAMMLE + + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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 the harbor. After the maid had left the +room and they sat over their coffee and cigarettes, James spoke. + +"About last night," he began, and stopped. + +"Yes?" said Beatrice encouragingly. + +"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--" + +"That what?" + +"That I have no objections." + +"To what?" Her bewilderment was not feigned. + +"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." + +"You don't understand at all!" Her manner was still one of bewilderment, +though possibly other feelings were beginning to enter. + +"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." + +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." + +"Divorce!" + +"Oh, very well, just as you like. Of course our marriage ceases to be +such from now on...." + +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! + +Then commonsense flared up, conquering anger and pride. No, she must not +give way to her pride; she must 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. + +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. + +"James, as I understand it, you think that I--that Tommy and I...." + +"Yes?" + +"Well, you've made a great mistake, that's all. You've condemned me +without a hearing. You've assumed that I was guilty--" + +"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!" + +"Very well, then, let us say you have made a mistake in facts." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"I mean--what should I mean? That Tommy and I are not lovers." + +"Well, what then?" + +"What then--?" + +"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." + +"James, you don't understand!" + +"What?" + +"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." + +"Certainly." He smiled. + +"Well, you were wrong. I haven't." + +"All right; I was wrong. You haven't." + +"Very well, then!" + +"Very well WHAT?" + +"James!" + +"I'm sorry.--But what are you driving at? I wasn't accusing you, you +know; I was simply telling you you were free, which you knew before, +and offering you more freedom if you wanted it. Why this outburst of +virtue?" + +"James, you are rather brutal!" + +"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?" + +"Oh, James! You understand so little--" + +"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!" + +"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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"Oh, Lord, I suppose you're right," he muttered, and began pacing the +room. + +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.... + +The maid popped in at the pantry door and popped out again. + +"All right, Mary, you can take the things," said Beatrice, and led the +way into the living room. + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"You must remember, however, that they were not fully acquainted with +the circumstances...." + +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 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. + +James spoke next. + +"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?" + +"I've no more idea than you, James." + +"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?" + +"Marriage, I take it." + +"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...." + +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. + +"No, James, no!" she interrupted hurriedly. "You weren't, really. That +was all nonsense--we both saw that...." + +"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!" + +"I don't particularly mind your being jealous, James, if that's any +comfort to you." + +"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!" + +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? + +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!... + +"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!..." + +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?... + +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 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. + +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. + +"James--" + +"No, not now, please; I want to think." + +And his shoulder remained a piece of tweed under her hand; he did not +even bother to shake her off. + +She sat down again to wait. + +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. + +"Is that all, James?" she ventured at length. + +He put down his book and looked up with the manner of one making a great +effort to be reasonable. + +"What do you want, Beatrice?" + +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. + +"We can't leave things as they are, can we?" + +"Why not? Haven't we said too much already?" + +"Too much for peace, but not enough for satisfaction. We can't leave +things hanging in the air this way." + +"Very well, then, if you insist. How shall we begin?" + +"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." + +"All right. What do you consider the terms of our bargain to be?" + +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. + +"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...." + +"Certainly." + +"And if we give the impression of being happy together we've gone a good +way toward that end." + +"Yes, that's logical." + +"Well--?" + +"What?" + +"It's your turn now, isn't it?" + +"Oh, no; you've begun so well you'd better go on." + +"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 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...." + +She feared the phrasing of that thought was a little unfortunate, and +broke off suddenly with: "But perhaps I'm boring you?" + +"No, no--I'm very much interested. How do you think we ought to go about +it?" + +"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." + +"As we have been this evening, for example?" + +The cynical note rang in his voice, the note she most dreaded. + +"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!" + +"Yes, and it's cleared you too. But what about me?" + +"I don't understand." + +"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...." + +"Only because you're overtired, James...." + +"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." + +"James, my dear, don't be so bitter! I'm not blaming you. I can forget +all that!" + +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. + +"That's awfully decent of you, Beatrice, but the trouble is I can't +forget. Those things stay in the memory, and 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." + +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. + +"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--" + +"Then why--Oh, Lord!" He stopped himself and sank forward in despair +with his head on his hands. + +"Well, go on and say it." + +"No, no." + +"Yes. It's better that way." + +"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!" + +"Oh, James!" + +"Yes, that's just it! It's the devil in me!" + +"When that was all over, James!" + +"All over! Then there was something!... Oh, good _Lord_! We can't go +through it all over again!" + +"James, I meant that you were all over feeling that--" + +"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!..." + +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. + +"See here, Beatrice!" + +"Yes?" + +"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 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?" + +"What sort of things?" + +"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?" + +"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?" + +"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!" + +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. + +"Then you definitely give up every effort toward a better +understanding?" + +"Yes!" + +"And you prefer, once for all, to be strangers rather than friends?" + +"Strangers don't squabble!" + +"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." + +"No, no--don't get blaming yourself. It's such a cheap form of +satisfaction." + +She stood looking at him a moment with coldly glittering eyes. + +"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." + +"There is." + +"At last we agree. Husbands and wives should always agree. Good-night, +James." + +"Good-night," + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HESITANCIES AND TEARS + + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 debutante 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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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.... + +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 hammock +on the broad verandah, luxuriating in the sea breeze that made a light +wrap necessary. + +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? + +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. + +Presently she began to discover--or fancy she discovered--hitherto +unsounded depths--or what were, comparatively speaking, depths--in +Tommy's character. + +"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 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.... + +"Rather sad, isn't it?" he added after a moment. + +"Sad? Why?" + +"Well, other people have something better than an old beast's blinkers +to compare stars to. Women's eyes, you know, and all that." + +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. + +"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?" + +"Well," answered Tommy with laborious truthfulness, "I suppose they +really _look_ more like tiger's eyes. But they make me _think_ of +stars," he added, with a perfect burst of romance and poetry. + +"And stars make you think of tiger's eyes! Oh, my poor Tommy!" + +"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. + +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 last resort, what of it? What had she to lose--now? + +Nothing. Not one earthly thing. She was free to glean where she could. + +James would be glad--as glad as any one. + +Though of course it had not come to that yet.... + +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. + +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. + +"I say, Beatrice," he began when they were settled in their customary +place. + +"Yes, Tommy?" + +"How long do you suppose your aunt wants me kickin' my heels about +here?" + +"Oh, as long as you want, I suppose. She hasn't told me she was tired of +you." + +"Yes, but ..." + +"But what?" + +"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...." + +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. + +"Not that I _want_ to go, you know. Jolly pleasant here, and all +that--rippin' golf, rippin' people, rippin' time altogether...." + +He felt himself perspiring profusely. + +"Beatrice, do you know _why_ I don't want to go?" he burst forth. + +Beatrice remained silent, lightly tapping the stone balustrade with her +foot. When she spoke it was with perfect self-possession. + +"You're not going to be tiresome again, are you, Tommy?" + +"Yes!" said Tommy fervently. + +Again she paused. "Are you really fond of me, Tommy?" she asked +unexpectedly. + +"Oh, Lord, yes!" + +"How fond?" + +"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. + +"I didn't mean how much, exactly, but in what way? What do you mean by +it all?" + +"What's the use of asking me? You know!" + +"No, I don't think I do.... Are you fond enough of me to desire +everything for my good?" + +"Yes!" + +"Even at the sacrifice of yourself?" + +"Yes!" + +"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?" + +"What the--Beatrice, don't torment me!" + +"I don't want to, but you must see how impossible it is, Tommy. You +can't go on talking this way to me." + +"Why not?" + +"Why, because I'm _married_, obviously! Such things are--well, they +simply aren't done!" + +Tommy waited a moment. "Do you mean to say, Beatrice...." + +"What?" + +"Can you truthfully tell me that you--that you aren't fond of me too? +Just a little?" + +"Certainly!" + +"Rot! Utter, senseless rot! You know it isn't so!--" + +"Hush, Tommy! People will hear." + +"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 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?" + +That shaft hit. She lost her head a little, and fell back on an old +feminine ruse. + +"Oh, Tommy, you've no right to bring that up against me!" she said, with +a little flurried break in her voice. + +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. + +"I'm sorry, Beatrice," he went on again after a short silence, "but +I--well, dash it all, I _care_, you know!" + +"You mustn't, Tommy." + +"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 _fond_ +of you, Beatrice!" + +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." + +Evidently it had not quite come to _that_ with her. + +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. + +James allowed that it had. + +Aunt Selina said she had read in the paper that August was likely to be +as hot as July there. + +Beatrice, just in order to be on the safe side, said that she felt like +Rather a Brute. + +Tommy, with a vague idea of vindicating her, remarked that some days +had been jolly warm in Bar Harbor, too. + +Aunt Cecilia, politely reproachful, said that he had no idea what an +American summer could be, and that anyway, the nights had been cool. + +Tommy said oh yes, rather. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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 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.... + +"Beatrice," began Tommy, but she switched him off. + +"No, please don't try to talk now, Tommy, there's a dear." + +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?... + +"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 +_can't_ stand by and watch it any longer!" + +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. + +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. + +"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 _me_ 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! _He'll_ be glad enough to free you--trust him! Oh, +dear Beatrice...." + +He bent close over her, uttering all sort of impassioned 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. + +And Beatrice was limp in his arms, as little able to stop him as to stop +her tears. + +"Beatrice, we must go on _always_ like this! We _can't_ go back now, we +can't let things go on as they were! Come away with me, Beatrice, +to-night, now...." + +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. + +At last she dried her eyes and pushed him gently away. + +"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...." + +"But, Beatrice--" + +"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." + +They sat quietly together for some time. At last Beatrice rose. + +"I think I'll go," she said. "I shall be all right now." + +"But we can't leave it like this!" protested Tommy. "Beatrice, you can't +go up there now...." + +"Can't I? I'm going, though." + +"No, you've got to give me an answer, Beatrice!" + +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." + +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, 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. + +"After half-past twelve," he said. "Quite a pleasant evening." + +Beatrice made no observation. + +"The air has done you good," he went on. "We shall soon see the roses in +your cheeks again." + +"If you have anything to say, James, perhaps you'd better go ahead and +say it." + +"I? Oh, dear no! Any words of mine would be quite superfluous. The +situation is complete as it is." + +Beatrice merely waited. She knew she would not wait in vain, nor did +she. + +"Only, after this perhaps you'll save yourself the trouble of making up +elaborate denials. You and your Tommy!..." + +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. + +At last James spoke. At the first sound of his voice Beatrice knew. + +"I shall receive a telegram calling me back to town to-morrow, in time +for me to catch the evening train...." + +She was so occupied with the ultimate meaning of his words that their +immediate meaning escaped her. She raised her eyes in question. + +"You're going away to-morrow? Why?" + +"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...." + +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. + +"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.... + +"Just a year--not even that. I should have said it could go longer than +that, even at the worst.... + +"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.... + +"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.... + +"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. + +"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. + +"Well, we might as well go to bed, I suppose. It will be the last +time...." + +Beatrice watched him as he took off his coat and waistcoat and threw +them over a chair and then attacked his collar and tie. Then she arose +from where she sat and addressed him. + +"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.... + +"You've been a very wicked man to-night, James. May God forgive you for +it." + +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. + +"It seems an absurd thing to ask," she said, "but would you mind? As you +say, it's the last time...." + +"Certainly," said James. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A ROD OF IRON + + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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!... + +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. + +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.... + +That left only the night hours to be accounted for, and 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. + +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 _that_ sort, if +you please; he would be at the station himself to see to it. + +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. + +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 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. + +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.... + +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. + +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 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...." + +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 +_really_ important had happened somebody might occasionally buy them. + +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 _he_ 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--! + +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. + +There it all was, in black and white--or rather red and white. Red +letters, five inches high. + +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. + +The Maine Special. Beatrice's train. + +He knew that he must devote all his efforts at this juncture to keep +himself from thinking. Until he knew, that 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 _find out_. + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +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.... + +And no one else had even noticed the two. + +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. + +James asked the young man if he could see Mr. Barker, the agent. + +The young man said Mr. Barker was busy, and asked James what paper he +represented. + +James said none. + +On what business, then, did James want to see Mr. Barker? + +To learn the fate of some one on the Maine Special. + +A friend? + +A wife. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"Best sob stuff in months," was his one comment. + +Just then one of their number, a slightly older man and evidently a +leader among them, emerged from the inner office. + +"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...." + +Harpies! + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"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...." + +Sob stuff! + +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. + +"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. + +These were the first of a long series of scenes such as 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! + +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! + +"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." + +"One young woman among the injured was identified as Miss Fannie Schmidt +of Brooklyn. She was taken to the Stamford hospital suffering from +contusions." + +"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...." + +"Vice-President Henry T. Blomberg gave out in New Haven this morning the +following statement concerning the accident at Stamford...." + +"Whew!" exclaimed a reporter, issuing suddenly from a telephone booth +near James, "this is _some_ 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. + +"Oh, you'd call this harrowing, would you?" said James. + +"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!" + +"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." + +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 _business_ 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!" + +"You mean you're glad you don't know any one on the train?" + +"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!" + +This gave James something more to think about. + +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? + +There was a moment of calm in the room, which was broken by the +entrance of a tall blonde young man--a college undergraduate, to all +appearances. + +"Can any of you tell me if Car 1058 was on the Maine Special?" he asked +the reporters. + +No one had heard of Car 1058. Research among the bulletins failed to +reveal any mention of it. + +"What's the name of the person you're interested in?" asked some one. +"We might be able to tell you something." + +"Oh, it wasn't any _person_," 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?" + +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. + +The youth flushed to the roots of his yellow hair. + +"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. + +"Say, there's copy in that," observed one reporter, and straightway they +were all busy writing. + +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.... + +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. + +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!... + +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. + +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. + +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.... + +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. + +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. + +Presently he saw her, or rather a hat which he recognized 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. + +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. + +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. + +"No, that list is not complete," said the man. + +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. + +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: + +"Your son is all right, is he?" + +"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!" + +"Not at all," replied James. "I'm so glad--" He started to move on, but +the woman stopped him, suddenly remembering. + +"But what about--I do hope--" she began. + +"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? + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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.... + +No use. Something in his brain refused to work. + +He tore open the envelope. "Beatrice left last night on the seven +o'clock ferry; nothing more known. Please wire latest news," he read. + +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. + +Uncle James, who was in town on business, dropped in during the evening. +James told him the results of his labors and watched the first +hopefulness of his uncle's face freeze gradually into conviction. + +"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--" + +"Thank you," replied James gravely, "there's nothing more to be done." + +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. + +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. + +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, a few papers bearing his signatures in McClellan's files.... + +Poor Beatrice! + +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. + +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.... + +"Poor Beatrice," he murmured, "is pity all I can feel for you?" + +A bell sounded somewhere, the front door bell. He scarcely noticed it. + +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! + +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. + +But that Tommy should be chief mourner! Poor Beatrice!... + +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. + +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. + +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.... + +Aunt Selina. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +RED FLAME + + +"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. + +"Yes, Aunt Selina, I'm afraid it's true." + +"Is there no hope, no chance--" + +"None, that I can see." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"From Boston." + +"Boston?" + +"I took the boat to Boston last night. I learned of the accident there. +I supposed she was safe--the papers said nothing." + +"Yes, I know. But--but how did you happen to leave Bar Harbor at all?" + +"I was going to meet her here." + +"Her?" + +"Beatrice." + +"I don't understand." + +"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. + +"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. + +"James, I've got to tell you a few things about Beatrice. Some things I +don't believe you know. Do you mind?" + +"No," said James slowly, "I don't know that I do." + +"Well, in the first place, I suppose you thought she was in love with +that Englishman?" + +James nodded. + +"Well, she wasn't--not one particle. Whatever else may or may not be +true, that is. She despised him." + +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." + +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. + +"Then perhaps, Aunt Selina, you can account for certain things...." + +"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?" + +"Nothing." + +"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. + +"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. + +"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 _feel_ +things. The only wonder is that nobody else guessed. It seemed +incredible to me, who was 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. + +"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.... + +"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. + +"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. + +"'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.' + +"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!' + +"'You have an immortal soul,' said I; 'you can hurt that.' + +"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 that I was prepared to go down on my knees before her, +when the time came.... + +"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.... + +"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?" + +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: + +"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. + +"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 _real_ man. I laughed when I said it, but I meant it. + +"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." + +James stirred slightly. Aunt Selina smiled. + +"Yes, you've heard of him, of course. It gives one a 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. + +"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. + +"'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.' + +"'What do you mean by a ready-made man?' he asked, looking at me out of +his quiet gray eyes. + +"'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.' + +"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.' + +"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 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 _like_ you none the +less. Only I can't marry you.' + +"'But I don't see what difference all this would make,' he said, 'if you +only loved me.' + +"'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!' + +"'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. + +"'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!' + +"He flushed at that. 'A man can't change his age, Selina; you have no +right to taunt me with that.' + +"'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.' + +"'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. + +"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. + +"It was perfectly evident, even to me, that he was working 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. + +"'Congratulate me, Selina,' he said; 'I've just got my appointment.' + +"'Appointment?' said I. I truthfully had no idea what he was talking +about. + +"'Yes,' he went on, 'I begin work on the board next week.' + +"'What board?' + +"'Why, the tax board--the city tax board. Surely you knew?' + +"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. + +"'It's splendid, of course,' I added. 'I do congratulate you, indeed, +most heartily. Only--only Milton, you were so serious!' + +"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? + +"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.' + +"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. + +"'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. 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. + +"'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.' + +"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!' + +"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.... + +"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. + +"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. + +"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 of +about my own age. It certainly occurred to her then. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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 wouldn't have touched him with my foot--I'm sure of +it. But there never was any sixth month. + +"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. + +"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!' + +"'Why?'I asked. + +"'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--' + +"'No, I shouldn't,' said I. 'I wouldn't be real if I did.' + +"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!' + +"'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?' + +"'You admit that I'm not real to you, then?' + +"'No,' said I, 'but it would be your own fault if you weren't.' + +"'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. + +"I don't know whether it was pure accident or whether 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. + +"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.... + +"'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!' + +"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. + +"He opened the telegram and read it, gravely and silently. + +"'Is it or is it not from Milton Leffert?' + +"'Yes. He--' + +"'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!' + +"Adrian hesitated. He seemed almost frightened. 'But--' he began. + +"'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. + +"'Adrian, look at me! Do you love me?' + +"He allowed that he did. + +"'Then do what I say. Destroy that telegram and never mention it or that +man's name to me again!' + +"A change came over him. He hesitated no longer; he became forceful and +determined. + +"'Very well,' he cried, 'if you're not mine now you will be! Here's +good-by to Milton Leffert!' + +"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.... + +"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. + +"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. + +"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?' + +"'What is sad?' asked my stepmother. + +"'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.... + +"As soon as I could I took Adrian off alone. + +"'Adrian,' I said, 'the time has come when you've got to tell me what +was in that telegram.' + +"'Never,' said he, smiling. 'I promised, you know,' + +"'I release you from your promise.' + +"'Even so, I can't tell you.' + +"'Adrian,' said I, looking him full in the face, 'Milton Leffert is +dead.' + +"'I'm sorry to hear it,' said he. + +"I blazed up at that. 'Stop lying to me,' I cried, 'and tell me what was +in that telegram!' + +"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.... + +"'Well, have you nothing to say to me?' he asked. + +"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. + +"'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.' + +"'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?' + +"'It was because I loved you so much that I did it,' he said. + +"'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?' + +"'You might have saved his life,' he answered. + +"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. + +"I told my stepmother everything as soon as I could and 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. + +"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. + +"'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.... + +"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. + +"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 +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.... + +"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. + +"'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. + +"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...." + + * * * * * + +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: + +"Well, James, I told this to Beatrice, much as I've told 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. + +"'You lived through all that?' she said at last, 'and you never told any +one?' + +"'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.' + +"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. + +"'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!' + +"She didn't answer, but sat staring at the floor. + +"'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!' + +"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 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!...' + +"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:-- + +"'Aunt Selina, I don't think you quite understand about my marriage with +James. It isn't like other marriages, exactly.' + +"'It seems to me enough that it is a marriage,' I answered. 'Though I +haven't spoken of that side of it, of course.' + +"'Oh, you won't understand!' she said. + +"'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.' + +"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. + +"'Aunt Selina,' she said, 'you have made me think of one thing.' + +"'What's that, my dear?' I asked. + +"'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!' + +"'It's possible, my dear,' said I, 'but you haven't done anything that +you can't still make up for, if you want.' + +"'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 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!' + +"'That never did any one any harm,' I told her. + +"'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?' + +"Well, I knew I'd won a great point in making her even consider it. + +"'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!' + +"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. + +"'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. + +"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! + +"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. + +"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. + +"'Yes, I'm going,' she answered. + +"'What do you mean by that?' I asked. + +"'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. + +"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! + +"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 never +knew_! And now I never shall!..." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A POTTER'S VESSEL + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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...." + +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. + +"Well, my dear, you don't want to be bothered by a hysterical old woman +at this time," said Aunt Selina finally, and James obediently +telephoned, for a taxi. Nemesis must be met, sooner or later.... + +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. + +"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!" + +"No, Aunt Selina, no," he replied, laying his hand on hers and speaking +with a promptness and a fervor that surprised himself. + +"One thing," she began just before they drew up at the hotel. + +"Yes?" + +"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!" + +"Yes," said James. "Thank you, Aunt Selina." + +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. + +He walked straight into the bedroom. + +"Well, I've done you an injustice," he said aloud. "I misjudged you. I'm +sorry." + +"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. + +"Oh, you know what I _mean_," 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. + +"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. + +"Not by a long shot," said Nemesis, or words to that effect. + +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. + +"I really don't know what to do," he admitted at last. "Suppose"--he was +appealing to Beatrice now--"suppose you tell me what." + +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. + +"Don't you laugh at me, when I'm trying my best!" he cried. + +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. + +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.... + +The glass was smashed to atoms, but the picture itself was unhurt. No, +there was a cut across the face. + +"Oh, I've hurt her, I've hurt Beatrice!" he whispered. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Somehow it did no such thing.... + + * * * * * + +Of course what Nemesis wanted was a confession that he 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. + +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. + +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.... + +Railroad wheels. + +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 +_he_ was going to discover something too late--_that_? It was too late +for something already, but surely not for that! Just think--Aunt Selina +had found out too late, and Beatrice had found out too late, and now.... + +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! + +"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.... + +"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!" + +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.... + +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. + +"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...." + +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. + +He fell on his knees beside the bed--her bed--and tried to pray. +Nothing came to his lips but the words he had so long disdained to say, +uttered now with a fierce sweet jubilation: + +"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...." + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE TIDE TURNS + + +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. + +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.... + +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. + +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. + +"Nothing?" he asked. + +"Nothing. But don't give up yet." + +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 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.... + +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. + +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.... + +Tommy! + +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. + +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. Tommy was a +better man than he was; he took a morbid joy in thinking how much +better. + +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. + +"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. + +"No, of course not. Why should I?" + +"I only thought--seeing you here--" + +"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?" + +James was so penitent for having hurt Tommy that he did not at first +notice the implication in his words. + +"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...." + +"_What?_" Tommy cocked his eyebrows incredulously, with a sort of +fierceness. "Hope of what?" + +"Why, that Beatrice was still alive." + +"Still alive? What on earth--! What makes you think she isn't?" + +"Do you mean to say--" + +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. + +"I got this yesterday morning--that's all I know. I haven't been able to +destroy the damned thing...." + +James took it and opened it. A telegram:-- + + It's all off, Tommy. Please go away and forgive me if you can. + Beatrice. + +He looked at the date at the top. Boston, 8:37 A. M. Boston! The Maine +Special did not go into Boston; Beatrice had left it before--before.... + +"Tommy," he said faintly, "Tommy, I--" His head swam; he felt himself +reeling. + +"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. + +"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--" + +"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...." + +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?" + +"Yes--Chicago." (He pronounced it _Shickago_. 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.) + +"Well, Tommy, see here--" + +"Yes?" + +"It may sound silly to you, but--come and see us some time!" + +"Righto. Not now, though--got to see the country--train leaves in two +minutes. See America first, wot? Good-by!" and he was off. + +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. + +When he reached his apartment his physical strength 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. + +After that James sat down in an armchair and for a long time remained +there, reduced to an inarticulate pulp of joy. + +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 _him_!... + +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! + + * * * * * + +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.... + +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 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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She telegraphed immediately to Aunt Cecilia and then, after some +thought, to James. It seemed the thing to do, 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.... + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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.... + +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.... + +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 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.... + +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. + +"It's nice to see you, James; did you have a good journey?" + +"Yes, very, thanks. You comfortable here?" + +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! + +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.... + +"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?" + +"Why, James," said Beatrice gently, "dear James, there's nothing to +forgive." + +Then he looked up and saw there were tears on her cheeks.... + +Yes, right there in the open road! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +REINSTATEMENT OF A SCHOeNE SEELE + + +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. + +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. + +Harry suddenly burst through the glass door leading from the house and +flopped into a chair. His appearance was informal. The others turned +toward him with curious nostrils. + +"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." + +"I am smoking," said Beatrice calmly, "because I want to, and for no +other reason." + +"And I," observed Madge, "because Harry doesn't want me to." + +"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--" + +"Yes," said James, "we've guessed that." + +"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." + +"Can't Harker feed the piggywigs?" inquired Beatrice. + +"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." + +"Just as if you didn't cry every night to feed your old pigs!" retorted +her husband. + +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." + +"Better manna than manners," murmured Harry, and for a while there was a +profound silence. + +"What about a stroll before tea?" presently suggested the happy farmer. + +"I should like to," said James. "We'll have to make it short, though." + +"Very well. What about the others--the fair swine-herd?" + +"I think not," answered the person referred to, smiling up at him. "I +took quite a long walk before lunch, you know." + +"Oh, yes," said Harry, blushing for no apparent reason. "Beatrice?" + +Beatrice preferred to stay with Madge. + +"You see," said Harry when the two had gone a little way; "you see, the +fact is, Madge--hm. Madge--" + +"You mean," said James, smiling, "there is hope of a new generation of +our illustrious house?" + +"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." + +"I wonder," mused James, "how many times you have named it since you +first heard." + +"There have been several suggestions," admitted Harry, laughing. "I +really think it will end by that, though." + +"Jaqueline--quite a pretty name. Much prettier than James--I rather hope +it will be a girl." + +"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.... + +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. + +"James," he said, "we're getting on, aren't we? I 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 _feel_ it. It's a sensation +all by itself, isn't it?" + +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--" + +"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." + +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." + +"Oh, rot! Did you think I meant you?" + +"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 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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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!" + +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 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." + +"Well, as long as it does, you needn't," said James. + +"Oh, I see! That makes it quite simple, of course!" + +"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!" + +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?" + +"A few weeks under, I believe." + +"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!" + +"You're not afraid of the future, though, are you?" asked James after a +pause. + +"Oh, no--that would never do. I feel about it as.... One can't say these +things without sounding cocksure and insufferable!" + +"You mean you'll do your best under the circumstances?" + +"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 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." + +"Yes," said James; "I know." + +"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." + +"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.... + +"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." + +"Funny is the word," said Harry. + +"But perfectly true. I should never have come through--all this business +if it hadn't been for you." + +"Look here, James, you're not going to thank me for saving your soul, +are you? That would be a little forced!" + +"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." + +"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...." + +"Yes," said James, "and the process of rediscovering had some rather +lively passages in it, if I remember right." + +"It did! But it was a good thing; it gave us a new interest in each +other. One reason why people are commonly 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." + +"I see; a new way of being a credit to ourselves. Well, most of it's on +my side, I imagine." + +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." + +"Oh, rot, man!" + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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." + +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: + +"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...." + + * * * * * + +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. + + + + + +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.txt or 37906.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. 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