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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 Shuttle + +Author: Frances Hodgson Burnett + +Release Date: March 18, 2006 [EBook #506] +Last Updated: March 2, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHUTTLE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SHUTTLE + </h1> + <h2> + By Frances Hodgson Burnett + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>THE SHUTTLE</b></big> </a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </td> + <td> + THE WEAVING OF THE SHUTTLE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </td> + <td> + A LACK OF PERCEPTION + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </td> + <td> + YOUNG LADY ANSTRUTHERS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </td> + <td> + A MISTAKE OF THE POSTBOY'S + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </td> + <td> + ON BOTH SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </td> + <td> + AN UNFAIR ENDOWMENT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </td> + <td> + ON BOARD THE "MERIDIANA" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </td> + <td> + THE SECOND-CLASS PASSENGER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </td> + <td> + LADY JANE GREY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </td> + <td> + "IS LADY ANSTRUTHERS AT HOME?" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </td> + <td> + "I THOUGHT YOU HAD ALL FORGOTTEN." + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </td> + <td> + UGHTRED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </td> + <td> + ONE OF THE NEW YORK DRESSES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </td> + <td> + IN THE GARDENS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </td> + <td> + THE FIRST MAN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </td> + <td> + THE PARTICULAR INCIDENT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </td> + <td> + TOWNLINSON & SHEPPARD + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </td> + <td> + THE FIFTEENTH EARL OF MOUNT DUNSTAN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </td> + <td> + SPRING IN BOND STREET + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </td> + <td> + THINGS OCCUR IN STORNHAM VILLAGE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </td> + <td> + KEDGERS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </td> + <td> + ONE OF MR. VANDERPOEL'S LETTERS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </td> + <td> + INTRODUCING G. SELDEN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </td> + <td> + THE POLITICAL ECONOMY OF STORNHAM + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </td> + <td> + "WE BEGAN TO MARRY THEM, MY GOOD FELLOW!" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </td> + <td> + "WHAT IT MUST BE TO YOU-JUST YOU!" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </td> + <td> + LIFE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </td> + <td> + SETTING THEM THINKING + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </td> + <td> + THE THREAD OF G. SELDEN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </td> + <td> + A RETURN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </td> + <td> + NO, SHE WOULD NOT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a> + </td> + <td> + A GREAT BALL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a> + </td> + <td> + FOR LADY JANE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> + </td> + <td> + RED GODWYN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a> + </td> + <td> + THE TIDAL WAVE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a> + </td> + <td> + BY THE ROADSIDE EVERYWHERE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a> + </td> + <td> + CLOSED CORRIDORS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a> + </td> + <td> + AT SHANDY'S + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a> + </td> + <td> + ON THE MARSHES + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a> + </td> + <td> + "DON'T GO ON WITH THIS" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a> + </td> + <td> + SHE WOULD DO SOMETHING + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a> + </td> + <td> + IN THE BALLROOM + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII </a> + </td> + <td> + HIS CHANCE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV </a> + </td> + <td> + A FOOTSTEP + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV </a> + </td> + <td> + THE PASSING BELL + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XLVI </a> + </td> + <td> + LISTENING + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XLVII </a> + </td> + <td> + "I HAVE NO WORD OR LOOK TO REMEMBER" + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0048"> CHAPTER XLVIII </a> + </td> + <td> + THE MOMENT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0049"> CHAPTER XLIX </a> + </td> + <td> + AT STORNHAM AND AT BROADMORLANDS + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0050"> CHAPTER L </a> + </td> + <td> + THE PRIMEVAL THING + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE SHUTTLE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + THE WEAVING OF THE SHUTTLE + </h3> + <p> + No man knew when the Shuttle began its slow and heavy weaving from shore + to shore, that it was held and guided by the great hand of Fate. Fate + alone saw the meaning of the web it wove, the might of it, and its place + in the making of a world's history. Men thought but little of either web + or weaving, calling them by other names and lighter ones, for the time + unconscious of the strength of the thread thrown across thousands of miles + of leaping, heaving, grey or blue ocean. + </p> + <p> + Fate and Life planned the weaving, and it seemed mere circumstance which + guided the Shuttle to and fro between two worlds divided by a gulf broader + and deeper than the thousands of miles of salt, fierce sea—the gulf + of a bitter quarrel deepened by hatred and the shedding of brothers' + blood. Between the two worlds of East and West there was no will to draw + nearer. Each held apart. Those who had rebelled against that which their + souls called tyranny, having struggled madly and shed blood in tearing + themselves free, turned stern backs upon their unconquered enemies, broke + all cords that bound them to the past, flinging off ties of name, kinship + and rank, beginning with fierce disdain a new life. + </p> + <p> + Those who, being rebelled against, found the rebels too passionate in + their determination and too desperate in their defence of their + strongholds to be less than unconquerable, sailed back haughtily to the + world which seemed so far the greater power. Plunging into new battles, + they added new conquests and splendour to their land, looking back with + something of contempt to the half-savage West left to build its own + civilisation without other aid than the strength of its own strong right + hand and strong uncultured brain. + </p> + <p> + But while the two worlds held apart, the Shuttle, weaving slowly in the + great hand of Fate, drew them closer and held them firm, each of them all + unknowing for many a year, that what had at first been mere threads of + gossamer, was forming a web whose strength in time none could compute, + whose severance could be accomplished but by tragedy and convulsion. + </p> + <p> + The weaving was but in its early and slow-moving years when this story + opens. Steamers crossed and recrossed the Atlantic, but they accomplished + the journey at leisure and with heavy rollings and all such discomforts as + small craft can afford. Their staterooms and decks were not crowded with + people to whom the voyage was a mere incident—in many cases a yearly + one. “A crossing” in those days was an event. It was planned + seriously, long thought of, discussed and re-discussed, with and among the + various members of the family to which the voyager belonged. A certain + boldness, bordering on recklessness, was almost to be presupposed in the + individual who, turning his back upon New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and + like cities, turned his face towards “Europe.” In those days + when the Shuttle wove at leisure, a man did not lightly run over to + London, or Paris, or Berlin, he gravely went to “Europe.” + </p> + <p> + The journey being likely to be made once in a lifetime, the traveller's + intention was to see as much as possible, to visit as many cities + cathedrals, ruins, galleries, as his time and purse would allow. People + who could speak with any degree of familiarity of Hyde Park, the Champs + Elysees, the Pincio, had gained a certain dignity. The ability to touch + with an intimate bearing upon such localities was a raison de plus for + being asked out to tea or to dinner. To possess photographs and relics was + to be of interest, to have seen European celebrities even at a distance, + to have wandered about the outside of poets' gardens and philosophers' + houses, was to be entitled to respect. The period was a far cry from the + time when the Shuttle, having shot to and fro, faster and faster, week by + week, month by month, weaving new threads into its web each year, has + woven warp and woof until they bind far shore to shore. + </p> + <p> + It was in comparatively early days that the first thread we follow was + woven into the web. Many such have been woven since and have added greater + strength than any others, twining the cord of sex and home-building and + race-founding. But this was a slight and weak one, being only the thread + of the life of one of Reuben Vanderpoel's daughters—the pretty + little simple one whose name was Rosalie. + </p> + <p> + They were—the Vanderpoels—of the Americans whose fortunes were + a portion of the history of their country. The building of these fortunes + had been a part of, or had created epochs and crises. Their millions could + scarcely be regarded as private property. Newspapers bandied them about, + so to speak, employing them as factors in argument, using them as figures + of speech, incorporating them into methods of calculation. Literature + touched upon them, moral systems considered them, stories for the young + treated them gravely as illustrative. + </p> + <p> + The first Reuben Vanderpoel, who in early days of danger had traded with + savages for the pelts of wild animals, was the lauded hero of stories of + thrift and enterprise. Throughout his hard-working life he had been + irresistibly impelled to action by an absolute genius of commerce, + expressing itself at the outset by the exhibition of courage in mere + exchange and barter. An alert power to perceive the potential value of + things and the possible malleability of men and circumstances, had stood + him in marvellous good stead. He had bought at low prices things which in + the eyes of the less discerning were worthless, but, having obtained + possession of such things, the less discerning had almost invariably + awakened to the fact that, in his hands, values increased, and methods of + remunerative disposition, being sought, were found. Nothing remained + unutilisable. The practical, sordid, uneducated little man developed the + power to create demand for his own supplies. If he was betrayed into an + error, he quickly retrieved it. He could live upon nothing and + consequently could travel anywhere in search of such things as he desired. + He could barely read and write, and could not spell, but he was daring and + astute. His untaught brain was that of a financier, his blood burned with + the fever of but one desire—the desire to accumulate. Money + expressed to his nature, not expenditure, but investment in such small or + large properties as could be resold at profit in the near or far future. + The future held fascinations for him. He bought nothing for his own + pleasure or comfort, nothing which could not be sold or bartered again. He + married a woman who was a trader's daughter and shared his passion for + gain. She was of North of England blood, her father having been a + hard-fisted small tradesman in an unimportant town, who had been daring + enough to emigrate when emigration meant the facing of unknown dangers in + a half-savage land. She had excited Reuben Vanderpoel's admiration by + taking off her petticoat one bitter winter's day to sell it to a squaw in + exchange for an ornament for which she chanced to know another squaw would + pay with a skin of value. The first Mrs. Vanderpoel was as wonderful as + her husband. They were both wonderful. They were the founders of the + fortune which a century and a half later was the delight—in fact the + piece de resistance—of New York society reporters, its enormity + being restated in round figures when a blank space must be filled up. The + method of statement lent itself to infinite variety and was always + interesting to a particular class, some elements of which felt it + encouraging to be assured that so much money could be a personal + possession, some elements feeling the fact an additional argument to be + used against the infamy of monopoly. + </p> + <p> + The first Reuben Vanderpoel transmitted to his son his accumulations and + his fever for gain. He had but one child. The second Reuben built upon the + foundations this afforded him, a fortune as much larger than the first as + the rapid growth and increasing capabilities of the country gave him + enlarging opportunities to acquire. It was no longer necessary to deal + with savages: his powers were called upon to cope with those of white men + who came to a new country to struggle for livelihood and fortune. Some + were shrewd, some were desperate, some were dishonest. But shrewdness + never outwitted, desperation never overcame, dishonesty never deceived the + second Reuben Vanderpoel. Each characteristic ended by adapting itself to + his own purposes and qualities, and as a result of each it was he who in + any business transaction was the gainer. It was the common saying that the + Vanderpoels were possessed of a money-making spell. Their spell lay in + their entire mental and physical absorption in one idea. Their peculiarity + was not so much that they wished to be rich as that Nature itself impelled + them to collect wealth as the load-stone draws towards it iron. Having + possessed nothing, they became rich, having become rich they became + richer, having founded their fortunes on small schemes, they increased + them by enormous ones. In time they attained that omnipotence of wealth + which it would seem no circumstance can control or limit. The first Reuben + Vanderpoel could not spell, the second could, the third was as well + educated as a man could be whose sole profession is money-making. His + children were taught all that expensive teachers and expensive + opportunities could teach them. After the second generation the meagre and + mercantile physical type of the Vanderpoels improved upon itself. Feminine + good looks appeared and were made the most of. The Vanderpoel element + invested even good looks to an advantage. The fourth Reuben Vanderpoel had + no son and two daughters. They were brought up in a brown-stone mansion + built upon a fashionable New York thoroughfare roaring with traffic. To + the farthest point of the Rocky Mountains the number of dollars this + “mansion” (it was always called so) had cost, was known. There + may have existed Pueblo Indians who had heard rumours of the price of it. + All the shop-keepers and farmers in the United States had read newspaper + descriptions of its furnishings and knew the value of the brocade which + hung in the bedrooms and boudoirs of the Misses Vanderpoel. It was a fact + much cherished that Miss Rosalie's bath was of Carrara marble, and to good + souls actively engaged in doing their own washing in small New England or + Western towns, it was a distinct luxury to be aware that the water in the + Carrara marble bath was perfumed with Florentine Iris. Circumstances such + as these seemed to become personal possessions and even to lighten + somewhat the burden of toil. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie Vanderpoel married an Englishman of title, and part of the story + of her married life forms my prologue. Hers was of the early international + marriages, and the republican mind had not yet adjusted itself to all that + such alliances might imply. It was yet ingenuous, imaginative and + confiding in such matters. A baronetcy and a manor house reigning over an + old English village and over villagers in possible smock frocks, presented + elements of picturesque dignity to people whose intimacy with such + allurements had been limited by the novels of Mrs. Oliphant and other + writers. The most ordinary little anecdotes in which vicarages, + gamekeepers, and dowagers figured, were exciting in these early days. + “Sir Nigel Anstruthers,” when engraved upon a visiting card, + wore an air of distinction almost startling. Sir Nigel himself was not as + picturesque as his name, though he was not entirely without attraction, + when for reasons of his own he chose to aim at agreeableness of bearing. + He was a man with a good figure and a good voice, and but for a heaviness + of feature the result of objectionable living, might have given the + impression of being better looking than he really was. New York laid + amused and at the same time, charmed stress upon the fact that he spoke + with an “English accent.” His enunciation was in fact clear + cut and treated its vowels well. He was a man who observed with an air of + accustomed punctiliousness such social rules and courtesies as he deemed + it expedient to consider. An astute worldling had remarked that he was at + once more ceremonious and more casual in his manner than men bred in + America. + </p> + <p> + “If you invite him to dinner,” the wording said, “or if + you die, or marry, or meet with an accident, his notes of condolence or + congratulation are prompt and civil, but the actual truth is that he cares + nothing whatever about you or your relations, and if you don't please him + he does not hesitate to sulk or be astonishingly rude, which last an + American does not allow himself to be, as a rule.” + </p> + <p> + By many people Sir Nigel was not analysed, but accepted. He was of the + early English who came to New York, and was a novelty of interest, with + his background of Manor House and village and old family name. He was very + much talked of at vivacious ladies' luncheon parties, he was very much + talked to at equally vivacious afternoon teas. At dinner parties he was + furtively watched a good deal, but after dinner when he sat with the men + over their wine, he was not popular. He was not perhaps exactly disliked, + but men whose chief interest at that period lay in stocks and railroads, + did not find conversation easy with a man whose sole occupation had been + the shooting of birds and the hunting of foxes, when he was not absolutely + loitering about London, with his time on his hands. The stories he told—and + they were few—were chiefly anecdotes whose points gained their + humour by the fact that a man was a comically bad shot or bad rider and + either peppered a gamekeeper or was thrown into a ditch when his horse + went over a hedge, and such relations did not increase in the poignancy of + their interest by being filtered through brains accustomed to applying + their powers to problems of speculation and commerce. He was not so dull + but that he perceived this at an early stage of his visit to New York, + which was probably the reason of the infrequency of his stories. + </p> + <p> + He on his side was naturally not quick to rise to the humour of a “big + deal” or a big blunder made on Wall Street—or to the wit of + jokes concerning them. Upon the whole he would have been glad to have + understood such matters more clearly. His circumstances were such as had + at last forced him to contemplate the world of money-makers with something + of an annoyed respect. “These fellows” who had neither titles + nor estates to keep up could make money. He, as he acknowledged + disgustedly to himself, was much worse than a beggar. There was Stornham + Court in a state of ruin—the estate going to the dogs, the + farmhouses tumbling to pieces and he, so to speak, without a sixpence to + bless himself with, and head over heels in debt. Englishmen of the rank + which in bygone times had not associated itself with trade had begun at + least to trifle with it—to consider its potentialities as factors + possibly to be made useful by the aristocracy. Countesses had not yet + spiritedly opened milliners' shops, nor belted Earls adorned the stage, + but certain noblemen had dallied with beer and coquetted with stocks. One + of the first commercial developments had been the discovery of America—particularly + of New York—as a place where if one could make up one's mind to the + plunge, one might marry one's sons profitably. At the outset it presented + a field so promising as to lead to rashness and indiscretion on the part + of persons not given to analysis of character and in consequence relying + too serenely upon an ingenuousness which rather speedily revealed that it + had its limits. Ingenuousness combining itself with remarkable alertness + of perception on occasion, is rather American than English, and is, + therefore, to the English mind, misleading. + </p> + <p> + At first younger sons, who “gave trouble” to their families, + were sent out. Their names, their backgrounds of castles or manors, + relatives of distinction, London seasons, fox hunting, Buckingham Palace + and Goodwood Races, formed a picturesque allurement. That the castles and + manors would belong to their elder brothers, that the relatives of + distinction did not encourage intimacy with swarms of the younger branches + of their families; that London seasons, hunting, and racing were for their + elders and betters, were facts not realised in all their importance by the + republican mind. In the course of time they were realised to the full, but + in Rosalie Vanderpoel's nineteenth year they covered what was at that time + almost unknown territory. One may rest assured Sir Nigel Anstruthers said + nothing whatsoever in New York of an interview he had had before sailing + with an intensely disagreeable great-aunt, who was the wife of a Bishop. + She was a horrible old woman with a broad face, blunt features and a + raucous voice, whose tones added acridity to her observations when she was + indulging in her favourite pastime of interfering with the business of her + acquaintances and relations. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what you are going chasing off to America for, Nigel,” + she commented. “You can't afford it and it is perfectly ridiculous + of you to take it upon yourself to travel for pleasure as if you were a + man of means instead of being in such a state of pocket that Maria tells + me you cannot pay your tailor. Neither the Bishop nor I can do anything + for you and I hope you don't expect it. All I can hope is that you know + yourself what you are going to America in search of, and that it is + something more practical than buffaloes. You had better stop in New York. + Those big shopkeepers' daughters are enormously rich, they say, and they + are immensely pleased by attentions from men of your class. They say + they'll marry anything if it has an aunt or a grandmother with a title. + You can mention the Marchioness, you know. You need not refer to the fact + that she thought your father a blackguard and your mother an interloper, + and that you have never been invited to Broadmere since you were born. You + can refer casually to me and to the Bishop and to the Palace, too. A + Palace—even a Bishop's—ought to go a long way with Americans. + They will think it is something royal.” She ended her remarks with + one of her most insulting snorts of laughter, and Sir Nigel became dark + red and looked as if he would like to knock her down. + </p> + <p> + It was not, however, her sentiments which were particularly revolting to + him. If she had expressed them in a manner more flattering to himself he + would have felt that there was a good deal to be said for them. In fact, + he had put the same thing to himself some time previously, and, in summing + up the American matter, had reached certain thrifty decisions. The impulse + to knock her down surged within him solely because he had a brutally bad + temper when his vanity was insulted, and he was furious at her impudence + in speaking to him as if he were a villager out of work whom she was at + liberty to bully and lecture. + </p> + <p> + “For a woman who is supposed to have been born of gentle people,” + he said to his mother afterwards, “Aunt Marian is the most vulgar + old beast I have ever beheld. She has the taste of a female costermonger.” + Which was entirely true, but it might be added that his own was no better + and his points of view and morals wholly coincided with his taste. + </p> + <p> + Naturally Rosalie Vanderpoel knew nothing of this side of the matter. She + had been a petted, butterfly child, who had been pretty and admired and + indulged from her infancy; she had grown up into a petted, butterfly girl, + pretty and admired and surrounded by inordinate luxury. Her world had been + made up of good-natured, lavish friends and relations, who enjoyed + themselves and felt a delight in her girlish toilettes and triumphs. She + had spent her one season of belledom in being whirled from festivity to + festivity, in dancing in rooms festooned with thousands of dollars' worth + of flowers, in lunching or dining at tables loaded with roses and violets + and orchids, from which ballrooms or feasts she had borne away wonderful + “favours” and gifts, whose prices, being recorded in the + newspapers, caused a thrill of delight or envy to pass over the land. She + was a slim little creature, with quantities of light feathery hair like a + French doll's. She had small hands and small feet and a small waist—a + small brain also, it must be admitted, but she was an innocent, + sweet-tempered girl with a childlike simpleness of mind. In fine, she was + exactly the girl to find Sir Nigel's domineering temperament at once + imposing and attractive, so long as it was cloaked by the ceremonies of + external good breeding. + </p> + <p> + Her sister Bettina, who was still a child, was of a stronger and less + susceptible nature. Betty—at eight—had long legs and a square + but delicate small face. Her well-opened steel-blue eyes were noticeable + for rather extravagant ink-black lashes and a straight young stare which + seemed to accuse if not to condemn. She was being educated at a ruinously + expensive school with a number of other inordinately rich little girls, + who were all too wonderfully dressed and too lavishly supplied with pocket + money. The school considered itself especially refined and select, but was + in fact interestingly vulgar. + </p> + <p> + The inordinately rich little girls, who had most of them pretty and + spiritual or pretty and piquant faces, ate a great many bon bons and + chattered a great deal in high unmodulated voices about the parties their + sisters and other relatives went to and the dresses they wore. Some of + them were nice little souls, who in the future would emerge from their + chrysalis state enchanting women, but they used colloquialisms freely, and + had an ingenuous habit of referring to the prices of things. Bettina + Vanderpoel, who was the richest and cleverest and most promisingly + handsome among them, was colloquial to slanginess, but she had a deep, + mellow, child voice and an amazing carriage. + </p> + <p> + She could not endure Sir Nigel Anstruthers, and, being an American child, + did not hesitate to express herself with force, if with some crudeness. + “He's a hateful thing,” she said, “I loathe him. He's + stuck up and he thinks you are afraid of him and he likes it.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel had known only English children, little girls who lived in that + discreet corner of their parents' town or country houses known as “the + schoolroom,” apparently emerging only for daily walks with + governesses; girls with long hair and boys in little high hats and with + faces which seemed curiously made to match them. Both boys and girls were + decently kept out of the way and not in the least dwelt on except when + brought out for inspection during the holidays and taken to the pantomime. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel had not realised that an American child was an absolute factor + to be counted with, and a “youngster” who entered the + drawing-room when she chose and joined fearlessly in adult conversation + was an element he considered annoying. It was quite true that Bettina + talked too much and too readily at times, but it had not been explained to + her that the opinions of eight years are not always of absorbing interest + to the mature. It was also true that Sir Nigel was a great fool for + interfering with what was clearly no affair of his in such a manner as + would have made him an enemy even had not the child's instinct arrayed her + against him at the outset. + </p> + <p> + “You American youngsters are too cheeky,” he said on one of + the occasions when Betty had talked too much. “If you were my sister + and lived at Stornham Court, you would be learning lessons in the + schoolroom and wearing a pinafore. Nobody ever saw my sister Emily when + she was your age.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not your sister Emily,” retorted Betty, “and + I guess I'm glad of it.” + </p> + <p> + It was rather impudent of her, but it must be confessed that she was not + infrequently rather impudent in a rude little-girl way, but she was + serenely unconscious of the fact. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel flushed darkly and laughed a short, unpleasant laugh. If she had + been his sister Emily she would have fared ill at the moment, for his + villainous temper would have got the better of him. + </p> + <p> + “I 'guess' that I may be congratulated too,” he sneered. + </p> + <p> + “If I was going to be anybody's sister Emily,” said Betty, + excited a little by the sense of the fray, “I shouldn't want to be + yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Now Betty, don't be hateful,” interposed Rosalie, laughing, + and her laugh was nervous. “There's Mina Thalberg coming up the + front steps. Go and meet her.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie, poor girl, always found herself nervous when Sir Nigel and Betty + were in the room together. She instinctively recognised their antagonism + and was afraid Betty would do something an English baronet would think + vulgar. Her simple brain could not have explained to her why it was that + she knew Sir Nigel often thought New Yorkers vulgar. She was, however, + quite aware of this but imperfectly concealed fact, and felt a timid + desire to be explanatory. + </p> + <p> + When Bettina marched out of the room with her extraordinary carriage + finely manifest, Rosy's little laugh was propitiatory. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't mind her,” she said. “She's a real splendid + little thing, but she's got a quick temper. It's all over in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “They wouldn't stand that sort of thing in England,” said Sir + Nigel. “She's deucedly spoiled, you know.” + </p> + <p> + He detested the child. He disliked all children, but this one awakened in + him more than mere dislike. The fact was that though Betty herself was + wholly unconscious of the subtle truth, the as yet undeveloped intellect + which later made her a brilliant and captivating personality, vaguely saw + him as he was, an unscrupulous, sordid brute, as remorseless an adventurer + and swindler in his special line, as if he had been engaged in drawing + false cheques and arranging huge jewel robberies, instead of planning to + entrap into a disadvantageous marriage a girl whose gentleness and fortune + could be used by a blackguard of reputable name. The man was cold-blooded + enough to see that her gentle weakness was of value because it could be + bullied, her money was to be counted on because it could be spent on + himself and his degenerate vices and on his racked and ruined name and + estate, which must be rebuilt and restocked at an early date by someone or + other, lest they tumbled into ignominious collapse which could not be + concealed. Bettina of the accusing eyes did not know that in the depth of + her yet crude young being, instinct was summing up for her the + potentialities of an unusually fine specimen of the British blackguard, + but this was nevertheless the interesting truth. When later she was told + that her sister had become engaged to Sir Nigel Anstruthers, a flame of + colour flashed over her face, she stared silently a moment, then bit her + lip and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Bett,” exclaimed Rosalie, “you are the queerest + thing I ever saw.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina's tears were an outburst, not a flow. She swept them away + passionately with her small handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “He'll do something awful to you,” she said. “He'll + nearly kill you. I know he will. I'd rather be dead myself.” + </p> + <p> + She dashed out of the room, and could never be induced to say a word + further about the matter. She would indeed have found it impossible to + express her intense antipathy and sense of impending calamity. She had not + the phrases to make herself clear even to herself, and after all what + controlling effort can one produce when one is only eight years old? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + A LACK OF PERCEPTION + </h3> + <p> + Mercantile as Americans were proclaimed to be, the opinion of Sir Nigel + Anstruthers was that they were, on some points, singularly unbusinesslike. + In the perfectly obvious and simple matter of the settlement of his + daughter's fortune, he had felt that Reuben Vanderpoel was obtuse to the + point of idiocy. He seemed to have none of the ordinary points of view. + Naturally there was to Anstruthers' mind but one point of view to take. A + man of birth and rank, he argued, does not career across the Atlantic to + marry a New York millionaire's daughter unless he anticipates deriving + some advantage from the alliance. Such a man—being of Anstruthers' + type—would not have married a rich woman even in his own country + with out making sure that advantages were to accrue to himself as a result + of the union. “In England,” to use his own words, “there + was no nonsense about it.” Women's fortunes as well as themselves + belonged to their husbands, and a man who was master in his own house + could make his wife do as he chose. He had seen girls with money managed + very satisfactorily by fellows who held a tight rein, and were not moved + by tears, and did not allow talking to relations. If he had been desirous + of marrying and could have afforded to take a penniless wife, there were + hundreds of portionless girls ready to thank God for a decent chance to + settle themselves for life, and one need not stir out of one's native land + to find them. + </p> + <p> + But Sir Nigel had not in the least desired to saddle himself with a + domestic encumbrance, in fact nothing would have induced him to consider + the step if he had not been driven hard by circumstances. His fortunes had + reached a stage where money must be forthcoming somehow—from + somewhere. He and his mother had been living from hand to mouth, so to + speak, for years, and they had also been obliged to keep up appearances, + which is sometimes embittering even to persons of amiable tempers. Lady + Anstruthers, it is true, had lived in the country in as niggardly a manner + as possible. She had narrowed her existence to absolute privation, + presenting at the same time a stern, bold front to the persons who saw + her, to the insufficient staff of servants, to the village to the vicar + and his wife, and the few far-distant neighbours who perhaps once a year + drove miles to call or leave a card. She was an old woman sufficiently + unattractive to find no difficulty in the way of limiting her + acquaintances. The unprepossessing wardrobe she had gathered in the + passing years was remade again and again by the village dressmaker. She + wore dingy old silk gowns and appalling bonnets, and mantles dripping with + rusty fringes and bugle beads, but these mitigated not in the least the + unflinching arrogance of her bearing, or the simple, intolerant rudeness + which she considered proper and becoming in persons like herself. She did + not of course allow that there existed many persons like herself. + </p> + <p> + That society rejoiced in this fact was but the stamp of its inferiority + and folly. While she pinched herself and harried her few hirelings at + Stornham it was necessary for Sir Nigel to show himself in town and + present as decent an appearance as possible. His vanity was far too + arrogant to allow of his permitting himself to drop out of the world to + which he could not afford to belong. That he should have been forgotten or + ignored would have been intolerable to him. For a few years he was invited + to dine at good houses, and got shooting and hunting as part of the + hospitality of his acquaintances. But a man who cannot afford to return + hospitalities will find that he need not expect to avail himself of those + of his acquaintances to the end of his career unless he is an extremely + engaging person. Sir Nigel Anstruthers was not an engaging person. He + never gave a thought to the comfort or interest of any other human being + than himself. He was also dominated by the kind of nasty temper which so + reveals itself when let loose that its owner cannot control it even when + it would be distinctly to his advantage to do so. + </p> + <p> + Finding that he had nothing to give in return for what he took as if it + were his right, society gradually began to cease to retain any lively + recollection of his existence. The tradespeople he had borne himself + loftily towards awakened to the fact that he was the kind of man it was at + once safe and wise to dun, and therefore proceeded to make his life a + burden to him. At his clubs he had never been a member surrounded and + rejoiced over when he made his appearance. The time came when he began to + fancy that he was rather edged away from, and he endeavoured to sustain + his dignity by being sulky and making caustic speeches when he was + approached. Driven occasionally down to Stornham by actual pressure of + circumstances, he found the outlook there more embittering still. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers laid the bareness of the land before him without any + effort to palliate unpleasantness. If he chose to stalk about and look + glum, she could sit still and call his attention to revolting truths which + he could not deny. She could point out to him that he had no money, and + that tenants would not stay in houses which were tumbling to pieces, and + work land which had been starved. She could tell him just how long a time + had elapsed since wages had been paid and accounts cleared off. And she + had an engaging, unbiassed way of seeming to drive these maddening details + home by the mere manner of her statement. + </p> + <p> + “You make the whole thing as damned disagreeable as you can,” + Nigel would snarl. + </p> + <p> + “I merely state facts,” she would reply with acrid serenity. + </p> + <p> + A man who cannot keep up his estate, pay his tailor or the rent of his + lodgings in town, is in a strait which may drive him to desperation. Sir + Nigel Anstruthers borrowed some money, went to New York and made his suit + to nice little silly Rosalie Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + But the whole thing was unexpectedly disappointing and surrounded by + irritating circumstances. He found himself face to face with a state of + affairs such as he had not contemplated. In England when a man married, + certain practical matters could be inquired into and arranged by + solicitors, the amount of the prospective bride's fortune, the allowances + and settlements to be made, the position of the bridegroom with regard to + pecuniary matters. To put it simply, a man found out where he stood and + what he was to gain. But, at first to his sardonic entertainment and later + to his disgusted annoyance, Sir Nigel gradually discovered that in the + matter of marriage, Americans had an ingenuous tendency to believe in the + sentimental feelings of the parties concerned. The general impression + seemed to be that a man married purely for love, and that delicacy would + make it impossible for him to ask questions as to what his bride's parents + were in a position to hand over to him as a sort of indemnity for the loss + of his bachelor freedom. Anstruthers began to discover this fact before he + had been many weeks in New York. He reached the realisation of its + existence by processes of exclusion and inclusion, by hearing casual + remarks people let drop, by asking roundabout and careful questions, by + leading both men and women to the innocent expounding of certain points of + view. Millionaires, it appeared, did not expect to make allowances to men + who married their daughters; young women, it transpired, did not in the + least realise that a man should be liberally endowed in payment for + assuming the duties of a husband. If rich fathers made allowances, they + made them to their daughters themselves, who disposed of them as they + pleased. In this case, of course, Sir Nigel privately argued with fine + acumen, it became the husband's business to see that what his wife pleased + should be what most agreeably coincided with his own views and + conveniences. + </p> + <p> + His most illuminating experience had been the hearing of some men, + hard-headed, rich stockbrokers with a vulgar sense of humour, enjoying + themselves quite uproariously one night at a club, over a story one of + them was relating of an unsatisfactory German son-in-law who had demanded + an income. He was a man of small title, who had married the narrator's + daughter, and after some months spent in his father-in-law's house, had + felt it but proper that his financial position should be put on a + practical footing. + </p> + <p> + “He brought her back after the bridal tour to make us a visit,” + said the storyteller, a sharp-featured man with a quaint wry mouth, which + seemed to express a perpetual, repressed appreciation of passing events. + “I had nothing to say against that, because we were all glad to see + her home and her mother had been missing her. But weeks passed and months + passed and there was no mention made of them going over to settle in the + Slosh we'd heard so much of, and in time it came out that the Slosh thing”—Anstruthers + realised with gall in his soul that the “brute,” as he called + him, meant “Schloss,” and that his mispronunciation was at + once a matter of humour and derision—“wasn't his at all. It + was his elder brother's. The whole lot of them were counts and not one of + them seemed to own a dime. The Slosh count hadn't more than twenty-five + cents and he wasn't the kind to deal any of it out to his family. So + Lily's count would have to go clerking in a dry goods store, if he + promised to support himself. But he didn't propose to do it. He thought + he'd got on to a soft thing. Of course we're an easy-going lot and we + should have stood him if he'd been a nice fellow. But he wasn't. Lily's + mother used to find her crying in her bedroom and it came out by degrees + that it was because Adolf had been quarrelling with her and saying + sneering things about her family. When her mother talked to him he was + insulting. Then bills began to come in and Lily was expected to get me to + pay them. And they were not the kind of bills a decent fellow calls on + another man to pay. But I did it five or six times to make it easy for + her. I didn't tell her that they gave an older chap than himself + sidelights on the situation. But that didn't work well. He thought I did + it because I had to, and he began to feel free and easy about it, and + didn't try to cover up his tracks so much when he sent in a new lot. He + was always working Lily. He began to consider himself master of the house. + He intimated that a private carriage ought to be kept for them. He said it + was beggarly that he should have to consider the rest of the family when + he wanted to go out. When I got on to the situation, I began to enjoy it. + I let him spread himself for a while just to see what he would do. Good + Lord! I couldn't have believed that any fellow could have thought any + other fellow could be such a fool as he thought I was. He went perfectly + crazy after a month or so and ordered me about and patronised me as if I + was a bootblack he meant to teach something to. So at last I had a talk + with Lily and told her I was going to put an end to it. Of course she + cried and was half frightened to death, but by that time he had ill-used + her so that she only wanted to get rid of him. So I sent for him and had a + talk with him in my office. I led him on to saying all he had on his mind. + He explained to me what a condescension it was for a man like himself to + marry a girl like Lily. He made a dignified, touching picture of all the + disadvantages of such an alliance and all the advantages they ought to + bring in exchange to the man who bore up under them. I rubbed my head and + looked worried every now and then and cleared my throat apologetically + just to warm him up. I can tell you that fellow felt happy, downright + happy when he saw how humbly I listened to him. He positively swelled up + with hope and comfort. He thought I was going to turn out well, real well. + I was going to pay up just as a vulgar New York father-in-law ought to do, + and thank God for the blessed privilege. Why, he was real eloquent about + his blood and his ancestors and the hoary-headed Slosh. So when he'd + finished, I cleared my throat in a nervous, ingratiating kind of way again + and I asked him kind of anxiously what he thought would be the proper + thing for a base-born New York millionaire to do under the circumstances—what + he would approve of himself.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel was disgusted to see the narrator twist his mouth into a sweet, + shrewd, repressed grin even as he expectorated into the nearest + receptacle. The grin was greeted by a shout of laughter from his + companions. + </p> + <p> + “What did he say, Stebbins?” someone cried. + </p> + <p> + “He said,” explained Mr. Stebbins deliberately, “he said + that an allowance was the proper thing. He said that a man of his rank + must have resources, and that it wasn't dignified for him to have to ask + his wife or his wife's father for money when he wanted it. He said an + allowance was what he felt he had a right to expect. And then he twisted + his moustache and said, 'what proposition' did I make—what would I + allow him?” + </p> + <p> + The storyteller's hearers evidently knew him well. Their laughter was + louder than before. + </p> + <p> + “Let's hear the rest, Joe! Let's hear it!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Mr. Stebbins almost thoughtfully, “I + just got up and said, 'Well, it won't take long for me to answer that. + I've always been fond of my children, and Lily is rather my pet. She's + always had everything she wanted, and she always shall. She's a good girl + and she deserves it. I'll allow you——” The significant + deliberation of his drawl could scarcely be described. “I'll allow + you just five minutes to get out of this room, before I kick you out, and + if I kick you out of the room, I'll kick you down the stairs, and if I + kick you down the stairs, I shall have got my blood comfortably warmed up + and I'll kick you down the street and round the block and down to Hoboken, + because you're going to take the steamer there and go back to the place + you came from, to the Slosh thing or whatever you call it. We haven't a + damned bit of use for you here.' And believe it or not, gentlemen——” + looking round with the wry-mouthed smile, “he took that passage and + back he went. And Lily's living with her mother and I mean to hold on to + her.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel got up and left the club when the story was finished. He took a + long walk down Broadway, gnawing his lip and holding his head in the air. + He used blasphemous language at intervals in a low voice. Some of it was + addressed to his fate and some of it to the vulgar mercantile coarseness + and obtuseness of other people. + </p> + <p> + “They don't know what they are talking of,” he said. “It + is unheard of. What do they expect? I never thought of this. Damn it! I'm + like a rat in a trap.” + </p> + <p> + It was plain enough that he could not arrange his fortune as he had + anticipated when he decided to begin to make love to little pink and + white, doll-faced Rosy Vanderpoel. If he began to demand monetary + advantages in his dealing with his future wife's people in their + settlement of her fortune, he might arouse suspicion and inquiry. He did + not want inquiry either in connection with his own means or his past + manner of living. People who hated him would be sure to crop up with + stories of things better left alone. There were always meddling fools + ready to interfere. + </p> + <p> + His walk was long and full of savage thinking. Once or twice as he + realised what the disinterestedness of his sentiments was supposed to be, + a short laugh broke from him which was rather like the snort of the + Bishopess. + </p> + <p> + “I am supposed to be moonstruck over a simpering American chit—moonstruck! + Damn!” But when he returned to his hotel he had made up his mind and + was beginning to look over the situation in evil cold blood. Matters must + be settled without delay and he was shrewd enough to realise that with his + temper and its varied resources a timid girl would not be difficult to + manage. He had seen at an early stage of their acquaintance that Rosy was + greatly impressed by the superiority of his bearing, that he could make + her blush with embarrassment when he conveyed to her that she had made a + mistake, that he could chill her miserably when he chose to assume a lofty + stiffness. A man's domestic armoury was filled with weapons if he could + make a woman feel gauche, inexperienced, in the wrong. When he was safely + married, he could pave the way to what he felt was the only practical and + feasible end. + </p> + <p> + If he had been marrying a woman with more brains, she would be more + difficult to subdue, but with Rosalie Vanderpoel, processes were not + necessary. If you shocked, bewildered or frightened her with accusations, + sulks, or sneers, her light, innocent head was set in such a whirl that + the rest was easy. It was possible, upon the whole, that the thing might + not turn out so infernally ill after all. Supposing that it had been + Bettina who had been the marriageable one! Appreciating to the full the + many reasons for rejoicing that she had not been, he walked in gloomy + reflection home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + YOUNG LADY ANSTRUTHERS + </h3> + <p> + When the marriage took place the event was accompanied by an ingenuously + elate flourish of trumpets. Miss Vanderpoel's frocks were multitudinous + and wonderful, as also her jewels purchased at Tiffany's. She carried a + thousand trunks—more or less—across the Atlantic. When the + ship steamed away from the dock, the wharf was like a flower garden in the + blaze of brilliant and delicate attire worn by the bevy of relatives and + intimates who stood waving their handkerchiefs and laughingly calling out + farewell good wishes. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel's mental attitude was not a sympathetic or admiring one as he + stood by his bride's side looking back. If Rosy's half happy, half tearful + excitement had left her the leisure to reflect on his expression, she + would not have felt it encouraging. + </p> + <p> + “What a deuce of a row Americans make,” he said even before + they were out of hearing of the voices. “It will be a positive rest + to be in a country where the women do not cackle and shriek with laughter.” + </p> + <p> + He said it with that simple rudeness which at times professed to be almost + impersonal, and which Rosalie had usually tried to believe was the outcome + of a kind of cool British humour. But this time she started a little at + his words. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we do make more noise than English people,” she + admitted a second or so later. “I wonder why?” And without + waiting for an answer—somewhat as if she had not expected or quite + wanted one—she leaned a little farther over the side to look back, + waving her small, fluttering handkerchief to the many still in tumult on + the wharf. She was not perceptive or quick enough to take offence, to + realise that the remark was significant and that Sir Nigel had already + begun as he meant to go on. It was far from being his intention to play + the part of an American husband, who was plainly a creature in whom no + authority vested itself. Americans let their women say and do anything, + and were capable of fetching and carrying for them. He had seen a man run + upstairs for his wife's wrap, cheerfully, without the least apparent sense + that the service was the part of a footman if there was one in the house, + a parlour maid if there was not. Sir Nigel had been brought up in the good + Early Victorian days when “a nice little woman to fetch your + slippers for you” figured in certain circles as domestic bliss. + Girls were educated to fetch slippers as retrievers were trained to go + into the water after sticks, and terriers to bring back balls thrown for + them. + </p> + <p> + The new Lady Anstruthers had, it supervened, several opportunities to + obtain a new view of her bridegroom's character before their voyage across + the Atlantic was over. At this period of the slower and more cumbrous + weaving of the Shuttle, the world had not yet awakened even to the + possibilities of the ocean greyhound. An Atlantic voyage at times was + capable of offering to a bride and bridegroom days enough to begin to + glance into their future with a premonition of the waning of the + honeymoon, at least, and especially if they were not sea-proof, to wish + wearily that the first half of it were over. Rosalie was not weary, but + she began to be bewildered. As she had never been a clever girl or quick + to perceive, and had spent her life among women-indulging American men, + she was not prepared with any precedent which made her situation clear. + The first time Sir Nigel showed his temper to her she simply stared at + him, her eyes looking like those of a puzzled, questioning child. Then she + broke into her nervous little laugh, because she did not know what else to + do. At his second outbreak her stare was rather startled and she did not + laugh. + </p> + <p> + Her first awakening was to an anxious wonderment concerning certain moods + of gloom, or what seemed to be gloom, to which he seemed prone. As she lay + in her steamer chair he would at times march stiffly up and down the deck, + apparently aware of no other existence than his own, his features + expressing a certain clouded resentment of whose very unexplainableness + she secretly stood in awe. She was not astute enough, poor girl, to leave + him alone, and when with innocent questionings she endeavoured to discover + his trouble, the greatest mystification she encountered was that he had + the power to make her feel that she was in some way taking a liberty, and + showing her lack of tact and perspicuity. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything the matter, Nigel?” she asked at first, wondering + if she were guilty of silliness in trying to slip her hand into his. She + was sure she had been when he answered her. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said chillingly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you are happy,” she returned. “Somehow + you seem so—so different.” + </p> + <p> + “I have reasons for being depressed,” he replied, and it was + with a stiff finality which struck a note of warning to her, signifying + that it would be better taste in her to put an end to her simple efforts. + </p> + <p> + She vaguely felt herself put in the wrong, and he preferred that it should + be so. It was the best form of preparation for any mood he might see that + it might pay him to show her in the future. He was, in fact, confronting + disdainfully his position. He had her on his hands and he was returning to + his relations with no definite advantage to exhibit as the result of + having married her. She had been supplied with an income but he had no + control over it. It would not have been so if he had not been in such + straits that he had been afraid to risk his chance by making a stand. To + have a wife with money, a silly, sweet temper and no will of her own, was + of course better than to be penniless, head over heels in debt and hemmed + in by difficulties on every side. He had seen women trained to give in to + anything rather than be bullied in public, to accede in the end to any + demand rather than endure the shame of a certain kind of scene made before + servants, and a certain kind of insolence used to relatives and guests. + The quality he found most maddeningly irritating in Rosalie was her + obviously absolute unconsciousness of the fact that it was entirely + natural and proper that her resources should be in her husband's hands. He + had, indeed, even in these early days, made a tentative effort or so in + the form of a suggestive speech; he had given her openings to give him an + opening to put things on a practical basis, but she had never had the + intelligence to see what he was aiming at, and he had found himself almost + floundering ungracefully in his remarks, while she had looked at him + without a sign of comprehension in her simple, anxious blue eyes. The + creature was actually trying to understand him and could not. That was the + worst of it, the blank wall of her unconsciousness, her childlike belief + that he was far too grand a personage to require anything. These were the + things he was thinking over when he walked up and down the deck in + unamiable solitariness. Rosy awakened to the amazed consciousness of the + fact that, instead of being pleased with the luxury and prettiness of her + wardrobe and appointments, he seemed to dislike and disdain them. + </p> + <p> + “You American women change your clothes too much and think too much + of them,” was one of his first amiable criticisms. “You spend + more than well-bred women should spend on mere dresses and bonnets. In New + York it always strikes an Englishman that the women look endimanche at + whatever time of day you come across them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nigel!” cried Rosy woefully. She could not think of + anything more to say than, “Oh, Nigel!” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say it is true,” he replied loftily. That she + was an American and a New Yorker was being impressed upon poor little Lady + Anstruthers in a new way—somehow as if the mere cold statement of + the fact put a fine edge of sarcasm to any remark. She was of too innocent + a loyalty to wish that she was neither the one nor the other, but she did + wish that Nigel was not so prejudiced against the places and people she + cared for so much. + </p> + <p> + She was sitting in her stateroom enfolded in a dressing gown covered with + cascades of lace, tied with knots of embroidered ribbon, and her maid, + Hannah, who admired her greatly, was brushing her fair long hair with a + gold-backed brush, ornamented with a monogram of jewels. + </p> + <p> + If she had been a French duchess of a piquant type, or an English one with + an aquiline nose, she would have been beyond criticism; if she had been a + plump, over-fed woman, or an ugly, ill-natured, gross one, she would have + looked vulgar, but she was a little, thin, fair New Yorker, and though she + was not beyond criticism—if one demanded high distinction—she + was pretty and nice to look at. But Nigel Anstruthers would not allow this + to her. His own tailors' bills being far in arrears and his pocket + disgustingly empty, the sight of her ingenuous sumptuousness and the gay, + accustomed simpleness of outlook with which she accepted it as her natural + right, irritated him and roused his venom. Bills would remain unpaid if + she was permitted to spend her money on this sort of thing without any + consideration for the requirements of other people. + </p> + <p> + He inhaled the air and made a gesture of distaste. + </p> + <p> + “This sachet business is rather overpowering,” he said. + “It is the sort of thing a woman should be particularly discreet + about.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nigel!” cried the poor girl agitatedly. “Hannah, do + go and call the steward to open the windows. Is it really strong?” + she implored as Hannah went out. “How dreadful. It's only orris and + I didn't know Hannah had put it in the trunks.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Rosalie,” with a wave of the hand taking in both + herself and her dressing case, “it is all too strong.” + </p> + <p> + “All—wh—what?” gaspingly. + </p> + <p> + “The whole thing. All that lace and love knot arrangement, the + gold-backed brushes and scent bottles with diamonds and rubies sticking in + them.” + </p> + <p> + “They—they were wedding presents. They came from Tiffany's. + Everyone thought them lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “They look as if they belonged to the dressing table of a French + woman of the demi-monde. I feel as if I had actually walked into the + apartment of some notorious Parisian soubrette.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie Vanderpoel was a clean-minded little person, her people were of + the clean-minded type, therefore she did not understand all that this + ironic speech implied, but she gathered enough of its significance to + cause her to turn first red and then pale and then to burst into tears. + She was crying and trying to conceal the fact when Hannah returned. She + bent her head and touched her eyes furtively while her toilette was + completed. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel had retired from the scene, but he had done so feeling that he + had planted a seed and bestowed a practical lesson. He had, it is true, + bestowed one, but again she had not understood its significance and was + only left bewildered and unhappy. She began to be nervous and uncertain + about herself and about his moods and points of view. She had never been + made to feel so at home. Everyone had been kind to her and lenient to her + lack of brilliancy. No one had expected her to be brilliant, and she had + been quite sweet-temperedly resigned to the fact that she was not the kind + of girl who shone either in society or elsewhere. She did not resent the + fact that she knew people said of her, “She isn't in the least bit + bright, Rosy Vanderpoel, but she's a nice, sweet little thing.” She + had tried to be nice and sweet and had aspired to nothing higher. + </p> + <p> + But now that seemed so much less than enough. Perhaps Nigel ought to have + married one of the clever ones, someone who would have known how to + understand him and who would have been more entertaining than she could + be. Perhaps she was beginning to bore him, perhaps he was finding her out + and beginning to get tired. At this point the always too ready tears would + rise to her eyes and she would be overwhelmed by a sense of homesickness. + Often she cried herself silently to sleep, longing for her mother—her + nice, comfortable, ordinary mother, whom she had several times felt Nigel + had some difficulty in being unreservedly polite to—though he had + been polite on the surface. + </p> + <p> + By the time they landed she had been living under so much strain in her + effort to seem quite unchanged, that she had lost her nerve. She did not + feel well and was sometimes afraid that she might do something silly and + hysterical in spite of herself, begin to cry for instance when there was + really no explanation for her doing it. But when she reached London the + novelty of everything so excited her that she thought she was going to be + better, and then she said to herself it would be proved to her that all + her fears had been nonsense. This return of hope made her quite + light-spirited, and she was almost gay in her little outbursts of delight + and admiration as she drove about the streets with her husband. She did + not know that her ingenuous ignorance of things he had known all his life, + her rapture over common monuments of history, led him to say to himself + that he felt rather as if he were taking a housemaid to see a Lord Mayor's + Show. + </p> + <p> + Before going to Stornham Court they spent a few days in town. There had + been no intention of proclaiming their presence to the world, and they did + not do so, but unluckily certain tradesmen discovered the fact that Sir + Nigel Anstruthers had returned to England with the bride he had secured in + New York. The conclusion to be deduced from this circumstance was that the + particular moment was a good one at which to send in bills for “acct. + rendered.” The tradesmen quite shared Anstruthers' point of view. + Their reasoning was delightfully simple and they were wholly unaware that + it might have been called gross. A man over his head and ears in debt + naturally expected his creditors would be paid by the young woman who had + married him. America had in these days been so little explored by the + thrifty impecunious well-born that its ingenuous sentimentality in certain + matters was by no means comprehended. + </p> + <p> + By each post Sir Nigel received numerous bills. Sometimes letters + accompanied them, and once or twice respectful but firm male persons + brought them by hand and demanded interviews which irritated Sir Nigel + extremely. Given time to arrange matters with Rosalie, to train her to + some sense of her duty, he believed that the “acct. rendered” + could be wiped off, but he saw he must have time. She was such a little + fool. Again and again he was furious at the fate which had forced him to + take her. + </p> + <p> + The truth was that Rosalie knew nothing whatever about unpaid bills. + Reuben Vanderpoel's daughters had never encountered an indignant tradesman + in their lives. When they went into “stores” they were + received with unfeigned rapture. Everything was dragged forth to be + displayed to them, attendants waited to leap forth to supply their + smallest behest. They knew no other phase of existence than the one in + which one could buy anything one wanted and pay any price demanded for it. + </p> + <p> + Consequently Rosalie did not recognise signs which would have been + obviously recognisable by the initiated. If Sir Nigel Anstruthers had been + a nice young fellow who had loved her, and he had been honest enough to + make a clean breast of his difficulties, she would have thrown herself + into his arms and implored him effusively to make use of all her available + funds, and if the supply had been insufficient, would have immediately + written to her father for further donations, knowing that her appeal would + be responded to at once. But Sir Nigel Anstruthers cherished no sentiment + for any other individual than himself, and he had no intention of + explaining that his mere vanity had caused him to mislead her, that his + rank and estate counted for nothing and that he was in fact a pauper + loaded with dishonest debts. He wanted money, but he wanted it to be given + to him as if he conferred a favour by receiving it. It must be transferred + to him as though it were his by right. What did a man marry for? Therefore + his wife's unconsciousness that she was inflicting outrage upon him by her + mere mental attitude filled his being with slowly rising gall. + </p> + <p> + Poor Rosalie went joyfully forth shopping after the manner of all newly + arrived Americans. She bought new toilettes and gewgaws and presents for + her friends and relations in New York, and each package which was + delivered at the hotel added to Sir Nigel's rage. + </p> + <p> + That the little blockhead should be allowed to do what she liked with her + money and that he should not be able to forbid her! This he said to + himself at intervals of five minutes through the day—which led to + another small episode. + </p> + <p> + “You are spending a great deal of money,” he said one morning + in his condemnatory manner. Rosalie looked up from the lace flounce which + had just been delivered and gave the little nervous laugh, which was + becoming entirely uncertain of propitiating. + </p> + <p> + “Am I?” she answered. “They say all Americans spend a + good deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Your money ought to be in proper hands and properly managed,” + he went on with cold precision. “If you were an English woman, your + husband would control it.” + </p> + <p> + “Would he?” The simple, sweet-tempered obtuseness of her tone + was an infuriating thing to him. There was the usual shade of troubled + surprise in her eyes as they met his. “I don't think men in America + ever do that. I don't believe the nice ones want to. You see they have + such a pride about always giving things to women, and taking care of them. + I believe a nice American man would break stones in the street rather than + take money from a woman—even his wife. I mean while he could work. + Of course if he was ill or had ill luck or anything like that, he wouldn't + be so proud as not to take it from the person who loved him most and + wanted to help him. You do sometimes hear of a man who won't work and lets + his wife support him, but it's very seldom, and they are always the low + kind that other men look down on.” + </p> + <p> + “Wanted to help him.” Sir Nigel selected the phrase and quoted + it between puffs of the cigar he held in his fine, rather cruel-looking + hands, and his voice expressed a not too subtle sneer. “A woman is + not 'helping' her husband when she gives him control of her fortune. She + is only doing her duty and accepting her proper position with regard to + him. The law used to settle the thing definitely.” + </p> + <p> + “Did-did it?” Rosy faltered weakly. She knew he was offended + again and that she was once more somehow in the wrong. So many things + about her seemed to displease him, and when he was displeased he always + reminded her that she was stupidly, objectionably guilty of not being an + English woman. + </p> + <p> + Whatsoever it happened to be, the fault she had committed out of her depth + of ignorance, he did not forget it. It was no habit of his to endeavour to + dismiss offences. He preferred to hold them in possession as if they were + treasures and to turn them over and over, in the mental seclusion which + nourishes the growth of injuries, since within its barriers there is no + chance of their being palliated by the apologies or explanations of the + offender. + </p> + <p> + During their journey to Stornham Court the next day he was in one of his + black moods. Once in the railway carriage he paid small attention to his + wife, but sat rigidly reading his Times, until about midway to their + destination he descended at a station and paid a visit to the buffet in + the small refreshment room, after which he settled himself to doze in an + exceedingly unbecoming attitude, his travelling cap pulled down, his + rather heavy face congested with the dark flush Rosalie had not yet + learned was due to the fact that he had hastily tossed off two or three + whiskies and sodas. Though he was never either thick of utterance or + unsteady on his feet, whisky and soda formed an important factor in his + existence. When he was annoyed or dull he at once took the necessary + precautions against being overcome by these feelings, and the effect upon + a constitutionally evil temper was to transform it into an infernal one. + The night had been a bad one for Rosy. Such floods of homesick longing had + overpowered her that she had not been able to sleep. She had risen feeling + shaky and hysterical and her nervousness had been added to by her fear + that Nigel might observe her and make comment. Of course she told herself + it was natural that he should not wish her to appear at Stornham Court + looking a pale, pink-nosed little fright. Her efforts to be cheerful had + indeed been somewhat touching, but they had met with small encouragement. + </p> + <p> + She thought the green-clothed country lovely as the train sped through it, + and a lump rose in her small throat because she knew she might have been + so happy if she had not been so frightened and miserable. The thing which + had been dawning upon her took clearer, more awful form. Incidents she had + tried to explain and excuse to herself, upon all sorts of futile, simple + grounds, began to loom up before her in something like their actual + proportions. She had heard of men who had changed their manner towards + girls after they had married them, but she did not know they had begun to + change so soon. This was so early in the honeymoon to be sitting in a + railway carriage, in a corner remote from that occupied by a bridegroom, + who read his paper in what was obviously intentional, resentful solitude. + Emily Soame's father, she remembered it against her will, had been obliged + to get a divorce for Emily after her two years of wretched married life. + But Alfred Soames had been quite nice for six months at least. It seemed + as if all this must be a dream, one of those nightmare things, in which + you suddenly find yourself married to someone you cannot bear, and you + don't know how it happened, because you yourself have had nothing to do + with the matter. She felt that presently she must waken with a start and + find herself breathing fast, and panting out, half laughing, half crying, + “Oh, I am so glad it's not true! I am so glad it's not true!” + </p> + <p> + But this was true, and there was Nigel. And she was in a new, unexplored + world. Her little trembling hands clutched each other. The happy, light + girlish days full of ease and friendliness and decency seemed gone + forever. It was not Rosalie Vanderpoel who pressed her colourless face + against the glass of the window, looking out at the flying trees; it was + the wife of Nigel Anstruthers, and suddenly, by some hideous magic, she + had been snatched from the world to which she belonged and was being + dragged by a gaoler to a prison from which she did not know how to escape. + Already Nigel had managed to convey to her that in England a woman who was + married could do nothing to defend herself against her husband, and that + to endeavour to do anything was the last impossible touch of vulgar + ignominy. + </p> + <p> + The vivid realisation of the situation seized upon her like a possession + as she glanced sideways at her bridegroom and hurriedly glanced away again + with a little hysterical shudder. New York, good-tempered, lenient, free + New York, was millions of miles away and Nigel was so loathly near and—and + so ugly. She had never known before that he was so ugly, that his face was + so heavy, his skin so thick and coarse and his expression so evilly + ill-tempered. She was not sufficiently analytical to be conscious that she + had with one bound leaped to the appalling point of feeling uncontrollable + physical abhorrence of the creature to whom she was chained for life. She + was terrified at finding herself forced to combat the realisation that + there were certain expressions of his countenance which made her feel sick + with repulsion. Her self-reproach also was as great as her terror. He was + her husband—her husband—and she was a wicked girl. She + repeated the words to herself again and again, but remotely she knew that + when she said, “He is my husband,” that was the worst thing of + all. + </p> + <p> + This inward struggle was a bad preparation for any added misery, and when + their railroad journey terminated at Stornham Station she was met by new + bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + The station itself was a rustic place where wild roses climbed down a bank + to meet the very train itself. The station master's cottage had roses and + clusters of lilies waving in its tiny garden. The station master, a + good-natured, red-faced man, came forward, baring his head, to open the + railroad carriage door with his own hand. Rosy thought him delightful and + bowed and smiled sweet-temperedly to him and to his wife and little girls, + who were curtseying at the garden gate. She was sufficiently homesick to + be actually grateful to them for their air of welcoming her. But as she + smiled she glanced furtively at Nigel to see if she was doing exactly the + right thing. + </p> + <p> + He himself was not smiling and did not unbend even when the station + master, who had known him from his boyhood, felt at liberty to offer a + deferential welcome. + </p> + <p> + “Happy to see you home with her ladyship, Sir Nigel,” he said; + “very happy, if I may say so.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel responded to the respectful amiability with a half-military + lifting of his right hand, accompanied by a grunt. + </p> + <p> + “D'ye do, Wells,” he said, and strode past him to speak to the + footman who had come from Stornham Court with the carriage. + </p> + <p> + The new and nervous little Lady Anstruthers, who was left to trot after + her husband, smiled again at the ruddy, kind-looking fellow, this time in + conscious deprecation. In the simplicity of her republican sympathy with a + well-meaning fellow creature who might feel himself snubbed, she could + have shaken him by the hand. She had even parted her lips to venture a + word of civility when she was startled by hearing Sir Nigel's voice raised + in angry rating. + </p> + <p> + “Damned bad management not to bring something else,” she + heard. “Kind of thing you fellows are always doing.” + </p> + <p> + She made her way to the carriage, flurried again by not knowing whether + she was doing right or wrong. Sir Nigel had given her no instructions and + she had not yet learned that when he was in a certain humour there was + equal fault in obeying or disobeying such orders as he gave. + </p> + <p> + The carriage from the Court—not in the least a new or smart equipage—was + drawn up before the entrance of the station and Sir Nigel was in a rage + because the vehicle brought for the luggage was too small to carry it all. + </p> + <p> + “Very sorry, Sir Nigel,” said the coachman, touching his hat + two or three times in his agitation. “Very sorry. The omnibus was a + little out of order—the springs, Sir Nigel—and I thought——” + </p> + <p> + “You thought!” was the heated interruption. “What right + had you to think, damn it! You are not paid to think, you are paid to do + your work properly. Here are a lot of damned boxes which ought to go with + us and—where's your maid?” wheeling round upon his wife. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie turned towards the woman, who was approaching from the waiting + room. + </p> + <p> + “Hannah,” she said timorously. + </p> + <p> + “Drop those confounded bundles,” ordered Sir Nigel, “and + show James the boxes her ladyship is obliged to have this evening. Be + quick about it and don't pick out half a dozen. The cart can't take them.” + </p> + <p> + Hannah looked frightened. This sort of thing was new to her, too. She + shuffled her packages on to a seat and followed the footman to the + luggage. Sir Nigel continued rating the coachman. Any form of violent + self-assertion was welcome to him at any time, and when he was irritated + he found it a distinct luxury to kick a dog or throw a boot at a cat. The + springs of the omnibus, he argued, had no right to be broken when it was + known that he was coming home. His anger was only added to by the + coachman's halting endeavours in his excuses to veil a fact he knew his + master was aware of, that everything at Stornham was more or less out of + order, and that dilapidations were the inevitable result of there being no + money to pay for repairs. The man leaned forward on his box and spoke at + last in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “The bus has been broken some time,” he said. “It's—it's + an expensive job, Sir Nigel. Her ladyship thought it better to——” + Sir Nigel turned white about the mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue,” he commanded, and the coachman got red in + the face, saluted, biting his lips, and sat very stiff and upright on his + box. + </p> + <p> + The station master edged away uneasily and tried to look as if he were not + listening. But Rosalie could see that he could not help hearing, nor could + the country people who had been passengers by the train and who were + collecting their belongings and getting into their traps. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers was ignored and remained standing while the scene went + on. She could not help recalling the manner in which she had been + invariably received in New York on her return from any journey, how she + was met by comfortable, merry people and taken care of at once. This was + so strange, it was so queer, so different. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind, Nigel dear,” she said at last, with innocent + indiscretion. “It doesn't really matter, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel turned upon her a blaze of haughty indignation. + </p> + <p> + “If you'll pardon my saying so, it does matter,” he said. + “It matters confoundedly. Be good enough to take your place in the + carriage.” + </p> + <p> + He moved to the carriage door, and not too civilly put her in. She gasped + a little for breath as she sat down. He had spoken to her as if she had + been an impertinent servant who had taken a liberty. The poor girl was + bewildered to the verge of panic. When he had ended his tirade and took + his place beside her he wore his most haughtily intolerant air. + </p> + <p> + “May I request that in future you will be good enough not to + interfere when I am reproving my servants,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to interfere,” she apologised tremulously. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you meant. I only know what you did,” was + his response. “You American women are too fond of cutting in. An + Englishman can think for himself without his wife's assistance.” + </p> + <p> + The tears rose to her eyes. The introduction of the international question + overpowered her as always. + </p> + <p> + “Don't begin to be hysterical,” was the ameliorating + tenderness with which he observed the two hot salt drops which fell + despite her. “I should scarcely wish to present you to my mother + bathed in tears.” + </p> + <p> + She wiped the salt drops hastily away and sat for a moment silent in the + corner of the carriage. Being wholly primitive and unanalytical, she was + ashamed and began to blame herself. He was right. She must not be silly + because she was unused to things. She ought not to be disturbed by + trifles. She must try to be nice and look cheerful. She made an effort and + did no speak for a few minutes. When she had recovered herself she tried + again. + </p> + <p> + “English country is so pretty,” she said, when she thought she + was quite sure that her voice would not tremble. “I do so like the + hedges and the darling little red-roofed cottages.” + </p> + <p> + It was an innocent tentative at saying something agreeable which might + propitiate him. She was beginning to realise that she was continually + making efforts to propitiate him. But one of the forms of unpleasantness + most enjoyable to him was the snubbing of any gentle effort at palliating + his mood. He condescended in this case no response whatever, but merely + continued staring contemptuously before him. + </p> + <p> + “It is so picturesque, and so unlike America,” was the + pathetic little commonplace she ventured next. “Ain't it, Nigel?” + </p> + <p> + He turned his head slowly towards her, as if she had taken a new liberty + in disturbing his meditations. + </p> + <p> + “Wha—at?” he drawled. + </p> + <p> + It was almost too much for her to sustain herself under. Her courage + collapsed. + </p> + <p> + “I was only saying how pretty the cottages were,” she + faltered. “And that there's nothing like this in America.” + </p> + <p> + “You ended your remark by adding, 'ain't it,'” her husband + condescended. “There is nothing like that in England. I shall ask + you to do me the favour of leaving Americanisms out of your conversation + when you are in the society of English ladies and gentlemen. It won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know I said it,” Rosy answered feebly. + </p> + <p> + “That is the difficulty,” was his response. “You never + know, but educated people do.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing more to be said, at least for a girl who had never known + what it was to be bullied. This one felt like a beggar or a scullery maid, + who, being rated by her master, had not the refuge of being able to + “give warning.” She could never give warning. The Atlantic + Ocean was between her and those who had loved and protected her all her + short life, and the carriage was bearing her onwards to the home in which + she was to live alone as this man's companion to the end of her existence. + </p> + <p> + She made no further propitiatory efforts, but sat and stared in simple + blankness at the country, which seemed to increase in loveliness at each + new point of view. Sometimes she saw sweet wooded, rolling lands made + lovelier by the homely farmhouses and cottages enclosed and sheltered by + thick hedges and trees; once or twice they drove past a park enfolding a + great house guarded by its huge sentinel oaks and beeches; once the + carriage passed through an adorable little village, where children played + on the green and a square-towered grey church seemed to watch over the + steep-roofed cottages and creeper-covered vicarage. If she had been a + happy American tourist travelling in company with impressionable friends, + she would have broken into ecstatic little exclamations of admiration + every five minutes, but it had been driven home to her that to her present + companion, to whom nothing was new, her rapture would merely represent the + crudeness which had existed in contentment in a brown-stone house on a + noisy thoroughfare, through a life which had been passed tramping up and + down numbered streets and avenues. + </p> + <p> + They approached at last a second village with a green, a grass-grown + street and the irregular red-tiled cottages, which to the unaccustomed eye + seemed rather to represent studies for sketches than absolute realities. + The bells in the church tower broke forth into a chime and people appeared + at the doors of the cottages. The men touched their foreheads as the + carriage passed, and the children made bobbing curtsies. Sir Nigel + condescended to straighten himself a trifle in his seat, and recognised + the greetings with the stiff, half-military salute. The poor girl at his + side felt that he put as little feeling as possible into the movement, and + that if she herself had been a bowing villager she would almost have + preferred to be wholly ignored. She looked at him questioningly. + </p> + <p> + “Are they—must <i>I</i>?” she began. + </p> + <p> + “Make some civil recognition,” answered Sir Nigel, as if he + were instructing an ignorant child. “It is customary.” + </p> + <p> + So she bowed and tried to smile, and the joyous clamour of the bells + brought the awful lump into her throat again. It reminded her of the + ringing of the chimes at the New York church on that day of her marriage, + which had been so full of gay, luxurious bustle, so crowded with wedding + presents, and flowers, and warm-hearted, affectionate congratulations, and + good wishes uttered in merry American voices. + </p> + <p> + The park at Stornham Court was large and beautiful and old. The trees were + magnificent, and the broad sweep of sward and rich dip of ferny dell all + that the imagination could desire. The Court itself was old, and + many-gabled and mellow-red and fine. Rosalie had learned from no precedent + as yet that houses of its kind may represent the apotheosis of discomfort + and dilapidation within, and only become more beautiful without. + Tumbled-down chimneys and broken tiles, being clambered over by tossing + ivy, are pictures to delight the soul. + </p> + <p> + As she descended from the carriage the girl was tremulous and uncertain of + herself and much overpowered by the unbending air of the man-servant who + received her as if she were a parcel in which it was no part of his duty + to take the smallest interest. As she mounted the stone steps she caught a + glimpse of broad gloom within the threshold, a big, square, dingy hall + where some other servants were drawn up in a row. She had read of + something of the sort in English novels, and she was suddenly embarrassed + afresh by her realisation of the fact that she did not know what to do and + that if she made a mistake Nigel would never forgive her. + </p> + <p> + An elderly woman came out of a room opening into the hall. She was an ugly + woman of a rigid carriage, which, with the obvious intention of being + severely majestic, was only antagonistic. She had a flaccid chin, and was + curiously like Nigel. She had also his expression when he intended to be + disagreeable. She was the Dowager Lady Anstruthers, and being an entirely + revolting old person at her best, she objected extremely to the + transatlantic bride who had made her a dowager, though she was + determinedly prepared to profit by any practical benefit likely to accrue. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Nigel,” she said in a deep voice. “Here you are + at last.” + </p> + <p> + This was of course a statement not to be refuted. She held out a leathern + cheek, and as Sir Nigel also presented his, their caress of greeting was a + singular and not effusive one. + </p> + <p> + “Is this your wife?” she asked, giving Rosalie a bony hand. + And as he did not indignantly deny this to be the fact, she added, “How + do you do?” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie murmured a reply and tried to control herself by making another + effort to swallow the lump in her throat. But she could not swallow it. + She had been keeping a desperate hold on herself too long. The bewildered + misery of her awakening, the awkwardness of the public row at the station, + the sulks which had filled the carriage to repletion through all the long + drive, and finally the jangling bells which had so recalled that last + joyous day at home—at home—had brought her to a point where + this meeting between mother and son—these two stony, unpleasant + creatures exchanging a reluctant rub of uninviting cheeks—as two + savages might have rubbed noses—proved the finishing impetus to + hysteria. They were so hideous, these two, and so ghastly comic and + fantastic in their unresponsive glumness, that the poor girl lost all hold + upon herself and broke into a trembling shriek of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she gasped in terror at what she felt to be her indecent + madness. “Oh! how—how——” And then seeing + Nigel's furious start, his mother's glare and all the servants' alarmed + stare at her, she rushed staggering to the only creature she felt she knew—her + maid Hannah, clutched her and broke down into wild sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, take me away!” she cried. “Oh, do! Oh, do! Oh, + Hannah! Oh, mother—mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Take your mistress to her room,” commanded Sir Nigel. “Go + downstairs,” he called out to the servants. “Take her upstairs + at once and throw water in her face,” to the excited Hannah. + </p> + <p> + And as the new Lady Anstruthers was half led, half dragged, in humiliated + hysteric disorder up the staircase, he took his mother by the elbow, + marched her into the nearest room and shut the door. There they stood and + stared at each other, breathing quick, enraged breaths and looking + particularly alike with their heavy-featured, thick-skinned, infuriated + faces. + </p> + <p> + It was the Dowager who spoke first, and her whole voice and manner + expressed all she intended that they should, all the derision, dislike and + scathing resignment to a grotesque fate. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said her ladyship. “So THIS is what you have + brought home from America!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + A MISTAKE OF THE POSTBOY'S + </h3> + <p> + As the weeks passed at Stornham Court the Atlantic Ocean seemed to Rosalie + Anstruthers to widen endlessly, and gay, happy, noisy New York to recede + until it was as far away as some memory of heaven. The girl had been born + in the midst of the rattling, rumbling bustle, and it had never struck her + as assuming the character of noise; she had only thought of it as being + the cheerful confusion inseparable from town. She had been secretly + offended and hurt when strangers said that New York was noisy and dirty; + when they called it vulgar, she never wholly forgave them. She was of the + New Yorkers who adore their New York as Parisians adore Paris and who feel + that only within its beloved boundaries can the breath of life be + breathed. People were often too hot or too cold there, but there was + usually plenty of bright glaring sun, and the extremes of the weather had + at least something rather dramatic about them. There were dramatic + incidents connected with them, at any rate. People fell dead of sunstroke + or were frozen to death, and the newspapers were full of anecdotes during + a “cold snap” or a “torrid wave,” which all made + for excitement and conversation. + </p> + <p> + But at Stornham the rain seemed to young Lady Anstruthers to descend + ceaselessly. The season was a wet one, and when she rose in the morning + and looked out over the huge stretch of trees and sward she thought she + always saw the rain falling either in hopeless sheets or more hopeless + drizzle. The occasions upon which this was a dreary truth blotted out or + blurred the exceptions, when in liquid ultramarine deeps of sky, floated + islands and mountains of snow-white fleece, of a beauty of which she had + before had no conception. + </p> + <p> + In the English novels she had read, places such as Stornham Court were + always filled with “house parties,” made up of wonderful town + wits and beauties, who provided endless entertainment for each other, who + played games, who hunted and shot pheasants and shone in dazzling amateur + theatricals. There were, however, no visitors at Stornham, and there were + in fact, no accommodations for any. There were numberless bedrooms, but + none really fit for guests to occupy. Carpets and curtains were ancient + and ragged, furniture was dilapidated, chimneys would not draw, beds were + falling to pieces. The Dowager Lady Anstruthers had never either attracted + desired, or been able to afford company. Her son's wife suffered from the + resulting boredom and unpopularity without being able to comprehend the + significance of the situation. + </p> + <p> + As the weeks dragged by a few heavy carriages deposited at the Court a few + callers. Some of the visitors bore imposing titles, which made Rosalie + very nervous and caused her hastily to array herself to receive them in + toilettes much too pretty and delicate for the occasion. Her innocent idea + was that she must do her husband credit by appearing as “stylish” + as possible. + </p> + <p> + As a result she was stared at, either with open disfavour, or with + well-bred, furtive criticism, and was described afterwards as being either + “very American” or “very over-dressed.” When she + had lived in huge rooms in Fifth Avenue, Rosalie had changed her attire as + many times a day as she had changed her fancy; every hour had been filled + with engagements and amusements; the Vanderpoel carriages had driven up to + the door and driven away again and again through the mornings and + afternoons and until midnight and later. Someone was always going out or + coming in. There had been in the big handsome house not much more of an + air of repose than one might expect to find at a railway station; but the + flurry, the coming and going, the calling and chatting had all been + cheery, amiable. At Stornham, Rosalie sat at breakfast before unchanging + boiled eggs, unfailing toast and unalterable broiled bacon, morning after + morning. Sir Nigel sat and munched over the newspapers, his mother, with + an air of relentless disapproval from a lofty height of both her food and + companions, disposed of her eggs and her rasher at Rosalie's right hand. + She had transferred to her daughter-in-law her previously occupied seat at + the head of the table. This had been done with a carefully prepared scene + of intense though correct disagreeableness, in which she had managed to + convey all the rancour of her dethroned spirit and her disapproval and + disdain of international alliances. + </p> + <p> + “It is of course proper that you should sit at the head of your + husband's table,” she had said, among other agreeable things. + “A woman having devoted her life to her son must relinquish her + position to the person he chooses to marry. If you should have a son you + will give up your position to his wife. Since Nigel has married you, he + has, of course, a right to expect that you will at least make an effort to + learn something of what is required of women of your position.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Rosalie,” said Nigel. “Of course you take the + head of the table, and naturally you must learn what is expected of my + wife, but don't talk confounded rubbish, mother, about devoting your life + to your son. We have seen about as little of each other as we could help. + We never agreed.” They were both bullies and each made occasional + efforts at bullying the other without any particular result. But each + could at least bully the other into intensified unpleasantness. + </p> + <p> + The vicar's wife having made her call of ceremony upon the new Lady + Anstruthers, followed up the acquaintance, and found her quite exotically + unlike her mother-in-law, whose charities one may be sure had neither been + lavish nor dispensed by any hand less impressive than her own. The younger + woman was of wholly malleable material. Her sympathies were easily + awakened and her purse was well filled and readily opened. Small families + or large ones, newly born infants or newly buried ones, old women with + “bad legs” and old men who needed comforts, equally touched + her heart. She innocently bestowed sovereigns where an Englishwoman would + have known that half-crowns would have been sufficient. As the vicaress + was her almoner that lady felt her importance rapidly on the increase. + When she left a cottage saying, “I'll speak to young Lady + Anstruthers about you,” the good woman of the house curtsied low and + her husband touched his forehead respectfully. + </p> + <p> + But this did not advance the fortunes of Sir Nigel, who personally + required of her very different things. Two weeks after her arrival at + Stornham, Rosalie began to see that somehow she was regarded as a person + almost impudently in the wrong. It appeared that if she had been an + English girl she would have been quite different, that she would have been + an advantage instead of a detriment. As an American she was a detriment. + That seemed to go without saying. She tried to do everything she was told, + and learn something from each cold insinuation. She did not know that her + very amenability and timidity were her undoing. Sir Nigel and his mother + thoroughly enjoyed themselves at her expense. They knew they could say + anything they chose, and that at the most she would only break down into + crying and afterwards apologise for being so badly behaved. If some + practical, strong-minded person had been near to defend her she might have + been rescued promptly and her tyrants routed. But she was a young girl, + tender of heart and weak of nature. She used to cry a great deal when she + was alone, and when she wrote to her mother she was too frightened to tell + the truth concerning her unhappiness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if I could just see some of them!” she would wail to + herself. “If I could just see mother or father or anybody from New + York! Oh, I know I shall never see New York again, or Broadway or Fifth + Avenue or Central Park—I never—never—never shall!” + And she would grovel among her pillows, burying her face and half stifling + herself lest her sobs should be heard. Her feeling for her husband had + become one of terror and repulsion. She was almost more afraid of his + patronising, affectionate moments than she was of his temper. + </p> + <p> + His conjugal condescensions made her feel vaguely—without knowing + why—as if she were some lower order of little animal. + </p> + <p> + American women, he said, had no conception of wifely duties and affection. + He had a great deal to say on the subject of wifely duty. It was part of + her duty as a wife to be entirely satisfied with his society, and to be + completely happy in the pleasure it afforded her. It was her wifely duty + not to talk about her own family and palpitatingly expect letters by every + American mail. He objected intensely to this letter writing and receiving, + and his mother shared his prejudices. + </p> + <p> + “You have married an Englishman,” her ladyship said. “You + have put it out of his power to marry an Englishwoman, and the least + consideration you can show is to let New York and Nine-hundredth street + remain upon the other side of the Atlantic and not insist on dragging them + into Stornham Court.” + </p> + <p> + The Dowager Lady Anstruthers was very fine in her picture of her mental + condition, when she realised, as she seemed periodically to do, that it + was no longer possible for her son to make a respectable marriage with a + woman of his own nation. The unadorned fact was that both she and Sir + Nigel were infuriated by the simplicity which made Rosalie slow in + comprehending that it was proper that the money her father allowed her + should be placed in her husband's hands, and left there with no indelicate + questioning. If she had been an English girl matters would have been made + plain to her from the first and arranged satisfactorily before her + marriage. Sir Nigel's mother considered that he had played the fool, and + would not believe that New York fathers were such touchy, sentimental + idiots as not to know what was expected of them. + </p> + <p> + They wasted no time, however, in coming to the point, and in a measure it + was the vicaress who aided them. Not she entirely, however. + </p> + <p> + Since her mother-in-law's first mention of a possible son whose wife would + eventually thrust her from her seat at the head of the table, Rosalie had + several times heard this son referred to. It struck her that in England + such things seemed discussed with more freedom than in America. She had + never heard a young woman's possible family arranged for and made the + subject of conversation in the more crude atmosphere of New York. It made + her feel rather awkward at first. Then she began to realise that the son + was part of her wifely duty also; that she was expected to provide one, + and that he was in some way expected to provide for the estate—to + rehabilitate it—and that this was because her father, being a rich + man, would provide for him. It had also struck her that in England there + was a tendency to expectation that someone would “provide” for + someone else, that relatives even by marriage were supposed to “make + allowances” on which it was quite proper for other persons to live. + Rosalie had been accustomed to a community in which even rich men worked, + and in which young and able-bodied men would have felt rather indignant if + aunts or uncles had thought it necessary to pension them off as if they + had been impotent paupers. It was Rosalie's son who was to be “provided + for” in this case, and who was to “provide for” his + father. + </p> + <p> + “When you have a son,” her mother-in-law had remarked + severely, “I suppose something will be done for Nigel and the + estate.” + </p> + <p> + This had been said before she had been ten days in the house, and had set + her not-too-quick brain working. She had already begun to see that life at + Stornham Court was not the luxurious affair it was in the house in Fifth + Avenue. Things were shabby and queer and not at all comfortable. Fires + were not lighted because a day was chilly and gloomy. She had once asked + for one in her bedroom and her mother-in-law had reproved her for indecent + extravagance in a manner which took her breath away. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose in America you have your house at furnace heat in July,” + she said. “Mere wastefulness and self-indulgence! That is why + Americans are old women at twenty. They are shrivelled and withered by the + unhealthy lives they lead. Stuffing themselves with sweets and hot bread + and never breathing the fresh air.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie could not at the moment recall any withered and shrivelled old + women of twenty, but she blushed and stammered as usual. + </p> + <p> + “It is never cold enough for fires in July,” she answered, + “but we—we never think fires extravagant when we are not + comfortable without them.” + </p> + <p> + “Coal must be cheaper than it is in England,” said her + ladyship. “When you have a daughter, I hope you do not expect to + bring her up as girls are brought up in New York.” + </p> + <p> + This was the first time Rosalie had heard of her daughter, and she was not + ready enough to reply. She naturally went into her room and cried again, + wondering what her father and mother would say if they knew that bedroom + fires were considered vulgarly extravagant by an impressive member of the + British aristocracy. + </p> + <p> + She was not at all strong at the time and was given to feeling chilly and + miserable on wet, windy days. She used to cry more than ever and was so + desolate that there were days when she used to go to the vicarage for + companionship. On such days the vicar's wife would entertain her with + stories of the villagers' catastrophes, and she would empty her purse upon + the tea table and feel a little consoled because she was the means of + consoling someone else. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it gratifies your vanity to play the Lady Bountiful,” + Sir Nigel sneered one evening, having heard in the village what she was + doing. + </p> + <p> + “I—never thought of such a thing,” she stammered feebly. + “Mrs. Brent said they were so poor.” + </p> + <p> + “You throw your money about as if you were a child,” said her + mother-in-law. “It is a pity it is not put in the hands of some + person with discretion.” + </p> + <p> + It had begun to dawn upon Rosalie that her ladyship was deeply convinced + that either herself or her son would be admirably discreet custodians of + the money referred to. And even the dawning of this idea had frightened + the girl. She was so inexperienced and ignorant that she felt it might be + possible that in England one's husband and one's mother-in-law could do + what they liked. It might be that they could take possession of one's + money as they seemed to take possession of one's self and one's very soul. + She would have been very glad to give them money, and had indeed wondered + frequently if she might dare to offer it to them, if they would be + outraged and insulted and slay her in their wrath at her purse-proud + daring. She had tried to invent ways in which she could approach the + subject, but had not been able to screw up her courage to any sticking + point. She was so overpowered by her consciousness that they seemed + continually to intimate that Americans with money were ostentatious and + always laying stress upon the amount of their possessions. She had no + conception of the primeval simpleness of their attitude in such matters, + and that no ceremonies were necessary save the process of transferring + sufficiently large sums as though they were the mere right of the + recipients. She was taught to understand this later. In the meantime, + however, ready as she would have been to give large sums if she had known + how, she was terrified by the thought that it might be possible that she + could be deprived of her bank account and reduced to the condition of a + sort of dependent upon the humours of her lately acquired relations. She + thought over this a good deal, and would have found immense relief if she + dared have consulted anyone. But she could not make up her mind to reveal + her unhappiness to her people. She had been married so recently, everybody + had thought her marriage so delightful, she could not bear that her father + and mother should be distressed by knowing that she was wretched. She also + reflected with misery that New York would talk the matter over excitedly + and that finally the newspapers would get hold of the gossip. She could + even imagine interviewers calling at the house in Fifth Avenue and + endeavouring to obtain particulars of the situation. Her father would be + angry and refuse to give them, but that would make no difference; the + newspapers would give them and everybody would read what they said, + whether it was true or not. She could not possibly write facts, she + thought, so her poor little letters were restrained and unlike herself, + and to the warm-hearted souls in New York, even appearing stiff and + unaffectionate, as if her aristocratic surroundings had chilled her love + for them. In fact, it became far from easy for her to write at all, since + Sir Nigel so disapproved of her interest in the American mail. His + objections had indeed taken the form of his feeling himself quite within + his rights when he occasionally intercepted letters from her relations, + with a view of finding out whether they contained criticisms of himself, + which would betray that she had been guilty of indiscreet confidences. He + discovered that she had not apparently been so guilty, but it was evident + that there were moments when Mrs. Vanderpoel was uneasy and disposed to + ask anxious questions. When this occurred he destroyed the letters, and as + a result of this precaution on his part her motherly queries seemed to be + ignored, and she several times shed tears in the belief that Rosy had + grown so patrician that she was capable of snubbing her mother in her + resentment at feeling her privacy intruded upon and an unrefined + effusiveness shown. + </p> + <p> + “I just feel as if she was beginning not to care about us at all, + Betty,” she said. “I couldn't have believed it of Rosy. She + was always such an affectionate girl.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it now,” replied Betty sharply. “Rosy + couldn't grow hateful and stuck up. It's that nasty Nigel I know it is.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel's intention was that there should be as little intercourse + between Fifth Avenue and Stornham Court as was possible. Among other + things, he did not intend that a lot of American relations should come + tumbling in when they chose to cross the Atlantic. He would not have it, + and took discreet steps to prevent any accident of the sort. He wrote to + America occasionally himself, and knowing well how to make himself civilly + repellent, so subtly chilled his parents-in-law as to discourage in them + more than once their half-formed plan of paying a visit to their child in + her new home. He opened, read and reclosed all epistles to and from New + York, and while Mrs. Vanderpoel was much hurt to find that Rosalie never + condescended to make any response to her tentatives concerning her + possible visit, Rosalie herself was mystified by the fact that the journey + “to Europe” was never spoken of. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see why they never seem to think of coming over,” she + said plaintively one day. “They used to talk so much about it.” + </p> + <p> + “They?” ejaculated the Dowager Lady Anstruthers. “Whom + may you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Mother and father and Betty and some of the others.” + </p> + <p> + Her mother-in-law put up her eye-glasses to stare at her. + </p> + <p> + “The whole family?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “There are not so many of them,” Rosalie answered. + </p> + <p> + “A family is always too many to descend upon a young woman when she + is married,” observed her ladyship unmovedly. Nigel glanced over the + top of his Times. + </p> + <p> + “I may as well tell you that it would not do at all,” he put + in. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why not?” exclaimed Rosalie, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “Americans don't do in English society,” slightingly. + </p> + <p> + “But they are coming over so much. They like London so—all + Americans like London.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they?” with a drawl which made Rosalie blush until the + tears started to her eyes. “I am afraid the sentiment is scarcely + mutual.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie turned and fled from the room. She turned and fled because she + realised that she should burst out crying if she waited to hear another + word, and she realised that of late she seemed always to be bursting out + crying before one or the other of those two. She could not help it. They + always seemed to be implying something slighting or scathing. They were + always putting her in the wrong and hurting her feelings. + </p> + <p> + The day was damp and chill, but she put on her hat and ran out into the + park. She went down the avenue and turned into a coppice. There, among the + wet bracken, she sank down on the mossy trunk of a fallen tree and huddled + herself in a small heap, her head on her arms, actually wailing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother! Oh, mother!” she cried hysterically. “Oh, I + do wish you would come. I'm so cold, mother; I'm so ill! I can't bear it! + It seems as if you'd forgotten all about me! You're all so happy in New + York that perhaps you have forgotten—perhaps you have! Oh, don't, + mother—don't!” + </p> + <p> + It was a month later that through the vicar's wife she reached a discovery + and a climax. She had heard one morning from this lady of a misfortune + which had befallen a small farmer. It was a misfortune which was an actual + catastrophe to a man in his position. His house had caught fire during a + gale of wind and the fire had spread to the outbuildings and rickyard and + swept away all his belongings, his house, his furniture, his hayricks, and + stored grain, and even his few cows and horses. He had been a poor, + hard-working fellow, and his small insurance had lapsed the day before the + fire. He was absolutely ruined, and with his wife and six children stood + face to face with beggary and starvation. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie Anstruthers entered the vicarage to find the poor woman who was + his companion in calamity sobbing in the hall. A child of a few weeks was + in her arms, and two small creatures clung crying to her skirts. + </p> + <p> + “We've worked hard,” she wept; “we have, ma'am. Father, + he's always been steady, an' up early an' late. P'r'aps it's the Lord's + 'and, as you say, ma'am, but we've been decent people an' never missed + church when we could 'elp it—father didn't deserve it—that he + didn't.” + </p> + <p> + She was heartbroken in her downtrodden hopelessness. Rosalie literally + quaked with sympathy. She poured forth her pity in such words as the poor + woman had never heard spoken by a great lady to a humble creature like + herself. The villagers found the new Lady Anstruthers' interviews with + them curiously simple and suggestive of an equality they could not + understand. Stornham was a conservative old village, where the distinction + between the gentry and the peasants was clearly marked. The cottagers were + puzzled by Sir Nigel's wife, but they decided that she was kind, if + unusual. + </p> + <p> + As Rosalie talked to the farmer's wife she longed for her father's + presence. She had remembered a time when a man in his employ had lost his + all by fire, the small house he had just made his last payment upon having + been burned to the ground. He had lost one of his children in the fire, + and the details had been heartrending. The entire Vanderpoel household had + wept on hearing them, and Mr. Vanderpoel had drawn a cheque which had + seemed like a fortune to the sufferer. A new house had been bought, and + Mrs. Vanderpoel and her daughters and friends had bestowed furniture and + clothing enough to make the family comfortable to the verge of luxury. + </p> + <p> + “See, you poor thing,” said Rosalie, glowing with memories of + this incident, her homesick young soul comforted by the mere likeness in + the two calamities. “I brought my cheque book with me because I + meant to help you. A man worked for my father had his house burned, just + as yours was, and my father made everything all right for him again. I'll + make it all right for you; I'll make you a cheque for a hundred pounds + now, and then when your husband begins to build I'll give him some more.” + </p> + <p> + The woman gasped for breath and turned pale. She was frightened. It really + seemed as if her ladyship must have lost her wits a little. She could not + mean this. The vicaress turned pale also. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Anstruthers,” she said, “Lady Anstruthers, it—it + is too much. Sir Nigel——” + </p> + <p> + “Too much!” exclaimed Rosalie. “They have lost + everything, you know; their hayricks and cattle as well as their house; I + guess it won't be half enough.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brent dragged her into the vicar's study and talked to her. She tried + to explain that in English villages such things were not done in a manner + so casual, as if they were the mere result of unconsidered feeling, as if + they were quite natural things, such as any human person might do. When + Rosalie cried: “But why not—why not? They ought to be.” + Mrs. Brent could not seem to make herself quite clear. Rosalie only + gathered in a bewildered way that there ought to be more ceremony, more + deliberation, more holding off, before a person of rank indulged in such + munificence. The recipient ought to be made to feel it more, to understand + fully what a great thing was being done. + </p> + <p> + “They will think you will do anything for them.” + </p> + <p> + “So I will,” said young Lady Anstruthers, “if I have the + money when they are in such awful trouble. Suppose we lost everything in + the world and there were people who could easily help us and wouldn't?” + </p> + <p> + “You and Sir Nigel—that is quite different,” said Mrs. + Brent. “I am afraid that if you do not discuss the matter and ask + advice from your husband and mother-in-law they will be very much + offended.” + </p> + <p> + “If I were doing it with their money they would have the right to + be,” replied Rosalie, with entire ingenuousness. “I wouldn't + presume to do such a thing as that. That wouldn't be right, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “They will be angry with me,” said the vicaress awkwardly. + This queer, silly girl, who seemed to see nothing in the right light, + frequently made her feel awkward. Mrs. Brent told her husband that she + appeared to have no sense of dignity or proper appreciation of her + position. + </p> + <p> + The wife of the farmer, John Wilson, carried away the cheque, quite + stunned. She was breathless with amazement and turned rather faint with + excitement, bewilderment and her sense of relief. She had to sit down in + the vicarage kitchen for a few minutes and drink a glass of the thin + vicarage beer. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie promised that she would discuss the matter and ask advice when she + returned to the Court. Just as she left the house Mrs. Brent suddenly + remembered something she had forgotten. + </p> + <p> + “The Wilson trouble completely drove it out of my mind,” she + said. “It was a stupid mistake of the postboy's. He left a letter of + yours among mine when he came this morning. It was most careless. I shall + speak to his father about it. It might have been important that you should + receive it early.” + </p> + <p> + When she saw the letter Rosalie uttered an exclamation. It was addressed + in her father's handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried. “It's from father! And the postmark is + Havre. What does it mean?” + </p> + <p> + She was so excited that she almost forgot to express her thanks. Her heart + leaped up in her throat. Could they have come over from America—could + they? Why was it written from Havre? Could they be near her? + </p> + <p> + She walked along the road choked with ecstatic, laughing sobs. Her hand + shook so that she could scarcely tear open the envelope; she tore a corner + of the letter, and when the sheet was spread open her eyes were full of + wild, delighted tears, which made it impossible for her to see for the + moment. But she swept the tears away and read this: + </p> + <p> + DEAR DAUGHTER: + </p> + <p> + It seems as if we had had pretty bad luck in not seeing you. We had + counted on it very much, and your mother feels it all the more because she + is weak after her illness. We don't quite understand why you did not seem + to know about her having had diphtheria in Paris. You did not answer + Betty's letter. Perhaps it missed you in some way. Things do sometimes go + wrong in the mail, and several times your mother has thought a letter has + been lost. She thought so because you seemed to forget to refer to things. + We came over to leave Betty at a French school and we had expected to + visit you later. But your mother fell ill of diphtheria and not hearing + from you seemed to make her homesick, so we decided to return to New York + by the next steamer. I ran over to London, however, to make some inquiries + about you, and on the first day I arrived I met your husband in Bond + Street. He at once explained to me that you had gone to a house party at + some castle in Scotland, and said you were well and enjoying yourself very + much, and he was on his way to join you. I am sorry, daughter, that it has + turned out that we could not see each other. It seems a long time since + you left us. But I am very glad, however, that you are so well and really + like English life. If we had time for it I am sure it would be delightful. + Your mother sends her love and wants very much to hear of all you are + doing and enjoying. Hoping that we may have better luck the next time we + cross— + </p> + <p> + Your affectionate father, + </p> + <p> + REUBEN L. VANDERPOEL. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie found herself running breathlessly up the avenue. She was + clutching the letter still in her hand, and staggering from side to side. + Now and then she uttered horrible little short cries, like an animal's. + She ran and ran, seeing nothing, and now and then with the clenched hand + in which the letter was crushed striking a sharp blow at her breast. + </p> + <p> + She stumbled up the big stone steps she had mounted on the day she was + brought home as a bride. Her dress caught her feet and she fell on her + knees and scrambled up again, gasping; she dashed across the huge dark + hall, and, hurling herself against the door of the morning room, appeared, + dishevelled, haggard-eyed, and with scarlet patches on her wild, white + face, before the Dowager, who started angrily to her feet: + </p> + <p> + “Where is Nigel? Where is Nigel?” she cried out frenziedly. + </p> + <p> + “What in heaven's name do you mean by such manners?” demanded + her ladyship. “Apologise at once!” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Nigel? Nigel! Nigel!” the girl raved. “I will + see him—I will—I will see him!” + </p> + <p> + She who had been the mildest of sweet-tempered creatures all her life had + suddenly gone almost insane with heartbroken, hysteric grief and rage. She + did not know what she was saying and doing; she only realised in an agony + of despair that she was a thing caught in a trap; that these people had + her in their power, and that they had tricked and lied to her and kept her + apart from what her girl's heart so cried out to and longed for. Her + father, her mother, her little sister; they had been near her and had been + lied to and sent away. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite mad, you violent, uncontrolled creature!” cried + the Dowager furiously. “You ought to be put in a straitjacket and + drenched with cold water.” + </p> + <p> + Then the door opened again and Nigel strode in. He was in riding dress and + was breathless and livid with anger. He was in a nice mood to confront a + wife on the verge of screaming hysterics. After a bad half hour with his + steward, who had been talking of impending disasters, he had heard by + chance of Wilson's conflagration and the hundred-pound cheque. He had + galloped home at the top of his horse's speed. + </p> + <p> + “Here is your wife raving mad,” cried out his mother. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie staggered across the room to him. She held up her hand clenching + the letter and shook it at him. + </p> + <p> + “My mother and father have been here,” she shrieked. My mother + has been ill. They wanted to come to see me. You knew and you kept it from + me. You told my father lies—lies—hideous lies! You said I was + away in Scotland—enjoying myself—when I was here and dying + with homesickness. You made them think I did not care for them—or + for New York! You have killed me! Why did you do such a wicked thing! + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with glaring eyes. If a man born a gentleman is ever in + the mood to kick his wife to death, as costermongers do, he was in that + mood. He had lost control over himself as completely as she had, and while + she was only a desperate, hysteric girl, he was a violent man. + </p> + <p> + “I did it because I did not mean to have them here,” he said. + “I did it because I won't have them here.” + </p> + <p> + “They shall come,” she quavered shrilly in her wildness. + “They shall come to see me. They are my own father and mother, and I + will have them.” + </p> + <p> + He caught her arm in such a grip that she must have thought he would break + it, if she could have thought or felt anything. + </p> + <p> + “No, you will not have them,” he ground forth between his + teeth. “You will do as I order you and learn to behave yourself as a + decent married woman should. You will learn to obey your husband and + respect his wishes and control your devilish American temper.” + </p> + <p> + “They have gone—gone!” wailed Rosalie. “You sent + them away! My father, my mother, my sister!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop your indecent ravings!” ordered Sir Nigel, shaking her. + “I will not submit to be disgraced before the servants.” + </p> + <p> + “Put your hand over her mouth, Nigel,” cried his mother. + “The very scullery maids will hear.” + </p> + <p> + She was as infuriated as her son. And, indeed, to behold civilised human + beings in the state of uncontrolled violence these three had reached was a + sight to shudder at. + </p> + <p> + “I won't stop,” cried the girl. “Why did you take me + away from everything—I was quite happy. Everybody was kind to me. I + loved people, I had everything. No one ever—ever—ever ill-used + anyone——” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel clutched her arm more brutally still and shook her with absolute + violence. Her hair broke loose and fell about her awful little distorted, + sobbing face. + </p> + <p> + “I did not take you to give you an opportunity to display your + vulgar ostentation by throwing away hundred-pound cheques to villagers,” + he said. “I didn't take you to give you the position of a lady and + be made a fool of by you.” + </p> + <p> + “You have ruined him,” burst forth his mother. “You have + put it out of his power to marry an Englishwoman who would have known it + was her duty to give something in return for his name and protection.” + </p> + <p> + Her ladyship had begun to rave also, and as mother and son were of equal + violence when they had ceased to control themselves, Rosalie began to find + herself enlightened unsparingly. She and her people were vulgar sharpers. + They had trapped a gentleman into a low American marriage and had not the + decency to pay for what they had got. If she had been an Englishwoman, + well born, and of decent breeding, all her fortune would have been + properly transferred to her husband and he would have had the dispensing + of it. Her husband would have been in the position to control her + expenditure and see that she did not make a fool of herself. As it was she + was the derision of all decent people, of all people who had been properly + brought up and knew what was in good taste and of good morality. + </p> + <p> + First it was the Dowager who poured forth, and then it was Sir Nigel. They + broke in on each other, they interrupted one another with exclamations and + interpolations. They had so far lost themselves that they did not know + they became grotesque in the violence of their fury. Rosalie's brain + whirled. Her hysteria mounted and mounted. She stared first at one and + then at the other, gasping and sobbing by turns; she swayed on her feet + and clutched at a chair. + </p> + <p> + “I did not know,” she broke forth at last, trying to make her + voice heard in the storm. “I never understood. I knew something made + you hate me, but I didn't know you were angry about money.” She + laughed tremulously and wildly. “I would have given it to you—father + would have given you some—if you had been good to me.” The + laugh became hysterical beyond her management. Peal after peal broke from + her, she shook all over with her ghastly merriment, sobbing at one and the + same time. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh! oh!” she shrieked. “You see, I thought you were + so aristocratic. I wouldn't have dared to think of such a thing. I thought + an English gentleman—an English gentleman—oh! oh! to think it + was all because I did not give you money—just common dollars and + cents that—that I daren't offer to a decent American who could work + for himself.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel sprang at her. He struck her with his open hand upon the cheek, + and as she reeled she held up her small, feverish, shaking hand, laughing + more wildly than before. + </p> + <p> + “You ought not to strike me,” she cried. “You oughtn't! + You don't know how valuable I am. Perhaps——” with a + little, crazy scream—“perhaps I might have a son.” + </p> + <p> + She fell in a shuddering heap, and as she dropped she struck heavily + against the protruding end of an oak chest and lay upon the floor, her + arms flung out and limp, as if she were a dead thing. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + ON BOTH SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC + </h3> + <p> + In the course of twelve years the Shuttle had woven steadily and—its + movements lubricated by time and custom—with increasing rapidity. + Threads of commerce it caught up and shot to and fro, with threads of + literature and art, threads of life drawn from one shore to the other and + back again, until they were bound in the fabric of its weaving. Coldness + there had been between both lands, broad divergence of taste and thought, + argument across seas, sometimes resentment, but the web in Fate's hands + broadened and strengthened and held fast. Coldness faintly warmed despite + itself, taste and thought drawn into nearer contact, reflecting upon their + divergences, grew into tolerance and the knowledge that the diverging, + seen more clearly, was not so broad; argument coming within speaking + distance reasoned itself to logical and practical conclusions. Problems + which had stirred anger began to find solutions. Books, in the first + place, did perhaps more than all else. Cheap, pirated editions of English + works, much quarrelled over by authors and publishers, being scattered + over the land, brought before American eyes soft, home-like pictures of + places which were, after all was said and done, the homes of those who + read of them, at least in the sense of having been the birthplaces of + fathers or grandfathers. Some subtle, far-reaching power of nature caused + a stirring of the blood, a vague, unexpressed yearning and lingering over + pages which depicted sweet, green lanes, broad acres rich with centuries + of nourishment and care; grey church towers, red roofs, and village + children playing before cottage doors. None of these things were new to + those who pondered over them, kinsmen had dwelt on memories of them in + their fireside talk, and their children had seen them in fancy and in + dreams. Old grievances having had time to fade away and take on less + poignant colour, the stirring of the blood stirred also imaginations, and + wakened something akin to homesickness, though no man called the feeling + by its name. And this, perhaps, was the strongest cord the Shuttle wove + and was the true meaning of its power. Being drawn by it, Americans in + increasing numbers turned their faces towards the older land. Gradually it + was discovered that it was the simplest affair in the world to drive down + to the wharves and take a steamer which landed one, after a more or less + interesting voyage, in Liverpool, or at some other convenient port. From + there one went to London, or Paris, or Rome; in fact, whithersoever one's + fancy guided, but first or last it always led the traveller to the + treading of green, velvet English turf. And once standing on such velvet, + both men and women, looking about them, felt, despite themselves, the + strange old thrill which some of them half resented and some warmly loved. + </p> + <p> + In the course of twelve years, a length of time which will transform a + little girl wearing a short frock into a young woman wearing a long one, + the pace of life and the ordering of society may become so altered as to + appear amazing when one finds time to reflect on the subject. But one does + not often find time. Changes occur so gradually that one scarcely observes + them, or so swiftly that they take the form of a kind of amazed shock + which one gets over as quickly as one experiences it and realises that its + cause is already a fixed fact. + </p> + <p> + In the United States of America, which have not yet acquired the serene + sense of conservative self-satisfaction and repose which centuries of age + may bestow, the spirit of life itself is the aspiration for change. + Ambition itself only means the insistence on change. Each day is to be + better than yesterday fuller of plans, of briskness, of initiative. Each + to-day demands of to-morrow new men, new minds, new work. A to-day which + has not launched new ships, explored new countries, constructed new + buildings, added stories to old ones, may consider itself a failure, + unworthy even of being consigned to the limbo of respectable yesterdays. + Such a country lives by leaps and bounds, and the ten years which followed + the marriage of Reuben Vanderpoel's eldest daughter made many such bounds + and leaps. They were years which initiated and established international + social relations in a manner which caused them to incorporate themselves + with the history of both countries. As America discovered Europe, that + continent discovered America. American beauties began to appear in English + drawing-rooms and Continental salons. They were presented at court and + commented upon in the Row and the Bois. Their little transatlantic tricks + of speech and their mots were repeated with gusto. It became understood + that they were amusing and amazing. Americans “came in” as the + heroes and heroines of novels and stories. Punch delighted in them vastly. + Shopkeepers and hotel proprietors stocked, furnished, and provisioned for + them. They spent money enormously and were singularly indifferent (at the + outset) under imposition. They “came over” in a manner as + epoch-making, though less war-like than that of William the Conqueror. + </p> + <p> + International marriages ceased to be a novelty. As Bettina Vanderpoel grew + up, she grew up, so to speak, in the midst of them. She saw her country, + its people, its newspapers, its literature, innocently rejoiced by the + alliances its charming young women contracted with foreign rank. She saw + it affectionately, gleefully, rubbing its hands over its duchesses, its + countesses, its miladies. The American Eagle spread its wings and flapped + them sometimes a trifle, over this new but so natural and inevitable + triumph of its virgins. It was of course only “American” that + such things should happen. America ruled the universe, and its women ruled + America, bullying it a little, prettily, perhaps. What could be more a + matter of course than that American women, being aided by adoring fathers, + brothers and husbands, sumptuously to ship themselves to other lands, + should begin to rule these lands also? Betty, in her growing up, heard all + this intimated. At twelve years old, though she had detested Rosalie's + marriage, she had rather liked to hear people talk of the picturesqueness + of places like Stornham Court, and of the life led by women of rank in + their houses in town and country. Such talk nearly always involved the + description of things and people, whose colour and tone had only reached + her through the medium of books, most frequently fiction. + </p> + <p> + She was, however, of an unusually observing mind, even as a child, and the + time came when she realised that the national bird spread its wings less + proudly when the subject of international matches was touched upon, and + even at such times showed signs of restlessness. Now and then things had + not turned out as they appeared to promise; two or three seemingly + brilliant unions had resulted in disaster. She had not understood all the + details the newspapers cheerfully provided, but it was clear to her that + more than one previously envied young woman had had practical reasons for + discovering that she had made an astonishingly bad bargain. This being the + case, she used frequently to ponder over the case of Rosy—Rosy! who + had been swept away from them and swallowed up, as it seemed, by that + other and older world. She was in certain ways a silent child, and no one + but herself knew how little she had forgotten Rosy, how often she pondered + over her, how sometimes she had lain awake in the night and puzzled out + lines of argument concerning her and things which might be true. + </p> + <p> + The one grief of poor Mrs. Vanderpoel's life had been the apparent + estrangement of her eldest child. After her first six months in England + Lady Anstruthers' letters had become fewer and farther between, and had + given so little information connected with herself that affectionate + curiosity became discouraged. Sir Nigel's brief and rare epistles revealed + so little desire for any relationship with his wife's family that + gradually Rosy's image seemed to fade into far distance and become fainter + with the passing of each month. It seemed almost an incredible thing, when + they allowed themselves to think of it, but no member of the family had + ever been to Stornham Court. Two or three efforts to arrange a visit had + been made, but on each occasion had failed through some apparently + accidental cause. Once Lady Anstruthers had been away, once a letter had + seemingly failed to reach her, once her children had had scarlet fever and + the orders of the physicians in attendance had been stringent in regard to + visitors, even relatives who did not fear contagion. + </p> + <p> + “If she had been living in New York and her children had been ill I + should have been with her all the time,” poor Mrs. Vanderpoel had + said with tears. “Rosy's changed awfully, somehow. Her letters don't + sound a bit like she used to be. It seems as if she just doesn't care to + see her mother and father.” + </p> + <p> + Betty had frowned a good deal and thought intensely in secret. She did not + believe that Rosy was ashamed of her relations. She remembered, however, + it is true, that Clara Newell (who had been a schoolmate) had become very + super-fine and indifferent to her family after her marriage to an + aristocratic and learned German. Hers had been one of the successful + alliances, and after living a few years in Berlin she had quite looked + down upon New Yorkers, and had made herself exceedingly unpopular during + her one brief visit to her relatives. She seemed to think her father and + mother undignified and uncultivated, and she disapproved entirely of her + sisters dress and bearing. She said that they had no distinction of manner + and that all their interests were frivolous and unenlightened. + </p> + <p> + “But Clara always was a conceited girl,” thought Betty. + “She was always patronising people, and Rosy was only pretty and + sweet. She always said herself that she had no brains. But she had a + heart.” + </p> + <p> + After the lapse of a few years there had been no further discussion of + plans for visiting Stornham. Rosalie had become so remote as to appear + almost unreachable. She had been presented at Court, she had had three + children, the Dowager Lady Anstruthers had died. Once she had written to + her father to ask for a large sum of money, which he had sent to her, + because she seemed to want it very much. She required it to pay off + certain debts on the estate and spoke touchingly of her boy who would + inherit. + </p> + <p> + “He is a delicate boy, father,” she wrote, “and I don't + want the estate to come to him burdened.” + </p> + <p> + When she received the money she wrote gratefully of the generosity shown + her, but she spoke very vaguely of the prospect of their seeing each other + in the future. It was as if she felt her own remoteness even more than + they felt it themselves. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime Bettina had been taken to France and placed at school + there. The resulting experience was an enlightening one, far more + illuminating to the quick-witted American child than it would have been to + an English, French, or German one, who would not have had so much to + learn, and probably would not have been so quick at the learning. + </p> + <p> + Betty Vanderpoel knew nothing which was not American, and only vaguely a + few things which were not of New York. She had lived in Fifth Avenue, + attended school in a numbered street near her own home, played in and been + driven round Central Park. She had spent the hot months of the summer in + places up the Hudson, or on Long Island, and such resorts of pleasure. She + had believed implicitly in all she saw and knew. She had been surrounded + by wealth and decent good nature throughout her existence, and had enjoyed + her life far too much to admit of any doubt that America was the most + perfect country in the world, Americans the cleverest and most amusing + people, and that other nations were a little out of it, and consequently + sufficiently scant of resource to render pity without condemnation a + natural sentiment in connection with one's occasional thoughts of them. + </p> + <p> + But hers was a mentality by no means ordinary. Inheritance in her nature + had combined with circumstances, as it has a habit of doing in all human + beings. But in her case the combinations were unusual and produced a + result somewhat remarkable. The quality of brains which, in the first + Reuben Vanderpoel had expressed itself in the marvellously successful + planning and carrying to their ends of commercial and financial schemes, + the absolute genius of penetration and calculation of the sordid and + uneducated little trader in skins and barterer of goods, having filtered + through two generations of gradual education and refinement of existence, + which was no longer that of the mere trader, had been transformed in the + great-granddaughter into keen, clear sight, level-headed perceptiveness + and a logical sense of values. As the first Reuben had known by instinct + the values of pelts and lands, Bettina knew by instinct the values of + qualities, of brains, of hearts, of circumstances, and the incidents which + affect them. She was as unaware of the significance of her great + possession as were those around her. Nevertheless it was an unerring + thing. As a mere child, unformed and uneducated by life, she had not been + one of the small creatures to be deceived or flattered. + </p> + <p> + “She's an awfully smart little thing, that Betty,” her New + York aunts and cousins often remarked. “She seems to see what people + mean, it doesn't matter what they say. She likes people you would not + expect her to like, and then again she sometimes doesn't care the least + for people who are thought awfully attractive.” + </p> + <p> + As has been already intimated, the child was crude enough and not + particularly well bred, but her small brain had always been at work, and + each day of her life recorded for her valuable impressions. The page of + her young mind had ceased to be a blank much earlier than is usual. + </p> + <p> + The comparing of these impressions with such as she received when her life + in the French school was new afforded her active mental exercise. + </p> + <p> + She began with natural, secret indignation and rebellion. There was no + other American pupil in the establishment besides herself. But for the + fact that the name of Vanderpoel represented wealth so enormous as to + amount to a sort of rank in itself, Bettina would not have been received. + The proprietress of the institution had gravely disquieting doubts of the + propriety of America. Her pupils were not accustomed to freedom of + opinions and customs. An American child might either consciously or + unconsciously introduce them. As this must be guarded against, Betty's + first few months at the school were not agreeable to her. She was + supervised and expurgated, as it were. Special Sisters were told off to + converse and walk with her, and she soon perceived that conversations were + not only French lessons in disguise, but were lectures on ethics, morals, + and good manners, imperfectly concealed by the mask and domino of amiable + entertainment. She translated into English after the following manner the + facts her swift young perceptions gathered. There were things it was so + inelegant to say that only the most impossible persons said them; there + were things it was so inexcusable to do that when done their + inexcusability assumed the proportions of a crime. There were movements, + expressions, points of view, which one must avoid as one would avoid the + plague. And they were all things, acts, expressions, attitudes of mind + which Bettina had been familiar with from her infancy, and which she was + well aware were considered almost entirely harmless and unobjectionable in + New York, in her beloved New York, which was the centre of the world, + which was bigger, richer, gayer, more admirable than any other city known + upon the earth. + </p> + <p> + If she had not so loved it, if she had ever dreamed of the existence of + any other place as being absolutely necessary, she would not have felt the + thing so bitterly. But it seemed to her that all these amiable diatribes + in exquisite French were directed at her New York, and it must be admitted + that she was humiliated and enraged. It was a personal, indeed, a family + matter. Her father, her mother, her relatives, and friends were all in + some degree exactly the kind of persons whose speech, habits, and opinions + she must conscientiously avoid. But for the instinct of summing up values, + circumstances, and intentions, it is probable that she would have lost her + head, let loose her temper and her tongue, and have become insubordinate. + But the quickness of perception which had revealed practical + potentialities to old Reuben Vanderpoel, revealed to her the value of + French which was perfectly fluent, a voice which was musical, movements + which were grace, manners which had a still beauty, and comparing these + things with others less charming she listened and restrained herself, + learning, marking, and inwardly digesting with a cleverness most enviable. + </p> + <p> + Among her fellow pensionnaires she met with discomforting illuminations, + which were fine discipline also, though if she herself had been a less + intellectual creature they might have been embittering. Without doubt + Betty, even at twelve years, was intellectual. Hers was the practical + working intellect which begins duty at birth and does not lay down its + tools because the sun sets. The little and big girls who wrote their + exercises at her side did not deliberately enlighten her, but she learned + from them in vague ways that it was not New York which was the centre of + the earth, but Paris, or Berlin, Madrid, London, or Rome. Paris and London + were perhaps more calmly positive of themselves than other capitals, and + were a little inclined to smile at the lack of seriousness in other + claims. But one strange fact was more predominant than any other, and this + was that New York was not counted as a civilised centre at all; it had no + particular existence. Nobody expressed this rudely; in fact, it did not + acquire the form of actual statement at any time. It was merely revealed + by amiable and ingenuous unconsciousness of the circumstance that such a + part of the world expected to be regarded or referred to at all. Betty + began early to realise that as her companions did not talk of Timbuctoo or + Zanzibar, so they did not talk of New York. Stockholm or Amsterdam seemed, + despite their smallness, to be considered. No one denied the presence of + Zanzibar on the map, but as it conveyed nothing more than the impression + of being a mere geographical fact, there was no reason why one should + dwell on it in conversation. Remembering all she had left behind, the + crowded streets, the brilliant shop windows, the buzz of individual + people, there were moments when Betty ground her strong little teeth. She + wanted to express all these things, to call out, to explain, and command + recognition for them. But her cleverness showed to her that argument or + protestation would be useless. She could not make such hearers understand. + There were girls whose interest in America was founded on their impression + that magnificent Indian chieftains in blankets and feathers stalked about + the streets of the towns, and that Betty's own thick black hair had been + handed down to her by some beautiful Minnehaha or Pocahontas. When first + she was approached by timid, tentative questionings revealing this point + of view, Betty felt hot and answered with unamiable curtness. No, there + were no red Indians in New York. There had been no red Indians in her + family. She had neither grandmothers nor aunts who were squaws, if they + meant that. + </p> + <p> + She felt so scornfully, so disgustedly indignant at their benighted + ignorance, that she knew she behaved very well in saying so little in + reply. She could have said so much, but whatsoever she had said would have + conveyed nothing to them, so she thought it all out alone. She went over + the whole ground and little realised how much she was teaching herself as + she turned and tossed in her narrow, spotlessly white bed at night, + arguing, comparing, drawing deductions from what she knew and did not know + of the two continents. Her childish anger, combining itself with the + practical, alert brain of Reuben Vanderpoel the first, developed in her a + logical reasoning power which led her to arrive at many an excellent and + curiously mature conclusion. The result was finely educational. All the + more so that in her fevered desire for justification of the things she + loved, she began to read books such as little girls do not usually take + interest in. She found some difficulty in obtaining them at first, but a + letter or two written to her father obtained for her permission to read + what she chose. The third Reuben Vanderpoel was deeply fond of his younger + daughter, and felt in secret a profound admiration for her, which was + saved from becoming too obvious by the ever present American sense of + humour. + </p> + <p> + “Betty seems to be going in for politics,” he said after + reading the letter containing her request and her first list of books. + “She's about as mad as she can be at the ignorance of the French + girls about America and Americans. She wants to fill up on solid facts, so + that she can come out strong in argument. She's got an understanding of + the power of solid facts that would be a fortune to her if she were a man.” + </p> + <p> + It was no doubt her understanding of the power of facts which led her to + learn everything well and to develop in many directions. She began to dip + into political and historical volumes because she was furious, and wished + to be able to refute idiocy, but she found herself continuing to read + because she was interested in a way she had not expected. She began to see + things. Once she made a remark which was prophetic. She made it in answer + to a guileless observation concerning the gold mines with which Boston was + supposed to be enriched. + </p> + <p> + “You don't know anything about America, you others,” she said. + “But you WILL know!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it will become the fashion to travel in America?” + asked a German girl. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” said Betty. “But—it isn't so much that + you will go to America. I believe it will come to you. It's like that—America. + It doesn't stand still. It goes and gets what it wants.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed as she ended, and so did the other girls. But in ten years' + time, when they were young women, some of them married, some of them court + beauties, one of them recalled this speech to another, whom she + encountered in an important house in St. Petersburg, the wife of the + celebrated diplomat who was its owner being an American woman. + </p> + <p> + Bettina Vanderpoel's education was a rather fine thing. She herself had + more to do with it than girls usually have to do with their own training. + In a few months' time those in authority in the French school found that + it was not necessary to supervise and expurgate her. She learned with an + interested rapacity which was at once unusual and amazing. And she + evidently did not learn from books alone. Her voice, as an organ, had been + musical and full from babyhood. It began to modulate itself and to express + things most voices are incapable of expressing. She had been so built by + nature that the carriage of her head and limbs was good to behold. She + acquired a harmony of movement which caused her to lose no shade of grace + and spirit. Her eyes were full of thought, of speculation, and intentness. + </p> + <p> + “She thinks a great deal for one so young,” was said of her + frequently by one or the other of her teachers. One finally went further + and added, “She has genius.” + </p> + <p> + This was true. She had genius, but it was not specialised. It was not + genius which expressed itself through any one art. It was a genius for + life, for living herself, for aiding others to live, for vivifying mere + existence. She herself was, however, aware only of an eagerness of + temperament, a passion for seeing, doing, and gaining knowledge. + Everything interested her, everybody was suggestive and more or less + enlightening. + </p> + <p> + Her relatives thought her original in her fancies. They called them + fancies because she was so young. Fortunately for her, there was no reason + why she should not be gratified. Most girls preferred to spend their + holidays on the Continent. She elected to return to America every + alternate year. She enjoyed the voyage and she liked the entire change of + atmosphere and people. + </p> + <p> + “It makes me like both places more,” she said to her father + when she was thirteen. “It makes me see things.” + </p> + <p> + Her father discovered that she saw everything. She was the pleasure of his + life. He was attracted greatly by the interest she exhibited in all orders + of things. He saw her make bold, ingenuous plunges into all waters, + without any apparent consciousness that the scraps of knowledge she + brought to the surface were unusual possessions for a schoolgirl. She had + young views on the politics and commerce of different countries, as she + had views on their literature. When Reuben Vanderpoel swooped across the + American continent on journeys of thousands of miles, taking her as a + companion, he discovered that he actually placed a sort of confidence in + her summing up of men and schemes. He took her to see mines and railroads + and those who worked them, and he talked them over with her afterward, + half with a sense of humour, half with a sense of finding comfort in her + intelligent comprehension of all he said. + </p> + <p> + She enjoyed herself immensely and gained a strong picturesqueness of + character. After an American holiday she used to return to France, + Germany, or Italy, with a renewed zest of feeling for all things romantic + and antique. After a few years in the French convent she asked that she + might be sent to Germany. + </p> + <p> + “I am gradually changing into a French girl,” she wrote to her + father. “One morning I found I was thinking it would be nice to go + into a convent, and another day I almost entirely agreed with one of the + girls who was declaiming against her brother who had fallen in love with a + Californian. You had better take me away and send me to Germany.” + </p> + <p> + Reuben Vanderpoel laughed. He understood Betty much better than most of + her relations did. He knew when seriousness underlay her jests and his + respect for her seriousness was great. He sent her to school in Germany. + During the early years of her schooldays Betty had observed that America + appeared upon the whole to be regarded by her schoolfellows principally as + a place to which the more unfortunate among the peasantry emigrated as + steerage passengers when things could become no worse for them in their + own country. The United States was not mentally detached from any other + portion of the huge Western Continent. Quite well-educated persons spoke + casually of individuals having “gone to America,” as if there + were no particular difference between Brazil and Massachusetts. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if you ever saw my cousin Gaston,” a French girl + once asked her as they sat at their desks. “He became very poor + through ill living. He was quite without money and he went to America.” + </p> + <p> + “To New York?” inquired Bettina. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure. The town is called Concepcion.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not in the United States,” Betty answered + disdainfully. “It is in Chili.” + </p> + <p> + She dragged her atlas towards her and found the place. + </p> + <p> + “See,” she said. “It is thousands of miles from New + York.” Her companion was a near-sighted, rather slow girl. She + peered at the map, drawing a line with her finger from New York to + Concepcion. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are at a great distance from one another,” she + admitted, “but they are both in America.” + </p> + <p> + “But not both in the United States,” cried Betty. “French + girls always seem to think that North and South America are the same, that + they are both the United States.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the slow girl with deliberation. “We do make + odd mistakes sometimes.” To which she added with entire innocence of + any ironic intention. “But you Americans, you seem to feel the + United States, your New York, to be all America.” + </p> + <p> + Betty started a little and flushed. During a few minutes of rapid + reflection she sat bolt upright at her desk and looked straight before + her. Her mentality was of the order which is capable of making discoveries + concerning itself as well as concerning others. She had never thought of + this view of the matter before, but it was quite true. To passionate young + patriots such as herself at least, that portion of the map covered by the + United States was America. She suddenly saw also that to her New York had + been America. Fifth Avenue Broadway, Central Park, even Tiffany's had been + “America.” She laughed and reddened a shade as she put the + atlas aside having recorded a new idea. She had found out that it was not + only Europeans who were local, which was a discovery of some importance to + her fervid youth. + </p> + <p> + Because she thought so often of Rosalie, her attention was, during the + passing years, naturally attracted by the many things she heard of such + marriages as were made by Americans with men of other countries than their + own. She discovered that notwithstanding certain commercial views of + matrimony, all foreigners who united themselves with American heiresses + were not the entire brutes primitive prejudice might lead one to imagine. + There were rather one-sided alliances which proved themselves far from + happy. The Cousin Gaston, for instance, brought home a bride whose fortune + rebuilt and refurnished his dilapidated chateau and who ended by making of + him a well-behaved and cheery country gentleman not at all to be despised + in his amiable, if light-minded good nature and good spirits. His wife, + fortunately, was not a young woman who yearned for sentiment. She was a + nice-tempered, practical American girl, who adored French country life and + knew how to amuse and manage her husband. It was a genial sort of menage + and yet though this was an undeniable fact, Bettina observed that when the + union was spoken of it was always referred to with a certain tone which + conveyed that though one did not exactly complain of its having been + undesirable, it was not quite what Gaston might have expected. His wife + had money and was good-natured, but there were limitations to one's + appreciation of a marriage in which husband and wife were not on the same + plane. + </p> + <p> + “She is an excellent person, and it has been good for Gaston,” + said Bettina's friend. “We like her, but she is not—she is not——” + She paused there, evidently seeing that the remark was unlucky. Bettina, + who was still in short frocks, took her up. + </p> + <p> + “What is she not?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!—it is difficult to explain—to Americans. It is + really not exactly a fault. But she is not of his world.” + </p> + <p> + “But if he does not like that,” said Bettina coolly, “why + did he let her buy him and pay for him?” + </p> + <p> + It was young and brutal, but there were times when the business + perspicuity of the first Reuben Vanderpoel, combining with the fiery, + wounded spirit of his young descendant, rendered Bettina brutal. She saw + certain unadorned facts with unsparing young eyes and wanted to state + them. After her frocks were lengthened, she learned how to state them with + more fineness of phrase, but even then she was sometimes still rather + unsparing. + </p> + <p> + In this case her companion, who was not fiery of temperament, only + coloured slightly. + </p> + <p> + “It was not quite that,” she answered. “Gaston really is + fond of her. She amuses him, and he says she is far cleverer than he is.” + </p> + <p> + But there were unions less satisfactory, and Bettina had opportunities to + reflect upon these also. The English and Continental papers did not give + enthusiastic, detailed descriptions of the marriages New York journals + dwelt upon with such delight. They were passed over with a paragraph. When + Betty heard them spoken of in France, Germany or Italy, she observed that + they were not, as a rule, spoken of respectfully. It seemed to her that + the bridegrooms were, in conversation, treated by their equals with scant + respect. It appeared that there had always been some extremely practical + reason for the passion which had led them to the altar. One generally + gathered that they or their estates were very much out at elbow, and + frequently their characters were not considered admirable by their + relatives and acquaintances. Some had been rather cold shouldered in + certain capitals on account of embarrassing little, or big, stories. Some + had spent their patrimonies in riotous living. Those who had merely begun + by coming into impoverished estates, and had later attenuated their + resources by comparatively decent follies, were of the more desirable + order. By the time she was nineteen, Bettina had felt the blood surge in + her veins more than once when she heard some comments on alliances over + which she had seen her compatriots glow with affectionate delight. + </p> + <p> + “It was time Ludlow married some girl with money,” she heard + said of one such union. “He had been playing the fool ever since he + came into the estate. Horses and a lot of stupid women. He had come some + awful croppers during the last ten years. Good-enough looking girl, they + tell me—the American he has married—tremendous lot of money. + Couldn't have picked it up on this side. English young women of fortune + are not looking for that kind of thing. Poor old Billy wasn't good enough.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina told the story to her father when they next met. She had grown + into a tall young creature by this time. Her low, full voice was like a + bell and was capable of ringing forth some fine, mellow tones of irony. + </p> + <p> + “And in America we are pleased,” she said, “and flatter + ourselves that we are receiving the proper tribute of adoration of our + American wit and beauty. We plume ourselves on our conquests.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Betty,” said her father, and his reflective deliberation + had meaning. “There are a lot of us who don't plume ourselves + particularly in these days. We are not as innocent as we were when this + sort of thing began. We are not as innocent as we were when Rosy was + married.” And he sighed and rubbed his forehead with the handle of + his pen. “Not as innocent as we were when Rosy was married,” + he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Bettina went to him and slid her fine young arm round his neck. It was a + long, slim, round arm with a wonderful power to caress in its curves. She + kissed Vanderpoel's lined cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Have you had time to think much about Rosy?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I've not had time, but I've done it,” he answered. “Anything + that hurts your mother hurts me. Sometimes she begins to cry in her sleep, + and when I wake her she tells me she has been dreaming that she has seen + Rosy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have had time to think of her,” said Bettina. “I have + heard so much of these things. I was at school in Germany when Annie + Butterfield and Baron von Steindahl were married. I heard it talked about + there, and then my mother sent me some American papers.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a little, and for a moment her laugh did not sound like a + girl's. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's turned out badly enough,” her father commented. + “The papers had plenty to say about it later. There wasn't much he + was too good to do to his wife, apparently.” + </p> + <p> + “There was nothing too bad for him to do before he had a wife,” + said Bettina. “He was black. It was an insolence that he should have + dared to speak to Annie Butterfield. Somebody ought to have beaten him.” + </p> + <p> + “He beat her instead.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I think his family thought it quite natural. They said + that she was so vulgar and American that she exasperated Frederick beyond + endurance. She was not geboren, that was it.” She laughed her severe + little laugh again. “Perhaps we shall get tired in time,” she + added. “I think we are learning. If it is made a matter of business + quite open and aboveboard, it will be fair. You know, father, you always + said that I was businesslike.” + </p> + <p> + There was interested curiosity in Vanderpoel's steady look at her. There + were times when he felt that Betty's summing up of things was well worth + listening to. He saw that now she was in one of her moods when it would + pay one to hear her out. She held her chin up a little, and her face took + on a fine stillness at once sweet and unrelenting. She was very good to + look at in such moments. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, “you have a particularly level head + for a girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she went on. “What I see is that these things + are not business, and they ought to be. If a man comes to a rich American + girl and says, 'I and my title are for sale. Will you buy us?' If the girl + is—is that kind of a girl and wants that kind of man, she can look + them both over and say, 'Yes, I will buy you,' and it can be arranged. He + will not return the money if he is unsatisfactory, but she cannot complain + that she has been deceived. She can only complain of that when he pretends + that he asks her to marry him because he wants her for his wife, because + he would want her for his wife if she were as poor as himself. Let it be + understood that he is property for sale, let her make sure that he is the + kind of property she wants to buy. Then, if, when they are married, he is + brutal or impudent, or his people are brutal or impudent, she can say, 'I + will forfeit the purchase money, but I will not forfeit myself. I will not + stay with you.'” + </p> + <p> + “They would not like to hear you say that, Betty,” said her + father, rubbing his chin reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered. “Neither the girl nor the man would + like it, and it is their business, not mine. But it is practical and would + prevent silly mistakes. It would prevent the girls being laughed at. It is + when they are flattered by the choice made of them that they are laughed + at. No one can sneer at a man or woman for buying what they think they + want, and throwing it aside if it turns out a bad bargain.” + </p> + <p> + She had seated herself near her father. She rested her elbow slightly on + the table and her chin in the hollow of her hand. She was a beautiful + young creature. She had a soft curving mouth, and a soft curving cheek + which was warm rose. Taken in conjunction with those young charms, her + next words had an air of incongruity. + </p> + <p> + “You think I am hard,” she said. “When I think of these + things I am hard—as hard as nails. That is an Americanism, but it is + a good expression. I am angry for America. If we are sordid and + undignified, let us get what we pay for and make the others acknowledge + that we have paid.” + </p> + <p> + She did not smile, nor did her father. Mr. Vanderpoel, on the contrary, + sighed. He had a dreary suspicion that Rosy, at least, had not received + what she had paid for, and he knew she had not been in the least aware + that she had paid or that she was expected to do so. Several times during + the last few years he had thought that if he had not been so hard worked, + if he had had time, he would have seriously investigated the case of Rosy. + But who is not aware that the profession of multimillionaire does not + allow of any swerving from duty or of any interests requiring leisure? + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, Betty,” he said quite deliberately, “if you + know how handsome you are?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Bettina. “I think so. And I am tall. It + is the fashion to be tall now. It was Early Victorian to be little. The + Queen brought in the 'dear little woman,' and now the type has gone out.” + </p> + <p> + “They will come to look at you pretty soon,” said Vanderpoel. + “What shall you say then?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” said Bettina, and her voice sounded particularly low and + mellow. “I have a little monomania, father. Some people have a + monomania for one thing and some for another. Mine is for NOT taking a + bargain from the ducal remnant counter.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + AN UNFAIR ENDOWMENT + </h3> + <p> + To Bettina Vanderpoel had been given, to an extraordinary extent, the + extraordinary thing which is called beauty—which is a thing entirely + set apart from mere good looks or prettiness. This thing is extraordinary + because, if statistics were taken, the result would probably be the + discovery that not three human beings in a million really possess it. That + it should be bestowed at all—since it is so rare—seems as + unfair a thing as appears to the mere mortal mind the bestowal of + unbounded wealth, since it quite as inevitably places the life of its + owner upon an abnormal plane. There are millions of pretty women, and + billions of personable men, but the man or woman of entire physical beauty + may cross one's pathway only once in a lifetime—or not at all. In + the latter case it is natural to doubt the absolute truth of the rumours + that the thing exists. The abnormal creature seems a mere freak of nature + and may chance to be angel, criminal, total insipidity, virago or + enchanter, but let such an one enter a room or appear in the street, and + heads must turn, eyes light and follow, souls yearn or envy, or sink under + the discouragement of comparison. With the complete harmony and perfect + balance of the singular thing, it would be folly for the rest of the world + to compete. A human being who had lived in poverty for half a lifetime, + might, if suddenly endowed with limitless fortune, retain, to a certain + extent, balance of mind; but the same creature having lived the same + number of years a wholly unlovely thing, suddenly awakening to the + possession of entire physical beauty, might find the strain upon pure + sanity greater and the balance less easy to preserve. The relief from the + conscious or unconscious tension bred by the sense of imperfection, the + calm surety of the fearlessness of meeting in any eye a look not lighted + by pleasure, would be less normal than the knowledge that no wish need + remain unfulfilled, no fancy ungratified. Even at sixteen Betty was a + long-limbed young nymph whose small head, set high on a fine slim column + of throat, might well have been crowned with the garland of some goddess + of health and the joy of life. She was light and swift, and being a + creature of long lines and tender curves, there was pleasure in the mere + seeing her move. The cut of her spirited lip, and delicate nostril, made + for a profile at which one turned to look more than once, despite one's + self. Her hair was soft and black and repeated its colour in the + extravagant lashes of her childhood, which made mysterious the changeful + dense blue of her eyes. They were eyes with laughter in them and pride, + and a suggestion of many deep things yet unstirred. She was rather + unusually tall, and her body had the suppleness of a young bamboo. The + deep corners of her red mouth curled generously, and the chin, melting + into the fine line of the lovely throat, was at once strong and soft and + lovely. She was a creature of harmony, warm richness of colour, and + brilliantly alluring life. + </p> + <p> + When her school days were over she returned to New York and gave herself + into her mother's hands. Her mother's kindness of heart and sweet-tempered + lovingness were touching things to Bettina. In the midst of her millions + Mrs. Vanderpoel was wholly unworldly. Bettina knew that she felt a + perpetual homesickness when she allowed herself to think of the daughter + who seemed lost to her, and the girl's realisation of this caused her to + wish to be especially affectionate and amenable. She was glad that she was + tall and beautiful, not merely because such physical gifts added to the + colour and agreeableness of life, but because hers gave comfort and + happiness to her mother. To Mrs. Vanderpoel, to introduce to the world the + loveliest debutante of many years was to be launched into a new future. To + concern one's self about her exquisite wardrobe was to have an enlivening + occupation. To see her surrounded, to watch eyes as they followed her, to + hear her praised, was to feel something of the happiness she had known in + those younger days when New York had been less advanced in its news and + methods, and slim little blonde Rosalie had come out in white tulle and + waltzed like a fairy with a hundred partners. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what Rosy looks like now,” the poor woman said + involuntarily one day. Bettina was not a fairy. When her mother uttered + her exclamation Bettina was on the point of going out, and as she stood + near her, wrapped in splendid furs, she had the air of a Russian princess. + </p> + <p> + “She could not have worn the things you do, Betty,” said the + affectionate maternal creature. “She was such a little, slight + thing. But she was very pretty. I wonder if twelve years have changed her + much?” + </p> + <p> + Betty turned towards her rather suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” she said, “sometime, before very long, I am + going to see.” + </p> + <p> + “To see!” exclaimed Mrs. Vanderpoel. “To see Rosy!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Betty answered. “I have a plan. I have never told + you of it, but I have been thinking over it ever since I was fifteen years + old.” + </p> + <p> + She went to her mother and kissed her. She wore a becoming but resolute + expression. + </p> + <p> + “We will not talk about it now,” she said. “There are + some things I must find out.” + </p> + <p> + When she had left the room, which she did almost immediately, Mrs. + Vanderpoel sat down and cried. She nearly always shed a few tears when + anyone touched upon the subject of Rosy. On her desk were some + photographs. One was of Rosy as a little girl with long hair, one was of + Lady Anstruthers in her wedding dress, and one was of Sir Nigel. + </p> + <p> + “I never felt as if I quite liked him,” she said, looking at + this last, “but I suppose she does, or she would not be so happy + that she could forget her mother and sister.” + </p> + <p> + There was another picture she looked at. Rosalie had sent it with the + letter she wrote to her father after he had forwarded the money she asked + for. It was a little study in water colours of the head of her boy. It was + nothing but a head, the shoulders being fancifully draped, but the face + was a peculiar one. It was over-mature, and unlovely, but for a mouth at + once pathetic and sweet. + </p> + <p> + “He is not a pretty child,” sighed Mrs. Vanderpoel. “I + should have thought Rosy would have had pretty babies. Ughtred is more + like his father than his mother.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke to her husband later, of what Betty had said. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think she has in her mind, Reuben?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “What Betty has in her mind is usually good sense,” was his + response. “She will begin to talk to me about it presently. I shall + not ask questions yet. She is probably thinking things over.” + </p> + <p> + She was, in truth, thinking things over, as she had been doing for some + time. She had asked questions on several occasions of English people she + had met abroad. But a schoolgirl cannot ask many questions, and though she + had once met someone who knew Sir Nigel Anstruthers, it was a person who + did not know him well, for the reason that she had not desired to increase + her slight acquaintance. This lady was the aunt of one of Bettina's fellow + pupils, and she was not aware of the girl's relationship to Sir Nigel. + What Betty gathered was that her brother-in-law was regarded as a + decidedly bad lot, that since his marriage to some American girl he had + seemed to have money which he spent in riotous living, and that the wife, + who was said to be a silly creature, was kept in the country, either + because her husband did not want her in London, or because she preferred + to stay at Stornham. About the wife no one appeared to know anything, in + fact. + </p> + <p> + “She is rather a fool, I believe, and Sir Nigel Anstruthers is the + kind of man a simpleton would be obliged to submit to,” Bettina had + heard the lady say. + </p> + <p> + Her own reflections upon these comments had led her through various paths + of thought. She could recall Rosalie's girlhood, and what she herself, as + an unconsciously observing child, had known of her character. She + remembered the simple impressionability of her mind. She had been the most + amenable little creature in the world. Her yielding amiability could + always be counted upon as a factor by the calculating; sweet-tempered to + weakness, she could be beguiled or distressed into any course the desires + of others dictated. An ill-tempered or self-pitying person could alter any + line of conduct she herself wished to pursue. + </p> + <p> + “She was neither clever nor strong-minded,” Betty said to + herself. “A man like Sir Nigel Anstruthers could make what he chose + of her. I wonder what he has done to her?” + </p> + <p> + Of one thing she thought she was sure. This was that Rosalie's aloofness + from her family was the result of his design. + </p> + <p> + She comprehended, in her maturer years, the dislike of her childhood. She + remembered a certain look in his face which she had detested. She had not + known then that it was the look of a rather clever brute, who was + malignant, but she knew now. + </p> + <p> + “He used to hate us all,” she said to herself. “He did + not mean to know us when he had taken Rosalie away, and he did not intend + that she should know us.” + </p> + <p> + She had heard rumours of cases somewhat parallel, cases in which girls' + lives had become swamped in those of their husbands, and their husbands' + families. And she had also heard unpleasant details of the means employed + to reach the desired results. Annie Butterfield's husband had forbidden + her to correspond with her American relatives. He had argued that such + correspondence was disturbing to her mind, and to the domestic duties + which should be every decent woman's religion. One of the occasions of his + beating her had been in consequence of his finding her writing to her + mother a letter blotted with tears. Husbands frequently objected to their + wives' relatives, but there was a special order of European husband who + opposed violently any intimacy with American relations on the practical + ground that their views of a wife's position, with regard to her husband, + were of a revolutionary nature. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderpoel had in her possession every letter Rosalie or her husband + had ever written. Bettina asked to be allowed to read them, and one + morning seated herself in her own room before a blazing fire, with the + collection on a table at her side. She read them in order. Nigel's began + as they went on. They were all in one tone, formal, uninteresting, and + requiring no answers. There was not a suggestion of human feeling in one + of them. + </p> + <p> + “He wrote them,” said Betty, “so that we could not say + that he had never written.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie's first epistles were affectionate, but timid. At the outset she + was evidently trying to conceal the fact that she was homesick. Gradually + she became briefer and more constrained. In one she said pathetically, + “I am such a bad letter writer. I always feel as if I want to tear + up what I have written, because I never say half that is in my heart.” + Mrs. Vanderpoel had kissed that letter many a time. She was sure that a + mark on the paper near this particular sentence was where a tear had + fallen. Bettina was sure of this, too, and sat and looked at the fire for + some time. + </p> + <p> + That night she went to a ball, and when she returned home, she persuaded + her mother to go to bed. + </p> + <p> + “I want to have a talk with father,” she exclaimed. “I + am going to ask him something.” + </p> + <p> + She went to the great man's private room, where he sat at work, even after + the hours when less seriously engaged people come home from balls. The + room he sat in was one of the apartments newspapers had with much detail + described. It was luxuriously comfortable, and its effect was sober and + rich and fine. + </p> + <p> + When Bettina came in, Vanderpoel, looking up to smile at her in welcome, + was struck by the fact that as a background to an entering figure of tall, + splendid girlhood in a ball dress it was admirable, throwing up all its + whiteness and grace and sweep of line. He was always glad to see Betty. + The rich strength of the life radiating from her, the reality and glow of + her were good for him and had the power of detaching him from work of + which he was tired. + </p> + <p> + She smiled back at him, and, coming forward took her place in a big + armchair close to him, her lace-frilled cloak slipping from her shoulders + with a soft rustling sound which seemed to convey her intention to stay. + </p> + <p> + “Are you too busy to be interrupted?” she asked, her mellow + voice caressing him. “I want to talk to you about something I am + going to do.” She put out her hand and laid it on his with a + clinging firmness which meant strong feeling. “At least, I am going + to do it if you will help me,” she ended. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Betty?” he inquired, his usual interest in her + accentuated by her manner. + </p> + <p> + She laid her other hand on his and he clasped both with his own. + </p> + <p> + “When the Worthingtons sail for England next month,” she + explained, “I want to go with them. Mrs. Worthington is very kind + and will be good enough to take care of me until I reach London.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderpoel moved slightly in his chair. Then their eyes met + comprehendingly. He saw what hers held. + </p> + <p> + “From there you are going to Stornham Court!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “To see Rosy,” she answered, leaning a little forward. “To + SEE her. + </p> + <p> + “You believe that what has happened has not been her fault?” + he said. There was a look in her face which warmed his blood. + </p> + <p> + “I have always been sure that Nigel Anstruthers arranged it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he has been unkind to her?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to see,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” he said, “tell me all about it.” + </p> + <p> + He knew that this was no suddenly-formed plan, and he knew it would be + well worth while to hear the details of its growth. It was so + interestingly like her to have remained silent through the process of + thinking a thing out, evolving her final idea without having disturbed him + by bringing to him any chaotic uncertainties. + </p> + <p> + “It's a sort of confession,” she answered. “Father, I + have been thinking about it for years. I said nothing because for so long + I knew I was only a child, and a child's judgment might be worth so + little. But through all those years I was learning things and gathering + evidence. When I was at school, first in one country and then another, I + used to tell myself that I was growing up and preparing myself to do a + particular thing—to go to rescue Rosy.” + </p> + <p> + “I used to guess you thought of her in a way of your own,” + Vanderpoel said, “but I did not guess you were thinking that much. + You were always a solid, loyal little thing, and there was business + capacity in your keeping your scheme to yourself. Let us look the matter + in the face. Suppose she does not need rescuing. Suppose, after all, she + is a comfortable, fine lady and adores her husband. What then?” + </p> + <p> + “If I should find that to be true, I will behave myself very well—as + if we had expected nothing else. I will make her a short visit and come + away. Lady Cecilia Orme, whom I knew in Florence, has asked me to stay + with her in London. I will go to her. She is a charming woman. But I must + first see Rosy—SEE her.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderpoel thought the matter over during a few moments of silence. + </p> + <p> + “You do not wish your mother to go with you?” he said + presently. + </p> + <p> + “I believe it will be better that she should not,” she + answered. “If there are difficulties or disappointments she would be + too unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said slowly, “and she could not control her + feelings. She would give the whole thing away, poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + He had been looking at the carpet reflectively, and now he looked at + Bettina. + </p> + <p> + “What are you expecting to find, at the worst?” he asked her. + “The kind of thing which will need management while it is being + looked into?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know what I am expecting to find,” was her reply. + “We know absolutely nothing; but that Rosy was fond of us, and that + her marriage has seemed to make her cease to care. She was not like that; + she was not like that! Was she, father?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she wasn't,” he exclaimed. The memory of her in her + short-frocked and early girlish days, a pretty, smiling, effusive thing, + given to lavish caresses and affectionate little surprises for them all, + came back to him vividly. “She was the most affectionate girl I ever + knew,” he said. “She was more affectionate than you, Betty,” + with a smile. + </p> + <p> + Bettina smiled in return and bent her head to put a kiss on his hand, a + warm, lovely, comprehending kiss. + </p> + <p> + “If she had been different I should not have thought so much of the + change,” she said. “I believe that people are always more or + less LIKE themselves as long as they live. What has seemed to happen has + been so unlike Rosy that there must be some reason for it.” + </p> + <p> + “You think that she has been prevented from seeing us?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it so possible that I am not going to announce my visit + beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “You have a good head, Betty,” her father said. + </p> + <p> + “If Sir Nigel has put obstacles in our way before, he will do it + again. I shall try to find out, when I reach London, if Rosalie is at + Stornham. When I am sure she is there, I shall go and present myself. If + Sir Nigel meets me at the park gates and orders his gamekeepers to drive + me off the premises, we shall at least know that he has some reason for + not wishing to regard the usual social and domestic amenities. I feel + rather like a detective. It entertains me and excites me a little.” + </p> + <p> + The deep blue of her eyes shone under the shadow of the extravagant lashes + as she laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Are you willing that I should go, father?” she said next. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered. “I am willing to trust you, Betty, + to do things I would not trust other girls to try at. If you were not my + girl at all, if you were a man on Wall Street, I should know you would be + pretty safe to come out a little more than even in any venture you made. + You know how to keep cool.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina picked up her fallen cloak and laid it over her arm. It was made + of billowy frills of Malines lace, such as only Vanderpoels could buy. She + looked down at the amazing thing and touched up the frills with her + fingers as she whimsically smiled. + </p> + <p> + “There are a good many girls who can be trusted to do things in + these days,” she said. “Women have found out so much. Perhaps + it is because the heroines of novels have informed them. Heroines and + heroes always bring in the new fashions in character. I believe it is + years since a heroine 'burst into a flood of tears.' It has been + discovered, really, that nothing is to be gained by it. Whatsoever I find + at Stornham Court, I shall neither weep nor be helpless. There is the + Atlantic cable, you know. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why heroines + have changed. When they could not escape from their persecutors except in + a stage coach, and could not send telegrams, they were more or less in + everyone's hands. It is different now. Thank you, father, you are very + good to believe in me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + ON BOARD THE “MERIDIANA” + </h3> + <p> + A large transatlantic steamer lying at the wharf on a brilliant, sunny + morning just before its departure is an interesting and suggestive object + to those who are fond of following suggestion to its end. One sometimes + wonders if it is possible that the excitement in the dock atmosphere could + ever become a thing to which one was sufficiently accustomed to be able to + regard it as among things commonplace. The rumbling and rattling of + waggons and carts, the loading and unloading of boxes and bales, the + people who are late, and the people who are early, the faces which are + excited, and the faces which are sad, the trunks and bales, and cranes + which creak and groan, the shouts and cries, the hurry and confusion of + movement, notwithstanding that every day has seen them all for years, have + a sort of perennial interest to the looker-on. + </p> + <p> + This is, perhaps, more especially the case when the looker-on is to be a + passenger on the outgoing ship; and the exhilaration of his point of view + may greatly depend upon the reason for his voyage and the class by which + he travels. Gaiety and youth usually appear upon the promenade deck, + having taken saloon passage. Dulness, commerce, and eld mingling with + them, it is true, but with a discretion which does not seem to dominate. + Second-class passengers wear a more practical aspect, and youth among them + is rarer and more grave. People who must travel second and third class + make voyages for utilitarian reasons. Their object is usually to better + themselves in one way or another. When they are going from Liverpool to + New York, it is usually to enter upon new efforts and new labours. When + they are returning from New York to Liverpool, it is often because the new + life has proved less to be depended upon than the old, and they are + bearing back with them bitterness of soul and discouragement of spirit. + </p> + <p> + On the brilliant spring morning when the huge liner Meridiana was to sail + for England a young man, who was a second-class passenger, leaned upon the + ship's rail and watched the turmoil on the wharf with a detached and not + at all buoyant air. + </p> + <p> + His air was detached because he had other things in his mind than those + merely passing before him, and he was not buoyant because they were not + cheerful or encouraging subjects for reflection. He was a big young man, + well hung together, and carrying himself well; his face was square-jawed + and rugged, and he had dark red hair restrained by its close cut from + waving strongly on his forehead. His eyes were red brown, and a few dark + freckles marked his clear skin. He was of the order of man one looks at + twice, having looked at him once, though one does not in the least know + why, unless one finally reaches some degree of intimacy. + </p> + <p> + He watched the vehicles, heavy and light, roll into the big shed-like + building and deposit their freight; he heard the voices and caught the + sentences of instruction and comment; he saw boxes and bales hauled from + the dock side to the deck and swung below with the rattling of machinery + and chains. But these formed merely a noisy background to his mood, which + was self-centred and gloomy. He was one of those who go back to their + native land knowing themselves conquered. He had left England two years + before, feeling obstinately determined to accomplish a certain difficult + thing, but forces of nature combining with the circumstances of previous + education and living had beaten him. He had lost two years and all the + money he had ventured. He was going back to the place he had come from, + and he was carrying with him a sense of having been used hardly by + fortune, and in a way he had not deserved. + </p> + <p> + He had gone out to the West with the intention of working hard and using + his hands as well as his brains; he had not been squeamish; he had, in + fact, laboured like a ploughman; and to be obliged to give in had been + galling and bitter. There are human beings into whose consciousness of + themselves the possibility of being beaten does not enter. This man was + one of them. + </p> + <p> + The ship was of the huge and luxuriously-fitted class by which the rich + and fortunate are transported from one continent to another. Passengers + could indulge themselves in suites of rooms and live sumptuously. As the + man leaning on the rail looked on, he saw messengers bearing baskets and + boxes of fruit and flowers with cards and notes attached, hurrying up the + gangway to deliver them to waiting stewards. These were the farewell + offerings to be placed in staterooms, or to await their owners on the + saloon tables. Salter—the second-class passenger's name was Salter—had + seen a few such offerings before on the first crossing. But there had not + been such lavishness at Liverpool. It was the New Yorkers who were + sumptuous in such matters, as he had been told. He had also heard casually + that the passenger list on this voyage was to record important names, the + names of multi-millionaire people who were going over for the London + season. + </p> + <p> + Two stewards talking near him, earlier in the morning, had been exulting + over the probable largesse such a list would result in at the end of the + passage. + </p> + <p> + “The Worthingtons and the Hirams and the John William Spayters,” + said one. “They travel all right. They know what they want and they + want a good deal, and they're willing to pay for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They're not school teachers going over to improve their minds + and contriving to cross in a big ship by economising in everything else. + Miss Vanderpoel's sailing with the Worthingtons. She's got the best suite + all to herself. She'll bring back a duke or one of those prince fellows. + How many millions has Vanderpoel?” + </p> + <p> + “How many millions. How many hundred millions!” said his + companion, gloating cheerfully over the vastness of unknown possibilities. + “I've crossed with Miss Vanderpoel often, two or three times when + she was in short frocks. She's the kind of girl you read about. And she's + got money enough to buy in half a dozen princes.” + </p> + <p> + “There are New Yorkers who won't like it if she does,” + returned the other. “There's been too much money going out of the + country. Her suite is crammed full of Jack roses, now, and there are boxes + waiting outside.” + </p> + <p> + Salter moved away and heard no more. He moved away, in fact, because he + was conscious that to a man in his case, this dwelling upon millions, this + plethora of wealth, was a little revolting. He had walked down Broadway + and seen the price of Jacqueminot roses, and he was not soothed or allured + at this particular moment by the picture of a girl whose half-dozen cabins + were crowded with them. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the devil!” he said. “It sounds vulgar.” And + he walked up and down fast, squaring his shoulders, with his hands in the + pockets of his rough, well-worn coat. He had seen in England something of + the American young woman with millionaire relatives. He had been scarcely + more than a boy when the American flood first began to rise. He had been + old enough, however, to hear people talk. As he had grown older, Salter + had observed its advance. Englishmen had married American beauties. + American fortunes had built up English houses, which otherwise threatened + to fall into decay. Then the American faculty of adaptability came into + play. Anglo-American wives became sometimes more English than their + husbands. They proceeded to Anglicise their relations, their relations' + clothes, even, in time, their speech. They carried or sent English + conventions to the States, their brothers ordered their clothes from West + End tailors, their sisters began to wear walking dresses, to play + out-of-door games and take active exercise. Their mothers tentatively took + houses in London or Paris, there came a period when their fathers or + uncles, serious or anxious business men, the most unsporting of human + beings, rented castles or manors with huge moors and covers attached and + entertained large parties of shooters or fishers who could be lured to any + quarter by the promise of the particular form of slaughter for which they + burned. + </p> + <p> + “Sheer American business perspicacity, that,” said Salter, as + he marched up and down, thinking of a particular case of this order. + “There's something admirable in the practical way they make for what + they want. They want to amalgamate with English people, not for their own + sake, but because their women like it, and so they offer the men thousands + of acres full of things to kill. They can get them by paying for them, and + they know how to pay.” He laughed a little, lifting his square + shoulders. “Balthamor's six thousand acres of grouse moor and + Elsty's salmon fishing are rented by the Chicago man. He doesn't care + twopence for them, and does not know a pheasant from a caper-cailzie, but + his wife wants to know men who do.” + </p> + <p> + It must be confessed that Salter was of the English who were not pleased + with the American Invasion. In some of his views of the matter he was a + little prehistoric and savage, but the modern side of his character was + too intelligent to lack reason. He was by no means entirely modern, + however; a large part of his nature belonged to the age in which men had + fought fiercely for what they wanted to get or keep, and when the + amenities of commerce had not become powerful factors in existence. + </p> + <p> + “They're not a bad lot,” he was thinking at this moment. + “They are rather fine in a way. They are clever and powerful and + interesting—more so than they know themselves. But it is all + commerce. They don't come and fight with us and get possession of us by + force. They come and buy us. They buy our land and our homes, and our + landowners, for that matter—when they don't buy them, they send + their women to marry them, confound it!” + </p> + <p> + He took half a dozen more strides and lifted his shoulders again. + </p> + <p> + “Beggarly lot as I am,” he said, “unlikely as it seems + that I can marry at all, I'm hanged if I don't marry an Englishwoman, if I + give my life to a woman at all.” + </p> + <p> + But, in fact, he was of the opinion that he should never give his life to + any woman, and this was because he was, at this period, also of the + opinion that there was small prospect of its ever being worth the giving + or taking. It had been one of those lives which begin untowardly and are + ruled by unfair circumstances. + </p> + <p> + He had a particularly well-cut and expressive mouth, and, as he went back + to the ship's side and leaned on his folded arms on the rail again, its + curves concealed a good deal of strong feeling. + </p> + <p> + The wharf was busier than before. In less than half an hour the ship was + to sail. The bustle and confusion had increased. There were people + hurrying about looking for friends, and there were people scribbling off + excited farewell messages at the telegraph office. The situation was + working up to its climax. An observing looker-on might catch glimpses of + emotional scenes. Many of the passengers were already on board, parties of + them accompanied by their friends were making their way up the gangplank. + </p> + <p> + Salter had just been watching a luxuriously cared-for little invalid woman + being carried on deck in a reclining chair, when his attention was + attracted by the sound of trampling hoofs and rolling wheels. Two + noticeably big and smart carriages had driven up to the stopping-place for + vehicles. They were gorgeously of the latest mode, and their tall, + satin-skinned horses jangled silver chains and stepped up to their noses. + </p> + <p> + “Here come the Worthingtons, whosoever they may be,” thought + Salter. “The fine up-standing young woman is, no doubt, the + multi-millionairess.” + </p> + <p> + The fine, up-standing young woman WAS the multi-millionairess. Bettina + walked up the gangway in the sunshine, and the passengers upon the upper + deck craned their necks to look at her. Her carriage of her head and + shoulders invariably made people turn to look. + </p> + <p> + “My, ain't she fine-looking!” exclaimed an excited lady + beholder above. “I guess that must be Miss Vanderpoel, the + multi-millionaire's daughter. Jane told me she'd heard she was crossing + this trip.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina heard her. She sometimes wondered if she was ever pointed out, if + her name was ever mentioned without the addition of the explanatory + statement that she was the multi-millionaire's daughter. As a child she + had thought it ridiculous and tiresome, as she had grown older she had + felt that only a remarkable individuality could surmount a fact so ever + present. + </p> + <p> + It was like a tremendous quality which overshadowed everything else. + </p> + <p> + “It wounds my vanity, I have no doubt,” she had said to her + father. “Nobody ever sees me, they only see you and your millions + and millions of dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Salter watched her pass up the gangway. The phase through which he was + living was not of the order which leads a man to dwell upon the beautiful + and inspiriting as expressed by the female image. Success and the + hopefulness which engender warmth of soul and quickness of heart are + required for the development of such allurements. He thought of the + Vanderpoel millions as the lady on the deck had thought of them, and in + his mind somehow the girl herself appeared to express them. The rich + up-springing sweep of her abundant hair, her height, her colouring, the + remarkable shade and length of her lashes, the full curve of her mouth, + all, he told himself, looked expensive, as if even nature herself had been + given carte blanche, and the best possible articles procured for the + money. + </p> + <p> + “She moves,” he thought sardonically, “as if she were + perfectly aware that she could pay for anything. An unlimited income, no + doubt, establishes in the owner the equivalent to a sense of rank.” + </p> + <p> + He changed his position for one in which he could command a view of the + promenade deck where the arriving passengers were gradually appearing. He + did this from the idle and careless curiosity which, though it is not a + matter of absolute interest, does not object to being entertained by + passing objects. He saw the Worthington party reappear. It struck Salter + that they looked not so much like persons coming on board a ship, as like + people who were returning to a hotel to which they were accustomed, and + which was also accustomed to them. He argued that they had probably + crossed the Atlantic innumerable times in this particular steamer. The + deck stewards knew them and made obeisance with empressement. Miss + Vanderpoel nodded to the steward Salter had heard discussing her. She gave + him a smile of recognition and paused a moment to speak to him. Salter saw + her sweep the deck with her glance and then designate a sequestered + corner, such as the experienced voyager would recognise as being desirably + sheltered. She was evidently giving an order concerning the placing of her + deck chair, which was presently brought. An elegantly neat and decorous + person in black, who was evidently her maid, appeared later, followed by a + steward who carried cushions and sumptuous fur rugs. These being arranged, + a delightful corner was left alluringly prepared. Miss Vanderpoel, after + her instructions to the deck steward, had joined her party and seemed to + be awaiting some arrival anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “She knows how to do herself well,” Salter commented, “and + she realises that forethought is a practical factor. Millions have been + productive of composure. It is not unnatural, either.” + </p> + <p> + It was but a short time later that the warning bell was rung. Stewards + passed through the crowds calling out, “All ashore, if you please—all + ashore.” Final embraces were in order on all sides. People shook + hands with fervour and laughed a little nervously. Women kissed each other + and poured forth hurried messages to be delivered on the other side of the + Atlantic. Having kissed and parted, some of them rushed back and indulged + in little clutches again. Notwithstanding that the tide of humanity surges + across the Atlantic almost as regularly as the daily tide surges in on its + shores, a wave of emotion sweeps through every ship at such partings. + </p> + <p> + Salter stood on deck and watched the crowd dispersing. Some of the people + were laughing and some had red eyes. Groups collected on the wharf and + tried to say still more last words to their friends crowding against the + rail. + </p> + <p> + The Worthingtons kept their places and were still looking out, by this + time disappointedly. It seemed that the friend or friends they expected + were not coming. Salter saw that Miss Vanderpoel looked more disappointed + than the rest. She leaned forward and strained her eyes to see. Just at + the last moment there was the sound of trampling horses and rolling wheels + again. From the arriving carriage descended hastily an elderly woman, who + lifted out a little boy excited almost to tears. He was a dear, chubby + little person in flapping sailor trousers, and he carried a + splendidly-caparisoned toy donkey in his arms. Salter could not help + feeling slightly excited himself as they rushed forward. He wondered if + they were passengers who would be left behind. + </p> + <p> + They were not passengers, but the arrivals Miss Vanderpoel had been + expecting so ardently. They had come to say good-bye to her and were too + late for that, at least, as the gangway was just about to be withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel leaned forward with an amazingly fervid expression on her + face. + </p> + <p> + “Tommy! Tommy!” she cried to the little boy. “Here I am, + Tommy. We can say good-bye from here.” + </p> + <p> + The little boy, looking up, broke into a wail of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Betty! Betty! Betty!” he cried. “I wanted to kiss you, + Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Betty held out her arms. She did it with entire forgetfulness of the + existence of any lookers-on, and with such outreaching love on her face + that it seemed as if the child must feel her touch. She made a beautiful, + warm, consoling bud of her mouth. + </p> + <p> + “We'll kiss each other from here, Tommy,” she said. “See, + we can. Kiss me, and I will kiss you.” + </p> + <p> + Tommy held out his arms and the magnificent donkey. “Betty,” + he cried, “I brought you my donkey. I wanted to give it to you for a + present, because you liked it.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel bent further forward and addressed the elderly woman. + </p> + <p> + “Matilda,” she said, “please pack Master Tommy's present + and send it to me! I want it very much.” + </p> + <p> + Tender smiles irradiated the small face. The gangway was withdrawn, and, + amid the familiar sounds of a big craft's first struggle, the ship began + to move. Miss Vanderpoel still bent forward and held out her arms. + </p> + <p> + “I will soon come back, Tommy,” she cried, “and we are + always friends.” + </p> + <p> + The child held out his short blue serge arms also, and Salter watching him + could not but be touched for all his gloom of mind. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to kiss you, Betty,” he heard in farewell. “I + did so want to kiss you.” + </p> + <p> + And so they steamed away upon the blue. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE SECOND-CLASS PASSENGER + </h3> + <p> + Up to a certain point the voyage was like all other voyages. During the + first two days there were passengers who did not appear on deck, but as + the weather was fair for the season of the year, there were fewer + absentees than is usual. Indeed, on the third day the deck chairs were all + filled, people who were given to tramping during their voyages had begun + to walk their customary quota of carefully-measured miles the day. There + were a few pale faces dozing here and there, but the general aspect of + things had begun to be sprightly. Shuffleboard players and quoit + enthusiasts began to bestir themselves, the deck steward appeared + regularly with light repasts of beef tea and biscuits, and the brilliant + hues of red, blue, or yellow novels made frequent spots of colour upon the + promenade. Persons of some initiative went to the length of making + tentative observations to their next-chair neighbours. The second-cabin + passengers were cheerful, and the steerage passengers, having tumbled up, + formed friendly groups and began to joke with each other. + </p> + <p> + The Worthingtons had plainly the good fortune to be respectable sailors. + They reappeared on the second day and established regular habits, after + the manner of accustomed travellers. Miss Vanderpoel's habits were regular + from the first, and when Salter saw her he was impressed even more at the + outset with her air of being at home instead of on board ship. Her + practically well-chosen corner was an agreeable place to look at. Her + chair was built for ease of angle and width, her cushions were of dark + rich colours, her travelling rugs were of black fox fur, and she owned an + adjustable table for books and accompaniments. She appeared early in the + morning and walked until the sea air crimsoned her cheeks, she sat and + read with evident enjoyment, she talked to her companions and plainly + entertained them. + </p> + <p> + Salter, being bored and in bad spirits, found himself watching her rather + often, but he knew that but for the small, comic episode of Tommy, he + would have definitely disliked her. The dislike would not have been fair, + but it would have existed in spite of himself. It would not have been fair + because it would have been founded simply upon the ignoble resentment of + envy, upon the poor truth that he was not in the state of mind to avoid + resenting the injustice of fate in bestowing multi-millions upon one + person and his offspring. He resented his own resentment, but was obliged + to acknowledge its existence in his humour. He himself, especially and + peculiarly, had always known the bitterness of poverty, the humiliation of + seeing where money could be well used, indeed, ought to be used, and at + the same time having ground into him the fact that there was no money to + lay one's hand on. He had hated it even as a boy, because in his case, and + that of his people, the whole thing was undignified and unbecoming. It was + humiliating to him now to bring home to himself the fact that the thing + for which he was inclined to dislike this tall, up-standing girl was her + unconscious (he realised the unconsciousness of it) air of having always + lived in the atmosphere of millions, of never having known a reason why + she should not have anything she had a desire for. Perhaps, upon the + whole, he said to himself, it was his own ill luck and sense of defeat + which made her corner, with its cushions and comforts, her properly + attentive maid, and her cold weather sables expressive of a fortune too + colossal to be decent. + </p> + <p> + The episode of the plump, despairing Tommy he had liked, however. There + had been a fine naturalness about it and a fine practicalness in her + prompt order to the elderly nurse that the richly-caparisoned donkey + should be sent to her. This had at once made it clear to the donor that + his gift was too valuable to be left behind. + </p> + <p> + “She did not care twopence for the lot of us,” was his summing + up. “She might have been nothing but the nicest possible + warm-hearted nursemaid or a cottage woman who loved the child.” + </p> + <p> + He was quite aware that though he had found himself more than once + observing her, she herself had probably not recognised the trivial fact of + his existing upon that other side of the barrier which separated the + higher grade of passenger from the lower. There was, indeed, no reason why + she should have singled him out for observation, and she was, in fact, too + frequently absorbed in her own reflections to be in the frame of mind to + remark her fellow passengers to the extent which was generally customary + with her. During her crossings of the Atlantic she usually made mental + observation of the people on board. This time, when she was not talking to + the Worthingtons, or reading, she was thinking of the possibilities of her + visit to Stornham. She used to walk about the deck thinking of them and, + sitting in her chair, sum them up as her eyes rested on the rolling and + breaking waves. + </p> + <p> + There were many things to be considered, and one of the first was the + perfectly sane suggestion her father had made. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose she does not want to be rescued? Suppose you find her a + comfortable fine lady who adores her husband.” + </p> + <p> + Such a thing was possible, though Bettina did not think it probable. She + intended, however, to prepare herself even for this. If she found Lady + Anstruthers plump and roseate, pleased with herself and her position, she + was quite equal to making her visit appear a casual and conventional + affair. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to wish it to be so,” she thought, “and, yet, + how disappointingly I should feel she had changed. Still, even ethical + reasons would not excuse one for wishing her to be miserable.” She + was a creature with a number of passionate ideals which warred frequently + with the practical side of her mentality. Often she used to walk up and + down the deck or lean upon the ship's side, her eyes stormy with emotions. + </p> + <p> + “I do not want to find Rosy a heartless woman, and I do not want to + find her wretched. What do I want? Only the usual thing—that what + cannot be undone had never been done. People are always wishing that.” + </p> + <p> + She was standing near the second-cabin barrier thinking this, the first + time she saw the passenger with the red hair. She had paused by mere + chance, and while her eyes were stormy with her thought, she suddenly + became conscious that she was looking directly into other eyes as darkling + as her own. They were those of a man on the wrong side of the barrier. He + had a troubled, brooding face, and, as their gaze met, each of them + started slightly and turned away with the sense of having unconsciously + intruded and having been intruded upon. + </p> + <p> + “That rough-looking man,” she commented to herself, “is + as anxious and disturbed as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Salter did look rough, it was true. His well-worn clothes had suffered + somewhat from the restrictions of a second-class cabin shared with two + other men. But the aspect which had presented itself to her brief glance + had been not so much roughness of clothing as of mood expressing itself in + his countenance. He was thinking harshly and angrily of the life ahead of + him. + </p> + <p> + These looks of theirs which had so inadvertently encountered each other + were of that order which sometimes startles one when in passing a stranger + one finds one's eyes entangled for a second in his or hers, as the case + may be. At such times it seems for that instant difficult to disentangle + one's gaze. But neither of these two thought of the other much, after + hurrying away. Each was too fully mastered by personal mood. + </p> + <p> + There would, indeed, have been no reason for their encountering each other + further but for “the accident,” as it was called when spoken + of afterwards, the accident which might so easily have been a catastrophe. + It occurred that night. This was two nights before they were to land. + </p> + <p> + Everybody had begun to come under the influence of that cheerfulness of + humour, the sense of relief bordering on gaiety, which generally elates + people when a voyage is drawing to a close. If one has been dull, one + begins to gather one's self together, rejoiced that the boredom is over. + In any case, there are plans to be made, thought of, or discussed. + </p> + <p> + “You wish to go to Stornham at once?” Mrs. Worthington said to + Bettina. “How pleased Lady Anstruthers and Sir Nigel must be at the + idea of seeing you with them after so long.” + </p> + <p> + “I can scarcely tell you how I am looking forward to it,” + Betty answered. + </p> + <p> + She sat in her corner among her cushions looking at the dark water which + seemed to sweep past the ship, and listening to the throb of the engines. + She was not gay. She was wondering how far the plans she had made would + prove feasible. Mrs. Worthington was not aware that her visit to Stornham + Court was to be unannounced. It had not been necessary to explain the + matter. The whole affair was simple and decorous enough. Miss Vanderpoel + was to bid good-bye to her friends and go at once to her sister, Lady + Anstruthers, whose husband's country seat was but a short journey from + London. Bettina and her father had arranged that the fact should be kept + from the society paragraphist. This had required some adroit management, + but had actually been accomplished. + </p> + <p> + As the waves swished past her, Bettina was saying to herself, “What + will Rosy say when she sees me! What shall I say when I see Rosy? We are + drawing nearer to each other with every wave that passes.” + </p> + <p> + A fog which swept up suddenly sent them all below rather early. The + Worthingtons laughed and talked a little in their staterooms, but + presently became quiet and had evidently gone to bed. Bettina was restless + and moved about her room alone after she had sent away her maid. She at + last sat down and finished a letter she had been writing to her father. + </p> + <p> + “As I near the land,” she wrote, “I feel a sort of + excitement. Several times to-day I have recalled so distinctly the picture + of Rosy as I saw her last, when we all stood crowded upon the wharf at New + York to see her off. She and Nigel were leaning upon the rail of the upper + deck. She looked such a delicate, airy little creature, quite like a + pretty schoolgirl with tears in her eyes. She was laughing and crying at + the same time, and kissing both her hands to us again and again. I was + crying passionately myself, though I tried to conceal the fact, and I + remember that each time I looked from Rosy to Nigel's heavy face the + poignancy of my anguish made me break forth again. I wonder if it was + because I was a child, that he looked such a contemptuous brute, even when + he pretended to smile. It is twelve years since then. I wonder—how I + wonder, what I shall find.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped writing and sat a few moments, her chin upon her hand, + thinking. Suddenly she sprang to her feet in alarm. The stillness of the + night was broken by wild shouts, a running of feet outside, a tumult of + mingled sounds and motion, a dash and rush of surging water, a strange + thumping and straining of engines, and a moment later she was hurled from + one side of her stateroom to the other by a crashing shock which seemed to + heave the ship out of the sea, shuddering as if the end of all things had + come. + </p> + <p> + It was so sudden and horrible a thing that, though she had only been flung + upon a pile of rugs and cushions and was unhurt, she felt as if she had + been struck on the head and plunged into wild delirium. Above the sound of + the dashing and rocking waves, the straining and roaring of hacking + engines and the pandemonium of voices rose from one end of the ship to the + other, one wild, despairing, long-drawn shriek of women and children. + Bettina turned sick at the mad terror in it—the insensate, awful + horror. + </p> + <p> + “Something has run into us!” she gasped, getting up with her + heart leaping in her throat. + </p> + <p> + She could hear the Worthingtons' tempest of terrified confusion through + the partitions between them, and she remembered afterwards that in the + space of two or three seconds, and in the midst of their clamour, a + hundred incongruous thoughts leaped through her brain. Perhaps they were + this moment going down. Now she knew what it was like! This thing she had + read of in newspapers! Now she was going down in mid-ocean, she, Betty + Vanderpoel! And, as she sprang to clutch her fur coat, there flashed + before her mental vision a gruesome picture of the headlines in the + newspapers and the inevitable reference to the millions she represented. + </p> + <p> + “I must keep calm,” she heard herself say, as she fastened the + long coat, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. “Poor + Daddy—poor Daddy!” + </p> + <p> + Maddening new sounds were all about her, sounds of water dashing and + churning, sounds of voices bellowing out commands, straining and leaping + sounds of the engines. What was it—what was it? She must at least + find out. Everybody was going mad in the staterooms, the stewards were + rushing about, trying to quiet people, their own voices shaking and + breaking into cracked notes. If the worst had happened, everyone would be + fighting for life in a few minutes. Out on deck she must get and find out + for herself what the worst was. + </p> + <p> + She was the first woman outside, though the wails and shrieks swelled + below, and half-dressed, ghastly creatures tumbled gasping up the + companion-way. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she heard. “My God! what's happened? + Where's the Captain! Are we going down! The boats! The boats!” + </p> + <p> + It was useless to speak to the seamen rushing by. They did not see, much + less hear! She caught sight of a man who could not be a sailor, since he + was standing still. She made her way to him, thankful that she had managed + to stop her teeth chattering. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened to us?” she said. + </p> + <p> + He turned and looked at her straitly. He was the second-cabin passenger + with the red hair. + </p> + <p> + “A tramp steamer has run into us in the fog,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “How much harm is done?” + </p> + <p> + “They are trying to find out. I am standing here on the chance of + hearing something. It is madness to ask any man questions.” + </p> + <p> + They spoke to each other in short, sharp sentences, knowing there was no + time to lose. + </p> + <p> + “Are you horribly frightened?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She stamped her foot. + </p> + <p> + “I hate it—I hate it!” she said, flinging out her hand + towards the black, heaving water. “The plunge—the choking! No + one could hate it more. But I want to DO something!” + </p> + <p> + She was turning away when he caught her hand and held her. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a second,” he said. “I hate it as much as you do, + but I believe we two can keep our heads. Those who can do that may help, + perhaps. Let us try to quiet the people. As soon as I find out anything I + will come to your friends' stateroom. You are near the boats there. Then I + shall go back to the second cabin. You work on your side and I'll work on + mine. That's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Tell the Worthingtons. I'm going to the saloon deck.” + She was off as she spoke. + </p> + <p> + Upon the stairway she found herself in the midst of a struggling + panic-stricken mob, tripping over each other on the steps, and clutching + at any garment nearest, to drag themselves up as they fell, or were on the + point of falling. Everyone was crying out in question and appeal. + </p> + <p> + Bettina stood still, a firm, tall obstacle, and clutched at the hysteric + woman who was hurled against her. + </p> + <p> + “I've been on deck,” she said. “A tramp steamer has run + into us. No one has time to answer questions. The first thing to do is to + put on warm clothes and secure the life belts in case you need them.” + </p> + <p> + At once everyone turned upon her as if she was an authority. She replied + with almost fierce determination to the torrent of words poured forth. + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing further—only that if one is not a fool one + must make sure of clothes and belts.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite right, Miss Vanderpoel,” said one young man, touching + his cap in nervous propitiation. + </p> + <p> + “Stop screaming,” Betty said mercilessly to the woman. “It's + idiotic—the more noise you make the less chance you have. How can + men keep their wits among a mob of shrieking, mad women?” + </p> + <p> + That the remote Miss Vanderpoel should have emerged from her luxurious + corner to frankly bully the lot of them was an excellent shock for the + crowd. Men, who had been in danger of losing their heads and becoming as + uncontrolled as the women, suddenly realised the fact and pulled + themselves together. Bettina made her way at once to the Worthingtons' + staterooms. + </p> + <p> + There she found frenzy reigning. Blanche and Marie Worthington were + darting to and fro, dragging about first one thing and then another. They + were silly with fright, and dashed at, and dropped alternately, life + belts, shoes, jewel cases, and wraps, while they sobbed and cried out + hysterically. “Oh, what shall we do with mother! What shall we do!” + </p> + <p> + The manners of Betty Vanderpoel's sharp schoolgirl days returned to her in + full force. She seized Blanche by the shoulder and shook her. + </p> + <p> + “What a donkey you are!” she said. “Put on your clothes. + There they are,” pushing her to the place where they hung. “Marie—dress + yourself this moment. We may be in no real danger at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think not! Oh, Betty!” they wailed in concert. “Oh, + what shall we do with mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “She fainted—Louise——” + </p> + <p> + Betty was in Mrs. Worthington's cabin before they had finished speaking. + The poor woman had fainted, and struck her cheek against a chair. She lay + on the floor in her nightgown, with blood trickling from a cut on her + face. Her maid, Louise, was wringing her hands, and doing nothing + whatever. + </p> + <p> + “If you don't bring the brandy this minute,” said the + beautiful Miss Vanderpoel, “I'll box your ears. Believe me, my girl.” + She looked so capable of doing it that the woman was startled and actually + offended into a return of her senses. Miss Vanderpoel had usually the best + possible manners in dealing with her inferiors. + </p> + <p> + Betty poured brandy down Mrs. Worthington's throat and applied strong + smelling salts until she gasped back to consciousness. She had just burst + into frightened sobs, when Betty heard confusion and exclamations in the + adjoining room. Blanche and Marie had cried out, and a man's voice was + speaking. Betty went to them. They were in various stages of undress, and + the red-haired second-cabin passenger was standing at the door. + </p> + <p> + “I promised Miss Vanderpoel——” he was saying, when + Betty came forward. He turned to her promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I come to tell you that it seems absolutely to be relied on that + there is no immediate danger. The tramp is more injured than we are.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, are you sure? Are you sure?” panted Blanche, catching at + his sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered. “Can I do anything for you?” + he said to Bettina, who was on the point of speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be good enough to help me to assist Mrs. Worthington into + her berth, and then try to find the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + He went into the next room without speaking. To Mrs. Worthington he spoke + briefly a few words of reassurance. He was a powerful man, and laid her on + her berth without dragging her about uncomfortably, or making her feel + that her weight was greater than even in her most desponding moments she + had suspected. Even her helplessly hysteric mood was illuminated by a ray + of grateful appreciation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you—thank you,” she murmured. “And you + are quite sure there is no actual danger, Mr.——?” + </p> + <p> + “Salter,” he terminated for her. “You may feel safe. The + damage is really only slight, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “It is so good of you to come and tell us,” said the poor + lady, still tremulous. “The shock was awful. Our introduction has + been an alarming one. I—I don't think we have met during the voyage.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Salter. “I am in the second cabin.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! thank you. It's so good of you,” she faltered amiably, + for want of inspiration. As he went out of the stateroom, Salter spoke to + Bettina. + </p> + <p> + “I will send the doctor, if I can find him,” he said. “I + think, perhaps, you had better take some brandy yourself. I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “It's queer how little one seems to realise even that there are + second-cabin passengers,” commented Mrs. Worthington feebly. “That + was a nice man, and perfectly respectable. He even had a kind of—of + manner.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + LADY JANE GREY + </h3> + <p> + It seemed upon the whole even absurd that after a shock so awful and a + panic wild enough to cause people to expose their very souls—for + there were, of course, endless anecdotes to be related afterwards, + illustrative of grotesque terror, cowardice, and utter abandonment of all + shadows of convention—that all should end in an anticlimax of + trifling danger, upon which, in a day or two, jokes might be made. Even + the tramp steamer had not been seriously injured, though its injuries were + likely to be less easy of repair than those of the Meridiana. + </p> + <p> + “Still,” as a passenger remarked, when she steamed into the + dock at Liverpool, “we might all be at the bottom of the Atlantic + Ocean this morning. Just think what columns there would have been in the + newspapers. Imagine Miss Vanderpoel's being drowned.” + </p> + <p> + “I was very rude to Louise, when I found her wringing her hands over + you, and I was rude to Blanche,” Bettina said to Mrs. Worthington. + “In fact I believe I was rude to a number of people that night. I am + rather ashamed.” + </p> + <p> + “You called me a donkey,” said Blanche, “but it was the + best thing you could have done. You frightened me into putting on my + shoes, instead of trying to comb my hair with them. It was startling to + see you march into the stateroom, the only person who had not been turned + into a gibbering idiot. I know I was gibbering, and I know Marie was.” + </p> + <p> + “We both gibbered at the red-haired man when he came in,” said + Marie. “We clutched at him and gibbered together. Where is the + red-haired man, Betty? Perhaps we made him ill. I've not seen him since + that moment.” + </p> + <p> + “He is in the second cabin, I suppose,” Bettina answered, + “but I have not seen him, either.” + </p> + <p> + “We ought to get up a testimonial and give it to him, because he did + not gibber,” said Blanche. “He was as rude and as sensible as + you were, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + They did not see him again, in fact, at that time. He had reasons of his + own for preferring to remain unseen. The truth was that the nearer his + approach to his native shores, the nastier, he was perfectly conscious, + his temper became, and he did not wish to expose himself by any incident + which might cause him stupidly and obviously to lose it. + </p> + <p> + The maid, Louise, however, recognised him among her companions in the + third-class carriage in which she travelled to town. To her mind, whose + opinions were regulated by neatly arranged standards, he looked morose and + shabbily dressed. Some of the other second-cabin passengers had made + themselves quite smart in various, not too distinguished ways. He had not + changed his dress at all, and the large valise upon the luggage rack was + worn and battered as if with long and rough usage. The woman wondered a + little if he would address her, and inquire after the health of her + mistress. But, being an astute creature, she only wondered this for an + instant, the next she realised that, for one reason or another, it was + clear that he was not of the tribe of second-rate persons who pursue an + accidental acquaintance with their superiors in fortune, through sociable + interchange with their footmen or maids. + </p> + <p> + When the train slackened its speed at the platform of the station, he got + up, reaching down his valise and leaving the carriage, strode to the + nearest hansom cab, waving the porter aside. + </p> + <p> + “Charing Cross,” he called out to the driver, jumped in, and + was rattled away. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + During the years which had passed since Rosalie Vanderpoel first came to + London as Lady Anstruthers, numbers of huge luxurious hotels had grown up, + principally, as it seemed, that Americans should swarm into them and live + at an expense which reminded them of their native land. Such + establishments would never have been built for English people, whose habit + it is merely to “stop” at hotels, not to LIVE in them. The + tendency of the American is to live in his hotel, even though his + intention may be only to remain in it two days. He is accustomed to doing + himself extremely well in proportion to his resources, whether they be + great or small, and the comforts, as also the luxuries, he allows himself + and his domestic appendages are in a proportion much higher in its + relation to these resources than it would be were he English, French, + German, or Italians. As a consequence, he expects, when he goes forth, + whether holiday-making or on business, that his hostelry shall surround + him, either with holiday luxuries and gaiety, or with such lavishness of + comfort as shall alleviate the wear and tear of business cares and + fatigues. The rich man demands something almost as good as he has left at + home, the man of moderate means something much better. Certain persons + given to regarding public wants and desires as foundations for the fortune + of business schemes having discovered this, the enormous and sumptuous + hotel evolved itself from their astute knowledge of common facts. At the + entrances of these hotels, omnibuses and cabs, laden with trunks and + packages frequently bearing labels marked with red letters “S. S. + So-and-So, Stateroom—Hold—Baggage-room,” drew up and + deposited their contents and burdens at regular intervals. Then men with + keen, and often humorous faces or almost painfully anxious ones, their + exceedingly well-dressed wives, and more or less attractive and + vivacious-looking daughters, their eager little girls, and + un-English-looking little boys, passed through the corridors in flocks and + took possession of suites of rooms, sometimes for twenty-four hours, + sometimes for six weeks. + </p> + <p> + The Worthingtons took possession of such a suite in such a hotel. Bettina + Vanderpoel's apartments faced the Embankment. From her windows she could + look out at the broad splendid, muddy Thames, slowly rolling in its grave, + stately way beneath its bridges, bearing with it heavy lumbering barges, + excited tooting little penny steamers and craft of various shapes and + sizes, the errand or burden of each meaning a different story. + </p> + <p> + It had been to Bettina one of her pleasures of the finest epicurean + flavour to reflect that she had never had any brief and superficial + knowledge of England, as she had never been to the country at all in those + earlier years, when her knowledge of places must necessarily have been + always the incomplete one of either a schoolgirl traveller or a schoolgirl + resident, whose views were limited by the walls of restriction built + around her. + </p> + <p> + If relations of the usual ease and friendliness had existed between Lady + Anstruthers and her family, Bettina would, doubtless, have known her + sister's adopted country well. It would have been a thing so natural as to + be almost inevitable, that she would have crossed the Channel to spend her + holidays at Stornham. As matters had stood, however, the child herself, in + the days when she had been a child, had had most definite private views on + the subject of visits to England. She had made up her young mind + absolutely that she would not, if it were decently possible to avoid it, + set her foot upon English soil until she was old enough and strong enough + to carry out what had been at first her passionately romantic plans for + discovering and facing the truth of the reason for the apparent change in + Rosy. When she went to England, she would go to Rosy. As she had grown + older, having in the course of education and travel seen most Continental + countries, she had liked to think that she had saved, put aside for less + hasty consumption and more delicate appreciation of flavours, as it were, + the country she was conscious she cared for most. + </p> + <p> + “It is England we love, we Americans,” she had said to her + father. “What could be more natural? We belong to it—it + belongs to us. I could never be convinced that the old tie of blood does + not count. All nationalities have come to us since we became a nation, but + most of us in the beginning came from England. We are touching about it, + too. We trifle with France and labour with Germany, we sentimentalise over + Italy and ecstacise over Spain—but England we love. How it moves us + when we go to it, how we gush if we are simple and effusive, how we are + stirred imaginatively if we are of the perceptive class. I have heard the + commonest little half-educated woman say the prettiest, clumsy, emotional + things about what she has seen there. A New England schoolma'am, who has + made a Cook's tour, will almost have tears in her voice as she wanders on + with her commonplaces about hawthorn hedges and thatched cottages and + white or red farms. Why are we not unconsciously pathetic about German + cottages and Italian villas? Because we have not, in centuries past, had + the habit of being born in them. It is only an English cottage and an + English lane, whether white with hawthorn blossoms or bare with winter, + that wakes in us that little yearning, grovelling tenderness that is so + sweet. It is only nature calling us home.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Worthington came in during the course of the morning to find her + standing before her window looking out at the Thames, the Embankment, the + hansom cabs themselves, with an absolutely serious absorption. This + changed to a smile as she turned to greet her. + </p> + <p> + “I am delighted,” she said. “I could scarcely tell you + how much. The impression is all new and I am excited a little by + everything. I am so intensely glad that I have saved it so long and that I + have known it only as part of literature. I am even charmed that it rains, + and that the cabmen's mackintoshes are shining and wet.” She drew + forward a chair, and Mrs. Worthington sat down, looking at her with + involuntary admiration. + </p> + <p> + “You look as if you were delighted,” she said. “Your + eyes—you have amazing eyes, Betty! I am trying to picture to myself + what Lady Anstruthers will feel when she sees you. What were you like when + she married?” + </p> + <p> + Bettina sat down, smiling and looking, indeed, quite incredibly lovely. + She was capable of a warmth and a sweetness which were as embracing as + other qualities she possessed were powerful. + </p> + <p> + “I was eight years old,” she said. “I was a rude little + girl, with long legs and a high, determined voice. I know I was rude. I + remember answering back.” + </p> + <p> + “I seem to have heard that you did not like your brother-in-law, and + that you were opposed to the marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Imagine the undisciplined audacity of a child of eight 'opposing' + the marriage of her grown-up sister. I was quite capable of it. You see in + those days we had not been trained at all (one had only been allowed + tremendous liberty), and interfered conversationally with one's elders and + betters at any moment. I was an American little girl, and American little + girls were really—they really were!” with a laugh, whose + musical sound was after all wholly non-committal. + </p> + <p> + “You did not treat Sir Nigel Anstruthers as one of your betters.” + </p> + <p> + “He was one of my elders, at all events, and becomingness of bearing + should have taught me to hold my little tongue. I am giving some thought + now to the kind of thing I must invent as a suitable apology when I find + him a really delightful person, full of virtues and accomplishments. + Perhaps he has a horror of me.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to be present at your first meeting,” Mrs. + Worthington reflected. “You are going down to Stornham to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my plan. When I write to you on my arrival, I will tell you + if I encountered the horror.” Then, with a swift change of subject + and a lifting of her slender, velvet line of eyebrow, “I am only + deploring that I have not time to visit the Tower.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Worthington was betrayed into a momentary glance of uncertainty, + almost verging in its significance on a gasp. + </p> + <p> + “The Tower? Of London? Dear Betty!” + </p> + <p> + Bettina's laugh was mellow with revelation. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said. “You don't know my point of view; it's + plain enough. You see, when I delight in these things, I think I delight + most in my delight in them. It means that I am almost having the kind of + feeling the fresh American souls had who landed here thirty years ago and + revelled in the resemblance to Dickens's characters they met with in the + streets, and were historically thrilled by the places where people's heads + were chopped off. Imagine their reflections on Charles I., when they stood + in Whitehall gazing on the very spot where that poor last word was uttered—'Remember.' + And think of their joy when each crossing sweeper they gave + disproportionate largess to, seemed Joe All Alones in the slightest + disguise.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say——” Mrs. Worthington was + vaguely awakening to the situation. + </p> + <p> + “That the charm of my visit, to myself, is that I realise that I am + rather like that. I have positively preserved something because I have + kept away. You have been here so often and know things so well, and you + were even so sophisticated when you began, that you have never really had + the flavours and emotions. I am sophisticated, too, sophisticated enough + to have cherished my flavours as a gourmet tries to save the bouquet of + old wine. You think that the Tower is the pleasure of housemaids on a Bank + Holiday. But it quite makes me quiver to think of it,” laughing + again. “That I laugh, is the sign that I am not as beautifully, + freshly capable of enjoyment as those genuine first Americans were, and in + a way I am sorry for it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Worthington laughed also, and with an enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + “You are very clever, Betty,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” answered Bettina, “or, if I am, almost + everybody is clever in these days. We are nearly all of us comparatively + intelligent.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very interesting at all events, and the Anstruthers will + exult in you. If they are dull in the country, you will save them.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very interested, at all events,” said Bettina, “and + interest like mine is quite passe. A clever American who lives in England, + and is the pet of duchesses, once said to me (he always speaks of + Americans as if they were a distant and recently discovered species), + 'When they first came over they were a novelty. Their enthusiasm amused + people, but now, you see, it has become vieux jeu. Young women, whose + specialty was to be excited by the Tower of London and Westminster Abbey, + are not novelties any longer. In fact, it's been done, and it's done FOR + as a specialty.' And I am excited about the Tower of London. I may be able + to restrain my feelings at the sight of the Beef Eaters, but they will + upset me a little, and I must brace myself, I must indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, Betty?” said Mrs. Worthington, regarding her with + curiosity, arising from a faint doubt of her entire seriousness, mingled + with a fainter doubt of her entire levity. + </p> + <p> + Betty flung out her hands in a slight, but very involuntary-looking, + gesture, and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said, “it was all TRUE, you know. They were + all horribly real—the things that were shuddered over and + sentimentalised about. Sophistication, combined with imagination, makes + them materialise again, to me, at least, now I am here. The gulf between a + historical figure and a man or woman who could bleed and cry out in human + words was broad when one was at school. Lady Jane Grey, for instance, how + nebulous she was and how little one cared. She seemed invented merely to + add a detail to one's lesson in English history. But, as we drove across + Waterloo Bridge, I caught a glimpse of the Tower, and what do you suppose + I began to think of? It was monstrous. I saw a door in the Tower and the + stone steps, and the square space, and in the chill clear, early morning a + little slender, helpless girl led out, a little, fair, real thing like + Rosy, all alone—everyone she belonged to far away, not a man near + who dared utter a word of pity when she turned her awful, meek, young, + desperate eyes upon him. She was a pious child, and, no doubt, she lifted + her eyes to the sky. I wonder if it was blue and its blueness broke her + heart, because it looked as if it might have pitied such a young, patient + girl thing led out in the fair morning to walk to the hacked block and + give her trembling pardon to the black-visored man with the axe, and then + 'commending her soul to God' to stretch her sweet slim neck out upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty, dear!” Mrs. Worthington expostulated. + </p> + <p> + Bettina sprang to her and took her hand in pretty appeal. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon! I beg pardon, I really do,” she exclaimed. + “I did not intend deliberately to be painful. But that—beneath + the sophistication—is something of what I bring to England.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + “IS LADY ANSTRUTHERS AT HOME?” + </h3> + <p> + All that she had brought with her to England, combined with what she had + called “sophistication,” but which was rather her exquisite + appreciation of values and effects, she took with her when she went the + next day to Charing Cross Station and arranged herself at her ease in the + railway carriage, while her maid bought their tickets for Stornham. + </p> + <p> + What the people in the station saw, the guards and porters, the men in the + book stalls, the travellers hurrying past, was a striking-looking girl, + whose colouring and carriage made one turn to glance after her, and who, + having bought some periodicals and papers, took her place in a first-class + compartment and watched the passersby interestedly through the open + window. Having been looked at and remarked on during her whole life, + Bettina did not find it disturbing that more than one corduroy-clothed + porter and fresh-coloured, elderly gentleman, or freshly attired young + one, having caught a glimpse of her through her window, made it convenient + to saunter past or hover round. She looked at them much more frankly than + they looked at her. To her they were all specimens of the types she was at + present interested in. For practical reasons she was summing up English + character with more deliberate intention than she had felt in the years + when she had gradually learned to know Continental types and differentiate + such peculiarities as were significant of their ranks and nations. As the + first Reuben Vanderpoel had studied the countenances and indicative + methods of the inhabitants of the new parts of the country in which it was + his intention to do business, so the modernity of his descendant applied + itself to observation for reasons parallel in nature though not in actual + kind. As he had brought beads and firewater to bear as agents upon savages + who would barter for them skins and products which might be turned into + money, so she brought her nineteenth-century beauty, steadfastness of + purpose and alertness of brain to bear upon the matter the practical + dealing with which was the end she held in view. To bear herself in this + matter with as practical a control of situations as that with which her + great-grandfather would have borne himself in making a trade with a + previously unknown tribe of Indians was quite her intention, though it had + not occurred to her to put it to herself in any such form. Still, whether + she was aware of the fact or not, her point of view was exactly what the + first Reuben Vanderpoel's had been on many very different occasions. She + had before her the task of dealing with facts and factors of which at + present she knew but little. Astuteness of perception, self-command, and + adaptability were her chief resources. She was ready, either for calm, + bold approach, or equally calm and wholly non-committal retreat. + </p> + <p> + The perceptions she had brought with her filled her journey into Kent with + delicious things, delicious recognition of beauties she had before known + the existence of only through the reading of books, and the dwelling upon + their charms as reproduced, more or less perfectly, on canvas. She saw + roll by her, with the passing of the train, the loveliness of land and + picturesqueness of living which she had saved for herself with epicurean + intention for years. Her fancy, when detached from her thoughts of her + sister, had been epicurean, and she had been quite aware that it was so. + When she had left the suburbs and those villages already touched with + suburbanity behind, she felt herself settle into a glow of luxurious + enjoyment in the freshness of her pleasure in the familiar, and yet + unfamiliar, objects in the thick-hedged fields, whose broad-branched, + thick-foliaged oaks and beeches were more embowering in their shade, and + sweeter in their green than anything she remembered that other countries + had offered her, even at their best. Within the fields the hawthorn hedges + beautifully enclosed were groups of resigned mother sheep with their young + lambs about them. The curious pointed tops of the red hopkilns, piercing + the trees near the farmhouses, wore an almost intentional air of adding + picturesque detail. There were clusters of old buildings and dots of + cottages and cottage gardens which made her now and then utter + exclamations of delight. Little inarticulate Rosy had seen and felt it all + twelve years before on her hopeless bridal home-coming when Nigel had sat + huddled unbecomingly in the corner of the railway carriage. Her power of + expression had been limited to little joyful gasps and obvious laudatory + adjectives, smothered in their birth by her first glance at her + bridegroom. Betty, in seeing it, knew all the exquisiteness of her own + pleasure, and all the meanings of it. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was England—England. It was the England of Constable and + Morland, of Miss Mitford and Miss Austen, the Brontes and George Eliot. + The land which softly rolled and clothed itself in the rich verdure of + many trees, sometimes in lovely clusters, sometimes in covering copse, was + Constable's; the ripe young woman with the fat-legged children and the + farmyard beasts about her, as she fed the hens from the wooden piggin + under her arm, was Morland's own. The village street might be Miss + Mitford's, the well-to-do house Jane Austen's own fancy, in its warm brick + and comfortable decorum. She laughed a little as she thought it. + </p> + <p> + “That is American,” she said, “the habit of comparing + every stick and stone and breathing thing to some literary parallel. We + almost invariably say that things remind us of pictures or books—most + usually books. It seems a little crude, but perhaps it means that we are + an intensely literary and artistic people.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to find comparisons revealing to her their appositeness, + until her journey had ended by the train's slackening speed and coming to + a standstill before the rural-looking little station which had presented + its quaint aspect to Lady Anstruthers on her home-coming of years before. + </p> + <p> + It had not, during the years which certainly had given time for change, + altered in the least. The station master had grown stouter and more rosy, + and came forward with his respectful, hospitable air, to attend to the + unusual-looking young lady, who was the only first-class passenger. He + thought she must be a visitor expected at some country house, but none of + the carriages, whose coachmen were his familiar acquaintances, were in + waiting. That such a fine young lady should be paying a visit at any house + whose owners did not send an equipage to attend her coming, struck him as + unusual. The brougham from the “Crown,” though a decent + country town vehicle, seemed inadequate. Yet, there it stood drawn up + outside the station, and she went to it with the manner of a young lady + who had ordered its attendance and knew it would be there. + </p> + <p> + Wells felt a good deal of interest. Among the many young ladies who + descended from the first-class compartments and passed through the little + waiting-room on their way to the carriages of the gentry they were going + to visit, he did not know when a young lady had “caught his eye,” + so to speak, as this one did. She was not exactly the kind of young lady + one would immediately class mentally as “a foreigner,” but the + blue of her eyes was so deep, and her hair and eyelashes so dark, that + these things, combining themselves with a certain “way” she + had, made him feel her to be of a type unfamiliar to the region, at least. + </p> + <p> + He was struck, also, by the fact that the young lady had no maid with her. + The truth was that Bettina had purposely left her maid in town. If awkward + things occurred, the presence of an attendant would be a sort of + complication. It was better, on the first approach, to be wholly + unencumbered. + </p> + <p> + “How far are we from Stornham Court?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Five miles, my lady,” he answered, touching his cap. She + expressed something which to the rural and ingenuous, whose standards were + defined, demanded a recognition of probable rank. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to know,” was his comment to his wife when he went + home to dinner, “who has gone to Stornham Court to-day. There's few + enough visitors go there, and none such as her, for certain. She don't + live anywhere on the line above here, either, for I've never seen her face + before. She was a tall, handsome one—she was, but it isn't just that + made you look after her. She was a clever one with a spirit, I'll be + bound. I was wondering what her ladyship would have to say to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she was one of HIS fine ladies?” suggestively. + </p> + <p> + “That she wasn't, either. And, as for that, I wonder what he'd have + to say to such as she is.” + </p> + <p> + There was complexity of element enough in the thing she was on her way to + do, Bettina was thinking, as she was driven over the white ribbon of + country road that unrolled over rise and hollow, between the sheep-dotted + greenness of fields and the scented hedges. The soft beauty enclosing her + was a little shut out from her by her mental attitude. She brought forward + for her own decisions upon suitable action a number of possible situations + she might find herself called upon to confront. The one thing necessary + was that she should be prepared for anything whatever, even for Rosy's not + being pleased to see her, or for finding Sir Nigel a thoroughly reformed + and amiable character. + </p> + <p> + “It is the thing which seemingly CANNOT happen which one is most + likely to find one's self face to face with. It will be a little awkward + to arrange, if he has developed every domestic virtue, and is delighted to + see me.” + </p> + <p> + Under such rather confusing conditions her plan would be to present to + them, as an affectionate surprise, the unheralded visit, which might + appear a trifle uncalled for. She felt happily sure of herself under any + circumstances not partaking of the nature of collisions at sea. Yet she + had not behaved absolutely ill at the time of the threatened catastrophe + in the Meridiana. Her remembrance, an oddly sudden one, of the definite + manner of the red-haired second-class passenger, assured her of that. He + had certainly had all his senses about him, and he had spoken to her as a + person to be counted on. + </p> + <p> + Her pulse beat a little more hurriedly as the brougham entered Stornham + village. It was picturesque, but struck her as looking neglected. Many of + the cottages had an air of dilapidation. There were many broken windows + and unmended garden palings. A suggested lack of whitewash in several + cases was not cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing of the duties of English landlords,” she said, + looking through her carriage window, “but I should do it myself, if + I were Rosy.” + </p> + <p> + She saw, as she was taken through the park gateway, that that structure + was out of order, and that damaged diamond panes peered out from under the + thickness of the ivy massing itself over the lodge. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” was her thought, “it does not promise as it + should. Happy people do not let things fall to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + Even winding avenue, and spreading sward, and gorse, and broom, and + bracken, enfolding all the earth beneath huge trees, were not fair enough + to remove a sudden remote fear which arose in her rapidly reasoning mind. + It suggested to her a point of view so new that, while she was amazed at + herself for not having contemplated it before, she found herself wishing + that the coachman would drive rather more slowly, actually that she might + have more time to reflect. + </p> + <p> + They were nearing a dip in the park, where there was a lonely looking + pool. The bracken was thick and high there, and the sun, which had just + broken through a cloud, had pierced the trees with a golden gleam. + </p> + <p> + A little withdrawn from this shaft of brightness stood two figures, a + dowdy little woman and a hunchbacked boy. The woman held some ferns in her + hand, and the boy was sitting down and resting his chin on his hands, + which were folded on the top of a stick. + </p> + <p> + “Stop here for a moment,” Bettina said to the coachman. + “I want to ask that woman a question.” + </p> + <p> + She had thought that she might discover if her sister was at the Court. + She realised that to know would be a point of advantage. She leaned + forward and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” she said, “I wonder if you can tell + me——” + </p> + <p> + The woman came forward a little. She had a listless step and a faded, + listless face. + </p> + <p> + “What did you ask?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Betty leaned still further forward. + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me——” she began and stopped. A sense + of stricture in the throat stopped her, as her eyes took in the washed-out + colour of the thin face, the washed-out colour of the thin hair—thin + drab hair, dragged in straight, hard unbecomingness from the forehead and + cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Was it true that her heart was thumping, as she had heard it said that + agitation made hearts thump? + </p> + <p> + She began again. + </p> + <p> + “Can you—tell me if—Lady Anstruthers is at home?” + she inquired. As she said it she felt the blood surge up from the furious + heart, and the hand she had laid on the handle of the door of the brougham + clutched it involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + The dowdy little woman answered her indifferently, staring at her a + little. + </p> + <p> + “I am Lady Anstruthers,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Bettina opened the carriage door and stood upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Go on to the house,” she gave order to the coachman, and, + with a somewhat startled look, he drove away. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy!” Bettina's voice was a hushed, almost awed, thing. + “YOU are Rosy?” + </p> + <p> + The faded little wreck of a creature began to look frightened. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy!” she repeated, with a small, wry, painful smile. + </p> + <p> + She was the next moment held in the folding of strong, young arms, against + a quickly beating heart. She was being wildly kissed, and the very air + seemed rich with warmth and life. + </p> + <p> + “I am Betty,” she heard. “Look at me, Rosy! I am Betty. + Look at me and remember!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers gasped, and broke into a faint, hysteric laugh. She + suddenly clutched at Bettina's arm. For a minute her gaze was wild as she + looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” she cried out. “No! No! No! I can't believe it! + I can't! I can't!” + </p> + <p> + That just this thing could have taken place in her, Bettina had never + thought. As she had reflected on her way from the station, the impossible + is what one finds one's self face to face with. Twelve years should not + have changed a pretty blonde thing of nineteen to a worn, + unintelligent-looking dowdy of the order of dowdiness which seems to have + lived beyond age and sex. She looked even stupid, or at least stupefied. + At this moment she was a silly, middle-aged woman, who did not know what + to do. For a few seconds Bettina wondered if she was glad to see her, or + only felt awkward and unequal to the situation. + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe you,” she cried out again, and began to + shiver. “Betty! Little Betty? No! No! it isn't!” + </p> + <p> + She turned to the boy, who had lifted his chin from his stick, and was + staring. + </p> + <p> + “Ughtred! Ughtred!” she called to him. “Come! She says—she + says——” + </p> + <p> + She sat down upon a clump of heather and began to cry. She hid her face in + her spare hands and broke into sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty! No!” she gasped. “It's so long ago—it's + so far away. You never came—no one—no one—came!” + </p> + <p> + The hunchbacked boy drew near. He had limped up on his stick. He spoke + like an elderly, affectionate gnome, not like a child. + </p> + <p> + “Don't do that, mother,” he said. “Don't let it upset + you so, whatever it is.” + </p> + <p> + “It's so long ago; it's so far away!” she wept, with catches + in her breath and voice. “You never came!” + </p> + <p> + Betty knelt down and enfolded her again. Her bell-like voice was firm and + clear. + </p> + <p> + “I have come now,” she said. “And it is not far away. A + cable will reach father in two hours.” + </p> + <p> + Pursuing a certain vivid thought in her mind, she looked at her watch. + </p> + <p> + “If you spoke to mother by cable this moment,” she added, with + accustomed coolness, and she felt her sister actually start as she spoke, + “she could answer you by five o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruther's start ended in a laugh and gasp more hysteric than her + first. There was even a kind of wan awakening in her face, as she lifted + it to look at the wonderful newcomer. She caught her hand and held it, + trembling, as she weakly laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It must be Betty,” she cried. “That little stern way! + It is so like her. Betty—Betty—dear!” She fell into a + sobbing, shaken heap upon the heather. The harrowing thought passed + through Betty's mind that she looked almost like a limp bundle of shabby + clothes. She was so helpless in her pathetic, apologetic hysteria. + </p> + <p> + “I shall—be better,” she gasped. “It's nothing. + Ughtred, tell her.” + </p> + <p> + “She's very weak, really,” said the boy Ughtred, in his mature + way. “She can't help it sometimes. I'll get some water from the + pool.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go,” said Betty, and she darted down to the water. She + was back in a moment. The boy was rubbing and patting his mother's hands + tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” he remarked, as one consoled by a reflection, + “father is not at home.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + “I THOUGHT YOU HAD ALL FORGOTTEN.” + </h3> + <p> + As, after a singular half hour spent among the bracken under the trees, + they began their return to the house, Bettina felt that her sense of + adventure had altered its character. She was still in the midst of a + remarkable sort of exploit, which might end anywhere or in anything, but + it had become at once more prosaic in detail and more intense in its + significance. What its significance might prove likely to be when she + faced it, she had not known, it is true. But this was different from—from + anything. As they walked up the sun-dappled avenue she kept glancing aside + at Rosy, and endeavouring to draw useful conclusions. The poor girl's air + of being a plain, insignificant frump, long past youth, struck an + extraordinary and, for the time, unexplainable note. Her ill-cut, + out-of-date dress, the cheap suit of the hunchbacked boy, who limped + patiently along, helped by his crutch, suggested possible explanations + which were without doubt connected with the thought which had risen in + Bettina's mind, as she had been driven through the broken-hinged entrance + gate. What extraordinary disposal was being made of Rosy's money? But her + each glance at her sister also suggested complication upon complication. + </p> + <p> + The singular half hour under the trees by the pool, spent, after the first + hysteric moments were over, in vague exclaimings and questions, which + seemed half frightened and all at sea, had gradually shown her that she + was talking to a creature wholly other than the Rosalie who had so well + known and loved them all, and whom they had so well loved and known. They + did not know this one, and she did not know them, she was even a little + afraid of the stir and movement of their life and being. The Rosy they had + known seemed to be imprisoned within the wall the years of her separated + life had built about her. At each breath she drew Bettina saw how long the + years had been to her, and how far her home had seemed to lie away, so far + that it could not touch her, and was only a sort of dream, the recalling + of which made her suddenly begin to cry again every few minutes. To + Bettina's sensitively alert mind it was plain that it would not do in the + least to drag her suddenly out of her prison, or cloister, whichsoever it + might be. To do so would be like forcing a creature accustomed only to + darkness, to stare at the blazing sun. To have burst upon her with the old + impetuous, candid fondness would have been to frighten and shock her as if + with something bordering on indecency. She could not have stood it; + perhaps such fondness was so remote from her in these days that she had + even ceased to be able to understand it. + </p> + <p> + “Where are your little girls?” Bettina asked, remembering that + there had been notice given of the advent of two girl babies. + </p> + <p> + “They died,” Lady Anstruthers answered unemotionally. “They + both died before they were a year old. There is only Ughtred.” + </p> + <p> + Betty glanced at the boy and saw a small flame of red creep up on his + cheek. Instinctively she knew what it meant, and she put out her hand and + lightly touched his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you'll like me, Ughtred,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He almost started at the sound of her voice, but when he turned his face + towards her he only grew redder, and looked awkward without answering. His + manner was that of a boy who was unused to the amenities of polite + society, and who was only made shy by them. + </p> + <p> + Without warning, a moment or so later, Bettina stopped in the middle of + the avenue, and looked up at the arching giant branches of the trees which + had reached out from one side to the other, as if to clasp hands or + encompass an interlacing embrace. As far as the eye reached, they did + this, and the beholder stood as in a high stately pergola, with breaks of + deep azure sky between. Several mellow, cawing rooks were floating + solemnly beneath or above the branches, now wand then settling in some + highest one or disappearing in the thick greenness. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers stopped when her sister did so, and glanced at her in + vague inquiry. It was plain that she had outlived even her sense of the + beauty surrounding her. + </p> + <p> + “What are you looking at, Betty?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “At all of it,” Betty answered. “It is so wonderful.” + </p> + <p> + “She likes it,” said Ughtred, and then rather slunk a step + behind his mother, as if he were ashamed of himself. + </p> + <p> + “The house is just beyond those trees,” said Lady Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + They came in full view of it three minutes later. When she saw it, Betty + uttered an exclamation and stopped again to enjoy effects. + </p> + <p> + “She likes that, too,” said Ughtred, and, although he said it + sheepishly, there was imperfectly concealed beneath the awkwardness a + pleasure in the fact. + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” asked Rosalie, with her small, painful smile. + </p> + <p> + Betty laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It is too picturesque, in its special way, to be quite credible,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “I thought that when I first saw it,” said Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think so, now?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” was the rather uncertain reply, “as Nigel says, + there's not much good in a place that is falling to pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “Why let it fall to pieces?” Betty put it to her with + impartial promptness. + </p> + <p> + “We haven't money enough to hold it together,” resignedly. + </p> + <p> + As they climbed the low, broad, lichen-blotched steps, whose broken stone + balustrades were almost hidden in clutching, untrimmed ivy, Betty felt + them to be almost incredible, too. The uneven stones of the terrace the + steps mounted to were lichen-blotched and broken also. Tufts of green + growths had forced themselves between the flags, and added an untidy + beauty. The ivy tossed in branches over the red roof and walls of the + house. It had been left unclipped, until it was rather an endlessly + clambering tree than a creeper. The hall they entered had the beauty of + spacious form and good, old oaken panelling. There were deep window seats + and an ancient high-backed settle or so, and a massive table by the + fireless hearth. But there were no pictures in places where pictures had + evidently once hung, and the only coverings on the stone floor were the + faded remnants of a central rug and a worn tiger skin, the head almost + bald and a glass eye knocked out. + </p> + <p> + Bettina took in the unpromising details without a quiver of the + extravagant lashes. These, indeed, and the eyes pertaining to them, seemed + rather to sweep the fine roof, and a certain minstrel's gallery and + staircase, than which nothing could have been much finer, with the look of + an appreciative admirer of architectural features and old oak. She had not + journeyed to Stornham Court with the intention of disturbing Rosy, or of + being herself obviously disturbed. She had come to observe situations and + rearrange them with that intelligence of which unconsidered emotion or + exclamation form no part. + </p> + <p> + “It is the first old English house I have seen,” she said, + with a sigh of pleasure. “I am so glad, Rosy—I am so glad that + it is yours.” + </p> + <p> + She put a hand on each of Rosy's thin shoulders—she felt sharply + defined bones as she did so—and bent to kiss her. It was the natural + affectionate expression of her feeling, but tears started to Rosy's eyes, + and the boy Ughtred, who had sat down in a window seat, turned red again, + and shifted in his place. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty!” was Rosy's faint nervous exclamation, “you + seem so beautiful and—so—so strange—that you frighten + me.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laughed with the softest possible cheerfulness, shaking her a + little. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not seem strange long,” she said, “after I have + stayed with you a few weeks, if you will let me stay with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let you! Let you!” in a sort of gasp. + </p> + <p> + Poor little Lady Anstruthers sank on to a settle and began to cry again. + It was plain that she always cried when things occurred. Ughtred's speech + from his window seat testified at once to that. + </p> + <p> + “Don't cry, mother,” he said. “You know how we've talked + that over together. It's her nerves,” he explained to Bettina. + “We know it only makes things worse, but she can't stop it.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina sat on the settle, too. She herself was not then aware of the + wonderful feeling the poor little spare figure experienced, as her softly + strong young arms curved about it. She was only aware that she herself + felt that this was a heart-breaking thing, and that she must not—MUST + not let it be seen how much she recognised its woefulness. This was + pretty, fair Rosy, who had never done a harm in her happy life—this + forlorn thing was her Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” she said, half laughing again. “I rather + want to cry myself, and I am stronger than she is. I am immensely strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes!” said Lady Anstruthers, wiping her eyes, and making + a tremendous effort at self-respecting composure. “You are strong. I + have grown so weak in—well, in every way. Betty, I'm afraid this is + a poor welcome. You see—I'm afraid you'll find it all so different + from—from New York.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to find it different,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “But—but—I mean—you know——” Lady + Anstruthers turned helplessly to the boy. Bettina was struck with the + painful truth that she looked even silly as she turned to him. “Ughtred—tell + her,” she ended, and hung her head. + </p> + <p> + Ughtred had got down at once from his seat and limped forward. His + unprepossessing face looked as if he pulled his childishness together with + an unchildish effort. + </p> + <p> + “She means,” he said, in his awkward way, “that she + doesn't know how to make you comfortable. The rooms are all so shabby—everything + is so shabby. Perhaps you won't stay when you see.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina perceptibly increased the firmness of her hold on her sister's + body. It was as if she drew it nearer to her side in a kind of taking + possession. She knew that the moment had come when she might go this far, + at least, without expressing alarming things. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot show me anything that will frighten me,” was the + answer she made. “I have come to stay, Rosy. We can make things + right if they require it. Why not?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers started a little, and stared at her. She knew ten + thousand reasons why things had not been made right, and the casual + inference that such reasons could be lightly swept away as if by the mere + wave of a hand, implied a power appertaining to a time seeming so lost + forever that it was too much for her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty, Betty!” she cried, “you talk as if—you + are so——!” + </p> + <p> + The fact, so simple to the members of the abnormal class to which she of a + truth belonged, the class which heaped up its millions, the absolute + knowledge that there was a great deal of money in the world and that she + was of those who were among its chief owners, had ceased to seem a fact, + and had vanished into the region of fairy stories. + </p> + <p> + That she could not believe it a reality revealed itself to Bettina, as by + a flash, which was also a revelation of many things. There would be + unpleasing truths to be learned, and she had not made her pilgrimage for + nothing. But—in any event—there were advantages without doubt + in the circumstance which subjected one to being perpetually pointed out + as a daughter of a multi-millionaire. As this argued itself out for her + with rapid lucidity, she bent and kissed Rosy once more. She even tried to + do it lightly, and not to allow the rush of love and pity in her soul to + betray her. + </p> + <p> + “I talk as if—as if I were Betty,” she said. “You + have forgotten. I have not. I have been looking forward to this for years. + I have been planning to come to you since I was eleven years old. And here + we sit.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't forget? You didn't?” faltered the poor wreck of + Rosy. “Oh! Oh! I thought you had all forgotten me—quite—quite!” + </p> + <p> + And her face went down in her spare, small hands, and she began to cry + again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + UGHTRED + </h3> + <p> + Bettina stood alone in her bedroom a couple of hours later. Lady + Anstruthers had taken her to it, preparing her for its limitations by + explaining that she would find it quite different from her room in New + York. She had been pathetically nervous and flushed about it, and Bettina + had also been aware that the apartment itself had been hastily, and with + much moving of objects from one chamber to another, made ready for her. + </p> + <p> + The room was large and square and low. It was panelled in small squares of + white wood. The panels were old enough to be cracked here and there, and + the paint was stained and yellow with time, where it was not knocked or + worn off. There was a small paned, leaded window which filled a large part + of one side of the room, and its deep seat was an agreeable feature. + Sitting in it, one looked out over several red-walled gardens, and through + breaks in the trees of the park to a fair beyond. Bettina stood before + this window for a few moments, and then took a seat in the embrasure, that + she might gaze out and reflect at leisure. + </p> + <p> + Her genius, as has before been mentioned, was the genius for living, for + being vital. Many people merely exist, are kept alive by others, or + continue to vegetate because the persistent action of normal functions + will allow of their doing no less. Bettina Vanderpoel had lived vividly, + and in the midst of a self-created atmosphere of action from her first + hour. It was not possible for her to be one of the horde of mere + spectators. Wheresoever she moved there was some occult stirring of the + mental, and even physical, air. Her pulses beat too strongly, her blood + ran too fast to allow of inaction of mind or body. When, in passing + through the village, she had seen the broken windows and the hanging + palings of the cottages, it had been inevitable that, at once, she should, + in thought, repair them, set them straight. Disorder filled her with a + sort of impatience which was akin to physical distress. If she had been + born a poor woman she would have worked hard for her living, and found an + interest, almost an exhilaration, in her labour. Such gifts as she had + would have been applied to the tasks she undertook. It had frequently + given her pleasure to imagine herself earning her livelihood as a + seamstress, a housemaid, a nurse. She knew what she could have put into + her service, and how she could have found it absorbing. Imagination and + initiative could make any service absorbing. The actual truth was that if + she had been a housemaid, the room she set in order would have taken a + character under her touch; if she had been a seamstress, her work would + have been swiftly done, her imagination would have invented for her + combinations of form and colour; if she had been a nursemaid, the children + under her care would never have been sufficiently bored to become tiresome + or intractable, and they also would have gained character to which would + have been added an undeniable vividness of outlook. She could not have + left them alone, so to speak. In obeying the mere laws of her being, she + would have stimulated them. Unconsciously she had stimulated her fellow + pupils at school; when she was his companion, her father had always felt + himself stirred to interest and enterprise. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have been a man, Betty,” he used to say to her + sometimes. + </p> + <p> + But Betty had not agreed with him. + </p> + <p> + “You say that,” she once replied to him, “because you + see I am inclined to do things, to change them, if they need changing. + Well, one is either born like that, or one is not. Sometimes I think that + perhaps the people who must ACT are of a distinct race. A kind of vigorous + restlessness drives them. I remember that when I was a child I could not + see a pin lying upon the ground without picking it up, or pass a drawer + which needed closing, without giving it a push. But there has always been + as much for women to do as for men.” + </p> + <p> + There was much to be done here of one sort of thing and another. That was + certain. As she gazed through the small panes of her large windows, she + found herself overlooking part of a wilderness of garden, which revealed + itself through an arch in an overgrown laurel hedge. She had glimpses of + unkempt grass paths and unclipped topiary work which had lost its original + form. Among a tangle of weeds rose the heads of clumps of daffodils, + stirred by a passing wind of spring. In the park beyond a cuckoo was + calling. + </p> + <p> + She was conscious both of the forlorn beauty and significance of the + neglected garden, and of the clear quaintness of the cuckoo call, as she + thought of other things. + </p> + <p> + “Her spirit and her health are broken,” was her summing up. + “Her prettiness has faded to a rag. She is as nervous as an + ill-treated child. She has lost her wits. I do not know where to begin + with her. I must let her tell me things as gradually as she chooses. Until + I see Nigel I shall not know what his method with her has been. She looks + as if she had ceased to care for things, even for herself. What shall I + write to mother?” + </p> + <p> + She knew what she should write to her father. With him she could be + explicit. She could record what she had found and what it suggested to + her. She could also make clear her reason for hesitance and deliberation. + His discretion and affection would comprehend the thing which she herself + felt and which affection not combined with discretion might not take in. + He would understand, when she told him that one of the first things which + had struck her, had been that Rosy herself, her helplessness and timidity, + might, for a period at least, form obstacles in their path of action. He + not only loved Rosy, but realised how slight a sweet thing she had always + been, and he would know how far a slight creature's gentleness might be + overpowered and beaten down. + </p> + <p> + There was so much that her mother must be spared, there was indeed so + little that it would be wise to tell her, that Bettina sat gently rubbing + her forehead as she thought of it. The truth was that she must tell her + nothing, until all was over, accomplished, decided. Whatsoever there was + to be “over,” whatsoever the action finally taken, must be a + matter lying as far as possible between her father and herself. Mrs. + Vanderpoel's trouble would be too keen, her anxiety too great to keep to + herself, even if she were not overwhelmed by them. She must be told of the + beauties and dimensions of Stornham, all relatable details of Rosy's life + must be generously dwelt on. Above all Rosy must be made to write letters, + and with an air of freedom however specious. + </p> + <p> + A knock on the door broke the thread of her reflection. It was a + low-sounding knock, and she answered the summons herself, because she + thought it might be Rosy's. + </p> + <p> + It was not Lady Anstruthers who stood outside, but Ughtred, who balanced + himself on his crutches, and lifted his small, too mature, face. + </p> + <p> + “May I come in?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Here was the unexpected again, but she did not allow him to see her + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “Certainly you may.” + </p> + <p> + He swung in and then turned to speak to her. + </p> + <p> + “Please shut the door and lock it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + There was sudden illumination in this, but of an order almost whimsical. + That modern people in modern days should feel bolts and bars a necessity + of ordinary intercourse was suggestive. She was plainly about to receive + enlightenment. She turned the key and followed the halting figure across + the room. + </p> + <p> + “What are you afraid of?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “When mother and I talk things over,” he said, “we + always do it where no one can see or hear. It's the only way to be safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Safe from what?” + </p> + <p> + His eyes fixed themselves on her as he answered her almost sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Safe from people who might listen and go and tell that we had been + talking.” + </p> + <p> + In his thwarted-looking, odd child-face there was a shade of appeal not + wholly hidden by his evident wish not to be boylike. Betty felt a desire + to kneel down suddenly and embrace him, but she knew he was not prepared + for such a demonstration. He looked like a creature who had lived + continually at bay, and had learned to adjust himself to any situation + with caution and restraint. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, Ughtred,” she said, and when he did so she herself + sat down, but not too near him. + </p> + <p> + Resting his chin on the handle of a crutch, he gazed at her almost + protestingly. + </p> + <p> + “I always have to do these things,” he said, “and I am + not clever enough, or old enough. I am only eleven.” + </p> + <p> + The mention of the number of his years was plainly not apologetic, but was + a mere statement of his limitations. There the fact was, and he must make + the best of it he could. + </p> + <p> + “What things do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Trying to make things easier—explaining things when she + cannot think of excuses. To-day it is telling you what she is too + frightened to tell you herself. I said to her that you must be told. It + made her nervous and miserable, but I knew you must.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must,” Betty answered. “I am glad she has you to + depend on, Ughtred.” + </p> + <p> + His crutch grated on the floor and his boy eyes forbade her to believe + that their sudden lustre was in any way connected with restrained emotion. + </p> + <p> + “I know I seem queer and like a little old man,” he said. + “Mother cries about it sometimes. But it can't be helped. It is + because she has never had anyone but me to help her. When I was very + little, I found out how frightened and miserable she was. After his rages,” + he used no name, “she used to run into my nursery and snatch me up + in her arms and hide her face in my pinafore. Sometimes she stuffed it + into her mouth and bit it to keep herself from screaming. Once—before + I was seven—I ran into their room and shouted out, and tried to + fight for her. He was going out, and had his riding whip in his hand, and + he caught hold of me and struck me with it—until he was tired.” + </p> + <p> + Betty stood upright. + </p> + <p> + “What! What! What!” she cried out. + </p> + <p> + He merely nodded his head shortly. She saw what the thing had been by the + way his face lost colour. + </p> + <p> + “Of course he said it was because I was impudent, and needed + punishment,” he said. “He said she had encouraged me in + American impudence. It was worse for her than for me. She kneeled down and + screamed out as if she was crazy, that she would give him what he wanted + if he would stop.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” said Betty, drawing in her breath sharply. “'He,' + is Sir Nigel? And he wanted something.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded again + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” she demanded, “has he ever struck her?” + </p> + <p> + “Once,” he answered slowly, “before I was born—he + struck her and she fell against something. That is why I am like this.” + And he touched his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + The feeling which surged through Betty Vanderpoel's being forced her to go + and stand with her face turned towards the windows, her hands holding each + other tightly behind her back. + </p> + <p> + “I must keep still,” she said. “I must make myself keep + still.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke unconsciously half aloud, and Ughtred heard her and replied + hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “you must make yourself keep still. That + is what we have to do whatever happens. That is one of the things mother + wanted you to know. She is afraid. She daren't let you——” + </p> + <p> + She turned from the window, standing at her full height and looking very + tall for a girl. + </p> + <p> + “She is afraid? She daren't? See—that will come to an end now. + There are things which can be done.” + </p> + <p> + He flushed nervously. + </p> + <p> + “That is what she was afraid you would say,” he spoke fast and + his hands trembled. “She is nearly wild about it, because she knows + he will try to do something that will make you feel as if she does not + want you.” + </p> + <p> + “She is afraid of that?” Betty exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “He'd do it! He'd do it—if you did not know beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Betty, with unflinching clearness. “He is a + liar, is he?” + </p> + <p> + The helpless rage in the unchildish eyes, the shaking voice, as he cried + out in answer, were a shock. It was as if he wildly rejoiced that she had + spoken the word. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he's a liar—a liar!” he shrilled. “He's a + liar and a bully and a coward. He'd—he'd be a murderer if he dared—but + he daren't.” And his face dropped on his arms folded on his crutch, + and he broke into a passion of crying. Then Betty knew she might go to + him. She went and knelt down and put her arm round him. + </p> + <p> + “Ughtred,” she said, “cry, if you like, I should do it, + if I were you. But I tell you it can all be altered—and it shall be.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed quite like a little boy when he put out his hand to hers and + spoke sobbingly: + </p> + <p> + “She—she says—that because you have only just come from + America—and in America people—can do things—you will + think you can do things here—and you don't know. He will tell lies + about you lies you can't bear. She sat wringing her hands when she thought + of it. She won't let you be hurt because you want to help her.” He + stopped abruptly and clutched her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Betty! Aunt Betty—whatever happens—whatever he + makes her seem like—you are to know that it is not true. Now you + have come—now she has seen you it would KILL her if you were driven + away and thought she wanted you to go.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not think that,” she answered, slowly, because she + realised that it was well that she had been warned in time. “Ughtred, + are you trying to tell me that above all things I must not let him think + that I came here to help you, because if he is angry he will make us all + suffer—and your mother most of all?” + </p> + <p> + “He'll find a way. We always know he will. He would either be so + rude that you would not stay here—or he would make mother seem rude—or + he would write lies to grandfather. Aunt Betty, she scarcely believes you + are real yet. If she won't tell you things at first, please don't mind.” + He looked quite like a child again in his appeal to her, to try to + understand a state of affairs so complicated. “Could you—could + you wait until you have let her get—get used to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Used to thinking that there may be someone in the world to help + her?” slowly. “Yes, I will. Has anyone ever tried to help her?” + </p> + <p> + “Once or twice people found out and were sorry at first, but it only + made it worse, because he made them believe things.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not TRY, Ughtred,” said Betty, a remote spark + kindling in the deeps of the pupils of her steel-blue eyes. “I shall + not TRY. Now I am going to ask you some questions.” + </p> + <p> + Before he left her she had asked many questions which were pertinent and + searching, and she had learned things she realised she could have learned + in no other way and from no other person. But for his uncanny sense of the + responsibility he clearly had assumed in the days when he wore pinafores, + and which had brought him to her room to prepare her mind for what she + would find herself confronted with in the way of apparently unexplainable + obstacles, there was a strong likelihood that at the outset she might have + found herself more than once dangerously at a loss. Yes, she would have + been at a loss, puzzled, perhaps greatly discouraged. She was face to face + with a complication so extraordinary. + </p> + <p> + That one man, through mere persistent steadiness in evil temper and + domestic tyranny, should have so broken the creatures of his household + into abject submission and hopelessness, seemed too incredible. Such a + power appeared as remote from civilised existence in London and New York + as did that which had inflicted tortures in the dungeons of castles of + old. Prisoners in such dungeons could utter no cry which could reach the + outside world; the prisoners at Stornham Court, not four hours from Hyde + Park Corner, could utter none the world could hear, or comprehend if it + heard it. Sheer lack of power to resist bound them hand and foot. And she, + Betty Vanderpoel, was here upon the spot, and, as far as she could + understand, was being implored to take no steps, to do nothing. The + atmosphere in which she had spent her life, the world she had been born + into, had not made for fearfulness that one would be at any time + defenceless against circumstances and be obliged to submit to outrage. To + be a Vanderpoel was, it was true, to be a shining mark for envy as for + admiration, but the fact removed obstacles as a rule, and to find one's + self standing before a situation with one's hands, figuratively speaking, + tied, was new enough to arouse unusual sensations. She recalled, with an + ironic sense of bewilderment, as a sort of material evidence of her own + reality, the fact that not a week ago she had stepped on to English soil + from the gangway of a solid Atlantic liner. It aided her to resist the + feeling that she had been swept back into the Middle Ages. + </p> + <p> + “When he is angry,” was one of the first questions she put to + Ughtred, “what does he give as his reason? He must profess to have a + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “When he gets in a rage he says it is because mother is silly and + common, and I am badly brought up. But we always know he wants money, and + it makes him furious. He could kill us with rage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Betty. “I see.” + </p> + <p> + “It began that time when he struck her. He said then that it was not + decent that a woman who was married should keep her own money. He made her + give him almost everything she had, but she wants to keep some for me. He + tries to make her get more from grandfather, but she will not write + begging letters, and she won't give him what she is saving for me.” + </p> + <p> + It was a simple and sordid enough explanation in one sense, and it was one + of which Bettina had known, not one parallel, but several. Having married + to ensure himself power over unquestioned resources, the man had felt + himself disgustingly taken in, and avenged himself accordingly. In him had + been born the makings of a domestic tyrant who, even had he been favoured + by fortune, would have wreaked his humours upon the defenceless things + made his property by ties of blood and marriage, and who, being + unfavoured, would do worse. Betty could see what the years had held for + Rosy, and how her weakness and timidity had been considered as positive + assets. A woman who will cry when she is bullied, may be counted upon to + submit after she has cried. Rosy had submitted up to a certain point and + then, with the stubbornness of a weak creature, had stood at timid bay for + her young. + </p> + <p> + What Betty gathered was that, after the long and terrible illness which + had followed Ughtred's birth, she had risen from what had been so nearly + her deathbed, prostrated in both mind and body. Ughtred did not know all + that he revealed when he touched upon the time which he said his mother + could not quite remember—when she had sat for months staring + vacantly out of her window, trying to recall something terrible which had + happened, and which she wanted to tell her mother, if the day ever came + when she could write to her again. She had never remembered clearly the + details of the thing she had wanted to tell, and Nigel had insisted that + her fancy was part of her past delirium. He had said that at the beginning + of her delirium she had attacked and insulted his mother and himself but + they had excused her because they realised afterwards what the cause of + her excitement had been. For a long time she had been too brokenly weak to + question or disbelieve, but, later she had vaguely known that he had been + lying to her, though she could not refute what he said. She recalled, in + course of time, a horrible scene in which all three of them had raved at + each other, and she herself had shrieked and laughed and hurled wild words + at Nigel, and he had struck her. That she knew and never forgot. She had + been ill a year, her hair had fallen out, her skin had faded and she had + begun to feel like a nervous, tired old woman instead of a girl. Girlhood, + with all the past, had become unreal and too far away to be more than a + dream. Nothing had remained real but Stornham and Nigel and the little + hunchbacked baby. She was glad when the Dowager died and when Nigel spent + his time in London or on the Continent and left her with Ughtred. When he + said that he must spend her money on the estate, she had acquiesced + without comment, because that insured his going away. She saw that no + improvement or repairs were made, but she could do nothing and was too + listless to make the attempt. She only wanted to be left alone with + Ughtred, and she exhibited willpower only in defence of her child and in + her obstinacy with regard to asking money of her father. + </p> + <p> + “She thought, somehow, that grandfather and grandmother did not care + for her any more—that they had forgotten her and only cared for you,” + Ughtred explained. “She used to talk to me about you. She said you + must be so clever and so handsome that no one could remember her. + Sometimes she cried and said she did not want any of you to see her again, + because she was only a hideous, little, thin, yellow old woman. When I was + very little she told me stories about New York and Fifth Avenue. I thought + they were not real places—I though they were places in fairyland.” + </p> + <p> + Betty patted his shoulder and looked away for a moment when he said this. + In her remote and helpless loneliness, to Rosy's homesick, yearning soul, + noisy, rattling New York, Fifth Avenue with its traffic and people, its + brown-stone houses and ricketty stages, had seemed like THAT—so + splendid and bright and heart-filling, that she had painted them in + colours which could belong only to fairyland. It said so much. + </p> + <p> + The thing she had suspected as she had talked to her sister was, before + the interview ended, made curiously clear. The first obstacle in her + pathway would be the shrinking of a creature who had been so long under + dominion that the mere thought of seeing any steps taken towards her + rescue filled her with alarm. One might be prepared for her almost praying + to be let alone, because she felt that the process of her salvation would + bring about such shocks and torments as she could not endure the facing + of. + </p> + <p> + “She will have to get used to you,” Ughtred kept saying. + “She will have to get used to thinking things.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be careful,” Bettina answered. “She shall not be + troubled. I did not come to trouble her.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + ONE OF THE NEW YORK DRESSES + </h3> + <p> + As she went down the staircase later, on her way to dinner, Miss + Vanderpoel saw on all sides signs of the extent of the nakedness of the + land. She was in a fine old house, stripped of most of its saleable + belongings, uncared for, deteriorating year by year, gradually going to + ruin. One need not possess particular keenness of sight to observe this, + and she had chanced to see old houses in like condition in other countries + than England. A man-servant, in a shabby livery, opened the drawing-room + door for her. He was not a picturesque servitor of fallen fortunes, but an + awkward person who was not accustomed to his duties. Betty wondered if he + had been called in from the gardens to meet the necessities of the moment. + His furtive glance at the tall young woman who passed him, took in with + sudden embarrassment the fact that she plainly did not belong to the + dispirited world bounded by Stornham Court. Without sparkling gems or + trailing richness in her wake, she was suggestively splendid. He did not + know whether it was her hair or the build of her neck and shoulders that + did it, but it was revealed to him that tiaras and collars of stones which + blazed belonged without doubt to her equipment. He recalled that there was + a legend to the effect that the present Lady Anstruthers, who looked like + a rag doll, had been the daughter of a rich American, and that better + things might have been expected of her if she had not been such a + poor-spirited creature. If this was her sister, she perhaps was a young + woman of fortune, and that she was not of poor spirit was plain. + </p> + <p> + The large drawing-room presented but another aspect of the bareness of the + rest of the house. In times probably long past, possibly in the Dowager + Lady Anstruthers' early years of marriage, the walls had been hung with + white and gold paper of a pattern which dominated the scene, and had been + furnished with gilded chairs, tables, and ottomans. Some of these last had + evidently been removed as they became too much out of repair for use or + ornament. Such as remained, tarnished as to gilding and worn in the matter + of upholstery, stood sparsely scattered on a desert of carpet, whose huge, + flowered medallions had faded almost from view. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers, looking shy and awkward as she fingered an ornament on a + small table, seemed singularly a part of her background. Her evening + dress, slipping off her thin shoulders, was as faded and out of date as + her carpet. It had once been delicately blue and gauzy, but its gauziness + hung in crushed folds and its blue was almost grey. It was also the dress + of a girl, not that of a colourless, worn woman, and her consciousness of + its unfitness showed in her small-featured face as she came forward. + </p> + <p> + “Do you—recognise it, Betty?” she asked hesitatingly. + “It was one of my New York dresses. I put it on because—because——” + and her stammering ended helplessly. + </p> + <p> + “Because you wanted to remind me,” Betty said. If she felt it + easier to begin with an excuse she should be provided with one. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps but for this readiness to fall into any tone she chose to adopt + Rosy might have endeavoured to carry her poor farce on, but as it was she + suddenly gave it up. + </p> + <p> + “I put it on because I have no other,” she said. “We + never have visitors and I haven't dressed for dinner for so long that I + seem to have nothing left that is fit to wear. I dragged this out because + it was better than anything else. It was pretty once——” + she gave a little laugh, “twelve years ago. How long years seem! Was + I—was I pretty, Betty—twelve years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve years is not such a long time.” Betty took her hand + and drew her to a sofa. “Let us sit down and talk about it.” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing much to talk about. This is it——” + taking in the room with a wave of her hand. “I am it. Ughtred is it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us talk about England,” was Bettina's light skim + over the thin ice. + </p> + <p> + A red spot grew on each of Lady Anstruthers' cheek bones and made her + faded eyes look intense. + </p> + <p> + “Let us talk about America,” her little birdclaw of a hand + clinging feverishly. “Is New York still—still——” + </p> + <p> + “It is still there,” Betty answered with one of the adorable + smiles which showed a deep dimple near her lip. “But it is much + nearer England than it used to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Nearer!” The hand tightened as Rosy caught her breath. + </p> + <p> + Betty bent rather suddenly and kissed her. It was the easiest way of + hiding the look she knew had risen to her eyes. She began to talk gaily, + half laughingly. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite near,” she said. “Don't you realise it? + Americans swoop over here by thousands every year. They come for business, + they come for pleasure, they come for rest. They cannot keep away. They + come to buy and sell—pictures and books and luxuries and lands. They + come to give and take. They are building a bridge from shore to shore of + their work, and their thoughts, and their plannings, out of the lives and + souls of them. It will be a great bridge and great things will pass over + it.” She kissed the faded cheek again. She wanted to sweep Rosy away + from the dreariness of “it.” Lady Anstruthers looked at her + with faintly smiling eyes. She did not follow all this quite readily, but + she felt pleased and vaguely comforted. + </p> + <p> + “I know how they come here and marry,” she said. “The + new Duchess of Downes is an American. She had a fortune of two million + pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “If she chooses to rebuild a great house and a great name,” + said Betty, lifting her shoulders lightly, “why not—if it is + an honest bargain? I suppose it is part of the building of the bridge.” + </p> + <p> + Little Lady Anstruthers, trying to pull up the sleeves of the gauzy bodice + slipping off her small, sharp bones, stared at her half in wondering + adoration, half in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Betty—you—you are so handsome—and so clever and + strange,” she fluttered. “Oh, Betty, stand up so that I can + see how tall and handsome you are!” + </p> + <p> + Betty did as she was told, and upon her feet she was a young woman of long + lines, and fine curves so inspiring to behold that Lady Anstruthers + clasped her hands together on her knees in an excited gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! Oh, yes!” she cried. “You are just as + wonderful as you looked when I turned and saw you under the trees. You + almost make me afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am wonderful?” said Betty. “Then I will not + be wonderful any more.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not because I think you wonderful, but because other people + will. Would you rebuild a great house?” hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + The fine line of Betty's black brows drew itself slightly together. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “How could the man who owned it persuade me that he was in earnest + if he said he loved me? How could I persuade him that I was worth caring + for and not a mere ambitious fool? There would be too much against us.” + </p> + <p> + “Against you?” repeated Lady Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + “I don't say I am fair,” said Betty. “People who are + proud are often not fair. But we should both of us have seen and known too + much.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen me now,” said Lady Anstruthers in her listless + voice, and at the same moment dinner was announced and she got up from the + sofa, so that, luckily, there was no time for the impersonal answer it + would have been difficult to invent at a moment's notice. As they went + into the dining-room Betty was thinking restlessly. She remembered all the + material she had collected during her education in France and Germany, and + there was added to it the fact that she HAD seen Rosy, and having her + before her eyes she felt that there was small prospect of her + contemplating the rebuilding of any great house requiring reconstruction. + </p> + <p> + There was fine panelling in the dining-room and a great fireplace and a + few family portraits. The service upon the table was shabby and the dinner + was not a bounteous meal. Lady Anstruthers in her girlish, gauzy dress and + looking too small for her big, high-backed chair tried to talk rapidly, + and every few minutes forgot herself and sank into silence, with her eyes + unconsciously fixed upon her sister's face. Ughtred watched Betty also, + and with a hungry questioning. The man-servant in the worn livery was not + a sufficiently well-trained and experienced domestic to make any effort to + keep his eyes from her. He was young enough to be excited by an innovation + so unusual as the presence of a young and beautiful person surrounded by + an unmistakable atmosphere of ease and fearlessness. He had been talking + of her below stairs and felt that he had failed in describing her. He had + found himself barely supported by the suggestion of a housemaid that + sometimes these dresses that looked plain had been made in Paris at + expensive places and had cost “a lot.” He furtively examined + the dress which looked plain, and while he admitted that for some + mysterious reason it might represent expensiveness, it was not the dress + which was the secret of the effect, but a something, not altogether mere + good looks, expressed by the wearer. It was, in fact, the thing which the + second-class passenger, Salter, had been at once attracted and stirred to + rebellion by when Miss Vanderpoel came on board the Meridiana. + </p> + <p> + Betty did not look too small for her high-backed chair, and she did not + forget herself when she talked. In spite of all she had found, her + imagination was stirred by the surroundings. Her sense of the fine spaces + and possibilities of dignity in the barren house, her knowledge that + outside the windows there lay stretched broad views of the park and its + heavy-branched trees, and that outside the gates stood the neglected + picturesqueness of the village and all the rural and—to her—interesting + life it slowly lived—this pleased and attracted her. + </p> + <p> + If she had been as helpless and discouraged as Rosalie she could see that + it would all have meant a totally different and depressing thing, but, + strong and spirited, and with the power of full hands, she was remotely + rejoicing in what might be done with it all. As she talked she was + gradually learning detail. Sir Nigel was on the Continent. Apparently he + often went there; also it revealed itself that no one knew at what moment + he might return, for what reason he would return, or if he would return at + all during the summer. It was evident that no one had been at any time + encouraged to ask questions as to his intentions, or to feel that they had + a right to do so. + </p> + <p> + This she knew, and a number of other things, before they left the table. + When they did so they went out to stroll upon the moss-grown stone terrace + and listened to the nightingales throwing into the air silver fountains of + trilling song. When Bettina paused, leaning against the balustrade of the + terrace that she might hear all the beauty of it, and feel all the beauty + of the warm spring night, Rosy went on making her effort to talk. + </p> + <p> + “It is not much of a neighbourhood, Betty,” she said. “You + are too accustomed to livelier places to like it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my reason for feeling that I shall like it. I don't think I + could be called a lively person, and I rather hate lively places.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are accustomed—accustomed——” Rosy + harked back uncertainly. + </p> + <p> + “I have been accustomed to wishing that I could come to you,” + said Betty. “And now I am here.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers laid a hand on her dress. + </p> + <p> + “I can't believe it! I can't believe it!” she breathed. + </p> + <p> + “You will believe it,” said Betty, drawing the hand around her + waist and enclosing in her own arm the narrow shoulders. “Tell me + about the neighbourhood.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any, really,” said Lady Anstruthers. “The + houses are so far away from each other. The nearest is six miles from + here, and it is one that doesn't count. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no family, and the man who owns it is so poor. It is a big + place, but it is falling to pieces as this is. + </p> + <p> + “What is it called?” + </p> + <p> + “Mount Dunstan. The present earl only succeeded about three years + ago. Nigel doesn't know him. He is queer and not liked. He has been away.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “No one knows. To Australia or somewhere. He has odd ideas. The + Mount Dunstans have been awful people for two generations. This man's + father was almost mad with wickedness. So was the elder son. This is a + second son, and he came into nothing but debt. Perhaps he feels the + disgrace and it makes him rude and ill-tempered. His father and elder + brother had been in such scandals that people did not invite them. + </p> + <p> + “Do they invite this man?” + </p> + <p> + “No. He probably would not go to their houses if they did. And he + went away soon after he came into the title.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the place beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a fine deer park, and the gardens were wonderful a long + time ago. The house is worth looking at—outside.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go and look at it,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “The carriage is out of order. There is only Ughtred's cart.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a good walker,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Are you? It would be twelve miles—there and back. When I was + in New York people didn't walk much, particularly girls.” + </p> + <p> + “They do now,” Betty answered. “They have learned to do + it in England. They live out of doors and play games. They have grown + athletic and tall.” + </p> + <p> + As they talked the nightingales sang, sometimes near, sometimes in the + distance, and scents of dewy grass and leaves and earth were wafted + towards them. Sometimes they strolled up and down the terrace, sometimes + they paused and leaned against the stone balustrade. Betty allowed Rosy to + talk as she chose. She herself asked no obviously leading questions and + passed over trying moments with lightness. Her desire was to place herself + in a position where she might hear the things which would aid her to draw + conclusions. Lady Anstruthers gradually grew less nervous and afraid of + her subjects. In the wonder of the luxury of talking to someone who + listened with sympathy, she once or twice almost forgot herself and made + revelations she had not intended to make. She had often the manner of a + person who was afraid of being overheard; sometimes, even when she was + making speeches quite simple in themselves, her voice dropped and she + glanced furtively aside as if there were chances that something she + dreaded might step out of the shadow. + </p> + <p> + When they went upstairs together and parted for the night, the clinging of + Rosy's embrace was for a moment almost convulsive. But she tried to laugh + off its suggestion of intensity. + </p> + <p> + “I held you tight so that I could feel sure that you were real and + would not melt away,” she said. “I hope you will be here in + the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall never really go quite away again, now I have come,” + Betty answered. “It is not only your house I have come into. I have + come back into your life.” + </p> + <p> + After she had entered her room and locked the door she sat down and wrote + a letter to her father. It was a long letter, but a clear one. She painted + a definite and detailed picture and made distinct her chief point. + </p> + <p> + “She is afraid of me,” she wrote. “That is the first and + worst obstacle. She is actually afraid that I will do something which will + only add to her trouble. She has lived under dominion so long that she has + forgotten that there are people who have no reason for fear. Her old life + seems nothing but a dream. The first thing I must teach her is that I am + to be trusted not to do futile things, and that she need neither be afraid + of nor for me.” + </p> + <p> + After writing these sentences she found herself leaving her desk and + walking up and down the room to relieve herself. She could not sit still, + because suddenly the blood ran fast and hot through her veins. She put her + hands against her cheeks and laughed a little, low laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I feel violent,” she said. “I feel violent and I must + get over it. This is rage. Rage is worth nothing.” + </p> + <p> + It was rage—the rage of splendid hot blood which surged in answer to + leaping hot thoughts. There would have been a sort of luxury in giving way + to the sway of it. But the self-indulgence would have been no aid to + future action. Rage was worth nothing. She said it as the first Reuben + Vanderpoel might have said of a useless but glittering weapon. “This + gun is worth nothing,” and cast it aside. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + IN THE GARDENS + </h3> + <p> + She came out upon the stone terrace again rather early in the morning. She + wanted to wander about in the first freshness of the day, which was always + an uplifting thing to her. She wanted to see the dew on the grass and on + the ragged flower borders and to hear the tender, broken fluting of birds + in the trees. One cuckoo was calling to another in the park, and she + stopped and listened intently. Until yesterday she had never heard a + cuckoo call, and its hollow mellowness gave her delight. It meant the + spring in England, and nowhere else. + </p> + <p> + There was space enough to ramble about in the gardens. Paths and beds were + alike overgrown with weeds, but some strong, early-blooming things were + fighting for life, refusing to be strangled. Against the beautiful old red + walls, over which age had stolen with a wonderful grey bloom, venerable + fruit trees were spread and nailed, and here and there showed bloom, + clumps of low-growing things sturdily advanced their yellowness or + whiteness, as if defying neglect. In one place a wall slanted and + threatened to fall, bearing its nectarine trees with it; in another there + was a gap so evidently not of to-day that the heap of its masonry upon the + border bed was already covered with greenery, and the roots of the fruit + tree it had supported had sent up strong, insistent shoots. + </p> + <p> + She passed down broad paths and narrow ones, sometimes walking under + trees, sometimes pushing her way between encroaching shrubs; she descended + delightful mossy and broken steps and came upon dilapidated urns, in which + weeds grew instead of flowers, and over which rampant but lovely, savage + little creepers clambered and clung. + </p> + <p> + In one of the walled kitchen gardens she came upon an elderly gardener at + work. At the sound of her approaching steps he glanced round and then + stood up, touching his forelock in respectful but startled salute. He was + so plainly amazed at the sight of her that she explained herself. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” she said. “I am her ladyship's sister, + Miss Vanderpoel. I came yesterday evening. I am looking over your gardens.” + </p> + <p> + He touched his forehead again and looked round him. His manner was not + cheerful. He cast a troubled eye about him. + </p> + <p> + “They're not much to see, miss,” he said. “They'd ought + to be, but they're not. Growing things has to be fed and took care of. A + man and a boy can't do it—nor yet four or five of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “How many ought there to be?” Betty inquired, with + business-like directness. It was not only the dew on the grass she had + come out to see. + </p> + <p> + “If there was eight or ten of us we might put it in order and keep + it that way. It's a big place, miss.” + </p> + <p> + Betty looked about her as he had done, but with a less discouraged eye. + </p> + <p> + “It is a beautiful place, as well as a large one,” she said. + “I can see that there ought to be more workers.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no one,” said the gardener, “as has as many + enemies as a gardener, an' as many things to fight. There's grubs an' + there's greenfly, an' there's drout', an' wet an' cold, an' mildew, an' + there's what the soil wants and starves without, an' if you haven't got it + nor yet hands an' feet an' tools enough, how's things to feed, an' fight + an' live—let alone bloom an' bear?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know much about gardens,” said Miss Vanderpoel, + “but I can understand that.” + </p> + <p> + The scent of fresh bedewed things was in the air. It was true that she had + not known much about gardens, but here standing in the midst of one she + began to awaken to a new, practical interest. A creature of initiative + could not let such a place as this alone. It was beauty being slowly + slain. One could not pass it by and do nothing. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” she asked + </p> + <p> + “Kedgers, miss. I've only been here about a twelve-month. I was took + on because I'm getting on in years an' can't ask much wage.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you spare time to take me through the gardens and show me + things?” + </p> + <p> + Yes, he could do it. In truth, he privately welcomed an opportunity + offering a prospect of excitement so novel. He had shown more flourishing + gardens to other young ladies in his past years of service, but young + ladies did not come to Stornham, and that one having, with such + extraordinary unexpectedness arrived, should want to look over the + desolation of these, was curious enough to rouse anyone to a sense of a + break in accustomed monotony. The young lady herself mystified him by her + difference from such others as he had seen. What the man in the shabby + livery had felt, he felt also, and added to this was a sense of the + practicalness of the questions she asked and the interest she showed and a + way she had of seeming singularly to suggest by the look in her eyes and + the tone of her voice that nothing was necessarily without remedy. When + her ladyship walked through the place and looked at things, a pale + resignation expressed itself in the very droop of her figure. When this + one walked through the tumbled-down grape-houses, potting-sheds and + conservatories, she saw where glass was broken, where benches had fallen + and where roofs sagged and leaked. She inquired about the heating + apparatus and asked that she might see it. She asked about the village and + its resources, about labourers and their wages. + </p> + <p> + “As if,” commented Kedgers mentally, “she was what Sir + Nigel is—leastways what he'd ought to be an' ain't.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way back to the fallen wall and stood and looked at it. + </p> + <p> + “It's a beautiful old wall,” she said. “It should be + rebuilt with the old brick. New would spoil it.” + </p> + <p> + “Some of this is broken and crumbled away,” said Kedgers, + picking up a piece to show it to her. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps old brick could be bought somewhere,” replied the + young lady speculatively. “One ought to be able to buy old brick in + England, if one is willing to pay for it.” + </p> + <p> + Kedgers scratched his head and gazed at her in respectful wonder which was + almost trouble. Who was going to pay for things, and who was going to look + for things which were not on the spot? Enterprise like this was not to be + explained. + </p> + <p> + When she left him he stood and watched her upright figure disappear + through the ivy-grown door of the kitchen gardens with a disturbed but + elated expression on his countenance. He did not know why he felt elated, + but he was conscious of elation. Something new had walked into the place. + He stopped his work and grinned and scratched his head several times after + he went back to his pottering among the cabbage plants. + </p> + <p> + “My word,” he muttered. “She's a fine, straight young + woman. If she was her ladyship things 'ud be different. Sir Nigel 'ud be + different, too—or there'd be some fine upsets.” + </p> + <p> + There was a huge stable yard, and Betty passed through that on her way + back. The door of the carriage house was open and she saw two or three + tumbled-down vehicles. One was a landau with a wheel off, one was a + shabby, old-fashioned, low phaeton. She caught sight of a patently + venerable cob in one of the stables. The stalls near him were empty. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that is all they have to depend upon,” she thought. + “And the stables are like the gardens.” + </p> + <p> + She found Lady Anstruthers and Ughtred waiting for her upon the terrace, + each of them regarding her with an expression suggestive of repressed + curiosity as she approached. Lady Anstruthers flushed a little and went to + meet her with an eager kiss. + </p> + <p> + “You look like—I don't know quite what you look like, Betty!” + she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The girl's dimple deepened and her eyes said smiling things. + </p> + <p> + “It is the morning—and your gardens,” she answered. + “I have been round your gardens.” + </p> + <p> + “They were beautiful once, I suppose,” said Rosy + deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + “They are beautiful now. There is nothing like them in America at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't remember any gardens in America,” Lady Anstruthers + owned reluctantly, “but everything seemed so cheerful and well cared + for and—and new. Don't laugh, Betty. I have begun to like new + things. You would if you had watched old ones tumbling to pieces for + twelve years.” + </p> + <p> + “They ought not to be allowed to tumble to pieces,” said + Betty. She added her next words with simple directness. She could only + discover how any advancing steps would be taken by taking them. “Why + do you allow them to do it?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers looked away, but as she looked her eyes passed Ughtred's. + </p> + <p> + “I!” she said. “There are so many other things to do. It + would cost so much—such an enormity to keep it all in order.” + </p> + <p> + “But it ought to be done—for Ughtred's sake.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” faltered Rosy, “but I can't help it.” + </p> + <p> + “You can,” answered Betty, and she put her arm round her as + they turned to enter the house. “When you have become more used to + me and my driving American ways I will show you how.” + </p> + <p> + The lightness with which she said it had an odd effect on Lady + Anstruthers. Such casual readiness was so full of the suggestion of + unheard of possibilities that it was a kind of shock. + </p> + <p> + “I have been twelve years in getting un-used to you—I feel as + if it would take twelve years more to get used again,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “It won't take twelve weeks,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE FIRST MAN + </h3> + <p> + The mystery of the apparently occult methods of communication among the + natives of India, between whom, it is said, news flies by means too + strange and subtle to be humanly explainable, is no more difficult a + problem to solve than that of the lightning rapidity with which a + knowledge of the transpiring of any new local event darts through the + slowest, and, as far as outward signs go, the least communicative English + village slumbering drowsily among its pastures and trees. + </p> + <p> + That which the Hall or Manor House believed last night, known only to the + four walls of its drawing-room, is discussed over the cottage breakfast + tables as though presented in detail through the columns of the Morning + Post. The vicarage, the smithy, the post office, the little provision + shop, are instantaneously informed as by magic of such incidents of + interest as occur, and are prepared to assist vicariously at any future + developments. Through what agency information is given no one can tell, + and, indeed, the agency is of small moment. Facts of interest are perhaps + like flights of swallows and dart chattering from one red roof to another, + proclaiming themselves aloud. Nothing is so true as that in such villages + they are the property and innocent playthings of man, woman, and child, + providing conversation and drama otherwise likely to be lacked. + </p> + <p> + When Miss Vanderpoel walked through Stornham village street she became + aware that she was an exciting object of interest. Faces appeared at + cottage windows, women sauntered to doors, men in the taproom of the Clock + Inn left beer mugs to cast an eye on her; children pushed open gates and + stared as they bobbed their curtsies; the young woman who kept the shop + left her counter and came out upon her door step to pick up her straying + baby and glance over its shoulder at the face with the red mouth, and the + mass of black hair rolled upward under a rough blue straw hat. Everyone + knew who this exotic-looking young lady was. She had arrived yesterday + from London, and a week ago by means of a ship from far-away America, from + the country in connection with which the rural mind curiously mixed up + large wages, great fortunes and Indians. “Gaarge” Lunsden, + having spent five years of his youth labouring heavily for sixteen + shillings a week, had gone to “Meriker” and had earned there + eight shillings a day. This was a well-known and much-talked over fact, + and had elevated the western continent to a position of trust and + importance it had seriously lacked before the emigration of Lunsden. A + place where a man could earn eight shillings a day inspired interest as + well as confidence. When Sir Nigel's wife had arrived twelve years ago as + the new Lady Anstruthers, the story that she herself “had money” + had been verified by her fine clothes and her way of handing out + sovereigns in cases where the rest of the gentry, if they gave at all, + would have bestowed tea and flannel or shillings. There had been for a few + months a period of unheard of well-being in Stornham village; everyone + remembered the hundred pounds the bride had given to poor Wilson when his + place had burned down, but the village had of course learned, by its + occult means, that Sir Nigel and the Dowager had been angry and that there + had been a quarrel. Afterwards her ladyship had been dangerously ill, the + baby had been born a hunchback, and a year had passed before its mother + had been seen again. Since then she had been a changed creature; she had + lost her looks and seemed to care for nothing but the child. Stornham + village saw next to nothing of her, and it certainly was not she who had + the dispensing of her fortune. Rumour said Sir Nigel lived high in London + and foreign parts, but there was no high living at the Court. Her + ladyship's family had never been near her, and belief in them and their + wealth almost ceased to exist. If they were rich, Stornham felt that it + was their business to mend roofs and windows and not allow chimneys and + kitchen boilers to fall into ruin, the simple, leading article of faith + being that even American money belonged properly to England. + </p> + <p> + As Miss Vanderpoel walked at a light, swinging pace through the one + village street the gazers felt with Kedgers that something new was passing + and stirring the atmosphere. She looked straight, and with a friendliness + somehow dominating, at the curious women; her handsome eyes met those of + the men in a human questioning; she smiled and nodded to the bobbing + children. One of these, young enough to be uncertain on its feet, in + running to join some others stumbled and fell on the path before her. + Opening its mouth in the inevitable resultant roar, it was shocked almost + into silence by the tall young lady stooping at once, picking it up, and + cheerfully dusting its pinafore. + </p> + <p> + “Don't cry,” she said; “you are not hurt, you know.” + </p> + <p> + The deep dimple near her mouth showed itself, and the laugh in her eyes + was so reassuring that the penny she put into the grubby hand was less + productive of effect than her mere self. She walked on, leaving the group + staring after her breathless, because of a sense of having met with a + wonderful adventure. The grand young lady with the black hair and the blue + hat and tall, straight body was the adventure. She left the same sense of + event with the village itself. They talked of her all day over their + garden palings, on their doorsteps, in the street; of her looks, of her + height, of the black rim of lashes round her eyes, of the chance that she + might be rich and ready to give half-crowns and sovereigns, of the “Meriker” + she had come from, and above all of the reason for her coming. + </p> + <p> + Betty swung with the light, firm step of a good walker out on to the + highway. To walk upon the fine, smooth old Roman road was a pleasure in + itself, but she soon struck away from it and went through lanes and + by-ways, following sign-posts because she knew where she was going. Her + walk was to take her to Mount Dunstan and home again by another road. In + walking, an objective point forms an interest, and what she had heard of + the estate from Rosalie was a vague reason for her caring to see it. It + was another place like Stornham, once dignified and nobly representative + of fine things, now losing their meanings and values. Values and meanings, + other than mere signs of wealth and power, there had been. Centuries ago + strong creatures had planned and built it for such reasons as strength has + for its planning and building. In Bettina Vanderpoel's imagination the + First Man held powerful and moving sway. It was he whom she always saw. In + history, as a child at school, she had understood and drawn close to him. + There was always a First Man behind all that one saw or was told, one who + was the fighter, the human thing who snatched weapons and tools from + stones and trees and wielded them in the carrying out of the thought which + was his possession and his strength. He was the God made human; others + waited, without knowledge of their waiting, for the signal he gave. A man + like others—with man's body, hands, and limbs, and eyes—the + moving of a whole world was subtly altered by his birth. One could not + always trace him, but with stone axe and spear point he had won savage + lands in savage ways, and so ruled them that, leaving them to other hands, + their march towards less savage life could not stay itself, but must sweep + on; others of his kind, striking rude harps, had so sung that the loud + clearness of their wild songs had rung through the ages, and echo still in + strains which are theirs, though voices of to-day repeat the note of them. + The First Man, a Briton stained with woad and hung with skins, had tilled + the luscious greenness of the lands richly rolling now within hedge + boundaries. The square church towers rose, holding their slender corner + spires above the trees, as a result of the First Man, Norman William. The + thought which held its place, the work which did not pass away, had paid + its First Man wages; but beauties crumbling, homes falling to waste, were + bitter things. The First Man, who, having won his splendid acres, had + built his home upon them and reared his young and passed his possession on + with a proud heart, seemed but ill treated. Through centuries the home had + enriched itself, its acres had borne harvests, its trees had grown and + spread huge branches, full lives had been lived within the embrace of the + massive walls, there had been loves and lives and marriages and births, + the breathings of them made warm and full the very air. To Betty it seemed + that the land itself would have worn another face if it had not been + trodden by so many springing feet, if so many harvests had not waved above + it, if so many eyes had not looked upon and loved it. + </p> + <p> + She passed through variations of the rural loveliness she had seen on her + way from the station to the Court, and felt them grow in beauty as she saw + them again. She came at last to a village somewhat larger than Stornham + and marked by the signs of the lack of money-spending care which Stornham + showed. Just beyond its limits a big park gate opened on to an avenue of + massive trees. She stopped and looked down it, but could see nothing but + its curves and, under the branches, glimpses of a spacious sweep of park + with other trees standing in groups or alone in the sward. The avenue was + unswept and untended, and here and there boughs broken off by wind. + </p> + <p> + Storms lay upon it. She turned to the road again and followed it, because + it enclosed the park and she wanted to see more of its evident beauty. It + was very beautiful. As she walked on she saw it rolled into woods and + deeps filled with bracken; she saw stretches of hillocky, fine-grassed + rabbit warren, and hollows holding shadowy pools; she caught the gleam of + a lake with swans sailing slowly upon it with curved necks; there were + wonderful lights and wonderful shadows, and brooding stillness, which made + her footfall upon the road a too material thing. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she heard a stirring in the bracken a yard or two away from her. + Something was moving slowly among the waving masses of huge fronds and + caused them to sway to and fro. It was an antlered stag who rose from his + bed in the midst of them, and with majestic deliberation got upon his feet + and stood gazing at her with a calmness of pose so splendid, and a liquid + darkness and lustre of eye so stilly and fearlessly beautiful, that she + caught her breath. He simply gazed as her as a great king might gaze at an + intruder, scarcely deigning wonder. + </p> + <p> + As she had passed on her way, Betty had seen that the enclosing park + palings were decaying, covered with lichen and falling at intervals. It + had even passed through her mind that here was one of the demands for + expenditure on a large estate, which limited resources could not confront + with composure. The deer fence itself, a thing of wire ten feet high, to + form an obstacle to leaps, she had marked to be in such condition as to + threaten to become shortly a useless thing. Until this moment she had seen + no deer, but looking beyond the stag and across the sward she now saw + groups near each other, stags cropping or looking towards her with lifted + heads, does at a respectful but affectionate distance from them, some + caring for their fawns. The stag who had risen near her had merely walked + through a gap in the boundary and now stood free to go where he would. + </p> + <p> + “He will get away,” said Betty, knitting her black brows. Ah! + what a shame! + </p> + <p> + Even with the best intentions one could not give chase to a stag. She + looked up and down the road, but no one was within sight. Her brows + continued to knit themselves and her eyes ranged over the park itself in + the hope that some labourer on the estate, some woodman or game-keeper, + might be about. + </p> + <p> + “It is no affair of mine,” she said, “but it would be + too bad to let him get away, though what happens to stray stags one + doesn't exactly know.” + </p> + <p> + As she said it she caught sight of someone, a man in leggings and shabby + clothes and with a gun over his shoulder, evidently an under keeper. He + was a big, rather rough-looking fellow, but as he lurched out into the + open from a wood Betty saw that she could reach him if she passed through + a narrow gate a few yards away and walked quickly. + </p> + <p> + He was slouching along, his head drooping and his broad shoulders + expressing the definite antipodes of good spirits. Betty studied his back + as she strode after him, her conclusion being that he was perhaps not a + good-humoured man to approach at any time, and that this was by ill luck + one of his less fortunate hours. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, if you please,” her clear, mellow voice flung + out after him when she was within hearing distance. “I want to speak + to you, keeper.” + </p> + <p> + He turned with an air of far from pleased surprise. The afternoon sun was + in his eyes and made him scowl. For a moment he did not see distinctly who + was approaching him, but he had at once recognised a certain cool tone of + command in the voice whose suddenness had roused him from a black mood. A + few steps brought them to close quarters, and when he found himself + looking into the eyes of his pursuer he made a movement as if to lift his + cap, then checking himself, touched it, keeper fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said shortly. “Miss Vanderpoel! Beg pardon.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina stood still a second. She had her surprise also. Here was the + unexpected again. The under keeper was the red-haired second-class + passenger of the Meridiana. + </p> + <p> + He did not look pleased to see her, and the suddenness of his appearance + excluded the possibility of her realising that upon the whole she was at + least not displeased to see him. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do?” she said, feeling the remark fantastically + conventional, but not being inspired by any alternative. “I came to + tell you that one of the stags has got through a gap in the fence.” + </p> + <p> + “Damn!” she heard him say under his breath. Aloud he said, + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a splendid creature,” she said. “I did not know + what to do. I was glad to see a keeper coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said again, and strode towards the place where + the stag still stood gazing up the road, as if reflecting as to whether it + allured him or not. + </p> + <p> + Betty walked back more slowly, watching him with interest. She wondered + what he would find it necessary to do. She heard him begin a low, + flute-like whistling, and then saw the antlered head turn towards him. The + woodland creature moved, but it was in his direction. It had without doubt + answered his call before and knew its meaning to be friendly. It went + towards him, stretching out a tender sniffing nose, and he put his hand in + the pocket of his rough coat and gave it something to eat. Afterwards he + went to the gap in the fence and drew the wires together, fastening them + with other wire, which he also took out of the coat pocket. + </p> + <p> + “He is not afraid of making himself useful,” thought Betty. + “And the animals know him. He is not as bad as he looks.” + </p> + <p> + She lingered a moment watching him, and then walked towards the gate + through which she had entered. He glanced up as she neared him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see your carriage,” he said. “Your man is + probably round the trees.” + </p> + <p> + “I walked,” answered Betty. “I had heard of this place + and wanted to see it.” + </p> + <p> + He stood up, putting his wire back into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “There is not much to be seen from the road,” he said. “Would + you like to see more of it?” + </p> + <p> + His manner was civil enough, but not the correct one for a servant. He did + not say “miss” or touch his cap in making the suggestion. + Betty hesitated a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Is the family at home?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “There is no family but—his lordship. He is off the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he object to trespassers?” + </p> + <p> + “Not if they are respectable and take no liberties.” + </p> + <p> + “I am respectable, and I shall not take liberties,” said Miss + Vanderpoel, with a touch of hauteur. The truth was that she had spent a + sufficient number of years on the Continent to have become familiar with + conventions which led her not to approve wholly of his bearing. Perhaps he + had lived long enough in America to forget such conventions and to lack + something which centuries of custom had decided should belong to his + class. A certain suggestion of rough force in the man rather attracted + her, and her slight distaste for his manner arose from the realisation + that a gentleman's servant who did not address his superiors as was + required by custom was not doing his work in a finished way. In his place + she knew her own demeanour would have been finished. + </p> + <p> + “If you are sure that Lord Mount Dunstan would not object to my + walking about, I should like very much to see the gardens and the house,” + she said. “If you show them to me, shall I be interfering with your + duties?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered, and then for the first time rather glumly + added, “miss.” + </p> + <p> + “I am interested,” she said, as they crossed the grass + together, “because places like this are quite new to me. I have + never been in England before.” + </p> + <p> + “There are not many places like this,” he answered, “not + many as old and fine, and not many as nearly gone to ruin. Even Stornham + is not quite as far gone.” + </p> + <p> + “It is far gone,” said Miss Vanderpoel. “I am staying + there—with my sister, Lady Anstruthers.” + </p> + <p> + “Beg pardon—miss,” he said. This time he touched his cap + in apology. + </p> + <p> + Enormous as the gulf between their positions was, he knew that he had + offered to take her over the place because he was in a sense glad to see + her again. Why he was glad he did not profess to know or even to ask + himself. Coarsely speaking, it might be because she was one of the + handsomest young women he had ever chanced to meet with, and while her + youth was apparent in the rich red of her mouth, the mass of her thick, + soft hair and the splendid blue of her eyes, there spoke in every line of + face and pose something intensely more interesting and compelling than + girlhood. Also, since the night they had come together on the ship's deck + for an appalling moment, he had liked her better and rebelled less against + the unnatural wealth she represented. He led her first to the wood from + which she had seen him emerge. + </p> + <p> + “I will show you this first,” he explained. “Keep your + eyes on the ground until I tell you to raise them.” + </p> + <p> + Odd as this was, she obeyed, and her lowered glance showed her that she + was being guided along a narrow path between trees. The light was mellow + golden-green, and birds were singing in the boughs above her. In a few + minutes he stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Now look up,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She uttered an exclamation when she did so. She was in a fairy dell thick + with ferns, and at beautiful distances from each other incredibly splendid + oaks spread and almost trailed their lovely giant branches. The glow + shining through and between them, the shadows beneath them, their great + boles and moss-covered roots, and the stately, mellow distances revealed + under their branches, the ancient wildness and richness, which meant, + after all, centuries of cultivation, made a picture in this exact, perfect + moment of ripening afternoon sun of an almost unbelievable beauty. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing lovelier,” he said in a low voice, “in + all England.” + </p> + <p> + Bettina turned to look at him, because his tone was a curious one for a + man like himself. He was standing resting on his gun and taking in the + loveliness with a strange look in his rugged face. + </p> + <p> + “You—you love it!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” but with a suggestion of stubborn reluctance in the + admission. + </p> + <p> + She was rather moved. + </p> + <p> + “Have you been keeper here long?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No—only a few years. But I have known the place all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Lord Mount Dunstan love it?” + </p> + <p> + “In his way—yes.” + </p> + <p> + He was plainly not disposed to talk of his master. He was perhaps not on + particularly good terms with him. He led her away and volunteered no + further information. He was, upon the whole, uncommunicative. He did not + once refer to the circumstance of their having met before. It was plain + that he had no intention of presuming upon the fact that he, as a + second-class passenger on a ship, had once been forced by accident across + the barriers between himself and the saloon deck. He was stubbornly + resolved to keep his place; so stubbornly that Bettina felt that to broach + the subject herself would verge upon offence. + </p> + <p> + But the golden ways through which he led her made the afternoon one she + knew she should never forget. They wandered through moss walks and alleys, + through tangled shrubberies bursting into bloom, beneath avenues of + blossoming horse-chestnuts and scented limes, between thickets of budding + red and white may, and jungles of neglected rhododendrons; through sunken + gardens and walled ones, past terraces with broken balustrades of stone, + and fallen Floras and Dianas, past moss-grown fountains splashing in + lovely corners. Arches, overgrown with yet unblooming roses, crumbled in + their time stained beauty. Stillness brooded over it all, and they met no + one. They scarcely broke the silence themselves. The man led the way as + one who knew it by heart, and Bettina followed, not caring for speech + herself, because the stillness seemed to add a spell of enchantment. What + could one say, to a stranger, of such beauty so lost and given over to + ruin and decay. + </p> + <p> + “But, oh!” she murmured once, standing still, with indrawn + breath, “if it were mine!—if it were mine!” And she said + the thing forgetting that her guide was a living creature and stood near. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards her memories of it all seemed to her like the memories of a + dream. The lack of speech between herself and the man who led her, his + often averted face, her own sense of the desertedness of each beauteous + spot she passed through, the mossy paths which gave back no sound of + footfalls as they walked, suggested, one and all, unreality. When at last + they passed through a door half hidden in an ivied wall, and crossing a + grassed bowling green, mounted a short flight of broken steps which led + them to a point through which they saw the house through a break in the + trees, this last was the final touch of all. It was a great place, stately + in its masses of grey stone to which thick ivy clung. To Bettina it seemed + that a hundred windows stared at her with closed, blind eyes. All were + shuttered but two or three on the lower floors. Not one showed signs of + life. The silent stone thing stood sightless among all of which it was + dead master—rolling acres, great trees, lost gardens and deserted + groves. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she sighed, “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Her companion stood still and leaned upon his gun again, looking as he had + looked before. + </p> + <p> + “Some of it,” he said, “was here before the Conquest. It + belonged to Mount Dunstans then.” + </p> + <p> + “And only one of them is left,” she cried, “and it is + like this!” + </p> + <p> + “They have been a bad lot, the last hundred years,” was the + surly liberty of speech he took, “a bad lot.” + </p> + <p> + It was not his place to speak in such manner of those of his master's + house, and it was not the part of Miss Vanderpoel to encourage him by + response. She remained silent, standing perhaps a trifle more lightly + erect as she gazed at the rows of blind windows in silence. + </p> + <p> + Neither of them uttered a word for some time, but at length Bettina roused + herself. She had a six-mile walk before her and must go. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged to you,” she began, and then paused a + second. A curious hesitance came upon her, though she knew that under + ordinary circumstances such hesitation would have been totally out of + place. She had occupied the man's time for an hour or more, he was of the + working class, and one must not be guilty of the error of imagining that a + man who has work to do can justly spend his time in one's service for the + mere pleasure of it. She knew what custom demanded. Why should she + hesitate before this man, with his not too courteous, surly face. She felt + slightly irritated by her own unpractical embarrassment as she put her + hand into the small, latched bag at her belt. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged, keeper,” she said. “You have + given me a great deal of your time. You know the place so well that it has + been a pleasure to be taken about by you. I have never seen anything so + beautiful—and so sad. Thank you—thank you.” And she put + a goldpiece in his palm. + </p> + <p> + His fingers closed over it quietly. Why it was to her great relief she did + not know—because something in the simple act annoyed her, even while + she congratulated herself that her hesitance had been absurd. The next + moment she wondered if it could be possible that he had expected a larger + fee. He opened his hand and looked at the money with a grim steadiness. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, miss,” he said, and touched his cap in the proper + manner. + </p> + <p> + He did not look gracious or grateful, but he began to put it in a small + pocket in the breast of his worn corduroy shooting jacket. Suddenly he + stopped, as if with abrupt resolve. He handed the coin back without any + change of his glum look. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it all,” he said, “I can't take this, you know. I + suppose I ought to have told you. It would have been less awkward for us + both. I am that unfortunate beggar, Mount Dunstan, myself.” + </p> + <p> + A pause was inevitable. It was a rather long one. After it, Betty took + back her half-sovereign and returned it to her bag, but she pleased a + certain perversity in him by looking more annoyed than confused. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said. “You ought to have told me, Lord Mount + Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + He slightly shrugged his big shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn't you take me for a keeper? You crossed the Atlantic + with a fourth-rate looking fellow separated from you by barriers of wood + and iron. You came upon him tramping over a nobleman's estate in shabby + corduroys and gaiters, with a gun over his shoulder and a scowl on his + ugly face. Why should you leap to the conclusion that he is the belted + Earl himself? There is no cause for embarrassment.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not embarrassed,” said Bettina. + </p> + <p> + “That is what I like,” gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “I am pleased,” in her mellowest velvet voice, “that you + like it.” + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met with a singular directness of gaze. Between them a spark + passed which was not afterwards to be extinguished, though neither of them + knew the moment of its kindling, and Mount Dunstan slightly frowned. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon,” he said. “You are quite right. It had a + deucedly patronising sound.” + </p> + <p> + As he stood before her Betty was given her opportunity to see him as she + had not seen him before, to confront the sum total of his physique. His + red-brown eyes looked out from rather fine heavy brows, his features were + strong and clear, though ruggedly cut, his build showed weight of bone, + not of flesh, and his limbs were big and long. He would have wielded a + battle-axe with power in centuries in which men hewed their way with them. + Also it occurred to her he would have looked well in a coat of mail. He + did not look ill in his corduroys and gaiters. + </p> + <p> + “I am a self-absorbed beggar,” he went on. “I had been + slouching about the place, almost driven mad by my thoughts, and when I + saw you took me for a servant my fancy was for letting the thing go on. If + I had been a rich man instead of a pauper I would have kept your + half-sovereign.” + </p> + <p> + “I should not have enjoyed that when I found out the truth,” + said Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + “No, I suppose you wouldn't. But I should not have cared.” + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her straightly and summing her up as she had summed him + up. A man and young, he did not miss a line or a tint of her chin or + cheek, shoulder, or brow, or dense, lifted hair. He had already, even in + his guise of keeper, noticed one thing, which was that while at times her + eyes were the blue of steel, sometimes they melted to the colour of + bluebells under water. They had been of this last hue when she had stood + in the sunken garden, forgetting him and crying low: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if it were mine! If it were mine!” + </p> + <p> + He did not like American women with millions, but while he would not have + said that he liked her, he did not wish her yet to move away. And she, + too, did not wish, just yet, to move away. There was something dramatic + and absorbing in the situation. She looked over the softly stirring grass + and saw the sunshine was deepening its gold and the shadows were growing + long. It was not a habit of hers to ask questions, but she asked one. + </p> + <p> + “Did you not like America?” was what she said. + </p> + <p> + “Hated it! Hated it! I went there lured by a belief that a man like + myself, with muscle and will, even without experience, could make a + fortune out of small capital on a sheep ranch. Wind and weather and + disease played the devil with me. I lost the little I had and came back to + begin over again—on nothing—here!” And he waved his hand + over the park with its sward and coppice and bracken and the deer cropping + in the late afternoon gold. + </p> + <p> + “To begin what again?” said Betty. It was an extraordinary + enough thing, seen in the light of conventions, that they should stand and + talk like this. But the spark had kindled between eye and eye, and because + of it they suddenly had forgotten that they were strangers. + </p> + <p> + “You are an American, so it may not seem as mad to you as it would + to others. To begin to build up again, in one man's life, what has taken + centuries to grow—and fall into this.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a splendid thing to do,” she said slowly, and as + she said it her eyes took on their colour of bluebells, because what she + had seen had moved her. She had not looked at him, but at the cropping + deer as she spoke, but at her next sentence she turned to him again. + </p> + <p> + “Where should you begin?” she asked, and in saying it thought + of Stornham. + </p> + <p> + He laughed shortly. + </p> + <p> + “That is American enough,” he said. “Your people have + not finished their beginnings yet and live in the spirit of them. I tell + you of a wild fancy, and you accept it as a possibility and turn on me + with, 'Where should you begin?'” + </p> + <p> + “That is one way of beginning,” said Bettina. “In fact, + it is the only way.” + </p> + <p> + He did not tell her that he liked that, but he knew that he did like it + and that her mere words touched him like a spur. It was, of course, her + lifelong breathing of the atmosphere of millions which made for this + fashion of moving at once in the direction of obstacles presenting to the + rest of the world barriers seemingly insurmountable. And yet there was + something else in it, some quality of nature which did not alone suggest + the omnipotence of wealth, but another thing which might be even stronger + and therefore carried conviction. He who had raged and clenched his hands + in the face of his knowledge of the aspect his dream would have presented + if he had revealed it to the ordinary practical mind, felt that a point of + view like this was good for him. There was in it stimulus for a fleeting + moment at least. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good idea,” he answered. “Where should you + begin?” + </p> + <p> + She replied quite seriously, though he could have imagined some girls + rather simpering over the question as a casual joke. + </p> + <p> + “One would begin at the fences,” she said. “Don't you + think so?” + </p> + <p> + “That is practical.” + </p> + <p> + “That is where I shall begin at Stornham,” reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “You are going to begin at Stornham?” + </p> + <p> + “How could one help it? It is not as large or as splendid as this + has been, but it is like it in a way. And it will belong to my sister's + son. No, I could not help it.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you could not.” There was a hint of wholly + unconscious resentment in his tone. He was thinking that the effect + produced by their boundless wealth was to make these people feel as a race + of giants might—even their women unknowingly revealed it. + </p> + <p> + “No, I could not,” was her reply. “I suppose I am on the + whole a sort of commercial working person. I have no doubt it is + commercial, that instinct which makes one resent seeing things lose their + value.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall you begin it for that reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Partly for that one—partly for another.” She held out + her hand to him. “Look at the length of the shadows. I must go. + Thank you, Lord Mount Dunstan, for showing me the place, and thank you for + undeceiving me.” + </p> + <p> + He held the side gate open for her and lifted his cap as she passed + through. He admitted to himself, with some reluctance, that he was not + content that she should go even yet, but, of course, she must go. There + passed through his mind a remote wonder why he had suddenly unbosomed + himself to her in a way so extraordinarily unlike himself. It was, he + thought next, because as he had taken her about from one place to another + he had known that she had seen in things what he had seen in them so long—the + melancholy loneliness, the significance of it, the lost hopes that lay + behind it, the touching pain of the stateliness wrecked. She had shown it + in the way in which she tenderly looked from side to side, in the very + lightness of her footfall, in the bluebell softening of her eyes. Oh, yes, + she had understood and cared, American as she was! She had felt it all, + even with her hideous background of Fifth Avenue behind her. + </p> + <p> + When he had spoken it had been in involuntary response to an emotion in + herself. + </p> + <p> + So he stood, thinking, as he for some time watched her walking up the + sunset-glowing road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE PARTICULAR INCIDENT + </h3> + <p> + Betty Vanderpoel's walk back to Stornham did not, long though it was, give + her time to follow to its end the thread of her thoughts. Mentally she + walked again with her uncommunicative guide, through woodpaths and + gardens, and stood gazing at the great blind-faced house. She had not + given the man more than an occasional glance until he had told her his + name. She had been too much absorbed, too much moved, by what she had been + seeing. She wondered, if she had been more aware of him, whether his face + would have revealed a great deal. She believed it would not. He had made + himself outwardly stolid. But the thing must have been bitter. To him the + whole story of the splendid past was familiar even if through his own life + he had looked on only at gradual decay. There must be stories enough of + men and women who had lived in the place, of what they had done, of how + they had loved, of what they had counted for in their country's wars and + peacemakings, great functions and law-building. To be able to look back + through centuries and know of one's blood that sometimes it had been shed + in the doing of great deeds, must be a thing to remember. To realise that + the courage and honour had been lost in ignoble modern vices, which no + sense of dignity and reverence for race and name had restrained—must + be bitter—bitter! And in the role of a servant to lead a stranger + about among the ruins of what had been—that must have been bitter, + too. For a moment Betty felt the bitterness of it herself and her red + mouth took upon itself a grim line. The worst of it for him was that he + was not of that strain of his race who had been the “bad lot.” + The “bad lot” had been the weak lot, the vicious, the + self-degrading. Scandals which had shut men out from their class and kind + were usually of an ugly type. This man had a strong jaw, a powerful, + healthy body, and clean, though perhaps hard, eyes. The First Man of them, + who hewed his way to the front, who stood fierce in the face of things, + who won the first lands and laid the first stones, might have been like + him in build and look. + </p> + <p> + “It's a disgusting thing,” she said to herself, “to + think of the corrupt weaklings the strong ones dwindled down to. I hate + them. So does he.” + </p> + <p> + There had been many such of late years, she knew. She had seen them in + Paris, in Rome, even in New York. Things with thin or over-thick bodies + and receding chins and foreheads; things haunting places of amusement and + finding inordinate entertainment in strange jokes and horseplay. She + herself had hot blood and a fierce strength of rebellion, and she was + wondering how, if the father and elder brother had been the “bad + lot,” he had managed to stand still, looking on, and keeping his + hands off them. + </p> + <p> + The last gold of the sun was mellowing the grey stone of the terrace and + enriching the green of the weeds thrusting themselves into life between + the uneven flags when she reached Stornham, and passing through the house + found Lady Anstruthers sitting there. In sustenance of her effort to keep + up appearances, she had put on a weird little muslin dress and had + elaborated the dressing of her thin hair. It was no longer dragged back + straight from her face, and she looked a trifle less abject, even a shade + prettier. Bettina sat upon the edge of the balustrade and touched the hair + with light fingers, ruffling it a little becomingly. + </p> + <p> + “If you had worn it like this yesterday,” she said, “I + should have known you.” + </p> + <p> + “Should you, Betty? I never look into a mirror if I can help it, but + when I do I never know myself. The thing that stares back at me with its + pale eyes is not Rosy. But, of course, everyone grows old.” + </p> + <p> + “Not now! People are just discovering how to grow young instead.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers looked into the clear courage of her laughing eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Somehow,” she said, “you say strange things in such a + way that one feels as if they must be true, however—however unlike + anything else they are.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not as new as they seem,” said Betty. “Ancient + philosophers said things like them centuries ago, but people did not + believe them. We are just beginning to drag them out of the dust and + furbish them up and pretend they are ours, just as people rub up and adorn + themselves with jewels dug out of excavations.” + </p> + <p> + “In America people think so many new things,” said poor little + Lady Anstruthers with yearning humbleness. + </p> + <p> + “The whole civilised world is thinking what you call new things,” + said Betty. “The old ones won't do. They have been tried, and though + they have helped us to the place we have reached, they cannot help us any + farther. We must begin again.” + </p> + <p> + “It is such a long time since I began,” said Rosy, “such + a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there must be another beginning for you, too. The hour has + struck.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers rose with as involuntary a movement as if a strong hand + had drawn her to her feet. She stood facing Betty, a pathetic little + figure in her washed-out muslin frock and with her washed-out face and + eyes and being, though on her faded cheeks a flush was rising. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty!” she said, “I don't know what there is about + you, but there is something which makes one feel as if you believed + everything and could do everything, and as if one believes YOU. Whatever + you were to say, you would make it seem TRUE. If you said the wildest + thing in the world I should BELIEVE you.” + </p> + <p> + Betty got up, too, and there was an extraordinary steadiness in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You may,” she answered. “I shall never say one thing to + you which is not a truth, not one single thing.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe that,” said Rosy Anstruthers, with a quivering + mouth. “I do believe it so.” + </p> + <p> + “I walked to Mount Dunstan,” Betty said later. + </p> + <p> + “Really?” said Rosy. “There and back?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and all round the park and the gardens.” + </p> + <p> + Rosy looked rather uncertain. + </p> + <p> + “Weren't you a little afraid of meeting someone?” + </p> + <p> + “I did meet someone. At first I took him for a gamekeeper. But he + turned out to be Lord Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers gasped. + </p> + <p> + “What did he do?” she exclaimed. “Did he look angry at + seeing a stranger? They say he is so ill-tempered and rude.” + </p> + <p> + “I should feel ill-tempered if I were in his place,” said + Betty. “He has enough to rouse his evil passions and make him + savage. What a fate for a man with any sense and decency of feeling! What + fools and criminals the last generation of his house must have produced! I + wonder how such things evolve themselves. But he is different—different. + One can see it. If he had a chance—just half a chance—he would + build it all up again. And I don't mean merely the place, but all that one + means when one says 'his house.'” + </p> + <p> + “He would need a great deal of money,” sighed Lady + Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + Betty nodded slowly as she looked out, reflecting, into the park. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it would require money,” was her admission. + </p> + <p> + “And he has none,” Lady Anstruthers added. “None + whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “He will get some,” said Betty, still reflecting. “He + will make it, or dig it up, or someone will leave it to him. There is a + great deal of money in the world, and when a strong creature ought to have + some of it he gets it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty!” said Rosy. “Oh, Betty!” + </p> + <p> + “Watch that man,” said Betty; “you will see. It will + come.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' mind, working at no time on complex lines, presented her + with a simple modern solution. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he will marry an American,” she said, and saying it, + sighed again. + </p> + <p> + “He will not do it on purpose.” Bettina answered slowly and + with such an air of absence of mind that Rosy laughed a little. + </p> + <p> + “Will he do it accidentally, or against his will?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Betty herself smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he will,” she said. “There are Englishmen who + rather dislike Americans. I think he is one of them.” + </p> + <p> + It apparently became necessary for Lady Anstruthers, a moment later, to + lean upon the stone balustrade and pick off a young leaf or so, for no + reason whatever, unless that in doing so she averted her look from her + sister as she made her next remark. + </p> + <p> + “Are you—when are you going to write to father and mother?” + </p> + <p> + “I have written,” with unembarrassed evenness of tone. “Mother + will be counting the days.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” Rosy breathed, with a soft little gasp. “Mother!” + and turned her face farther away. “What did you tell her?” + </p> + <p> + Betty moved over to her and stood close at her side. The power of her + personality enveloped the tremulous creature as if it had been a sense of + warmth. + </p> + <p> + “I told her how beautiful the place was, and how Ughtred adored you—and + how you loved us all, and longed to see New York again.” + </p> + <p> + The relief in the poor little face was so immense that Betty's heart shook + before it. Lady Anstruthers looked up at her with adoring eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I might have known,” she said; “I might have known that—that + you would only say the right thing. You couldn't say the wrong thing, + Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Betty bent over her and spoke almost yearningly. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever happens,” she said, “we will take care that + mother is not hurt. She's too kind—she's too good—she's too + tender.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I have remembered,” said Lady Anstruthers + brokenly. “She used to hold me on her lap when I was quite grown up. + Oh! her soft, warm arms—her warm shoulder! I have so wanted her.” + </p> + <p> + “She has wanted you,” Betty answered. “She thinks of you + just as she did when she held you on her lap.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she saw me now—looking like this! If she saw me! + Sometimes I have even been glad to think she never would.” + </p> + <p> + “She will.” Betty's tone was cool and clear. “But before + she does I shall have made you look like yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' thin hand closed on her plucked leaves convulsively, and + then opening let them drop upon the stone of the terrace. + </p> + <p> + “We shall never see each other. It wouldn't be possible,” she + said. “And there is no magic in the world now, Betty. You can't + bring back——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you can,” said Bettina. “And what used to be + called magic is only the controlled working of the law and order of things + in these days. We must talk it all over.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers became a little pale. + </p> + <p> + “What?” she asked, low and nervously, and Betty saw her glance + sideways at the windows of the room which opened on to the terrace. + </p> + <p> + Betty took her hand and drew her down into a chair. She sat near her and + looked her straight in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be frightened,” she said. “I tell you there is no + need to be frightened. We are not living in the Middle Ages. There is a + policeman even in Stornham village, and we are within four hours of + London, where there are thousands.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers tried to laugh, but did not succeed very well, and her + forehead flushed. + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite know why I seem so nervous,” she said. “It's + very silly of me.” + </p> + <p> + She was still timid enough to cling to some rag of pretence, but Betty + knew that it would fall away. She did the wisest possible thing, which was + to make an apparently impersonal remark. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to go over the place with me and show me everything. + Walls and fences and greenhouses and outbuildings must not be allowed to + crumble away.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” cried Rosy. “Have you seen all that already?” + She actually stared at her. “How practical and—and American!” + </p> + <p> + “To see that a wall has fallen when you find yourself obliged to + walk round a pile of grass-grown brickwork?” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers still softly stared. + </p> + <p> + “What—what are you thinking of?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Thinking that it is all too beautiful——” Betty's + look swept the loveliness spread about her, “too beautiful and too + valuable to be allowed to lose its value and its beauty.” She turned + her eyes back to Rosy and the deep dimple near her mouth showed itself + delightfully. “It is a throwing away of capital,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried Lady Anstruthers, “how clever you are! And + you look so different, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I look stupid?” the dimple deepening. “I must try to + alter that.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't try to alter your looks,” said Rosy. “It is your + looks that make you so—so wonderful. But usually women—girls——” + Rosy paused. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have been trained,” laughed Betty. “I am the + spoiled daughter of a business man of genius. His business is an art and a + science. I have had advantages. He has let me hear him talk. I even know + some trifling things about stocks. Not enough to do me vital injury—but + something. What I know best of all,”—her laugh ended and her + eyes changed their look,—“is that it is a blunder to think + that beauty is not capital—that happiness is not—and that both + are not the greatest assets in the scheme. This,” with a wave of her + hand, taking in all they saw, “is beauty, and it ought to be + happiness, and it must be taken care of. It is your home and Ughtred's——” + </p> + <p> + “It is Nigel's,” put in Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “It is entailed, isn't it?” turning quickly. “He cannot + sell it?” + </p> + <p> + “If he could we should not be sitting here,” ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “Then he cannot object to its being rescued from ruin.” + </p> + <p> + “He will object to—to money being spent on things he does not + care for.” Lady Anstruthers' voice lowered itself, as it always did + when she spoke of her husband, and she indulged in the involuntary hasty + glance about her. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to my room to take off my hat,” Betty said. + “Will you come with me?” + </p> + <p> + She went into the house, talking quietly of ordinary things, and in this + way they mounted the stairway together and passed along the gallery which + led to her room. When they entered it she closed the door, locked it, and, + taking off her hat, laid it aside. After doing which she sat. + </p> + <p> + “No one can hear and no one can come in,” she said. “And + if they could, you are afraid of things you need not be afraid of now. + Tell me what happened when you were so ill after Ughtred was born.” + </p> + <p> + “You guessed that it happened then,” gasped Lady Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + “It was a good time to make anything happen,” replied Bettina. + “You were prostrated, you were a child, and felt yourself cast off + hopelessly from the people who loved you.” + </p> + <p> + “Forever! Forever!” Lady Anstruthers' voice was a sharp little + moan. “That was what I felt—that nothing could ever help me. I + dared not write things. He told me he would not have it—that he + would stop any hysterical complaints—that his mother could testify + that he behaved perfectly to me. She was the only person in the room with + us when—when——” + </p> + <p> + “When?” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers shuddered. She leaned forward and caught Betty's hand + between her own shaking ones. + </p> + <p> + “He struck me! He struck me! He said it never happened—but it + did—it did! Betty, it did! That was the one thing that came back to + me clearest. He said that I was in delirious hysterics, and that I had + struggled with his mother and himself, because they tried to keep me + quiet, and prevent the servants hearing. One awful day he brought Lady + Anstruthers into the room, and they stood over me, as I lay in bed, and + she fixed her eyes on me and said that she—being an Englishwoman, + and a person whose word would be believed, could tell people the truth—my + father and mother, if necessary, that my spoiled, hysterical American + tempers had created unhappiness for me—merely because I was bored by + life in the country and wanted excitement. I tried to answer, but they + would not let me, and when I began to shake all over, they said that I was + throwing myself into hysterics again. And they told the doctor so, and he + believed it.” + </p> + <p> + The possibilities of the situation were plainly to be seen. Fate, in the + form of temperament itself, had been against her. It was clear enough to + Betty as she patted and stroked the thin hands. “I understand. Tell + me the rest,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' head dropped. + </p> + <p> + “When I was loneliest, and dying of homesickness, and so weak that I + could not speak without sobbing, he came to me—it was one morning + after I had been lying awake all night—and he began to seem kinder. + He had not been near me for two days, and I had thought I was going to be + left to die alone—and mother would never know. He said he had been + reflecting and that he was afraid that we had misunderstood each other—because + we belonged to different countries, and had been brought up in different + ways——” she paused. + </p> + <p> + “And that if you understood his position and considered it, you + might both be quite happy,” Betty gave in quiet termination. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers started. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know it all!” she exclaimed + </p> + <p> + “Only because I have heard it before. It is an old trick. And + because he seemed kind and relenting, you tried to understand—and + signed something.” + </p> + <p> + “I WANTED to understand. I WANTED to believe. What did it matter + which of us had the money, if we liked each other and were happy? He told + me things about the estate, and about the enormous cost of it, and his bad + luck, and debts he could not help. And I said that I would do anything if—if + we could only be like mother and father. And he kissed me and I signed the + paper.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “He went to London the next day, and then to Paris. He said he was + obliged to go on business. He was away a month. And after a week had + passed, Lady Anstruthers began to be restless and angry, and once she flew + into a rage, and told me I was a fool, and that if I had been an + Englishwoman, I should have had some decent control over my husband, + because he would have respected me. In time I found out what I had done. + It did not take long.” + </p> + <p> + “The paper you signed,” said Betty, “gave him control + over your money?” + </p> + <p> + A forlorn nod was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “And since then he has done as he chose, and he has not chosen to + care for Stornham. And once he made you write to father, to ask for more + money?” + </p> + <p> + “I did it once. I never would do it again. He has tried to make me. + He always says it is to save Stornham for Ughtred.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can take Stornham from Ughtred. It may come to him a ruin, + but it will come to him.” + </p> + <p> + “He says there are legal points I cannot understand. And he says he + is spending money on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “He—doesn't go into that. If I were to ask questions, he would + make me know that I had better stop. He says I know nothing about things. + And he is right. He has never allowed me to know and—and I am not + like you, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “When you signed the paper, you did not realise that you were doing + something you could never undo and that you would be forced to submit to + the consequences?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't realise anything but that it would kill me to live + as I had been living—feeling as if they hated me. And I was so glad + and thankful that he seemed kinder. It was as if I had been on the rack, + and he turned the screws back, and I was ready to do anything—anything—if + I might be taken off. Oh, Betty! you know, don't you, that—that if + he would only have been a little kind—just a little—I would + have obeyed him always, and given him everything.” + </p> + <p> + Betty sat and looked at her, with deeply pondering eyes. She was + confronting the fact that it seemed possible that one must build a new + soul for her as well as a new body. In these days of science and growing + sanity of thought, one did not stand helpless before the problem of + physical rebuilding, and—and perhaps, if one could pour life into a + creature, the soul of it would respond, and wake again, and grow. + </p> + <p> + “You do not know where he is?” she said aloud. “You + absolutely do not know?” + </p> + <p> + “I never know exactly,” Lady Anstruthers answered. “He + was here for a few days the week before you came. He said he was going + abroad. He might appear to-morrow, I might not hear of him for six months. + I can't help hoping now that it will be the six months.” + </p> + <p> + “Why particularly now?” inquired Betty. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers flushed and looked shy and awkward. + </p> + <p> + “Because of—you. I don't know what he would say. I don't know + what he would do.” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “It would be sure to be something unreasonable and wicked,” + said Lady Anstruthers. “It would, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what it would be?” Betty said musingly. + </p> + <p> + “He has told lies for years to keep you all from me. If he came now, + he would know that he had been found out. He would say that I had told you + things. He would be furious because you have seen what there is to see. He + would know that you could not help but realise that the money he made me + ask for had not been spent on the estate. He,—Betty, he would try to + force you to go away.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what he would do?” Betty said again musingly. She + felt interested, not afraid. + </p> + <p> + “It would be something cunning,” Rosy protested. “It + would be something no one could expect. He might be so rude that you could + not remain in the room with him, or he might be quite polite, and pretend + he was rather glad to see you. If he was only frightfully rude we should + be safer, because that would not be an unexpected thing, but if he was + polite, it would be because he was arranging something hideous, which you + could not defend yourself against.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell me,” said Betty quite slowly, because, as she + looked down at the carpet, she was thinking very hard, “the kind of + unexpected thing he has done to you?” Lifting her eyes, she saw that + a troubled flush was creeping over Lady Anstruthers' face. + </p> + <p> + “There—have been—so many queer things,” she + faltered. Then Betty knew there was some special thing she was afraid to + talk about, and that if she desired to obtain illuminating information it + would be well to go into the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Try,” she said, “to remember some particular incident.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers looked nervous. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy,” in the level voice, “there has been a particular + incident—and I would rather hear of it from you than from him.” + </p> + <p> + Rosy's lap held little shaking hands. + </p> + <p> + “He has held it over me for years,” she said breathlessly. + “He said he would write about it to father and mother. He says he + could use it against me as evidence in—in the divorce court. He says + that divorce courts in America are for women, but in England they are for + men, and—he could defend himself against me.” + </p> + <p> + The incongruity of the picture of the small, faded creature arraigned in a + divorce court on charges of misbehaviour would have made Betty smile if + she had been in smiling mood. + </p> + <p> + “What did he accuse you of?” + </p> + <p> + “That was the—the unexpected thing,” miserably. + </p> + <p> + Betty took the unsteady hands firmly in her own. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be afraid to tell me,” she said. “He knew you so + well that he understood what would terrify you the most. I know you so + well that I understand how he does it. Did he do this unexpected thing + just before you wrote to father for the money?” As she quite + suddenly presented the question, Rosy exclaimed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “How did you know?” she said. “You—you are like a + lawyer. How could you know?” + </p> + <p> + How simple she was! How obviously an easy prey! She had been unconsciously + giving evidence with every word. + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking him over,” Betty said. “He + interests me. I have begun to guess that he always wants something when he + professes that he has a grievance.” + </p> + <p> + Then with drooping head, Rosy told the story. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it happened before he made me write to father for so much + money. The vicar was ill and was obliged to go away for six months. The + clergyman who came to take his place was a young man. He was kind and + gentle, and wanted to help people. His mother was with him and she was + like him. They loved each other, and they were quite poor. His name was + Ffolliott. I liked to hear him preach. He said things that comforted me. + Nigel found out that he comforted me, and—when he called here, he + was more polite to him than he had ever been to Mr. Brent. He seemed + almost as if he liked him. He actually asked him to dinner two or three + times. After dinner, he would go out of the room and leave us together. + Oh, Betty!” clinging to her hands, “I was so wretched then, + that sometimes I thought I was going out of my mind. I think I looked + wild. I used to kneel down and try to pray, and I could not.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “I used to feel that if I could only have one friend, just one, I + could bear it better. Once I said something like that to Nigel. He only + shrugged his shoulders and sneered when I said it. But afterwards I knew + he had remembered. One evening, when he had asked Mr. Ffolliott to dinner, + he led him to talk about religion. Oh, Betty! It made my blood turn cold + when he began. I knew he was doing it for some wicked reason. I knew the + look in his eyes and the awful, agreeable smile on his mouth. When he said + at last, 'If you could help my poor wife to find comfort in such things,' + I began to see. I could not explain to anyone how he did it, but with just + a sentence, dropped here and there, he seemed to tell the whole story of a + silly, selfish, American girl, thwarted in her vulgar little ambitions, + and posing as a martyr, because she could not have her own way in + everything. He said once, quite casually, 'I'm afraid American women are + rather spoiled.' And then he said, in the same tolerant way—'A poor + man is a disappointment to an American girl. America does not believe in + rank combined with lack of fortune.' I dared not defend myself. I am not + clever enough to think of the right things to say. He meant Mr. Ffolliott + to understand that I had married him because I thought he was grand and + rich, and that I was a disappointed little spiteful shrew. I tried to act + as if he was not hurting me, but my hands trembled, and a lump kept rising + in my throat. When we returned to the drawing-room, and at last he left us + together, I was praying and praying that I might be able to keep from + breaking down.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped and swallowed hard. Betty held her hands firmly until she went + on. + </p> + <p> + “For a few minutes, I sat still, and tried to think of some new + subject—something about the church or the village. But I could not + begin to speak because of the lump in my throat. And then, suddenly, but + quietly, Mr. Ffolliott got up. And though I dared not lift my eyes, I knew + he was standing before the fire, quite near me. And, oh! what do you think + he said, as low and gently as if his voice was a woman's. I did not know + that people ever said such things now, or even thought them. But never, + never shall I forget that strange minute. He said just this: + </p> + <p> + “'God will help you. He will. He will.' + </p> + <p> + “As if it was true, Betty! As if there was a God—and—He + had not forgotten me. I did not know what I was doing, but I put out my + hand and caught at his sleeve, and when I looked up into his face, I saw + in his kind, good eyes, that he knew—that somehow—God knows + how—he understood and that I need not utter a word to explain to him + that he had been listening to lies.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you talk to him?” Betty asked quietly. + </p> + <p> + “He talked to me. We did not even speak of Nigel. He talked to me as + I had never heard anyone talk before. Somehow he filled the room with + something real, which was hope and comfort and like warmth, which kept my + soul from shivering. The tears poured from my eyes at first, but the lump + in my throat went away, and when Nigel came back I actually did not feel + frightened, though he looked at me and sneered quietly.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say anything afterwards?” + </p> + <p> + “He laughed a little cold laugh and said, 'I see you have been + seeking the consolation of religion. Neurotic women like confessors. I do + not object to your confessing, if you confess your own backslidings and + not mine.'” + </p> + <p> + “That was the beginning,” said Betty speculatively. “The + unexpected thing was the end. Tell me the rest?” + </p> + <p> + “No one could have dreamed of it,” Rosy broke forth. “For + weeks he was almost like other people. He stayed at Stornham and spent his + days in shooting. He professed that he was rather enjoying himself in a + dull way. He encouraged me to go to the vicarage, he invited the + Ffolliotts here. He said Mrs. Ffolliott was a gentlewoman and good for me. + He said it was proper that I should interest myself in parish work. Once + or twice he even brought some little message to me from Mr. Ffolliott.” + </p> + <p> + It was a pitiably simple story. Betty saw, through its relation, the + unconsciousness of the easily allured victim, the adroit leading on from + step to step, the ordinary, natural, seeming method which arranged + opportunities. The two had been thrown together at the Court, at the + vicarage, the church and in the village, and the hawk had looked on and + bided his time. For the first time in her years of exile, Rosy had begun + to feel that she might be allowed a friend—though she lived in + secret tremor lest the normal liberty permitted her should suddenly be + snatched away. + </p> + <p> + “We never talked of Nigel,” she said, twisting her hands. + “But he made me begin to live again. He talked to me of Something + that watched and would not leave me—would never leave me. I was + learning to believe it. Sometimes when I walked through the wood to the + village, I used to stop among the trees and look up at the bits of sky + between the branches, and listen to the sound in the leaves—the + sound that never stops—and it seemed as if it was saying something + to me. And I would clasp my hands and whisper, 'Yes, yes,' 'I will,' 'I + will.' I used to see Nigel looking at me at table with a queer smile in + his eyes and once he said to me—'You are growing young and lovely, + my dear. Your colour is improving. The counsels of our friend are of a + salutary nature.' It would have made me nervous, but he said it almost + good-naturedly, and I was silly enough even to wonder if it could be + possible that he was pleased to see me looking less ill. It was true, + Betty, that I was growing stronger. But it did not last long.” + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid not,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “An old woman in the lane near Bartyon Wood was ill. Mr. Ffolliott + had asked me to go to see her, and I used to go. She suffered a great deal + and clung to us both. He comforted her, as he comforted me. Sometimes when + he was called away he would send a note to me, asking me to go to her. One + day he wrote hastily, saying that she was dying, and asked if I would go + with him to her cottage at once. I knew it would save time if I met him in + the path which was a short cut. So I wrote a few words and gave them to + the messenger. I said, 'Do not come to the house. I will meet you in + Bartyon Wood.'” + </p> + <p> + Betty made a slight movement, and in her face there was a dawning of + mingled amazement and incredulity. The thought which had come to her + seemed—as Ughtred's locking of the door had seemed—too wild + for modern days. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers saw her expression and understood it. She made a hopeless + gesture with her small, bony hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “it is just like that. No one would + believe it. The worst cleverness of the things he does, is that when one + tells of them, they sound like lies. I have a bewildered feeling that I + should not believe them myself if I had not seen them. He met the boy in + the park and took the note from him. He came back to the house and up to + my room, where I was dressing quickly to go to Mr. Ffolliott.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped for quite a minute, rather as if to recover breath. + </p> + <p> + “He closed the door behind him and came towards me with the note in + his hand. And I saw in a second the look that always terrifies me, in his + face. He had opened the note and he smoothed out the paper quietly and + said, 'What is this?' I could not help it—I turned cold and began to + shiver. I could not imagine what was coming.” + </p> + <p> + “'Is it my note to Mr. Ffolliott?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, it is your note to Mr. Ffolliott,' and he read it aloud. + “Do not come to the house. I will meet you in Bartyon Wood.” + That is a nice note for a man's wife to have written, to be picked up and + read by a stranger, if your confessor is not cautious in the matter of + letters from women——' + </p> + <p> + “When he begins a thing in that way, you may always know that he has + planned everything—that you can do nothing—I always know. I + knew then, and I knew I was quite white when I answered him: + </p> + <p> + “'I wrote it in a great hurry, Mrs. Farne is worse. We are going + together to her. I said I would meet him—to save time.' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed, his awful little laugh, and touched the paper. + </p> + <p> + “'I have no doubt. And I have no doubt that if other persons saw + this, they would believe it. It is very likely. + </p> + <p> + “'But you believe it,' I said. 'You know it is true. No one would be + so silly—so silly and wicked as to——' Then I broke down + and cried out. 'What do you mean? What could anyone think it meant?' I was + so wild that I felt as if I was going crazy. He clenched my wrist and + shook me. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't think you can play the fool with me,' he said. 'I have been + watching this thing from the first. The first time I leave you alone with + the fellow, I come back to find you have been giving him an emotional + scene. Do you suppose your simpering good spirits and your imbecile pink + cheeks told me nothing? They told me exactly this. I have waited to come + upon it, and here it is. “Do not come to the house—I will meet + you in the wood.”' + </p> + <p> + “That was the unexpected thing. It was no use to argue and try to + explain. I knew he did not believe what he was saying, but he worked + himself into a rage, he accused me of awful things, and called me awful + names in a loud voice, so that he could be heard, until I was dumb and + staggering. All the time, I knew there was a reason, but I could not tell + then what it was. He said at last, that he was going to Mr. Ffolliott. He + said, 'I will meet him in the wood and I will take your note with me.' + </p> + <p> + “Betty, it was so shameful that I fell down on my knees. 'Oh, don't—don't—do + that,' I said. 'I beg of you, Nigel. He is a gentleman and a clergyman. I + beg and beg of you. If you will not, I will do anything—anything.' + And at that minute I remembered how he had tried to make me write to + father for money. And I cried out—catching at his coat, and holding + him back. 'I will write to father as you asked me. I will do anything. I + can't bear it.'” + </p> + <p> + “That was the whole meaning of the whole thing,” said Betty + with eyes ablaze. “That was the beginning, the middle and the end. + What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “He pretended to be made more angry. He said, 'Don't insult me by + trying to bribe me with your vulgar money. Don't insult me.' But he + gradually grew sulky instead of raging, and though he put the note in his + pocket, he did not go to Mr. Ffolliott. And—I wrote to father.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember that,” Betty answered. “Did you ever speak + to Mr. Ffolliott again?” + </p> + <p> + “He guessed—he knew—I saw it in his kind, brown eyes + when he passed me without speaking, in the village. I daresay the + villagers were told about the awful thing by some servant, who heard + Nigel's voice. Villagers always know what is happening. He went away a few + weeks later. The day before he went, I had walked through the wood, and + just outside it, I met him. He stopped for one minute—just one—he + lifted his hat and said, just as he had spoken them that first night—just + the same words, 'God will help you. He will. He will.'” + </p> + <p> + A strange, almost unearthly joy suddenly flashed across her face. + </p> + <p> + “It must be true,” she said. “It must be true. He has + sent you, Betty. It has been a long time—it has been so long that + sometimes I have forgotten his words. But you have come!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have come,” Betty answered. And she bent forward and + kissed her gently, as if she had been soothing a child. + </p> + <p> + There were other questions to ask. She was obliged to ask them. “The + unexpected thing” had been used as an instrument for years. It was + always efficacious. Over the yearningly homesick creature had hung the + threat that her father and mother, those she ached and longed for, could + be told the story in such a manner as would brand her as a woman with a + shameful secret. How could she explain herself? There were the awful, + written words. He was her husband. He was remorseless, plausible. She + dared not write freely. She had no witnesses to call upon. She had + discovered that he had planned with composed steadiness that misleading + impressions should be given to servants and village people. When the + Brents returned to the vicarage, she had observed, with terror, that for + some reason they stiffened, and looked askance when the Ffolliotts were + mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, Lady Anstruthers, that Mr. Ffolliott was a great + mistake,” Mrs. Brent said once. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers had not dared to ask any questions. She had felt the + awkward colour rising in her face and had known that she looked guilty. + But if she had protested against the injustice of the remark, Sir Nigel + would have heard of her words before the day had passed, and she shuddered + to think of the result. He had by that time reached the point of referring + to Ffolliott with sneering lightness, as “Your lover.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you defend your lover to me,” he had said on one occasion, + when she had entered a timid protest. And her white face and wild helpless + eyes had been such evidence as to the effect the word had produced, that + he had seen the expediency of making a point of using it. + </p> + <p> + The blood beat in Betty Vanderpoel's veins. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy,” she said, looking steadily in the faded face, “tell + me this. Did you never think of getting away from him, of going somewhere, + and trying to reach father, by cable, or letter, by some means?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' weary and wrinkled little smile was a pitiably + illuminating thing. + </p> + <p> + “My dear” she said, “if you are strong and beautiful and + rich and well dressed, so that people care to look at you, and listen to + what you say, you can do things. But who, in England, will listen to a + shabby, dowdy, frightened woman, when she runs away from her husband, if + he follows her and tells people she is hysterical or mad or bad? It is the + shabby, dowdy woman who is in the wrong. At first, I thought of nothing + else but trying to get away. And once I went to Stornham station. I walked + all the way, on a hot day. And just as I was getting into a third-class + carriage, Nigel marched in and caught my arm, and held me back. I fainted + and when I came to myself I was in the carriage, being driven back to the + Court, and he was sitting opposite to me. He said, 'You fool! It would + take a cleverer woman than you to carry that out.' And I knew it was the + awful truth.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the awful truth now,” said Betty, and she rose to + her feet and stood looking before her, but with a look which did not rest + on chairs and tables. She remained so, standing for a few moments of dead + silence. + </p> + <p> + “What a fool he was!” she said at last. “And what a + villain! But a villain is always a fool.” + </p> + <p> + She bent, and taking Rosy's face between her hands, kissed it with a kiss + which seemed like a seal. “That will do,” she said. “Now + I know. One must know what is in one's hands and what is not. Then one + need not waste time in talking of miserable things. One can save one's + strength for doing what can be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you would always think about DOING things,” said + Lady Anstruthers. “That is American, too.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a quality Americans inherited from England,” lightly; + “one of the results of it is that England covers a rather large + share of the map of the world. It is a practical quality. You and I might + spend hours in talking to each other of what Nigel has done and what you + have done, of what he has said, and of what you have said. We might give + some hours, I daresay, to what the Dowager did and said. But wiser people + than we are have found out that thinking of black things past is living + them again, and it is like poisoning one's blood. It is deterioration of + property.” + </p> + <p> + She said the last words as if she had ended with a jest. But she knew what + she was doing. + </p> + <p> + “You were tricked into giving up what was yours, to a person who + could not be trusted. What has been done with it, scarcely matters. It is + not yours, but Sir Nigel's. But we are not helpless, because we have in + our hands the most powerful material agent in the world. + </p> + <p> + “Come, Rosy, and let us walk over the house. We will begin with + that.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + TOWNLINSON & SHEPPARD + </h3> + <p> + During the whole course of her interesting life—and she had always + found life interesting—Betty Vanderpoel decided that she had known + no experience more absorbing than this morning spent in going over the + long-closed and deserted portions of the neglected house. She had never + seen anything like the place, or as full of suggestion. The greater part + of it had simply been shut up and left to time and weather, both of which + had had their effects. The fine old red roof, having lost tiles, had + fallen into leaks that let in rain, which had stained and rotted walls, + plaster, and woodwork; wind and storm had beaten through broken window + panes and done their worst with such furniture and hangings as they found + to whip and toss and leave damp and spotted with mould. They passed + through corridors, and up and down short or long stairways, with stained + or faded walls, and sometimes with cracked or fallen plastering and + wainscotting. Here and there the oak flooring itself was uncertain. The + rooms, whether large or small, all presented a like aspect of potential + beauty and comfort, utterly uncared for and forlorn. There were many + rooms, but none more than scantily furnished, and a number of them were + stripped bare. Betty found herself wondering how long a time it had taken + the belongings of the big place to dwindle and melt away into such + bareness. + </p> + <p> + “There was a time, I suppose, when it was all furnished,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “All these rooms were shut up when I came here,” Rosy + answered. “I suppose things worth selling have been sold. When + pieces of furniture were broken in one part of the house, they were + replaced by things brought from another. No one cared. Nigel hates it all. + He calls it a rathole. He detests the country everywhere, but particularly + this part of it. After the first year I had learned better than to speak + to him of spending money on repairs.” + </p> + <p> + “A good deal of money should be spent on repairs,” reflected + Betty, looking about her. + </p> + <p> + She was standing in the middle of a room whose walls were hung with the + remains of what had been chintz, covered with a pattern of loose clusters + of moss rosebuds. The dampness had rotted it until, in some places, it had + fallen away in strips from its fastenings. A quaint, embroidered couch + stood in one corner, and as Betty looked at it, a mouse crept from under + the tattered valance, stared at her in alarm and suddenly darted back + again, in terror of intrusion so unusual. A casement window swung open, on + a broken hinge, and a strong branch of ivy, having forced its way inside, + had thrown a covering of leaves over the deep ledge, and was beginning to + climb the inner woodwork. Through the casement was to be seen a heavenly + spread of country, whose rolling lands were clad softly in green pastures + and thick-branched trees. + </p> + <p> + “This is the Rosebud Boudoir,” said Lady Anstruthers, smiling + faintly. “All the rooms have names. I thought them so delightful, + when I first heard them. The Damask Room—the Tapestry Room—the + White Wainscot Room—My Lady's Chamber. It almost broke my heart when + I saw what they looked like.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be very interesting,” Betty commented slowly, + “to make them look as they ought to look.” + </p> + <p> + A remote fear rose to the surface of the expression in Lady Anstruthers' + eyes. She could not detach herself from certain recollections of Nigel—of + his opinions of her family—of his determination not to allow it to + enter as a factor in either his life or hers. And Betty had come to + Stornham—Betty whom he had detested as a child—and in the + course of two days, she had seemed to become a new part of the atmosphere, + and to make the dead despair of the place begin to stir with life. What + other thing than this was happening as she spoke of making such rooms as + the Rosebud Boudoir “look as they ought to look,” and said the + words not as if they were part of a fantastic vision, but as if they + expressed a perfectly possible thing? + </p> + <p> + Betty saw the doubt in her eyes, and in a measure, guessed at its meaning. + The time to pause for argument had, however not arrived. There was too + much to be investigated, too much to be seen. She swept her on her way. + They wandered on through some forty rooms, more or less; they opened doors + and closed them; they unbarred shutters and let the sun stream in on dust + and dampness and cobwebs. The comprehension of the situation which Betty + gained was as valuable as it was enlightening. + </p> + <p> + The descent into the lower part of the house was a new experience. Betty + had not before seen huge, flagged kitchens, vaulted servants' halls, stone + passages, butteries and dairies. The substantial masonry of the walls and + arched ceilings, the stone stairway, and the seemingly endless offices, + were interestingly remote in idea from such domestic modernities as chance + views of up-to-date American household workings had provided her. + </p> + <p> + In the huge kitchen itself, an elderly woman, rolling pastry, paused to + curtsy to them, with stolid curiosity in her heavy-featured face. In her + character as “single-handed” cook, Mrs. Noakes had sent up + uninviting meals to Lady Anstruthers for several years, but she had not + seen her ladyship below stairs before. And this was the unexpected arrival—the + young lady there had been “talk of” from the moment of her + appearance. Mrs. Noakes admitted with the grudgingness of a person of + uncheerful temperament, that looks like that always would make talk. A + certain degree of vague mental illumination led her to agree with Robert, + the footman, that the stranger's effectiveness was, perhaps, also, not + altogether a matter of good looks, and certainly it was not an affair of + clothes. Her brightish blue dress, of rough cloth, was nothing particular, + notwithstanding the fit of it. There was “something else about her.” + She looked round the place, not with the casual indifference of a fine + young lady, carelessly curious to see what she had not seen before, but + with an alert, questioning interest. + </p> + <p> + “What a big place,” she said to her ladyship. “What + substantial walls! What huge joints must have been roasted before such a + fireplace.” + </p> + <p> + She drew near to the enormous, antiquated cooking place. + </p> + <p> + “People were not very practical when this was built,” she + said. “It looks as if it must waste a great deal of coal. Is it——?” + she looked at Mrs. Noakes. “Do you like it?” + </p> + <p> + There was a practical directness in the question for which Mrs. Noakes was + not prepared. Until this moment, it had apparently mattered little whether + she liked things or not. The condition of her implements of trade was one + of her grievances—the ancient fireplace and ovens the bitterest. + </p> + <p> + “It's out of order, miss,” she answered. “And they don't + use 'em like this in these days.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought not,” said Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + She made other inquiries as direct and significant of the observing eye, + and her passage through the lower part of the establishment left Mrs. + Noakes and her companions in a strange but not unpleasurable state of + ferment. + </p> + <p> + “Think of a young lady that's never had nothing to do with kitchens, + going straight to that shameful old fireplace, and seeing what it meant to + the woman that's got to use it. 'Do you like it?' she says. If she'd been + a cook herself, she couldn't have put it straighter. She's got eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “She's been using them all over the place,” said Robert. + “Her and her ladyship's been into rooms that's not been opened for + years.” + </p> + <p> + “More shame to them that should have opened 'em,” remarked + Mrs. Noakes. “Her ladyship's a poor, listless thing—but her + spirit was broken long ago. + </p> + <p> + “This one will mend it for her, perhaps,” said the man + servant. “I wonder what's going to happen.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she's got a look with her—the new one—as if where + she was things would be likely to happen. You look out. The place won't + seem so dead and alive if we've got something to think of and expect.” + </p> + <p> + “Who are the solicitors Sir Nigel employs?” Betty had asked + her sister, when their pilgrimage through the house had been completed. + </p> + <p> + Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard, a firm which for several generations + had transacted the legal business of much more important estates than + Stornham, held its affairs in hand. Lady Anstruthers knew nothing of them, + but that they evidently did not approve of the conduct of their client. + Nigel was frequently angry when he spoke of them. It could be gathered + that they had refused to allow him to do things he wished to do—sell + things, or borrow money on them. + </p> + <p> + “I think we must go to London and see them,” Betty suggested. + </p> + <p> + Rosy was agitated. Why should one see them? What was there to be spoken + of? Their going, Betty explained would be a sort of visit of ceremony—in + a measure a precaution. Since Sir Nigel was apparently not to be reached, + having given no clue as to where he intended to go, it might be discreet + to consult Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard with regard to the things it + might be well to do—the repairs it appeared necessary to make at + once. If Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard approved of the doing of such + work, Sir Nigel could not resent their action, and say that in his absence + liberties had been taken. Such a course seemed businesslike and dignified. + </p> + <p> + It was what Betty felt that her father would do. Nothing could be + complained of, which was done with the knowledge and under the sanction of + the family solicitors. + </p> + <p> + “Then there are other things we must do. We must go to shops and + theatres. It will be good for you to go to shops and theatres, Rosy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing but rags to wear,” answered Lady Anstruthers, + reddening. + </p> + <p> + “Then before we go we will have things sent down. People can be sent + from the shops to arrange what we want.” + </p> + <p> + The magic of the name, standing for great wealth, could, it was true, + bring to them, not only the contents of shops, but the people who showed + them, and were ready to carry out any orders. The name of Vanderpoel + already stood, in London, for inexhaustible resource. Yes, it was simple + enough to send for politely subservient saleswomen to bring what one + wanted. + </p> + <p> + The being reminded in every-day matters of the still real existence of the + power of this magic was the first step in the rebuilding of Lady + Anstruthers. To realise that the wonderful and yet simple necromancy was + gradually encircling her again, had its parallel in the taking of a tonic, + whose effect was cumulative. She herself did not realise the working of + it. But Betty regarded it with interest. She saw it was good for her, + merely to look on at the unpacking of the New York boxes, which the maid, + sent for from London, brought down with her. + </p> + <p> + As the woman removed, from tray after tray, the tissue-paper-enfolded + layers of garments, Lady Anstruthers sat and watched her with normal, + simply feminine interest growing in her eyes. The things were made with + the absence of any limit in expenditure, the freedom with delicate stuffs + and priceless laces which belonged only to her faint memories of a lost + past. + </p> + <p> + Nothing had limited the time spent in the embroidering of this apparently + simple linen frock and coat; nothing had restrained the hand holding the + scissors which had cut into the lace which adorned in appliques and filmy + frills this exquisitely charming ball dress. + </p> + <p> + “It is looking back so far,” she said, waving her hand towards + them with an odd gesture. “To think that it was once all like—like + that.” + </p> + <p> + She got up and went to the things, turning them over, and touching them + with a softness, almost expressing a caress. The names of the makers + stamped on bands and collars, the names of the streets in which their + shops stood, moved her. She heard again the once familiar rattle of + wheels, and the rush and roar of New York traffic. + </p> + <p> + Betty carried on the whole matter with lightness. She talked easily and + casually, giving local colour to what she said. She described the + abnormally rapid growth of the places her sister had known in her teens, + the new buildings, new theatres, new shops, new people, the later mode of + living, much of it learned from England, through the unceasing weaving of + the Shuttle. + </p> + <p> + “Changing—changing—changing. That is what it is always + doing—America. We have not reached repose yet. One wonders how long + it will be before we shall. Now we are always hurrying breathlessly after + the next thing—the new one—which we always think will be the + better one. Other countries built themselves slowly. In the days of their + building, the pace of life was a march. When America was born, the march + had already begun to hasten, and as a nation we began, in our first hour, + at the quickening speed. Now the pace is a race. New York is a + kaleidoscope. I myself can remember it a wholly different thing. One + passes down a street one day, and the next there is a great gap where some + building is being torn down—a few days later, a tall structure of + some sort is touching the sky. It is wonderful, but it does not tend to + calm the mind. That is why we cross the Atlantic so much. The sober, + quiet-loving blood our forbears brought from older countries goes in + search of rest. Mixed with other things, I feel in my own being a + resentment against newness and disorder, and an insistence on the + atmosphere of long-established things.” + </p> + <p> + But for years Lady Anstruthers had been living in the atmosphere of + long-established things, and felt no insistence upon it. She yearned to + hear of the great, changing Western world—of the great, changing + city. Betty must tell her what the changes were. What were the differences + in the streets—where had the new buildings been placed? How had + Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue and Broadway altered? Were not Gramercy + Park and Madison Square still green with grass and trees? Was it all + different? Would she not know the old places herself? Though it seemed a + lifetime since she had seen them, the years which had passed were really + not so many. + </p> + <p> + It was good for her to talk and be talked to in this manner Betty saw. + Still handling her subject lightly, she presented picture after picture. + Some of them were of the wonderful, feverish city itself—the place + quite passionately loved by some, as passionately disliked by others. She + herself had fallen into the habit, as she left childhood behind her, of + looking at it with interested wonder—at its riot of life and power, + of huge schemes, and almost superhuman labours, of fortunes so colossal + that they seemed monstrosities in their relation to the world. People who + in Rosalie's girlhood had lived in big ugly brownstone fronts, had built + for themselves or for their children, houses such as, in other countries, + would have belonged to nobles and princes, spending fortunes upon their + building, filling them with treasures brought from foreign lands, from + palaces, from art galleries, from collectors. Sometimes strange people + built such houses and lived strange lavish, ostentatious lives in them, + forming an overstrained, abnormal, pleasure-chasing world of their own. + The passing of even ten years in New York counted itself almost as a + generation; the fashions, customs, belongings of twenty years ago wore an + air of almost picturesque antiquity. + </p> + <p> + “It does not take long to make an 'old New Yorker,'” she said. + “Each day brings so many new ones.” + </p> + <p> + There were, indeed, many new ones, Lady Anstruthers found. People who had + been poor had become hugely rich, a few who had been rich had become poor, + possessions which had been large had swelled to unnatural proportions. Out + of the West had risen fortunes more monstrous than all others. As she told + one story after another, Bettina realised, as she had done often before, + that it was impossible to enter into description of the life and movements + of the place, without its curiously involving some connection with the + huge wealth of it—with its influence, its rise, its swelling, or + waning. + </p> + <p> + “Somehow one cannot free one's self from it. This is the age of + wealth and invention—but of wealth before all else. Sometimes one is + tired—tired of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You would not be tired of it if—well, if you were I, said + Lady Anstruthers rather pathetically. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not,” Betty answered. “Perhaps not.” + </p> + <p> + She herself had seen people who were not tired of it in the sense in which + she was—the men and women, with worn or intently anxious faces, + hastening with the crowds upon the pavements, all hastening somewhere, in + chase of that small portion of the wealth which they earned by their + labour as their daily share; the same men and women surging towards + elevated railroad stations, to seize on places in the homeward-bound + trains; or standing in tired-looking groups, waiting for the approach of + an already overfull street car, in which they must be packed together, and + swing to the hanging straps, to keep upon their feet. Their way of being + weary of it would be different from hers, they would be weary only of + hearing of the mountains of it which rolled themselves up, as it seemed, + in obedience to some irresistible, occult force. + </p> + <p> + On the day after Stornham village had learned that her ladyship and Miss + Vanderpoel had actually gone to London, the dignified firm of Townlinson + & Sheppard received a visit which created some slight sensation in + their establishment, though it had not been entirely unexpected. It had, + indeed, been heralded by a note from Miss Vanderpoel herself, who had + asked that the appointment be made. Men of Messrs. Townlinson & + Sheppard's indubitable rank in their profession could not fail to know the + significance of the Vanderpoel name. They knew and understood its weight + perfectly well. When their client had married one of Reuben Vanderpoel's + daughters, they had felt that extraordinary good fortune had befallen him + and his estate. Their private opinion had been that Mr. Vanderpoel's + knowledge of his son-in-law must have been limited, or that he had + curiously lax American views of paternal duty. The firm was highly + reputable, long established strictly conservative, and somewhat insular in + its point of view. It did not understand, or seek to understand, America. + It had excellent reasons for thoroughly understanding Sir Nigel + Anstruthers. Its opinions of him it reserved to itself. If Messrs. + Townlinson & Sheppard had been asked to give a daughter into their + client's keeping, they would have flatly refused to accept the honour + proposed. Mr. Townlinson had, indeed, at the time of the marriage, + admitted in strict confidence to his partner that for his part he would + have somewhat preferred to follow a daughter of his own to her tomb. After + the marriage the firm had found the situation confusing and un-English. + There had been trouble with Sir Nigel, who had plainly been disappointed. + At first it had appeared that the American magnate had shown astuteness in + refraining from leaving his son-in-law a free hand. Lady Anstruthers' + fortune was her own and not her husband's. Mr. Townlinson, paying a visit + to Stornham and finding the bride a gentle, childish-looking girl, whose + most marked expression was one of growing timorousness, had returned with + a grave face. He foresaw the result, if her family did not stand by her + with firmness, which he also foresaw her husband would prevent if + possible. It became apparent that the family did not stand by her—or + were cleverly kept at a distance. There was a long illness, which seemed + to end in the seclusion from the world, brought about by broken health. + Then it was certain that what Mr. Townlinson had foreseen had occurred. + The inexperienced girl had been bullied into submission. Sir Nigel had + gained the free hand, whatever the means he had chosen to employ. Most + improper—most improper, the whole affair. He had a great deal of + money, but none of it was used for the benefit of the estate—his + deformed boy's estate. Advice, dignified remonstrance, resulted only in + most disagreeable scenes. Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard could not + exceed certain limits. The manner in which the money was spent was + discreditable. There were avenues a respectable firm knew only by rumour, + there were insane gambling speculations, which could only end in disaster, + there were things one could not decently concern one's self with. Lady + Anstruthers' family had doubtless become indignant and disgusted, and had + dropped the whole affair. Sad for the poor woman, but not unnatural. + </p> + <p> + And now appears a Miss Vanderpoel, who wishes to appoint an interview with + Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard. What does she wish to say? The family + is apparently taking the matter up. Is this lady an elder or a younger + sister of Lady Anstruthers? Is she an older woman of that strong and + rather trying American type one hears of, or is she younger than her + ladyship, a pretty, indignant, totally unpractical girl, outraged by the + state of affairs she has discovered, foolishly coming to demand of Messrs. + Townlinson & Sheppard an explanation of things they are not + responsible for? Will she, perhaps, lose her temper, and accuse and + reproach, or even—most unpleasant to contemplate—shed + hysterical tears? + </p> + <p> + It fell to Mr. Townlinson to receive her in the absence of Mr. Sheppard, + who had been called to Northamptonshire to attend to great affairs. He was + a stout, grave man with a heavy, well-cut face, and, when Bettina entered + his room, his courteous reception of her reserved his view of the + situation entirely. + </p> + <p> + She was not of the mature and rather alarming American type he had + imagined possible, he felt some relief in marking at once. She was also + not the pretty, fashionable young lady who might have come to scold him, + and ask silly, irrational questions. + </p> + <p> + His ordinarily rather unillumined countenance changed somewhat in + expression when she sat down and began to speak. Mr. Townlinson was + impressed by the fact that it was at once unmistakably evident that + whatsoever her reason for coming, she had not presented herself to ask + irrelevant or unreasonable questions. Lady Anstruthers, she explained + without superfluous phrase, had no definite knowledge of her husband's + whereabouts, and it had seemed possible that Messrs. Townlinson & + Sheppard might have received some information more recent that her own. + The impersonal framing of this inquiry struck Mr. Townlinson as being in + remarkably good taste, since it conveyed no condemnation of Sir Nigel, and + no desire to involve Mr. Townlinson in expressing any. It refrained even + from implying that the situation was an unusual one, which might be open + to criticism. Excellent reserve and great cleverness, Mr. Townlinson + commented inwardly. There were certainly few young ladies who would have + clearly realised that a solicitor cannot be called upon to commit himself, + until he has had time to weigh matters and decide upon them. His long and + varied experience had included interviews in which charming, emotional + women had expected him at once to “take sides.” Miss + Vanderpoel exhibited no signs of expecting anything of this kind, even + when she went on with what she had come to say. Stornham Court and its + surroundings were depreciating seriously in value through need of radical + repairs etc. Her sister's comfort was naturally involved, and, as Mr. + Townlinson would fully understand, her nephew's future. The sooner the + process of dilapidation was arrested, the better and with the less + difficulty. The present time was without doubt better than an indefinite + future. Miss Vanderpoel, having fortunately been able to come to Stornham, + was greatly interested, and naturally desirous of seeing the work begun. + Her father also would be interested. Since it was not possible to consult + Sir Nigel, it had seemed proper to consult his solicitors in whose hands + the estate had been for so long a time. She was aware, it seemed, that not + only Mr. Townlinson, but Mr. Townlinson's father, and also his + grandfather, had legally represented the Anstruthers, as well as many + other families. As there seemed no necessity for any structural changes, + and the work done was such as could only rescue and increase the value of + the estate, could there be any objection to its being begun without delay? + </p> + <p> + Certainly an unusual young lady. It would be interesting to discover how + well she knew Sir Nigel, since it seemed that only a knowledge of him—his + temper, his bitter, irritable vanity, could have revealed to her the + necessity of the precaution she was taking without even intimating that it + was a precaution. Extraordinarily clever girl. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Townlinson wore an air of quiet, business-like reflection. + </p> + <p> + “You are aware, Miss Vanderpoel, that the present income from the + estate is not such as would justify anything approaching the required + expenditure?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am aware of that. The expense would be provided for by my + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Most generous on Mr. Vanderpoel's part,” Mr. Townlinson + commented. “The estate would, of course, increase greatly in value.” + </p> + <p> + Circumstances had prevented her father from visiting Stornham, Miss + Vanderpoel explained, and this had led to his being ignorant of a + condition of things which he might have remedied. She did not explain what + the particular circumstances which had separated the families had been, + but Mr. Townlinson thought he understood. The condition existing could be + remedied now, if Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard saw no obstacles other + than scarcity of money. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Townlinson's summing up of the matter expressed in effect that he saw + none. The estate had been a fine one in its day. During the last sixty + years it had become much impoverished. With conservative decorum of + manner, he admitted that there had not been, since Sir Nigel's marriage, + sufficient reason for the neglect of dilapidations. The firm had strongly + represented to Sir Nigel that certain resources should not be diverted + from the proper object of restoring the property, which was entailed upon + his son. The son's future should beyond all have been considered in the + dispensing of his mother's fortune. + </p> + <p> + He, by this time, comprehended fully that he need restrain no dignified + expression of opinion in his speech with this young lady. She had come to + consult with him with as clear a view of the proprieties and discretions + demanded by his position as he had himself. And yet each, before the close + of the interview, understood the point of view of the other. What he + recognised was that, though she had not seen Sir Nigel since her + childhood, she had in some astonishing way obtained an extraordinary + insight into his character, and it was this which had led her to take her + present step. She might not realise all she might have to contend with, + but her conservative and formal action had surrounded her and her sister + with a certain barrier of conventional protection, at once + self-controlled, dignified, and astutely intelligent. + </p> + <p> + “Since, as you say, no structural changes are proposed, such as an + owner might resent, and as Lady Anstruthers is the mother of the heir, and + as Lady Anstruthers' father undertakes to defray all expenditure, no sane + man could object to the restoration of the property. To do so would be to + cause public opinion to express itself strongly against him. Such action + would place him grossly in the wrong.” Then he added with + deliberation, realising that he was committing himself, and feeling firmly + willing to do so for reasons of his own, “Sir Nigel is a man who + objects strongly to putting himself—publicly—in the wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + He had said this of intention for her enlightenment, and she was aware + that he had done so. + </p> + <p> + “This will not be the first time that American fortunes have + restored English estates,” Mr. Townlinson continued amiably. “There + have been many notable cases of late years. We shall be happy to place + ourselves at your disposal at all times, Miss Vanderpoel. We are obliged + to you for your consideration in the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Miss Vanderpoel again. “I wished to be + sure that I should not be infringing any English rule I had no knowledge + of.” + </p> + <p> + “You will be infringing none. You have been most correct and + courteous.” + </p> + <p> + Before she went away Mr. Townlinson felt that he had been greatly + enlightened as to what a young lady might know and be. She gave him + singularly clear details as to what was proposed. There was so much to be + done that he found himself opening his eyes slightly once or twice. But, + of course, if Mr. Vanderpoel was prepared to spend money in a lavish + manner, it was all to the good so far as the estate was concerned. They + were stupendous, these people, and after all the heir was his grandson. + And how striking it was that with all this power and readiness to use it, + was evidently combined, even in this beautiful young person, the clearest + business sense of the situation. What was done would be for the comfort of + Lady Anstruthers and the future of her son. Sir Nigel, being unable to + sell either house or lands, could not undo it. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Townlinson accompanied his visitor to her carriage with dignified + politeness he felt somewhat like an elderly solicitor who had found + himself drawn into the atmosphere of a sort of intensely modern fairy + tale. He saw two of his under clerks, with the impropriety of middle-class + youth, looking out of an office window at the dark blue brougham and the + tall young lady, whose beauty bloomed in the sunshine. He did not, on the + whole, wonder at, though he deplored, the conduct of the young men. But + they, of course, saw only what they colloquially described to each other + as a “rippin' handsome girl.” They knew nothing of the + interesting interview. + </p> + <p> + He himself returned to his private room in a musing mood and thought it + all over, his mind dwelling on various features of the international + situation, and more than once he said aloud: + </p> + <p> + “Most remarkable. Very remarkable, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FIFTEENTH EARL OF MOUNT DUNSTAN + </h3> + <p> + James Hubert John Fergus Saltyre—fifteenth Earl of Mount Dunstan, + “Jem Salter,” as his neighbours on the Western ranches had + called him, the red-haired, second-class passenger of the Meridiana, sat + in the great library of his desolate great house, and stared fixedly + through the open window at the lovely land spread out before him. From + this particular window was to be seen one of the greatest views in + England. From the upper nurseries he had lived in as a child he had seen + it every day from morning until night, and it had seemed to his young + fancy to cover all the plains of the earth. Surely the rest of the world, + he had thought, could be but small—though somewhere he knew there + was London where the Queen lived, and in London were Buckingham Palace and + St. James Palace and Kensington and the Tower, where heads had been + chopped off; and the Horse Guards, where splendid, plumed soldiers rode + forth glittering, with thrilling trumpets sounding as they moved. These + last he always remembered, because he had seen them, and once when he had + walked in the park with his nurse there had been an excited stir in the + Row, and people had crowded about a certain gate, through which an + escorted carriage had been driven, and he had been made at once to take + off his hat and stand bareheaded until it passed, because it was the + Queen. Somehow from that afternoon he dated the first presentation of + certain vaguely miserable ideas. Inquiries made of his attendant, when the + cortege had swept by, had elicited the fact that the Royal Lady herself + had children—little boys who were princes and little girls who were + princesses. What curious and persistent child cross-examination on his + part had drawn forth the fact that almost all the people who drove about + and looked so happy and brilliant, were the fathers or mothers of little + boys like, yet—in some mysterious way—unlike himself? And in + what manner had he gathered that he was different from them? His nurse, it + is true, was not a pleasant person, and had an injured and resentful + bearing. In later years he realised that it had been the bearing of an + irregularly paid menial, who rebelled against the fact that her place was + not among people who were of distinction and high repute, and whose + households bestowed a certain social status upon their servitors. She was + a tall woman with a sour face and a bearing which conveyed a glum + endurance of a position beneath her. Yes, it had been from her—Brough + her name was—that he had mysteriously gathered that he was not a + desirable charge, as regarded from the point of the servants' hall—or, + in fact, from any other point. His people were not the people whose + patronage was sought with anxious eagerness. For some reason their town + house was objectionable, and Mount Dunstan was without attractions. Other + big houses were, in some marked way, different. The town house he objected + to himself as being gloomy and ugly, and possessing only a bare and + battered nursery, from whose windows one could not even obtain a + satisfactory view of the Mews, where at least, there were horses and + grooms who hissed cheerfully while they curried and brushed them. He hated + the town house and was, in fact, very glad that he was scarcely ever taken + to it. People, it seemed, did not care to come either to the town house or + to Mount Dunstan. That was why he did not know other little boys. Again—for + the mysterious reason—people did not care that their children should + associate with him. How did he discover this? He never knew exactly. He + realised, however, that without distinct statements, he seemed to have + gathered it through various disconnected talks with Brough. She had not + remained with him long, having “bettered herself” greatly and + gone away in glum satisfaction, but she had stayed long enough to convey + to him things which became part of his existence, and smouldered in his + little soul until they became part of himself. The ancestors who had hewn + their way through their enemies with battle-axes, who had been fierce and + cruel and unconquerable in their savage pride, had handed down to him a + burning and unsubmissive soul. At six years old, walking with Brough in + Kensington Gardens, and seeing other children playing under the care of + nurses, who, he learned, were not inclined to make advances to his + attendant, he dragged Brough away with a fierce little hand and stood + apart with her, scowling haughtily, his head in the air, pretending that + he disdained all childish gambols, and would have declined to join in + them, even if he had been besought to so far unbend. Bitterness had been + planted in him then, though he had not understood, and the sourness of + Brough had been connected with no intelligence which might have caused her + to suspect his feelings, and no one had noticed, and if anyone had + noticed, no one would have cared in the very least. + </p> + <p> + When Brough had gone away to her far superior place, and she had been + succeeded by one variety of objectionable or incompetent person after + another, he had still continued to learn. In different ways he silently + collected information, and all of it was unpleasant, and, as he grew + older, it took for some years one form. Lack of resources, which should of + right belong to persons of rank, was the radical objection to his people. + At the town house there was no money, at Mount Dunstan there was no money. + There had been so little money even in his grandfather's time that his + father had inherited comparative beggary. The fourteenth Earl of Mount + Dunstan did not call it “comparative” beggary, he called it + beggary pure and simple, and cursed his progenitors with engaging + frankness. He never referred to the fact that in his personable youth he + had married a wife whose fortune, if it had not been squandered, might + have restored his own. The fortune had been squandered in the course of a + few years of riotous living, the wife had died when her third son was + born, which event took place ten years after the birth of her second, whom + she had lost through scarlet fever. James Hubert John Fergus Saltyre never + heard much of her, and barely knew of her past existence because in the + picture gallery he had seen a portrait of a tall, thin, fretful-looking + young lady, with light ringlets, and pearls round her neck. She had not + attracted him as a child, and the fact that he gathered that she had been + his mother left him entirely unmoved. She was not a loveable-looking + person, and, indeed, had been at once empty-headed, irritable, and + worldly. He would probably have been no less lonely if she had lived. + Lonely he was. His father was engaged in a career much too lively and + interesting to himself to admit of his allowing himself to be bored by an + unwanted and entirely superfluous child. The elder son, who was Lord + Tenham, had reached a premature and degenerate maturity by the time the + younger one made his belated appearance, and regarded him with unconcealed + dislike. The worst thing which could have befallen the younger boy would + have been intimate association with this degenerate youth. + </p> + <p> + As Saltyre left nursery days behind, he learned by degrees that the + objection to himself and his people, which had at first endeavoured to + explain itself as being the result of an unseemly lack of money, combined + with that unpleasant feature, an uglier one—namely, lack of decent + reputation. Angry duns, beggarliness of income, scarcity of the + necessaries and luxuries which dignity of rank demanded, the indifference + and slights of one's equals, and the ignoring of one's existence by + exalted persons, were all hideous enough to Lord Mount Dunstan and his + elder son—but they were not so hideous as was, to his younger son, + the childish, shamed frenzy of awakening to the truth that he was one of a + bad lot—a disgraceful lot, from whom nothing was expected but shifty + ways, low vices, and scandals, which in the end could not even be kept out + of the newspapers. The day came, in fact, when the worst of these was + seized upon by them and filled their sheets with matter which for a whole + season decent London avoided reading, and the fast and indecent element + laughed, derided, or gloated over. + </p> + <p> + The memory of the fever of the monstrous weeks which had passed at this + time was not one it was wise for a man to recall. But it was not to be + forgotten—the hasty midnight arrival at Mount Dunstan of father and + son, their haggard, nervous faces, their terrified discussions, and + argumentative raging when they were shut up together behind locked doors, + the appearance of legal advisers who looked as anxious as themselves, but + failed to conceal the disgust with which they were battling, the knowledge + that tongues were clacking almost hysterically in the village, and that + curious faces hurried to the windows when even a menial from the great + house passed, the atmosphere of below-stairs whispers, and jogged elbows, + and winks, and giggles; the final desperate, excited preparations for + flight, which might be ignominiously stopped at any moment by the + intervention of the law, the huddling away at night time, the hot-throated + fear that the shameful, self-branding move might be too late—the + burning humiliation of knowing the inevitable result of public contempt or + laughter when the world next day heard that the fugitives had put the + English Channel between themselves and their country's laws. + </p> + <p> + Lord Tenham had died a few years later at Port Said, after descending into + all the hells of degenerate debauch. His father had lived longer—long + enough to make of himself something horribly near an imbecile, before he + died suddenly in Paris. The Mount Dunstan who succeeded him, having spent + his childhood and boyhood under the shadow of the “bad lot,” + had the character of being a big, surly, unattractive young fellow, whose + eccentricity presented itself to those who knew his stock, as being of a + kind which might develop at any time into any objectionable tendency. His + bearing was not such as allured, and his fortune was not of the order + which placed a man in the view of the world. He had no money to expend, no + hospitalities to offer and apparently no disposition to connect himself + with society. His wild-goose chase to America had, when it had been + considered worth while discussing at all, been regarded as being very much + the kind of thing a Mount Dunstan might do with some secret and + disreputable end in view. No one had heard the exact truth, and no one + would have been inclined to believe if they had heard it. That he had + lived as plain Jem Salter, and laboured as any hind might have done, in + desperate effort and mad hope, would not have been regarded as a fact to + be credited. He had gone away, he had squandered money, he had returned, + he was at Mount Dunstan again, living the life of an objectionable recluse—objectionable, + because the owner of a place like Mount Dunstan should be a power and an + influence in the county, should be counted upon as a dispenser of + hospitalities, as a supporter of charities, as a dignitary of weight. He + was none of these—living no one knew how, slouching about with his + gun, riding or walking sullenly over the roads and marshland. + </p> + <p> + Just one man knew him intimately, and this one had been from his fifteenth + year the sole friend of his life. He had come, then—the Reverend + Lewis Penzance—a poor and unhealthy scholar, to be vicar of the + parish of Dunstan. Only a poor and book-absorbed man would have accepted + the position. What this man wanted was no more than quiet, pure country + air to fill frail lungs, a roof over his head, and a place to pore over + books and manuscripts. He was a born monk and celibate—in by-gone + centuries he would have lived peacefully in some monastery, spending his + years in the reading and writing of black letter and the illuminating of + missals. At the vicarage he could lead an existence which was almost the + same thing. + </p> + <p> + At Mount Dunstan there remained still the large remnant of a great + library. A huge room whose neglected and half emptied shelves contained + some strange things and wonderful ones, though all were in disorder, and + given up to dust and natural dilapidation. Inevitably the Reverend Lewis + Penzance had found his way there, inevitably he had gained indifferently + bestowed permission to entertain himself by endeavouring to reduce to + order and to make an attempt at cataloguing. Inevitably, also, the hours + he spent in the place became the chief sustenance of his being. + </p> + <p> + There, one day, he had come upon an uncouth-looking boy with deep eyes and + a shaggy crop of red hair. The boy was poring over an old volume, and was + plainly not disposed to leave it. He rose, not too graciously, and replied + to the elder man's greeting, and the friendly questions which followed. + Yes, he was the youngest son of the house. He had nothing to do, and he + liked the library. He often came there and sat and read things. There were + some queer old books and a lot of stupid ones. The book he was reading + now? Oh, that (with a slight reddening of his skin and a little + awkwardness at the admission) was one of those he liked best. It was one + of the queer ones, but interesting for all that. It was about their own + people—the generations of Mount Dunstans who had lived in the + centuries past. He supposed he liked it because there were a lot of odd + stories and exciting things in it. Plenty of fighting and adventure. There + had been some splendid fellows among them. (He was beginning to forget + himself a little by this time.) They were afraid of nothing. They were + rather like savages in the earliest days, but at that time all the rest of + the world was savage. But they were brave, and it was odd how decent they + were very often. What he meant was—what he liked was, that they were + men—even when they were barbarians. You couldn't be ashamed of them. + Things they did then could not be done now, because the world was + different, but if—well, the kind of men they were might do England a + lot of good if they were alive to-day. They would be different themselves, + of course, in one way—but they must be the same men in others. + Perhaps Mr. Penzance (reddening again) understood what he meant. He knew + himself very well, because he had thought it all out, he was always + thinking about it, but he was no good at explaining. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance was interested. His outlook on the past and the present had + always been that of a bookworm, but he understood enough to see that he + had come upon a temperament novel enough to awaken curiosity. The + apparently entirely neglected boy, of a type singularly unlike that of his + father and elder brother, living his life virtually alone in the big + place, and finding food to his taste in stories of those of his blood + whose dust had mingled with the earth centuries ago, provided him with a + new subject for reflection. + </p> + <p> + That had been the beginning of an unusual friendship. Gradually Penzance + had reached a clear understanding of all the building of the young life, + of its rankling humiliation, and the qualities of mind and body which made + for rebellion. It sometimes thrilled him to see in the big frame and + powerful muscles, in the strong nature and unconquerable spirit, a revival + of what had burned and stirred through lives lived in a dim, almost + mythical, past. There were legends of men with big bodies, fierce faces, + and red hair, who had done big deeds, and conquered in dark and barbarous + days, even Fate's self, as it had seemed. None could overthrow them, none + could stand before their determination to attain that which they chose to + claim. Students of heredity knew that there were curious instances of + revival of type. There had been a certain Red Godwyn who had ruled his + piece of England before the Conqueror came, and who had defied the + interloper with such splendid arrogance and superhuman lack of fear that + he had won in the end, strangely enough, the admiration and friendship of + the royal savage himself, who saw, in his, a kindred savagery, a power to + be well ranged, through love, if not through fear, upon his own side. This + Godwyn had a deep attraction for his descendant, who knew the whole story + of his fierce life—as told in one yellow manuscript and another—by + heart. Why might not one fancy—Penzance was drawn by the imagining—this + strong thing reborn, even as the offspring of a poorer effete type. Red + Godwyn springing into being again, had been stronger than all else, and + had swept weakness before him as he had done in other and far-off days. + </p> + <p> + In the old library it fell out in time that Penzance and the boy spent the + greater part of their days. The man was a bookworm and a scholar, young + Saltyre had a passion for knowledge. Among the old books and manuscripts + he gained a singular education. Without a guide he could not have gathered + and assimilated all he did gather and assimilate. Together the two + rummaged forgotten shelves and chests, and found forgotten things. That + which had drawn the boy from the first always drew and absorbed him—the + annals of his own people. Many a long winter evening the pair turned over + the pages of volumes and of parchment, and followed with eager interest + and curiosity the records of wild lives—stories of warriors and + abbots and bards, of feudal lords at ruthless war with each other, of + besiegings and battles and captives and torments. Legends there were of + small kingdoms torn asunder, of the slaughter of their kings, the mad + fightings of their barons, and the faith or unfaith of their serfs. Here + and there the eternal power revealed itself in some story of lawful or + unlawful love—for dame or damsel, royal lady, abbess, or high-born + nun—ending in the welding of two lives or in rapine, violence, and + death. There were annals of early England, and of marauders, monks, and + Danes. And, through all these, some thing, some man or woman, place, or + strife linked by some tie with Mount Dunstan blood. In past generations, + it seemed plain, there had been certain of the line who had had pride in + these records, and had sought and collected them; then had been born + others who had not cared. Sometimes the relations were inadequate, + sometimes they wore an unauthentic air, but most of them seemed, even + after the passing of centuries, human documents, and together built a + marvellous great drama of life and power, wickedness and passion and + daring deeds. + </p> + <p> + When the shameful scandal burst forth young Saltyre was seen by neither + his father nor his brother. Neither of them had any desire to see him; in + fact, each detested the idea of confronting by any chance his hot, + intolerant eyes. “The Brat,” his father had called him in his + childhood, “The Lout,” when he had grown big-limbed and + clumsy. Both he and Tenham were sick enough, without being called upon to + contemplate “The Lout,” whose opinion, in any case, they + preferred not to hear. + </p> + <p> + Saltyre, during the hideous days, shut himself up in the library. He did + not leave the house, even for exercise, until after the pair had fled. His + exercise he took in walking up and down from one end of the long room to + another. Devils were let loose in him. When Penzance came to him, he saw + their fury in his eyes, and heard it in the savagery of his laugh. + </p> + <p> + He kicked an ancient volume out of his way as he strode to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “There has been plenty of the blood of the beast in us in bygone + times,” he said, “but it was not like this. Savagery in savage + days had its excuse. This is the beast sunk into the gibbering, degenerate + ape.” + </p> + <p> + Penzance came and spent hours of each day with him. Part of his rage was + the rage of a man, but he was a boy still, and the boyishness of his + bitterly hurt youth was a thing to move to pity. With young blood, and + young pride, and young expectancy rising within him, he was at an hour + when he should have felt himself standing upon the threshold of the world, + gazing out at the splendid joys and promises and powerful deeds of it—waiting + only the fit moment to step forth and win his place. + </p> + <p> + “But we are done for,” he shouted once. “We are done + for. And I am as much done for as they are. Decent people won't touch us. + That is where the last Mount Dunstan stands.” And Penzance heard in + his voice an absolute break. He stopped and marched to the window at the + end of the long room, and stood in dead stillness, staring out at the + down-sweeping lines of heavy rain. + </p> + <p> + The older man thought many things, as he looked at his big back and body. + He stood with his legs astride, and Penzance noted that his right hand was + clenched on his hip, as a man's might be as he clenched the hilt of his + sword—his one mate who might avenge him even when, standing at bay, + he knew that the end had come, and he must fall. Primeval Force—the + thin-faced, narrow-chested, slightly bald clergyman of the Church of + England was thinking—never loses its way, or fails to sweep a path + before it. The sun rises and sets, the seasons come and go, Primeval Force + is of them, and as unchangeable. Much of it stood before him embodied in + this strongly sentient thing. In this way the Reverend Lewis found his + thoughts leading him, and he—being moved to the depths of a fine + soul—felt them profoundly interesting, and even sustaining. + </p> + <p> + He sat in a high-backed chair, holding its arms with long thin hands, and + looking for some time at James Hubert John Fergus Saltyre. He said, at + last, in a sane level voice: + </p> + <p> + “Lord Tenham is not the last Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + After which the stillness remained unbroken again for some minutes. + Saltyre did not move or make any response, and, when he left his place at + the window, he took up a book, and they spoke of other things. + </p> + <p> + When the fourteenth Earl died in Paris, and his younger son succeeded, + there came a time when the two companions sat together in the library + again. It was the evening of a long day spent in discouraging hard work. + In the morning they had ridden side by side over the estate, in the + afternoon they had sat and pored over accounts, leases, maps, plans. By + nightfall both were fagged and neither in sanguine mood. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan had sat silent for some time. The pair often sat silent. + This pause was ended by the young man's rising and standing up, stretching + his limbs. + </p> + <p> + “It was a queer thing you said to me in this room a few years ago,” + he said. “It has just come back to me.” + </p> + <p> + Singularly enough—or perhaps naturally enough—it had also just + arisen again from the depths of Penzance's subconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, “I remember. To-night it suggests + premonition. Your brother was not the last Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + “In one sense he never was Mount Dunstan at all,” answered the + other man. Then he suddenly threw out his arms in a gesture whose whole + significance it would have been difficult to describe. There was a kind of + passion in it. “I am the last Mount Dunstan,” he harshly + laughed. “Moi qui vous parle! The last.” + </p> + <p> + Penzance's eyes resting on him took upon themselves the far-seeing look of + a man who watches the world of life without living in it. He presently + shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said. “I don't see that. No—not the last. + Believe me.” + </p> + <p> + And singularly, in truth, Mount Dunstan stood still and gazed at him + without speaking. The eyes of each rested in the eyes of the other. And, + as had happened before, they followed the subject no further. From that + moment it dropped. + </p> + <p> + Only Penzance had known of his reasons for going to America. Even the + family solicitors, gravely holding interviews with him and restraining + expression of their absolute disapproval of such employment of his + inadequate resources, knew no more than that this Mount Dunstan, instead + of wasting his beggarly income at Cairo, or Monte Carlo, or in Paris as + the last one had done, prefers to waste it in newer places. The head of + the firm, when he bids him good-morning and leaves him alone, merely + shrugs his shoulders and returns to his letter writing with the corners of + his elderly mouth hard set. + </p> + <p> + Penzance saw him off—and met him upon his return. In the library + they sat and talked it over, and, having done so, closed the book of the + episode. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + He sat at the table, his eyes upon the wide-spread loveliness of the + landscape, but his thought elsewhere. It wandered over the years already + lived through, wandering backwards even to the days when existence, + opening before the child eyes, was a baffling and vaguely unhappy thing. + </p> + <p> + When the door opened and Penzance was ushered in by a servant, his face + wore the look his friend would have been rejoiced to see swept away to + return no more. + </p> + <p> + Then let us take our old accustomed seat and begin some casual talk, which + will draw him out of the shadows, and make him forget such things as it is + not good to remember. That is what we have done many times in the past, + and may find it well to do many a time again. + </p> + <p> + He begins with talk of the village and the country-side. Village stories + are often quaint, and stories of the countryside are sometimes—not + always—interesting. Tom Benson's wife has presented him with + triplets, and there is great excitement in the village, as to the steps to + be taken to secure the three guineas given by the Queen as a reward for + this feat. Old Benny Bates has announced his intention of taking a fifth + wife at the age of ninety, and is indignant that it has been suggested + that the parochial authorities in charge of the “Union,” in + which he must inevitably shortly take refuge, may interfere with his + rights as a citizen. The Reverend Lewis has been to talk seriously with + him, and finds him at once irate and obdurate. + </p> + <p> + “Vicar,” says old Benny, “he can't refuse to marry no + man. Law won't let him.” Such refusal, he intimates, might drive him + to wild and riotous living. Remembering his last view of old Benny + tottering down the village street in his white smock, his nut-cracker face + like a withered rosy apple, his gnarled hand grasping the knotted staff + his bent body leaned on, Mount Dunstan grinned a little. He did not smile + when Penzance passed to the restoration of the ancient church at + Mellowdene. “Restoration” usually meant the tearing away of + ancient oaken, high-backed pews, and the instalment of smug new benches, + suggesting suburban Dissenting chapels, such as the feudal soul revolts + at. Neither did he smile at a reference to the gathering at Dunholm + Castle, which was twelve miles away. Dunholm was the possession of a man + who stood for all that was first and highest in the land, dignity, + learning, exalted character, generosity, honour. He and the late Lord + Mount Dunstan had been born in the same year, and had succeeded to their + titles almost at the same time. There had arrived a period when they had + ceased to know each other. All that the one man intrinsically was, the + other man was not. All that the one estate, its castle, its village, its + tenantry, represented, was the antipodes of that which the other stood + for. The one possession held its place a silent, and perhaps, unconscious + reproach to the other. Among the guests, forming the large house party + which London social news had already recorded in its columns, were great + and honourable persons, and interesting ones, men and women who counted as + factors in all good and dignified things accomplished. Even in the present + Mount Dunstan's childhood, people of their world had ceased to cross his + father's threshold. As one or two of the most noticeable names were + mentioned, mentally he recalled this, and Penzance, quick to see the + thought in his eyes, changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + “At Stornham village an unexpected thing has happened,” he + said. “One of the relatives of Lady Anstruthers has suddenly + appeared—a sister. You may remember that the poor woman was said to + be the daughter of some rich American, and it seemed unexplainable that + none of her family ever appeared, and things were allowed to go from bad + to worse. As it was understood that there was so much money people were + mystified by the condition of things.” + </p> + <p> + “Anstruthers has had money to squander,” said Mount Dunstan. + “Tenham and he were intimates. The money he spends is no doubt his + wife's. As her family deserted her she has no one to defend her.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly her family has seemed to neglect her for years. Perhaps + they were disappointed in his position. Many Americans are extremely + ambitious. These international marriages are often singular things. Now—apparently + without having been expected—the sister appears. Vanderpoel is the + name—Miss Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + “I crossed the Atlantic with her in the Meridiana,” said Mount + Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! That is interesting. You did not, of course, know that she + was coming here.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew nothing of her but that she was a saloon passenger with a + suite of staterooms, and I was in the second cabin. Nothing? That is not + quite true, perhaps. Stewards and passengers gossip, and one cannot close + one's ears. Of course one heard constant reiteration of the number of + millions her father possessed, and the number of cabins she managed to + occupy. During the confusion and alarm of the collision, we spoke to each + other.” + </p> + <p> + He did not mention the other occasion on which he had seen her. There + seemed, on the whole, no special reason why he should. + </p> + <p> + “Then you would recognise her, if you saw her. I heard to-day that + she seems an unusual young woman, and has beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Her eyes and lashes are remarkable. She is tall. The Americans are + setting up a new type.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they used to send over slender, fragile little women. Lady + Anstruthers was the type. I confess to an interest in the sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “She has made a curious impression. She has begun to do things. + Stornham village has lost its breath.” He laughed a little. “She + has been going over the place and discussing repairs.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan laughed also. He remembered what she had said. And she had + actually begun. + </p> + <p> + “That is practical,” he commented. + </p> + <p> + “It is really interesting. Why should a young woman turn her + attention to repairs? If it had been her father—the omnipotent Mr. + Vanderpoel—who had appeared, one would not have wondered at such + practical activity. But a young lady—with remarkable eyelashes!” + </p> + <p> + His elbows were on the arm of his chair, and he had placed the tips of his + fingers together, wearing an expression of such absorbed contemplation + that Mount Dunstan laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “You look quite dreamy over it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It allures me. Unknown quantities in character always allure me. I + should like to know her. A community like this is made up of the + absolutely known quantity—of types repeating themselves through + centuries. A new one is almost a startling thing. Gossip over teacups is + not usually entertaining to me, but I found myself listening to little + Miss Laura Brunel this afternoon with rather marked attention. I confess + to having gone so far as to make an inquiry or so. Sir Nigel Anstruthers + is not often at Stornham. He is away now. It is plainly not he who is + interested in repairs.” + </p> + <p> + “He is on the Riviera, in retreat, in a place he is fond of,” + Mount Dunstan said drily. “He took a companion with him. A new + infatuation. He will not return soon.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <h3> + SPRING IN BOND STREET + </h3> + <p> + The visit to London was part of an evolution of both body and mind to + Rosalie Anstruthers. In one of the wonderful modern hotels a suite of + rooms was engaged for them. The luxury which surrounded them was not of + the order Rosalie had vaguely connected with hotels. Hotel-keepers had + apparently learned many things during the years of her seclusion. + </p> + <p> + Vanderpoels, at least, could so establish themselves as not to greatly + feel the hotel atmosphere. Carefully chosen colours textures, and + appointments formed the background of their days, the food they ate was a + thing produced by art, the servants who attended them were + completely-trained mechanisms. To sit by a window and watch the + kaleidoscopic human tide passing by on its way to its pleasure, to reach + its work, to spend its money in unending shops, to show itself and its + equipage in the park, was a wonderful thing to Lady Anstruthers. It all + seemed to be a part of the life and quality of Betty, little Betty, whom + she had remembered only as a child, and who had come to her a tall, strong + young beauty, who had—it was resplendently clear—never known a + fear in her life, and whose mere personality had the effect of making + fears seem unreal. + </p> + <p> + She was taken out in a luxurious little brougham to shops whose varied + allurements were placed eagerly at her disposal. Respectful persons, + obedient to her most faintly-expressed desire, displayed garments as + wonderful as those the New York trunks had revealed. She was besought to + consider the fitness of articles whose exquisiteness she was almost afraid + to look at. Her thin little body was wonderfully fitted, managed, + encouraged to make the most of its long-ignored outlines. + </p> + <p> + “Her ladyship's slenderness is a great advantage,” said the + wisely inciting ones. “There is no such advantage as delicacy of + line.” + </p> + <p> + Summing up the character of their customer with the saleswoman's eye, they + realised the discretion of turning to Miss Vanderpoel for encouragement, + though she was the younger of the two, and bore no title. They were aware + of the existence of persons of rank who were not lavish patrons, but the + name of Vanderpoel held most promising suggestions. To an English + shopkeeper the American has, of late years, represented the spender—the + type which, whatsoever its rank and resources, has, mysteriously, always + money to hand over counters in exchange for things it chances to desire to + possess. Each year surges across the Atlantic a horde of these fortunate + persons, who, to the sober, commercial British mind, appear to be free to + devote their existences to travel and expenditure. This contingent appears + shopping in the various shopping thoroughfares; it buys clothes, jewels, + miscellaneous attractive things, making its purchases of articles useful + or decorative with a freedom from anxiety in its enjoyment which does not + mark the mood of the ordinary shopper. In the everyday purchaser one is + accustomed to take for granted, as a factor in his expenditure, a certain + deliberation and uncertainty; to the travelling American in Europe, + shopping appears to be part of the holiday which is being made the most + of. Surely, all the neat, smart young persons who buy frocks and blouses, + hats and coats, hosiery and chains, cannot be the possessors of large + incomes; there must be, even in America, a middle class of middle-class + resources, yet these young persons, male and female, and most frequently + unaccompanied by older persons—seeing what they want, greet it with + expressions of pleasure, waste no time in appropriating and paying for it, + and go away as in relief and triumph—not as in that sober joy which + is clouded by afterthought. The sales people are sometimes even vaguely + cheered by their gay lack of any doubt as to the wisdom of their getting + what they admire, and rejoicing in it. If America always buys in this + holiday mood, it must be an enviable thing to be a shopkeeper in their New + York or Boston or San Francisco. Who would not make a fortune among them? + They want what they want, and not something which seems to them less + desirable, but they open their purses and—frequently with some + amused uncertainty as to the differences between sovereigns and + half-sovereigns, florins and half-crowns—they pay their bills with + something almost like glee. They are remarkably prompt about bills—which + is an excellent thing, as they are nearly always just going somewhere + else, to France or Germany or Italy or Scotland or Siberia. Those of us + who are shopkeepers, or their salesmen, do not dream that some of them + have incomes no larger than our own, that they work for their livings, + that they are teachers journalists, small writers or illustrators of + papers or magazines that they are unimportant soldiers of fortune, but, + with their queer American insistence on exploration, and the ignoring of + limitations, they have, somehow, managed to make this exultant dash for a + few daring weeks or months of freedom and new experience. If we knew this, + we should regard them from our conservative standpoint of provident + decorum as improvident lunatics, being ourselves unable to calculate with + their odd courage and their cheerful belief in themselves. What we do know + is that they spend, and we are far from disdaining their patronage, though + most of them have an odd little familiarity of address and are not stamped + with that distinction which causes us to realise the enormous difference + between the patron and the tradesman, and makes us feel the worm we + remotely like to feel ourselves, though we would not for worlds + acknowledge the fact. Mentally, and in our speech, both among our equals + and our superiors, we condescend to and patronise them a little, though + that, of course, is the fine old insular attitude it would be un-British + to discourage. But, if we are not in the least definite concerning the + position and resources of these spenders as a mass, we are quite sure of a + select number. There is mention of them in the newspapers, of the town + houses, the castles, moors, and salmon fishings they rent, of their + yachts, their presentations actually at our own courts, of their presence + at great balls, at Ascot and Goodwood, at the opera on gala nights. One + staggers sometimes before the public summing-up of the amount of their + fortunes. These people who have neither blood nor rank, these men who + labour in their business offices, are richer than our great dukes, at the + realising of whose wealth and possessions we have at times almost turned + pale. + </p> + <p> + “Them!” chaffed a costermonger over his barrow. “Blimme, + if some o' them blokes won't buy Buckin'am Pallis an' the 'ole R'yal + Fambly some mornin' when they're out shoppin'.” + </p> + <p> + The subservient attendants in more than one fashionable shop Betty and her + sister visit, know that Miss Vanderpoel is of the circle, though her + father has not as yet bought or hired any great estate, and his daughter + has not been seen in London. + </p> + <p> + “Its queer we've never heard of her being presented,” one + shopgirl says to another. “Just you look at her.” + </p> + <p> + She evidently knows what her ladyship ought to buy—what can be + trusted not to overpower her faded fragility. The saleswomen, even if they + had not been devoured by alert curiosity, could not have avoided seeing + that her ladyship did not seem to know what should be bought, and that + Miss Vanderpoel did, though she did not direct her sister's selection, but + merely seemed to suggest with delicate restraint. Her taste was + wonderfully perceptive. The things bought were exquisite, but a little + colourless woman could wear them all with advantage to her restrictions of + type. + </p> + <p> + As the brougham drove down Bond Street, Betty called Lady Anstruthers' + attention to more than one passer-by. + </p> + <p> + “Look, Rosy,” she said. “There is Mrs. Treat Hilyar in + the second carriage to the right. You remember Josie Treat Hilyar married + Lord Varick's son.” + </p> + <p> + In the landau designated an elderly woman with wonderfully-dressed white + hair sat smiling and bowing to friends who were walking. Lady Anstruthers, + despite her eagerness, shrank back a little, hoping to escape being seen. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is the Lows she is speaking to—Tom and Alice—I + did not know they had sailed yet.” + </p> + <p> + The tall, well-groomed young man, with the nice, ugly face, was showing + white teeth in a gay smile of recognition, and his pretty wife was lightly + waving a slim hand in a grey suede glove. + </p> + <p> + “How cheerful and nice-tempered they look,” said Rosy. “Tom + was only twenty when I saw him last. Whom did he marry?” + </p> + <p> + “An English girl. Such a love. A Devonshire gentleman's daughter. In + New York his friends called her Devonshire Cream and Roses. She is one of + the pretty, flushy, pink ones.” + </p> + <p> + “How nice Bond Street is on a spring morning like this,” said + Lady Anstruthers. “You may laugh at me for saying it, Betty, but + somehow it seems to me more spring-like than the country.” + </p> + <p> + “How clever of you!” laughed Betty. “There is so much + truth in it.” The people walking in the sunshine were all full of + spring thoughts and plans. The colours they wore, the flowers in the + women's hats and the men's buttonholes belonged to the season. The + cheerful crowds of people and carriages had a sort of rushing stir of + movement which suggested freshness. Later in the year everything looks + more tired. Now things were beginning and everyone was rather inclined to + believe that this year would be better than last. “Look at the shop + windows,” said Betty, “full of whites and pinks and yellows + and blues—the colours of hyacinth and daffodil beds. It seems as if + they insist that there never has been a winter and never will be one. They + insist that there never was and never will be anything but spring.” + </p> + <p> + “It's in the air.” Lady Anstruthers' sigh was actually a happy + one. “It is just what I used to feel in April when we drove down + Fifth Avenue.” + </p> + <p> + Among the crowds of freshly-dressed passers-by, women with flowery hats + and light frocks and parasols, men with touches of flower-colour on the + lapels of their coats, and the holiday look in their faces, she noted so + many of a familiar type that she began to look for and try to pick them + out with quite excited interest. + </p> + <p> + “I believe that woman is an American,” she would say. “That + girl looks as if she were a New Yorker,” again. “That man's + face looks as if it belonged to Broadway. Oh, Betty! do you think I am + right? I should say those girls getting out of the hansom to go into + Burnham & Staples' came from out West and are going to buy thousands + of things. Don't they look like it?” + </p> + <p> + She began to lean forward and look on at things with an interest so unlike + her Stornham listlessness that Betty's heart was moved. + </p> + <p> + Her face looked alive, and little waves of colour rose under her skin. + Several times she laughed the natural little laugh of her girlhood which + it had seemed almost too much to expect to hear again. The first of these + laughs came when she counted her tenth American, a tall Westerner of the + cartoon type, sauntering along with an expression of speculative enjoyment + on his odd face, and evidently, though furtively, chewing tobacco. + </p> + <p> + “I absolutely love him, Betty,” she cried. “You couldn't + mistake him for anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Betty, feeling that she loved him herself, + “not if you found him embalmed in the Pyramids.” + </p> + <p> + They pleased themselves immensely, trying to guess what he would buy and + take home to his wife and girls in his Western town—though Western + towns were very grand and amazing in these days, Betty explained, and knew + they could give points to New York. He would not buy the things he would + have bought fifteen years ago. Perhaps, in fact, his wife and daughters + had come with him to London and stayed at the Metropole or the Savoy, and + were at this moment being fitted by tailors and modistes patronised by + Royalty. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy, look! Do you see who that is? Do you recognise her? It is + Mrs. Bellingham. She was little Mina Thalberg. She married Captain + Bellingham. He was quite poor, but very well born—a nephew of Lord + Dunholm's. He could not have married a poor girl—but they have been + so happy together that Mina is growing fat, and spends her days in taking + reducing treatments. She says she wouldn't care in the least, but Dicky + fell in love with her waist and shoulder line.” + </p> + <p> + The plump, pretty young woman getting out of her victoria before a + fashionable hairdresser's looked radiant enough. She had not yet lost the + waist and shoulder line, though her pink frock fitted her with discreet + tightness. She paused a moment to pat and fuss prettily over the two + blooming, curly children who were to remain under the care of the nurse, + who sat on the back seat, holding the baby on her lap. + </p> + <p> + “I should not have known her,” said Rosy. “She has grown + pretty. She wasn't a pretty child.” + </p> + <p> + “It's happiness—and the English climate—and Captain + Dicky. They adore each other, and laugh at everything like a pair of + children. They were immensely popular in New York last winter, when they + visited Mina's people.” + </p> + <p> + The effect of the morning upon Lady Anstruthers was what Betty had hoped + it might be. The curious drawing near of the two nations began to dawn + upon her as a truth. Immured in the country, not sufficiently interested + in life to read newspapers, she had heard rumours of some of the more + important marriages, but had known nothing of the thousand small details + which made for the weaving of the web. Mrs. Treat Hilyar driving in a + leisurely, accustomed fashion down Bond Street, and smiling casually at + her compatriots, whose “sailing” was as much part of the + natural order of their luxurious lives as their carriages, gave a + definiteness to the situation. Mina Thalberg, pulling down the embroidered + frocks over the round legs of her English-looking children, seemed to + narrow the width of the Atlantic Ocean between Liverpool and the docks on + the Hudson River. + </p> + <p> + She returned to the hotel with an appetite for lunch and a new expression + in her eyes which made Ughtred stare at her. + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” he said, “you look different. You look well. + It isn't only your new dress and your hair.” + </p> + <p> + The new style of her attire had certainly done much, and the maid who had + been engaged to attend her was a woman who knew her duties. She had been + called upon in her time to make the most of hair offering much less + assistance to her skill than was supplied by the fine, fair colourlessness + she had found dragged back from her new mistress's forehead. It was not + dragged back now, but had really been done wonders with. Rosalie had + smiled a little when she had looked at herself in the glass after the + first time it was so dressed. + </p> + <p> + “You are trying to make me look as I did when mother saw me last, + Betty,” she said. “I wonder if you possibly could.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us believe we can,” laughed Betty. “And wait and + see.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed wise neither to make nor receive visits. The time for such + things had evidently not yet come. Even the mention of the Worthingtons + led to the revelation that Rosalie shrank from immediate contact with + people. When she felt stronger, when she became more accustomed to the + thought, she might feel differently, but just now, to be luxuriously one + with the enviable part of London, to look on, to drink in, to drive here + and there, doing the things she liked to do, ordering what was required at + Stornham, was like the creating for her of a new heaven and a new earth. + </p> + <p> + When, one night, Betty took her with Ughtred to the theatre, it was to see + a play written by an American, played by American actors, produced by an + American manager. They had even engaged in theatrical enterprise, it + seemed, their actors played before London audiences, London actors played + in American theatres, vibrating almost yearly between the two continents + and reaping rich harvests. Hearing rumours of this in the past, Lady + Anstruthers had scarcely believed it entirely true. Now the practical + reality was brought before her. The French, who were only separated from + the English metropolis by a mere few miles of Channel, did not exchange + their actors year after year in increasing numbers, making a mere friendly + barter of each other's territory, as though each land was common ground + and not divided by leagues of ocean travel. + </p> + <p> + “It seems so wonderful,” Lady Anstruthers argued. “I + have always felt as if they hated each other.” + </p> + <p> + “They did once—but how could it last between those of the same + blood—of the same tongue? If we were really aliens we might be a + menace. But we are of their own.” Betty leaned forward on the edge + of the box, looking out over the crowded house, filled with almost as many + Americans as English faces. She smiled, reflecting. “We were + children put out to nurse and breathe new air in the country, and now we + are coming home, vigorous, and full-grown.” + </p> + <p> + She studied the audience for some minutes, and, as her glance wandered + over the stalls, it took in more than one marked variety of type. Suddenly + it fell on a face she delightedly recognised. It was that of the nice, + speculative-eyed Westerner they had seen enjoying himself in Bond Street. + </p> + <p> + “Rosy,” she said, “there is the Western man we love. + Near the end of the fourth row.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers looked for him with eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see him! Next to the big one with the reddish hair.” + </p> + <p> + Betty turned her attention to the man in question, whom she had not + chanced to notice. She uttered an exclamation of surprise and interest. + </p> + <p> + “The big man with the red hair. How lovely that they should chance + to sit side by side—the big one is Lord Mount Dunstan!” + </p> + <p> + The necessity of seeing his solicitors, who happened to be Messrs. + Townlinson & Sheppard, had brought Lord Mount Dunstan to town. After a + day devoted to business affairs, he had been attracted by the idea of + going to the theatre to see again a play he had already seen in New York. + It would interest him to observe its exact effect upon a London audience. + While he had been in New York, he had gone with something of the same + feeling to see a great English actor play to a crowded house. The great + actor had been one who had returned to the country for a third or fourth + time, and, in the enthusiasm he had felt in the atmosphere about him, + Mount Dunstan had seen not only pleasure and appreciation of the man's + perfect art, but—at certain tumultuous outbursts—an almost + emotional welcome. The Americans, he had said to himself, were creatures + of warmer blood than the English. The audience on that occasion had been, + in mass, American. The audience he made one of now, was made up of both + nationalities, and, in glancing over it, he realised how large was the + number of Americans who came yearly to London. As Lady Anstruthers had + done, he found himself selecting from the assemblage the types which were + manifestly American, and those obviously English. In the seat next to + himself sat a man of a type he felt he had learned by heart in the days of + his life as Jem Salter. At a short distance fluttered brilliantly an + English professional beauty, with her male and female court about her. In + the stage box, made sumptuous with flowers, was a royal party. + </p> + <p> + As this party had entered, “God save the Queen” had been + played, and, in rising with the audience during the entry, he had recalled + that the tune was identical with that of an American national air. How + unconsciously inseparable—in spite of the lightness with which they + regarded the curious tie between them—the two countries were. The + people upon the stage were acting as if they knew their public, their + bearing suggesting no sense of any barrier beyond the footlights. It was + the unconsciousness and lightness of the mutual attitude which had struck + him of late. Punch had long jested about “Fair Americans,” + who, in their first introduction to its pages, used exotic and cryptic + language, beginning every sentence either with “I guess,” or + “Say, Stranger”; its male American had been of the Uncle Sam + order and had invariably worn a “goatee.” American witticisms + had represented the Englishman in plaid trousers, opening his remarks with + “Chawley, deah fellah,” and unfailingly missing the point of + any joke. Each country had cherished its type and good-naturedly derided + it. In time this had modified itself and the joke had changed in kind. + Many other things had changed, but the lightness of treatment still + remained. And yet their blood was mingling itself with that of England's + noblest and oldest of name, their wealth was making solid again towers and + halls which had threatened to crumble. Ancient family jewels glittered on + slender, young American necks, and above—sometimes somewhat careless—young + American brows. And yet, so far, one was casual in one's thought of it + all, still. On his own part he was obstinate Briton enough to rebel + against and resent it. They were intruders. He resented them as he had + resented in his boyhood the historical fact that, after all, an Englishman + was a German—a savage who, five hundred years after the birth of + Christ, had swooped upon Early Briton from his Engleland and Jutland, and + ravaging with fire and sword, had conquered and made the land his + possession, ravishing its very name from it and giving it his own. These + people did not come with fire and sword, but with cable and telephone, and + bribes of gold and fair women, but they were encroaching like the sea, + which, in certain parts of the coast, gained a few inches or so each year. + He shook his shoulders impatiently, and stiffened, feeling illogically + antagonistic towards the good-natured, lantern-jawed man at his side. + </p> + <p> + The lantern-jawed man looked good-natured because he was smiling, and he + was smiling because he saw something which pleased him in one of the + boxes. + </p> + <p> + His expression of unqualified approval naturally directed Mount Dunstan's + eye to the point in question, where it remained for some moments. This was + because he found it resting upon Miss Vanderpoel, who sat before him in + luminous white garments, and with a brilliant spark of ornament in the + dense shadow of her hair. His sensation at the unexpected sight of her + would, if it had expressed itself physically, have taken the form of a + slight start. The luminous quality did not confine itself to the whiteness + of her garments. He was aware of feeling that she looked luminous herself—her + eyes, her cheek, the smile she bent upon the little woman who was her + companion. She was a beautifully living thing. + </p> + <p> + Naturally, she was being looked at by others than himself. She was one of + those towards whom glasses in a theatre turn themselves inevitably. The + sweep and lift of her black hair would have drawn them, even if she had + offered no other charm. Yes, he thought, here was another of them. To whom + was she bringing her good looks and her millions? There were men enough + who needed money, even if they must accept it under less alluring + conditions. In the box next to the one occupied by the royal party was a + man who was known to be waiting for the advent of some such opportunity. + His was a case of dire, if outwardly stately, need. He was young, but a + fool, and not noted for personal charms, yet he had, in one sense, great + things to offer. There were, of course, many chances that he might offer + them to her. If this happened, would she accept them? There was really no + objection to him but his dulness, consequently there seemed many chances + that she might. There was something akin to the pomp of royalty in the + power her father's wealth implied. She could scarcely make an ordinary + marriage. It would naturally be a sort of state affair. There were few men + who had enough to offer in exchange for Vanderpoel millions, and of the + few none had special attractions. The one in the box next to the royal + party was a decent enough fellow. As young princesses were not + infrequently called upon, by the mere exclusion of royal blood, to become + united to young or mature princes without charm, so American young persons + who were of royal possessions must find themselves limited. If you felt + free to pick and choose from among young men in the Guards or young + attaches in the Diplomatic Service with twopence a year, you might get + beauty or wit or temperament or all three by good luck, but if you were of + a royal house of New York or Chicago, you would probably feel you must + draw lines and choose only such splendours as accorded with, even while + differing from, your own. + </p> + <p> + Any possible connection of himself with such a case did not present itself + to him. If it had done so, he would have counted himself, haughtily, as + beyond the pale. It was for other men to do things of the sort; a remote + antagonism of his whole being warred against the mere idea. It was bigoted + prejudice, perhaps, but it was a strong thing. + </p> + <p> + A lovely shoulder and a brilliant head set on a long and slender neck have + no nationality which can prevent a man's glance turning naturally towards + them. His turned again during the last act of the play, and at a moment + when he saw something rather like the thing he had seen when the Meridiana + moved away from the dock and the exalted Miss Vanderpoel leaning upon the + rail had held out her arms towards the child who had brought his toy to + her as a farewell offering. + </p> + <p> + Sitting by her to-night was a boy with a crooked back—Mount Dunstan + remembered hearing that the Anstruthers had a deformed son—and she + was leaning towards him, her hand resting on his shoulder, explaining + something he had not quite grasped in the action of the play. The absolute + adoration in the boy's uplifted eyes was an interesting thing to take in, + and the radiant warmth of her bright look was as unconscious of onlookers + as it had been when he had seen it yearning towards the child on the + wharf. Hers was the temperament which gave—which gave. He found + himself restraining a smile because her look brought back to him the + actual sound of the New York youngster's voice. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to kiss you, Betty, oh, I did so want to kiss you!” + </p> + <p> + Anstruthers' boy—poor little beggar—looked as if he, too, in + the face of actors and audience, and brilliance of light, wanted to kiss + her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <h3> + THINGS OCCUR IN STORNHAM VILLAGE + </h3> + <p> + It would not have been possible for Miss Vanderpoel to remain long in + social seclusion in London, and, before many days had passed, Stornham + village was enlivened by the knowledge that her ladyship and her sister + had returned to the Court. It was also evident that their visit to London + had not been made to no purpose. The stagnation of the waters of village + life threatened to become a whirlpool. A respectable person, who was to be + her ladyship's maid, had come with them, and her ladyship had not been + served by a personal attendant for years. Her ladyship had also appeared + at the dinner-table in new garments, and with her hair done as other + ladies wore theirs. She looked like a different woman, and actually had a + bit of colour, and was beginning to lose her frightened way. Now it dawned + upon even the dullest and least active mind that something had begun to + stir. + </p> + <p> + It had been felt vaguely when the new young lady from “Meriker” + had walked through the village street, and had drawn people to doors and + windows by her mere passing. After the return from London the signs of + activity were such as made the villagers catch their breaths in uttering + uncertain exclamations, and caused the feminine element to catch up + offspring or, dragging it by its hand, run into neighbours' cottages and + stand talking the incredible thing over in lowered and rather breathless + voices. Yet the incredible thing in question was—had it been seen + from the standpoint of more prosperous villagers—anything but + extraordinary. In entirely rural places the Castle, the Hall or the Manor, + the Great House—in short—still retains somewhat of the old + feudal power to bestow benefits or withhold them. Wealth and good will at + the Manor supply work and resultant comfort in the village and its + surrounding holdings. Patronised by the Great House the two or three small + village shops bestir themselves and awaken to activity. The blacksmith + swings his hammer with renewed spirit over the numerous jobs the gentry's + stables, carriage houses, garden tools, and household repairs give to him. + The carpenter mends and makes, the vicarage feels at ease, realising that + its church and its charities do not stand unsupported. Small farmers and + larger ones, under a rich and interested landlord, thrive and are able to + hold their own even against the tricks of wind and weather. Farm labourers + being, as a result, certain of steady and decent wage, trudge to and fro, + with stolid cheerfulness, knowing that the pot boils and the children's + feet are shod. Superannuated old men and women are sure of their broth and + Sunday dinner, and their dread of the impending “Union” fades + away. The squire or my lord or my lady can be depended upon to care for + their old bones until they are laid under the sod in the green churchyard. + With wealth and good will at the Great House, life warms and offers + prospects. There are Christmas feasts and gifts and village treats, and + the big carriage or the smaller ones stop at cottage doors and at once + confer exciting distinction and carry good cheer. + </p> + <p> + But Stornham village had scarcely a remote memory of any period of such + prosperity. It had not existed even in the older Sir Nigel's time, and + certainly the present Sir Nigel's reign had been marked only by neglect, + ill-temper, indifference, and a falling into disorder and decay. Farms + were poorly worked, labourers were unemployed, there was no trade from the + manor household, no carriages, no horses, no company, no spending of + money. Cottages leaked, floors were damp, the church roof itself was + falling to pieces, and the vicar had nothing to give. The helpless and old + cottagers were carried to the “Union” and, dying there, were + buried by the stinted parish in parish coffins. + </p> + <p> + Her ladyship had not visited the cottages since her child's birth. And now + such inspiriting events as were everyday happenings in lucky places like + Westerbridge and Wratcham and Yangford, showed signs of being about to + occur in Stornham itself. + </p> + <p> + To begin with, even before the journey to London, Kedgers had made two or + three visits to The Clock, and had been in a communicative mood. He had + related the story of the morning when he had looked up from his work and + had found the strange young lady standing before him, with the result that + he had been “struck all of a heap.” And then he had given a + detailed account of their walk round the place, and of the way in which + she had looked at things and asked questions, such as would have done + credit to a man “with a 'ead on 'im.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay! Nay!” commented Kedgers, shaking his own head + doubtfully, even while with admiration. “I've never seen the like + before—in young women—neither in lady young women nor in them + that's otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + Afterwards had transpired the story of Mrs. Noakes, and the kitchen grate, + Mrs. Noakes having a friend in Miss Lupin, the village dressmaker. + </p> + <p> + “I'd not put it past her,” was Mrs. Noakes' summing up, + “to order a new one, I wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + The footman in the shabby livery had been a little wild in his statements, + being rendered so by the admiring and excited state of his mind. He dwelt + upon the matter of her “looks,” and the way she lighted up the + dingy dining-room, and so conversed that a man found himself listening and + glancing when it was his business to be an unhearing, unseeing piece of + mechanism. + </p> + <p> + Such simple records of servitors' impressions were quite enough for + Stornham village, and produced in it a sense of being roused a little from + sleep to listen to distant and uncomprehended, but not unagreeable, + sounds. + </p> + <p> + One morning Buttle, the carpenter, looked up as Kedgers had done, and saw + standing on the threshold of his shop the tall young woman, who was a + sensation and an event in herself. + </p> + <p> + “You are the master of this shop?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Buttle came forward, touching his brow in hasty salute. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lady,” he answered. “Joseph Buttle, your + ladyship.” + </p> + <p> + “I am Miss Vanderpoel,” dismissing the suddenly bestowed title + with easy directness. “Are you busy? I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + No one had any reason to be “busy” at any time in Stornham + village, no such luck; but Buttle did not smile as he replied that he was + at liberty and placed himself at his visitor's disposal. The tall young + lady came into the little shop, and took the chair respectfully offered to + her. Buttle saw her eyes sweep the place as if taking in its resources. + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk to you about some work which must be done at the + Court,” she explained at once. “I want to know how much can be + done by workmen of the village. How many men have you?” + </p> + <p> + “How many men had he?” Buttle wavered between gratification at + its being supposed that he had “men” under him and grumpy + depression because the illusion must be dispelled. + </p> + <p> + “There's me and Sim Soames, miss,” he answered. “No + more, an' no less.” + </p> + <p> + “Where can you get more?” asked Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + It could not be denied that Buttle received a mental shock which verged in + its suddenness on being almost a physical one. The promptness and decision + of such a query swept him off his feet. That Sim Soames and himself should + be an insufficient force to combat with such repairs as the Court could + afford was an idea presenting an aspect of unheard-of novelty, but that + methods as coolly radical as those this questioning implied, should be + resorted to, was staggering. + </p> + <p> + “Me and Sim has always done what work was done,” he stammered. + “It hasn't been much.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel neither assented to nor dissented from this last palpable + truth. She regarded Buttle with searching eyes. She was wondering if any + practical ability concealed itself behind his dullness. If she gave him + work, could he do it? If she gave the whole village work, was it too far + gone in its unspurred stodginess to be roused to carrying it out? + </p> + <p> + “There is a great deal to be done now,” she said. “All + that can be done in the village should be done here. It seems to me that + the villagers want work—new work. Do they?” + </p> + <p> + Work! New work! The spark of life in her steady eyes actually lighted a + spark in the being of Joe Buttle. Young ladies in villages—gentry—usually + visited the cottagers a bit if they were well-meaning young women—left + good books and broth or jelly, pottered about and were seen at church, and + playing croquet, and finally married and removed to other places, or + gradually faded year by year into respectable spinsterhood. And this one + comes in, and in two or three minutes shows that she knows things about + the place and understands. A man might then take it for granted that she + would understand the thing he daringly gathered courage to say. + </p> + <p> + “They want any work, miss—that they are sure of decent pay for—sure + of it.” + </p> + <p> + She did understand. And she did not treat his implication as an + impertinence. She knew it was not intended as one, and, indeed, she saw in + it a sort of earnest of a possible practical quality in Buttle. Such work + as the Court had demanded had remained unpaid for with quiet persistence, + until even bills had begun to lag and fall off. She could see exactly how + it had been done, and comprehended quite clearly a lack of enthusiasm in + the presence of orders from the Great House. + </p> + <p> + “All work will be paid for,” she said. “Each week the + workmen will receive their wages. They may be sure. I will be responsible.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, miss,” said Buttle, and he half unconsciously + touched his forehead again. + </p> + <p> + “In a place like this,” the young lady went on in her mellow + voice, and with a reflective thoughtfulness in her handsome eyes, “on + an estate like Stornham, no work that can be done by the villagers should + be done by anyone else. The people of the land should be trained to do + such work as the manor house, or cottages, or farms require to have done.” + </p> + <p> + “How did she think that out?” was Buttle's reflection. In + places such as Stornham, through generation after generation, the thing + she had just said was accepted as law, clung to as a possession, any + divergence from it being a grievance sullenly and bitterly grumbled over. + And in places enough there was divergence in these days—the gentry + sending to London for things, and having up workmen to do their + best-paying jobs for them. The law had been so long a law that no village + could see justice in outsiders being sent for, even to do work they could + not do well themselves. It showed what she was, this handsome young woman—even + though she did come from America—that she should know what was + right. + </p> + <p> + She took a note-book out and opened it on the rough table before her. + </p> + <p> + “I have made some notes here,” she said, “and a sketch + or two. We must talk them over together.” + </p> + <p> + If she had given Joe Buttle cause for surprise at the outset, she gave him + further cause during the next half-hour. The work that was to be done was + such as made him open his eyes, and draw in his breath. If he was to be + allowed to do it—if he could do it—if it was to be paid for—it + struck him that he would be a man set up for life. If her ladyship had + come and ordered it to be done, he would have thought the poor thing had + gone mad. But this one had it all jotted down in a clear hand, without the + least feminine confusion of detail, and with here and there a little + sharply-drawn sketch, such as a carpenter, if he could draw, which Buttle + could not, might have made. + </p> + <p> + “There's not workmen enough in the village to do it in a year, miss,” + he said at last, with a gasp of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + She thought it over a minute, her pencil poised in her hand and her eyes + on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Can you,” she said, “undertake to get men from other + villages, and superintend what they do? If you can do that, the work is + still passing through your hands, and Stornham will reap the benefit of + it. Your workmen will lodge at the cottages and spend part of their wages + at the shops, and you who are a Stornham workman will earn the money to be + made out of a rather large contract.” + </p> + <p> + Joe Buttle became quite hot. If you have brought up a family for years on + the proceeds of such jobs as driving a ten-penny nail in here or there, + tinkering a hole in a cottage roof, knocking up a shelf in the vicarage + kitchen, and mending a panel of fence, to be suddenly confronted with a + proposal to engage workmen and undertake “contracts” is + shortening to the breath and heating to the blood. + </p> + <p> + “Miss,” he said, “we've never done big jobs, Sim Soames + an' me. P'raps we're not up to it—but it'd be a fortune to us.” + </p> + <p> + She was looking down at one of her papers and making pencil marks on it. + </p> + <p> + “You did some work last year on a little house at Tidhurst, didn't + you?” she said. + </p> + <p> + To think of her knowing that! Yes, the unaccountable good luck had + actually come to him that two Tidhurst carpenters, falling ill of the same + typhoid at the same time, through living side by side in the same order of + unsanitary cottage, he and Sim had been given their work to finish, and + had done their best. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “I heard that when I was inquiring about you. I drove over to + Tidhurst to see the work, and it was very sound and well done. If you did + that, I can at least trust you to do something at the Court which will + prove to me what you are equal to. I want a Stornham man to undertake + this.” + </p> + <p> + “No Tidhurst man,” said Joe Buttle, with sudden courage, + “nor yet no Barnhurst, nor yet no Yangford, nor Wratcham shall do + it, if I can look it in the face. It's Stornham work and Stornham had + ought to have it. It gives me a brace-up to hear of it.” + </p> + <p> + The tall young lady laughed beautifully and got up. + </p> + <p> + “Come to the Court to-morrow morning at ten, and we will look it + over together,” she said. “Good-morning, Buttle.” And + she went away. + </p> + <p> + In the taproom of The Clock, when Joe Buttle dropped in for his pot of + beer, he found Fox, the saddler, and Tread, the blacksmith, and each of + them fell upon the others with something of the same story to tell. The + new young lady from the Court had been to see them, too, and had brought + to each her definite little note-book. Harness was to be repaired and + furbished up, the big carriage and the old phaeton were to be put in + order, and Master Ughtred's cart was to be given new paint and springs. + </p> + <p> + “This is what she said,” Fox's story ran, “and she said + it so straightforward and business-like that the conceitedest man that + lived couldn't be upset by it. 'I want to see what you can do,' she says. + 'I am new to the place and I must find out what everyone can do, then I + shall know what to do myself.' The way she sets them eyes on a man is a + sight. It's the sense in them and the human nature that takes you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's the sense,” said Tread, “and her looking at + you as if she expected you to have sense yourself, and understand that + she's doing fair business. It's clear-headed like—her asking + questions and finding out what Stornham men can do. She's having the old + things done up so that she can find out, and so that she can prove that + the Court work is going to be paid for. That's my belief.” + </p> + <p> + “But what does it all mean?” said Joe Buttle, setting his pot + of beer down on the taproom table, round which they sat in conclave. + “Where's the money coming from? There's money somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + Tread was the advanced thinker of the village. He had come—through + reverses—from a bigger place. He read the newspapers. + </p> + <p> + “It'll come from where it's got a way of coming,” he gave + forth portentously. “It'll come from America. How they manage to get + hold of so much of it there is past me. But they've got it, dang 'em, and + they're ready to spend it for what they want, though they're a sharp lot. + Twelve years ago there was a good bit of talk about her ladyship's father + being one of them with the fullest pockets. She came here with plenty, but + Sir Nigel got hold of it for his games, and they're the games that cost + money. Her ladyship wasn't born with a backbone, poor thing, but this new + one was, and her ladyship's father is her father, and you mark my words, + there's money coming into Stornham, though it's not going to be played the + fool with. Lord, yes! this new one has a backbone and good strong wrists + and a good strong head, though I must say”—with a little + masculine chuckle of admission—“it's a bit unnatural with them + eyelashes and them eyes looking at you between 'em. Like blue water + between rushes in the marsh.” + </p> + <p> + Before the next twenty-four hours had passed a still more unlooked-for + event had taken place. Long outstanding bills had been paid, and in as + matter-of-fact manner as if they had not been sent in and ignored, in some + cases for years. The settlement of Joe Buttle's account sent him to bed at + the day's end almost light-headed. To become suddenly the possessor of + thirty-seven pounds, fifteen and tenpence half-penny, of which all hope + had been lost three years ago, was almost too much for any man. Six + pounds, eight pounds, ten pounds, came into places as if sovereigns had + been sixpences, and shillings farthings. More than one cottage woman, at + the sight of the hoarded wealth in her staring goodman's hand, gulped and + began to cry. If they had had it before, and in driblets, it would have + been spent long since, now, in a lump, it meant shoes and petticoats and + tea and sugar in temporary abundance, and the sense of this abundance was + felt to be entirely due to American magic. America was, in fact, greatly + lauded and discussed, the case of “Gaarge” Lumsden being much + quoted. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <h3> + KEDGERS + </h3> + <p> + The work at Stornham Court went on steadily, though with no greater + rapidity than is usually achieved by rural labourers. There was, however, + without doubt, a certain stimulus in the occasional appearance of Miss + Vanderpoel, who almost daily sauntered round the place to look on, and + exchange a few words with the workmen. When they saw her coming, the men, + hastily standing up to touch their foreheads, were conscious of a slight + acceleration of being which was not quite the ordinary quickening produced + by the presence of employers. It was, in fact, a sensation rather pleasing + than anxious. Her interest in the work was, upon the whole, one which they + found themselves beginning to share. The unusualness of the situation—a + young woman, who evidently stood for many things and powers desirable, + employing labourers and seeming to know what she intended them to do—was + a thing not easy to get over, or be come accustomed to. But there she was, + as easy and well mannered as you please—and with gentlefolks' ways, + though, as an American, such finish could scarcely be expected from her. + She knew each man's name, it was revealed gradually, and, what was more, + knew what he stood for in the village, what cottage he lived in, how many + children he had, and something about his wife. She remembered things and + made inquiries which showed knowledge. Besides this, she represented, + though perhaps they were scarcely yet fully awake to the fact, the promise + their discouraged dulness had long lost sight of. + </p> + <p> + It actually became apparent that her ladyship, who walked with her, was + altering day by day. Was it true that the bit of colour they had heard + spoken of when she returned from town was deepening and fixing itself on + her cheek? It sometimes looked like it. Was she a bit less stiff and + shy-like and frightened in her way? Buttle mentioned to his friends at The + Clock that he was sure of it. She had begun to look a man in the face when + she talked, and more than once he had heard her laugh at things her sister + said. + </p> + <p> + To one man more than to any other had come an almost unspeakable piece of + luck through the new arrival—a thing which to himself, at least, was + as the opening of the heavens. This man was the discouraged Kedgers. Miss + Vanderpoel, coming with her ladyship to talk to him, found that the man + was a person of more experience than might have been imagined. In his + youth he had been an under gardener at a great place, and being fond of + his work, had learned more than under gardeners often learn. He had been + one of a small army of workers under the orders of an imposing head + gardener, whose knowledge was a science. He had seen and taken part in + what was done in orchid houses, orangeries, vineries, peach houses, + conservatories full of wondrous tropical plants. But it was not easy for a + man like himself, uneducated and lacking confidence of character, to + advance as a bolder young man might have done. The all-ruling head + gardener had inspired him with awe. He had watched him reverently, + accumulating knowledge, but being given, as an underling, no opportunity + to do more than obey orders. He had spent his life in obeying, and + congratulated himself that obedience secured him his weekly wage. + </p> + <p> + “He was a great man—Mr. Timson—he was,” he said, + in talking to Miss Vanderpoel. “Ay, he was that. Knew everything + that could happen to a flower or a s'rub or a vegetable. Knew it all. Had + a lib'ery of books an' read 'em night an' day. Head gardener's cottage was + good enough for gentry. The old Markis used to walk round the hothouses + an' gardens talking to him by the hour. If you did what he told you + EXACTLY like he told it to you, then you were all right, but if you didn't—well, + you was off the place before you'd time to look round. Worked under him + from twenty to forty. Then he died an' the new one that came in had new + ways. He made a clean sweep of most of us. The men said he was jealous of + Mr. Timson.” + </p> + <p> + “That was bad for you, if you had a wife and children,” Miss + Vanderpoel said. + </p> + <p> + “Eight of us to feed,” Kedgers answered. “A man with + that on him can't wait, miss. I had to take the first place I could get. + It wasn't a good one—poor parsonage with a big family an' not room + on the place for the vegetables they wanted. Cabbages, an' potatoes, an' + beans, an' broccoli. No time nor ground for flowers. Used to seem as if + flowers got to be a kind of dream.” Kedgers gave vent to a + deprecatory half laugh. “Me—I was fond of flowers. I wouldn't + have asked no better than to live among 'em. Mr. Timson gave me a book or + two when his lordship sent him a lot of new ones. I've bought a few myself—though + I suppose I couldn't afford it.” + </p> + <p> + From the poor parsonage he had gone to a market gardener, and had + evidently liked the work better, hard and unceasing as it had been, + because he had been among flowers again. Sudden changes from forcing + houses to chill outside dampness had resulted in rheumatism. After that + things had gone badly. He began to be regarded as past his prime of + strength. Lower wages and labour still as hard as ever, though it + professed to be lighter, and therefore cheaper. At last the big neglected + gardens of Stornham. + </p> + <p> + “What I'm seeing, miss, all the time, is what could be done with + 'em. Wonderful it'd be. They might be the show of the county-if we had Mr. + Timson here.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel, standing in the sunshine on the broad weed-grown pathway, + was conscious that he was remotely moving. His flowers—his flowers. + They had been the centre of his rudimentary rural being. Each man or woman + cared for some one thing, and the unfed longing for it left the life of + the creature a thwarted passion. Kedgers, yearning to stir the earth about + the roots of blooming things, and doomed to broccoli and cabbage, had + spent his years unfed. No thing is a small thing. Kedgers, with the earth + under his broad finger nails, and his half apologetic laugh, being the + centre of his own world, was as large as Mount Dunstan, who stood thwarted + in the centre of his. Chancing-for God knows what mystery of reason-to be + born one of those having power, one might perhaps set in order a world + like Kedgers'. + </p> + <p> + “In the course of twenty years' work under Timson,” she said, + “you must have learned a great deal from him.” + </p> + <p> + “A good bit, miss-a good bit,” admitted Kedgers. “If I + hadn't ha' cared for the work, I might ha' gone on doing it with my eyes + shut, but I didn't. Mr. Timson's heart was set on it as well as his head. + An' mine got to be. But I wasn't even second or third under him—I + was only one of a lot. He would have thought me fine an' impident if I'd + told him I'd got to know a good deal of what he knew—and had some + bits of ideas of my own.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had men enough under you, and could order all you want,” + Miss Vanderpoel said tentatively, “you know what the place should + be, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “That I do, miss,” answered Kedgers, turning red with feeling. + “Why, if the soil was well treated, anything would grow here. + There's situations for everything. There's shade for things that wants it, + and south aspects for things that won't grow without the warmth of 'em. + Well, I've gone about many a day when I was low down in my mind and worked + myself up to being cheerful by just planning where I could put things and + what they'd look like. Liliums, now, I could grow them in masses from June + to October.” He was becoming excited, like a war horse scenting + battle from afar, and forgot himself. “The Lilium Giganteum—I + don't know whether you've ever seen one, miss—but if you did, it'd + almost take your breath away. A Lilium that grows twelve feet high and + more, and has a flower like a great snow-white trumpet, and the scent + pouring out of it so that it floats for yards. There's a place where I + could grow them so that you'd come on them sudden, and you'd think they + couldn't be true.” + </p> + <p> + “Grow them, Kedgers, begin to grow them,” said Miss + Vanderpoel. “I have never seen them—I must see them.” + </p> + <p> + Kedgers' low, deprecatory chuckle made itself heard again, + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I'm going too fast,” he said. “It would take a + good bit of expense to do it, miss. A good bit.” + </p> + <p> + Then Miss Vanderpoel made—and she made it in the simplest + matter-of-fact manner, too—the startling remark which, three hours + later, all Stornham village had heard of. The most astounding part of the + remark was that it was uttered as if there was nothing in it which was not + the absolutely natural outcome of the circumstances of the case. + </p> + <p> + “Expense which is proper and necessary need not be considered,” + she said. “Regular accounts will be kept and supervised, but you can + have all that is required.” + </p> + <p> + Then it appeared that Kedgers almost became pale. Being a foreigner, + perhaps she did not know how much she was implying when she said such a + thing to a man who had never held a place like Timson's. + </p> + <p> + “Miss,” he hesitated, even shamefacedly, because to suggest to + such a fine-mannered, calm young lady that she might be ignorant, seemed + perilously near impertinence. “Miss, did you mean you wanted only + the Lilium Giganteum, or—or other things, as well.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see,” she answered him, “all that you + see. I should like to hear more of it all, when we have time to talk it + over. I understand we should need time to discuss plans.” + </p> + <p> + The quiet way she went on! Seeming to believe in him, almost as if he was + Mr. Timson. The old feeling, born and fostered by the great head + gardener's rule, reasserted itself. + </p> + <p> + “It means more to work—and someone over them, miss,” he + said. “If—if you had a man like Mr. Timson——” + </p> + <p> + “You have not forgotten what you learned. With men enough under you + it can be put into practice.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean you'd trust me, miss—same as if I was Mr. Timson?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. If you ever feel the need of a man like Timson, no doubt we + can find one. But you will not. You love the work too much.” + </p> + <p> + Then still standing in the sunshine, on the weed-grown path, she continued + to talk to him. It revealed itself that she understood a good deal. As he + was to assume heavier responsibilities, he was to receive higher wages. It + was his experience which was to be considered, not his years. This was a + new point of view. The mere propeller of wheel-barrows and digger of the + soil—particularly after having been attacked by rheumatism—depreciates + in value after youth is past. Kedgers knew that a Mr. Timson, with a + regiment of under gardeners, and daily increasing knowledge of his + profession, could continue to direct, though years rolled by. But to such + fortune he had not dared to aspire. + </p> + <p> + One of the lodges might be put in order for him to live in. He might have + the hothouses to put in order, too; he might have implements, plants, + shrubs, even some of the newer books to consult. Kedgers' brain reeled. + </p> + <p> + “You—think I am to be trusted, miss?” he said more than + once. “You think it would be all right? I wasn't even second or + third under Mr. Timson—but—if I say it as shouldn't—I + never lost a chance of learning things. I was just mad about it. T'aint + only Liliums—Lord, I know 'em all, as if they were my own children + born an' bred—shrubs, coniferas, herbaceous borders that bloom in + succession. My word! what you can do with just delphiniums an' campanula + an' acquilegia an' poppies, everyday things like them, that'll grow in any + cottage garden, an' bulbs an' annuals! Roses, miss—why, Mr. Timson + had them in thickets—an' carpets—an' clambering over trees and + tumbling over walls in sheets an' torrents—just know their ways an' + what they want, an' they'll grow in a riot. But they want feeding—feeding. + A rose is a gross feeder. Feed a Glory deejon, and watch over him, an' + he'll cover a housetop an' give you two bloomings.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never lived in an English garden. I should like to see this + one at its best.” + </p> + <p> + Leaving her with salutes of abject gratitude, Kedgers moved away + bewildered. What man could believe it true? At three or four yards' + distance he stopped and, turning, came back to touch his cap again. + </p> + <p> + “You understand, miss,” he said. “I wasn't even second + or third under Mr. Timson. I'm not deceiving you, am I, miss?” + </p> + <p> + “You are to be trusted,” said Miss Vanderpoel, “first + because you love the things—and next because of Timson.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <h3> + ONE OF MR. VANDERPOEL'S LETTERS + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Germen, the secretary of the great Mr. Vanderpoel, in arranging the + neat stacks of letters preparatory to his chief's entrance to his private + room each morning, knowing where each should be placed, understood that + such as were addressed in Miss Vanderpoel's hand would be read before + anything else. This had been the case even when she had just been placed + in a French school, a tall, slim little girl, with immense demanding eyes, + and a thick black plait of hair swinging between her straight, rather + thin, shoulders. Between other financial potentates and their little + girls, Mr. Germen knew that the oddly confidential relation which existed + between these two was unusual. Her schoolgirl letters, it had been + understood, should be given the first place on the stacks of envelopes + each incoming ocean steamer brought in its mail bags. Since the beginning + of her visit to her sister, Lady Anstruthers, the exact dates of mail + steamers seemed to be of increased importance. Miss Vanderpoel evidently + found much to write about. Each steamer brought a full-looking envelope to + be placed in a prominent position. + </p> + <p> + On a hot morning in the early summer Mr. Germen found two or three—two + of them of larger size and seeming to contain business papers. These he + placed where they would be seen at once. Mr. Vanderpoel was a little later + than usual in his arrival. At this season he came from his place in the + country, and before leaving it this morning he had been talking to his + wife, whom he found rather disturbed by a chance encounter with a young + woman who had returned to visit her mother after a year spent in England + with her English husband. This young woman, now Lady Bowen, once Milly + Jones, had been one of the amusing marvels of New York. A girl neither + rich nor so endowed by nature as to be able to press upon the world any + special claim to consideration as a beauty, her enterprise, and the daring + of her tactics, had been the delight of many a satiric onlooker. In her + schooldays she had ingenuously mapped out her future career. Other + American girls married men with titles, and she intended to do the same + thing. The other little girls laughed, but they liked to hear her talk. + All information regarding such unions as was to be found in the newspapers + and magazines, she collected and studiously read—sometimes aloud to + her companions. + </p> + <p> + Social paragraphs about royalties, dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies, + court balls and glittering functions, she devoured and learned by heart. + An abominably vulgar little person, she was an interestingly pertinacious + creature, and wrought night and day at acquiring an air of fashionable + elegance, at first naturally laying it on in such manner as suggested that + it should be scraped off with a knife, but with experience gaining a + certain specious knowledge of forms. How the over-mature child at school + had assimilated her uncanny young worldliness, it would have been less + difficult to decide, if possible sources had been less numerous. The air + was full of it, the literature of the day, the chatter of afternoon teas, + the gossip of the hour. Before she was fifteen she saw the indiscretion of + her childish frankness, and realised that it might easily be detrimental + to her ambitions. She said no more of her plans for her future, and even + took the astute tone of carelessly treating as a joke her vulgar little + past. But no titled foreigner appeared upon the horizon without setting + her small, but business-like, brain at work. Her lack of wealth and + assured position made her situation rather hopeless. She was not of the + class of lucky young women whose parents' gorgeous establishments offered + attractions to wandering persons of rank. She and her mother lived in a + flat, and gave rather pathetic afternoon teas in return for such more + brilliant hospitalities as careful and pertinacious calling and recalling + obliged their acquaintances to feel they could not decently be left wholly + out of. Milly and her anxious mother had worked hard. They lost no + opportunity of writing a note, or sending a Christmas card, or an + economical funeral wreath. By daily toil and the amicable ignoring of + casualness of manner or slights, they managed to cling to the edge of the + precipice of social oblivion, into whose depths a lesser degree of + assiduity, or a greater sensitiveness, would have plunged them. Once—early + in Milly's career, when her ever-ready chatter and her superficial + brightness were a novelty, it had seemed for a short time that luck might + be glancing towards her. A young man of foreign title and of Bohemian + tastes met her at a studio dance, and, misled by the smartness of her + dress and her always carefully carried air of careless prosperity, began + to pay a delusive court to her. For a few weeks all her freshest frocks + were worn assiduously and credit was strained to buy new ones. The flat + was adorned with fresh flowers and several new yellow and pale blue + cushions appeared at the little teas, which began to assume a more festive + air. Desirable people, who went ordinarily to the teas at long intervals + and through reluctant weakness, or sometimes rebellious amiability, were + drummed up and brought firmly to the fore. Milly herself began to look + pink and fluffy through mere hopeful good spirits. Her thin little laugh + was heard incessantly, and people amusedly if they were good-tempered, + derisively if they were spiteful, wondered if it really would come to + something. But it did not. The young foreigner suddenly left New York, + making his adieus with entire lightness. There was the end of it. He had + heard something about lack of income and uncertainty of credit, which had + suggested to him that discretion was the better part of valour. He married + later a young lady in the West, whose father was a solid person. + </p> + <p> + Less astute young women, under the circumstances, would have allowed + themselves a week or so of headache or influenza, but Milly did not. She + made calls in the new frocks, and with such persistent spirit that she + fished forth from the depths of indifferent hospitality two or three + excellent invitations. She wore her freshest pink frock, and an amazingly + clever little Parisian diamond crescent in her hair, at the huge Monson + ball at Delmonico's, and it was recorded that it was on that glittering + occasion that her “Uncle James” was first brought upon the + scene. He was only mentioned lightly at first. It was to Milly's credit + that he was not made too much of. He was casually touched upon as a very + rich uncle, who lived in Dakota, and had actually lived there since his + youth, letting his few relations know nothing of him. He had been rather a + black sheep as a boy, but Milly's mother had liked him, and, when he had + run away from New York, he had told her what he was going to do, and had + kissed her when she cried, and had taken her daguerreotype with him. Now + he had written, and it turned out that he was enormously rich, and was + interested in Milly. From that time Uncle James formed an atmosphere. He + did not appear in New York, but Milly spent the next season in London, and + the Monsons, being at Hurlingham one day, had her pointed out to them as a + new American girl, who was the idol of a millionaire uncle. She was not + living in an ultra fashionable quarter, or with ultra fashionable people, + but she was, on all occasions, they heard, beautifully dressed and + beautifully—if a little heavily—hung with gauds and gems, her + rings being said to be quite amazing and suggesting an impassioned + lavishness on the part of Uncle James. London, having become inured to + American marvels—Milly's bit of it—accepted and enjoyed Uncle + James and all the sumptuous attributes of his Dakota. + </p> + <p> + English people would swallow anything sometimes, Mrs. Monson commented + sagely, and yet sometimes they stared and evidently thought you were lying + about the simplest things. Milly's corner of South Kensington had gulped + down the Dakota uncle. Her managing in this way, if there was no uncle, + was too clever and amusing. She had left her mother at home to scrimp and + save, and by hook or by crook she had contrived to get a number of quite + good things to wear. She wore them with such an air of accustomed resource + that the jewels might easily—mixed with some relics of her mother's + better days—be of the order of the clever little Parisian diamond + crescent. It was Milly's never-laid-aside manner which did it. The + announcement of her union with Sir Arthur Bowen was received in certain + New York circles with little suppressed shrieks of glee. It had been so + sharp of her to aim low and to realise so quickly that she could not aim + high. The baronetcy was a recent one, and not unconnected with trade. Sir + Arthur was not a rich man, and, had it leaked out, believed in Uncle + James. If he did not find him all his fancy painted, Milly was clever + enough to keep him quiet. She was, when all was said and done, one of the + American women of title, her servants and the tradespeople addressed her + as “my lady,” and with her capacity for appropriating what was + most useful, and her easy assumption of possessing all required, she was a + very smart person indeed. She provided herself with an English accent, an + English vocabulary, and an English manner, and in certain circles was felt + to be most impressive. + </p> + <p> + At an afternoon function in the country Mrs. Vanderpoel had met Lady + Bowen. She had been one of the few kindly ones, who in the past had given + an occasional treat to Milly Jones for her girlhood's sake. Lady Bowen, + having gathered a small group of hearers, was talking volubly to it, when + the nice woman entered, and, catching sight of her, she swept across the + room. It would not have been like Milly to fail to see and greet at once + the wife of Reuben Vanderpoel. She would count anywhere, even in London + sets it was not easy to connect one's self with. She had already + discovered that there were almost as many difficulties to be surmounted in + London by the wife of an unimportant baronet as there had been to be + overcome in New York by a girl without money or place. It was well to have + something in the way of information to offer in one's small talk with the + lucky ones and Milly knew what subject lay nearest to Mrs. Vanderpoel's + heart. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Vanderpoel has evidently been enjoying her visit to Stornham + Court,” she said, after her first few sentences. “I met Mrs. + Worthington at the Embassy, and she said she had buried herself in the + country. But I think she must have run up to town quietly for shopping. I + saw her one day in Piccadilly, and I was almost sure Lady Anstruthers was + with her in the carriage—almost sure.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderpoel's heart quickened its beat. + </p> + <p> + “You were so young when she married,” she said. “I + daresay you have forgotten her face.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” Milly protested effusively. “I remember her + quite well. She was so pretty and pink and happy-looking, and her hair + curled naturally. I used to pray every night that when I grew up I might + have hair and a complexion like hers.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderpoel's kind, maternal face fell. + </p> + <p> + “And you were not sure you recognised her? Well, I suppose twelve + years does make a difference,” her voice dragging a little. + </p> + <p> + Milly saw that she had made a blunder. The fact was she had not even + guessed at Rosy's identity until long after the carriage had passed her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you see,” she hesitated, “their carriage was not + near me, and I was not expecting to see them. And perhaps she looked a + little delicate. I heard she had been rather delicate.” + </p> + <p> + She felt she was floundering, and bravely floundered away from the + subject. She plunged into talk of Betty and people's anxiety to see her, + and the fact that the society columns were already faintly heralding her. + She would surely come soon to town. It was too late for the first + Drawing-room this year. When did Mrs. Vanderpoel think she would be + presented? Would Lady Anstruthers present her? Mrs. Vanderpoel could not + bring her back to Rosy, and the nature of the change which had made it + difficult to recognise her. + </p> + <p> + The result of this chance encounter was that she did not sleep very well, + and the next morning talked anxiously to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “What I could see, Reuben, was that Milly Bowen had not known her at + all, even when she saw her in the carriage with Betty. She couldn't have + changed as much as that, if she had been taken care of, and happy.” + </p> + <p> + Her affection and admiration for her husband were such as made the task of + soothing her a comparatively simple thing. The instinct of tenderness for + the mate his youth had chosen was an unchangeable one in Reuben + Vanderpoel. He was not a primitive man, but in this he was as + unquestioningly simple as if he had been a kindly New England farmer. He + had outgrown his wife, but he had always loved and protected her gentle + goodness. He had never failed her in her smallest difficulty, he could not + bear to see her hurt. Betty had been his compeer and his companion almost + since her childhood, but his wife was the tenderest care of his days. + There was a strong sense of relief in his thought of Betty now. It was + good to remember the fineness of her perceptions, her clearness of + judgment, and recall that they were qualities he might rely upon. + </p> + <p> + When he left his wife to take his train to town, he left her smiling + again. She scarcely knew how her fears had been dispelled. His talk had + all been kindly, practical, and reasonable. It was true Betty had said in + her letter that Rosy had been rather delicate, and had not been taking + very good care of herself, but that was to be remedied. Rosy had made a + little joke or so about it herself. + </p> + <p> + “Betty says I am not fat enough for an English matron. I am drinking + milk and breakfasting in bed, and am going to be massaged to please her. I + believe we all used to obey Betty when she was a child, and now she is so + tall and splendid, one would never dare to cross her. Oh, mother! I am so + happy at having her with me!” + </p> + <p> + To reread just these simple things caused the suggestion of things not + comfortably normal to melt away. Mrs. Vanderpoel sat down at a sunny + window with her lap full of letters, and forgot Milly Bowen's floundering. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Vanderpoel reached his office and glanced at his carefully + arranged morning's mail, Mr. Germen saw him smile at the sight of the + envelopes addressed in his daughter's hand. He sat down to read them at + once, and, as he read, the smile of welcome became a shrewd and deeply + interested one. + </p> + <p> + “She has undertaken a good-sized contract,” he was saying to + himself, “and she's to be trusted to see it through. It is rather + fine, the way she manages to combine emotions and romance and sentiments + with practical good business, without letting one interfere with the + other. It's none of it bad business this, as the estate is entailed, and + the boy is Rosy's. It's good business.” + </p> + <p> + This was what Betty had written to her father in New York from Stornham + Court. + </p> + <p> + “The things I am beginning to do, it would be impossible for me to + resist doing, and it would certainly be impossible for you. The thing I am + seeing I have never seen, at close hand, before, though I have taken in + something almost its parallel as part of certain picturesqueness of scenes + in other countries. But I am LIVING with this and also, through + relationship to Rosy, I, in a measure, belong to it, and it belongs to me. + You and I may have often seen in American villages crudeness, + incompleteness, lack of comfort, and the composition of a picture, a rough + ugliness the result of haste and unsettled life which stays nowhere long, + but packs up its goods and chattels and wanders farther afield in search + of something better or worse, in any case in search of change, but we have + never seen ripe, gradual falling to ruin of what generations ago was + beautiful. To me it is wonderful and tragic and touching. If you could see + the Court, if you could see the village, if you could see the church, if + you could see the people, all quietly disintegrating, and so dearly + perfect in their way that if one knew absolutely that nothing could be + done to save them, one could only stand still and catch one's breath and + burst into tears. The church has stood since the Conquest, and, as it + still stands, grey and fine, with its mass of square tower, and despite + the state of its roof, is not yet given wholly to the winds and weather, + it will, no doubt, stand a few centuries longer. The Court, however, + cannot long remain a possible habitation, if it is not given a new lease + of life. I do not mean that it will crumble to-morrow, or the day after, + but we should not think it habitable now, even while we should admit that + nothing could be more delightful to look at. The cottages in the village + are already, many of them, amazing, when regarded as the dwellings of + human beings. How long ago the cottagers gave up expecting that anything + in particular would be done for them, I do not know. I am impressed by the + fact that they are an unexpecting people. Their calm non-expectancy fills + me with interest. Only centuries of waiting for their superiors in rank to + do things for them, and the slow formation of the habit of realising that + not to submit to disappointment was no use, could have produced the almost + SERENITY of their attitude. It is all very well for newborn republican + nations—meaning my native land—to sniff sternly and say that + such a state of affairs is an insult to the spirit of the race. Perhaps it + is now, but it was not apparently centuries ago, which was when it all + began and when 'Man' and the 'Race' had not developed to the point of + asking questions, to which they demand replies, about themselves and the + things which happened to them. It began in the time of Egbert and Canute, + and earlier, in the days of the Druids, when they used peacefully to allow + themselves to be burned by the score, enclosed in wicker idols, as natural + offerings to placate the gods. The modern acceptance of things is only a + somewhat attenuated remnant of the ancient idea. And this is what I have + to deal with and understand. When I begin to do the things I am going to + do, with the aid of your practical advice, if I have your approval, the + people will be at first rather afraid of me. They will privately suspect I + am mad. It will, also, not seem at all unlikely that an American should be + of unreasoningly extravagant and flighty mind. Stornham, having long + slumbered in remote peace through lack of railroad convenience, still + regards America as almost of the character of wild rumour. Rosy was their + one American, and she disappeared from their view so soon that she had not + time to make any lasting impression. I am asking myself how difficult, or + how simple, it will be to quite understand these people, and to make them + understand me. I greatly doubt its being simple. Layers and layers and + layers of centuries must be far from easy to burrow through. They look + simple, they do not know that they are not simple, but really they are + not. Their point of view has been the point of view of the English peasant + so many hundred years that an American point of view, which has had no + more than a trifling century and a half to form itself in, may find its + thews and sinews the less powerful of the two. When I walk down the + village street, faces appear at windows, and figures, stolidly, at doors. + What I see is that, vaguely and remotely, American though I am, the fact + that I am of 'her ladyship's blood,' and that her ladyship—American + though she is—has the claim on them of being the mother of the son + of the owner of the land—stirs in them a feeling that I have a + shadowy sort of relationship in the whole thing, and with regard to their + bad roofs and bad chimneys, to their broken palings, and damp floors, to + their comforts and discomforts, a sort of responsibility. That is the + whole thing, and you—just you, father—will understand me when + I say that I actually like it. I might not like it if I were poor Rosy, + but, being myself, I love it. There is something patriarchal in it which + moves me. + </p> + <p> + “Is it an abounding and arrogant delight in power which makes it + appeal to me, or is it something better? To feel that every man on the + land, every woman, every child knew one, counted on one's honour and + friendship, turned to one believingly in time of stress, to know that one + could help and be a finely faithful thing, the very knowledge of it would + give one vigour and warm blood in the veins. I wish I had been born to it, + I wish the first sounds falling on my newborn ears had been the clanging + of the peal from an old Norman church tower, calling out to me, 'Welcome; + newcomer of our house, long life among us! Welcome!' Still, though the + first sounds that greeted me were probably the rattling of a Fifth Avenue + stage, I have brought them SOMETHING, and who knows whether I could have + brought it from without the range of that prosaic, but cheerful, rattle.” + </p> + <p> + The rest of the letter was detail of a business-like order. A large + envelope contained the detail-notes of things to be done, notes concerning + roofs, windows, flooring, park fences, gardens, greenhouses, tool houses, + potting sheds, garden walls, gates, woodwork, masonry. Sharp little + sketches, such as Buttle had seen, notes concerning Buttle, Fox, Tread, + Kedgers, and less accomplished workmen; concerning wages of day labourers, + hours, capabilities. Buttle, if he had chanced to see them, would have + broken into a light perspiration at the idea of a young woman having + compiled the documents. He had never heard of the first Reuben Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + Her father's reply to Betty was as long as her own to him, and gave her + keen pleasure by its support, both of sympathetic interest and practical + advice. He left none of her points unnoted, and dealt with each of them as + she had most hoped and indeed had felt she knew he would. This was his + final summing up: + </p> + <p> + “If you had been a boy, and I own I am glad you were not—a man + wants a daughter—I should have been quite willing to allow you your + flutter on Wall Street, or your try at anything you felt you would like to + handle. It would have interested me to look on and see what you were made + of, what you wanted, and how you set about trying to get it. It's a new + kind of deal you have undertaken. It's more romantic than Wall Street, but + I think I do see what you see in it. Even apart from Rosy and the boy, it + would interest me to see what you would do with it. This is your + 'flutter.' I like the way you face it. If you were a son instead of a + daughter, I should see I might have confidence in you. I could not confide + to Wall Street what I will tell you—which is that in the midst of + the drive and swirl and tumult of my life here, I like what you see in the + thing, I like your idea of the lord of the land, who should love the land + and the souls born on it, and be the friend and strength of them and give + the best and get it back in fair exchange. There's a steadiness in the + thought of such a life among one's kind which has attractions for a man + who has spent years in a maelstrom, snatching at what whirls among the + eddies of it. Your notes and sketches and summing up of probable costs did + us both credit—I say 'both' because your business education is the + result of our long talks and journeyings together. You began to train for + this when you began going to visit mines and railroads with me at twelve + years old. I leave the whole thing in your hands, my girl, I leave Rosy in + your hands, and in leaving Rosy to you, you know how I am trusting you + with your mother. Your letters to her tell her only what is good for her. + She is beginning to look happier and younger already, and is looking + forward to the day when Rosy and the boy will come home to visit us, and + when we shall go in state to Stornham Court. God bless her, she is made up + of affection and simple trust, and that makes it easy to keep things from + her. She has never been ill-treated, and she knows I love her, so when I + tell her that things are coming right, she never doubts me. + </p> + <p> + “While you are rebuilding the place you will rebuild Rosy so that + the sight of her may not be a pain when her mother sees her again, which + is what she is living for.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <h3> + INTRODUCING G. SELDEN + </h3> + <p> + A bird was perched upon a swaying branch of a slim young sapling near the + fence-supported hedge which bounded the park, and Mount Dunstan had + stopped to look at it and listen. A soft shower had fallen, and after its + passing, the sun coming through the light clouds, there had broken forth + again in the trees brief trills and calls and fluting of bird notes. The + sward and ferns glittered fresh green under the raindrops; the young + leaves on trees and hedge seemed visibly to uncurl, the uncovered earth + looked richly dark and moist, and sent forth the fragrance from its deeps, + which, rising to a man's nostrils, stirs and thrills him because it is the + scent of life's self. The bird upon the sapling was a robin, the tiny + round body perched upon his delicate legs, plump and bright plumaged for + mating. He touched his warm red breast with his beak, fluffed out and + shook his feathers, and, swelling his throat, poured forth his small, + entranced song. It was a gay, brief, jaunty thing, but pure, joyous, + gallant, liquid melody. There was dainty bravado in it, saucy demand and + allurement. It was addressed to some invisible hearer of the tender sex, + and wheresoever she might be hidden—whether in great branch or low + thicket or hedge—there was hinted no doubt in her small wooer's note + that she would hear it and in due time respond. Mount Dunstan, listening, + even laughed at its confident music. The tiny thing uttering its Call of + the World—jubilant in the surety of answer! + </p> + <p> + Having flung it forth, he paused a moment and waited, his small head + turned sideways, his big, round, dew-bright black eye roguishly attentive. + Then with more swelling of the throat he trilled and rippled gayly anew, + undisturbed and undoubting, but with a trifle of insistence. Then he + listened, tried again two or three times, with brave chirps and exultant + little roulades. “Here am I, the bright-breasted, the liquid-eyed, + the slender-legged, the joyous and conquering! Listen to me—listen + to me. Listen and answer in the call of God's world.” It was the joy + and triumphant faith in the tiny note of the tiny thing—Life as he + himself was, though Life whose mystery his man's hand could have crushed—which, + while he laughed, set Mount Dunstan thinking. Spring warmth and spring + scents and spring notes set a man's being in tune with infinite things. + </p> + <p> + The bright roulade began again, prolonged itself with renewed effort, rose + to its height, and ended. From a bush in the thicket farther up the road a + liquid answer came. And Mount Dunstan's laugh at the sound of it was + echoed by another which came apparently from the bank rising from the road + on the other side of the hedge, and accompanying the laugh was a + good-natured nasal voice. + </p> + <p> + “She's caught on. There's no mistake about that. I guess it's time + for you to hustle, Mr. Rob.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan laughed again. Jem Salter had heard voices like it, and + cheerful slang phrases of the same order in his ranch days. On the other + side of his park fence there was evidently sitting, through some odd + chance, an American of the cheery, casual order, not sufficiently polished + by travel to have lost his picturesque national characteristics. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan put a hand on a broken panel of fence and leaped over into + the road. + </p> + <p> + A bicycle was lying upon the roadside grass, and on the bank, looking as + though he had been sheltering himself under the hedge from the rain, sat a + young man in a cheap bicycling suit. His features were sharply cut and + keen, his cap was pushed back from his forehead, and he had a pair of + shrewdly careless boyish eyes. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan liked the look of him, and seeing his natural start at the + unheralded leap over the gap, which was quite close to him, he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” he said. “I am afraid I startled you.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” was the response. “It was a bit of a + jolt seeing you jump almost over my shoulder. Where did you come from? You + must have been just behind me.” + </p> + <p> + “I was,” explained Mount Dunstan. “Standing in the park + listening to the robin.” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow laughed outright. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, “that was pretty fine, wasn't it? Wasn't + he getting it off his chest! He was an English robin, I guess. American + robins are three or four times as big. I liked that little chap. He was a + winner.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an American?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” nodding. “Good old Stars and Stripes for mine. + First time I've been here. Came part for business and part for pleasure. + Having the time of my life.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan sat down beside him. He wanted to hear him talk. He had + liked to hear the ranchmen talk. This one was of the city type, but his + genial conversational wanderings would be full of quaint slang and good + spirits. He was quite ready to converse, as was made manifest by his next + speech. + </p> + <p> + “I'm biking through the country because I once had an old + grandmother that was English, and she was always talking about English + country, and how green things was, and how there was hedges instead of + rail fences. She thought there was nothing like little old England. Well, + as far as roads and hedges go, I'm with her. They're all right. I wanted a + fellow I met crossing, to come with me, but he took a Cook's trip to + Paris. He's a gay sort of boy. Said he didn't want any green lanes in his. + He wanted Boolyvard.” He laughed again and pushed his cap farther + back on his forehead. “Said I wasn't much of a sport. I tell YOU, a + chap that's got to earn his fifteen per, and live on it, can't be TOO much + of a sport.” + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen per?” Mount Dunstan repeated doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + His companion chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “I forgot I was talking to an Englishman. Fifteen dollars per week—that's + what 'fifteen per' means. That's what he told me he gets at Lobenstien's + brewery in New York. Fifteen per. Not much, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “How does he manage Continental travel on fifteen per?” Mount + Dunstan inquired. + </p> + <p> + “He's a typewriter and stenographer, and he dug up some extra jobs + to do at night. He's been working and saving two years to do this. We + didn't come over on one of the big liners with the Four Hundred, you can + bet. Took a cheap one, inside cabin, second class.” + </p> + <p> + “By George!” said Mount Dunstan. “That was American.” + </p> + <p> + The American eagle slightly flapped his wings. The young man pushed his + cap a trifle sideways this time, and flushed a little. + </p> + <p> + “Well, when an American wants anything he generally reaches out for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't it rather—rash, considering the fifteen per?” + Mount Dunstan suggested. He was really beginning to enjoy himself. + </p> + <p> + “What's the use of making a dollar and sitting on it. I've not got + fifteen per—steady—and here I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan knew his man, and looked at him with inquiring interest. He + was quite sure he would go on. This was a thing he had seen before—an + utter freedom from the insular grudging reserve, a sort of occult + perception of the presence of friendly sympathy, and an ingenuous + readiness to meet it half way. The youngster, having missed his + fellow-traveler, and probably feeling the lack of companionship in his + country rides, was in the mood for self-revelation. + </p> + <p> + “I'm selling for a big concern,” he said, “and I've got + a first-class article to carry. Up to date, you know, and all that. It's + the top notch of typewriting machines, the Delkoff. Ever seen it? Here's + my card,” taking a card from an inside pocket and handing it to him. + It was inscribed: + </p> + <p> + J. BURRIDGE & SON, DELKOFF TYPEWRITER CO. BROADWAY, NEW YORK. G. + SELDEN. + </p> + <p> + “That's my name,” he said, pointing to the inscription in the + corner. “I'm G. Selden, the junior assistant of Mr. Jones.” + </p> + <p> + At the sight of the insignia of his trade, his holiday air dropped from + him, and he hastily drew from another pocket an illustrated catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “If you use a typewriter,” he broke forth, “I can assure + you it would be to your interest to look at this.” And as Mount + Dunstan took the proffered pamphlet, and with amiable gravity opened it, + he rapidly poured forth his salesman's patter, scarcely pausing to take + his breath: “It's the most up-to-date machine on the market. It has + all the latest improved mechanical appliances. You will see from the cut + in the catalogue that the platen roller is easily removed without a long + mechanical operation. All you do is to slip two pins back and off comes + the roller. There is also another point worth mentioning—the ribbon + switch. By using this ribbon switch you can write in either red or blue + ink while you are using only one ribbon. By throwing the switch on this + side, you can use thirteen yards on the upper edge of the ribbon, by + reversing it, you use thirteen yards on the lower edge—thus getting + practically twenty-six yards of good, serviceable ribbon out of one that + is only thirteen yards long—making a saving of fifty per cent. in + your ribbon expenditure alone, which you will see is quite an item to any + enterprising firm.” + </p> + <p> + He was obliged to pause here for a second or so, but as Mount Dunstan + exhibited no signs of intending to use violence, and, on the contrary, + continued to inspect the catalogue, he broke forth with renewed cheery + volubility: + </p> + <p> + “Another advantage is the new basket shift. Also, the carriage on + this machine is perfectly stationary and rigid. On all other machines it + is fastened by a series of connecting bolts and links, which you will + readily understand makes perfect alignment uncertain. Then our tabulator + is a part and parcel of the instrument, costing you nothing more than the + original price of the machine, which is one hundred dollars—without + discount.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems a good thing,” said Mount Dunstan. “If I had + much business to transact, I should buy one.” + </p> + <p> + “If you bought one you'd HAVE business,” responded Selden. + “That's what's the matter. It's the up-to-date machines that set + things humming. A slow, old-fashioned typewriter uses a firm's time, and + time's money.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't find it so,” said Mount Dunstan. “I have more + time than I can possibly use—and no money.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden looked at him with friendly interest. His experience, which was + varied, had taught him to recognize symptoms. This nice, rough-looking + chap, who, despite his rather shabby clothes, looked like a gentleman, + wore an expression Jones's junior assistant had seen many a time before. + He had seen it frequently on the countenances of other junior assistants + who had tramped the streets and met more or less savage rebuffs through a + day's length, without disposing of a single Delkoff, and thereby adding + five dollars to the ten per. It was the kind of thing which wiped the + youth out of a man's face and gave him a hard, worn look about the eyes. + He had looked like that himself many an unfeeling day before he had + learned to “know the ropes and not mind a bit of hot air.” His + buoyant, slangy soul was a friendly thing. He was a gregarious creature, + and liked his fellow man. He felt, indeed, more at ease with him when he + needed “jollying along.” Reticence was not even etiquette in a + case as usual as this. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he broke out, “perhaps I oughtn't to have worried + you. Are you up against it? Down on your luck, I mean,” in hasty + translation. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan grinned a little. + </p> + <p> + “That's a very good way of putting it,” he answered. “I + never heard 'up against it' before. It's good. Yes, I'm up against it. + </p> + <p> + “Out of a job?” with genial sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the job I had was too big for me. It needed capital.” + He grinned slightly again, recalling a phrase of his Western past. “I'm + afraid I'm down and out.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you're not,” with cheerful scorn. “You're not dead, + are you? S'long as a man's not been dead a month, there's always a chance + that there's luck round the corner. How did you happen here? Are you + piking it?” + </p> + <p> + Momentarily Mount Dunstan was baffled. G. Selden, recognising the fact, + enlightened him. “That's New York again,” he said, with a + boyish touch of apology. “It means on the tramp. Travelling along + the turnpike. You don't look as if you had come to that—though it's + queer the sort of fellows you do meet piking sometimes. Theatrical + companies that have gone to pieces on the road, you know. Perhaps—” + with a sudden thought, “you're an actor. Are you?” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan admitted to himself that he liked the junior assistant of + Jones immensely. A more ingenuously common young man, a more innocent + outsider, it had never been his blessed privilege to enter into close + converse with, but his very commonness was a healthy, normal thing. It + made no effort to wreathe itself with chaplets of elegance; it was + beautifully unaware that such adornment was necessary. It enjoyed itself, + youthfully; attacked the earning of its bread with genial pluck, and its + good-natured humanness had touched him. He had enjoyed his talk; he wanted + to hear more of it. He was not in the mood to let him go his way. To + Penzance, who was to lunch with him to-day, he would present a study of + absorbing interest. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. “I'm not an actor. My name is Mount + Dunstan, and this place,” with a nod over his shoulder, “is + mine—but I'm up against it, nevertheless.” + </p> + <p> + Selden looked a trifle disgusted. He began to pick up his bicycle. He had + given a degree of natural sympathy, and this was an English chap's idea of + a joke. + </p> + <p> + “I'm the Prince of Wales, myself,” he remarked, “and my + mother's expecting me to lunch at Windsor. So long, me lord,” and he + set his foot on the treadle. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan rose, feeling rather awkward. The point seemed somewhat + difficult to contend. + </p> + <p> + “It is not a joke,” he said, conscious that he spoke rather + stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “Little Willie's not quite as easy as he looks,” was the + cryptic remark of Mr. Selden. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan lost his rather easily lost temper, which happened to be the + best thing he could have done under the circumstances. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it,” he burst out. “I'm not such a fool as I + evidently look. A nice ass I should be to play an idiot joke like that. + I'm speaking the truth. Go if you like—and be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + Selden's attention was arrested. The fellow was in earnest. The place was + his. He must be the earl chap he had heard spoken of at the wayside public + house he had stopped at for a pot of beer. He dismounted from his bicycle, + and came back, pushing it before him, good-natured relenting and + awkwardness combining in his look. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said. “I apologise—if it's cold + fact. I'm not calling you a liar.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” still a little stiffly, from Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + The unabashed good cheer of G. Selden carried him lightly over a slightly + difficult moment. He laughed, pushing his cap back, of course, and looking + over the hedge at the sweep of park, with a group of deer cropping softly + in the foreground. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I should get a bit hot myself,” he volunteered + handsomely, “if I was an earl, and owned a place like this, and a + fool fellow came along and took me for a tramp. That was a pretty bad + break, wasn't it? But I did say you didn't look like it. Anyway you + needn't mind me. I shouldn't get onto Pierpont Morgan or W. K. Vanderbilt, + if I met 'em in the street.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke the two names as an Englishman of his class would have spoken of + the Dukes of Westminster or Marlborough. These were his nobles—the + heads of the great American houses, and entirely parallel, in his mind, + with the heads of any great house in England. They wielded the power of + the world, and could wield it for evil or good, as any prince or duke + might. Mount Dunstan saw the parallel. + </p> + <p> + “I apologise, all right,” G. Selden ended genially. + </p> + <p> + “I am not offended,” Mount Dunstan answered. “There was + no reason why you should know me from another man. I was taken for a + gamekeeper a few weeks since. I was savage a moment, because you refused + to believe me—and why should you believe me after all?” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden hesitated. He liked the fellow anyhow. + </p> + <p> + “You said you were up against it—that was it. And—and + I've seen chaps down on their luck often enough. Good Lord, the hard-luck + stories I hear every day of my life. And they get a sort of look about the + eyes and mouth. I hate to see it on any fellow. It makes me sort of sick + to come across it even in a chap that's only got his fool self to blame. I + may be making another break, telling you—but you looked sort of that + way.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” stolidly, “I did.” Then, his voice + warming, + </p> + <p> + “It was jolly good-natured of you to think about it at all. Thank + you.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” in polite acknowledgment. Then with + another look over the hedge, “Say—what ought I to call you? + Earl, or my Lord?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not necessary for you to call me anything in particular—as + a rule. If you were speaking of me, you might say Lord Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden looked relieved. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to be too much off,” he said. “And I'd + like to ask you a favour. I've only three weeks here, and I don't want to + miss any chances.” + </p> + <p> + “What chance would you like?” + </p> + <p> + “One of the things I'm biking over the country for, is to get a look + at just such a place as this. We haven't got 'em in America. My old + grandmother was always talking about them. Before her mother brought her + to New York she'd lived in a village near some park gates, and she chinned + about it till she died. When I was a little chap I liked to hear her. She + wasn't much of an American. Wore a black net cap with purple ribbons in + it, and hadn't outlived her respect for aristocracy. Gee!” + chuckling, “if she'd heard what I said to you just now, I reckon + she'd have thrown a fit. Anyhow she made me feel I'd like to see the kind + of places she talked about. And I shall think myself in luck if you'll let + me have a look at yours—just a bike around the park, if you don't + object—or I'll leave the bike outside, if you'd rather.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't object at all,” said Mount Dunstan. “The fact + is, I happened to be on the point of asking you to come and have some + lunch—when you got on your bicycle.” + </p> + <p> + Selden pushed his cap and cleared his throat. + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't expecting that,” he said. “I'm pretty dusty,” + with a glance at his clothes. “I need a wash and brush up—particularly + if there are ladies.” + </p> + <p> + There were no ladies, and he could be made comfortable. This being + explained to him, he was obviously rejoiced. With unembarrassed frankness, + he expressed exultation. Such luck had not, at any time, presented itself + to him as a possibility in his holiday scheme. + </p> + <p> + “By gee,” he ejaculated, as they walked under the broad oaks + of the avenue leading to the house. “Speaking of luck, this is the + limit! I can't help thinking of what my grandmother would say if she saw + me.” + </p> + <p> + He was a new order of companion, but before they had reached the house, + Mount Dunstan had begun to find him inspiring to the spirits. His jovial, + if crude youth, his unaffected acknowledgment of unaccustomedness to + grandeur, even when in dilapidation, his delight in the novelty of the + particular forms of everything about him—trees and sward, ferns and + moss, his open self-congratulation, were without doubt cheerful things. + </p> + <p> + His exclamation, when they came within sight of the house itself, was for + a moment disturbing to Mount Dunstan's composure. + </p> + <p> + “Hully gee!” he said. “The old lady was right. All I've + thought about 'em was 'way off. It's bigger than a museum.” His + approval was immense. + </p> + <p> + During the absence in which he was supplied with the “wash and brush + up,” Mount Dunstan found Mr. Penzance in the library. He explained + to him what he had encountered, and how it had attracted him. + </p> + <p> + “You have liked to hear me describe my Western neighbours,” he + said. “This youngster is a New York development, and of a different + type. But there is a likeness. I have invited to lunch with us, a young + man whom—Tenham, for instance, if he were here—would call 'a + bounder.' He is nothing of the sort. In his junior-assistant-salesman way, + he is rather a fine thing. I never saw anything more decently human than + his way of asking me—man to man, making friends by the roadside if I + was 'up against it.' No other fellow I have known has ever exhibited the + same healthy sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + The Reverend Lewis was entranced. Already he was really quite flushed with + interest. As Assyrian character, engraved upon sarcophogi, would have + allured and thrilled him, so was he allured by the cryptic nature of the + two or three American slang phrases Mount Dunstan had repeated to him. His + was the student's simple ardour. + </p> + <p> + “Up against it,” he echoed. “Really! Dear! Dear! And + that signifies, you say——” + </p> + <p> + “Apparently it means that a man has come face to face with an + obstacle difficult or impossible to overcome.” + </p> + <p> + “But, upon my word, that is not bad. It is strong figure of speech. + It brings up a picture. A man hurrying to an end—much desired—comes + unexpectedly upon a stone wall. One can almost hear the impact. He is up + against it. Most vivid. Excellent! Excellent!” + </p> + <p> + The nature of Selden's calling was such that he was not accustomed to + being received with a hint of enthusiastic welcome. There was something + almost akin to this in the vicar's courteously amiable, aquiline + countenance when he rose to shake hands with the young man on his + entrance. Mr. Penzance was indeed slightly disappointed that his greeting + was not responded to by some characteristic phrasing. His American was + that of Sam Slick and Artemus Ward, Punch and various English witticisms + in anecdote. Life at the vicarage of Dunstan had not revealed to him that + the model had become archaic. + </p> + <p> + The revelation dawned upon him during his intercourse with G. Selden. The + young man in his cheap bicycling suit was a new development. He was + markedly unlike an English youth of his class, as he was neither shy, nor + laboriously at his ease. That he was at his ease to quite an amazing + degree might perhaps have been remotely resented by the insular mind, + accustomed to another order of bearing in its social inferiors, had it not + been so obviously founded on entire unconsciousness of self, and so + mingled with open appreciation of the unanticipated pleasures of the + occasion. Nothing could have been farther from G. Selden than any desire + to attempt to convey the impression that he had enjoyed the hospitality of + persons of rank on previous occasions. He found indeed a gleeful point in + the joke of the incongruousness of his own presence amid such + surroundings. + </p> + <p> + “What Little Willie was expecting,” he remarked once, to the + keen joy of Mr. Penzance, “was a hunk of bread and cheese at a + village saloon somewhere. I ought to have said 'pub,' oughtn't I? You + don't call them saloons here.” + </p> + <p> + He was encouraged to talk, and in his care-free fluency he opened up many + vistas to the interested Mr. Penzance, who found himself, so to speak, + whirled along Broadway, rushed up the steps of the elevated railroad and + struggling to obtain a seat, or a strap to hang to on a Sixth Avenue + train. The man was saturated with the atmosphere of the hot battle he + lived in. From his childhood he had known nothing but the fever heat of + his “little old New York,” as he called it with affectionate + slanginess, and any temperature lower than that he was accustomed to would + have struck him as being below normal. Penzance was impressed by his + feeling of affection for the amazing city of his birth. He admired, he + adored it, he boasted joyously of its perfervid charm. + </p> + <p> + “Something doing,” he said. “That's what my sort of a + fellow likes—something doing. You feel it right there when you walk + along the streets. Little old New York for mine. It's good enough for + Little Willie. And it never stops. Why, Broadway at night——” + </p> + <p> + He forgot his chop, and leaned forward on the table to pour forth his + description. The manservant, standing behind Mount Dunstan's chair, forgot + himself also, thought he was a trained domestic whose duty it was to + present dishes to the attention without any apparent mental processes. + Certainly it was not his business to listen, and gaze fascinated. This he + did, however, actually for the time unconscious of his breach of manners. + The very crudity of the language used, the oddly sounding, sometimes not + easily translatable slang phrases, used as if they were a necessary part + of any conversation—the blunt, uneducated bareness of figure—seemed + to Penzance to make more roughly vivid the picture dashed off. The broad + thoroughfare almost as thronged by night as by day. Crowds going to + theatres, loaded electric cars, whizzing and clanging bells, the elevated + railroad rushing and roaring past within hearing, theatre fronts flaming + with electric light, announcements of names of theatrical stars and the + plays they appeared in, electric light advertisements of brands of cigars, + whiskies, breakfast foods, all blazing high in the night air in such + number and with such strength of brilliancy that the whole thoroughfare + was as bright with light as a ballroom or a theatre. The vicar felt + himself standing in the midst of it all, blinded by the glare. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down on the sidewalk and read your newspaper, a book, a + magazine—any old thing you like,” with an exultant laugh. + </p> + <p> + The names of the dramatic stars blazing over entrances to the theatres + were often English names, their plays English plays, their companies made + up of English men and women. G. Selden was as familiar with them and + commented upon their gifts as easily as if he had drawn his drama from the + Strand instead of from Broadway. The novels piled up in the stations of + what he called “the L” (which revealed itself as being a + New-York-haste abbreviation of Elevated railroad), were in large + proportion English novels, and he had his ingenuous estimate of English + novelists, as well as of all else. + </p> + <p> + “Ruddy, now,” he said; “I like him. He's all right, even + though we haven't quite caught onto India yet.” + </p> + <p> + The dazzle and brilliancy of Broadway so surrounded Penzance that he found + it necessary to withdraw himself and return to his immediate surroundings, + that he might recover from his sense of interested bewilderment. His eyes + fell upon the stern lineaments of a Mount Dunstan in a costume of the time + of Henry VIII. He was a burly gentleman, whose ruff-shortened thick neck + and haughty fixedness of stare from the background of his portrait were + such as seemed to eliminate him from the scheme of things, the clanging of + electric cars, and the prevailing roar of the L. Confronted by his gaze, + electric light advertisements of whiskies, cigars, and corsets seemed + impossible. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” continued G. Selden. “I'm ready to + separate myself from one fifty any time I see a new book of his. He's got + the goods with him.” + </p> + <p> + The richness of colloquialism moved the vicar of Mount Dunstan to deep + enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind—I trust you won't,” he apologised + courteously, “telling me exactly the significance of those two last + sentences. In think I see their meaning, but——” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden looked good-naturedly apologetic himself. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's slang—you see,” he explained. “I guess + I can't help it. You—” flushing a trifle, but without any + touch of resentment in the boyish colour, “you know what sort of a + chap I am. I'm not passing myself off as anything but an ordinary business + hustler, am I—just under salesman to a typewriter concern? I + shouldn't like to think I'd got in here on any bluff. I guess I sling in + slang every half dozen words——.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” Penzance was absolutely moved and he spoke with + warmth quite paternal, “Lord Mount Dunstan and I are genuinely + interested—genuinely. He, because he knows New York a little, and I + because I don't. I am an elderly man, and have spent my life buried in my + books in drowsy villages. Pray go on. Your American slang has frequently a + delightful meaning—a fantastic hilarity, or common sense, or + philosophy, hidden in its origin. In that it generally differs from + English slang, which—I regret to say—is usually founded on + some silly catch word. Pray go on. When you see a new book by Mr. Kipling, + you are ready to 'separate yourself from one fifty' because he 'has the + goods with him.'” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden suppressed an involuntary young laugh. + </p> + <p> + “One dollar and fifty cents is usually the price of a book,” + he said. “You separate yourself from it when you take it out of your + clothes—I mean out of your pocket—and pay it over the counter.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a careless humour in it,” said Mount Dunstan grimly. + “The suggestion of parting is not half bad. On the whole, it is + subtle.” + </p> + <p> + “A great deal of it is subtle,” said Penzance, “though + it all professes to be obvious. The other sentence has a commercial sound.” + </p> + <p> + “When a man goes about selling for a concern,” said the junior + assistant of Jones, “he can prove what he says, if he has the goods + with him. I guess it came from that. I don't know. I only know that when a + man is a straight sort of fellow, and can show up, we say he's got the + goods with him.” + </p> + <p> + They sat after lunch in the library, before an open window, looking into a + lovely sunken garden. Blossoms were breaking out on every side, and + robins, thrushes, and blackbirds chirped and trilled and whistled, as + Mount Dunstan and Penzance led G. Selden on to paint further pictures for + them. + </p> + <p> + Some of them were rather painful, Penzance thought. As connected with + youth, they held a touch of pathos Selden was all unconscious of. He had + had a hard life, made up, since his tenth year, of struggles to earn his + living. He had sold newspapers, he had run errands, he had swept out a + “candy store.” He had had a few years at the public school, + and a few months at a business college, to which he went at night, after + work hours. He had been “up against it good and plenty,” he + told them. He seemed, however, to have had a knack of making friends and + of giving them “a boost along” when such a chance was + possible. Both of his listeners realised that a good many people had liked + him, and the reason was apparent enough to them. + </p> + <p> + “When a chap gets sorry for himself,” he remarked once, + “he's down and out. That's a stone-cold fact. There's lots of + hard-luck stories that you've got to hear anyhow. The fellow that can keep + his to himself is the fellow that's likely to get there.” + </p> + <p> + “Get there?” the vicar murmured reflectively, and Selden + chuckled again. + </p> + <p> + “Get where he started out to go to—the White House, if you + like. The fellows that have got there kept their hardluck stories quiet, I + bet. Guess most of 'em had plenty during election, if they were the kind + to lie awake sobbing on their pillows because their feelings were hurt.” + </p> + <p> + He had never been sorry for himself, it was evident, though it must be + admitted that there were moments when the elderly English clergyman, whose + most serious encounters had been annoying interviews with cottagers of + disrespectful manner, rather shuddered as he heard his simple recital of + days when he had tramped street after street, carrying his catalogue with + him, and trying to tell his story of the Delkoff to frantically busy men + who were driven mad by the importunate sight of him, to worried, + ill-tempered ones who broke into fury when they heard his voice, and to + savage brutes who were only restrained by law from kicking him into the + street. + </p> + <p> + “You've got to take it, if you don't want to lose your job. Some of + them's as tired as you are. Sometimes, if you can give 'em a jolly and + make 'em laugh, they'll listen, and you may unload a machine. But it's no + merry jest just at first—particularly in bad weather. The first five + weeks I was with the Delkoff I never made a sale. Had to live on my ten + per, and that's pretty hard in New York. Three and a half for your hall + bedroom, and the rest for your hash and shoes. But I held on, and + gradually luck began to turn, and I began not to care so much when a man + gave it to me hot.” + </p> + <p> + The vicar of Mount Dunstan had never heard of the “hall bedroom” + as an institution. A dozen unconscious sentences placed it before his + mental vision. He thought it horribly touching. A narrow room at the back + of a cheap lodging house, a bed, a strip of carpet, a washstand—this + the sole refuge of a male human creature, in the flood tide of youth, no + more than this to come back to nightly, footsore and resentful of soul, + after a day's tramp spent in forcing himself and his wares on people who + did not want him or them, and who found infinite variety in the + forcefulness of their method of saying so. + </p> + <p> + “What you know, when you go into a place, is that nobody wants to + see you, and no one will let you talk if they can help it. The only thing + is to get in and rattle off your stunt before you can be fired out.” + </p> + <p> + Sometimes at first he had gone back at night to the hall bedroom, and sat + on the edge of the narrow bed, swinging his feet, and asking himself how + long he could hold out. But he had held out, and evidently developed into + a good salesman, being bold and of imperturbable good spirits and temper, + and not troubled by hypersensitiveness. Hearing of the “hall + bedroom,” the coldness of it in winter, and the breathless heat in + summer, the utter loneliness of it at all times and seasons, one could not + have felt surprise if the grown-up lad doomed to its narrowness as home + had been drawn into the electric-lighted gaiety of Broadway, and being + caught in its maelstrom, had been sucked under to its lowest depths. But + it was to be observed that G. Selden had a clear eye, and a healthy skin, + and a healthy young laugh yet, which were all wonderfully to his credit, + and added enormously to one's liking for him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you use a typewriter?” he said at last to Mr. Penzance. + “It would cut out half your work with your sermons. If you do use + one, I'd just like to call your attention to the Delkoff. It's the most + up-to-date machine on the market to-day,” drawing out the catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “I do not use one, and I am extremely sorry to say that I could not + afford to buy one,” said Mr. Penzance with considerate courtesy, + “but do tell me about it. I am afraid I never saw a typewriter.” + </p> + <p> + It was the most hospitable thing he could have done, and was of the tact + of courts. He arranged his pince nez, and taking the catalogue, applied + himself to it. G. Selden's soul warmed within him. To be listened to like + this. To be treated as a gentleman by a gentleman—by “a fine + old swell like this—Hully gee!” + </p> + <p> + “This isn't what I'm used to,” he said with genuine enjoyment. + “It doesn't matter, your not being ready to buy now. You may be + sometime, or you may run up against someone who is. Little Willie's always + ready to say his piece.” + </p> + <p> + He poured it forth with glee—the improved mechanical appliances, the + cuts in the catalogue, the platen roller, the ribbon switch, the + twenty-six yards of red or blue typing, the fifty per cent. saving in + ribbon expenditure alone, the new basket shift, the stationary carriage, + the tabulator, the superiority to all other typewriting machines—the + price one hundred dollars without discount. And both Mount Dunstan and Mr. + Penzance listened entranced, examined cuts in the catalogue, asked + questions, and in fact ended by finding that they must repress an actual + desire to possess the luxury. The joy their attitude bestowed upon Selden + was the thing he would feel gave the finishing touch to the hours which he + would recall to the end of his days as the “time of his life.” + Yes, by gee! he was having “the time of his life.” + </p> + <p> + Later he found himself feeling—as Miss Vanderpoel had felt—rather + as if the whole thing was a dream. This came upon him when, with Mount + Dunstan and Penzance, he walked through the park and the curiously + beautiful old gardens. The lovely, soundless quiet, broken into only by + bird notes, or his companions' voices, had an extraordinary effect on him. + </p> + <p> + “It's so still you can hear it,” he said once, stopping in a + velvet, moss-covered path. “Seems like you've got quiet shut up + here, and you've turned it on till the air's thick with it. Good Lord, + think of little old Broadway keeping it up, and the L whizzing and + thundering along every three minutes, just the same, while we're standing + here! You can't believe it.” + </p> + <p> + It would have gone hard with him to describe to them the value of his + enjoyment. Again and again there came back to him the memory of the + grandmother who wore the black net cap trimmed with purple ribbons. + Apparently she had remained to the last almost contumaciously British. She + had kept photographs of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort on her + bedroom mantelpiece, and had made caustic, international comparisons. But + she had seen places like this, and her stories became realities to him + now. But she had never thought of the possibility of any chance of his + being shown about by the lord of the manor himself—lunching, by gee! + and talking to them about typewriters. He vaguely knew that if the + grandmother had not emigrated, and he had been born in Dunstan village, he + would naturally have touched his forehead to Mount Dunstan and the vicar + when they passed him in the road, and conversation between them would have + been an unlikely thing. Somehow things had been changed by Destiny—perhaps + for the whole of them, as years had passed. + </p> + <p> + What he felt when he stood in the picture gallery neither of his + companions could at first guess. He ceased to talk, and wandered silently + about. Secretly he found himself a trifle awed by being looked down upon + by the unchanging eyes of men in strange, rich garments—in corslet, + ruff, and doublet, velvet, powder, curled love locks, brocade and lace. + The face of long-dead loveliness smiled out from its canvas, or withheld + itself haughtily from his salesman's gaze. Wonderful bare white shoulders, + and bosoms clasped with gems or flowers and lace, defied him to recall any + treasures of Broadway to compare with them. Elderly dames, garbed in stiff + splendour, held stiff, unsympathetic inquiry in their eyes, as they looked + back upon him. What exactly was a thirty shilling bicycle suit doing + there? In the Delkoff, plainly none were interested. A pretty, + masquerading shepherdess, with a lamb and a crook, seemed to laugh at him + from under her broad beribboned straw hat. After looking at her for a + minute or so, he gave a half laugh himself—but it was an awkward + one. + </p> + <p> + “She's a looker,” he remarked. “They're a lot of them + lookers—not all—but a fair show——” + </p> + <p> + “A looker,” translated Mount Dunstan in a low voice to + Penzance, “means, I believe, a young women with good looks—a + beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she IS a looker, by gee,” said G. Selden, “but—but—” + the awkward half laugh, taking on a depressed touch of sheepishness, + “she makes me feel 'way off—they all do.” + </p> + <p> + That was it. Surrounded by them, he was fascinated but not cheered. They + were all so smilingly, or disdainfully, or indifferently unconscious of + the existence of the human thing of his class. His aspect, his life, and + his desires were as remote as those of prehistoric man. His Broadway, his + L railroad, his Delkoff—what were they where did they come into the + scheme of the Universe? They silently gazed and lightly smiled or frowned + THROUGH him as he stood. He was probably not in the least aware that he + rather loudly sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “they make me feel 'way off. I'm not in + it. But she is a looker. Get onto that dimple in her cheek.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan and Penzance spent the afternoon in doing their best for + him. He was well worth it. Mr. Penzance was filled with delight, and + saturated with the atmosphere of New York. + </p> + <p> + “I feel,” he said, softly polishing his eyeglasses and almost + affectionately smiling, “I really feel as if I had been walking down + Broadway or Fifth Avenue. I believe that I might find my way to—well, + suppose we say Weber & Field's,” and G. Selden shouted with + glee. + </p> + <p> + Never before, in fact, had he felt his heart so warmed by spontaneous + affection as it was by this elderly, somewhat bald and thin-faced + clergyman of the Church of England. This he had never seen before. Without + the trained subtlety to have explained to himself the finely sweet and + simply gracious deeps of it, he was moved and uplifted. He was glad he had + “come across” it, he felt a vague regret at passing on his + way, and leaving it behind. He would have liked to feel that perhaps he + might come back. He would have liked to present him with a Delkoff, and + teach him how to run it. He had delighted in Mount Dunstan, and rejoiced + in him, but he had rather fallen in love with Penzance. Certain American + doubts he had had of the solidity and permanency of England's position and + power were somewhat modified. When fellows like these two stood at the + first rank, little old England was a pretty safe proposition. + </p> + <p> + After they had given him tea among the scents and songs of the sunken + garden outside the library window, they set him on his way. The shadows + were lengthening and the sunlight falling in deepening gold when they + walked up the avenue and shook hands with him at the big entrance gates. + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen,” he said, “you've treated me grand—as + fine as silk, and it won't be like Little Willie to forget it. When I go + back to New York it'll be all I can do to keep from getting the swell head + and bragging about it. I've enjoyed myself down to the ground, every + minute. I'm not the kind of fellow to be likely to be able to pay you back + your kindness, but, hully gee! if I could I'd do it to beat the band. + Good-bye, gentlemen—and thank you—thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Across which one of their minds passed the thought that the sound of the + hollow impact of a trotting horse's hoofs on the road, which each that + moment became conscious of hearing was the sound of the advancing foot of + Fate? It crossed no mind among the three. There was no reason why it + should. And yet at that moment the meaning of the regular, stirring sound + was a fateful thing. + </p> + <p> + “Someone on horseback,” said Penzance. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely spoken before round the curve of the road she came. A + finely slender and spiritedly erect girl's figure, upon a satin-skinned + bright chestnut with a thoroughbred gait, a smart groom riding behind her. + She came towards them, was abreast them, looked at Mount Dunstan, a + smiling dimple near her lip as she returned his quick salute. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Vanderpoel,” he said low to the vicar, “Lady + Anstruther's sister.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance, replacing his own hat, looked after her with surprised + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he exclaimed, “Miss Vanderpoel! What a fine + girl! How unusually handsome!” + </p> + <p> + Selden turned with a gasp of delighted, amazed recognition. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Vanderpoel,” he burst forth, “Reuben Vanderpoel's + daughter! The one that's over here visiting her sister. Is it that one—sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” from Mount Dunstan without fervour. “Lady + Anstruthers lives at Stornham, about six miles from here.” + </p> + <p> + “Gee,” with feverish regret. “If her father was there, + and I could get next to him, my fortune would be made.” + </p> + <p> + “Should you,” ventured Penzance politely, “endeavour to + sell him a typewriter?” + </p> + <p> + “A typewriter! Holy smoke! I'd try to sell him ten thousand. A + fellow like that syndicates the world. If I could get next to him——” + and he mounted his bicycle with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Get next,” murmured Penzance. + </p> + <p> + “Get on the good side of him,” Mount Dunstan murmured in + reply. + </p> + <p> + “So long, gentlemen, good-bye, and thank you again,” called G. + Selden as he wheeled off, and was carried soundlessly down the golden + road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE POLITICAL ECONOMY OF STORNHAM + </h3> + <p> + The satin-skinned chestnut was one of the new horses now standing in the + Stornham stables. There were several of them—a pair for the landau, + saddle horses, smart young cobs for phaeton or dog cart, a pony for + Ughtred—the animals necessary at such a place at Stornham. The + stables themselves had been quickly put in order, grooms and stable boys + kept them as they had not been kept for years. The men learned in a week's + time that their work could not be done too well. There were new carriages + as well as horses. They had come from London after Lady Anstruthers and + her sister returned from town. The horses had been brought down by their + grooms—immensely looked after, blanketed, hooded, and altogether + cared for as if they were visiting dukes and duchesses. They were all + fine, handsome, carefully chosen creatures. When they danced and sidled + through the village on their way to the Court, they created a sensation. + Whosoever had chosen them had known his business. The older vehicles had + been repaired in the village by Tread, and did him credit. Fox had also + done his work well. + </p> + <p> + Plenty more of it had come into their work-shops. Tools to be used on the + estate, garden implements, wheelbarrows, lawn rollers, things needed about + the house, stables, and cottages, were to be attended to. The church roof + was being repaired. Taking all these things and the “doing up” + of the Court itself, there was more work than the village could manage, + and carpenters, bricklayers, and decorators were necessarily brought from + other places. Still Joe Buttle and Sim Soames were allowed to lead in all + such things as lay within their capabilities. It was they who made such a + splendid job of the entrance gates and the lodges. It was astonishing how + much was done, and how the sense of life in the air—the work of + resulting prosperity, made men begin to tread with less listless steps as + they went to and from their labour. In the cottages things were being done + which made downcast women bestir themselves and look less slatternly. + Leaks mended here, windows there, the hopeless copper in the tiny + washhouse replaced by a new one, chimneys cured of the habit of smoking, a + clean, flowered paper put on a wall, a coat of whitewash—they were + small matters, but produced great effect. + </p> + <p> + Betty had begun to drop into the cottages, and make the acquaintance of + their owners. Her first visits, she observed, created great consternation. + Women looked frightened or sullen, children stared and refused to speak, + clinging to skirts and aprons. She found the atmosphere clear after her + second visit. The women began to talk, and the children collected in + groups and listened with cheerful grins. She could pick up little Jane's + kitten, or give a pat to small Thomas' mongrel dog, in a manner which + threw down barriers. + </p> + <p> + “Don't put out your pipe,” she said to old Grandfather Doby, + rising totteringly respectful from his chimney-side chair. “You have + only just lighted it. You mustn't waste a whole pipeful of tobacco because + I have come in.” + </p> + <p> + The old man, grown childish with age, tittered and shuffled and giggled. + Such a joke as the grand young lady was having with him. She saw he had + only just lighted his pipe. The gentry joked a bit sometimes. But he was + afraid of his grandson's wife, who was frowning and shaking her head. + </p> + <p> + Betty went to him, and put her hand on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” she said, “and I will sit by you.” And + she sat down and showed him that she had brought a package of tobacco with + her, and actually a wonder of a red and yellow jar to hold it, at the + sight of which unheard-of joys his rapture was so great that his trembling + hands could scarcely clasp his treasures. + </p> + <p> + “Tee-hee! Tee-hee-ee! Deary me! Thankee—thankee, my lady,” + he tittered, and he gazed and blinked at her beauty through heavenly + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Nearly a hundred years old, and he has lived on sixteen shillings a + week all his life, and earned it by working every hour between sunrise and + sunset,” Betty said to her sister, when she went home. “A man + has one life, and his has passed like that. It is done now, and all the + years and work have left nothing in his old hands but his pipe. That's + all. I should not like to put it out for him. Who am I that I can buy him + a new one, and keep it filled for him until the end? How did it happen? + No,” suddenly, “I must not lose time in asking myself that. I + must get the new pipe.” + </p> + <p> + She did it—a pipe of great magnificence—such as drew to the + Doby cottage as many callers as the village could provide, each coming + with fevered interest, to look at it—to be allowed to hold and + examine it for a few moments, guessing at its probable enormous cost, and + returning it reverently, to gaze at Doby with respect—the increase + of which can be imagined when it was known that he was not only possessor + of the pipe, but of an assurance that he would be supplied with as much + tobacco as he could use, to the end of his days. From the time of the + advent of the pipe, Grandfather Doby became a man of mark, and his life in + the chimney corner a changed thing. A man who owns splendours and + unlimited, excellent shag may like friends to drop in and crack jokes—and + even smoke a pipe with him—a common pipe, which, however, is not + amiss when excellent shag comes free. + </p> + <p> + “He lives in a wild whirl of gaiety—a social vortex,” + said Betty to Lady Anstruthers, after one of her visits. “He is + actually rejuvenated. I must order some new white smocks for him to + receive his visitors in. Someone brought him an old copy of the + Illustrated London News last night. We will send him illustrated papers + every week.” + </p> + <p> + In the dull old brain, God knows what spark of life had been relighted. + Young Mrs. Doby related with chuckles that granddad had begged that his + chair might be dragged to the window, that he might sit and watch the + village street. Sitting there, day after day, he smoked and looked at his + pictures, and dozed and dreamed, his pipe and tobacco jar beside him on + the window ledge. At any sound of wheels or footsteps his face lighted, + and if, by chance, he caught a glimpse of Betty, he tottered to his feet, + and stood hurriedly touching his bald forehead with a reverent, palsied + hand. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis 'urr,” he would say, enrapt. “I seen 'urr—I + did.” And young Mrs. Doby knew that this was his joy, and what he + waited for as one waits for the coming of the sun. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis 'urr! 'Tis 'urr!” + </p> + <p> + The vicar's wife, Mrs. Brent, who since the affair of John Wilson's fire + had dropped into the background and felt it indiscreet to present tales of + distress at the Court, began to recover her courage. Her perfunctory + visits assumed a new character. The vicarage had, of course, called + promptly upon Miss Vanderpoel, after her arrival. Mrs. Brent admired Miss + Vanderpoel hugely. + </p> + <p> + “You seem so unlike an American,” she said once in her most + tactful, ingratiating manner—which was very ingratiating indeed. + </p> + <p> + “Do I? What is one like when one is like an American? I am one, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “I can scarcely believe it,” with sweet ardour. + </p> + <p> + “Pray try,” said Betty with simple brevity, and Mrs. Brent + felt that perhaps Miss Vanderpoel was not really very easy to get on with. + </p> + <p> + “She meant to imply that I did not speak through my nose, and talk + too much, and too vivaciously, in a shrill voice,” Betty said + afterwards, in talking the interview over with Rosy. “I like to + convince myself that is not one's sole national characteristic. Also it + was not exactly Mrs. Brent's place to kindly encourage me with the + information that I do not seem to belong to my own country.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers laughed, and Betty looked at her inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “You said that just like—just like an Englishwoman.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I?” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brent had come to talk to her because she did not wish to trouble + dear Lady Anstruthers. Lady Anstruthers already looked much stronger, but + she had been delicate so long that one hesitated to distress her with + village matters. She did not add that she realised that she was coming to + headquarters. The vicar and herself were much disturbed about a rather + tiresome old woman—old Mrs. Welden—who lived in a tiny cottage + in the village. She was eighty-three years old, and a respectable old + person—a widow, who had reared ten children. The children had all + grown up, and scattered, and old Mrs. Welden had nothing whatever to live + on. No one knew how she lived, and really she would be better off in the + workhouse. She could be sent to Brexley Union, and comfortably taken care + of, but she had that singular, obstinate dislike to going, which it was so + difficult to manage. She had asked for a shilling a week from the parish, + but that could not be allowed her, as it would merely uphold her in her + obstinate intention of remaining in her cottage, and taking care of + herself—which she could not do. Betty gathered that the shilling a + week would be a drain on the parish funds, and would so raise the old + creature to affluence that she would feel she could defy fate. And the + contumacity of old men and women should not be strengthened by the + reckless bestowal of shillings. + </p> + <p> + Knowing that Miss Vanderpoel had already gained influence among the + village people, Mrs. Brent said, she had come to ask her if she would see + old Mrs. Welden and argue with her in such a manner as would convince her + that the workhouse was the best place for her. It was, of course, so much + pleasanter if these old people could be induced to go to Brexley + willingly. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I be undermining the whole Political Economy of Stornham if I + take care of her myself?” suggested Betty. + </p> + <p> + “You—you will lead others to expect the same thing will be + done for them.” + </p> + <p> + “When one has resources to draw on,” Miss Vanderpoel + commented, “in the case of a woman who has lived eighty-three years + and brought up ten children until they were old and strong enough to leave + her to take care of herself, it is difficult for the weak of mind to apply + the laws of Political Economics. I will go and see old Mrs. Welden.” + </p> + <p> + If the Vanderpoels would provide for all the obstinate old men and women + in the parish, the Political Economics of Stornham would proffer no marked + objections. “A good many Americans,” Mrs. Brent reflected, + “seemed to have those odd, lavish ways,” as witness Lady + Anstruthers herself, on her first introduction to village life. Miss + Vanderpoel was evidently a much stronger character, and extremely clever, + and somehow the stream of the American fortune was at last being directed + towards Stornham—which, of course, should have happened long ago. A + good deal was “being done,” and the whole situation looked + more promising. So was the matter discussed and summed up, the same + evening after dinner, at the vicarage. + </p> + <p> + Betty found old Mrs. Welden's cottage. It was in a green lane, turning + from the village street—which was almost a green lane itself. A tiny + hedged-in front garden was before the cottage door. A crazy-looking wicket + gate was in the hedge, and a fuschia bush and a few old roses were in the + few yards of garden. There were actually two or three geraniums in the + window, showing cheerful scarlet between the short, white dimity curtains. + </p> + <p> + “A house this size and of this poverty in an American village,” + was Betty's thought, “would be a bare and straggling hideousness, + with old tomato cans in the front yard. Here is one of the things we have + to learn from them.” + </p> + <p> + When she knocked at the door an old woman opened it. She was a + well-preserved and markedly respectable old person, in a decent print + frock and a cap. At the sight of her visitor she beamed and made a + suggestion of curtsey. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mrs. Welden?” said Betty. “I am Lady + Anstruthers' sister, Miss Vanderpoel. I thought I would like to come and + see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, miss, I am obliged for the kindness, miss. Won't you + come in and have a chair?” + </p> + <p> + There were no signs of decrepitude about her, and she had a cheery old + eye. The tiny front room was neat, though there was scarcely space enough + in it to contain the table covered with its blue-checked cotton cloth, the + narrow sofa, and two or three chairs. There were a few small coloured + prints, and a framed photograph or so on the walls, and on the table was a + Bible, and a brown earthenware teapot, and a plate. + </p> + <p> + “Tom Wood's wife, that's neighbour next door to me,” she said, + “gave me a pinch o' tea—an' I've just been 'avin it. Tom + Woods, miss, 'as just been took on by Muster Kedgers as one of the new + under gardeners at the Court.” + </p> + <p> + Betty found her delightful. She made no complaints, and was evidently + pleased with the excitement of receiving a visitor. The truth was, that in + common with every other old woman, she had secretly aspired to being + visited some day by the amazing young lady from “Meriker.” + Betty had yet to learn of the heartburnings which may be occasioned by an + unconscious favouritism. She was not aware that when she dropped in to + talk to old Doby, his neighbour, old Megworth, peered from behind his + curtains, with the dew of envy in his rheumy eyes. + </p> + <p> + “S'ems,” he mumbled, “as if they wasn't nobody now in + Stornham village but Gaarge Doby—s'ems not.” They were very + fierce in their jealousy of attention, and one must beware of rousing evil + passions in the octogenarian breast. + </p> + <p> + The young lady from “Meriker” had not so far had time to make + a call at any cottage in old Mrs. Welden's lane—and she had knocked + just at old Mrs. Welden's door. This was enough to put in good spirits + even a less cheery old person. + </p> + <p> + At first Betty wondered how she could with delicacy ask personal + questions. A few minutes' conversation, however, showed her that the + personal affairs of Sir Nigel's tenants were also the affairs of not only + himself, but of such of his relatives as attended to their natural duty. + Her presence in the cottage, and her interest in Mrs. Welden's ready flow + of simple talk, were desirable and proper compliments to the old woman + herself. She was a decent and self-respecting old person, but in her mind + there was no faintest glimmer of resentment of questions concerning rent + and food and the needs of her simple, hard-driven existence. She had + answered such questions on many occasions, when they had not been asked in + the manner in which her ladyship's sister asked them. Mrs. Brent had + scolded her and “poked about” her cottage, going into her tiny + “wash 'us,” and up into her infinitesimal bedroom under the + slanting roof, to see that they were kept clean. Miss Vanderpoel showed no + disposition to “poke.” She sat and listened, and made an + inquiry here and there, in a nice voice and with a smile in her eyes. + There was some pleasure in relating the whole history of your eighty-three + years to a young lady who listened as if she wanted to hear it. So old + Mrs. Welden prattled on. About her good days, when she was young, and was + kitchenmaid at the parsonage in a village twenty miles away; about her + marriage with a young farm labourer; about his “steady” + habits, and the comfort they had together, in spite of the yearly arrival + of a new baby, and the crowding of the bit of a cottage his master allowed + them. Ten of 'em, and it had been “up before sunrise, and a good bit + of hard work to keep them all fed and clean.” But she had not minded + that until Jack died quite sudden after a sunstroke. It was odd how much + colour her rustic phraseology held. She made Betty see it all. The + apparent natural inevitableness of their being turned out of the cottage, + because another man must have it; the years during which she worked her + way while the ten were growing up, having measles, and chicken pox, and + scarlet fever, one dying here and there, dropping out quite in the natural + order of things, and being buried by the parish in corners of the ancient + church yard. Three of them “was took” by scarlet fever, then + one of a “decline,” then one or two by other illnesses. Only + four reached man and womanhood. One had gone to Australia, but he never + was one to write, and after a year or two, Betty gathered, he had seemed + to melt away into the great distance. Two girls had married, and Mrs. + Welden could not say they had been “comf'able.” They could + barely feed themselves and their swarms of children. The other son had + never been steady like his father. He had at last gone to London, and + London had swallowed him up. Betty was struck by the fact that she did not + seem to feel that the mother of ten might have expected some return for + her labours, at eighty-three. + </p> + <p> + Her unresentful acceptance of things was at once significant and moving. + Betty found her amazing. What she lived on it was not easy to understand. + She seemed rather like a cheerful old bird, getting up each unprovided-for + morning, and picking up her sustenance where she found it. + </p> + <p> + “There's more in the sayin' 'the Lord pervides' than a good many + thinks,” she said with a small chuckle, marked more by a genial and + comfortable sense of humour than by an air of meritoriously quoting the + vicar. “He DO.” + </p> + <p> + She paid one and threepence a week in rent for her cottage, and this was + the most serious drain upon her resources. She apparently could live + without food or fire, but the rent must be paid. “An' I do get a bit + be'ind sometimes,” she confessed apologetically, “an' then + it's a trouble to get straight.” + </p> + <p> + Her cottage was one of a short row, and she did odd jobs for the women who + were her neighbours. There were always babies to be looked after, and + “bits of 'elp” needed, sometimes there were “movings” + from one cottage to another, and “confinements” were plainly + at once exhilarating and enriching. Her temperamental good cheer, combined + with her experience, made her a desirable companion and assistant. She was + engagingly frank. + </p> + <p> + “When they're new to it, an' a bit frightened, I just give 'em a cup + of 'ot tea, an' joke with 'em to cheer 'em up,” she said. “I + says to Charles Jenkins' wife, as lives next door, 'come now, me girl, + it's been goin' on since Adam an' Eve, an' there's a good many of us left, + isn't there?' An' a fine boy it was, too, miss, an' 'er up an' about + before 'er month.” + </p> + <p> + She was paid in sixpences and spare shillings, and in cups of tea, or a + fresh-baked loaf, or screws of sugar, or even in a garment not yet worn + beyond repair. And she was free to run in and out, and grow a flower or so + in her garden, and talk with a neighbour over the low dividing hedge. + </p> + <p> + “They want me to go into the 'Ouse,'” reaching the dangerous + subject at last. “They say I'll be took care of an' looked after. + But I don't want to do it, miss. I want to keep my bit of a 'ome if I can, + an' be free to come an' go. I'm eighty-three, an' it won't be long. I 'ad + a shilling a week from the parish, but they stopped it because they said I + ought to go into the 'Ouse.'” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Betty with a momentarily anxious smile. + </p> + <p> + “P'raps you don't quite understand, miss,” she said. “It'll + seem like nothin' to you—a place like this.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't,” Betty answered, smiling bravely back into the + old eyes, though she felt a slight fulness of the throat. “I + understand all about it.” + </p> + <p> + It is possible that old Mrs. Welden was a little taken aback by an + attitude which, satisfactory to her own prejudices though it might be, + was, taken in connection with fixed customs, a trifle unnatural. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mind me not wantin' to go?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the answer, “not at all.” + </p> + <p> + Betty began to ask questions. How much tea, sugar, soap, candles, bread, + butter, bacon, could Mrs. Welden use in a week? It was not very easy to + find out the exact quantities, as Mrs. Welden's estimates of such things + had been based, during her entire existence, upon calculation as to how + little, not how much she could use. + </p> + <p> + When Betty suggested a pound of tea, a half pound—the old woman + smiled at the innocent ignorance the suggestion of such reckless profusion + implied. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Bless you, miss, no! I couldn't never do away with it. A + quarter, miss—that'd be plenty—a quarter.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Welden's idea of “the best,” was that at two shillings a + pound. Quarter of a pound would cost sixpence (twelve cents, thought + Betty). A pound of sugar would be twopence, Mrs. Welden would use half a + pound (the riotous extravagance of two cents). Half a pound of butter, + “Good tub butter, miss,” would be ten pence three farthings a + pound. Soap, candles, bacon, bread, coal, wood, in the quantities required + by Mrs. Welden, might, with the addition of rent, amount to the dizzying + height of eight or ten shillings. + </p> + <p> + “With careful extravagance,” Betty mentally summed up, “I + might spend almost two dollars a week in surrounding her with a riot of + luxury.” + </p> + <p> + She made a list of the things, and added some extras as an idea of her + own. Life had not afforded her this kind of thing before, she realised. + She felt for the first time the joy of reckless extravagance, and thrilled + with the excitement of it. + </p> + <p> + “You need not think of Brexley Union any more,” she said, when + she, having risen to go, stood at the cottage door with old Mrs. Welden. + “The things I have written down here shall be sent to you every + Saturday night. I will pay your rent.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss—miss!” Mrs. Welden looked affrighted. “It's + too much, miss. An' coals eighteen pence a hundred!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said her ladyship's sister, and the old woman, + looking up into her eyes, found there the colour Mount Dunstan had thought + of as being that of bluebells under water. “I think we can manage + it, Mrs. Welden. Keep yourself as warm as you like, and sometime I will + come and have a cup of tea with you and see if the tea is good.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Deary me!” said Mrs. Welden. “I can't think what to + say, miss. It lifts everythin'—everythin'. It's not to be believed. + It's like bein' left a fortune.” + </p> + <p> + When the wicket gate swung to and the young lady went up the lane, the old + woman stood staring after her. And here was a piece of news to run into + Charley Jenkins' cottage and tell—and what woman or man in the row + would quite believe it? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <h3> + “WE BEGAN TO MARRY THEM, MY GOOD FELLOW!” + </h3> + <p> + Lord Dunholm and his eldest son, Lord Westholt, sauntered together smoking + their after-dinner cigars on the broad-turfed terrace overlooking park and + gardens which seemed to sweep without boundary line into the purplish land + beyond. The grey mass of the castle stood clear-cut against the blue of a + sky whose twilight was still almost daylight, though in the purity of its + evening stillness a star already hung, here and there, and a young moon + swung low. The great spaces about them held a silence whose exquisite + entirety was marked at intervals by the distant bark of a shepherd dog + driving his master's sheep to the fold, their soft, intermittent plaints—the + mother ewes' mellow answering to the tender, fretful lambs—floated + on the air, a lovely part of the ending day's repose. Where two who are + friends stroll together at such hours, the great beauty makes for silence + or for thoughtful talk. These two men—father and son—were + friends and intimates, and had been so from Westholt's first memory of the + time when his childish individuality began to detach itself from the + background of misty and indistinct things. They had liked each other, and + their liking and intimacy had increased with the onward moving and change + of years. After sixty sane and decently spent active years of life, Lord + Dunholm, in either country tweed or evening dress, was a well-built and + handsome man; at thirty-three his son was still like him. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen her?” he was saying. + </p> + <p> + “Only at a distance. She was driving Lady Anstruthers across the + marshes in a cart. She drove well and——” he laughed as + he flicked the ash from his cigar—“the back of her head and + shoulders looked handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “The American young woman is at present a factor which is without + doubt to be counted with,” Lord Dunholm put the matter without + lightness. “Any young woman is a factor, but the American young + woman just now—just now——” He paused a moment as + though considering. “It did not seem at all necessary to count with + them at first, when they began to appear among us. They were generally + curiously exotic, funny little creatures with odd manners and voices. They + were often most amusing, and one liked to hear them chatter and see the + airy lightness with which they took superfluous, and sometimes + unsuperfluous, conventions, as a hunter takes a five-barred gate. But it + never occurred to us to marry them. We did not take them seriously enough. + But we began to marry them—we began to marry them, my good fellow!” + </p> + <p> + The final words broke forth with such a suggestion of sudden anxiety that, + in spite of himself, Westholt laughed involuntarily, and his father, + turning to look at him, laughed also. But he recovered his seriousness. + </p> + <p> + “It was all rather a muddle at first,” he went on. “Things + were not fairly done, and certain bad lots looked on it as a paying scheme + on the one side, while it was a matter of silly, little ambitions on the + other. But that it is an extraordinary country there is no sane denying—huge, + fabulously resourceful in every way—area, variety of climate, wealth + of minerals, products of all sorts, soil to grow anything, and sun and + rain enough to give each thing what it needs; last, or rather first, a + people who, considered as a nation, are in the riot of youth, and who + began by being English—which we Englishmen have an innocent belief + is the one method of 'owning the earth.' That figure of speech is an + Americanism I carefully committed to memory. Well, after all, look at the + map—look at the map! There we are.” + </p> + <p> + They had frequently discussed together the question of the development of + international relations. Lord Dunholm, a man of far-reaching and clear + logic, had realised that the oddly unaccentuated growth of intercourse + between the two countries might be a subject to be reflected on without + lightness. + </p> + <p> + “The habit we have of regarding America and Americans as rather a + joke,” he had once said, “has a sort of parallel in the + condescendingly amiable amusement of a parent at the precocity or + whimsicalness of a child. But the child is shooting up amazingly—amazingly. + In a way which suggests divers possibilities.” + </p> + <p> + The exchange of visits between Dunholm and Stornham had been rare and + formal. From the call made upon the younger Lady Anstruthers on her + marriage, the Dunholms had returned with a sense of puzzled pity for the + little American bride, with her wonderful frock and her uneasy, childish + eyes. For some years Lady Anstruthers had been too delicate to make or + return calls. One heard painful accounts of her apparent wretched + ill-health and of the condition of her husband's estate. + </p> + <p> + “As the relations between the two families have evidently been + strained for years,” Lord Dunholm said, “it is interesting to + hear of the sudden advent of the sister. It seems to point to + reconciliation. And you say the girl is an unusual person. + </p> + <p> + “From what one hears, she would be unusual if she were an English + girl who had spent her life on an English estate. That an American who is + making her first visit to England should seem to see at once the practical + needs of a neglected place is a thing to wonder at. What can she know + about it, one thinks. But she apparently does know. They say she has made + no mistakes—even with the village people. She is managing, in one + way or another, to give work to every man who wants it. Result, of course—unbounded + rustic enthusiasm.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Dunholm laughed between the soothing whiffs of his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “How clever of her! And what sensible good feeling! Yes—yes! + She evidently has learned things somewhere. Perhaps New York has found it + wise to begin to give young women professional training in the management + of English estates. Who knows? Not a bad idea.” + </p> + <p> + It was the rustic enthusiasm, Westholt explained, which had in a manner + spread her fame. One heard enlightening and illustrative anecdotes of her. + He related several well worth hearing. She had evidently a sense of humour + and unexpected perceptions. + </p> + <p> + “One detail of the story of old Doby's meerschaum,” Westholt + said, “pleased me enormously. She managed to convey to him—without + hurting his aged feelings or overwhelming him with embarrassment—that + if he preferred a clean churchwarden or his old briarwood, he need not + feel obliged to smoke the new pipe. He could regard it as a trophy. Now, + how did she do that without filling him with fright and confusion, lest + she might think him not sufficiently grateful for her present? But they + tell me she did it, and that old Doby is rapturously happy and takes the + meerschaum to bed with him, but only smokes it on Sundays—sitting at + his window blowing great clouds when his neighbours are coming from + church. It was a clever girl who knew that an old fellow might secretly + like his old pipe best.” + </p> + <p> + “It was a deliciously clever girl,” said Lord Dunholm. “One + wants to know and make friends with her. We must drive over and call. I + confess, I rather congratulate myself that Anstruthers is not at home.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” Westholt answered. “One wonders a little how + far he and his sister-in-law will 'foregather' when he returns. He's an + unpleasant beggar.” + </p> + <p> + A few days later Mrs. Brent, returning from a call on Mrs. Charley + Jenkins, was passed by a carriage whose liveries she recognised half way + up the village street. It was the carriage from Dunholm Castle. Lord and + Lady Dunholm and Lord Westholt sat in it. They were, of course, going to + call at the Court. Miss Vanderpoel was beginning to draw people. She + naturally would. She would be likely to make quite a difference in the + neighbourhood now that it had heard of her and Lady Anstruthers had been + seen driving with her, evidently no longer an unvisitable invalid, but + actually decently clothed and in her right mind. Mrs. Brent slackened her + steps that she might have the pleasure of receiving and responding + gracefully to salutations from the important personages in the landau. She + felt that the Dunholms were important. There were earldoms AND earldoms, + and that of Dunholm was dignified and of distinction. + </p> + <p> + A common-looking young man on a bicycle, who had wheeled into the village + with the carriage, riding alongside it for a hundred yards or so, stopped + before the Clock Inn and dismounted, just as Mrs. Brent neared him. He saw + her looking after the equipage, and lifting his cap spoke to her civilly. + </p> + <p> + “This is Stornham village, ain't it, ma'am?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my man.” His costume and general aspect seemed to + indicate that he was of the class one addressed as “my man,” + though there was something a little odd about him. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. That wasn't Miss Vanderpoel's eldest sister in that + carriage, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Vanderpoel's——” Mrs. Brent hesitated. + “Do you mean Lady Anstruthers?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd forgotten her name. I know Miss Vanderpoel's eldest sister + lives at Stornham—Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Anstruthers' younger sister is a Miss Vanderpoel, and she is + visiting at Stornham Court now.” Mrs. Brent could not help adding, + curiously, “Why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to see her. I'm an American.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brent coughed to cover a slight gasp. She had heard remarkable things + of the democratic customs of America. It was painful not to be able to ask + questions. + </p> + <p> + “The lady in the carriage was the Countess of Dunholm,” she + said rather grandly. “They are going to the Court to call on Miss + Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + “Then Miss Vanderpoel's there yet. That's all right. Thank you, + ma'am,” and lifting his cap again he turned into the little public + house. + </p> + <p> + The Dunholm party had been accustomed on their rare visits to Stornham to + be received by the kind of man-servant in the kind of livery which is a + manifest, though unwilling, confession. The men who threw open the doors + were of regulation height, well dressed, and of trained bearing. The + entrance hall had lost its hopeless shabbiness. It was a complete and + picturesquely luxurious thing. The change suggested magic. The magic which + had been used, Lord Dunholm reflected, was the simplest and most powerful + on earth. Given surroundings, combined with a gift for knowing values of + form and colour, if you have the power to spend thousands of guineas on + tiger skins, Oriental rugs, and other beauties, barrenness is easily + transformed. + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room wore a changed aspect, and at a first glance it was to be + seen that in poor little Lady Anstruthers, as she had generally been + called, there was to be noted alteration also. In her case the change, + being in its first stages, could not perhaps be yet called transformation, + but, aided by softly pretty arrangement of dress and hair, a light in her + eyes, and a suggestion of pink under her skin, one recalled that she had + once been a pretty little woman, and that after all she was only about + thirty-two years old. + </p> + <p> + That her sister, Miss Vanderpoel, had beauty, it was not necessary to + hesitate in deciding. Neither Lord Dunholm nor his wife nor their son did + hesitate. A girl with long limbs an alluring profile, and extraordinary + black lashes set round lovely Irish-blue eyes, possesses physical capital + not to be argued about. + </p> + <p> + She was not one of the curious, exotic little creatures, whose thin, + though sometimes rather sweet, and always gay, high-pitched young voices + Lord Dunholm had been so especially struck by in the early days of the + American invasion. Her voice had a tone one would be likely to remember + with pleasure. How well she moved—how well her black head was set on + her neck! Yes, she was of the new type—the later generation. + </p> + <p> + These amazing, oddly practical people had evolved it—planned it, + perhaps, bought—figuratively speaking—the architects and + material to design and build it—bought them in whatever country they + found them, England, France, Italy Germany—pocketing them coolly and + carrying them back home to develop, complete, and send forth into the + world when their invention was a perfected thing. Struck by the humour of + his fancy, Lord Dunholm found himself smiling into the Irish-blue eyes. + They smiled back at him in a way which warmed his heart. There were no + pauses in the conversation which followed. In times past, calls at + Stornham had generally held painfully blank moments. Lady Dunholm was as + pleased as her husband. A really charming girl was an enormous acquisition + to the neighbourhood. + </p> + <p> + Westholt, his father saw, had found even more than the story of old Doby's + pipe had prepared him to expect. + </p> + <p> + Country calls were not usually interesting or stimulating, and this one + was. Lord Dunholm laid subtly brilliant plans to lead Miss Vanderpoel to + talk of her native land and her views of it. He knew that she would say + things worth hearing. Incidentally one gathered picturesque detail. To + have vibrated between the two continents since her thirteenth year, to + have spent a few years at school in one country, a few years in another, + and yet a few years more in still another, as part of an arranged + educational plan; to have crossed the Atlantic for the holidays, and to + have journeyed thousands of miles with her father in his private car; to + make the visits of a man of great schemes to his possessions of mines, + railroads, and lands which were almost principalities—these things + had been merely details of her life, adding interest and variety, it was + true, but seeming the merely normal outcome of existence. They were normal + to Vanderpoels and others of their class who were abnormalities in + themselves when compared with the rest of the world. + </p> + <p> + Her own very lack of any abnormality reached, in Lord Dunholm's mind, the + highest point of illustration of the phase of life she beautifully + represented—for beautiful he felt its rare charms were. + </p> + <p> + When they strolled out to look at the gardens he found talk with her no + less a stimulating thing. She told her story of Kedgers, and showed the + chosen spot where thickets of lilies were to bloom, with the giants + lifting white archangel trumpets above them in the centre. + </p> + <p> + “He can be trusted,” she said. “I feel sure he can be + trusted. He loves them. He could not love them so much and not be able to + take care of them.” And as she looked at him in frank appeal for + sympathy, Lord Dunholm felt that for the moment she looked like a tall, + queenly child. + </p> + <p> + But pleased as he was, he presently gave up his place at her side to + Westholt. He must not be a selfish old fellow and monopolise her. He hoped + they would see each other often, he said charmingly. He thought she would + be sure to like Dunholm, which was really a thoroughly English old place, + marked by all the features she seemed so much attracted by. There were + some beautiful relics of the past there, and some rather shocking ones—certain + dungeons, for instance, and a gallows mount, on which in good old times + the family gallows had stood. This had apparently been a working adjunct + to the domestic arrangements of every respectable family, and that + irritating persons should dangle from it had been a simple domestic + necessity, if one were to believe old stories. + </p> + <p> + “It was then that nobles were regarded with respect,” he said, + with his fine smile. “In the days when a man appeared with clang of + arms and with javelins and spears before, and donjon keeps in the + background, the attitude of bent knees and awful reverence were the + inevitable results. When one could hang a servant on one's own private + gallows, or chop off his hand for irreverence or disobedience—obedience + and reverence were a rule. Now, a month's notice is the extremity of + punishment, and the old pomp of armed servitors suggests comic opera. But + we can show you relics of it at Dunholm.” + </p> + <p> + He joined his wife and began at once to make himself so delightful to Rosy + that she ceased to be afraid of him, and ended by talking almost gaily of + her London visit. + </p> + <p> + Betty and Westholt walked together. The afternoon being lovely, they had + all sauntered into the park to look at certain views, and the sun was + shining between the trees. Betty thought the young man almost as charming + as his father, which was saying much. She had fallen wholly in love with + Lord Dunholm—with his handsome, elderly face, his voice, his erect + bearing, his fine smile, his attraction of manner, his courteous ease and + wit. He was one of the men who stood for the best of all they had been + born to represent. Her own father, she felt, stood for the best of all + such an American as himself should be. Lord Westholt would in time be what + his father was. He had inherited from him good looks, good feeling, and a + sense of humour. Yes, he had been given from the outset all that the other + man had been denied. She was thinking of Mount Dunstan as “the other + man,” and spoke of him. + </p> + <p> + “You know Lord Mount Dunstan?” she said. + </p> + <p> + Westholt hesitated slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—and no,” he answered, after the hesitation. “No + one knows him very well. You have not met him?” with a touch of + surprise in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “He was a passenger on the Meridiana when I last crossed the + Atlantic. There was a slight accident and we were thrown together for a + few moments. Afterwards I met him by chance again. I did not know who he + was.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Westholt showed signs of hesitation anew. In fact, he was rather + disturbed. She evidently did not know anything whatever of the Mount + Dunstans. She would not be likely to hear the details of the scandal which + had obliterated them, as it were, from the decent world. + </p> + <p> + The present man, though he had not openly been mixed up with the hideous + thing, had borne the brand because he had not proved himself to possess + any qualities likely to recommend him. It was generally understood that he + was a bad lot also. To such a man the allurements such a young woman as + Miss Vanderpoel would present would be extraordinary. It was unfortunate + that she should have been thrown in his way. At the same time it was not + possible to state the case clearly during one's first call on a beautiful + stranger. + </p> + <p> + “His going to America was rather spirited,” said the mellow + voice beside him. “I thought only Americans took their fates in + their hands in that way. For a man of his class to face a rancher's life + means determination. It means the spirit——” with a low + little laugh at the leap of her imagination—“of the men who + were Mount Dunstans in early days and went forth to fight for what they + meant to have. He went to fight. He ought to have won. He will win some + day.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know about fighting,” Lord Westholt answered. Had + the fellow been telling her romantic stories? “The general + impression was that he went to America to amuse himself.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he did not do that,” said Betty, with simple finality. + “A sheep ranch is not amusing——” She stopped short + and stood still for a moment. They had been walking down the avenue, and + she stopped because her eyes had been caught by a figure half sitting, + half lying in the middle of the road, a prostrate bicycle near it. It was + the figure of a cheaply dressed young man, who, as she looked, seemed to + make an ineffectual effort to rise. + </p> + <p> + “Is that man ill?” she exclaimed. “I think he must be.” + They went towards him at once, and when they reached him he lifted a dazed + white face, down which a stream of blood was trickling from a cut on his + forehead. He was, in fact, very white indeed, and did not seem to know + what he was doing. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you are hurt,” Betty said, and as she spoke the + rest of the party joined them. The young man vacantly smiled, and making + an unconscious-looking pass across his face with his hand, smeared the + blood over his features painfully. Betty kneeled down, and drawing out her + handkerchief, lightly wiped the gruesome smears away. Lord Westholt saw + what had happened, having given a look at the bicycle. + </p> + <p> + “His chain broke as he was coming down the incline, and as he fell + he got a nasty knock on this stone,” touching with his foot a rather + large one, which had evidently fallen from some cartload of building + material. + </p> + <p> + The young man, still vacantly smiling, was fumbling at his breast pocket. + He began to talk incoherently in good, nasal New York, at the mere sound + of which Lady Anstruthers made a little yearning step forward. + </p> + <p> + “Superior any other,” he muttered. “Tabulator spacer—marginal + release key—call your 'tention—instantly—'justable—Delkoff—no + equal on market.” And having found what he had fumbled for, he + handed a card to Miss Vanderpoel and sank unconscious on her breast. + </p> + <p> + “Let me support him, Miss Vanderpoel,” said Westholt, starting + forward. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, thank you,” said Betty. “If he has fainted + I suppose he must be laid flat on the ground. Will you please to read the + card.” + </p> + <p> + It was the card Mount Dunstan had read the day before. + </p> + <p> + J. BURRIDGE & SON, DELKOFF TYPEWRITER CO. BROADWAY, NEW YORK. G. + SELDEN. + </p> + <p> + “He is probably G. Selden,” said Westholt. “Travelling + in the interests of his firm, poor chap. The clue is not of much immediate + use, however.” + </p> + <p> + They were fortunately not far from the house, and Westholt went back + quickly to summon servants and send for the village doctor. The Dunholms + were kindly sympathetic, and each of the party lent a handkerchief to + staunch the bleeding. Lord Dunholm helped Miss Vanderpoel to lay the young + man down carefully. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” he said; “I am really afraid his leg is + broken. It was twisted under him. What can be done with him?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel looked at her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Will you allow him to be carried to the house temporarily, Rosy?” + she asked. “There is apparently nothing else to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Lady Anstruthers. “How could one send + him away, poor fellow! Let him be carried to the house.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel smiled into Lord Dunholm's much approving, elderly eyes. + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden is a compatriot,” she said. “Perhaps he heard + I was here and came to sell me a typewriter.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Westholt returning with two footmen and a light mattress, G. Selden + was carried with cautious care to the house. The afternoon sun, breaking + through the branches of the ancestral oaks, kindly touched his + keen-featured, white young face. Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt each lent + a friendly hand, and Miss Vanderpoel, keeping near, once or twice wiped + away an insistent trickle of blood which showed itself from beneath the + handkerchiefs. Lady Dunholm followed with Lady Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards, during his convalescence, G. Selden frequently felt with + regret that by his unconsciousness of the dignity of his cortege at the + moment he had missed feeling himself to be for once in a position he would + have designated as “out of sight” in the novelty of its + importance. To have beheld him, borne by nobles and liveried menials, + accompanied by ladies of title, up the avenue of an English park on his + way to be cared for in baronial halls, would, he knew, have added a joy to + the final moments of his grandmother, which the consolations of religion + could scarcely have met equally in competition. His own point of view, + however, would not, it is true, have been that of the old woman in the + black net cap and purple ribbons, but of a less reverent nature. His + enjoyment, in fact, would have been based upon that transatlantic sense of + humour, whose soul is glee at the incompatible, which would have been full + fed by the incongruity of “Little Willie being yanked along by a + bunch of earls, and Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughters following the + funeral.” That he himself should have been unconscious of the + situation seemed to him like “throwing away money.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor arriving after he had been put to bed found slight concussion + of the brain and a broken leg. With Lady Anstruthers' kind permission, it + would certainly be best that he should remain for the present where he + was. So, in a bedroom whose windows looked out upon spreading lawns and + broad-branched trees, he was as comfortably established as was possible. + G. Selden, through the capricious intervention of Fate, if he had not + “got next” to Reuben S. Vanderpoel himself, had most + undisputably “got next” to his favourite daughter. + </p> + <p> + As the Dunholm carriage rolled down the avenue there reigned for a few + minutes a reflective silence. It was Lady Dunholm who broke it. “That,” + she said in her softly decided voice, “that is a nice girl.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Dunholm's agreeable, humorous smile flickered into evidence. + </p> + <p> + “That is it,” he said. “Thank you, Eleanor, for + supplying me with a quite delightful early Victorian word. I believe I + wanted it. She is a beauty and she is clever. She is a number of other + things—but she is also a nice girl. If you will allow me to say so, + I have fallen in love with her.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will allow me to say so,” put in Westholt, “so + have I—quite fatally.” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said his father, with speculation in his eye, “is + more serious.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <h3> + “WHAT IT MUST BE TO YOU—JUST YOU!” + </h3> + <p> + G. Selden, awakening to consciousness two days later, lay and stared at + the chintz covering of the top of his four-post bed through a few minutes + of vacant amazement. It was a four-post bed he was lying on, wasn't it? + And his leg was bandaged and felt unmovable. The last thing he remembered + was going down an incline in a tree-bordered avenue. There was nothing + more. He had been all right then. Was this a four-post bed or was it not? + Yes, it was. And was it part of the furnishings of a swell bedroom—the + kind of bedroom he had never been in before? Tip top, in fact? He stared + and tried to recall things—but could not, and in his bewilderment + exclaimed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “if this ain't the limit! You may + search ME!” + </p> + <p> + A respectable person in a white apron came to him from the other side of + the room. It was Buttle's wife, who had been hastily called in. + </p> + <p> + “Sh—sh,” she said soothingly. “Don't you worry. + Nobody ain't goin' to search you. Nobody ain't. There! Sh, sh, sh,” + rather as if he were a baby. Beginning to be conscious of a curious sense + of weakness, Selden lay and stared at her in a helplessness which might + have been considered pathetic. Perhaps he had got “bats in his + belfry,” and there was no use in talking. + </p> + <p> + At that moment, however, the door opened and a young lady entered. She was + “a looker,” G. Selden's weakness did not interfere with his + perceiving. “A looker, by gee!” She was dressed, as if for + going out, in softly tinted, exquisite things, and a large, strange + hydrangea blue flower under the brim of her hat rested on soft and full + black hair. The black hair gave him a clue. It was hair like that he had + seen as Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter rode by when he stood at the park + gates at Mount Dunstan. “Bats in his belfry,” of course. + </p> + <p> + “How is he?” she said to the nurse. + </p> + <p> + “He's been seeming comfortable all day, miss,” the woman + answered, “but he's light-headed yet. He opened his eyes quite + sensible looking a bit ago, but he spoke queer. He said something was the + limit, and that we might search him.” + </p> + <p> + Betty approached the bedside to look at him, and meeting the disturbed + inquiry in his uplifted eyes, laughed, because, seeing that he was not + delirious, she thought she understood. She had not lived in New York + without hearing its argot, and she realised that the exclamation which had + appeared delirium to Mrs. Buttle had probably indicated that the + unexplainableness of the situation in which G. Selden found himself struck + him as reaching the limit of probability, and that the most extended + search of his person would fail to reveal any clue to satisfactory + explanation. + </p> + <p> + She bent over him, with her laugh still shining in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you feel better. Can you tell me?” she said. + </p> + <p> + His voice was not strong, but his answer was that of a young man who knew + what he was saying. + </p> + <p> + “If I'm not off my head, ma'am, I'm quite comfortable, thank you,” + he replied. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear that,” said Betty. “Don't be + disturbed. Your mind is quite clear.” + </p> + <p> + “All I want,” said G. Selden impartially, “is just to + know where I'm at, and how I blew in here. It would help me to rest + better.” + </p> + <p> + “You met with an accident,” the “looker” + explained, still smiling with both lips and eyes. “Your bicycle + chain broke and you were thrown and hurt yourself. It happened in the + avenue in the park. We found you and brought you in. You are at Stornham + Court, which belongs to Sir Nigel Anstruthers. Lady Anstruthers is my + sister. I am Miss Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + “Hully gee!” ejaculated G. Selden inevitably. “Hully + GEE!” The splendour of the moment was such that his brain whirled. + As it was not yet in the physical condition to whirl with any comfort, he + found himself closing his eyes weakly. + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” Miss Vanderpoel said. “Keep them closed. + I must not talk to you until you are stronger. Lie still and try not to + think. The doctor says you are getting on very well. I will come and see + you again.” + </p> + <p> + As the soft sweep of her dress reached the door he managed to open his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Miss Vanderpoel,” he said. “Thank you, + ma'am.” And as his eyelids closed again he murmured in luxurious + peace: “Well, if that's her—she can have ME—and welcome!” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + She came to see him again each day—sometimes in a linen frock and + garden hat, sometimes in her soft tints and lace and flowers before or + after her drive in the afternoon, and two or three times in the evening, + with lovely shoulders and wonderfully trailing draperies—looking + like the women he had caught far-off glimpses of on the rare occasion of + his having indulged himself in the highest and most remotely placed seat + in the gallery at the opera, which inconvenience he had borne not through + any ardent desire to hear the music, but because he wanted to see the show + and get “a look-in” at the Four Hundred. He believed very + implicitly in his Four Hundred, and privately—though perhaps almost + unconsciously—cherished the distinction his share of them conferred + upon him, as fondly as the English young man of his rudimentary type + cherishes his dukes and duchesses. The English young man may revel in his + coroneted beauties in photograph shops, the young American dwells fondly + on flattering, or very unflattering, reproductions of his + multi-millionaires' wives and daughters in the voluminous illustrated + sheets of his Sunday paper, without which life would be a wretched and + savourless thing. + </p> + <p> + Selden had never seen Miss Vanderpoel in his Sunday paper, and here he was + lying in a room in the same house with her. And she coming in to see him + and talk to him as if he was one of the Four Hundred himself! The comfort + and luxury with which he found himself surrounded sank into insignificance + when compared with such unearthly luck as this. Lady Anstruthers came in + to see him also, and she several times brought with her a queer little + lame fellow, who was spoken of as “Master Ughtred.” “Master” + was supposed by G. Selden to be a sort of title conferred upon the small + sons of baronets and the like. The children he knew in New York and + elsewhere answered to the names of Bob, or Jimmy, or Bill. No parallel to + “Master” had been in vogue among them. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers was not like her sister. She was a little thing, and both + she and Master Ughtred seemed fond of talking of New York. She had not + been home for years, and the youngster had never seen it at all. He had + some queer ideas about America, and seemed never to have seen anything but + Stornham and the village. G. Selden liked him, and was vaguely sorry for a + little chap to whom a description of the festivities attendant upon the + Fourth of July and a Presidential election seemed like stories from the + Arabian Nights. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the Tammany Tiger, if you please,” he said + once. “I want to know what kind of an animal it is.” + </p> + <p> + From a point of view somewhat different from that of Mount Dunstan and Mr. + Penzance, Betty Vanderpoel found talk with him interesting. To her he did + not wear the aspect of a foreign product. She had not met and conversed + with young men like him, but she knew of them. Stringent precautions were + taken to protect her father from their ingenuous enterprises. They were + not permitted to enter his offices; they were even discouraged from + hovering about their neighbourhood when seen and suspected. The + atmosphere, it was understood, was to be, if possible, disinfected of + agents. This one, lying softly in the four-post bed, cheerfully grateful + for the kindness shown him, and plainly filled with delight in his + adventure, despite the physical discomforts attending it, gave her, as he + began to recover, new views of the life he lived in common with his kind. + It was like reading scenes from a realistic novel of New York life to + listen to his frank, slangy conversation. To her, as well as to Mr. + Penzance, sidelights were thrown upon existence in the “hall bedroom” + and upon previously unknown phases of business life in Broadway and + roaring “downtown” streets. + </p> + <p> + His determination, his sharp readiness, his control of temper under rebuff + and superfluous harshness, his odd, impersonal summing up of men and + things, and good-natured patience with the world in general, were, she + knew, business assets. She was even moved—no less—by the + remote connection of such a life with that of the first Reuben Vanderpoel + who had laid the huge, solid foundations of their modern fortune. The + first Reuben Vanderpoel must have seen and known the faces of men as G. + Selden saw and knew them. Fighting his way step by step, knocking + pertinaciously at every gateway which might give ingress to some passage + leading to even the smallest gain, meeting with rebuff and indifference + only to be overcome by steady and continued assault—if G. Selden was + a nuisance, the first Vanderpoel had without doubt worn that aspect upon + innumerable occasions. No one desires the presence of the man who while + having nothing to give must persist in keeping himself in evidence, even + if by strategy or force. From stories she was familiar with, she had + gathered that the first Reuben Vanderpoel had certainly lacked a certain + youth of soul she felt in this modern struggler for life. He had been the + cleverer man of the two; G. Selden she secretly liked the better. + </p> + <p> + The curiosity of Mrs. Buttle, who was the nurse, had been awakened by a + singular feature of her patient's feverish wanderings. + </p> + <p> + “He keeps muttering, miss, things I can't make out about Lord Mount + Dunstan, and Mr. Penzance, and some child he calls Little Willie. He talks + to them the same as if he knew them—same as if he was with them and + they were talking to him quite friendly.” + </p> + <p> + One morning Betty, coming to make her visit of inquiry found the patient + looking thoughtful, and when she commented upon his air of pondering, his + reply cast light upon the mystery. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Miss Vanderpoel,” he explained, “I was lying here + thinking of Lord Mount Dunstan and Mr. Penzance, and how well they treated + me—I haven't told you about that, have I? + </p> + <p> + “That explains what Mrs. Buttle said,” she answered. “When + you were delirious you talked frequently to Lord Mount Dunstan and Mr. + Penzance. We both wondered why.” + </p> + <p> + Then he told her the whole story. Beginning with his sitting on the grassy + bank outside the park, listening to the song of the robin, he ended with + the adieux at the entrance gates when the sound of her horse's trotting + hoofs had been heard by each of them. + </p> + <p> + “What I've been lying here thinking of,” he said, “is + how queer it was it happened just that way. If I hadn't stopped just that + minute, and if you hadn't gone by, and if Lord Mount Dunstan hadn't known + you and said who you were, Little Willie would have been in London by this + time, hustling to get a cheap bunk back to New York in.” + </p> + <p> + “Because?” inquired Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + G. Selden laughed and hesitated a moment. Then he made a clean breast of + it. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Miss Vanderpoel,” he said, “I hope it won't make + you mad if I own up. Ladies like you don't know anything about chaps like + me. On the square and straight out, when I seen you and heard your name I + couldn't help remembering whose daughter you was. Reuben S. Vanderpoel + spells a big thing. Why, when I was in New York we fellows used to get + together and talk about what it'd mean to the chap who could get next to + Reuben S. Vanderpoel. We used to count up all the business he does, and + all the clerks he's got under him pounding away on typewriters, and how + they'd be bound to get worn out and need new ones. And we'd make + calculations how many a man could unload, if he could get next. It was a + kind of typewriting junior assistant fairy story, and we knew it couldn't + happen really. But we used to chin about it just for the fun of the thing. + One of the boys made up a thing about one of us saving Reuben S.'s life—dragging + him from under a runaway auto and, when he says, 'What can I do to show my + gratitude, young man?' him handing out his catalogue and saying, 'I should + like to call your attention to the Delkoff, sir,' and getting him to + promise he'd never use any other, as long as he lived!” + </p> + <p> + Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter laughed as spontaneously as any girl might + have done. G. Selden laughed with her. At any rate, she hadn't got mad, so + far. + </p> + <p> + “That was what did it,” he went on. “When I rode away on + my bike I got thinking about it and could not get it out of my head. The + next day I just stopped on the road and got off my wheel, and I says to + myself: 'Look here, business is business, if you ARE travelling in Europe + and lunching at Buckingham Palace with the main squeeze. Get busy! What'll + the boys say if they hear you've missed a chance like this? YOU hit the + pike for Stornham Castle, or whatever it's called, and take your nerve + with you! She can't do more than have you fired out, and you've been fired + before and got your breath after it. So I turned round and made time. And + that was how I happened on your avenue. And perhaps it was because I was + feeling a bit rattled I lost my hold when the chain broke, and pitched + over on my head. There, I've got it off my chest. I was thinking I should + have to explain somehow.” + </p> + <p> + Something akin to her feeling of affection for the nice, long-legged + Westerner she had seen rambling in Bond Street touched Betty again. The + Delkoff was the centre of G. Selden's world as the flowers were of + Kedgers', as the “little 'ome” was of Mrs. Welden's. + </p> + <p> + “Were you going to try to sell ME a typewriter?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” G. Selden admitted, “I didn't know but what + there might be use for one, writing business letters on a big place like + this. Straight, I won't say I wasn't going to try pretty hard. It may look + like gall, but you see a fellow has to rush things or he'll never get + there. A chap like me HAS to get there, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent a few moments and looked as if she was thinking something + over. Her silence and this look on her face actually caused to dawn in the + breast of Selden a gleam of daring hope. He looked round at her with a + faint rising of colour. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Miss Vanderpoel—say——” he began, and + then broke off. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” said Betty, still thinking. + </p> + <p> + “C-COULD you use one—anywhere?” he said. “I don't + want to rush things too much, but—COULD you?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it easy to learn to use it?” + </p> + <p> + “Easy!” his head lifted from his pillow. “It's as easy + as falling off a log. A baby in a perambulator could learn to tick off + orders for its bottle. And—on the square—there isn't its equal + on the market, Miss Vanderpoel—there isn't.” He fumbled + beneath his pillow and actually brought forth his catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “I asked the nurse to put it there. I wanted to study it now and + then and think up arguments. See—adjustable to hold with perfect + ease an envelope, an index card, or a strip of paper no wider than a + postage stamp. Unsurpassed paper feed, practical ribbon mechanism—perfect + and permanent alignment.” + </p> + <p> + As Mount Dunstan had taken the book, Betty Vanderpoel took it. Never had + G. Selden beheld such smiling in eyes about to bend upon his catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “You will raise your temperature,” she said, “if you + excite yourself. You mustn't do that. I believe there are two or three + people on the estate who might be taught to use a typewriter. I will buy + three. Yes—we will say three.” + </p> + <p> + She would buy three. He soared to heights. He did not know how to thank + her, though he did his best. Dizzying visions of what he would have to + tell “the boys” when he returned to New York flashed across + his mind. The daughter of Reuben S. Vanderpoel had bought three Delkoffs, + and he was the junior assistant who had sold them to her. + </p> + <p> + “You don't know what it means to me, Miss Vanderpoel,” he + said, “but if you were a junior salesman you'd know. It's not only + the sale—though that's a rake-off of fifteen dollars to me—but + it's because it's YOU that's bought them. Gee!” gazing at her with a + frank awe whose obvious sincerity held a queer touch of pathos. “What + it must be to be YOU—just YOU!” + </p> + <p> + She did not laugh. She felt as if a hand had lightly touched her on her + naked heart. She had thought of it so often—had been bewildered + restlessly by it as a mere child—this difference in human lot—this + chance. Was it chance which had placed her entity in the centre of Bettina + Vanderpoel's world instead of in that of some little cash girl with hair + raked back from a sallow face, who stared at her as she passed in a shop—or + in that of the young Frenchwoman whose life was spent in serving her, in + caring for delicate dresses and keeping guard over ornaments whose price + would have given to her own humbleness ease for the rest of existence? + What did it mean? And what Law was laid upon her? What Law which could + only work through her and such as she who had been born with almost + unearthly power laid in their hands—the reins of monstrous wealth, + which guided or drove the world? Sometimes fear touched her, as with this + light touch an her heart, because she did not KNOW the Law and could only + pray that her guessing at it might be right. And, even as she thought + these things, G. Selden went on. + </p> + <p> + “You never can know,” he said, “because you've always + been in it. And the rest of the world can't know, because they've never + been anywhere near it.” He stopped and evidently fell to thinking. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the rest of the world,” said Betty quietly. + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I was just thinking to myself you didn't know a thing about + it. And it's queer. It's the rest of us that mounts up when you come to + numbers. I guess it'd run into millions. I'm not thinking of beggars and + starving people, I've been rushing the Delkoff too steady to get onto any + swell charity organisation, so I don't know about them. I'm just thinking + of the millions of fellows, and women, too, for the matter of that, that + waken up every morning and know they've got to hustle for their ten per or + their fifteen per—if they can stir it up as thick as that. If it's + as much as fifty per, of course, seems like to me, they're on Easy Street. + But sometimes those that's got to fifty per—or even more—have + got more things to do with it—kids, you know, and more rent and + clothes. They've got to get at it just as hard as we have. Why, Miss + Vanderpoel, how many people do you suppose there are in a million that + don't have to worry over their next month's grocery bills, and the rent of + their flat? I bet there's not ten—and I don't know the ten.” + </p> + <p> + He did not state his case uncheerfully. “The rest of the world” + represented to him the normal condition of things. + </p> + <p> + “Most married men's a bit afraid to look an honest grocery bill in + the face. And they WILL come in—as regular as spring hats. And I + tell YOU, when a man's got to live on seventy-five a month, a thing + that'll take all the strength and energy out of a twenty-dollar bill + sorter gets him down on the mat.” + </p> + <p> + Like old Mrs. Welden's, his roughly sketched picture was a graphic one. + </p> + <p> + “'Tain't the working that bothers most of us. We were born to that, + and most of us would feel like deadbeats if we were doing nothing. It's + the earning less than you can live on, and getting a sort of tired feeling + over it. It's the having to make a dollar-bill look like two, and watching + every other fellow try to do the same thing, and not often make the trip. + There's millions of us—just millions—every one of us with his + Delkoff to sell——” his figure of speech pleased him and + he chuckled at his own cleverness—“and thinking of it, and + talking about it, and—under his vest—half afraid that he can't + make it. And what you say in the morning when you open your eyes and + stretch yourself is, 'Hully gee! I've GOT to sell a Delkoff to-day, and + suppose I shouldn't, and couldn't hold down my job!' I began it over my + feeding bottle. So did all the people I know. That's what gave me a sort + of a jolt just now when I looked at you and thought about you being YOU—and + what it meant.” + </p> + <p> + When their conversation ended she had a much more intimate knowledge of + New York than she had ever had before, and she felt it a rich possession. + She had heard of the “hall bedroom” previously, and she had + seen from the outside the “quick lunch” counter, but G. Selden + unconsciously escorted her inside and threw upon faces and lives the glare + of a flashlight. + </p> + <p> + “There was a thing I've been thinking I'd ask you, Miss Vanderpoel,” + he said just before she left him. “I'd like you to tell me, if you + please. It's like this. You see those two fellows treated me as fine as + silk. I mean Lord Mount Dunstan and Mr. Penzance. I never expected it. I + never saw a lord before, much less spoke to one, but I can tell you that + one's just about all right—Mount Dunstan. And the other one—the + old vicar—I've never taken to anyone since I was born like I took to + him. The way he puts on his eye-glasses and looks at you, sorter kind and + curious about you at the same time! And his voice and his way of saying + his words—well, they just GOT me—sure. And they both of 'em + did say they'd like to see me again. Now do you think, Miss Vanderpoel, it + would look too fresh—if I was to write a polite note and ask if + either of them could make it convenient to come and take a look at me, if + it wouldn't be too much trouble. I don't WANT to be too fresh—and + perhaps they wouldn't come anyhow—and if it is, please won't you + tell me, Miss Vanderpoel?” + </p> + <p> + Betty thought of Mount Dunstan as he had stood and talked to her in the + deepening afternoon sun. She did not know much of him, but she thought—having + heard G. Selden's story of the lunch—that he would come. She had + never seen Mr. Penzance, but she knew she should like to see him. + </p> + <p> + “I think you might write the note,” she said. “I believe + they would come to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” with eager pleasure. “Then I'll do it. I'd + give a good deal to see them again. I tell you, they are just It—both + of them.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <h3> + LIFE + </h3> + <p> + Mount Dunstan, walking through the park next morning on his way to the + vicarage, just after post time, met Mr. Penzance himself coming to make an + equally early call at the Mount. Each of them had a letter in his hand, + and each met the other's glance with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden,” Mount Dunstan said. “And yours?” + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden also,” answered the vicar. “Poor young + fellow, what ill-luck. And yet—is it ill-luck? He says not.” + </p> + <p> + “He tells me it is not,” said Mount Dunstan. “And I + agree with him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance read his letter aloud. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR: + </p> + <p> + “This is to notify you that owing to my bike going back on me when + going down hill, I met with an accident in Stornham Park. Was cut about + the head and leg broken. Little Willie being far from home and mother, you + can see what sort of fix he'd been in if it hadn't been for the kindness + of Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughters—Miss Bettina and her sister Lady + Anstruthers. The way they've had me taken care of has been great. I've + been under a nurse and doctor same as if I was Albert Edward with + appendycytus (I apologise if that's not spelt right). Dear Sir, this is to + say that I asked Miss Vanderpoel if I should be butting in too much if I + dropped a line to ask if you could spare the time to call and see me. It + would be considered a favour and appreciated by + </p> + <p> + “G. SELDEN, + </p> + <p> + “Delkoff Typewriter Co. Broadway. + </p> + <p> + “P. S. Have already sold three Delkoffs to Miss Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word,” Mr. Penzance commented, and his amiable + fervour quite glowed, “I like that queer young fellow—I like + him. He does not wish to 'butt in too much.' Now, there is rudimentary + delicacy in that. And what a humorous, forceful figure of speech! Some + butting animal—a goat, I seem to see, preferably—forcing its + way into a group or closed circle of persons.” + </p> + <p> + His gleeful analysis of the phrase had such evident charm for him that + Mount Dunstan broke into a shout of laughter, even as G. Selden had done + at the adroit mention of Weber & Fields. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we ride over together to see him this morning? An hour with + G. Selden, surrounded by the atmosphere of Reuben S. Vanderpoel, would be + a cheering thing,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It would,” Mr. Penzance answered. “Let us go by all + means. We should not, I suppose,” with keen delight, “be + 'butting in' upon Lady Anstruthers too early?” He was quite + enraptured with his own aptness. “Like G. Selden, I should not like + to 'butt in,'” he added. + </p> + <p> + The scent and warmth and glow of a glorious morning filled the hour. + Combining themselves with a certain normal human gaiety which surrounded + the mere thought of G. Selden, they were good things for Mount Dunstan. + Life was strong and young in him, and he had laughed a big young laugh, + which had, perhaps tended to the waking in him of the feeling he was + suddenly conscious of—that a six-mile ride over a white, + tree-dappled, sunlit road would be pleasant enough, and, after all, if at + the end of the gallop one came again upon that other in whom life was + strong and young, and bloomed on rose-cheek and was the far fire in the + blue deeps of lovely eyes, and the slim straightness of the fair body, why + would it not be, in a way, all to the good? He had thought of her on more + than one day, and felt that he wanted to see her again. + </p> + <p> + “Let us go,” he answered Penzance. “One can call on an + invalid at any time. Lady Anstruthers will forgive us.” + </p> + <p> + In less than an hour's time they were on their way. They laughed and + talked as they rode, their horses' hoofs striking out a cheerful ringing + accompaniment to their voices. There is nothing more exhilarating than the + hollow, regular ring and click-clack of good hoofs going well over a fine + old Roman road in the morning sunlight. They talked of the junior + assistant salesman and of Miss Vanderpoel. Penzance was much pleased by + the prospect of seeing “this delightful and unusual girl.” He + had heard stories of her, as had Lord Westholt. He knew of old Doby's + pipe, and of Mrs. Welden's respite from the Union, and though such + incidents would seem mere trifles to the dweller in great towns, he had + himself lived and done his work long enough in villages to know the + village mind and the scale of proportions by which its gladness and + sadness were measured. He knew more of all this than Mount Dunstan could, + since Mount Dunstan's existence had isolated itself, from rather gloomy + choice. But as he rode, Mount Dunstan knew that he liked to hear these + things. There was the suggestion of new life and new thought in them, and + such suggestion was good for any man—or woman, either—who had + fallen into living in a dull, narrow groove. + </p> + <p> + “It is the new life in her which strikes me,” he said. “She + has brought wealth with her, and wealth is power to do the good or evil + that grows in a man's soul; but she has brought something more. She might + have come here and brought all the sumptuousness of a fashionable young + beauty, who drove through the village and drew people to their windows, + and made clodhoppers scratch their heads and pull their forelocks, and + children bob curtsies and stare. She might have come and gone and left a + mind-dazzling memory and nothing else. A few sovereigns tossed here and + there would have earned her a reputation—but, by gee! to quote + Selden—she has begun LIVING with them, as if her ancestors had done + it for six hundred years. And what <i>I</i> see is that if she had come + without a penny in her pocket she would have done the same thing.” + He paused a pondering moment, and then drew a sharp breath which was an + exclamation in itself. “She's Life!” he said. “She's + Life itself! Good God! what a thing it is for a man or woman to be Life—instead + of a mass of tissue and muscle and nerve, dragged about by the mere + mechanism of living!” + </p> + <p> + Penzance had listened seriously. + </p> + <p> + “What you say is very suggestive,” he commented. “It + strikes me as true, too. You have seen something of her also, at least + more than I have.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not think these things when I saw her—though I suppose + I felt them unconsciously. I have reached this way of summing her up by + processes of exclusion and inclusion. One hears of her, as you know + yourself, and one thinks her over.” + </p> + <p> + “You have thought her over?” + </p> + <p> + “A lot,” rather grumpily. “A beautiful female creature + inevitably gives an unbeautiful male creature something to think of—if + he is not otherwise actively employed. I am not. She has become a sort of + dawning relief to my hopeless humours. Being a low and unworthy beast, I + am sometimes resentful enough of the unfairness of things. She has too + much.” + </p> + <p> + When they rode through Stornham village they saw signs of work already + done and work still in hand. There were no broken windows or palings or + hanging wicket gates; cottage gardens had been put in order, and there + were evidences of such cheering touches as new bits of window curtain and + strong-looking young plants blooming between them. So many small, but + necessary, things had been done that the whole village wore the aspect of + a place which had taken heart, and was facing existence in a hopeful + spirit. A year ago Mount Dunstan and his vicar riding through it had been + struck by its neglected and dispirited look. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the hall of the Court Miss Vanderpoel was descending the + staircase. She was laughing a little to herself, and she looked pleased + when she saw them. + </p> + <p> + “It is good of you to come,” she said, as they crossed the + hall to the drawing-room. “But I told him I really thought you + would. I have just been talking to him, and he was a little uncertain as + to whether he had assumed too much.” + </p> + <p> + “As to whether he had 'butted in,'” said Mr. Penzance. “I + think he must have said that.” + </p> + <p> + “He did. He also was afraid that he might have been 'too fresh.'” + answered Betty. + </p> + <p> + “On our part,” said Mr. Penzance, with gentle glee, “we + hesitated a moment in fear lest we also might appear to be 'butting in.'” + </p> + <p> + Then they all laughed together. They were laughing when Lady Anstruthers + entered, and she herself joined them. But to Mount Dunstan, who felt her + to be somehow a touching little person, there was manifest a tenderness in + her feeling for G. Selden. For that matter, however, there was something + already beginning to be rather affectionate in the attitude of each of + them. They went upstairs to find him lying in state upon a big sofa placed + near a window, and his joy at the sight of them was a genuine, human + thing. In fact, he had pondered a good deal in secret on the possibility + of these swell people thinking he had “more than his share of gall” + to expect them to remember him after he passed on his junior assistant + salesman's way. Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughters were of the highest of + his Four Hundred, but they were Americans, and Americans were not as a + rule so “stuck on themselves” as the English. And here these + two swells came as friendly as you please. And that nice old chap that was + a vicar, smiling and giving him “the glad hand”! + </p> + <p> + Betty and Mount Dunstan left Mr. Penzance talking to the convalescent + after a short time. Mount Dunstan had asked to be shown the gardens. He + wanted to see the wonderful things he had heard had been already done to + them. + </p> + <p> + They went down the stairs together and passed through the drawing-room + into the pleasure grounds. The once neglected lawns had already been mown + and rolled, clipped and trimmed, until they spread before the eye huge + measures of green velvet; even the beds girdling and adorning them were + brilliant with flowers. + </p> + <p> + “Kedgers!” said Betty, waving her hand. “In my ignorance + I thought we must wait for blossoms until next year; but it appears that + wonders can be brought all ready to bloom for one from nursery gardens, + and can be made to grow with care—and daring—and passionate + affection. I have seen Kedgers turn pale with anguish as he hung over a + bed of transplanted things which seemed to droop too long. They droop just + at first, you know, and then they slowly lift their heads, slowly, as if + to listen to a Voice calling—calling. Once I sat for quite a long + time before a rose, watching it. When I saw it BEGIN to listen, I felt a + little trembling pass over my body. I seemed to be so strangely near to + such a strange thing. It was Life—Life coming back—in answer + to what we cannot hear.” + </p> + <p> + She had begun lightly, and then her voice had changed. It was very quiet + at the end of her speaking. Mount Dunstan simply repeated her last words. + </p> + <p> + “To what we cannot hear.” + </p> + <p> + “One feels it so much in a garden,” she said. “I have + never lived in a garden of my own. This is not mine, but I have been + living in it—with Kedgers. One is so close to Life in it—the + stirring in the brown earth, the piercing through of green spears, that + breaking of buds and pouring forth of scent! Why shouldn't one tremble, if + one thinks? I have stood in a potting shed and watched Kedgers fill a + shallow box with damp rich mould and scatter over it a thin layer of + infinitesimal seeds; then he moistens them and carries them reverently to + his altars in a greenhouse. The ledges in Kedgers' green-houses are + altars. I think he offers prayers before them. Why not? I should. And when + one comes to see them, the moist seeds are swelled to fulness, and when + one comes again they are bursting. And the next time, tiny green things + are curling outward. And, at last, there is a fairy forest of tiniest pale + green stems and leaves. And one is standing close to the Secret of the + World! And why should not one prostrate one's self, breathing softly—and + touching one's awed forehead to the earth?” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan turned and looked at her—a pause in his step—they + were walking down a turfed path, and over their heads meeting branches of + new leaves hung. Something in his movement made her turn and pause also. + They both paused—and quite unknowingly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said, in a low and rather unusual voice, + “that as we were on our way here, I said of you to Penzance, that + you were Life—YOU!” + </p> + <p> + For a few seconds, as they stood so, his look held her—their eyes + involuntarily and strangely held each other. Something softly glowing in + the sunlight falling on them both, something raining down in the song of a + rising skylark trilling in the blue a field away, something in the warmed + incense of blossoms near them, was calling—calling in the Voice, + though they did not know they heard. Strangely, a splendid blush rose in a + fair flood under her skin. She was conscious of it, and felt a second's + amazed impatience that she should colour like a schoolgirl suspecting a + compliment. He did not look at her as a man looks who has made a pretty + speech. His eyes met hers straight and thoughtfully, and he repeated his + last words as he had before repeated hers. + </p> + <p> + “That YOU were Life—you!” + </p> + <p> + The bluebells under water were for the moment incredibly lovely. Her + feeling about the blush melted away as the blush itself had done. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you said that!” she answered. “It was a + beautiful thing to say. I have often thought that I should like it to be + true.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Then the skylark, showering golden rain, swept down to earth and its nest + in the meadow, and they walked on. + </p> + <p> + She learned from him, as they walked together, and he also learned from + her, in a manner which built for them as they went from point to point, a + certain degree of delicate intimacy, gradually, during their ramble, + tending to make discussion and question possible. Her intelligent and + broad interest in the work on the estate, her frank desire to acquire such + practical information as she lacked, aroused in himself an interest he had + previously seen no reason that he should feel. He realised that his + outlook upon the unusual situation was being illuminated by an + intelligence at once brilliant and fine, while it was also full of nice + shading. The situation, of course, WAS unusual. A beautiful young + sister-in-law appearing upon the dark horizon of a shamefully ill-used + estate, and restoring, with touches of a wand of gold, what a fellow who + was a blackguard should have set in order years ago. That Lady + Anstruthers' money should have rescued her boy's inheritance instead of + being spent upon lavish viciousness went without saying. What Mount + Dunstan was most struck by was the perfect clearness, and its combination + with a certain judicial good breeding, in Miss Vanderpoel's view of the + matter. She made no confidences, beautifully candid as her manner was, but + he saw that she clearly understood the thing she was doing, and that if + her sister had had no son she would not have done this, but something + totally different. He had an idea that Lady Anstruthers would have been + swiftly and lightly swept back to New York, and Sir Nigel left to his own + devices, in which case Stornham Court and its village would gradually have + crumbled to decay. It was for Sir Ughtred Anstruthers the place was being + restored. She was quite clear on the matter of entail. He wondered at + first—not unnaturally—how a girl had learned certain things + she had an obviously clear knowledge of. As they continued to converse he + learned. Reuben S. Vanderpoel was without doubt a man remarkable not only + in the matter of being the owner of vast wealth. The rising flood of his + millions had borne him upon its strange surface a thinking, not an + unthinking being—in fact, a strong and fine intelligence. His + thousands of miles of yearly journeying in his sumptuous private car had + been the means of his accumulating not merely added gains, but ideas, + points of view, emotions, a human outlook worth counting as an asset. His + daughter, when she had travelled with him, had seen and talked with him of + all he himself had seen. When she had not been his companion she had heard + from him afterwards all best worth hearing. She had become—without + any special process—familiar with the technicalities of huge + business schemes, with law and commerce and political situations. Even her + childish interest in the world of enterprise and labour had been + passionate. So she had acquired—inevitably, while almost + unconsciously—a remarkable education. + </p> + <p> + “If he had not been HIMSELF he might easily have grown tired of a + little girl constantly wanting to hear things—constantly asking + questions,” she said. “But he did not get tired. We invented a + special knock on the door of his private room. It said, 'May I come in, + father?' If he was busy he answered with one knock on his desk, and I went + away. If he had time to talk he called out, 'Come, Betty,' and I went to + him. I used to sit upon the floor and lean against his knee. He had a + beautiful way of stroking my hair or my hand as he talked. He trusted me. + He told me of great things even before he had talked of them to men. He + knew I would never speak of what was said between us in his room. That was + part of his trust. He said once that it was a part of the evolution of + race, that men had begun to expect of women what in past ages they really + only expected of each other.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan hesitated before speaking. + </p> + <p> + “You mean—absolute faith—apart from affection?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. The power to be quite silent, even when one is tempted to + speak—if to speak might betray what it is wiser to keep to one's + self because it is another man's affair. The kind of thing which is good + faith among business men. It applies to small things as much as to large, + and to other things than business.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan, recalling his own childhood and his own father, felt again + the pressure of the remote mental suggestion that she had had too much, a + childhood and girlhood like this, the affection and companionship of a man + of large and ordered intelligence, of clear and judicial outlook upon an + immense area of life and experience. There was no cause for wonder that + her young womanhood was all it presented to himself, as well as to others. + Recognising the shadow of resentment in his thought, he swept it away, an + inward sense making it clear to him that if their positions had been + reversed, she would have been more generous than himself. + </p> + <p> + He pulled himself together with an unconscious movement of his shoulders. + Here was the day of early June, the gold of the sun in its morning, the + green shadows, the turf they walked on together, the skylark rising again + from the meadow and showering down its song. Why think of anything else. + What a line that was which swept from her chin down her long slim throat + to its hollow! The colour between the velvet of her close-set lashes—the + remembrance of her curious splendid blush—made the man's lost and + unlived youth come back to him. What did it matter whether she was + American or English—what did it matter whether she was insolently + rich or beggarly poor? He would let himself go and forget all but the + pleasure of the sight and hearing of her. + </p> + <p> + So as they went they found themselves laughing together and talking + without restraint. They went through the flower and kitchen gardens; they + saw the once fallen wall rebuilt now with the old brick; they visited the + greenhouses and came upon Kedgers entranced with business, but enraptured + at being called upon to show his treasures. His eyes, turning magnetised + upon Betty, revealed the story of his soul. Mount Dunstan remarked that + when he spoke to her of his flowers it was as if there existed between + them the sympathy which might be engendered between two who had sat up + together night after night with delicate children. + </p> + <p> + “He's stronger to-day, miss,” he said, as they paused before a + new wonderful bloom. “What he's getting now is good for him. I had + to change his food, miss, but this seems all right. His colour's better.” + </p> + <p> + Betty herself bent over the flower as she might have bent over a child. + Her eyes softened, she touched a leaf with a slim finger, as delicately as + if it had been a new-born baby's cheek. As Mount Dunstan watched her he + drew a step nearer to her side. For the first time in his life he felt the + glow of a normal and simple pleasure untouched by any bitterness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <h3> + SETTING THEM THINKING + </h3> + <p> + Old Doby, sitting at his open window, with his pipe and illustrated papers + on the table by his side, began to find life a series of thrills. The + advantage of a window giving upon the village street unspeakably + increased. For many years he had preferred the chimney corner greatly, and + had rejoiced at the drawing in of winter days when a fire must be well + kept up, and a man might bend over it, and rub his hands slowly gazing + into the red coals or little pointed flames which seemed the only things + alive and worthy the watching. The flames were blue at the base and yellow + at the top, and jumped looking merry, and caught at bits of black coal, + and set them crackling and throwing off splinters till they were ablaze + and as much alive as the rest. A man could get comfort and entertainment + therefrom. There was naught else so good to live with. Nothing happened in + the street, and every dull face that passed was an old story, and told an + old tale of stupefying hard labour and hard days. + </p> + <p> + But now the window was a better place to sit near. Carts went by with men + whistling as they walked by the horses heads. Loads of things wanted for + work at the Court. New faces passed faces of workmen—sometimes + grinning, “impident youngsters,” who larked with the young + women, and called out to them as they passed their cottages, if a + good-looking one was loitering about her garden gate. Old Doby chuckled at + their love-making chaff, remembering dimly that seventy years ago he had + been just as proper a young chap, and had made love in the same way. Lord, + Lord, yes! He had been a bold young chap as ever winked an eye. Then, too, + there were the vans, heavy-loaded and closed, and coming along slowly. + Every few days, at first, there had come a van from “Lunnon.” + Going to the Court, of course. And to sit there, and hear the women talk + about what might be in them, and to try to guess one's self, that was a + rare pastime. Fine things going to the Court these days—furniture + and grandeur filling up the shabby or empty old rooms, and making them + look like other big houses—same as Westerbridge even, so the women + said. The women were always talking and getting bits of news somehow, and + were beginning to be worth listening to, because they had something more + interesting to talk about than children's worn-out shoes, and whooping + cough. + </p> + <p> + Doby heard everything first from them. “Dang the women, they always + knowed things fust.” It was them as knowed about the smart carriages + as began to roll through the one village street. They were gentry's + carriages, with fine, stamping horses, and jingling silver harness, and + big coachmen, and tall footmen, and such like had long ago dropped off + showing themselves at Stornham. + </p> + <p> + “But now the gentry has heard about Miss Vanderpoel, and what's + being done at the Court, and they know what it means,” said young + Mrs. Doby. “And they want to see her, and find out what she's like. + It's her brings them.” + </p> + <p> + Old Doby chuckled and rubbed his hands. He knew what she was like. That + straight, slim back of hers, and the thick twist of black hair, and the + way she had of laughing at you, as cheery as if a bell was ringing. Aye, + he knew all about that. + </p> + <p> + “When they see her once, they'll come agen, for sure,” he + quavered shrilly, and day by day he watched for the grand carriages with + vivid eagerness. If a day or two passed without his seeing one, he grew + fretful, and was injured, feeling that his beauty was being neglected! + “None to-day, nor yet yest'day,” he would cackle. “What + be they folk a-doin'?” + </p> + <p> + Old Mrs. Welden, having heard of the pipe, and come to see it, had struck + up an acquaintance with him, and dropped in almost every day to talk and + sit at his window. She was a young thing, by comparison, and could bring + him lively news, and, indeed, so stir him up with her gossip that he was + in danger of becoming a young thing himself. Her groceries and his tobacco + were subjects whose interest was undying. + </p> + <p> + A great curiosity had been awakened in the county, and visitors came from + distances greater than such as ordinarily include usual calls. Naturally, + one was curious about the daughter of the Vanderpoel who was a sort of + national institution in his own country. His name had not been so much + heard of in England when Lady Anstruthers had arrived but there had, at + first, been felt an interest in her. But she had been a failure—a + childish-looking girl—whose thin, fair, prettiness had no + distinction, and who was obviously overwhelmed by her surroundings. She + had evidently had no influence over Sir Nigel, and had not been able to + prevent his making ducks and drakes of her money, which of course ought to + have been spent on the estate. Besides which a married woman represented + fewer potentialities than a handsome unmarried girl entitled to + expectations from huge American wealth. + </p> + <p> + So the carriages came and came again, and, stately or unstately far-off + neighbours sat at tea upon the lawn under the trees, and it was observed + that the methods and appointments of the Court had entirely changed. + Nothing looked new and American. The silently moving men-servants could + not have been improved upon, there was plainly an excellent chef + somewhere, and the massive silver was old and wonderful. Upon everybody's + word, the change was such as it was worth a long drive merely to see! + </p> + <p> + The most wonderful thing, however, was Lady Anstruthers herself. She had + begun to grow delicately plump, her once drawn and haggard face had + rounded out, her skin had smoothed, and was actually becoming pink and + fair, a nimbus of pale fine hair puffed airily over her forehead, and she + wore the most charming little clothes, all of which made her look fifteen + years younger than she had seemed when, on the grounds of ill-health, she + had retired into seclusion. The renewed relations with her family, the + atmosphere by which she was surrounded, had evidently given her a fresh + lease of life, and awakened in her a new courage. + </p> + <p> + When the summer epidemic of garden parties broke forth, old Doby gleefully + beheld, day after day, the Court carriage drive by bearing her ladyship + and her sister attired in fairest shades and tints “same as if they + was flowers.” Their delicate vaporousness, and rare colours, were + sweet delights to the old man, and he and Mrs. Welden spent happy evenings + discussing them as personal possessions. To these two Betty WAS a personal + possession, bestowing upon them a marked distinction. They were hers and + she was theirs. No one else so owned her. Heaven had given her to them + that their last years might be lighted with splendour. + </p> + <p> + On her way to one of the garden parties she stopped the carriage before + old Doby's cottage, and went in to him to speak a few words. She was of + pale convolvulus blue that afternoon, and Doby, standing up touching his + forelock and Mrs. Welden curtsying, gazed at her with prayer in their + eyes. She had a few flowers in her hand, and a book of coloured + photographs of Venice. + </p> + <p> + “These are pictures of the city I told you about—the city + built in the sea—where the streets are water. You and Mrs. Welden + can look at them together,” she said, as she laid flowers and book + down. “I am going to Dunholm Castle to a garden party this + afternoon. Some day I will come and tell you about it.” + </p> + <p> + The two were at the window staring spellbound, as she swept back to the + carriage between the sweet-williams and Canterbury bells bordering the + narrow garden path. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know I really went in to let them see my dress,” she + said, when she rejoined Lady Anstruthers. “Old Doby's granddaughter + told me that he and Mrs. Welden have little quarrels about the colours I + wear. It seems that they find my wardrobe an absorbing interest. When I + put the book on the table, I felt Doby touch my sleeve with his trembling + old hand. He thought I did not know.” + </p> + <p> + “What will they do with Venice?” asked Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “They will believe the water is as blue as the photographs make it—and + the palaces as pink. It will seem like a chapter out of Revelations, which + they can believe is true and not merely 'Scriptur,'—because <i>I</i> + have been there. I wish I had been to the City of the Gates of Pearl, and + could tell them about that.” + </p> + <p> + On the lawns at the garden parties she was much gazed at and commented + upon. Her height and her long slender neck held her head above those of + other girls, the dense black of her hair made a rich note of shadow amid + the prevailing English blondness. Her mere colouring set her apart. Rosy + used to watch her with tender wonder, recalling her memory of + nine-year-old Betty, with the long slim legs and the demanding and + accusing child-eyes. She had always been this creature even in those + far-off days. At the garden party at Dunholm Castle it became evident that + she was, after a manner, unusually the central figure of the occasion. It + was not at all surprising, people said to each other. Nothing could have + been more desirable for Lord Westholt. He combined rank with fortune, and + the Vanderpoel wealth almost constituted rank in itself. Both Lord and + Lady Dunholm seemed pleased with the girl. Lord Dunholm showed her great + attention. When she took part in the dancing on the lawn, he looked on + delightedly. He walked about the gardens with her, and it was plain to see + that their conversation was not the ordinary polite effort to accord, + usually marking the talk between a mature man and a merely pretty girl. + Lord Dunholm sometimes laughed with unfeigned delight, and sometimes the + two seemed to talk of grave things. + </p> + <p> + “Such occasions as these are a sort of yearly taking of the social + census of the county,” Lord Dunholm explained. “One invites + ALL one's neighbours and is invited again. It is a friendly duty one owes.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not see Lord Mount Dunstan,” Betty answered. “Is + he here?” + </p> + <p> + She had never denied to herself her interest in Mount Dunstan, and she had + looked for him. Lord Dunholm hesitated a second, as his son had done at + Miss Vanderpoel's mention of the tabooed name. But, being an older man, he + felt more at liberty to speak, and gave her a rather long kind look. + </p> + <p> + “My dear young lady,” he said, “did you expect to see + him here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I think I did,” Betty replied, with slow softness. + “I believe I rather hoped I should.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! You are interested in him?” + </p> + <p> + “I know him very little. But I am interested. I will tell you why.” + </p> + <p> + She paused by a seat beneath a tree, and they sat down together. She gave, + with a few swift vivid touches, a sketch of the red-haired second-class + passenger on the Meridiana, of whom she had only thought that he was an + unhappy, rough-looking young man, until the brief moment in which they had + stood face to face, each comprehending that the other was to be relied on + if the worst should come to the worst. She had understood his prompt + disappearance from the scene, and had liked it. When she related the + incident of her meeting with him when she thought him a mere keeper on his + own lands, Lord Dunholm listened with a changed and thoughtful expression. + The effect produced upon her imagination by what she had seen, her silent + wandering through the sad beauty of the wronged place, led by the man who + tried stiffly to bear himself as a servant, his unintended + self-revelations, her clear, well-argued point of view charmed him. She + had seen the thing set apart from its county scandal, and so had read + possibilities others had been blind to. He was immensely touched by + certain things she said about the First Man. + </p> + <p> + “He is one of them,” she said. “They find their way in + the end—they find their way. But just now he thinks there is none. + He is standing in the dark—where the roads meet.” + </p> + <p> + “You think he will find his way?” Lord Dunholm said. “Why + do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I KNOW he will,” she answered. “But I cannot + tell you WHY I know.” + </p> + <p> + “What you have said has been interesting to me, because of the light + your own thought threw upon what you saw. It has not been Mount Dunstan I + have been caring for, but for the light you saw him in. You met him + without prejudice, and you carried the light in your hand. You always + carry a light, my impression is,” very quietly. “Some women + do.” + </p> + <p> + “The prejudice you speak of must be a bitter thing for a proud man + to bear. Is it a just prejudice? What has he done?” + </p> + <p> + Lord Dunholm was gravely silent for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “It is an extraordinary thing to reflect,”—his words + came slowly—“that it may NOT be a just prejudice. <i>I</i> do + not know that he has done anything—but seem rather sulky, and be the + son of his father, and the brother of his brother.” + </p> + <p> + “And go to America,” said Betty. “He could have avoided + doing that—but he cannot be called to account for his relations. If + that is all—the prejudice is NOT just.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not,” said Lord Dunholm, “and one feels + rather awkward at having shared it. You have set me thinking again, Miss + Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <h3> + THE THREAD OF G. SELDEN + </h3> + <p> + The Shuttle having in its weaving caught up the thread of G. Selden's + rudimentary existence and drawn it, with the young man himself, across the + sea, used curiously the thread in question, in the forming of the design + of its huge web. As wool and coarse linen are sometimes interwoven with + rich silk for decorative or utilitarian purposes, so perhaps was this + previously unvalued material employed. + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, an interesting truth that the young man, during his + convalescence, without his own knowledge, acted as a species of magnet + which drew together persons who might not easily otherwise have met. Mr. + Penzance and Mount Dunstan rode over to see him every few days, and their + visits naturally established relations with Stornham Court much more + intimate than could have formed themselves in the same length of time + under any of the ordinary circumstances of country life. Conventionalities + lost their prominence in friendly intercourse with Selden. It was not, + however, that he himself desired to dispense with convention. His intense + wish to “do the right thing,” and avoid giving offence was the + most ingenuous and touching feature of his broad cosmopolitan good nature. + </p> + <p> + “If I ever make a break, sir,” he had once said, with almost + passionate fervour, in talking to Mr. Penzance, “please tell me, and + set me on the right track. No fellow likes to look like a hoosier, but I + don't mind that half as much as—as seeming not to APPRECIATE.” + </p> + <p> + He used the word “appreciate” frequently. It expressed for him + many degrees of thanks. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you that's fine,” he said to Ughtred, who brought him + a flower from the garden. “I appreciate that.” + </p> + <p> + To Betty he said more than once: + </p> + <p> + “You know how I appreciate all this, Miss Vanderpoel. You DO know I + appreciate it, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + He had an immense admiration for Mount Dunstan, and talked to him a great + deal about America, often about the sheep ranch, and what it might have + done and ought to have done. But his admiration for Mr. Penzance became + affection. To him he talked oftener about England, and listened to the + vicar's scholarly stories of its history, its past glories and its present + ones, as he might have listened at fourteen to stories from the Arabian + Nights. + </p> + <p> + These two being frequently absorbed in conversation, Mount Dunstan was + rather thrown upon Betty's hands. When they strolled together about the + place or sat under the deep shade of green trees, they talked not only of + England and America, but of divers things which increased their knowledge + of each other. It is points of view which reveal qualities, tendencies, + and innate differences, or accordances of thought, and the points of view + of each interested the other. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Selden is asking Mr. Penzance questions about English history,” + Betty said, on one of the afternoons in which they sat in the shade. + “I need not ask you questions. You ARE English history.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are American history,” Mount Dunstan answered. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I am.” + </p> + <p> + At one of their chance meetings Miss Vanderpoel had told Lord Dunholm and + Lord Westholt something of the story of G. Selden. The novelty of it had + delighted and amused them. Lord Dunholm had, at points, been touched as + Penzance had been. Westholt had felt that he must ride over to Stornham to + see the convalescent. He wanted to learn some New York slang. + </p> + <p> + He would take lessons from Selden, and he would also buy a Delkoff—two + Delkoffs, if that would be better. He knew a hard-working fellow who ought + to have a typewriter. + </p> + <p> + “Heath ought to have one,” he had said to his father. Heath + was the house-steward. “Think of the letters the poor chap has to + write to trades-people to order things, and unorder them, and blackguard + the shopkeepers when they are not satisfactory. Invest in one for Heath, + father.” + </p> + <p> + “It is by no means a bad idea,” Lord Dunholm reflected. + “Time would be saved by the use of it, I have no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “It saves time in any department where it can be used,” Betty + had answered. “Three are now in use at Stornham, and I am going to + present one to Kedgers. This is a testimonial I am offering. Three weeks + ago I began to use the Delkoff. Since then I have used no other. If YOU + use them you will introduce them to the county.” + </p> + <p> + She understood the feeling of the junior assistant, when he found himself + in the presence of possible purchasers. Her blood tingled slightly. She + wished she had brought a catalogue. + </p> + <p> + “We will come to Stornham to see the catalogue,” Lord Dunholm + promised. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will read it aloud to us,” Westholt suggested + gleefully. + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden knows it by heart, and will repeat it to you with running + comments. Do you know I shall be very glad if you decide to buy one—or + two—or three,” with an uplift of the Irish blue eyes to Lord + Dunholm. “The blood of the first Reuben Vanderpoel stirs in my veins—also + I have begun to be fond of G. Selden.” + </p> + <p> + Therefore it occurred that on the afternoon referred to Lady Anstruthers + appeared crossing the sward with two male visitors in her wake. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt,” said Betty, rising. + </p> + <p> + For this meeting between the men Selden was, without doubt, responsible. + While his father talked to Mount Dunstan, Westholt explained that they had + come athirst for the catalogue. Presently Betty took him to the sheltered + corner of the lawn, where the convalescent sat with Mr. Penzance. + </p> + <p> + But, for a short time, Lord Dunholm remained to converse with Mount + Dunstan. In a way the situation was delicate. To encounter by chance a + neighbour whom one—for reasons—has not seen since his + childhood, and to be equal to passing over and gracefully obliterating the + intervening years, makes demand even upon finished tact. Lord Dunholm's + world had been a large one, and he had acquired experience tending to the + development of the most perfect methods. If G. Selden had chanced to be + the magnet which had decided his course this special afternoon, Miss + Vanderpoel it was who had stirred in him sufficient interest in Mount + Dunstan to cause him to use the best of these methods when he found + himself face to face with him. + </p> + <p> + He beautifully eliminated the years, he eliminated all but the facts that + the young man's father and himself had been acquaintances in youth, that + he remembered Mount Dunstan himself as a child, that he had heard with + interest of his visit to America. Whatsoever the young man felt, he made + no sign which presented obstacles. He accepted the eliminations with + outward composure. He was a powerful-looking fellow, with a fine way of + carrying his shoulders, and an eye which might be able to light savagely, + but just now, at least, he showed nothing of the sulkiness he was accused + of. + </p> + <p> + Lord Dunholm progressed admirably with him. He soon found that he need not + be upon any strain with regard to the eliminations. The man himself could + eliminate, which was an assistance. + </p> + <p> + They talked together when they turned to follow the others to the retreat + of G. Selden. + </p> + <p> + “Have you bought a Delkoff?” Lord Dunholm inquired. + </p> + <p> + “If I could have afforded it, I should have bought one.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that we have come here with the intention of buying three. + We did not know we required them until Miss Vanderpoel recited half a page + of the catalogue to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Three will mean a 'rake off' of fifteen dollars to G. Selden,” + said Mount Dunstan. It was, he saw, necessary that he should explain the + meaning of a “rake off,” and he did so to his companion's + entertainment. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon was a satisfactory one. They were all kind to G. Selden, and + he on his part was an aid to them. In his innocence he steered three of + them, at least, through narrow places into an open sea of easy + intercourse. This was a good beginning. The junior assistant was + recovering rapidly, and looked remarkably well. The doctor had told him + that he might try to use his leg. The inside cabin of the cheap Liner and + “little old New York” were looming up before him. But what + luck he had had, and what a holiday! It had been enough to set a fellow up + for ten years' work. It would set up the boys merely to be told about it. + He didn't know what HE had ever done to deserve such luck as had happened + to him. For the rest of his life he would he waving the Union Jack + alongside of the Stars and Stripes. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance it was who suggested that he should try the strength of the + leg now. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mount Dunstan said. “Let me help you.” + </p> + <p> + As he rose to go to him, Westholt good-naturedly got up also. They took + their places at either side of his invalid chair and assisted him to rise + and stand on his feet. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, gentlemen. It's all right,” he called out + with a delighted flush, when he found himself upright. “I believe I + could stand alone. Thank you. Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + He was able, leaning on Mount Dunstan's arm, to take a few steps. + Evidently, in a short time, he would find himself no longer disabled. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance had invited him to spend a week at the vicarage. He was to do + this as soon as he could comfortably drive from the one place to the + other. After receiving the invitation he had sent secretly to London for + one of the Delkoffs he had brought with him from America as a specimen. He + cherished in private a plan of gently entertaining his host by teaching + him to use the machine. The vicar would thus be prepared for that future + in which surely a Delkoff must in some way fall into his hands. Indeed, + Fortune having at length cast an eye on himself, might chance to favour + him further, and in time he might be able to send a “high-class + machine” as a grateful gift to the vicarage. Perhaps Mr. Penzance + would accept it because he would understand what it meant of feeling and + appreciation. + </p> + <p> + During the afternoon Lord Dunholm managed to talk a good deal with Mount + Dunstan. There was no air of intention in his manner, nevertheless + intention was concealed beneath its courteous amiability. He wanted to get + at the man. Before they parted he felt he had, perhaps, learned things + opening up new points of view. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + In the smoking-room at Dunholm that night he and his son talked of their + chance encounter. It seemed possible that mistakes had been made about + Mount Dunstan. One did not form a definite idea of a man's character in + the course of an afternoon, but he himself had been impressed by a + conviction that there had been mistakes. + </p> + <p> + “We are rather a stiff-necked lot—in the country—when we + allow ourselves to be taken possession of by an idea,” Westholt + commented. + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all proud of the way in which we have taken things for + granted,” was his father's summing up. “It is, perhaps, worth + observing,” taking his cigar from his mouth and smiling at the end + of it, as he removed the ash, “that, but for Miss Vanderpoel and G. + Selden, we might never have had an opportunity of facing the fact that we + may not have been giving fair play. And one has prided one's self on one's + fair play.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <h3> + A RETURN + </h3> + <p> + At the close of a long, warm afternoon Betty Vanderpoel came out upon the + square stone terrace overlooking the gardens, and that part of the park + which, enclosing them, caused them, as they melted into its greenness, to + lose all limitations and appear to be only a more blooming bit of the + landscape. + </p> + <p> + Upon the garden Betty's eyes dwelt, as she stood still for some minutes + taking in their effect thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Kedgers had certainly accomplished much. His close-trimmed lawns did him + credit, his flower beds were flushed and azured, purpled and snowed with + bloom. Sweet tall spires, hung with blue or white or rosy flower bells, + lifted their heads above the colour of lower growths. Only the fervent + affection, the fasting and prayer of a Kedgers could have done such + wonders with new things and old. The old ones he had cherished and allured + into a renewal of existence—the new ones he had so coaxed out of + their earthen pots into the soil, luxuriously prepared for their + reception, and had afterwards so nourished and bedewed with soft + waterings, so supported, watched over and adored that they had been almost + unconscious of their transplanting. Without assistants he could have done + nothing, but he had been given a sufficient number of under gardeners, and + had even managed to inspire them with something of his own ambition and + solicitude. The result was before Betty's eyes in an aspect which, to such + as knew the gardens well,—the Dunholms, for instance,—was + astonishing in its success. + </p> + <p> + “I've had privileges, miss, and so have the flowers,” Kedgers + had said warmly, when Miss Vanderpoel had reported to him, for his + encouragement, Dunholm Castle's praise. “Not one of 'em has ever had + to wait for his food and drink, nor to complain of his bed not being what + he was accustomed to. They've not had to wait for rain, for we've given it + to 'em from watering cans, and, thank goodness, the season's been kind to + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Betty, descending the terrace steps, wandered down the paths between the + flower beds, glancing about her as she went. The air of neglect and + desolation had been swept away. Buttle and Tim Soames had been given as + many privileges as Kedgers. The chief points impressed upon them had been + that the work must be done, not only thoroughly, but quickly. As many + additional workmen as they required, as much solid material as they + needed, but there must be a despatch which at first it staggered them to + contemplate. They had not known such methods before. They had been + accustomed to work under money limitation throughout their lives, and, + when work must be done with insufficient aid, it must be done slowly. + Economy had been the chief factor in all calculations, speed had not + entered into them, so leisureliness had become a fixed habit. But it + seemed American to sweep leisureliness away into space with a free + gesture. + </p> + <p> + “It must be done QUICKLY,” Miss Vanderpoel had said. “If + ten men cannot do it quickly enough, you must have twenty—or as many + more as are needed. It is time which must be saved just now.” + </p> + <p> + Time more than money, it appeared. Buttle's experience had been that you + might take time, if you did not charge for it. When time began to mean + money, that was a different matter. If you did work by the job, you might + drive in a few nails, loiter, and return without haste; if you worked by + the hour, your absence would be inquired into. In the present case no one + could loiter. That was realised early. The tall girl, with the deep + straight look at you, made you realise that without spoken words. She + expected energy something like her own. She was a new force and spurred + them. No man knew how it was done, but, when she appeared among them—even + in the afternoon—“lookin' that womany,” holding up her + thin dress over lace petticoats, the like of which had not been seen + before, she looked on with just the same straight, expecting eyes. They + did not seem to doubt in the least that she would find that great advance + had been made. + </p> + <p> + So advance had been made, and work accomplished. As Betty walked from one + place to another she saw the signs of it with gratification. The place was + not the one she had come to a few months ago. Hothouses, outbuildings, + stables were in repair. Work was still being done in different places. In + the house itself carpenters or decorators were enclosed in some rooms, and + at their business, but exterior order prevailed. In the courtyard + stablemen were at work, and her own groom came forward touching his + forehead. She paid a visit to the horses. They were fine creatures, and, + when she entered their stalls, made room for her and whinnied gently, in + well-founded expectation of sugar and bread which were kept in a cupboard + awaiting her visits. She smoothed velvet noses and patted satin sides, + talking to Mason a little before she went her way. + </p> + <p> + Then she strolled into the park. The park was always a pleasure. She was + in a thoughtful mood, and the soft green shadowed silence lured her. The + summer wind hus-s-shed the branches as it lightly waved them, the brown + earth of the avenue was sun-dappled, there were bird notes and calls to be + heard here and there and everywhere, if one only arrested one's attention + a moment to listen. And she was in a listening and dreaming mood—one + of the moods in which bird, leaf, and wind, sun, shade, and scent of + growing things have part. + </p> + <p> + And yet her thoughts were of mundane things. + </p> + <p> + It was on this avenue that G. Selden had met with his accident. He was + still at Dunstan vicarage, and yesterday Mount Dunstan, in calling, had + told them that Mr. Penzance was applying himself with delighted interest + to a study of the manipulation of the Delkoff. + </p> + <p> + The thought of Mount Dunstan brought with it the thought of her father. + This was because there was frequently in her mind a connection between the + two. How would the man of schemes, of wealth, and power almost unbounded, + regard the man born with a load about his neck—chained to earth by + it, standing in the midst of his hungering and thirsting possessions, his + hands empty of what would feed them and restore their strength? Would he + see any solution of the problem? She could imagine his looking at the + situation through his gaze at the man, and considering both in his summing + up. + </p> + <p> + “Circumstances and the man,” she had heard him say. “But + always the man first.” + </p> + <p> + Being no visionary, he did not underestimate the power of circumstance. + This Betty had learned from him. And what could practically be done with + circumstance such as this? The question had begun to recur to her. What + could she herself have done in the care of Rosy and Stornham, if chance + had not placed in her hand the strongest lever? What she had accomplished + had been easy—easy. All that had been required had been the + qualities which control of the lever might itself tend to create in one. + Given—by mere chance again—imagination and initiative, the + moving of the lever did the rest. If chance had not been on one's side, + what then? And where was this man's chance? She had said to Rosy, in + speaking of the wealth of America, “Sometimes one is tired of it.” + And Rosy had reminded her that there were those who were not tired of it, + who could bear some of the burden of it, if it might be laid on their own + shoulders. The great beautiful, blind-faced house, awaiting its slow doom + in the midst of its lonely unfed lands—what could save it, and all + it represented of race and name, and the stately history of men, but the + power one professed to call base and sordid—mere money? She felt a + sudden impatience at herself for having said she was tired of it. That was + a folly which took upon itself the aspect of an affectation. + </p> + <p> + And, if a man could not earn money—or go forth to rob richer + neighbours of it as in the good old marauding days—or accept it if + it were offered to him as a gift—what could he do? Nothing. If he + had been born a village labourer, he could have earned by the work of his + hands enough to keep his cottage roof over him, and have held up his head + among his fellows. But for such as himself there was no mere labour which + would avail. He had not that rough honest resource. Only the decent living + and orderly management of the generations behind him would have left to + him fairly his own chance to hold with dignity the place in the world into + which Fate had thrust him at the outset—a blind, newborn thing of + whom no permission had been asked. + </p> + <p> + “If I broke stones upon the highway for twelve hours a day, I might + earn two shillings,” he had said to Betty, on the previous day. + “I could break stones well,” holding out a big arm, “but + fourteen shillings a week will do no more than buy bread and bacon for a + stonebreaker.” + </p> + <p> + He was ordinarily rather silent and stiff in his conversational attitude + towards his own affairs. Betty sometimes wondered how she herself knew so + much about them—how it happened that her thoughts so often dwelt + upon them. The explanation she had once made to herself had been half + irony, half serious reflection. + </p> + <p> + “It is a result of the first Reuben Vanderpoel. It is because I am + of the fighting commercial stock, and, when I see a business problem, I + cannot leave it alone, even when it is no affair of mine.” + </p> + <p> + As an exposition of the type of the commercial fighting-stock she + presented, as she paused beneath overshadowing trees, an aspect + beautifully suggesting a far different thing. + </p> + <p> + She stood—all white from slim shoe to tilted parasol,—and + either the result of her inspection of the work done by her order, or a + combination of her summer-day mood with her feeling for the problem, had + given her a special radiance. It glowed on lip and cheek, and shone in her + Irish eyes. + </p> + <p> + She had paused to look at a man approaching down the avenue. He was not a + labourer, and she did not know him. Men who were not labourers usually + rode or drove, and this one was walking. He was neither young nor old, + and, though at a distance his aspect was not attracting, she found that + she regarded him curiously, and waited for him to draw nearer. + </p> + <p> + The man himself was glancing about him with a puzzled look and knitted + forehead. When he had passed through the village he had seen things he had + not expected to see; when he had reached the entrance gate, and—for + reasons of his own—dismissed his station trap, he had looked at the + lodge scrutinisingly, because he was not prepared for its picturesque + trimness. The avenue was free from weeds and in order, the two gates + beyond him were new and substantial. As he went on his way and reached the + first, he saw at about a hundred yards distance a tall girl in white + standing watching him. Things which were not easily explainable always + irritated him. That this place—which was his own affair—should + present an air of mystery, did not improve his humour, which was bad to + begin with. He had lately been passing through unpleasant things, which + had left him feeling himself tricked and made ridiculous—as only + women can trick a man and make him ridiculous, he had said to himself. And + there had been an acrid consolation in looking forward to the relief of + venting one's self on a woman who dare not resent. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened, confound it!” he muttered, when he caught + sight of the girl. “Have we set up a house party?” And then, + as he saw more distinctly, “Damn! What a figure!” + </p> + <p> + By this time Betty herself had begun to see more clearly. Surely this was + a face she remembered—though the passing of years and ugly living + had thickened and blurred, somewhat, its always heavy features. Suddenly + she knew it, and the look in its eyes—the look she had, as a child, + unreasoningly hated. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers had returned from his private holiday. + </p> + <p> + As she took a few quiet steps forward to meet him, their eyes rested on + each other. After a night or two in town his were slightly bloodshot, and + the light in them was not agreeable. + </p> + <p> + It was he who spoke first, and it is possible that he did not quite intend + to use the expletive which broke from him. But he was remembering things + also. Here were eyes he, too, had seen before—twelve years ago in + the face of an objectionable, long-legged child in New York. And his own + hatred of them had been founded in his own opinion on the best of reasons. + And here they gazed at him from the face of a young beauty—for a + beauty she was. + </p> + <p> + “Damn it!” he exclaimed; “it is Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered, with a faint, but entirely courteous, + smile. “It is. I hope you are very well.” + </p> + <p> + She held out her hand. “A delicious hand,” was what he said to + himself, as he took it. And what eyes for a girl to have in her head were + those which looked out at him between shadows. Was there a hint of the + devil in them? He thought so—he hoped so, since she had descended on + the place in this way. But WHAT the devil was the meaning of her being on + the spot at all? He was, however, far beyond the lack of astuteness which + might have permitted him to express this last thought at this particular + juncture. He was only betrayed into stupid mistakes, afterwards to be + regretted, when rage caused him utterly to lose control of his wits. And, + though he was startled and not exactly pleased, he was not in a rage now. + The eyelashes and the figure gave an agreeable fillip to his humour. + Howsoever she had come, she was worth looking at. + </p> + <p> + “How could one expect such a delightful thing as this?” he + said, with a touch of ironic amiability. “It is more than one + deserves.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very polite of you to say that,” answered Betty. + </p> + <p> + He was thinking rapidly as he stood and gazed at her. There were, in + truth, many things to think of under circumstances so unexpected. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you to excuse my staring at you?” he inquired with + what Rosy had called his “awful, agreeable smile.” “When + I saw you last you were a fierce nine-year-old American child. I use the + word 'fierce' because—if you'll pardon my saying so—there was + a certain ferocity about you.” + </p> + <p> + “I have learned at various educational institutions to conceal it,” + smiled Betty. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask when you arrived?” + </p> + <p> + “A short time after you went abroad.” + </p> + <p> + “Rosalie did not inform me of your arrival.” + </p> + <p> + “She did not know your address. You had forgotten to leave it.” + </p> + <p> + He had made a mistake and realised it. But she presented to him no air of + having observed his slip. He paused a few seconds, still regarding her and + still thinking rapidly. He recalled the mended windows and roofs and + palings in the village, the park gates and entrance. Who the devil had + done all that? How could a mere handsome girl be concerned in it? And yet—here + she was. + </p> + <p> + “When I drove through the village,” he said next, “I saw + that some remarkable changes had taken place on my property. I feel as if + you can explain them to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope they are changes which meet with your approval.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite—quite,” a little curtly. “Though I confess + they mystify me. Though I am the son-in-law of an American + multimillionaire, I could not afford to make such repairs myself.” + </p> + <p> + A certain small spitefulness which was his most frequent undoing made it + impossible for him to resist adding the innuendo in his last sentence. And + again he saw it was a folly. The impersonal tone of her reply simply left + him where he had placed himself. + </p> + <p> + “We were sorry not to be able to reach you. As it seemed well to + begin the work at once, we consulted Messrs. Townlinson & Sheppard.” + </p> + <p> + “We?” he repeated. “Am I to have the pleasure,” + with a slight wryness of the mouth, “of finding Mr. Vanderpoel also + at Stornham?” + </p> + <p> + “No—not yet. As I was on the spot, I saw your solicitors and + asked their advice and approval—for my father. If he had known how + necessary the work was, it would have been done before, for Ughtred's + sake.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was that of a person who, in stating obvious facts, provides no + approach to enlightening comment upon them. And there was in her manner + the merest gracious impersonality. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that Mr. Vanderpoel employed someone to visit the + place and direct the work?” + </p> + <p> + “It was really not difficult to direct. It was merely a matter of + engaging labour and competent foremen.” + </p> + <p> + An odd expression rose in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You suggest a novel idea, upon my word,” he said. “Is + it possible—you see I know something of America—is it possible + I must thank YOU for the working of this magic?” + </p> + <p> + “You need not thank me,” she said, rather slowly, because it + was necessary that she also should think of many things at once. “I + could not have helped doing it.” + </p> + <p> + She wished to make all clear to him before he met Rosy. She knew it was + not unnatural that the unexpectedness of his appearance might deprive Lady + Anstruthers of presence of mind. Instinct told her that what was needed in + intercourse with him was, above all things, presence of mind. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you about it,” she said. “We will walk + slowly up and down here, if you do not object.” + </p> + <p> + He did not object. He wanted to hear the story as he could not hear it + from his nervous little fool of a wife, who would be frightened into + forgetting things and their sequence. What he meant to discover was where + he stood in the matter—where his father-in-law stood, and, rather + specially, to have a chance to sum up the weaknesses and strengths of the + new arrival. That would be to his interest. In talking this thing over she + would unconsciously reveal how much vanity or emotion or inexperience he + might count upon as factors safe to use in one's dealings with her in the + future. + </p> + <p> + As he listened he was supported by the fact that he did not lose + consciousness of the eyes and the figure. But for these it is probable + that he would have gone blind with fury at certain points which forced + themselves upon him. The first was that there had been an absurd and + immense expenditure which would simply benefit his son and not himself. He + could not sell or borrow money on what had been given. Apparently the + place had been re-established on a footing such as it had not rested upon + during his own generation, or his father's. As he loathed life in the + country, it was not he who would enjoy its luxury, but his wife and her + child. The second point was that these people—this girl—had + somehow had the sharpness to put themselves in the right, and to place him + in a position at which he could not complain without putting himself in + the wrong. Public opinion would say that benefits had been heaped upon + him, that the correct thing had been done correctly with the knowledge and + approval of the legal advisers of his family. It had been a masterly + thing, that visit to Townlinson & Sheppard. He was obliged to aid his + self-control by a glance at the eyelashes. She was a new sort of girl, + this Betty, whose childhood he had loathed, and, to his jaded taste, + novelty appealed enormously. Her attraction for him was also added to by + the fact that he was not at all sure that there was not combined with it a + pungent spice of the old detestation. He was repelled as well as allured. + She represented things which he hated. First, the mere material power, + which no man can bully, whatsoever his humour. It was the power he most + longed for and, as he could not hope to possess it, most sneered at and + raged against. Also, as she talked, it was plain that her habit of + self-control and her sense of resource would be difficult to deal with. He + was a survival of the type of man whose simple creed was that women should + not possess resources, as when they possessed them they could rarely be + made to behave themselves. + </p> + <p> + But while he thought these things, he walked by her side and both listened + and talked smiling the agreeable smile. + </p> + <p> + “You will pardon my dull bewilderment,” he said. “It is + not unnatural, is it—in a mere outsider?” + </p> + <p> + And Betty, with the beautiful impersonal smile, said: + </p> + <p> + “We felt it so unfortunate that even your solicitors did not know + your address.” + </p> + <p> + When, at length, they turned and strolled towards the house, a carriage + was drawing up before the door, and at the sight of it, Betty saw her + companion slightly lift his eyebrows. Lady Anstruthers had been out and + was returning. The groom got down from the box, and two men-servants + appeared upon the steps. Lady Anstruthers descended, laughing a little as + she talked to Ughtred, who had been with her. She was dressed in clear, + pale grey, and the soft rose lining of her parasol warmed the colour of + her skin. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel paused a second and put up his glass. + </p> + <p> + “Is that my wife?” he said. “Really! She quite recalls + New York.” + </p> + <p> + The agreeable smile was on his lips as he hastened forward. He always more + or less enjoyed coming upon Rosalie suddenly. The obvious result was a + pleasing tribute to his power. + </p> + <p> + Betty, following him, saw what occurred. + </p> + <p> + Ughtred saw him first, and spoke quick and low. + </p> + <p> + “Mother!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The tone of his voice was evidently enough. Lady Anstruthers turned with + an unmistakable start. The rose lining of her parasol ceased to warm her + colour. In fact, the parasol itself stepped aside, and she stood with a + blank, stiff, white face. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Rosalie,” said Sir Nigel, going towards her. “You + don't look very glad to see me.” + </p> + <p> + He bent and kissed her quite with the air of a devoted husband. Knowing + what the caress meant, and seeing Rosy's face as she submitted to it, + Betty felt rather cold. After the conjugal greeting he turned to Ughtred. + </p> + <p> + “You look remarkably well,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Betty came forward. + </p> + <p> + “We met in the park, Rosy,” she explained. “We have been + talking to each other for half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + The atmosphere which had surrounded her during the last three months had + done much for Lady Anstruthers' nerves. She had the power to recover + herself. Sir Nigel himself saw this when she spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I was startled because I was not expecting to see you,” she + said. “I thought you were still on the Riviera. I hope you had a + pleasant journey home.” + </p> + <p> + “I had an extraordinarily pleasant surprise in finding your sister + here,” he answered. And they went into the house. + </p> + <p> + In descending the staircase on his way to the drawing-room before dinner, + Sir Nigel glanced about him with interested curiosity. If the village had + been put in order, something more had been done here. Remembering the worn + rugs and the bald-headed tiger, he lifted his brows. To leave one's house + in a state of resigned dilapidation and return to find it filled with all + such things as comfort combined with excellent taste might demand, was an + enlivening experience—or would have been so under some + circumstances. As matters stood, perhaps, he might have felt better + pleased if things had been less well done. But they were very well done. + They had managed to put themselves in the right in this also. The rich + sobriety of colour and form left no opening for supercilious comment—which + was a neat weapon it was annoying to be robbed of. + </p> + <p> + The drawing-room was fresh, brightly charming, and full of flowers. Betty + was standing before an open window with her sister. His wife's shoulders, + he observed at once, had absolutely begun to suggest contours. At all + events, her bones no longer stuck out. But one did not look at one's + wife's shoulders when one could turn from them to a fairness of velvet and + ivory. “You know,” he said, approaching them, “I find + all this very amazing. I have been looking out of my window on to the + gardens.” + </p> + <p> + “It is Betty who has done it all,” said Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “I did not suspect you of doing it, my dear Rosalie,” smiling. + “When I saw Betty standing in the avenue, I knew at once that it was + she who had mended the chimney-pots in the village and rehung the gates.” + </p> + <p> + For the present, at least, it was evident that he meant to be sufficiently + amiable. At the dinner table he was conversational and asked many + questions, professing a natural interest in what had been done. It was not + difficult to talk to a girl whose eyes and shoulders combined themselves + with a quick wit and a power to attract which he reluctantly owned he had + never seen equalled. His reluctance arose from the fact that such a power + complicated matters. He must be on the defensive until he knew what she + was going to do, what he must do himself, and what results were probable + or possible. He had spent his life in intrigue of one order or another. He + enjoyed outwitting people and rather preferred to attain an end by devious + paths. He began every acquaintance on the defensive. His argument was that + you never knew how things would turn out, consequently, it was as well to + conduct one's self at the outset with the discreet forethought of a man in + the presence of an enemy. He did not know how things would turn out in + Betty's case, and it was a little confusing to find one's self watching + her with a sense of excitement. He would have preferred to be cool—to + be cold—and he realised that he could not keep his eyes off her. + </p> + <p> + “I remember, with regret,” he said to her later in the + evening, “that when you were a child we were enemies.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we were,” was Betty's impartial answer. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure it was my fault,” he said. “Pray forget it. + Since you have accomplished such wonders, will you not, in the morning, + take me about the place and explain to me how it has been done?” + </p> + <p> + When Betty went to her room she dismissed her maid as soon as possible, + and sat for some time alone and waiting. She had had no opportunity to + speak to Rosy in private, and she was sure she would come to her. In the + course of half an hour she heard a knock at the door. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was Rosy, and her newly-born colour had fled and left her looking + dragged again. She came forward and dropped into a low chair near Betty, + letting her face fall into her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry, Betty,” she half whispered, “but it is + no use.” + </p> + <p> + “What is no use?” Betty asked. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is any use. All these years have made me such a coward. I + suppose I always was a coward, but in the old days there never was + anything to be afraid of.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you most afraid of now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. That is the worst. I am afraid of HIM—just of + himself—of the look in his eyes—of what he may be planning + quietly. My strength dies away when he comes near me.” + </p> + <p> + “What has he said to you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He came into my dressing-room and sat and talked. He looked about + from one thing to another and pretended to admire it all and congratulated + me. But though he did not sneer at what he saw, his eyes were sneering at + me. He talked about you. He said that you were a very clever woman. I + don't know how he manages to imply that a very clever woman is something + cunning and debased—but it means that when he says it. It seems to + insinuate things which make one grow hot all over.” + </p> + <p> + She put out a hand and caught one of Betty's. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, Betty,” she implored. “Don't make him angry. + Don't.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not going to begin by making him angry,” Betty said. + “And I do not think he will try to make me angry—at first.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he will not,” cried Rosalie. “And—and you + remember what I told you when first we talked about him?” + </p> + <p> + “And do you remember,” was Betty's answer, “what I said + to you when I first met you in the park? If we were to cable to New York + this moment, we could receive an answer in a few hours.” + </p> + <p> + “He would not let us do it,” said Rosy. “He would stop + us in some way—as he stopped my letters to mother—as he + stopped me when I tried to run away. Oh, Betty, I know him and you do not.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall know him better every day. That is what I must do. I must + learn to know him. He said something more to you than you have told me, + Rosy. What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “He waited until Detcham left me,” Lady Anstruthers confessed, + more than half reluctantly. “And then he got up to go away, and + stood with his hands resting on the chairback, and spoke to me in a low, + queer voice. He said, 'Don't try to play any tricks on me, my good girl—and + don't let your sister try to play any. You would both have reason to + regret it.'” + </p> + <p> + She was a half-hypnotised thing, and Betty, watching her with curious but + tender eyes, recognised the abnormality. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if I am a clever woman,” she said, “he is a clever + man. He is beginning to see that his power is slipping away. That was what + G. Selden would call 'bluff.'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <h3> + NO, SHE WOULD NOT + </h3> + <p> + Sir Nigel did not invite Rosalie to accompany them, when the next morning, + after breakfast, he reminded Betty of his suggestion of the night before, + that she should walk over the place with him, and show him what had been + done. He preferred to make his study of his sister-in-law undisturbed. + </p> + <p> + There was no detail whose significance he missed as they went about + together. He had keen eyes and was a quite sufficiently practical person + on such matters as concerned his own interests. In this case it was to his + interest to make up his mind as to what he might gain or lose by the + appearance of his wife's family. He did not mean to lose—if it could + be helped—anything either of personal importance or material + benefit. And it could only be helped by his comprehending clearly what he + had to deal with. Betty was, at present, the chief factor in the + situation, and he was sufficiently astute to see that she might not be + easy to read. His personal theories concerning women presented to him two + or three effective ways of managing them. You made love to them, you + flattered them either subtly or grossly, you roughly or smoothly bullied + them, or you harrowed them with haughty indifference—if your + love-making had produced its proper effect—when it was necessary to + lure or drive or trick them into submission. Women should be made useful + in one way or another. Little fool as she was, Rosalie had been useful. He + had, after all was said and done, had some comparatively easy years as the + result of her existence. But she had not been useful enough, and there had + even been moments when he had wondered if he had made a mistake in + separating her entirely from her family. There might have been more to be + gained if he had allowed them to visit her and had played the part of a + devoted husband in their presence. A great bore, of course, but they could + not have spent their entire lives at Stornham. Twelve years ago, however, + he had known very little of Americans, and he had lost his temper. He was + really very fond of his temper, and rather enjoyed referring to it with + tolerant regret as being a bad one and beyond his control—with a + manner which suggested that the attribute was the inevitable result of + strength of character and masculine spirit. The luxury of giving way to it + was a great one, and it was exasperating as he walked about with this + handsome girl to find himself beginning to suspect that, where she was + concerned, some self-control might be necessary. He was led to this + thought because the things he took in on all sides could only have been + achieved by a person whose mind was a steadily-balanced thing. In one's + treatment of such a creature, methods must be well chosen. The crudest had + sufficed to overwhelm Rosalie. He tried two or three little things as + experiments during their walk. + </p> + <p> + The first was to touch with dignified pathos on the subject of Ughtred. + Betty, he intimated gently, could imagine what a man's grief and + disappointment might be on finding his son and heir deformed in such a + manner. The delicate reserve with which he managed to convey his fear that + Rosalie's own uncontrolled hysteric attacks had been the cause of the + misfortune was very well done. She had, of course, been very young and + much spoiled, and had not learned self-restraint, poor girl. + </p> + <p> + It was at this point that Betty first realised a certain hideous thing. + She must actually remain silent—there would be at the outset many + times when she could only protect her sister by refraining from either + denial or argument. If she turned upon him now with refutation, it was + Rosy who would be called upon to bear the consequences. He would go at + once to Rosy, and she herself would have done what she had said she would + not do—she would have brought trouble upon the poor girl before she + was strong enough to bear it. She suspected also that his intention was to + discover how much she had heard, and if she might be goaded into betraying + her attitude in the matter. + </p> + <p> + But she was not to be so goaded. He watched her closely and her very + colour itself seemed to be under her own control. He had expected—if + she had heard hysteric, garbled stories from his wife—to see a flame + of scarlet leap up on the cheek he was admiring. There was no such leap, + which was baffling in itself. Could it be that experience had taught + Rosalie the discretion of keeping her mouth shut? + </p> + <p> + “I am very fond of Ughtred,” was the sole comment he was + granted. “We made friends from the first. As he grows older and + stronger, his misfortune may be less apparent. He will be a very clever + man.” + </p> + <p> + “He will be a very clever man if he is at all like——” + He checked himself with a slight movement of his shoulders. “I was + going to say a thing utterly banal. I beg your pardon. I forgot for the + moment that I was not talking to an English girl.” + </p> + <p> + It was so stupid that she turned and looked at him, smiling faintly. But + her answer was quite mild and soft. + </p> + <p> + “Do not deprive me of compliments because I am a mere American,” + she said. “I am very fond of them, and respond at once.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very daring,” he said, looking straight into her eyes—“deliciously + so. American women always are, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “The young devil,” he was saying internally. “The + beautiful young devil! She throws one off the track.” + </p> + <p> + He found himself more and more attracted and exasperated as they made + their rounds. It was his sense of being attracted which was the cause of + his exasperation. A girl who could stir one like this would be a dangerous + enemy. Even as a friend she would not be safe, because one faced the + absurd peril of losing one's head a little and forgetting the precautions + one should never lose sight of where a woman was concerned—the + precautions which provided for one's holding a good taut rein in one's own + hands. + </p> + <p> + They went from gardens to greenhouses, from greenhouses to stables, and he + was on the watch for the moment when she would reveal some little feminine + pose or vanity, but, this morning, at least, she laid none bare. She did + not strike him as a being of angelic perfections, but she was very modern + and not likely to show easily any openings in her armour. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I continue to be amazed,” he commented, “though + one ought not to be amazed at anything which evolves from your + extraordinary country. In spite of your impersonal air, I shall persist in + regarding you as my benefactor. But, to be frank, I always told Rosalie + that if she would write to your father he would certainly put things in + order.” + </p> + <p> + “She did write once, you will remember,” answered Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Did she?” with courteous vagueness. “Really, I am + afraid I did not hear of it. My poor wife has her own little ideas about + the disposal of her income.” + </p> + <p> + And Betty knew that she was expected to believe that Rosy had hoarded the + money sent to restore the place, and from sheer weak miserliness had + allowed her son's heritage to fall to ruin. And but for Rosy's sake, she + might have stopped upon the path and, looking at him squarely, have said, + “You are lying to me. And I know the truth.” + </p> + <p> + He continued to converse amiably. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it is you one must thank, not only for rousing in the + poor girl some interest in her personal appearance, but also some interest + in her neighbours. Some women, after they marry and pass girlhood, seem to + release their hold on all desire to attract or retain friends. For years + Rosalie has given herself up to a chronic semi-invalidism. When the + mistress of a house is always depressed and languid and does not return + visits, neighbours become discouraged and drop off, as it were.” + </p> + <p> + If his wife had told stories to gain her sympathy his companion would be + sure to lose her temper and show her hand. If he could make her openly + lose her temper, he would have made an advance. + </p> + <p> + “One can quite understand that,” she said. “It is a + great happiness to me to see Rosy gaining ground every day. She has taken + me out with her a good many times, and people are beginning to realise + that she likes to see them at Stornham.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very delightful,” he said, “with your 'She has + taken me out.' When I glanced at the magnificent array of cards on the + salver in the hall, I realised a number of things, and quite vulgarly lost + my breath. The Dunholms have been very amiable in recalling our existence. + But charming Americans—of your order—arouse amiable emotions.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very amiable myself,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + It was he who flushed now. He was losing patience at feeling himself held + with such lightness at arm's length, and at being, in spite of himself, + somehow compelled to continue to assume a jocular courtesy. + </p> + <p> + “No, you are not,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Not?” repeated Betty, with an incredulous lifting of her + brows. + </p> + <p> + “You are charming and clever, but I rather suspect you of being a + vixen. At all events you are a spirited young woman and quick-witted + enough to understand the attraction you must have for the sordid herd.” + </p> + <p> + And then he became aware—if not of an opening in her armour—at + least of a joint in it. For he saw, near her ear, a deepening warmth. That + was it. She was quick-witted, and she hid somewhere a hot pride. + </p> + <p> + “I confess, however,” he proceeded cheerfully, “that + notwithstanding my own experience of the habits of the sordid herd, I saw + one card I was surprised to find, though really”—shrugging his + shoulders—“I ought to have been less surprised to find it than + to find any other. But it was bold. I suppose the fellow is desperate.” + </p> + <p> + “You are speaking of——?” suggested Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Of Mount Dunstan. Hang it all, it WAS bold!” As if in + half-amused disgust. + </p> + <p> + As she had walked through the garden paths, Betty had at intervals bent + and gathered a flower, until she held in one hand a loose, fair sheaf. At + this moment she stooped to break off a spire of pale blue campanula. And + she was—as with a shock—struck with a consciousness that she + bent because she must—because to do so was a refuge—a + concealment of something she must hide. It had come upon her without a + second's warning. Sir Nigel was right. She was a vixen—a virago. She + was in such a rage that her heart sprang up and down and her cheek and + eyes were on fire. Her long-trained control of herself was gone. And her + shock was a lightning-swift awakening to the fact that she felt all this—she + must hide her face—because it was this one man—just this one + and no other—who was being dragged into this thing with insult. + </p> + <p> + It was an awakening, and she broke off, rather slowly, one—two—three—even + four campanula stems before she stood upright again. + </p> + <p> + As for Nigel Anstruthers—he went on talking in his low-pitched, + disgusted voice. + </p> + <p> + “Surely he might count himself out of the running. There will be a + good deal of running, my dear Betty. You fair Americans have learned that + by this time. But that a man who has not even a decent name to offer—who + is blackballed by his county—should coolly present himself as a + pretendant is an insolence he should be kicked for.” + </p> + <p> + Betty arranged her campanulas carefully. There was no exterior reason why + she should draw sword in Lord Mount Dunstan's defence. He had certainly + not seemed to expect anything intimately interested from her. His manner + she had generally felt to be rather restrained. But one could, in a + measure, express one's self. + </p> + <p> + “Whatsoever the 'running,'” she remarked, “no pretendant + has complimented me by presenting himself, so far—and Lord Mount + Dunstan is physically an unusually strong man.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean it would be difficult to kick him? Is this partisanship? I + hope not. Am I to understand,” he added with deliberation, “that + Rosalie has received him here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And that you have received him, also—as you have received + Lord Westholt?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I must discuss the matter with Rosalie. It is not to be + discussed with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you will exercise your authority in the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “In England, my dear girl, the master of a house is still sometimes + guilty of exercising authority in matters which concern the reputation of + his female relatives. In the absence of your father, I shall not allow + you, while you are under my roof, to endanger your name in any degree. I + am, at least, your brother by marriage. I intend to protect you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “You are young and extremely handsome, you will have an enormous + fortune, and you have evidently had your own way all your life. A girl, + such as you are, may either make a magnificent marriage or a ridiculous + and humiliating one. Neither American young women, nor English young men, + are as disinterested as they were some years ago. Each has begun to learn + what the other has to give.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that is true,” commented Betty. + </p> + <p> + “In some cases there is a good deal to be exchanged on both sides. + You have a great deal to give, and should get exchange worth accepting. A + beggared estate and a tainted title are not good enough.” + </p> + <p> + “That is businesslike,” Betty made comment again. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel laughed quietly. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is—I hope you won't misunderstand my saying it—you + do not strike me as being UN-businesslike, yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not,” answered Betty. + </p> + <p> + “I thought not,” rather narrowing his eyes as he watched her, + because he believed that she must involuntarily show her hand if he + irritated her sufficiently. “You do not impress me as being one of + the girls who make unsuccessful marriages. You are a modern New York + beauty—not an early Victorian sentimentalist.” He did not + despair of results from his process of irritation. To gently but steadily + convey to a beautiful and spirited young creature that no man could + approach her without ulterior motive was rather a good idea. If one could + make it clear—with a casual air of sensibly taking it for granted—that + the natural power of youth, wit, and beauty were rendered impotent by a + greatness of fortune whose proportions obliterated all else; if one simply + argued from the premise that young love was no affair of hers, since she + must always be regarded as a gilded chattel, whose cost was writ large in + plain figures, what girl, with blood in her veins, could endure it long + without wincing? This girl had undue, and, as he regarded such matters, + unseemly control over her temper and her nerves, but she had blood enough + in her veins, and presently she would say or do something which would give + him a lead. + </p> + <p> + “When you marry——” he began. + </p> + <p> + She lifted her head delicately, but ended the sentence for him with eyes + which were actually not unsmiling. + </p> + <p> + “When I marry, I shall ask something in exchange for what I have to + give.” + </p> + <p> + “If the exchange is to be equal, you must ask a great deal,” + he answered. “That is why you must be protected from such fellows as + Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + “If it becomes necessary, perhaps I shall be able to protect myself,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” regretfully, “I am afraid I have annoyed you—and + that you need protection more than you suspect.” If she were flesh + and blood, she could scarcely resist resenting the implication contained + in this. But resist it she did, and with a cool little smile which stirred + him to sudden, if irritated, admiration. + </p> + <p> + She paused a second, and used the touch of gentle regret herself. + </p> + <p> + “You have wounded my vanity by intimating that my admirers do not + love me for myself alone.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, also, and, narrowing his eyes again, looked straight between + her lashes. + </p> + <p> + “They ought to love you for yourself alone,” he said, in a low + voice. “You are a deucedly attractive girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Betty,” Rosy had pleaded, “don't make him angry—don't + make him angry.” + </p> + <p> + So Betty lifted her shoulders slightly without comment. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go back to the house now?” she said. “Rosalie + will naturally be anxious to hear that what has been done in your absence + has met with your approval.” + </p> + <p> + In what manner his approval was expressed to Rosalie, Betty did not hear + this morning, at least. Externally cool though she had appeared, the + process had not been without its results, and she felt that she would + prefer to be alone. + </p> + <p> + “I must write some letters to catch the next steamer,” she + said, as she went upstairs. + </p> + <p> + When she entered her room, she went to her writing table and sat down, + with pen and paper before her. She drew the paper towards her and took up + the pen, but the next moment she laid it down and gave a slight push to + the paper. As she did so she realised that her hand trembled. + </p> + <p> + “I must not let myself form the habit of falling into rages—or + I shall not be able to keep still some day, when I ought to do it,” + she whispered. “I am in a fury—a fury.” And for a moment + she covered her face. + </p> + <p> + She was a strong girl, but a girl, notwithstanding her powers. What she + suddenly saw was that, as if by one movement of some powerful unseen hand, + Rosy, who had been the centre of all things, had been swept out of her + thought. Her anger at the injustice done to Rosy had been as nothing + before the fire which had flamed in her at the insult flung at the other. + And all that was undue and unbalanced. One might as well look the thing + straightly in the face. Her old child hatred of Nigel Anstruthers had + sprung up again in ten-fold strength. There was, it was true, something + abominable about him, something which made his words more abominable than + they would have been if another man had uttered them—but, though it + was inevitable that his method should rouse one, where those of one's own + blood were concerned, it was not enough to fill one with raging flame when + his malignity was dealing with those who were almost strangers. Mount + Dunstan was almost a stranger—she had met Lord Westholt oftener. + Would she have felt the same hot beat of the blood, if Lord Westholt had + been concerned? No, she answered herself frankly, she would not. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII + </h2> + <h3> + A GREAT BALL + </h3> + <p> + A certain great ball, given yearly at Dunholm Castle, was one of the most + notable social features of the county. It took place when the house was + full of its most interestingly distinguished guests, and, though other + balls might be given at other times, this one was marked by a degree of + greater state. On several occasions the chief guests had been great + personages indeed, and to be bidden to meet them implied a selection + flattering in itself. One's invitation must convey by inference that one + was either brilliant, beautiful, or admirable, if not important. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers had never appeared at what the uninvited were wont, with + derisive smiles, to call The Great Panjandrum Function—which was an + ironic designation not employed by such persons as received cards bidding + them to the festivity. Stornham Court was not popular in the county; no + one had yearned for the society of the Dowager Lady Anstruthers, even in + her youth; and a not too well-favoured young man with an ill-favoured + temper, noticeably on the lookout for grievances, is not an addition to + one's circle. At nineteen Nigel had discovered the older Lord Mount + Dunstan and his son Tenham to be congenial acquaintances, and had been so + often absent from home that his neighbours would have found social + intercourse with him difficult, even if desirable. Accordingly, when the + county paper recorded the splendours of The Great Panjandrum Function—which + it by no means mentioned by that name—the list of “Among those + present” had not so far contained the name of Sir Nigel Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + So, on a morning a few days after his return, the master of Stornham + turned over a card of invitation and read it several times before + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know what this means,” he said at last to + Rosalie, who was alone with him. + </p> + <p> + “It means that we are invited to Dunholm Castle for the ball, + doesn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Her husband tossed the card aside on the table. + </p> + <p> + “It means that Betty will be invited to every house where there is a + son who must be disposed of profitably. + </p> + <p> + “She is invited because she is beautiful and clever. She would be + invited if she had no money at all,” said Rosy daringly. She was + actually growing daring, she thought sometimes. It would not have been + possible to say anything like this a few months ago. + </p> + <p> + “Don't make silly mistakes,” said Nigel. “There are a + good many handsome girls who receive comparatively little attention. But + the hounds of war are let loose, when one of your swollen American + fortunes appears. The obviousness of it 'virtuously' makes me sick. It's + as vulgar—as New York.” + </p> + <p> + What befel next brought to Sir Nigel a shock of curious enlightenment, but + no one was more amazed than Rosy herself. She felt, when she heard her own + voice, as if she must be rather mad. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather,” she said quite distinctly, “that you + did not speak to me of New York in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” said Anstruthers, staring at her with contempt which + was derision. + </p> + <p> + “It is my home,” she answered. “It is not proper that I + should hear it spoken of slightingly.” + </p> + <p> + “Your home! It has not taken the slightest notice of you for twelve + years. Your people dropped you as if you were a hot potato.” + </p> + <p> + “They have taken me up again.” Still in amazement at her own + boldness, but somehow learning something as she went on. + </p> + <p> + He walked over to her side, and stood before her. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Rosalie,” he said. “You have been taking + lessons from your sister. She is a beauty and young and you are not. + People will stand things from her they will not take from you. I would + stand some things myself, because it rather amuses a man to see a fine + girl peacocking. It's merely ridiculous in you, and I won't stand it—not + a bit of it.” + </p> + <p> + It was not specially fortunate for him that the door opened as he was + speaking, and Betty came in with her own invitation in her hand. He was + quick enough, however, to turn to greet her with a shrug of his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “I am being favoured with a little scene by my wife,” he + explained. “She is capable of getting up excellent little scenes, + but I daresay she does not show you that side of her temper.” + </p> + <p> + Betty took a comfortable chintz-covered, easy chair. Her expression was + evasively speculative. + </p> + <p> + “Was it a scene I interrupted?” she said. “Then I must + not go away and leave you to finish it. You were saying that you would not + 'stand' something. What does a man do when he will not 'stand' a thing? It + always sounds so final and appalling—as if he were threatening + horrible things such as, perhaps, were a resource in feudal times. What IS + the resource in these dull days of law and order—and policemen?” + </p> + <p> + “Is this American chaff?” he was disagreeably conscious that + he was not wholly successful in his effort to be lofty. + </p> + <p> + The frankness of Betty's smile was quite without prejudice. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, no,” she said. “It is only the unpicturesque + result of an unfeminine knowledge of the law. And I was thinking how one + is limited—and yet how things are simplified after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Simplified!” disgustedly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, really. You see, if Rosy were violent she could not beat you—even + if she were strong enough—because you could ring the bell and give + her into custody. And you could not beat her because the same unpleasant + thing would happen to you. Policemen do rob things of colour, don't they? + And besides, when one remembers that mere vulgar law insists that no one + can be forced to live with another person who is brutal or loathsome, + that's simple, isn't it? You could go away from Rosy,” with sweet + clearness, “at any moment you wished—as far away as you liked.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to forget,” still feeling that convincing loftiness + was not easy, “that when a man leaves his wife, or she deserts him, + it is she who is likely to be called upon to bear the onus of public + opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “Would she be called upon to bear it under all circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “Damned clever woman as you are, you know that she would, as well as + I know it.” He made an abrupt gesture with his hand. “You know + that what I say is true. Women who take to their heels are deucedly + unpopular in England.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not been long in England, but I have been struck by the + prevalence of a sort of constitutional British sense of fair play among + the people who really count. The Dunholms, for instance, have it markedly. + In America it is the men who force women to take to their heels who are + deucedly unpopular. The Americans' sense of fair play is their most + English quality. It was brought over in ships by the first colonists—like + the pieces of fine solid old furniture, one even now sees, here and there, + in houses in Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + “But the fact remains,” said Nigel, with an unpleasant laugh, + “the fact remains, my dear girl.” + </p> + <p> + “The fact that does remain,” said Betty, not unpleasantly at + all, and still with her gentle air of mere unprejudiced speculation, + “is that, if a man or woman is properly ill-treated—PROPERLY—not + in any amateurish way—they reach the point of not caring in the + least—nothing matters, but that they must get away from the horror + of the unbearable thing —never to see or hear of it again is heaven + enough to make anything else a thing to smile at. But one could settle the + other point by experimenting. Suppose you run away from Rosy, and then we + can see if she is cut by the county.” + </p> + <p> + His laugh was unpleasant again. + </p> + <p> + “So long as you are with her, she will not be cut. There are a + number of penniless young men of family in this, as well as the adjoining, + counties. Do you think Mount Dunstan would cut her?” + </p> + <p> + She looked down at the carpet thoughtfully a moment, and then lifted her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think so,” she answered. “But I will ask him.” + </p> + <p> + He was startled by a sudden feeling that she might be capable of it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come now,” he said, “that goes beyond a joke. You + will not do any such absurd thing. One does not want one's domestic + difficulties discussed by one's neighbours.” + </p> + <p> + Betty opened coolly surprised eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I did not understand it was a personal matter,” she remarked. + “Where do the domestic difficulties come in?” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her a few seconds with the look she did not like, which was + less likeable at the moment, because it combined itself with other things. + </p> + <p> + “Hang it,” he muttered. “I wish I could keep my temper + as you can keep yours,” and he turned on his heel and left the room. + </p> + <p> + Rosy had not spoken. She had sat with her hands in her lap, looking out of + the window. She had at first had a moment of terror. She had, indeed, once + uttered in her soul the abject cry: “Don't make him angry, Betty—oh, + don't, don't!” And suddenly it had been stilled, and she had + listened. This was because she realised that Nigel himself was listening. + That made her see what she had not dared to allow herself to see before. + These trite things were true. There were laws to protect one. If Betty had + not been dealing with mere truths, Nigel would have stopped her. He had + been supercilious, but he could not contradict her. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” she said, when her sister came to her, “you + said that to show ME things, as well as to show them to him. I knew you + did, and listened to every word. It was good for me to hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “Clear-cut, unadorned facts are like bullets,” said Betty. + “They reach home, if one's aim is good. The shiftiest people cannot + evade them.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + A certain thing became evident to Betty during the time which elapsed + between the arrival of the invitations and the great ball. Despite an + obvious intention to assume an amiable pose for the time being, Sir Nigel + could not conceal a not quite unexplainable antipathy to one individual. + This individual was Mount Dunstan, whom it did not seem easy for him to + leave alone. He seemed to recur to him as a subject, without any special + reason, and this somewhat puzzled Betty until she heard from Rosalie of + his intimacy with Lord Tenham, which, in a measure, explained it. The + whole truth was that “The Lout,” as he had been called, had + indulged in frank speech in his rare intercourse with his brother and his + friends, and had once interfered with hot young fury in a matter in which + the pair had specially wished to avoid all interference. His open scorn of + their methods of entertaining themselves they had felt to be disgusting + impudence, which would have been deservedly punished with a horsewhip, if + the youngster had not been a big-muscled, clumsy oaf, with a dangerous + eye. Upon this footing their acquaintance had stood in past years, and to + decide—as Sir Nigel had decided—that the oaf in question had + begun to make his bid for splendid fortune under the roof of Stornham + Court itself was a thing not to be regarded calmly. It was more than he + could stand, and the folly of temper, which was forever his undoing, + betrayed him into mistakes more than once. This girl, with her beauty and + her wealth, he chose to regard as a sort of property rightfully his own. + She was his sister-in-law, at least; she was living under his roof; he had + more or less the power to encourage or discourage such aspirants as + appeared. Upon the whole there was something soothing to one's vanity in + appearing before the world as the person at present responsible for her. + It gave a man a certain dignity of position, and his chief girding at fate + had always risen from the fact that he had not had dignity of position. He + would not be held cheap in this matter, at least. But sometimes, as he + looked at the girl he turned hot and sick, as it was driven home to him + that he was no longer young, that he had never been good-looking, and that + he had cut the ground from under his feet twelve years ago, when he had + married Rosalie! If he could have waited—if he could have done + several other things—perhaps the clever acting of a part, and his + power of domination might have given him a chance. Even that blackguard of + a Mount Dunstan had a better one now. He was young, at least, and free—and + a big strong beast. He was forced, with bitter reluctance, to admit that + he himself was not even particularly strong—of late he had felt it + hideously. + </p> + <p> + So he detested Mount Dunstan the more for increasing reasons, as he + thought the matter over. It would seem, perhaps, but a subtle pleasure to + the normal mind, but to him there was pleasure—support—aggrandisement—in + referring to the ill case of the Mount Dunstan estate, in relating + illustrative anecdotes, in dwelling upon the hopelessness of the outlook, + and the notable unpopularity of the man himself. A confiding young lady + from the States was required, he said on one occasion, but it would be + necessary that she should be a young person of much simplicity, who would + not be alarmed or chilled by the obvious. No one would realise this more + clearly than Mount Dunstan himself. He said it coldly and casually, as if + it were the simplest matter of fact. If the fellow had been making himself + agreeable to Betty, it was as well that certain points should be—as + it were inadvertently—brought before her. + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel was really rather fine, people said to each other + afterwards, when she entered the ballroom at Dunholm Castle with her + brother-in-law. She bore herself as composedly as if she had been escorted + by the most admirable and dignified of conservative relatives, instead of + by a man who was more definitely disliked and disapproved of than any + other man in the county whom decent people were likely to meet. Yet, she + was far too clever a girl not to realise the situation clearly, they said + to each other. She had arrived in England to find her sister a neglected + wreck, her fortune squandered, and her existence stripped bare of even + such things as one felt to be the mere decencies. There was but one thing + to be deduced from the facts which had stared her in the face. But of her + deductions she had said nothing whatever, which was, of course, remarkable + in a young person. It may be mentioned that, perhaps, there had been those + who would not have been reluctant to hear what she must have had to say, + and who had even possibly given her a delicate lead. But the lead had + never been taken. One lady had even remarked that, on her part, she felt + that a too great reserve verged upon secretiveness, which was not a + desirable girlish quality. + </p> + <p> + Of course the situation had been so much discussed that people were + naturally on the lookout for the arrival of the Stornham party, as it was + known that Sir Nigel had returned home, and would be likely to present + himself with his wife and sister-in-law. There was not a dowager present + who did not know how and where he had reprehensibly spent the last months. + It served him quite right that the Spanish dancing person had coolly left + him in the lurch for a younger and more attractive, as well as a richer + man. If it were not for Miss Vanderpoel, one need not pretend that one + knew nothing about the affair—in fact, if it had not been for Miss + Vanderpoel, he would not have received an invitation—and poor Lady + Anstruthers would be sitting at home, still the forlorn little frump and + invalid she had so wonderfully ceased to be since her sister had taken her + in hand. She was absolutely growing even pretty and young, and her clothes + were really beautiful. The whole thing was amazing. + </p> + <p> + Betty, as well as Rosalie and Nigel—knew that many people turned + undisguisedly to look at them—even to watch them as they came into + the splendid ballroom. It was a splendid ballroom and a stately one, and + Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt shared a certain thought when they met her, + which was that hers was distinctly the proud young brilliance of presence + which figured most perfectly against its background. Much as people wanted + to look at Sir Nigel, their eyes were drawn from him to Miss Vanderpoel. + After all it was she who made him an object of interest. One wanted to + know what she would do with him—how she would “carry him off.” + How much did she know of the distaste people felt for him, since she would + not talk or encourage talk? The Dunholms could not have invited her and + her sister, and have ignored him; but did she not guess that they would + have ignored him, if they could? and was there not natural embarrassment + in feeling forced to appear in pomp, as it were, under his escort? + </p> + <p> + But no embarrassment was perceptible. Her manner committed her to no + recognition of a shadow of a flaw in the character of her companion. It + even carried a certain conviction with it, and the lookers-on felt the + impossibility of suggesting any such flaw by their own manner. For this + evening, at least, the man must actually be treated as if he were an + entirely unobjectionable person. It appeared as if that was what the girl + wanted, and intended should happen. + </p> + <p> + This was what Nigel himself had begun to perceive, but he did not put it + pleasantly. Deucedly clever girl as she was, he said to himself, she saw + that it would be more agreeable to have no nonsense talked, and no + ruffling of tempers. He had always been able to convey to people that the + ruffling of his temper was a thing to be avoided, and perhaps she had + already been sharp enough to realise this was a fact to be counted with. + She was sharp enough, he said to himself, to see anything. + </p> + <p> + The function was a superb one. The house was superb, the rooms of + entertainment were in every proportion perfect, and were quite renowned + for the beauty of the space they offered; the people themselves were, + through centuries of dignified living, so placed that intercourse with + their kind was an easy and delightful thing. They need never doubt either + their own effect, or the effect of their hospitalities. Sir Nigel saw + about him all the people who held enviable place in the county. Some of + them he had never known, some of them had long ceased to recall his + existence. There were those among them who lifted lorgnettes or stuck + monocles into their eyes as he passed, asking each other in politely + subdued tones who the man was who seemed to be in attendance on Miss + Vanderpoel. Nigel knew this and girded at it internally, while he made the + most of his suave smile. + </p> + <p> + The distinguished personage who was the chief guest was to be seen at the + upper end of the room talking to a tall man with broad shoulders, who was + plainly interesting him for the moment. As the Stornham party passed on, + this person, making his bow, retired, and, as he turned towards them, Sir + Nigel recognising him, the agreeable smile was for the moment lost. + </p> + <p> + “How in the name of Heaven did Mount Dunstan come here?” broke + from him with involuntary heat. + </p> + <p> + “Would it be rash to conclude,” said Betty, as she returned + the bow of a very grand old lady in black velvet and an imposing tiara, + “that he came in response to invitation?” + </p> + <p> + The very grand old lady seemed pleased to see her, and, with a royal + little sign, called her to her side. As Betty Vanderpoel was a great + success with the Mrs. Weldens and old Dobys of village life, she was also + a success among grand old ladies. When she stood before them there was a + delicate submission in her air which was suggestive of obedience to the + dignity of their years and state. Strongly conservative and rather feudal + old persons were much pleased by this. In the present irreverent + iconoclasm of modern times, it was most agreeable to talk to a handsome + creature who was as beautifully attentive as if she had been a specially + perfect young lady-in-waiting. + </p> + <p> + This one even patted Betty's hand a little, when she took it. She was a + great county potentate, who was known as Lady Alanby of Dole—her + house being one of the most ancient and interesting in England. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you here to-night,” she said. “You are + looking very nice. But you cannot help that.” + </p> + <p> + Betty asked permission to present her sister and brother-in-law. Lady + Alanby was polite to both of them, but she gave Nigel a rather sharp + glance through her gold pince-nez as she greeted him. + </p> + <p> + “Janey and Mary,” she said to the two girls nearest her, + “I daresay you will kindly change your chairs and let Lady + Anstruthers and Miss Vanderpoel sit next to me.” + </p> + <p> + The Ladies Jane and Mary Lithcom, who had been ordered about by her from + their infancy, obeyed with polite smiles. They were not particularly + pretty girls, and were of the indigent noble. Jane, who had almost + overlarge blue eyes, sighed as she reseated herself a few chairs lower + down. + </p> + <p> + “It does seem beastly unfair,” she said in a low voice to her + sister, “that a girl such as that should be so awfully good-looking. + She ought to have a turned-up nose.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mary, “I have a turned-up nose myself, + and I've got nothing to balance it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn't mean a nice turned-up nose like yours,” said + Jane; “I meant an ugly one. Of course Lady Alanby wants her for + Tommy.” And her manner was not resigned. + </p> + <p> + “What she, or anyone else for that matter,” disdainfully, + “could want with Tommy, I don't know,” replied Mary. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” answered Jane obstinately. “I played cricket + with him when I was eight, and I've liked him ever since. It is AWFUL,” + in a smothered outburst, “what girls like us have to suffer.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary turned to look at her curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Jane,” she said, “are you SUFFERING about Tommy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am. Oh, what a question to ask in a ballroom! Do you want me + to burst out crying?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” sharply, “look at the Prince. Stare at that fat + woman curtsying to him. Stare and then wink your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Alanby was talking about Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + “Lord Dunholm has given us a lead. He is an old friend of mine, and + he has been talking to me about it. It appears that he has been looking + into things seriously. Modern as he is, he rather tilts at injustices, in + a quiet way. He has satisfactorily convinced himself that Lord Mount + Dunstan has been suffering for the sins of the fathers—which must be + annoying.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Lord Dunholm quite sure of that?” put in Sir Nigel, with a + suggestively civil air. + </p> + <p> + Old Lady Alanby gave him an unencouraging look. + </p> + <p> + “Quite,” she said. “He would be likely to be before he + took any steps.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” remarked Nigel. “I knew Lord Tenham, you see.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Alanby's look was more unencouraging still. She quietly and openly + put up her glass and stared. There were times when she had not the + remotest objection to being rude to certain people. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to hear that,” she observed. “There never + was any room for mistake about Tenham. He is not usually mentioned.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not think this man would be usually mentioned, if everything + were known,” said Nigel. + </p> + <p> + Then an appalling thing happened. Lady Alanby gazed at him a few seconds, + and made no reply whatever. She dropped her glass, and turned again to + talk to Betty. It was as if she had turned her back on him, and Sir Nigel, + still wearing an amiable exterior, used internally some bad language. + </p> + <p> + “But I was a fool to speak of Tenham,” he thought. “A + great fool.” + </p> + <p> + A little later Miss Vanderpoel made her curtsy to the exalted guest, and + was commented upon again by those who looked on. It was not at all + unnatural that one should find ones eyes following a girl who, + representing a sort of royal power, should have the good fortune of + possessing such looks and bearing. + </p> + <p> + Remembering his child bete noir of the long legs and square, audacious + little face, Nigel Anstruthers found himself restraining a slight grin as + he looked on at her dancing. Partners flocked about her like bees, and + Lady Alanby of Dole, and other very grand old or middle-aged ladies all + found the evening more interesting because they could watch her. + </p> + <p> + “She is full of spirit,” said Lady Alanby, “and she + enjoys herself as a girl should. It is a pleasure to look at her. I like a + girl who gets a magnificent colour and stars in her eyes when she dances. + It looks healthy and young.” + </p> + <p> + It was Tommy Miss Vanderpoel was dancing with when her ladyship said this. + Tommy was her grandson and a young man of greater rank than fortune. He + was a nice, frank, heavy youth, who loved a simple county life spent in + tramping about with guns, and in friendly hobnobbing with the neighbours, + and eating great afternoon teas with people whose jokes were easy to + understand, and who were ready to laugh if you tried a joke yourself. He + liked girls, and especially he liked Jane Lithcom, but that was a weakness + his grandmother did not at all encourage, and, as he danced with Betty + Vanderpoel, he looked over her shoulder more than once at a pair of big, + unhappy blue eyes, whose owner sat against the wall. + </p> + <p> + Betty Vanderpoel herself was not thinking of Tommy. In fact, during this + brilliant evening she faced still further developments of her own strange + case. Certain new things were happening to her. When she had entered the + ballroom she had known at once who the man was who stood before the royal + guest—she had known before he bowed low and withdrew. And her + recognition had brought with it a shock of joy. For a few moments her + throat felt hot and pulsing. It was true—the things which concerned + him concerned her. All that happened to him suddenly became her affair, as + if in some way they were of the same blood. Nigel's slighting of him had + infuriated her; that Lord Dunholm had offered him friendship and + hospitality was a thing which seemed done to herself, and filled her with + gratitude and affection; that he should be at this place, on this special + occasion, swept away dark things from his path. It was as if it were + stated without words that a conservative man of the world, who knew things + as they were, having means of reaching truths, vouched for him and placed + his dignity and firmness at his side. + </p> + <p> + And there was the gladness at the sight of him. It was an overpoweringly + strong thing. She had never known anything like it. She had not seen him + since Nigel's return, and here he was, and she knew that her life + quickened in her because they were together in the same room. He had come + to them and said a few courteous words, but he had soon gone away. At + first she wondered if it was because of Nigel, who at the time was making + himself rather ostentatiously amiable to her. Afterwards she saw him + dancing, talking, being presented to people, being, with a tactful + easiness, taken care of by his host and hostess, and Lord Westholt. She + was struck by the graceful magic with which this tactful ease surrounded + him without any obviousness. The Dunholms had given a lead, as Lady Alanby + had said, and the rest were following it and ignoring intervals with + reposeful readiness. It was wonderfully well done. Apparently there had + been no past at all. All began with this large young man, who, despite his + Viking type, really looked particularly well in evening dress. Lady Alanby + held him by her chair for some time, openly enjoying her talk with him, + and calling up Tommy, that they might make friends. + </p> + <p> + After a while, Betty said to herself, he would come and ask for a dance. + But he did not come, and she danced with one man after another. Westholt + came to her several times and had more dances than one. Why did the other + not come? Several times they whirled past each other, and when it occurred + they looked—both feeling it an accident—into each other's + eyes. + </p> + <p> + The strong and strange thing—that which moves on its way as do birth + and death, and the rising and setting of the sun—had begun to move + in them. It was no new and rare thing, but an ancient and common one—as + common and ancient as death and birth themselves; and part of the law as + they are. As it comes to royal persons to whom one makes obeisance at + their mere passing by, as it comes to scullery maids in royal kitchens, + and grooms in royal stables, as it comes to ladies-in-waiting and the + women who serve them, so it had come to these two who had been drawn near + to each other from the opposite sides of the earth, and each started at + the touch of it, and withdrew a pace in bewilderment, and some fear. + </p> + <p> + “I wish,” Mount Dunstan was feeling throughout the evening, + “that her eyes had some fault in their expression—that they + drew one less—that they drew ME less. I am losing my head.” + </p> + <p> + “It would be better,” Betty thought, “if I did not wish + so much that he would come and ask me to dance with him—that he + would not keep away so. He is keeping away for a reason. Why is he doing + it?” + </p> + <p> + The music swung on in lovely measures, and the dancers swung with it. Sir + Nigel walked dutifully through the Lancers once with his wife, and once + with his beautiful sister-in-law. Lady Anstruthers, in her new bloom, had + not lacked partners, who discovered that she was a childishly light + creature who danced extremely well. Everyone was kind to her, and the very + grand old ladies, who admired Betty, were absolutely benign in their + manner. Betty's partners paid ingenuous court to her, and Sir Nigel found + he had not been mistaken in his estimate of the dignity his position of + escort and male relation gave to him. + </p> + <p> + Rosy, standing for a moment looking out on the brilliancy and state about + her, meeting Betty's eyes, laughed quiveringly. + </p> + <p> + “I am in a dream,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You have awakened from a dream,” Betty answered. + </p> + <p> + From the opposite side of the room someone was coming towards them, and, + seeing him, Rosy smiled in welcome. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure Lord Mount Dunstan is coming to ask you to dance with + him,” she said. “Why have you not danced with him before, + Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “He has not asked me,” Betty answered. “That is the only + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt called at the Mount a few days after + they met him at Stornham,” Rosalie explained in an undertone. + “They wanted to know him. Then it seems they found they liked each + other. Lady Dunholm has been telling me about it. She says Lord Dunholm + thanks you, because you said something illuminating. That was the word she + used—'illuminating.' I believe you are always illuminating, Betty.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan was certainly coming to them. How broad his shoulders looked + in his close-fitting black coat, how well built his whole strong body was, + and how steadily he held his eyes! Here and there one sees a man or woman + who is, through some trick of fate, by nature a compelling thing + unconsciously demanding that one should submit to some domineering + attraction. One does not call it domineering, but it is so. This special + creature is charged unfairly with more than his or her single share of + force. Betty Vanderpoel thought this out as this “other one” + came to her. He did not use the ballroom formula when he spoke to her. He + said in rather a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Will you dance with me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + Lord Dunholm and his wife agreed afterwards that so noticeable a pair had + never before danced together in their ballroom. Certainly no pair had ever + been watched with quite the same interested curiosity. Some onlookers + thought it singular that they should dance together at all, some pleased + themselves by reflecting on the fact that no other two could have + represented with such picturesqueness the opposite poles of fate and + circumstance. No one attempted to deny that they were an extraordinarily + striking-looking couple, and that one's eyes followed them in spite of + one's self. + </p> + <p> + “Taken together they produce an effect that is somehow rather + amazing,” old Lady Alanby commented. “He is a magnificently + built man, you know, and she is a magnificently built girl. Everybody + should look like that. My impression would be that Adam and Eve did, but + for the fact that neither of them had any particular character. That + affair of the apple was so silly. Eve has always struck me as being the + kind of woman who, if she lived to-day, would run up stupid bills at her + dressmakers and be afraid to tell her husband. That wonderful black head + of Miss Vanderpoel's looks very nice poised near Mount Dunstan's dark red + one.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to be dancing with him,” Betty was thinking. + “I am glad to be near him.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you dance this with me to the very end,” asked Mount + Dunstan—“to the very late note?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Betty. + </p> + <p> + He had spoken in a low but level voice—the kind of voice whose tone + places a man and woman alone together, and wholly apart from all others by + whomsoever they are surrounded. There had been no preliminary speech and + no explanation of the request followed. The music was a perfect thing, the + brilliant, lofty ballroom, the beauty of colour and sound about them, the + jewels and fair faces, the warm breath of flowers in the air, the very + sense of royal presence and its accompanying state and ceremony, seemed + merely a naturally arranged background for the strange consciousness each + held close and silently—knowing nothing of the mind of the other. + </p> + <p> + This was what was passing through the man's mind. + </p> + <p> + “This is the thing which most men experience several times during + their lives. It would be reason enough for all the great deeds and all the + crimes one hears of. It is an enormous kind of anguish and a fearful kind + of joy. It is scarcely to be borne, and yet, at this moment, I could kill + myself and her, at the thought of losing it. If I had begun earlier, would + it have been easier? No, it would not. With me it is bound to go hard. At + twenty I should probably not have been able to keep myself from shouting + it aloud, and I should not have known that it was only the working of the + Law. 'Only!' Good God, what a fool I am! It is because it is only the Law + that I cannot escape, and must go on to the end, grinding my teeth + together because I cannot speak. Oh, her smooth young cheek! Oh, the deep + shadows of her lashes! And while we sway round and round together, I hold + her slim strong body in the hollow of my arm.” + </p> + <p> + It was, quite possibly, as he thought this that Nigel Anstruthers, + following him with his eyes as he passed, began to frown. He had been + watching the pair as others had, he had seen what others saw, and now he + had an idea that he saw something more, and it was something which did not + please him. The instinct of the male bestirred itself—the curious + instinct of resentment against another man—any other man. And, in + this case, Mount Dunstan was not any other man, but one for whom his + antipathy was personal. + </p> + <p> + “I won't have that,” he said to himself. “I won't have + it.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + The music rose and swelled, and then sank into soft breathing, as they + moved in harmony together, gliding and swirling as they threaded their way + among other couples who swirled and glided also, some of them light and + smiling, some exchanging low-toned speech—perhaps saying words + which, unheard by others, touched on deep things. The exalted guest fell + into momentary silence as he looked on, being a man much attracted by + physical fineness and temperamental power and charm. A girl like that + would bring a great deal to a man and to the country he belonged to. A + great race might be founded on such superbness of physique and health and + beauty. Combined with abnormal resources, certainly no more could be + asked. He expressed something of the kind to Lord Dunholm, who stood near + him in attendance. + </p> + <p> + To herself Betty was saying: “That was a strange thing he asked me. + It is curious that we say so little. I should never know much about him. I + have no intelligence where he is concerned—only a strong, stupid + feeling, which is not like a feeling of my own. I am no longer Betty + Vanderpoel—and I wish to go on dancing with him—on and on—to + the last note, as he said.” + </p> + <p> + She felt a little hot wave run over her cheek uncomfortably, and the next + instant the big arm tightened its clasp of her—for just one second—not + more than one. She did not know that he, himself, had seen the sudden + ripple of red colour, and that the equally sudden contraction of the arm + had been as unexpected to him and as involuntary as the quick wave itself. + It had horrified and made him angry. He looked the next instant entirely + stiff and cold. + </p> + <p> + “He did not know it happened,” Betty resolved. + </p> + <p> + “The music is going to stop,” said Mount Dunstan. “I + know the waltz. We can get once round the room again before the final + chord. It was to be the last note—the very last,” but he said + it quite rigidly, and Betty laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Quite the last,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + The music hastened a little, and their gliding whirl became more rapid—a + little faster—a little faster still—a running sweep of notes, + a big, terminating harmony, and the thing was over. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mount Dunstan. “One will have it to + remember.” And his tone was slightly sardonic. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Betty acquiesced politely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not you. Only I. I have never waltzed before.” + </p> + <p> + Betty turned to look at him curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Under circumstances such as these,” he explained. “I + learned to dance at a particularly hideous boys' school in France. I + abhorred it. And the trend of my life has made it quite easy for me to + keep my twelve-year-old vow that I would never dance after I left the + place, unless I WANTED to do it, and that, especially, nothing should make + me waltz until certain agreeable conditions were fulfilled. Waltzing I + approved of—out of hideous schools. I was a pig-headed, + objectionable child. I detested myself even, then.” + </p> + <p> + Betty's composure returned to her. + </p> + <p> + “I am trusting,” she remarked, “that I may secretly + regard myself as one of the agreeable conditions to be fulfilled. Do not + dispel my hopes roughly.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not,” he answered. “You are, in fact, several of + them.” + </p> + <p> + “One breathes with much greater freedom,” she responded. + </p> + <p> + This sort of cool nonsense was safe. It dispelled feelings of tenseness, + and carried them to the place where Sir Nigel and Lady Anstruthers awaited + them. A slight stir was beginning to be felt throughout the ballroom. The + royal guest was retiring, and soon the rest began to melt away. The + Anstruthers, who had a long return drive before them, were among those who + went first. + </p> + <p> + When Lady Anstruthers and her sister returned from the cloak room, they + found Sir Nigel standing near Mount Dunstan, who was going also, and + talking to him in an amiably detached manner. Mount Dunstan, himself, did + not look amiable, or seem to be saying much, but Sir Nigel showed no signs + of being disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “Now that you have ceased to forswear the world,” he said as + his wife approached, “I hope we shall see you at Stornham. Your + visits must not cease because we cannot offer you G. Selden any longer.” + </p> + <p> + He had his own reasons for giving the invitation—several of them. + And there was a satisfaction in letting the fellow know, casually, that he + was not in the ridiculous position of being unaware of what had occurred + during his absence—that there had been visits—and also the + objectionable episode of the American bounder. That the episode had been + objectionable, he knew he had adroitly conveyed by mere tone and manner. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan thanked him in the usual formula, and then spoke to Betty. + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden left us tremulous and fevered with ecstatic anticipation. + He carried your kind letter to Mr. Vanderpoel, next to his heart. His + brain seemed to whirl at the thought of what 'the boys' would say, when he + arrived with it in New York. You have materialised the dream of his life!” + </p> + <p> + “I have interested my father,” Betty answered, with a + brilliant smile. “He liked the romance of the Reuben S. Vanderpoel + who rewarded the saver of his life by unbounded orders for the Delkoff.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + As their carriage drove away, Sir Nigel bent forward to look out of the + window, and having done it, laughed a little. + </p> + <p> + “Mount Dunstan does not play the game well,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + It was annoying that neither Betty nor his wife inquired what the game in + question might be, and that his temperament forced him into explaining + without encouragement. + </p> + <p> + “He should have 'stood motionless with folded arms,' or something of + the sort, and 'watched her equipage until it was out of sight.'” + </p> + <p> + “And he did not?” said Betty + </p> + <p> + “He turned on his heel as soon as the door was shut.” + </p> + <p> + “People ought not to do such things,” was her simple comment. + To which it seemed useless to reply. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII + </h2> + <h3> + FOR LADY JANE + </h3> + <p> + There is no one thing on earth of such interest as the study of the laws + of temperament, which impel, support, or entrap into folly and danger the + being they rule. As a child, not old enough to give a definite name to the + thing she watched and pondered on, in child fashion, Bettina Vanderpoel + had thought much on this subject. As she had grown older, she had never + been ignorant of the workings of her own temperament, and she had looked + on for years at the laws which had wrought in her father's being—the + laws of strength, executive capacity, and that pleasure in great schemes, + which is roused less by a desire for gain than for a strongly-felt + necessity for action, resulting in success. She mentally followed other + people on their way, sometimes asking herself how far the individual was + to be praised or blamed for his treading of the path he seemed to choose. + And now there was given her the opportunity to study the workings of the + nature of Nigel Anstruthers, which was a curious thing. + </p> + <p> + He was not an individual to be envied. Never was man more tormented by + lack of power to control his special devil, at the right moment of time, + and therefore, never was there one so inevitably his own frustration. This + Betty saw after the passing of but a few days, and wondered how far he was + conscious or unconscious of the thing. At times it appeared to her that he + was in a state of unrest—that he was as a man wavering between lines + of action, swayed at one moment by one thought, at another by an idea + quite different, and that he was harried because he could not hold his own + with himself. + </p> + <p> + This was true. The ball at Dunholm Castle had been enlightening, and had + wrought some changes in his points of view. Also other factors had + influenced him. In the first place, the changed atmosphere of Stornham, + the fitness and luxury of his surroundings, the new dignity given to his + position by the altered aspect of things, rendered external amiability + more easy. To ride about the country on a good horse, or drive in a smart + phaeton, or suitable carriage, and to find that people who a year ago had + passed him with the merest recognition, saluted him with polite intention, + was, to a certain degree, stimulating to a vanity which had been long + ill-fed. The power which produced these results should, of course, have + been in his own hands—his money-making father-in-law should have + seen that it was his affair to provide for that—but since he had not + done so, it was rather entertaining that it should be, for the present, in + the hands of this extraordinarily good-looking girl. + </p> + <p> + He had begun by merely thinking of her in this manner—as “this + extraordinarily good-looking girl,” and had not, for a moment, + hesitated before the edifying idea of its not being impossible to arrange + a lively flirtation with her. She was at an age when, in his opinion, + girlhood was poised for flight with adventure, and his tastes had not led + him in the direction of youth which was fastidious. His Riviera episode + had left his vanity blistered and requiring some soothing application. His + life had worked evil with him, and he had fallen ill on the hands of a + woman who had treated him as a shattered, useless thing whose day was done + and with whom strength and bloom could not be burdened. He had kept his + illness a hidden secret, on his return to Stornham, his one desire having + been to forget—even to disbelieve in it, but dreams of its + suggestion sometimes awakened him at night with shudders and cold sweat. + He was hideously afraid of death and pain, and he had had monstrous pain—and + while he had lain battling with it, upon his bed in the villa on the + Mediterranean, he had been able to hear, in the garden outside, the low + voices and laughter of the Spanish dancer and the healthy, strong young + fool who was her new adorer. + </p> + <p> + When he had found himself face to face with Betty in the avenue, after the + first leap of annoyance, which had suddenly died down into perversely + interested curiosity, he could have laughed outright at the novelty and + odd unexpectedness of the situation. The ill-mannered, impudently-staring, + little New York beast had developed into THIS! Hang it! No man could guess + what the embryo female creature might result in. His mere shakiness of + physical condition added strength to her attraction. She was like a young + goddess of health and life and fire; the very spring of her firm foot upon + the moss beneath it was a stimulating thing to a man whose nerves sprung + secret fears upon him. There were sparks between the sweep of her lashes, + but she managed to carry herself with the air of being as cool as a + cucumber, which gave spice to the effort to “upset” her. If + she did not prove suitably amenable, there would be piquancy in getting + the better of her—in stirring up unpleasant little things, which + would make it easier for her to go away than remain on the spot—if + one should end by choosing to get rid of her. But, for the moment, he had + no desire to get rid of her. He wanted to see what she intended to do—to + see the thing out, in fact. It amused him to hear that Mount Dunstan was + on her track. There exists for persons of a certain type a pleasure + full-fed by the mere sense of having “got even” with an + opponent. Throughout his life he had made a point of “getting even” + with those who had irritatingly crossed his path, or much disliked him. + The working out of small or large plans to achieve this end had formed one + of his most agreeable recreations. He had long owed Mount Dunstan a debt, + which he had always meant to pay. He had not intended to forget the + episode of the nice little village girl with whom Tenham and himself had + been getting along so enormously well, when the raging young ass had found + them out, and made an absurdly exaggerated scene, even going so far as + threatening to smash the pair of them, marching off to the father and + mother, and setting the vicar on, and then scratching together—God + knows how—money enough to pack the lot off to America, where they + had since done well. Why should a man forgive another who had made him + look like a schoolboy and a fool? So, to find Mount Dunstan rushing down a + steep hill into this thing, was edifying. You cannot take much out of a + man if you never encounter him. If you meet him, you are provided by + Heaven with opportunities. You can find out what he feels most sharply, + and what he will suffer most by being deprived of. His impression was that + there was a good deal to be got out of Mount Dunstan. He was an obstinate, + haughty devil, and just the fellow to conceal with a fury of pride a score + of tender places in his hide. + </p> + <p> + At the ball he had seen that the girl's effect had been of a kind which + even money and good looks uncombined with another thing might not have + produced. And she had the other thing—whatsoever it might be. He + observed the way in which the Dunholms met and greeted her, he marked the + glance of the royal personage, and his manner, when after her presentation + he conversed with and detained her, he saw the turning of heads and + exchange of remarks as she moved through the rooms. Most especially, he + took in the bearing of the very grand old ladies, led by Lady Alanby of + Dole. Barriers had thrown themselves down, these portentous, rigorous old + pussycats admired her, even liked her. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word,” he said to himself. “She has a way with + her, you know. She is a combination of Ethel Newcome and Becky Sharp. But + she is more level-headed than either of them, There's a touch of Trix + Esmond, too.” + </p> + <p> + The sense of the success which followed her, and the gradually-growing + excitement of looking on at her light whirls of dance, the carnation of + her cheek, and the laughter and pleasure she drew about her, had affected + him in a way by which he was secretly a little exhilarated. He was + conscious of a rash desire to force his way through these laughing, + vaunting young idiots, juggle or snatch their dances away from them, and + seize on the girl himself. He had not for so long a time been impelled by + such agreeable folly that he had sometimes felt the stab of the thought + that he was past it. That it should rise in him again made him feel young. + There was nothing which so irritated him against Mount Dunstan as his own + rebelling recognition of the man's youth, the strength of his fine body, + his high-held head and clear eye. + </p> + <p> + These things and others it was which swayed him, as was plain to Betty in + the time which followed, to many changes of mood. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sorry for a man who is ill and depressed,” he asked + one day, “or do you despise him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Then be sorry for me.” + </p> + <p> + He had come out of the house to her as she sat on the lawn, under a broad, + level-branched tree, and had thrown himself upon a rug with his hands + clasped behind his head. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + “When I was on the Riviera I had a fall.” He lied simply. + “I strained some muscle or other, and it has left me rather lame. + Sometimes I have a good deal of pain.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” said Betty. “Very.” + </p> + <p> + A woman who can be made sorry it is rarely impossible to manage. To dwell + with pathetic patience on your grievances, if she is weak and + unintelligent, to deplore, with honest regret, your faults and blunders, + if she is strong, are not bad ideas. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are capable of being sorry,” he decided. For a few + moments of silence his eyes rested upon the view spread before him. To + give the expression of dignified reflection was not a bad idea either. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said at length, “that you produce an + extraordinary effect upon me, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + She was occupying herself by adding a few stitches to one of Rosy's + ancient strips of embroidery, and as she answered, she laid it flat upon + her knee to consider its effect. + </p> + <p> + “Good or bad?” she inquired, with delicate abstraction. + </p> + <p> + He turned his face towards her again—this time quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Both,” he answered. “Both.” + </p> + <p> + His tone held the flash of a heat which he felt should have startled her + slightly. But apparently it did not. + </p> + <p> + “I do not like 'both,'” with composed lightness. “If you + had said that you felt yourself develop angelic qualities when you were + near me, I should feel flattered, and swell with pride. But 'both' leaves + me unsatisfied. It interferes with the happy little conceit that one is an + all-pervading, beneficent power. One likes to contemplate a large picture + of one's self—not plain, but coloured—as a wholesale reformer.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Thank you,” stiffly and flushing. “You do not + believe me.” + </p> + <p> + Her effect upon him was such that, for the moment, he found himself + choosing to believe that he was in earnest. His desire to impress her with + his mood had actually led to this result. She ought to have been rather + moved—a little fluttered, perhaps, at hearing that she disturbed his + equilibrium. + </p> + <p> + “You set yourself against me, as a child, Betty,” he said. + “And you set yourself against me now. You will not give me fair + play. You might give me fair play.” He dropped his voice at the last + sentence, and knew it was well done. A touch of hopelessness is not often + lost on a woman. + </p> + <p> + “What would you consider fair play?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “It would be fair to listen to me without prejudice—to let me + explain how it has happened that I have appeared to you a—a + blackguard—I have no doubt you would call it—and a fool.” + He threw out his hand in an impatient gesture—impatient of himself—his + fate—the tricks of bad fortune which it implied had made of him a + more erring mortal than he would have been if left to himself, and treated + decently. + </p> + <p> + “Do not put it so strongly,” with conservative politeness. + </p> + <p> + “I don't refuse to admit that I am handicapped by a devil of a + temperament. That is an inherited thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Betty. “One of the temperaments one reads + about—for which no one is to be blamed but one's deceased relatives. + After all, that is comparatively easy to deal with. One can just go on + doing what one wants to do—and then condemn one's grandparents + severely.” + </p> + <p> + A repellent quality in her—which had also the trick of transforming + itself into an exasperating attraction—was that she deprived him of + the luxury he had been most tenacious of throughout his existence. If the + injustice of fate has failed to bestow upon a man fortune, good looks or + brilliance, his exercise of the power to disturb, to enrage those who dare + not resent, to wound and take the nonsense out of those about him, will, + at all events, preclude the possibility of his being passed over as a + factor not to be considered. If to charm and bestow gives the sense of + power, to thwart and humiliate may be found not wholly unsatisfying. + </p> + <p> + But in her case the inadequacy of the usual methods had forced itself upon + him. It was as if the dart being aimed at her, she caught it in her hand + in its flight, broke off its point and threw it lightly aside without + comment. Most women cannot resist the temptation to answer a speech + containing a sting or a reproach. It was part of her abnormality that she + could let such things go by in a detached silence, which did not express + even the germ of comment or opinion upon them. This, he said, was the + result of her beastly sense of security, which, in its turn, was the + result of the atmosphere of wealth she had breathed since her birth. There + had been no obstacle which could not be removed for her, no law of + limitation had laid its rein on her neck. She had not been taught by her + existence the importance of propitiating opinion. Under such conditions, + how was fear to be learned? She had not learned it. But for the devil in + the blue between her lashes, he realised that he should have broken loose + long ago. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I deserved that for making a stupid appeal to sympathy,” + he remarked. “I will not do it again.” + </p> + <p> + If she had been the woman who can be gently goaded into reply, she would + have made answer to this. But she allowed the observation to pass, giving + it free flight into space, where it lost itself after the annoying manner + of its kind. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any objection to telling me why you decided to come to + England this year?” he inquired, with a casual air, after the pause + which she did not fill in. + </p> + <p> + The bluntness of the question did not seem to disturb her. She was not + sorry, in fact, that he had asked it. She let her work lie upon her knee, + and leaned back in her low garden chair, her hands resting upon its wicker + arms. She turned on him a clear unprejudiced gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I came to see Rosy. I have always been very fond of her. I did not + believe that she had forgotten how much we had loved her, or how much she + had loved us. I knew that if I could see her again I should understand why + she had seemed to forget us.” + </p> + <p> + “And when you saw her, you, of course, decided that I had behaved, + to quote my own words—like a blackguard and a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “It is, of course, very rude to say you have behaved like a fool, + but—if you'll excuse my saying so—that is what has impressed + me very much. Don't you know,” with a moderation, which singularly + drove itself home, “that if you had been kind to her, and had made + her happy, you could have had anything you wished for—without + trouble?” + </p> + <p> + This was one of the unadorned facts which are like bullets. Disgustedly, + he found himself veering towards an outlook which forced him to admit that + there was probably truth in what she said, and he knew he heard more truth + as she went on. + </p> + <p> + “She would have wanted only what you wanted, and she would not have + asked much in return. She would not have asked as much as I should. What + you did was not businesslike.” She paused a moment to give thought + to it. “You paid too high a price for the luxury of indulging the + inherited temperament. Your luxury was not to control it. But it was a bad + investment.” + </p> + <p> + “The figure of speech is rather commercial,” coldly. + </p> + <p> + “It is curious that most things are, as a rule. There is always the + parallel of profit and loss whether one sees it or not. The profits are + happiness and friendship—enjoyment of life and approbation. If the + inherited temperament supplies one with all one wants of such things, it + cannot be called a loss, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “You think, however, that mine has not brought me much?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know. It is you who know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” viciously, “there HAS been a sort of luxury in + it in lashing out with one's heels, and smashing things—and in + knowing that people prefer to keep clear.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her shoulders a little. + </p> + <p> + “Then perhaps it has paid.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” suddenly and fiercely, “damn it, it has not!” + </p> + <p> + And she actually made no reply to that. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean to do?” he questioned as bluntly as before. + He knew she would understand what he meant. + </p> + <p> + “Not much. To see that Rosy is not unhappy any more. We can prevent + that. She was out of repair—as the house was. She is being rebuilt + and decorated. She knows that she will be taken care of.” + </p> + <p> + “I know her better than you do,” with a laugh. “She will + not go away. She is too frightened of the row it would make—of what + I should say. I should have plenty to say. I can make her shake in her + shoes.” + </p> + <p> + Betty let her eyes rest full upon him, and he saw that she was softly + summing him up—quite without prejudice, merely in interested + speculation upon the workings of type. + </p> + <p> + “You are letting the inherited temperament run away with you at this + moment,” she reflected aloud—her quiet scrutiny almost + abstracted. “It was foolish to say that.” + </p> + <p> + He had known it was foolish two seconds after the words had left his lips. + But a temper which has been allowed to leap hedges, unchecked throughout + life, is in peril of forming a habit of taking them even at such times as + a leap may land its owner in a ditch. This last was what her interested + eyes were obviously saying. It suited him best at the moment to try to + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Don't look at me like that,” he threw off. “As if you + were calculating that two and two make four.” + </p> + <p> + “No prejudice of mine can induce them to make five or six—or + three and a half,” she said. “No prejudice of mine—or of + yours.” + </p> + <p> + The two and two she was calculating with were the likelihoods and + unlikelihoods of the inherited temperament, and the practical powers she + could absolutely count on if difficulty arose with regard to Rosy. + </p> + <p> + He guessed at this, and began to make calculations himself. + </p> + <p> + But there was no further conversation for them, as they were obliged to + rise to their feet to receive visitors. Lady Alanby of Dole and Sir + Thomas, her grandson, were being brought out of the house to them by + Rosalie. + </p> + <p> + He went forward to meet them—his manner that of the graceful host. + Lady Alanby, having been welcomed by him, and led to the most comfortable, + tree-shaded chair, found his bearing so elegantly chastened that she gazed + at him with private curiosity. To her far-seeing and highly experienced + old mind it seemed the bearing of a man who was “up to something.” + What special thing did he chance to be “up to”? His glance + certainly lurked after Miss Vanderpoel oddly. Was he falling in unholy + love with the girl, under his stupid little wife's very nose? + </p> + <p> + She could not, however, give her undivided attention to him, as she wished + to keep her eye on her grandson and—outrageously enough it happened + that just as tea was brought out and Tommy was beginning to cheer up and + quite come out a little under the spur of the activities of handing bread + and butter and cress sandwiches, who should appear but the two Lithcom + girls, escorted by their aunt, Mrs. Manners, with whom they lived. As they + were orphans without money, if the Manners, who were rather well off, had + not taken them in, they would have had to go to the workhouse, or into + genteel amateur shops, as they were not clever enough for governesses. + </p> + <p> + Mary, with her turned-up nose, looked just about as usual, but Jane had a + new frock on which was exactly the colour of the big, appealing eyes, with + their trick of following people about. She looked a little pale and + pathetic, which somehow gave her a specious air of being pretty, which she + really was not at all. The swaying young thinness of those very slight + girls whose soft summer muslins make them look like delicate bags tied in + the middle with fluttering ribbons, has almost invariably a foolish + attraction for burly young men whose characters are chiefly marked by lack + of forethought, and Lady Alanby saw Tommy's robust young body give a sort + of jerk as the party of three was brought across the grass. After it he + pulled himself together hastily, and looked stiff and pink, shaking hands + as if his elbow joint was out of order, being at once too loose and too + rigid. He began to be clumsy with the bread and butter, and, ceasing his + talk with Miss Vanderpoel, fell into silence. Why should he go on talking? + he thought. Miss Vanderpoel was a cracking handsome girl, but she was too + clever for him, and he had to think of all sorts of new things to say when + he talked to her. And—well, a fellow could never imagine himself + stretched out on the grass, puffing happily away at a pipe, with a girl + like that sitting near him, smiling—the hot turf smelling almost + like hay, the hot blue sky curving overhead, and both the girl and himself + perfectly happy—chock full of joy—though neither of them were + saying anything at all. You could imagine it with some girls—you DID + imagine it when you wakened early on a summer morning, and lay in + luxurious stillness listening to the birds singing like mad. + </p> + <p> + Lady Jane was a nicely-behaved girl, and she tried to keep her following + blue eyes fixed on the grass, or on Lady Anstruthers, or Miss Vanderpoel, + but there was something like a string, which sometimes pulled them in + another direction, and once when this had happened—quite against her + will—she was terrified to find Lady Alanby's glass lifted and fixed + upon her. + </p> + <p> + As Lady Alanby's opinion of Mrs. Manners was but a poor one, and as Mrs. + Manners was stricken dumb by her combined dislike and awe of Lady Alanby, + a slight stiffness might have settled upon the gathering if Betty had not + made an effort. She applied herself to Lady Alanby and Mrs. Manners at + once, and ended by making them talk to each other. When they left the tea + table under the trees to look at the gardens, she walked between them, + playing upon the primeval horticultural passions which dominate the + existence of all respectable and normal country ladies, until the gulf + between them was temporarily bridged. This being achieved, she adroitly + passed them over to Lady Anstruthers, who, Nigel observed with some + curiosity, accepted the casual responsibility without manifest + discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + To the aching Tommy the manner in which, a few minutes later, he found + himself standing alone with Jane Lithcom in a path of clipped laurels was + almost bewilderingly simple. At the end of the laurel walk was a pretty + peep of the country, and Miss Vanderpoel had brought him to see it. Nigel + Anstruthers had been loitering behind with Jane and Mary. As Miss + Vanderpoel turned with him into the path, she stooped and picked a blossom + from a clump of speedwell growing at the foot of a bit of wall. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Jane's eyes are just the colour of this flower,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are,” he answered, glancing down at the lovely + little blue thing as she held it in her hand. And then, with a thump of + the heart, “Most people do not think she is pretty, but I—” + quite desperately—“I DO.” His mood had become rash. + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” Betty Vanderpoel answered. + </p> + <p> + Then the others joined them, and Miss Vanderpoel paused to talk a little—and + when they went on she was with Mary and Nigel Anstruthers, and he was with + Jane, walking slowly, and somehow the others melted away, turning in a + perfectly natural manner into a side path. Their own slow pace became + slower. In fact, in a few moments, they were standing quite still between + the green walls. Jane turned a little aside, and picked off some small + leaves, nervously. He saw the muslin on her chest lift quiveringly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, little Jane!” he said in a big, shaky whisper. The + following eyes incontinently brimmed over. Some shining drops fell on the + softness of the blue muslin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Tommy,” giving up, “it's no use—talking at + all.” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't think—you mustn't think—ANYTHING,” he + falteringly commanded, drawing nearer, because it was impossible not to do + it. + </p> + <p> + What he really meant, though he did not know how decorously to say it, was + that she must not think that he could be moved by any tall beauty, towards + the splendour of whose possessions his revered grandmother might be + driving him. + </p> + <p> + “I am not thinking anything,” cried Jane in answer. “But + she is everything, and I am nothing. Just look at her—and then look + at me, Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll look at you as long as you'll let me,” gulped Tommy, and + he was boy enough and man enough to put a hand on each of her shoulders, + and drown his longing in her brimming eyes. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Mary and Miss Vanderpoel were talking with a curious intimacy, in another + part of the garden, where they were together alone, Sir Nigel having been + reattached to Lady Alanby. + </p> + <p> + “You have known Sir Thomas a long time?” Betty had just said. + </p> + <p> + “Since we were children. Jane reminded me at the Dunholms' ball that + she had played cricket with him when she was eight.” + </p> + <p> + “They have always liked each other?” Miss Vanderpoel + suggested. + </p> + <p> + Mary looked up at her, and the meeting of their eyes was frank to + revelation. But for the clear girlish liking for herself she saw in Betty + Vanderpoel's, Mary would have known her next speech to be of imbecile + bluntness. She had heard that Americans often had a queer, delightful + understanding of unconventional things. This splendid girl was + understanding her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! You SEE!” she broke out. “You left them together on + purpose!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did.” And there was a comprehension so deep in her + look that Mary knew it was deeper than her own, and somehow founded on + some subtler feeling than her own. “When two people want so much—care + so much to be together,” Miss Vanderpoel added quite slowly—even + as if the words rather forced themselves from her, “it seems as if + the whole world ought to help them—everything in the world—the + very wind, and rain, and sun, and stars—oh, things have no RIGHT to + keep them apart.” + </p> + <p> + Mary stared at her, moved and fascinated. She scarcely knew that she + caught at her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I have never been in the state that Jane is,” she poured + forth. “And I can't understand how she can be such a fool, but—but + we care about each other more than most girls do—perhaps because we + have had no people. And it's the kind of thing there is no use talking + against, it seems. It's killing the youngness in her. If it ends + miserably, it will be as if she had had an illness, and got up from it a + faded, done-for spinster with a stretch of hideous years to live. Her blue + eyes will look like boiled gooseberries, because she will have cried all + the colour out of them. Oh! You UNDERSTAND! I see you do.” + </p> + <p> + Before she had finished both Miss Vanderpoel's hands were holding hers. + </p> + <p> + “I do! I do,” she said. And she did, as a year ago she had not + known she could. “Is it Lady Alanby?” she ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Tommy will be helplessly poor if she does not leave him her + money. And she won't if he makes her angry. She is very determined. She + will leave it to an awful cousin if she gets in a rage. And Tommy is not + clever. He could never earn his living. Neither could Jane. They could + NEVER marry. You CAN'T defy relatives, and marry on nothing, unless you + are a character in a book.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she liked Lady Jane in the past?” Miss Vanderpoel asked, + as if she was, mentally, rapidly going over the ground, that she might + quite comprehend everything. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She used to make rather a pet of her. She didn't like me. She + was taken by Jane's meek, attentive, obedient ways. Jane was born a sweet + little affectionate worm. Lady Alanby can't hate her, even now. She just + pushes her out of her path.” + </p> + <p> + “Because?” said Betty Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + Mary prefaced her answer with a brief, half-embarrassed laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Because of YOU.” + </p> + <p> + “Because she thinks——?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how she can believe he has much of a chance. I don't + think she does—but she will never forgive him if he doesn't make a + try at finding out whether he has one or not.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very businesslike,” Betty made observation. + </p> + <p> + Mary laughed. + </p> + <p> + “We talk of American business outlook,” she said, “but + very few of us English people are dreamy idealists. We are of a coolness + and a daring—when we are dealing with questions of this sort. I + don't think you can know the thing you have brought here. You descend on a + dull country place, with your money and your looks, and you simply STAY + and amuse yourself by doing extraordinary things, as if there was no + London waiting for you. Everyone knows this won't last. Next season you + will be presented, and have a huge success. You will be whirled about in a + vortex, and people will sit on the edge, and cast big strong lines, baited + with the most glittering things they can get together. You won't be able + to get away. Lady Alanby knows there would be no chance for Tommy then. It + would be too idiotic to expect it. He must make his try now.” + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met again, and Miss Vanderpoel looked neither shocked nor + angry, but an odd small shadow swept across her face. Mary, of course, did + not know that she was thinking of the thing she had realised so often—that + it was not easy to detach one's self from the fact that one was Reuben S. + Vanderpoel's daughter. As a result of it here one was indecently and + unwillingly disturbing the lives of innocent, unassuming lovers. + </p> + <p> + “And so long as Sir Thomas has not tried—and found out—Lady + Jane will be made unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “If he were to let you escape without trying, he would not be + forgiven. His grandmother has had her own way all her life.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose after I went away someone else came?” + </p> + <p> + Mary shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “People like you don't HAPPEN in one neighbourhood twice in a + lifetime. I am twenty-six and you are the first I have seen.” + </p> + <p> + “And he will only be safe if?” + </p> + <p> + Mary Lithcom nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—IF,” she answered. “It's silly—and + frightful—but it is true.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel looked down on the grass a few moments, and then seemed to + arrive at a decision. + </p> + <p> + “He likes you? You can make him understand things?” she + inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then go and tell him that if he will come here and ask me a direct + question, I will give him a direct answer—which will satisfy Lady + Alanby.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary caught her breath. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, you are the most wonderful girl I ever saw!” she + exclaimed. “But if you only knew what I feel about Janie!” And + tears rushed into her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I feel just the same thing about my sister,” said Miss + Vanderpoel. “I think Rosy and Lady Jane are rather alike.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + When Tommy tramped across the grass towards her he was turning red and + white by turns, and looking somewhat like a young man who was being + marched up to a cannon's mouth. It struck him that it was an American kind + of thing he was called upon to do, and he was not an American, but British + from the top of his closely-cropped head to the rather thick soles of his + boots. He was, in truth, overwhelmed by his sense of his inadequacy to the + demands of the brilliantly conceived, but unheard-of situation. Joy and + terror swept over his being in waves. + </p> + <p> + The tall, proud, wood-nymph look of her as she stood under a tree, waiting + for him, would have struck his courage dead on the spot and caused him to + turn and flee in anguish, if she had not made a little move towards him, + with a heavenly, every-day humanness in her eyes. The way she managed it + was an amazing thing. He could never have managed it at all himself. + </p> + <p> + She came forward and gave him her hand, and really it was HER hand which + held his own comparatively steady. + </p> + <p> + “It is for Lady Jane,” she said. “That prevents it from + being ridiculous or improper. It is for Lady Jane. Her eyes,” with a + soft-touched laugh, “are the colour of the blue speedwell I showed + you. It is the colour of babies' eyes. And hers look as theirs do—as + if they asked everybody not to hurt them.” + </p> + <p> + He actually fell upon his knee, and bending his head over her hand, kissed + it half a dozen times with adoration. Good Lord, how she SAW and KNEW! + </p> + <p> + “If Jane were not Jane, and you were not YOU,” the words + rushed from him, “it would be the most outrageous—the most + impudent thing a man ever had the cheek to do.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is not.” She did not draw her hand away, and oh, the + girlish kindness of her smiling, supporting look. “You came to ask + me if——” + </p> + <p> + “If you would marry me, Miss Vanderpoel,” his head bending + over her hand again. “I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon. Oh Lord, + I do.' + </p> + <p> + “I thank you for the compliment you pay me,” she answered. + “I like you very much, Sir Thomas—and I like you just now more + than ever—but I could not marry you. I should not make you happy, + and I should not be happy myself. The truth is——” + thinking a moment, “each of us really belongs to a different kind of + person. And each of knows the fact.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you,” he said. “I think you know everything + in the world a woman can know—and remain an angel.” + </p> + <p> + It was an outburst of eloquence, and she took it in the prettiest way—with + the prettiest laugh, which had in it no touch of mockery or disbelief in + him. + </p> + <p> + “What I have said is quite final—if Lady Alanby should + inquire,” she said—adding rather quickly, “Someone is + coming.” + </p> + <p> + It pleased her to see that he did not hurry to his feet clumsily, but even + stood upright, with a shade of boyish dignity, and did not release her + hand before he had bent his head low over it again. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel was bringing with him Lady Alanby, Mrs. Manners, and his wife, + and when Betty met his eyes, she knew at once that he had not made his way + to this particular garden without intention. He had discovered that she + was with Tommy, and it had entertained him to break in upon them. + </p> + <p> + “I did not intend to interrupt Sir Thomas at his devotions,” + he remarked to her after dinner. “Accept my apologies.” + </p> + <p> + “It did not matter in the least, thank you,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to be able to say, Thomas, that you did not look an + entire fool when you got up from your knees, as we came into the rose + garden.” Thus Lady Alanby, as their carriage turned out of Stornham + village. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad myself,” Tommy answered. + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing there? Even if you were asking her to marry + you, it was not necessary to go that far. We are not in the seventeenth + century.” + </p> + <p> + Then Tommy flushed. + </p> + <p> + “I did not intend to do it. I could not help it. She was so—so + nice about everything. That girl is an angel. I told her so.” + </p> + <p> + “Very right and proper spirit to approach her in,” answered + the old woman, watching him keenly. “Was she angel enough to say she + would marry you?” + </p> + <p> + Tommy, for some occult reason, had the courage to stare back into his + grandmother's eyes, quite as if he were a man, and not a hobbledehoy, + expecting to be bullied. + </p> + <p> + “She does not want me,” he answered. “And I knew she + wouldn't. Why should she? I did what you ordered me to do, and she + answered me as I knew she would. She might have snubbed me, but she has + such a way with her—such a way of saying things and understanding, + that—that—well, I found myself on one knee, kissing her hand—as + if I was being presented at court.” + </p> + <p> + Old Lady Alanby looked out on the passing landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you did your best,” she summed the matter up at last, + “if you went down on your knees involuntarily. If you had done it on + purpose, it would have been unpardonable.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV + </h2> + <h3> + RED GODWYN + </h3> + <p> + Stornham Court had taken its proper position in the county as a place + which was equal to social exchange in the matter of entertainment. Sir + Nigel and Lady Anstruthers had given a garden party, according to the + decrees of the law obtaining in country neighbourhoods. The curiosity to + behold Miss Vanderpoel, and the change which had been worked in the + well-known desolation and disrepair, precluded the possibility of the + refusal of any invitations sent, the recipient being in his or her right + mind, and sound in wind and limb. That astonishing things had been + accomplished, and that the party was a successful affair, could not but be + accepted as truths. Garden parties had been heard of, were a trifle + repetitional, and even dull, but at this one there was real music and real + dancing, and clever entertainments were given at intervals in a + green-embowered little theatre, erected for the occasion. These were + agreeable additions to mere food and conversation, which were capable of + palling. + </p> + <p> + To the garden party the Anstruthers did not confine themselves. There were + dinner parties at Stornham, and they also were successful functions. The + guests were of those who make for the success of such entertainments. + </p> + <p> + “I called upon Mount Dunstan this afternoon,” Sir Nigel said + one evening, before the first of these dinners. “He might expect it, + as one is asking him to dine. I wish him to be asked. The Dunholms have + taken him up so tremendously that no festivity seems complete without him.” + </p> + <p> + He had been invited to the garden party, and had appeared, but Betty had + seen little of him. It is easy to see little of a guest at an out-of-door + festivity. In assisting Rosalie to attend to her visitors she had been + much occupied, but she had known that she might have seen more of him, if + he had intended that it should be so. He did not—for reasons of his + own—intend that it should be so, and this she became aware of. So + she walked, played in the bowling green, danced and talked with Westholt, + Tommy Alanby and others. + </p> + <p> + “He does not want to talk to me. He will not, if he can avoid it,” + was what she said to herself. + </p> + <p> + She saw that he rather sought out Mary Lithcom, who was not accustomed to + receiving special attention. The two walked together, danced together, and + in adjoining chairs watched the performance in the embowered theatre. Lady + Mary enjoyed her companion very much, but she wondered why he had attached + himself to her. + </p> + <p> + Betty Vanderpoel asked herself what they talked to each other about, and + did not suspect the truth, which was that they talked a good deal of + herself. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen much of Miss Vanderpoel?” Lady Mary had begun + by asking. + </p> + <p> + “I have SEEN her a good deal, as no doubt you have.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary's plain face expressed a somewhat touched reflectiveness. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said, “that the garden parties have + been a different thing this whole summer, just because one always knew one + would see her at them?” + </p> + <p> + A short laugh from Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + “Jane and I have gone to every garden party within twenty miles, + ever since we left the schoolroom. And we are very tired of them. But this + year we have quite cheered up. When we are dressing to go to something + dull, we say to each other, 'Well, at any rate, Miss Vanderpoel will be + there, and we shall see what she has on, and how her things are made,' and + that's something—besides the fun of watching people make up to her, + and hearing them talk about the men who want to marry her, and wonder + which one she will take. She will not take anyone in this place,” + the nice turned-up nose slightly suggesting a derisive sniff. “Who + is there who is suitable?” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan laughed shortly again. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know I am not an aspirant myself?” he said. He had + a mirthless sense of enjoyment in his own brazenness. Only he himself knew + how brazen the speech was. + </p> + <p> + Lady Mary looked at him with entire composure. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure you are not an aspirant for anybody. And I happen + to know that you dislike moneyed international marriages. You are so + obviously British that, even if I had not been told that, I should know it + was true. Miss Vanderpoel herself knows it is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she?” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Alanby spoke of it to Sir Nigel, and I heard Sir Nigel tell + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly the kind of unnecessary thing he would be likely to repeat.” + He cast the subject aside as if it were a worthless superfluity and went + on: “When you say there is no one suitable, you surely forget Lord + Westholt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's true I forgot him for the moment. But—” with + a laugh—“one rather feels as if she would require a royal duke + or something of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “You think she expects that kind of thing?” rather + indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “She? She doesn't think of the subject. She simply thinks of other + things—of Lady Anstruthers and Ughtred, of the work at Stornham and + the village life, which gives her new emotions and interest. She also + thinks about being nice to people. She is nicer than any girl I know.” + </p> + <p> + “You feel, however, she has a right to expect it?” still + without more than a casual air of interest. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you feel yourself?” said Lady Mary. “Women + who look like that—even when they are not millionairesses—usually + marry whom they choose. I do not believe that the two beautiful Miss + Gunnings rolled into one would have made anything as undeniable as she is. + One has seen portraits of them. Look at her as she stands there talking to + Tommy and Lord Dunholm!” + </p> + <p> + Internally Mount Dunstan was saying: “I am looking at her, thank + you,” and setting his teeth a little. + </p> + <p> + But Lady Mary was launched upon a subject which swept her along with it, + and she—so to speak—ground the thing in. + </p> + <p> + “Look at the turn of her head! Look at her mouth and chin, and her + eyes with the lashes sweeping over them when she looks down! You must have + noticed the effect when she lifts them suddenly to look at you. It's so + odd and lovely that it—it almost——” + </p> + <p> + “Almost makes you jump,” ended Mount Dunstan drily. + </p> + <p> + She did not laugh and, in fact, her expression became rather + sympathetically serious. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” she said, “I believe you feel a sort of rebellion + against the unfairness of the way things are dealt out. It does seem + unfair, of course. It would be perfectly disgraceful—if she were + different. I had moments of almost hating her until one day not long ago + she did something so bewitchingly kind and understanding of other people's + feelings that I gave up. It was clever, too,” with a laugh, “clever + and daring. If she were a young man she would make a dashing soldier.” + </p> + <p> + She did not give him the details of the story, but went on to say in + effect what she had said to Betty herself of the inevitable incidentalness + of her stay in the country. If she had not evidently come to Stornham this + year with a purpose, she would have spent the season in London and done + the usual thing. Americans were generally presented promptly, if they had + any position—sometimes when they had not. Lady Alanby had heard that + the fact that she was with her sister had awakened curiosity and people + were talking about her. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Alanby said in that dry way of hers that the arrival of an + unmarried American fortune in England was becoming rather like the visit + of an unmarried royalty. People ask each other what it means and begin to + arrange for it. So far, only the women have come, but Lady Alanby says + that is because the men have had no time to do anything but stay at home + and make the fortunes. She believes that in another generation there will + be a male leisure class, and then it will swoop down too, and marry + people. She was very sharp and amusing about it. She said it would help + them to rid themselves of a plethora of wealth and keep them from + bursting.” + </p> + <p> + She was an amiable, if unsentimental person, Mary Lithcom—and was, + quite without ill nature, expressing the consensus of public opinion. + These young women came to the country with something practical to exchange + in these days, and as there were men who had certain equivalents to offer, + so also there were men who had none, and whom decency should cause to + stand aside. Mount Dunstan knew that when she had said, “Who is + there who is suitable?” any shadow of a thought of himself as being + in the running had not crossed her mind. And this was not only for the + reasons she had had the ready composure to name, but for one less + conquerable. + </p> + <p> + Later, having left Mary Lithcom, he decided to take a turn by himself. He + had done his duty as a masculine guest. He had conversed with young women + and old ones, had danced, visited gardens and greenhouses, and taken his + part in all things. Also he had, in fact, reached a point when a few + minutes of solitude seemed a good thing. He found himself turning into the + clipped laurel walk, where Tommy Alanby had stood with Jane Lithcom, and + he went to the end of it and stood looking out on the view. + </p> + <p> + “Look at the turn of her head,” Lady Mary had said. “Look + at her mouth and chin.” And he had been looking at them the whole + afternoon, not because he had intended to do so, but because it was not + possible to prevent himself from doing it. + </p> + <p> + This was one of the ironies of fate. Orthodox doctrine might suggest that + it was to teach him that his past rebellion had been undue. Orthodox + doctrine was ever ready with these soothing little explanations. He had + raged and sulked at Destiny, and now he had been given something to rage + for. + </p> + <p> + “No one knows anything about it until it takes him by the throat,” + he was thinking, “and until it happens to a man he has no right to + complain. I was not starving before. I was not hungering and thirsting—in + sight of food and water. I suppose one of the most awful things in the + world is to feel this and know it is no use.” + </p> + <p> + He was not in the condition to reason calmly enough to see that there + might be one chance in a thousand that it was of use. At such times the + most intelligent of men and women lose balance and mental perspicacity. A + certain degree of unreasoning madness possesses them. They see too much + and too little. There were, it was true, a thousand chances against him, + but there was one for him—the chance that selection might be on his + side. He had not that balance of thought left which might have suggested + to him that he was a man young and powerful, and filled with an immense + passion which might count for something. All he saw was that he was + notably in the position of the men whom he had privately disdained when + they helped themselves by marriage. Such marriages he had held were + insults to the manhood of any man and the womanhood of any woman. In such + unions neither party could respect himself or his companion. They must + always in secret doubt each other, fret at themselves, feel distaste for + the whole thing. Even if a man loved such a woman, and the feeling was + mutual, to whom would it occur to believe it—to see that they were + not gross and contemptible? To no one. Would it have occurred to himself + that such an extenuating circumstance was possible? Certainly it would + not. Pig-headed pride and obstinacy it might be, but he could not yet face + even the mere thought of it—even if his whole position had not been + grotesque. Because, after all, it was grotesque that he should even argue + with himself. She—before his eyes and the eyes of all others—the + most desirable of women; people dinning it in one's ears that she was + surrounded by besiegers who waited for her to hold out her sceptre, and he—well, + what was he! Not that his mental attitude was that of a meek and humble + lover who felt himself unworthy and prostrated himself before her shrine + with prayers—he was, on the contrary, a stout and obstinate Briton + finding his stubbornly-held beliefs made as naught by a certain obsession—an + intolerable longing which wakened with him in the morning, which sank into + troubled sleep with him at night—the longing to see her, to speak to + her, to stand near her, to breathe the air of her. And possessed by this—full + of the overpowering strength of it—was a man likely to go to a woman + and say, “Give your life and desirableness to me; and incidentally + support me, feed me, clothe me, keep the roof over my head, as if I were + an impotent beggar”? + </p> + <p> + “No, by God!” he said. “If she thinks of me at all it + shall be as a man. No, by God, I will not sink to that!” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + A moving touch of colour caught his eye. It was the rose of a parasol seen + above the laurel hedge, as someone turned into the walk. He knew the + colour of it and expected to see other parasols and hear voices. But there + was no sound, and unaccompanied, the wonderful rose-thing moved towards + him. + </p> + <p> + “The usual things are happening to me,” was his thought as it + advanced. “I am hot and cold, and just now my heart leaped like a + rabbit. It would be wise to walk off, but I shall not do it. I shall stay + here, because I am no longer a reasoning being. I suppose that a horse who + refuses to back out of his stall when his stable is on fire feels + something of the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + When she saw him she made an involuntary-looking pause, and then + recovering herself, came forward. + </p> + <p> + “I seem to have come in search of you,” she said. “You + ought to be showing someone the view really—and so ought I.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall we show it to each other?” was his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” And she sat down on the stone seat which had been + placed for the comfort of view lovers. “I am a little tired—just + enough to feel that to slink away for a moment alone would be agreeable. + It IS slinking to leave Rosalie to battle with half the county. But I + shall only stay a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + She sat still and gazed at the beautiful lands spread before her, but + there was no stillness in her mind, neither was there stillness in his. He + did not look at the view, but at her, and he was asking himself what he + should be saying to her if he were such a man as Westholt. Though he had + boldness enough, he knew that no man—even though he is free to speak + the best and most passionate thoughts of his soul—could be sure that + he would gain what he desired. The good fortune of Westholt, or of any + other, could but give him one man's fair chance. + </p> + <p> + But having that chance, he knew he should not relinquish it soon. There + swept back into his mind the story of the marriage of his ancestor, Red + Godwyn, and he laughed low in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel looked up at him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Please tell me about it, if it is very amusing,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if it will amuse you,” was his answer. “Do you + like savage romance?” + </p> + <p> + “Very much.” + </p> + <p> + It might seem a propos de rien, but he did not care in the least. He + wanted to hear what she would say. + </p> + <p> + “An ancestor of mine—a certain Red Godwyn—was a + barbarian immensely to my taste. He became enamoured of rumours of the + beauty of the daughter and heiress of his bitterest enemy. In his day, + when one wanted a thing, one rode forth with axe and spear to fight for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “A simple and alluring method,” commented Betty. “What + was her name?” + </p> + <p> + She leaned in light ease against the stone back of her seat, the rose + light cast by her parasol faintly flushed her. The silence of their + retreat seemed accentuated by its background of music from the gardens. + They smiled a second bravely into each other's eyes, then their glances + became entangled, as they had done for a moment when they had stood + together in Mount Dunstan park. For one moment each had been held prisoner + then—now it was for longer. + </p> + <p> + “Alys of the Sea-Blue Eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Betty tried to release herself, but could not. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes the sea is grey,” she said. + </p> + <p> + His own eyes were still in hers. + </p> + <p> + “Hers were the colour of the sea on a day when the sun shines on it, + and there are large fleece-white clouds floating in the blue above. They + sparkled and were often like bluebells under water.” + </p> + <p> + “Bluebells under water sounds entrancing,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + He caught his breath slightly. + </p> + <p> + “They were—entrancing,” he said. “That was + evidently the devil of it—saving your presence.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never objected to the devil,” said Betty. “He is + an energetic, hard-working creature and paints himself an honest black. + Please tell me the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Red Godwyn went forth, and after a bloody fight took his enemy's + castle. If we still lived in like simple, honest times, I should take + Dunholm Castle in the same way. He also took Alys of the Eyes and bore her + away captive.” + </p> + <p> + “From such incidents developed the germs of the desire for female + suffrage,” Miss Vanderpoel observed gently. + </p> + <p> + “The interest of the story lies in the fact that apparently the + savage was either epicure or sentimentalist, or both. He did not treat the + lady ill. He shut her in a tower chamber overlooking his courtyard, and + after allowing her three days to weep, he began his barbarian wooing. + Arraying himself in splendour he ordered her to appear before him. He sat + upon the dais in his banquet hall, his retainers gathered about him—a + great feast spread. In archaic English we are told that the board groaned + beneath the weight of golden trenchers and flagons. Minstrels played and + sang, while he displayed all his splendour.” + </p> + <p> + “They do it yet,” said Miss Vanderpoel, “in London and + New York and other places.” + </p> + <p> + “The next day, attended by his followers, he took her with him to + ride over his lands. When she returned to her tower chamber she had + learned how powerful and great a chieftain he was. She 'laye softely' and + was attended by many maidens, but she had no entertainment but to look out + upon the great green court. There he arranged games and trials of strength + and skill, and she saw him bigger, stronger, and more splendid than any + other man. He did not even lift his eyes to her window. He also sent her + daily a rich gift.” + </p> + <p> + “How long did this go on?” + </p> + <p> + “Three months. At the end of that time he commanded her presence + again in his banquet hall. He told her the gates were opened, the + drawbridge down and an escort waiting to take her back to her father's + lands, if she would.” + </p> + <p> + “What did she do?” + </p> + <p> + “She looked at him long—and long. She turned proudly away—in + the sea-blue eyes were heavy and stormy tears, which seeing——” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, he saw them?” from Miss Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And seizing her in his arms caught her to his breast, calling + for a priest to make them one within the hour. I am quoting the chronicle. + I was fifteen when I read it first.” + </p> + <p> + “It is spirited,” said Betty, “and Red Godwyn was almost + modern in his methods.” + </p> + <p> + While professing composure and lightness of mood, the spell which works + between two creatures of opposite sex when in such case wrought in them + and made them feel awkward and stiff. When each is held apart from the + other by fate, or will, or circumstance, the spell is a stupefying thing, + deadening even the clearness of sight and wit. + </p> + <p> + “I must slink back now,” Betty said, rising. “Will you + slink back with me to give me countenance? I have greatly liked Red + Godwyn.” + </p> + <p> + So it occurred that when Nigel Anstruthers saw them again it was as they + crossed the lawn together, and people looked up from ices and cups of tea + to follow their slow progress with questioning or approving eyes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV + </h2> + <h3> + THE TIDAL WAVE + </h3> + <p> + There was only one man to speak to, and it being the nature of the beast—so + he harshly put it to himself—to be absolutely impelled to speech at + such times, Mount Dunstan laid bare his breast to him, tearing aside all + the coverings pride would have folded about him. The man was, of course, + Penzance, and the laying bare was done the evening after the story of Red + Godwyn had been told in the laurel walk. + </p> + <p> + They had driven home together in a profound silence, the elder man as deep + in thought as the younger one. Penzance was thinking that there was a + calmness in having reached sixty and in knowing that the pain and hunger + of earlier years would not tear one again. And yet, he himself was not + untorn by that which shook the man for whom his affection had grown year + by year. It was evidently very bad—very bad, indeed. He wondered if + he would speak of it, and wished he would, not because he himself had much + to say in answer, but because he knew that speech would be better than + hard silence. + </p> + <p> + “Stay with me to-night,” Mount Dunstan said, as they drove + through the avenue to the house. “I want you to dine with me and sit + and talk late. I am not sleeping well.” + </p> + <p> + They often dined together, and the vicar not infrequently slept at the + Mount for mere companionship's sake. Sometimes they read, sometimes went + over accounts, planned economies, and balanced expenditures. A chamber + still called the Chaplain's room was always kept in readiness. It had been + used in long past days, when a household chaplain had sat below the salt + and left his patron's table before the sweets were served. They dined + together this night almost as silently as they had driven homeward, and + after the meal they went and sat alone in the library. + </p> + <p> + The huge room was never more than dimly lighted, and the far-off corners + seemed more darkling than usual in the insufficient illumination of the + far from brilliant lamps. Mount Dunstan, after standing upon the hearth + for a few minutes smoking a pipe, which would have compared ill with old + Doby's Sunday splendour, left his coffee cup upon the mantel and began to + tramp up and down—out of the dim light into the shadows, back out of + the shadows into the poor light. + </p> + <p> + “You know,” he said, “what I think about most things—you + know what I feel.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I do.” + </p> + <p> + “You know what I feel about Englishmen who brand themselves as half + men and marked merchandise by selling themselves and their houses and + their blood to foreign women who can buy them. You know how savage I have + been at the mere thought of it. And how I have sworn——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know what you have sworn,” said Mr. Penzance. + </p> + <p> + It struck him that Mount Dunstan shook and tossed his head rather like a + bull about to charge an enemy. + </p> + <p> + “You know how I have felt myself perfectly within my rights when I + blackguarded such men and sneered at such women—taking it for + granted that each was merchandise of his or her kind and beneath contempt. + I am not a foul-mouthed man, but I have used gross words and rough ones to + describe them.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard you.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan threw back his head with a big, harsh laugh. He came out of + the shadow and stood still. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “I am in love—as much in love as + any lunatic ever was—with the daughter of Reuben S. Vanderpoel. + There you are—and there <i>I</i> am!” + </p> + <p> + “It has seemed to me,” Penzance answered, “that it was + almost inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + “My condition is such that it seems to ME that it would be + inevitable in the case of any man. When I see another man look at her my + blood races through my veins with an awful fear and a wicked heat. That + will show you the point I have reached.” He walked over to the + mantelpiece and laid his pipe down with a hand Penzance saw was unsteady. + “In turning over the pages of the volume of Life,” he said, + “I have come upon the Book of Revelations.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” Penzance said. + </p> + <p> + “Until one has come upon it one is an inchoate fool,” Mount + Dunstan went on. “And afterwards one is—for a time at least—a + sort of madman raving to one's self, either in or out of a straitjacket—as + the case may be. I am wearing the jacket—worse luck! Do you know + anything of the state of a man who cannot utter the most ordinary words to + a woman without being conscious that he is making mad love to her? This + afternoon I found myself telling Miss Vanderpoel the story of Red Godwyn + and Alys of the Sea-Blue Eyes. I did not make a single statement having + any connection with myself, but throughout I was calling on her to think + of herself and of me as of those two. I saw her in my own arms, with the + tears of Alys on her lashes. I was making mad love, though she was + unconscious of my doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know she was unconscious?” remarked Mr. Penzance. + “You are a very strong man.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan's short laugh was even a little awful, because it meant so + much. He let his forehead drop a moment on to his arms as they rested on + the mantelpiece. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God!” he said. But the next instant his head lifted + itself. “It is the mystery of the world—this thing. A tidal + wave gathering itself mountain high and crashing down upon one's + helplessness might be as easily defied. It is supposed to disperse, I + believe. That has been said so often that there must be truth in it. In + twenty or thirty or forty years one is told one will have got over it. But + one must live through the years—one must LIVE through them—and + the chief feature of one's madness is that one is convinced that they will + last forever.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said Mr. Penzance, because he had paused and stood + biting his lip. “Say all that you feel inclined to say. It is the + best thing you can do. I have never gone through this myself, but I have + seen and known the amazingness of it for many years. I have seen it come + and go.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you imagine,” Mount Dunstan said, “that the most + damnable thought of all—when a man is passing through it—is + the possibility of its GOING? Anything else rather than the knowledge that + years could change or death could end it! Eternity seems only to offer + space for it. One knows—but one does not believe. It does something + to one's brain.” + </p> + <p> + “No scientist, howsoever profound, has ever discovered what,” + the vicar mused aloud. + </p> + <p> + “The Book of Revelations has shown to me how—how MAGNIFICENT + life might be!” Mount Dunstan clenched and unclenched his hands, his + eyes flashing. “Magnificent—that is the word. To go to her on + equal ground to take her hands and speak one's passion as one would—as + her eyes answered. Oh, one would know! To bring her home to this place—having + made it as it once was—to live with her here—to be WITH her as + the sun rose and set and the seasons changed—with the joy of life + filling each of them. SHE is the joy of Life—the very heart of it. + You see where I am—you see!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Penzance answered. He saw, and bowed his head, and + Mount Dunstan knew he wished him to continue. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes—of late—it has been too much for me and I + have given free rein to my fancy—knowing that there could never be + more than fancy. I was doing it this afternoon as I watched her move about + among the people. And Mary Lithcom began to talk about her.” He + smiled a grim smile. “Perhaps it was an intervention of the gods to + drag me down from my impious heights. She was quite unconscious that she + was driving home facts like nails—the facts that every man who + wanted money wanted Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter—and that the + young lady, not being dull, was not unaware of the obvious truth! And that + men with prizes to offer were ready to offer them in a proper manner. Also + that she was only a brilliant bird of passage, who, in a few months, would + be caught in the dazzling net of the great world. And that even Lord + Westholt and Dunholm Castle were not quite what she might expect. Lady + Mary was sincerely interested. She drove it home in her ardour. She told + me to LOOK at her—to LOOK at her mouth and chin and eyelashes—and + to make note of what she stood for in a crowd of ordinary people. I could + have laughed aloud with rage and self-mockery.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance was resting his forehead on his hand, his elbow on his + chair's arm. + </p> + <p> + “This is profound unhappiness,” he said. “It is profound + unhappiness.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan answered by a brusque gesture. + </p> + <p> + “But it will pass away,” went on Penzance, “and not as + you fear it must,” in answer to another gesture, fiercely impatient. + “Not that way. Some day—or night—you will stand here + together, and you will tell her all you have told me. I KNOW it will be + so.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” Mount Dunstan cried out. But the words had been spoken + with such absolute conviction that he felt himself become pale. + </p> + <p> + It was with the same conviction that Penzance went on. + </p> + <p> + “I have spent my quiet life in thinking of the forces for which we + find no explanation—of the causes of which we only see the effects. + Long ago in looking at you in one of my pondering moments I said to myself + that YOU were of the Primeval Force which cannot lose its way—which + sweeps a clear pathway for itself as it moves—and which cannot be + held back. I said to you just now that because you are a strong man you + cannot be sure that a woman you are—even in spite of yourself—making + mad love to, is unconscious that you are doing it. You do not know what + your strength lies in. I do not, the woman does not, but we must all feel + it, whether we comprehend it or no. You said of this fine creature, some + time since, that she was Life, and you have just said again something of + the same kind. It is quite true. She is Life, and the joy of it. You are + two strong forces, and you are drawing together.” + </p> + <p> + He rose from his chair, and going to Mount Dunstan put his hand on his + shoulder, his fine old face singularly rapt and glowing. + </p> + <p> + “She is drawing you and you are drawing her, and each is too strong + to release the other. I believe that to be true. Both bodies and souls do + it. They are not separate things. They move on their way as the stars do—they + move on their way.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, Mount Dunstan's eyes looked into his fixedly. Then they + turned aside and looked down upon the mantel against which he was leaning. + He aimlessly picked up his pipe and laid it down again. He was paler than + before, but he said no single word. + </p> + <p> + “You think your reasons for holding aloof from her are the reasons + of a man.” Mr. Penzance's voice sounded to him remote. “They + are the reasons of a man's pride—but that is not the strongest thing + in the world. It only imagines it is. You think that you cannot go to her + as a luckier man could. You think nothing shall force you to speak. Ask + yourself why. It is because you believe that to show your heart would be + to place yourself in the humiliating position of a man who might seem to + her and to the world to be a base fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “An impudent, pushing, base fellow,” thrust in Mount Dunstan + fiercely. “One of a vulgar lot. A thing fancying even its beggary + worth buying. What has a man—whose very name is hung with tattered + ugliness—to offer?” + </p> + <p> + Penzance's hand was still on his shoulder and his look at him was long. + </p> + <p> + “His very pride,” he said at last, “his very obstinacy + and haughty, stubborn determination. Those broken because the other + feeling is the stronger and overcomes him utterly.” + </p> + <p> + A flush leaped to Mount Dunstan's forehead. He set both elbows on the + mantel and let his forehead fall on his clenched fists. And the savage + Briton rose in him. + </p> + <p> + “No!” he said passionately. “By God, no!” + </p> + <p> + “You say that,” said the older man, “because you have + not yet reached the end of your tether. Unhappy as you are, you are not + unhappy enough. Of the two, you love yourself the more—your pride + and your stubbornness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” between his teeth. “I suppose I retain yet a sort + of respect—and affection—for my pride. May God leave it to me!” + </p> + <p> + Penzance felt himself curiously exalted; he knew himself unreasoningly + passing through an oddly unpractical, uplifted moment, in whose impelling + he singularly believed. + </p> + <p> + “You are drawing her and she is drawing you,” he said. “Perhaps + you drew each other across seas. You will stand here together and you will + tell her of this—on this very spot.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan changed his position and laughed roughly, as if to rouse + himself. He threw out his arm in a big, uneasy gesture, taking in the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come,” he said. “You talk like a seer. Look about + you. Look! I am to bring her here!” + </p> + <p> + “If it is the primeval thing she will not care. Why should she?” + </p> + <p> + “She! Bring a life like hers to this! Or perhaps you mean that her + own wealth might make her surroundings becoming—that a man would + endure that?” + </p> + <p> + “If it is the primeval thing, YOU would not care. You would have + forgotten that you two had ever lived an hour apart.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with a deep, moved gravity—almost as if he were speaking of + the first Titan building of the earth. Mount Dunstan staring at his + delicate, insistent, elderly face, tried to laugh again—and failed + because the effort seemed actually irreverent. It was a singular hypnotic + moment, indeed. He himself was hypnotised. A flashlight of new vision + blazed before him and left him dumb. He took up his pipe hurriedly, and + with still unsteady fingers began to refill it. When it was filled he + lighted it, and then without a word of answer left the hearth and began to + tramp up and down the room again—out of the dim light into the + shadows, back out of the shadows and into the dim light again, his brow + working and his teeth holding hard his amber mouthpiece. + </p> + <p> + The morning awakening of a normal healthy human creature should be a + joyous thing. After the soul's long hours of release from the burden of + the body, its long hours spent—one can only say in awe at the + mystery of it, “away, away”—in flight, perhaps, on + broad, tireless wings, beating softly in fair, far skies, breathing pure + life, to be brought back to renew the strength of each dawning day; after + these hours of quiescence of limb and nerve and brain, the morning life + returning should unseal for the body clear eyes of peace at least. In time + to come this will be so, when the soul's wings are stronger, the body more + attuned to infinite law and the race a greater power—but as yet it + often seems as though the winged thing came back a lagging and reluctant + rebel against its fate and the chain which draws it back a prisoner to its + toil. + </p> + <p> + It had seemed so often to Mount Dunstan—oftener than not. Youth + should not know such awakening, he was well aware; but he had known it + sometimes even when he had been a child, and since his return from his + ill-starred struggle in America, the dull and reluctant facing of the day + had become a habit. Yet on the morning after his talk with his friend—the + curious, uplifted, unpractical talk which had seemed to hypnotise him—he + knew when he opened his eyes to the light that he had awakened as a man + should awake—with an unreasoning sense of pleasure in the life and + health of his own body, as he stretched mighty limbs, strong after the + night's rest, and feeling that there was work to be done. It was all + unreasoning—there was no more to be done than on those other days + which he had wakened to with bitterness, because they seemed useless and + empty of any worth—but this morning the mere light of the sun was of + use, the rustle of the small breeze in the leaves, the soft floating past + of the white clouds, the mere fact that the great blind-faced, stately + house was his own, that he could tramp far over lands which were his + heritage, unfed though they might be, and that the very rustics who would + pass him in the lanes were, so to speak, his own people: that he had name, + life, even the common thing of hunger for his morning food—it was + all of use. + </p> + <p> + An alluring picture—of a certain deep, clear bathing pool in the + park rose before him. It had not called to him for many a day, and now he + saw its dark blueness gleam between flags and green rushes in its + encircling thickness of shrubs and trees. + </p> + <p> + He sprang from his bed, and in a few minutes was striding across the grass + of the park, his towels over his arm, his head thrown back as he drank in + the freshness of the morning-scented air. It was scented with dew and + grass and the breath of waking trees and growing things; early twitters + and thrills were to be heard here and there, insisting on morning + joyfulness; rabbits frisked about among the fine-grassed hummocks of their + warren and, as he passed, scuttled back into their holes, with a whisking + of short white tails, at which he laughed with friendly amusement. + Cropping stags lifted their antlered heads, and fawns with dappled sides + and immense lustrous eyes gazed at him without actual fear, even while + they sidled closer to their mothers. A skylark springing suddenly from the + grass a few yards from his feet made him stop short once and stand looking + upward and listening. Who could pass by a skylark at five o'clock on a + summer's morning—the little, heavenly light-heart circling and + wheeling, showering down diamonds, showering down pearls, from its tiny + pulsating, trilling throat? + </p> + <p> + “Do you know why they sing like that? It is because all but the joy + of things has been kept hidden from them. They knew nothing but life and + flight and mating, and the gold of the sun. So they sing.” That she + had once said. + </p> + <p> + He listened until the jewelled rain seemed to have fallen into his soul. + Then he went on his way smiling as he knew he had never smiled in his life + before. He knew it because he realised that he had never before felt the + same vigorous, light normality of spirit, the same sense of being as other + men. It was as though something had swept a great clear space about him, + and having room for air he breathed deep and was glad of the commonest + gifts of being. + </p> + <p> + The bathing pool had been the greatest pleasure of his uncared-for + boyhood. No one knew which long passed away Mount Dunstan had made it. The + oldest villager had told him that it had “allus ben there,” + even in his father's time. Since he himself had known it he had seen that + it was kept at its best. + </p> + <p> + Its dark blue depths reflected in their pellucid clearness the water + plants growing at its edge and the enclosing shrubs and trees. The turf + bordering it was velvet-thick and green, and a few flag-steps led down to + the water. Birds came there to drink and bathe and preen and dress their + feathers. He knew there were often nests in the bushes—sometimes the + nests of nightingales who filled the soft darkness or moonlight of early + June with the wonderfulness of nesting song. Sometimes a straying fawn + poked in a tender nose, and after drinking delicately stole away, as if it + knew itself a trespasser. + </p> + <p> + To undress and plunge headlong into the dark sapphire water was a + rapturous thing. He swam swiftly and slowly by turns, he floated, looking + upward at heaven's blue, listening to birds' song and inhaling all the + fragrance of the early day. Strength grew in him and life pulsed as the + water lapped his limbs. He found himself thinking with pleasure of a long + walk he intended to take to see a farmer he must talk to about his hop + gardens; he found himself thinking with pleasure of other things as simple + and common to everyday life—such things as he ordinarily faced + merely because he must, since he could not afford an experienced bailiff. + He was his own bailiff, his own steward, merely, he had often thought, an + unsuccessful farmer of half-starved lands. But this morning neither he nor + they seemed so starved, and—for no reason—there was a future + of some sort. + </p> + <p> + He emerged from his pool glowing, the turf feeling like velvet beneath his + feet, a fine light in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, throwing out his arms in a lordly stretch of + physical well-being, “it might be a magnificent thing—mere + strong living. THIS is magnificent.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI + </h2> + <h3> + BY THE ROADSIDE EVERYWHERE + </h3> + <p> + His breakfast and the talk over it with Penzance seemed good things. It + suddenly had become worth while to discuss the approaching hop harvest and + the yearly influx of the hop pickers from London. Yesterday the subject + had appeared discouraging enough. The great hop gardens of the estate had + been in times past its most prolific source of agricultural revenue and + the boast and wonder of the hop-growing county. The neglect and scant food + of the lean years had cost them their reputation. Each season they had + needed smaller bands of “hoppers,” and their standard had been + lowered. It had been his habit to think of them gloomily, as of hopeless + and irretrievable loss. Because this morning, for a remote reason, the + pulse of life beat strong in him he was taking a new view. Might not study + of the subject, constant attention and the application of all available + resource to one end produce appreciable results? The idea presented itself + in the form of a thing worth thinking of. + </p> + <p> + “It would provide an outlook and give one work to do,” he put + it to his companion. “To have a roof over one's head, a sound body, + and work to do, is not so bad. Such things form the whole of G. Selden's + cheerful aim. His spirit is alight within me. I will walk over and talk to + Bolter.” + </p> + <p> + Bolter was a farmer whose struggle to make ends meet was almost too much + for him. Holdings whose owners, either through neglect or lack of money, + have failed to do their duty as landlords in the matter of repairs of + farmhouses, outbuildings, fences, and other things, gradually fall into + poor hands. Resourceful and prosperous farmers do not care to hold lands + under unprosperous landlords. There were farms lying vacant on the Mount + Dunstan estate, there were others whose tenants were uncertain rent payers + or slipshod workers or dishonest in small ways. Waste or sale of the + fertiliser which should have been given to the soil as its due, neglect in + the case of things whose decay meant depreciation of property and expense + to the landlord, were dishonesties. But Mount Dunstan knew that if he + turned out Thorn and Fittle, whom no watching could wholly frustrate in + their tricks, Under Mount Farm and Oakfield Rise would stand empty for + many a year. But for his poverty Bolter would have been a good tenant + enough. He was in trouble now because, though his hops promised well, he + faced difficulties in the matter of “pickers.” Last year he + had not been able to pay satisfactory prices in return for labour, and as + a result the prospect of securing good workers was an unpromising one. + </p> + <p> + The hordes of men, women, and children who flock year after year to the + hop-growing districts know each other. They learn also which may be called + the good neighbourhoods and which the bad; the gardens whose holders are + considered satisfactory as masters, and those who are undesirable. They + know by experience or report where the best “huts” are + provided, where tents are supplied, and where one must get along as one + can. + </p> + <p> + Generally the regular flocks are under a “captain,” who + gathers his followers each season, manages them and looks after their + interests and their employers'. In some cases the same captain brings his + regiment to the same gardens year after year, and ends by counting himself + as of the soil and almost of the family of his employer. Each hard, + thick-fogged winter they fight through in their East End courts and + streets, they look forward to the open-air weeks spent between long, + narrow green groves of tall garlanded poles, whose wreathings hang thick + with fresh and pungent-scented hop clusters. Children play “'oppin” + in dingy rooms and alleys, and talk to each other of days when the sun + shone hot and birds were singing and flowers smelling sweet in the + hedgerows; of others when the rain streamed down and made mud of the soft + earth, and yet there was pleasure in the gipsying life, and high cheer in + the fire of sticks built in the field by some bold spirit, who hung over + it a tin kettle to boil for tea. They never forgot the gentry they had + caught sight of riding or driving by on the road, the parson who came to + talk, and the occasional groups of ladies from the “great house” + who came into the gardens to walk about and look at the bins and ask queer + questions in their gentry-sounding voices. They never knew anything, and + they always seemed to be entertained. Sometimes there were enterprising, + laughing ones, who asked to be shown how to strip the hops into the bins, + and after being shown played at the work for a little while, taking off + their gloves and showing white fingers with rings on. They always looked + as if they had just been washed, and as if all of their clothes were fresh + from the tub, and when anyone stood near them it was observable that they + smelt nice. Generally they gave pennies to the children before they left + the garden, and sometimes shillings to the women. The hop picking was, in + fact, a wonderful blend of work and holiday combined. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan had liked the “hopping” from his first memories + of it. He could recall his sensations of welcoming a renewal of + interesting things when, season after season, he had begun to mark the + early stragglers on the road. The stragglers were not of the class + gathered under captains. They were derelicts—tramps who spent their + summers on the highways and their winters in such workhouses as would take + them in; tinkers, who differ from the tramps only because sometimes they + owned a rickety cart full of strange household goods and drunken + tenth-hand perambulators piled with dirty bundles and babies, these last + propelled by robust or worn-out, slatternly women, who sat by the small + roadside fire stirring the battered pot or tending the battered kettle, + when resting time had come and food must be cooked. Gipsies there were who + had cooking fires also, and hobbled horses cropping the grass. Now and + then appeared a grand one, who was rumoured to be a Lee and therefore + royal, and who came and lived regally in a gaily painted caravan. During + the late summer weeks one began to see slouching figures tramping along + the high road at intervals. These were men who were old, men who were + middle-aged and some who were young, all of them more or less dust-grimed, + weather-beaten, or ragged. Occasionally one was to be seen in heavy beery + slumber under the hedgerow, or lying on the grass smoking lazily, or with + painful thrift cobbling up a hole in a garment. Such as these were + drifting in early that they might be on the ground when pickers were + wanted. They were the forerunners of the regular army. + </p> + <p> + On his walk to West Ways, the farm Bolter lived on, Mount Dunstan passed + two or three of these strays. They were the usual flotsam and jetsam, but + on the roadside near a hop garden he came upon a group of an aspect so + unusual that it attracted his attention. Its unusualness consisted in its + air of exceeding bustling cheerfulness. It was a domestic group of the + most luckless type, and ragged, dirty, and worn by an evidently long + tramp, might well have been expected to look forlorn, discouraged, and out + of spirits. A slouching father of five children, one plainly but a few + weeks old, and slung in a dirty shawl at its mother's breast, an unhealthy + looking slattern mother, two ancient perambulators, one piled with dingy + bundles and cooking utensils, the seven-year-old eldest girl unpacking + things and keeping an eye at the same time on the two youngest, who were + neither of them old enough to be steady on their feet, the six-year-old + gleefully aiding the slouching father to build the wayside fire. The + mother sat upon the grass nursing her baby and staring about her with an + expression at once stupefied and illuminated by some temporary bliss. Even + the slouching father was grinning, as if good luck had befallen him, and + the two youngest were tumbling about with squeals of good cheer. This was + not the humour in which such a group usually dropped wearily on the grass + at the wayside to eat its meagre and uninviting meal and rest its dragging + limbs. As he drew near, Mount Dunstan saw that at the woman's side there + stood a basket full of food and a can full of milk. + </p> + <p> + Ordinarily he would have passed on, but, perhaps because of the human glow + the morning had brought him, he stopped and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Have you come for the hopping?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + The man touched his forehead, apparently not conscious that the grin was + yet on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “How far have you walked?” + </p> + <p> + “A good fifty miles since we started, sir. It took us a good bit. We + was pretty done up when we stopped here. But we've 'ad a wonderful piece + of good luck.” And his grin broadened immensely. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear that,” said Mount Dunstan. The good luck + was plainly of a nature to have excited them greatly. Chance good luck did + not happen to people like themselves. They were in the state of mind which + in their class can only be relieved by talk. The woman broke in, her weak + mouth and chin quite unsteady. + </p> + <p> + “Seems like it can't be true, sir,” she said. “I'd only + just come out of the Union—after this one,” signifying the new + baby at her breast. “I wasn't fit to drag along day after day. We + 'ad to stop 'ere 'cos I was near fainting away.” + </p> + <p> + “She looked fair white when she sat down,” put in the man. + “Like she was goin' off.” + </p> + <p> + “And that very minute,” said the woman, “a young lady + came by on 'orseback, an' the minute she sees me she stops her 'orse an' + gets down.” + </p> + <p> + “I never seen nothing like the quick way she done it,” said + the husband. “Sharp, like she was a soldier under order. Down an' + give the bridle to the groom an' comes over.” + </p> + <p> + “And kneels down,” the woman took him up, “right by me + an' says, 'What's the matter? What can I do?' an' finds out in two minutes + an' sends to the farm for some brandy an' all this basketful of stuff,” + jerking her head towards the treasure at her side. “An' gives 'IM,” + with another jerk towards her mate, “money enough to 'elp us along + till I'm fair on my feet. That quick it was—that quick,” + passing her hand over her forehead, “as if it wasn't for the basket,” + with a nervous, half-hysteric giggle, “I wouldn't believe but what + it was a dream—I wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “She was a very kind young lady,” said Mount Dunstan, “and + you were in luck.” + </p> + <p> + He gave a few coppers to the children and strode on his way. The glow was + hot in his heart, and he held his head high. + </p> + <p> + “She has gone by,” he said. “She has gone by.” + </p> + <p> + He knew he should find her at West Ways Farm, and he did so. Slim and + straight as a young birch tree, and elate with her ride in the morning + air, she stood silhouetted in her black habit against the ancient + whitewashed brick porch as she talked to Bolter. + </p> + <p> + “I have been drinking a glass of milk and asking questions about + hops,” she said, giving him her hand bare of glove. “Until + this year I have never seen a hop garden or a hop picker.” + </p> + <p> + After the exchange of a few words Bolter respectfully melted away and left + them together. + </p> + <p> + “It was such a wonderful day that I wanted to be out under the sky + for a long time—to ride a long way,” she explained. “I + have been looking at hop gardens as I rode. I have watched them all the + summer—from the time when there was only a little thing with two or + three pale green leaves looking imploringly all the way up to the top of + each immensely tall hop pole, from its place in the earth at the bottom of + it—as if it was saying over and over again, under its breath, 'Can I + get up there? Can I get up? Can I do it in time? Can I do it in time?' + Yes, that was what they were saying, the little bold things. I have + watched them ever since, putting out tendrils and taking hold of the poles + and pulling and climbing like little acrobats. And curling round and + unfolding leaves and more leaves, until at last they threw them out as if + they were beginning to boast that they could climb up into the blue of the + sky if the summer were long enough. And now, look at them!” her hand + waved towards the great gardens. “Forests of them, cool green + pathways and avenues with leaf canopies over them.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen it all,” he said. “You do see things, + don't you? A few hundred yards down the road I passed something you had + seen. I knew it was you who had seen it, though the poor wretches had not + heard your name.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a moment, then stooped down and took up in her hand a bit of + pebbled earth from the pathway. There was storm in the blue of her eyes as + she held it out for him to look at as it lay on the bare rose-flesh of her + palm. + </p> + <p> + “See,” she said, “see, it is like that—what we + give. It is like that.” And she tossed the earth away. + </p> + <p> + “It does not seem like that to those others.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank God, it does not. But to one's self it is the mere luxury + of self-indulgence, and the realisation of it sometimes tempts one to be + even a trifle morbid. Don't you see,” a sudden thrill in her voice + startled him, “they are on the roadside everywhere all over the + world.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. All over the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Once when I was a child of ten I read a magazine article about the + suffering millions and the monstrously rich, who were obviously to blame + for every starved sob and cry. It almost drove me out of my childish + senses. I went to my father and threw myself into his arms in a violent + fit of crying. I clung to him and sobbed out, 'Let us give it all away; + let us give it all away and be like other people!'” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “He said we could never be quite like other people. We had a certain + load to carry along the highway. It was the thing the whole world wanted + and which we ourselves wanted as much as the rest, and we could not sanely + throw it away. It was my first lesson in political economy and I abhorred + it. I was a passionate child and beat furiously against the stone walls + enclosing present suffering. It was horrible to know that they could not + be torn down. I cried out, 'When I see anyone who is miserable by the + roadside I shall stop and give him everything he wants—everything!' + I was ten years old, and thought it could be done.” + </p> + <p> + “But you stop by the roadside even now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That one can do.” + </p> + <p> + “You are two strong creatures and you draw each other,” + Penzance had said. “Perhaps you drew each other across seas. Who + knows?” + </p> + <p> + Coming to West Ways on a chance errand he had, as it were, found her + awaiting him on the threshold. On her part she had certainly not + anticipated seeing him there, but—when one rides far afield in the + sun there are roads towards which one turns as if answering a summoning + call, and as her horse had obeyed a certain touch of the rein at a certain + point her cheek had felt momentarily hot. + </p> + <p> + Until later, when the “picking” had fairly begun, the kilns + would not be at work; but there was some interest even now in going over + the ground for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “I have never been inside an oast house,” she said; “Bolter + is going to show me his, and explain technicalities.” + </p> + <p> + “May I come with you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + There was a change in him. Something had lighted in his eyes since the day + before, when he had told her his story of Red Godwyn. She wondered what it + was. They went together over the place, escorted by Bolter. They looked + into the great circular ovens, on whose floors the hops would be laid for + drying, they mounted ladder-like steps to the upper room where, when + dried, the same hops would lie in soft, light piles, until pushed with + wooden shovels into the long “pokes” to be pressed and packed + into a solid marketable mass. Bolter was allowed to explain the + technicalities, but it was plain that Mount Dunstan was familiar with all + of them, and it was he who, with a sentence here and there, gave her the + colour of things. + </p> + <p> + “When it is being done there is nearly always outside a touch of the + sharp sweetness of early autumn,” he said “The sun slanting + through the little window falls on the pale yellow heaps, and there is a + pungent scent of hops in the air which is rather intoxicating.” + </p> + <p> + “I am coming later to see the entire process,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + It was a mere matter of seeing common things together and exchanging + common speech concerning them, but each was so strongly conscious of the + other that no sentence could seem wholly impersonal. There are times when + the whole world is personal to a mood whose intensity seems a reason for + all things. Words are of small moment when the mere sound of a voice makes + an unreasonable joy. + </p> + <p> + “There was that touch of sharp autumn sweetness in the air yesterday + morning,” she said. “And the chaplets of briony berries that + look as if they had been thrown over the hedges are beginning to change to + scarlet here and there. The wild rose-haws are reddening, and so are the + clusters of berries on the thorn trees and bushes.” + </p> + <p> + “There are millions of them,” Mount Dunstan said, “and + in a few weeks' time they will look like bunches of crimson coral. When + the sun shines on them they will be wonderful to see.” + </p> + <p> + What was there in such speeches as these to draw any two nearer and nearer + to each other as they walked side by side—to fill the morning air + with an intensity of life, to seem to cause the world to drop away and + become as nothing? As they had been isolated during their waltz in the + crowded ballroom at Dunholm Castle, so they were isolated now. When they + stood in the narrow green groves of the hop garden, talking simply of the + placing of the bins and the stripping and measuring of the vines, there + might have been no human thing within a hundred miles—within a + thousand. For the first time his height and strength conveyed to her an + impression of physical beauty. His walk and bearing gave her pleasure. + When he turned his red-brown eyes upon her suddenly she was conscious that + she liked their colour, their shape, the power of the look in them. On his + part, he—for the twentieth time—found himself newly moved by + the dower nature had bestowed on her. Had the world ever held before a + woman creature so much to be longed for?—abnormal wealth, New York + and Fifth Avenue notwithstanding, a man could only think of folding arms + round her and whispering in her lovely ear—follies, oaths, prayers, + gratitude. + </p> + <p> + And yet as they went about together there was growing in Betty + Vanderpoel's mind a certain realisation. It grew in spite of the + recognition of the change in him—the new thing lighted in his eyes. + Whatsoever he felt—if he felt anything—he would never allow + himself speech. How could he? In his place she could not speak herself. + Because he was the strong thing which drew her thoughts, he would not come + to any woman only to cast at her feet a burden which, in the nature of + things, she must take up. And suddenly she comprehended that the mere + obstinate Briton in him—even apart from greater things—had an + immense attraction for her. As she liked now the red-brown colour of his + eyes and saw beauty in his rugged features, so she liked his British + stubbornness and the pride which would not be beaten. + </p> + <p> + “It is the unconquerable thing, which leads them in their battles + and makes them bear any horror rather than give in. They have taken half + the world with it; they are like bulldogs and lions,” she thought. + “And—and I am glorying in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” said Mount Dunstan, “that sometimes you + suddenly fling out the most magnificent flag of colour—as if some + splendid flame of thought had sent up a blaze?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope it is not a habit,” she answered. “When one has + a splendid flare of thought one should be modest about it.” + </p> + <p> + What was there worth recording in the whole hour they spent together? + Outwardly there had only been a chance meeting and a mere passing by. But + each left something with the other and each learned something; and the + record made was deep. + </p> + <p> + At last she was on her horse again, on the road outside the white gate. + </p> + <p> + “This morning has been so much to the good,” he said. “I + had thought that perhaps we might scarcely meet again this year. I shall + become absorbed in hops and you will no doubt go away. You will make + visits or go to the Riviera—or to New York for the winter?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know yet. But at least I shall stay to watch the thorn + trees load themselves with coral.” To herself she was saying: + “He means to keep away. I shall not see him.” + </p> + <p> + As she rode off Mount Dunstan stood for a few moments, not moving from his + place. At a short distance from the farmhouse gate a side lane opened upon + the highway, and as she cantered in its direction a horseman turned in + from it—a man who was young and well dressed and who sat well a + spirited animal. He came out upon the road almost face to face with Miss + Vanderpoel, and from where he stood Mount Dunstan could see his delighted + smile as he lifted his hat in salute. It was Lord Westholt, and what more + natural than that after an exchange of greetings the two should ride + together on their way! For nearly three miles their homeward road would be + the same. + </p> + <p> + But in a breath's space Mount Dunstan realised a certain truth—a + simple, elemental thing. All the exaltation of the morning swooped and + fell as a bird seems to swoop and fall through space. It was all over and + done with, and he understood it. His normal awakening in the morning, the + physical and mental elation of the first clear hours, the spring of his + foot as he had trod the road, had all had but one meaning. In some occult + way the hypnotic talk of the night before had formed itself into a + reality, fantastic and unreasoning as it had been. Some insistent inner + consciousness had seized upon and believed it in spite of him and had set + all his waking being in tune to it. That was the explanation of his undue + spirits and hope. If Penzance had spoken a truth he would have had a + natural, sane right to feel all this and more. But the truth was that he, + in his guise—was one of those who are “on the roadside + everywhere—all over the world.” Poetically figurative as the + thing sounded, it was prosaic fact. + </p> + <p> + So, still hearing the distant sounds of the hoofs beating in cheerful + diminuendo on the roadway, he turned about and went back to talk to + Bolter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII + </h2> + <h3> + CLOSED CORRIDORS + </h3> + <p> + To spend one's days perforce in an enormous house alone is a thing likely + to play unholy tricks with a man's mind and lead it to gloomy workings. To + know the existence of a hundred or so of closed doors shut on the darkness + of unoccupied rooms; to be conscious of flights of unmounted stairs, of + stretches of untrodden corridors, of unending walls, from which the + pictured eyes of long dead men and women stare, as if seeing things which + human eyes behold not—is an eerie and unwholesome thing. Mount + Dunstan slept in a large four-post bed in a chamber in which he might have + died or been murdered a score of times without being able to communicate + with the remote servants' quarters below stairs, where lay the one man and + one woman who attended him. When he came late to his room and prepared for + sleep by the light of two flickering candles the silence of the dead in + tombs was about him; but it was only a more profound and insistent thing + than the silence of the day, because it was the silence of the night, + which is a presence. He used to tell himself with secret smiles at the + fact that at certain times the fantasy was half believable—that + there were things which walked about softly at night—things which + did not want to be dead. He himself had picked them out from among the + pictures in the gallery—pretty, light, petulant women; + adventurous-eyed, full-blooded, eager men. His theory was that they hated + their stone coffins, and fought their way back through the grey mists to + try to talk and make love and to be seen of warm things which were alive. + But it was not to be done, because they had no bodies and no voices, and + when they beat upon closed doors they would not open. Still they came back—came + back. And sometimes there was a rustle and a sweep through the air in a + passage, or a creak, or a sense of waiting which was almost a sound. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps some of them have gone when they have been as I am,” + he had said one black night, when he had sat in his room staring at the + floor. “If a man was dragged out when he had not LIVED a day, he + would come back I should come back if—God! A man COULD not be + dragged away—like THIS!” + </p> + <p> + And to sit alone and think of it was an awful and a lonely thing—a + lonely thing. + </p> + <p> + But loneliness was nothing new, only that in these months his had + strangely intensified itself. This, though he was not aware of it, was + because the soul and body which were the completing parts of him were + within reach—and without it. When he went down to breakfast he sat + singly at his table, round which twenty people might have laughed and + talked. Between the dining-room and the library he spent his days when he + was not out of doors. Since he could not afford servants, the many other + rooms must be kept closed. It was a ghastly and melancholy thing to make, + as he must sometimes, a sort of precautionary visit to the state + apartments. He was the last Mount Dunstan, and he would never see them + opened again for use, but so long as he lived under the roof he might by + prevision check, in a measure, the too rapid encroachments of decay. To + have a leak stopped here, a nail driven or a support put there, seemed + decent things to do. + </p> + <p> + “Whom am I doing it for?” he said to Mr. Penzance. “I am + doing it for myself—because I cannot help it. The place seems to me + like some gorgeous old warrior come to the end of his days. It has stood + the war of things for century after century—the war of things. It is + going now I am all that is left to it. It is all I have. So I patch it up + when I can afford it, with a crutch or a splint and a bandage.” + </p> + <p> + Late in the afternoon of the day on which Miss Vanderpoel rode away from + West Ways with Lord Westholt, a stealthy and darkly purple cloud rose, + lifting its ominous bulk against a chrysoprase and pink horizon. It was + the kind of cloud which speaks of but one thing to those who watch clouds, + or even casually consider them. So Lady Anstruthers felt some surprise + when she saw Sir Nigel mount his horse before the stone steps and ride + away, as it were, into the very heart of the coming storm. + </p> + <p> + “Nigel will be caught in the rain,” she said to her sister. + “I wonder why he goes out now. It would be better to wait until + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + But Sir Nigel did not think so. He had calculated matters with some + nicety. He was not exactly on such terms with Mount Dunstan as would make + a casual call seem an entirely natural thing, and he wished to drop in + upon him for a casual call and in an unpremeditated manner. He meant to + reach the Mount about the time the storm broke, under which circumstance + nothing could bear more lightly an air of being unpremeditated than to + take refuge in a chance passing. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan was in the library. He had sat smoking his pipe while he + watched the purple cloud roll up and spread itself, blotting out the + chrysoprase and pink and blue, and when the branches of the trees began to + toss about he had looked on with pleasure as the rush of big rain drops + came down and pelted things. It was a fine storm, and there were some + imposing claps of thunder and jagged flashes of lightning. As one splendid + rattle shook the air he was surprised to hear a summons at the great hall + door. Who on earth could be turning up at this time? His man Reeve + announced the arrival a few moments later, and it was Sir Nigel + Anstruthers. He had, he explained, been riding through the village when + the deluge descended, and it had occurred to him to turn in at the park + gates and ask a temporary shelter. Mount Dunstan received him with + sufficient courtesy. His appearance was not a thing to rejoice over, but + it could be endured. Whisky and soda and a smoke would serve to pass the + hour, if the storm lasted so long. + </p> + <p> + Conversation was not the easiest thing in the world under the + circumstances, but Sir Nigel led the way steadily after he had taken his + seat and accepted the hospitalities offered. What a place it was—this! + He had been struck for the hundredth time with the impressiveness of the + mass of it, the sweep of the park and the splendid grouping of the timber, + as he had ridden up the avenue. There was no other place like it in the + county. Was there another like it in England? + </p> + <p> + “Not in its case, I hope,” Mount Dunstan said. + </p> + <p> + There were a few seconds of silence. The rain poured down in splashing + sheets and was swept in rattling gusts against the window panes. + </p> + <p> + “What the place needs is—an heiress,” Anstruthers + observed in the tone of a practical man. “I believe I have heard + that your views of things are such that she should preferably NOT be an + American.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan did not smile, though he slightly showed his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “When I am driven to the wall,” he answered, “I may not + be fastidious as to nationality.” + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers' manner was not a bad one. He chose that tone of casual + openness which, while it does not wholly commit itself, may be regarded as + suggestive of the amiable half confidence of speeches made as “man + to man.” + </p> + <p> + “My own opportunity of studying the genus American heiress within my + own gates is a first-class one. I find that it knows what it wants and + that its intention is to get it.” A short laugh broke from him as he + flicked the ash from his cigar on to the small bronze receptacle at his + elbow. “It is not many years since it would have been difficult for + a girl to be frank enough to say, 'When I marry I shall ask something in + exchange for what I have to give.'” + </p> + <p> + “There are not many who have as much to give,” said Mount + Dunstan coolly. + </p> + <p> + “True,” with a slight shrug. “You are thinking that men + are glad enough to take a girl like that—even one who has not a + shape like Diana's and eyes like the sea. Yes, by George,” softly, + and narrowing his lids, “she IS a handsome creature.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan did not attempt to refute the statement, and Anstruthers + laughed low again. + </p> + <p> + “It is an asset she knows the value of quite clearly. That is the + interesting part of it. She has inherited the far-seeing commercial mind. + She does not object to admitting it. She educated herself in delightful + cold blood that she might be prepared for the largest prize appearing upon + the horizon. She held things in view when she was a child at school, and + obviously attacked her French, German, and Italian conjugations with a + twelve-year-old eye on the future.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan leaning back carelessly in his chair, laughed—as it + seemed—with him. Internally he was saying that the man was a liar + who might always be trusted to lie, but he knew with shamed fury that the + lies were doing something to his soul—rolling dark vapours over it—stinging + him, dragging away props, and making him feel they had been foolish things + to lean on. This can always be done with a man in love who has slight + foundation for hope. For some mysterious and occult reason civilisation + has elected to treat the strange and great passion as if it were an unholy + and indecent thing, whose dominion over him proper social training + prevents any man from admitting openly. In passing through its cruelest + phases he must bear himself as if he were immune, and this being the + custom, he may be called upon to endure much without the relief of + striking out with manly blows. An enemy guessing his case and possessing + the infernal gift whose joy is to dishearten and do hurt with courteous + despitefulness, may plant a poisoned arrow here and there with neatness + and fine touch, while his bound victim can, with decency, neither start, + nor utter brave howls, nor guard himself, but must sit still and listen, + hospitably supplying smoke and drink and being careful not to make an ass + of himself. + </p> + <p> + Therefore Mount Dunstan pushed the cigars nearer to his visitor and waved + his hand hospitably towards the whisky and soda. There was no reason, in + fact, why Anstruthers—or any one indeed, but Penzance, should + suspect that he had become somewhat mad in secret. The man's talk was + marked merely by the lightly disparaging malice which was rarely to be + missed from any speech of his which touched on others. Yet it might have + been a thing arranged beforehand, to suggest adroitly either lies or truth + which would make a man see every sickeningly good reason for feeling that + in this contest he did not count for a man at all. + </p> + <p> + “It has all been pretty obvious,” said Sir Nigel. “There + is a sort of cynicism in the openness of the siege. My impression is that + almost every youngster who has met her has taken a shot. Tommy Alanby + scrambling up from his knees in one of the rose-gardens was a satisfying + sight. His much-talked-of-passion for Jane Lithcom was temporarily in + abeyance.” + </p> + <p> + The rain swirled in a torrent against the window, and casually glancing + outside at the tossing gardens he went on. + </p> + <p> + “She is enjoying herself. Why not? She has the spirit of the + huntress. I don't think she talks nonsense about friendship to the + captives of her bow and spear. She knows she can always get what she + wants. A girl like that MUST have an arrogance of mind. And she is not a + young saint. She is one of the women born with THE LOOK in her eyes. I own + I should not like to be in the place of any primeval poor brute who really + went mad over her—and counted her millions as so much dirt.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan answered with a shrug of his big shoulders: + </p> + <p> + “Apparently he would seem as remote from the reason of to-day as the + men who lived on the land when Hengist and Horsa came—or when Caesar + landed at Deal.” + </p> + <p> + “He would seem as remote to her,” with a shrug also. “I + should not like to contend that his point of view would not interest her + or that she would particularly discourage him. Her eyes would call him—without + malice or intention, no doubt, but your early Briton ceorl or earl would + be as well understood by her. Your New York beauty who has lived in the + market place knows principally the prices of things.” + </p> + <p> + He was not ill pleased with himself. He was putting it well and getting + rather even with her. If this fellow with his shut mouth had a sore spot + hidden anywhere he was giving him “to think.” And he would + find himself thinking, while, whatsoever he thought, he would be obliged + to continue to keep his ugly mouth shut. The great idea was to say things + WITHOUT saying them, to set your hearer's mind to saying them for you. + </p> + <p> + “What strikes one most is a sort of commercial brilliance in her,” + taking up his thread again after a smilingly reflective pause. “It + quite exhilarates one by its novelty. There's spice in it. We English have + not a look-in when we are dealing with Americans, and yet France calls us + a nation of shopkeepers. My impression is that their women take little + inventories of every house they enter, of every man they meet. I heard her + once speaking to my wife about this place, as if she had lived in it. She + spoke of the closed windows and the state of the gardens—of broken + fountains and fallen arches. She evidently deplored the deterioration of + things which represented capital. She has inventoried Dunholm, no doubt. + That will give Westholt a chance. But she will do nothing until after her + next year's season in London—that I'd swear. I look forward to next + year. It will be worth watching. She has been training my wife. A sister + who has married an Englishman and has at least spent some years of her + life in England has a certain established air. When she is presented one + knows she will be a sensation. After that——” he + hesitated a moment, smiling not too pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “After that,” said Mount Dunstan, “the Deluge.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. The Deluge which usually sweeps girls off their feet—but + it will not sweep her off hers. She will stand quite firm in the flood and + lose sight of nothing of importance which floats past.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan took him up. He was sick of hearing the fellow's voice. + </p> + <p> + “There will be a good many things,” he said; “there will + be great personages and small ones, pomps and vanities, glittering things + and heavy ones.” + </p> + <p> + “When she sees what she wants,” said Anstruthers, “she + will hold out her hand, knowing it will come to her. The things which + drown will not disturb her. I once made the blunder of suggesting that she + might need protection against the importunate—as if she had been an + English girl. It was an idiotic thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Because?” Mount Dunstan for the moment had lost his head. + Anstruthers had maddeningly paused. + </p> + <p> + “She answered that if it became necessary she might perhaps be able + to protect herself. She was as cool and frank as a boy. No air pince about + it—merely consciousness of being able to put things in their right + places. Made a mere male relative feel like a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “When ARE things in their right places?” To his credit be it + spoken, Mount Dunstan managed to say it as if in the mere putting together + of idle words. What man likes to be reminded of his right place! No man + wants to be put in his right place. There is always another place which + seems more desirable. + </p> + <p> + “She knows—if we others do not. I suppose my right place is at + Stornham, conducting myself as the brother-in-law of a fair American + should. I suppose yours is here—shut up among your closed corridors + and locked doors. There must be a lot of them in a house like this. Don't + you sometimes feel it too large for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Always,” answered Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + The fact that he added nothing else and met a rapid side glance with + unmoving red-brown eyes gazing out from under rugged brows, perhaps + irritated Anstruthers. He had been rather enjoying himself, but he had not + enjoyed himself enough. There was no denying that his plaything had not + openly flinched. Plainly he was not good at flinching. Anstruthers + wondered how far a man might go. He tried again. + </p> + <p> + “She likes the place, though she has a natural disdain for its + condition. That is practical American. Things which are going to pieces + because money is not spent upon them—mere money, of which all the + people who count for anything have so much—are inevitably rather + disdained. They are 'out of it.' But she likes the estate.” As he + watched Mount Dunstan he felt sure he had got it at last—the right + thing. “If you were a duke with fifty thousand a year,” with a + distinctly nasty, amicably humorous, faint laugh, “she would—by + the Lord, I believe, she would take it over—and you with it.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan got up. In his rough walking tweeds he looked over-big—and + heavy—and perilous. For two seconds Nigel Anstruthers would not have + been surprised if he had without warning slapped his face, or knocked him + over, or whirled him out of his chair and kicked him. He would not have + liked it, but—for two seconds—it would have been no surprise. + In fact, he instinctively braced his not too firm muscles. But nothing of + the sort occurred. During the two seconds—perhaps three—Mount + Dunstan stood still and looked down at him. The brief space at an end, he + walked over to the hearth and stood with his back to the big fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “You don't like her,” he said, and his manner was that of a + man dealing with a matter of fact. “Why do you talk about her?” + </p> + <p> + He had got away again—quite away. + </p> + <p> + An ugly flush shot over Anstruthers' face. There was one more thing to say—whether + it was idiotic to say it or not. Things can always be denied afterwards, + should denial appear necessary—and for the moment his special devil + possessed him. + </p> + <p> + “I do not like her!” And his mouth twisted. “Do I not? I + am not an old woman. I am a man—like others. I chance to like her—too + much.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence. Mount Dunstan broke it. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” he remarked, “you had better emigrate to some + country with a climate which suits you. I should say that England—for + the present—does not.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall stay where I am,” answered Anstruthers, with a slight + hoarseness of voice, which made it necessary for him to clear his throat. + “I shall stay where she is. I will have that satisfaction, at least. + She does not mind. I am only a racketty, middle-aged brother-in-law, and + she can take care of herself. As I told you, she has the spirit of the + huntress.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said Mount Dunstan, quite without haste, and with + an iron civility. “I am going to take the liberty of suggesting + something. If this thing is true, it would be as well not to talk about + it.” + </p> + <p> + “As well for me—or for her?” and there was a serene + significance in the query. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan thought a few seconds. + </p> + <p> + “I confess,” he said slowly, and he planted his fine blow + between the eyes well and with directness. “I confess that it would + not have occurred to me to ask you to do anything or refrain from doing it + for her sake.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Perhaps you are right. One learns that one must protect + one's self. I shall not talk—neither will you. I know that. I was a + fool to let it out. The storm is over. I must ride home.” He rose + from his seat and stood smiling. “It would smash up things nicely if + the new beauty's appearance in the great world were preceded by chatter of + the unseemly affection of some adorer of ill repute. Unfairly enough it is + always the woman who is hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Unless,” said Mount Dunstan civilly, “there should + arise the poor, primeval brute, in his neolithic wrath, to seize on the + man to blame, and break every bone and sinew in his damned body.” + </p> + <p> + “The newspapers would enjoy that more than she would,” + answered Sir Nigel. “She does not like the newspapers. They are too + ready to disparage the multi-millionaire, and cackle about members of his + family.” + </p> + <p> + The unhidden hatred which still professed to hide itself in the depths of + their pupils, as they regarded each other, had its birth in a passion as + elemental as the quakings of the earth, or the rage of two lions in a + desert, lashing their flanks in the blazing sun. It was well that at this + moment they should part ways. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel's horse being brought, he went on the way which was his. + </p> + <p> + “It was a mistake to say what I did,” he said before going. + “I ought to have held my tongue. But I am under the same roof with + her. At any rate, that is a privilege no other man shares with me.” + </p> + <p> + He rode off smartly, his horse's hoofs splashing in the rain pools left in + the avenue after the storm. He was not so sure after all that he had made + a mistake, and for the moment he was not in the mood to care whether he + had made one or not. His agreeable smile showed itself as he thought of + the obstinate, proud brute he had left behind, sitting alone among his + shut doors and closed corridors. They had not shaken hands either at + meeting or parting. Queer thing it was—the kind of enmity a man + could feel for another when he was upset by a woman. It was amusing enough + that it should be she who was upsetting him after all these years—impudent + little Betty, with the ferocious manner. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII + </h2> + <h3> + AT SHANDY'S + </h3> + <p> + On a late-summer evening in New York the atmosphere surrounding a certain + corner table at Shandy's cheap restaurant in Fourteenth Street was stirred + by a sense of excitement. + </p> + <p> + The corner table in question was the favourite meeting place of a group of + young men of the G. Selden type, who usually took possession of it at + dinner time—having decided that Shandy's supplied more decent food + for fifty cents, or even for twenty-five, than was to be found at other + places of its order. Shandy's was “about all right,” they said + to each other, and patronised it accordingly, three or four of them + generally dining together, with a friendly and adroit manipulation of + “portions” and “half portions” which enabled them + to add variety to their bill of fare. + </p> + <p> + The street outside was lighted, the tide of passers-by was less full and + more leisurely in its movements than it was during the seething, working + hours of daylight, but the electric cars swung past each other with whiz + and clang of bell almost unceasingly, their sound being swelled, at short + intervals, by the roar and rumbling rattle of the trains dashing by on the + elevated railroad. This, however, to the frequenters of Shandy's, was the + usual accompaniment of every-day New York life and was regarded as a + rather cheerful sort of thing. + </p> + <p> + This evening the four claimants of the favourite corner table had met + together earlier than usual. Jem Belter, who “hammered” a + typewriter at Schwab's Brewery, Tom Wetherbee, who was “in a + downtown office,” Bert Johnson, who was “out for the Delkoff,” + and Nick Baumgarten, who having for some time “beaten” certain + streets as assistant salesman for the same illustrious machine, had been + recently elevated to a “territory” of his own, and was + therefore in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “Say!” he said. “Let's give him a fine dinner. We can + make it between us. Beefsteak and mushrooms, and potatoes hashed brown. He + likes them. Good old G. S. I shall be right glad to see him. Hope foreign + travel has not given him the swell head.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't believe it's hurt him a bit. His letter didn't sound like it. + Little Georgie ain't a fool,” said Jem Belter. + </p> + <p> + Tom Wetherbee was looking over the letter referred to. It had been written + to the four conjointly, towards the termination of Selden's visit to Mr. + Penzance. The young man was not an ardent or fluent correspondent; but Tom + Wetherbee was chuckling as he read the epistle. + </p> + <p> + “Say, boys,” he said, “this big thing he's keeping back + to tell us when he sees us is all right, but what takes me is old George + paying a visit to a parson. He ain't no Young Men's Christian Association.” + </p> + <p> + Bert Johnson leaned forward, and looked at the address on the letter + paper. + </p> + <p> + “Mount Dunstan Vicarage,” he read aloud. “That looks + pretty swell, doesn't it?” with a laugh. “Say, fellows, you + know Jepson at the office, the chap that prides himself on reading such a + lot? He said it reminded him of the names of places in English novels. + That Johnny's the biggest snob you ever set your tooth into. When I told + him about the lord fellow that owns the castle, and that George seemed to + have seen him, he nearly fell over himself. Never had any use for George + before, but just you watch him make up to him when he sees him next.” + </p> + <p> + People were dropping in and taking seats at the tables. They were all of + one class. Young men who lived in hall bedrooms. Young women who worked in + shops or offices, a couple here and there, who, living far uptown, had + come to Shandy's to dinner, that they might go to cheap seats in some + theatre afterwards. In the latter case, the girls wore their best hats, + had bright eyes, and cheeks lightly flushed by their sense of festivity. + Two or three were very pretty in their thin summer dresses and flowered or + feathered head gear, tilted at picturesque angles over their thick hair. + When each one entered the eyes of the young men at the corner table + followed her with curiosity and interest, but the glances at her escort + were always of a disparaging nature. + </p> + <p> + “There's a beaut!” said Nick Baumgarten. “Get onto that + pink stuff on her hat, will you. She done it because it's just the colour + of her cheeks.” + </p> + <p> + They all looked, and the girl was aware of it, and began to laugh and talk + coquettishly to the young man who was her companion. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder where she got Clarence?” said Jem Belter in + sarcastic allusion to her escort. “The things those lookers have + fastened on to them gets ME.” + </p> + <p> + “If it was one of US, now,” said Bert Johnson. Upon which they + broke into simultaneous good-natured laughter. + </p> + <p> + “It's queer, isn't it,” young Baumgarten put in, “how a + fellow always feels sore when he sees another fellow with a peach like + that? It's just straight human nature, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + The door swung open to admit a newcomer, at the sight of whom Jem Belter + exclaimed joyously: “Good old Georgie! Here he is, fellows! Get on + to his glad rags.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad rags” is supposed to buoyantly describe such attire as, + by its freshness or elegance of style, is rendered a suitable adornment + for festive occasions or loftier leisure moments. “Glad rags” + may mean evening dress, when a young gentleman's wardrobe can aspire to + splendour so marked, but it also applies to one's best and + latest-purchased garb, in contradistinction to the less ornamental + habiliments worn every day, and designated as “office clothes.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden's economies had not enabled him to give himself into the hands + of a Bond Street tailor, but a careful study of cut and material, as + spread before the eye in elegant coloured illustrations in the windows of + respectable shops in less ambitious quarters, had resulted in the purchase + of a well-made suit of smart English cut. He had a nice young figure, and + looked extremely neat and tremendously new and clean, so much so, indeed, + that several persons glanced at him a little admiringly as he was met half + way to the corner table by his friends. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, old chap! Glad to see you. What sort of a voyage? How did + you leave the royal family? Glad to get back?” + </p> + <p> + They all greeted him at once, shaking hands and slapping him on the back, + as they hustled him gleefully back to the corner table and made him sit + down. + </p> + <p> + “Say, garsong,” said Nick Baumgarten to their favourite + waiter, who came at once in answer to his summons, “let's have a + porterhouse steak, half the size of this table, and with plenty of + mushrooms and potatoes hashed brown. Here's Mr. Selden just returned from + visiting at Windsor Castle, and if we don't treat him well, he'll look + down on us.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden grinned. “How have you been getting on, Sam?” he + said, nodding cheerfully to the man. They were old and tried friends. Sam + knew all about the days when a fellow could not come into Shandy's at all, + or must satisfy his strong young hunger with a bowl of soup, or coffee and + a roll. Sam did his best for them in the matter of the size of portions, + and they did their good-natured utmost for him in the affair of the pooled + tip. + </p> + <p> + “Been getting on as well as can be expected,” Sam grinned + back. “Hope you had a fine time, Mr. Selden?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine! I should smile! Fine wasn't in it,” answered Selden. + “But I'm looking forward to a Shandy porterhouse steak, all the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Did they give you a better one in the Strawnd?” asked + Baumgarten, in what he believed to be a correct Cockney accent. + </p> + <p> + “You bet they didn't,” said Selden. “Shandy's takes a + lot of beating.” That last is English. + </p> + <p> + The people at the other tables cast involuntary glances at them. Their + eager, hearty young pleasure in the festivity of the occasion was a + healthy thing to see. As they sat round the corner table, they produced + the effect of gathering close about G. Selden. They concentrated their + combined attention upon him, Belter and Johnson leaning forward on their + folded arms, to watch him as he talked. + </p> + <p> + “Billy Page came back in August, looking pretty bum,” Nick + Baumgarten began. “He'd been painting gay Paree brick red, and he'd + spent more money than he'd meant to, and that wasn't half enough. Landed + dead broke. He said he'd had a great time, but he'd come home with rather + a dark brown taste in his mouth, that he'd like to get rid of.” + </p> + <p> + “He thought you were a fool to go off cycling into the country,” + put in Wetherbee, “but I told him I guessed that was where he was + 'way off. I believed you'd had the best time of the two of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” said Selden, “I had the time of my life.” + He said it almost solemnly, and laid his hand on the table. “It was + like one of those yarns Bert tells us. Half the time I didn't believe it, + and half the time I was ashamed of myself to think it was all happening to + me and none of your fellows were in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” said Jem Belter, “luck chases some fellows, + anyhow. Look at Nick, there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Selden summed the whole thing up, “I just FELL + into it where it was so deep that I had to strike out all I knew how to + keep from drowning.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell us the whole thing,” Nick Baumgarten put in; “from + beginning to end. Your letter didn't give anything away.” + </p> + <p> + “A letter would have spoiled it. I can't write letters anyhow. I + wanted to wait till I got right here with you fellows round where I could + answer questions. First off,” with the deliberation befitting such + an opening, “I've sold machines enough to pay my expenses, and leave + some over.” + </p> + <p> + “You have? Gee whiz! Say, give us your prescription. Glad I know + you, Georgy!” + </p> + <p> + “And who do you suppose bought the first three?” At this + point, it was he who leaned forward upon the table—his climax being + a thing to concentrate upon. “Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter—Miss + Bettina! And, boys, she gave me a letter to Reuben S., himself, and here + it is.” + </p> + <p> + He produced a flat leather pocketbook and took an envelope from an inner + flap, laying it before them on the tablecloth. His knowledge that they + would not have believed him if he had not brought his proof was founded on + everyday facts. They would not have doubted his veracity, but the + possibility of such delirious good fortune. What they would have believed + would have been that he was playing a hilarious joke on them. Jokes of + this kind, but not of this proportion, were common entertainments. + </p> + <p> + Their first impulse had been towards an outburst of laughter, but even + before he produced his letter a certain truthful seriousness in his look + had startled them. When he laid the envelope down each man caught his + breath. It could not be denied that Jem Belter turned pale with emotion. + Jem had never been one of the lucky ones. + </p> + <p> + “She let me read it,” said G. Selden, taking the letter from + its envelope with great care. “And I said to her: 'Miss Vanderpoel, + would you let me just show that to the boys the first night I go to + Shandy's?' I knew she'd tell me if it wasn't all right to do it. She'd + know I'd want to be told. And she just laughed and said: 'I don't mind at + all. I like “the boys.” Here is a message to them. “Good + luck to you all.”'” + </p> + <p> + “She said that?” from Nick Baumgarten. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she did, and she meant it. Look at this.” + </p> + <p> + This was the letter. It was quite short, and written in a clear, definite + hand. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR FATHER: This will be brought to you by Mr. G. Selden, of whom + I have written to you. Please be good to him. + </p> + <p> + “Affectionately, + </p> + <p> + “BETTY.” + </p> + <p> + Each young man read it in turn. None of them said anything just at first. + A kind of awe had descended upon them—not in the least awe of + Vanderpoel, who, with other multi-millionaires, were served up each week + with cheerful neighbourly comment or equally neighbourly disrespect, in + huge Sunday papers read throughout the land—but awe of the unearthly + luck which had fallen without warning to good old G. S., who lived like + the rest of them in a hall bedroom on ten per, earned by tramping the + streets for the Delkoff. + </p> + <p> + “That girl,” said G. Selden gravely, “that girl is a + winner from Winnersville. I take off my hat to her. If it's the scheme + that some people's got to have millions, and others have got to sell + Delkoffs, that girl's one of those that's entitled to the millions. It's + all right she should have 'em. There's no kick coming from me.” + </p> + <p> + Nick Baumgarten was the first to resume wholly normal condition of mind. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess after you've told us about her there'll be no kick + coming from any of us. Of course there's something about you that royal + families cry for, and they won't be happy till they get. All of us boys + knows that. But what we want to find out is how you worked it so that they + saw the kind of pearl-studded hairpin you were.” + </p> + <p> + “Worked it!” Selden answered. “I didn't work it. I've + got a good bit of nerve, but I never should have had enough to invent what + happened—just HAPPENED. I broke my leg falling off my bike, and fell + right into a whole bunch of them—earls and countesses and viscounts + and Vanderpoels. And it was Miss Vanderpoel who saw me first lying on the + ground. And I was in Stornham Court where Lady Anstruthers lives—and + she used to be Miss Rosalie Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” said Bert Johnson, with friendly disgust, “he's + been up to his neck in 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up. The worst is yet to come,” chaffed Tom Wetherbee. + </p> + <p> + Never had such a dinner taken place at the corner table, or, in fact, at + any other table at Shandy's. Sam brought beefsteaks, which were princely, + mushrooms, and hashed brown potatoes in portions whose generosity reached + the heart. Sam was on good terms with Shandy's carver, and had worked upon + his nobler feelings. Steins of lager beer were ventured upon. There was + hearty satisfying of fine hungers. Two of the party had eaten nothing but + one “Quick Lunch” throughout the day, one of them because he + was short of time, the other for economy's sake, because he was short of + money. The meal was a splendid thing. The telling of the story could not + be wholly checked by the eating of food. It advanced between mouthfuls, + questions being asked and details given in answers. Shandy's became more + crowded, as the hour advanced. People all over the room cast interested + looks at the party at the corner table, enjoying itself so hugely. Groups + sitting at the tables nearest to it found themselves excited by the things + they heard. + </p> + <p> + “That young fellow in the new suit has just come back from Europe,” + said a man to his wife and daughter. “He seems to have had a good + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa,” the daughter leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice, + “I heard him say 'Lord Mount Dunstan said Lady Anstruthers and Miss + Vanderpoel were at the garden party.' Who do you suppose he is?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he's a nice young fellow, and he has English clothes on, but + he doesn't look like one of the Four Hundred. Will you have pie or vanilla + ice cream, Bessy?” + </p> + <p> + Bessy—who chose vanilla ice cream—lost all knowledge of its + flavour in her absorption in the conversation at the next table, which she + could not have avoided hearing, even if she had wished. + </p> + <p> + “She bent over the bed and laughed—just like any other nice + girl—and she said, 'You are at Stornham Court, which belongs to Sir + Nigel Anstruthers. Lady Anstruthers is my sister. I am Miss Vanderpoel.' + And, boys, she used to come and talk to me every day.” + </p> + <p> + “George,” said Nick Baumgarten, “you take about + seventy-five bottles of Warner's Safe Cure, and rub yourself all over with + St. Jacob's Oil. Luck like that ain't HEALTHY!” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderpoel, sitting in his study, wore the interestedly grave look of + a man thinking of absorbing things. He had just given orders that a young + man who would call in the course of the evening should be brought to him + at once, and he was incidentally considering this young man, as he + reflected upon matters recalled to his mind by his impending arrival. They + were matters he had thought of with gradually increasing seriousness for + some months, and they had, at first, been the result of the letters from + Stornham, which each “steamer day” brought. They had been of + immense interest to him—these letters. He would have found them + absorbing as a study, even if he had not deeply loved Betty. He read in + them things she did not state in words, and they set him thinking. + </p> + <p> + He was not suspected by men like himself of concealing an imagination + beneath the trained steadiness of his exterior, but he possessed more than + the world knew, and it singularly combined itself with powers of logical + deduction. + </p> + <p> + If he had been with his daughter, he would have seen, day by day, where + her thoughts were leading her, and in what direction she was developing, + but, at a distance of three thousand miles, he found himself asking + questions, and endeavouring to reach conclusions. His affection for Betty + was the central emotion of his existence. He had never told himself that + he had outgrown the kind and pretty creature he had married in his early + youth, and certainly his tender care for her and pleasure in her simple + goodness had never wavered, but Betty had given him a companionship which + had counted greatly in the sum of his happiness. Because imagination was + not suspected in him, no one knew what she stood for in his life. He had + no son; he stood at the head of a great house, so to speak—the + American parallel of what a great house is in non-republican countries. + The power of it counted for great things, not in America alone, but + throughout the world. As international intimacies increased, the influence + of such houses might end in aiding in the making of history. Enormous + constantly increasing wealth and huge financial schemes could not confine + their influence, but must reach far. The man whose hand held the lever + controlling them was doing well when he thought of them gravely. Such a + man had to do with more than his own mere life and living. This man had + confronted many problems as the years had passed. He had seen men like + himself die, leaving behind them the force they had controlled, and he had + seen this force—controlled no longer—let loose upon the world, + sometimes a power of evil, sometimes scattering itself aimlessly into + nothingness and folly, which wrought harm. He was not an ambitious man, + but—perhaps because he was not only a man of thought, but a + Vanderpoel of the blood of the first Reuben—these were things he did + not contemplate without restlessness. When Rosy had gone away and seemed + lost to them, he had been glad when he had seen Betty growing, day by day, + into a strong thing. Feminine though she was, she sometimes suggested to + him the son who might have been his, but was not. As the closeness of + their companionship increased with her years, his admiration for her grew + with his love. Power left in her hands must work for the advancement of + things, and would not be idly disseminated—if no antagonistic + influence wrought against her. He had found himself reflecting that, after + all was said, the marriage of such a girl had a sort of parallel in that + of some young royal creature, whose union might make or mar things, which + must be considered. The man who must inevitably strongly colour her whole + being, and vitally mark her life, would, in a sense, lay his hand upon the + lever also. If he brought sorrow and disorder with him, the lever would + not move steadily. Fortunes such as his grow rapidly, and he was a richer + man by millions than he had been when Rosalie had married Nigel + Anstruthers. The memory of that marriage had been a painful thing to him, + even before he had known the whole truth of its results. The man had been + a common adventurer and scoundrel, despite the facts of good birth and the + air of decent breeding. If a man who was as much a scoundrel, but cleverer—it + would be necessary that he should be much cleverer—made the best of + himself to Betty——! It was folly to think one could guess what + a woman—or a man, either, for that matter—would love. He knew + Betty, but no man knows the thing which comes, as it were, in the dark and + claims its own—whether for good or evil. He had lived long enough to + see beautiful, strong-spirited creatures do strange things, follow strange + gods, swept away into seas of pain by strange waves. + </p> + <p> + “Even Betty,” he had said to himself, now and then. “Even + my Betty. Good God—who knows!” + </p> + <p> + Because of this, he had read each letter with keen eyes. They were long + letters, full of detail and colour, because she knew he enjoyed them. She + had a delightful touch. He sometimes felt as if they walked the English + lanes together. His intimacy with her neighbours, and her neighbourhood, + was one of his relaxations. He found himself thinking of old Doby and Mrs. + Welden, as a sort of soporific measure, when he lay awake at night. She + had sent photographs of Stornham, of Dunholm Castle, and of Dole, and had + even found an old engraving of Lady Alanby in her youth. Her evident + liking for the Dunholms had pleased him. They were people whose dignity + and admirableness were part of general knowledge. Lord Westholt was + plainly a young man of many attractions. If the two were drawn to each + other—and what more natural—all would be well. He wondered if + it would be Westholt. But his love quickened a sagacity which needed no + stimulus. He said to himself in time that, though she liked and admired + Westholt, she went no farther. That others paid court to her he could + guess without being told. He had seen the effect she had produced when she + had been at home, and also an unexpected letter to his wife from Milly + Bowen had revealed many things. Milly, having noted Mrs. Vanderpoel's + eager anxiety to hear direct news of Lady Anstruthers, was not the person + to let fall from her hand a useful thread of connection. She had written + quite at length, managing adroitly to convey all that she had seen, and + all that she had heard. She had been making a visit within driving + distance of Stornham, and had had the pleasure of meeting both Lady + Anstruthers and Miss Vanderpoel at various parties. She was so sure that + Mrs. Vanderpoel would like to hear how well Lady Anstruthers was looking, + that she ventured to write. Betty's effect upon the county was made quite + clear, as also was the interested expectation of her appearance in town + next season. Mr. Vanderpoel, perhaps, gathered more from the letter than + his wife did. In her mind, relieved happiness and consternation were + mingled. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think, Reuben, that Betty will marry that Lord Westholt?” + she rather faltered. “He seems very nice, but I would rather she + married an American. I should feel as if I had no girls at all, if they + both lived in England.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Bowen gives him a good character,” her husband said, + smiling. “But if anything untoward happens, Annie, you shall have a + house of your own half way between Dunholm Castle and Stornham Court.” + </p> + <p> + When he had begun to decide that Lord Westholt did not seem to be the man + Fate was veering towards, he not unnaturally cast a mental eye over such + other persons as the letters mentioned. At exactly what period his thought + first dwelt a shade anxiously on Mount Dunstan he could not have told, but + he at length became conscious that it so dwelt. He had begun by feeling an + interest in his story, and had asked questions about him, because a + situation such as his suggested query to a man of affairs. Thus, it had + been natural that the letters should speak of him. What she had written + had recalled to him certain rumours of the disgraceful old scandal. Yes, + they had been a bad lot. He arranged to put a casual-sounding question or + so to certain persons who knew English society well. What he gathered was + not encouraging. The present Lord Mount Dunstan was considered rather a + surly brute, and lived a mysterious sort of life which might cover many + things. It was bad blood, and people were naturally shy of it. Of course, + the man was a pauper, and his place a barrack falling to ruin. There had + been something rather shady in his going to America or Australia a few + years ago. + </p> + <p> + Good looking? Well, so few people had seen him. The lady, who was + speaking, had heard that he was one of those big, rather lumpy men, and + had an ill-tempered expression. She always gave a wide berth to a man who + looked nasty-tempered. One or two other persons who had spoken of him had + conveyed to Mr. Vanderpoel about the same amount of vaguely unpromising + information. The episode of G. Selden had been interesting enough, with + its suggestions of picturesque contrasts and combinations. Betty's touch + had made the junior salesman attracting. It was a good type this, of a + young fellow who, battling with the discouragements of a hard life, still + did not lose his amazing good cheer and patience, and found healthy sleep + and honest waking, even in the hall bedroom. He had consented to Betty's + request that he would see him, partly because he was inclined to like what + he had heard, and partly for a reason which Betty did not suspect. By + extraordinary chance G. Selden had seen Mount Dunstan and his surroundings + at close range. Mr. Vanderpoel had liked what he had gathered of Mount + Dunstan's attitude towards a personality so singularly exotic to himself. + Crude, uneducated, and slangy, the junior salesman was not in any degree a + fool. To an American father with a daughter like Betty, the summing-up of + a normal, nice-natured, common young denizen of the United States, fresh + from contact with the effete, might be subtly instructive, and well worth + hearing, if it was unconsciously expressed. Mr. Vanderpoel thought he knew + how, after he had overcome his visitor's first awkwardness—if he + chanced to be self-conscious—he could lead him to talk. What he + hoped to do was to make him forget himself and begin to talk to him as he + had talked to Betty, to ingenuously reveal impressions and points of view. + Young men of his clean, rudimentary type were very definite about the + things they liked and disliked, and could be trusted to reveal admiration, + or lack of it, without absolute intention or actual statement. Being + elemental and undismayed, they saw things cleared of the mists of social + prejudice and modification. Yes, he felt he should be glad to hear of Lord + Mount Dunstan and the Mount Dunstan estate from G. Selden in a happy + moment of unawareness. + </p> + <p> + Why was it that it happened to be Mount Dunstan he was desirous to hear + of? Well, the absolute reason for that he could not have explained, + either. He had asked himself questions on the subject more than once. + There was no well-founded reason, perhaps. If Betty's letters had spoken + of Mount Dunstan and his home, they had also described Lord Westholt and + Dunholm Castle. Of these two men she had certainly spoken more fully than + of others. Of Mount Dunstan she had had more to relate through the + incident of G. Selden. He smiled as he realised the importance of the + figure of G. Selden. It was Selden and his broken leg the two men had + ridden over from Mount Dunstan to visit. But for Selden, Betty might not + have met Mount Dunstan again. He was reason enough for all she had said. + And yet——! Perhaps, between Betty and himself there existed + the thing which impresses and communicates without words. Perhaps, because + their affection was unusual, they realised each other's emotions. The + half-defined anxiety he felt now was not a new thing, but he confessed to + himself that it had been spurred a little by the letter the last steamer + had brought him. It was NOT Lord Westholt, it definitely appeared. He had + asked her to be his wife, and she had declined his proposal. + </p> + <p> + “I could not have LIKED a man any more without being in love with + him,” she wrote. “I LIKE him more than I can say—so + much, indeed, that I feel a little depressed by my certainty that I do not + love him.” + </p> + <p> + If she had loved him, the whole matter would have been simplified. If the + other man had drawn her, the thing would not be simple. Her father foresaw + all the complications—and he did not want complications for Betty. + Yet emotions were perverse and irresistible things, and the stronger the + creature swayed by them, the more enormous their power. But, as he sat in + his easy chair and thought over it all, the one feeling predominant in his + mind was that nothing mattered but Betty—nothing really mattered but + Betty. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime G. Selden was walking up Fifth Avenue, at once touched and + exhilarated by the stir about him and his sense of home-coming. It was + pretty good to be in little old New York again. The hurried pace of the + life about him stimulated his young blood. There were no street cars in + Fifth Avenue, but there were carriages, waggons, carts, motors, all + pantingly hurried, and fretting and struggling when the crowded state of + the thoroughfare held them back. The beautifully dressed women in the + carriages wore no light air of being at leisure. It was evident that they + were going to keep engagements, to do things, to achieve objects. + </p> + <p> + “Something doing. Something doing,” was his cheerful + self-congratulatory thought. He had spent his life in the midst of it, he + liked it, and it welcomed him back. + </p> + <p> + The appointment he was on his way to keep thrilled him into an uplifted + mood. Once or twice a half-nervous chuckle broke from him as he tried to + realise that he had been given the chance which a year ago had seemed so + impossible that its mere incredibleness had made it a natural subject for + jokes. He was going to call on Reuben S. Vanderpoel, and he was going + because Reuben S. had made an appointment with him. + </p> + <p> + He wore his London suit of clothes and he felt that he looked pretty + decent. He could only do his best in the matter of bearing. He always + thought that, so long as a fellow didn't get “chesty” and kept + his head from swelling, he was all right. Of course he had never been in + one of these swell Fifth Avenue houses, and he felt a bit nervous—but + Miss Vanderpoel would have told her father what sort of fellow he was, and + her father was likely to be something like herself. The house, which had + been built since Lady Anstruthers' marriage, was well “up-town,” + and was big and imposing. When a manservant opened the front door, the + square hall looked very splendid to Selden. It was full of light, and of + rich furniture, which was like the stuff he had seen in one or two special + shop windows in Fifth Avenue—places where they sold magnificent + gilded or carven coffers and vases, pieces of tapestry and marvellous + embroideries, antiquities from foreign palaces. Though it was quite + different, it was as swell in its way as the house at Mount Dunstan, and + there were gleams of pictures on the walls that looked fine, and no + mistake. + </p> + <p> + He was expected. The man led him across the hall to Mr. Vanderpoel's room. + After he had announced his name he closed the door quietly and went away. + Mr. Vanderpoel rose from an armchair to come forward to meet his visitor. + He was tall and straight—Betty had inherited her slender height from + him. His well-balanced face suggested the relationship between them. He + had a steady mouth, and eyes which looked as if they saw much and far. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you, Mr. Selden,” he said, shaking hands + with him. “You have seen my daughters, and can tell me how they are. + Miss Vanderpoel has written to me of you several times.” + </p> + <p> + He asked him to sit down, and as he took his chair Selden felt that he had + been right in telling himself that Reuben S. Vanderpoel would be somehow + like his girl. She was a girl, and he was an elderly man of business, but + they were like each other. There was the same kind of straight way of + doing things, and the same straight-seeing look in both of them. + </p> + <p> + It was queer how natural things seemed, when they really happened to a + fellow. Here he was sitting in a big leather chair and opposite to him in + its fellow sat Reuben S. Vanderpoel, looking at him with friendly eyes. + And it seemed all right, too—not as if he had managed to “butt + in,” and would find himself politely fired out directly. He might + have been one of the Four Hundred making a call. Reuben S. knew how to + make a man feel easy, and no mistake. This G. Selden observed at once, + though he had, in fact, no knowledge of the practical tact which dealt + with him. He found himself answering questions about Lady Anstruthers and + her sister, which led to the opening up of other subjects. He did not + realise that he began to express ingenuous opinions and describe things. + His listener's interest led him on, a question here, a rather pleased + laugh there, were encouraging. He had enjoyed himself so much during his + stay in England, and had felt his experiences so greatly to be rejoiced + over, that they were easy to talk of at any time—in fact, it was + even a trifle difficult not to talk of them—but, stimulated by the + look which rested on him, by the deft word and ready smile, words flowed + readily and without the restraint of self-consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “When you think that all of it sort of began with a robin, it's + queer enough,” he said. “But for that robin I shouldn't be + here, sir,” with a boyish laugh. “And he was an English robin—a + little fellow not half the size of the kind that hops about Central Park.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me hear about that,” said Mr. Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + It was a good story, and he told it well, though in his own junior + salesman phrasing. He began with his bicycle ride into the green country, + his spin over the fine roads, his rest under the hedge during the shower, + and then the song of the robin perched among the fresh wet leafage, his + feathers puffed out, his red young satin-glossed breast pulsating and + swelling. His words were colloquial enough, but they called up the + picture. + </p> + <p> + “Everything sort of glittering with the sunshine on the wet drops, + and things smelling good, like they do after rain—leaves, and grass, + and good earth. I tell you it made a fellow feel as if the whole world was + his brother. And when Mr. Rob. lit on that twig and swelled his red breast + as if he knew the whole thing was his, and began to let them notes out, + calling for his lady friend to come and go halves with him, I just had to + laugh and speak to him, and that was when Lord Mount Dunstan heard me and + jumped over the hedge. He'd been listening, too.” + </p> + <p> + The expression Reuben S. Vanderpoel wore made it an agreeable thing to + talk—to go on. He evidently cared to hear. So Selden did his best, + and enjoyed himself in doing it. His style made for realism and brought + things clearly before one. The big-built man in the rough and shabby + shooting clothes, his way when he dropped into the grass to sit beside the + stranger and talk, certain meanings in his words which conveyed to + Vanderpoel what had not been conveyed to G. Selden. Yes, the man carried a + heaviness about with him and hated the burden. Selden quite unconsciously + brought him out strongly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know whether I'm the kind of fellow who is always making + breaks,” he said, with his boy's laugh again, “but if I am, I + never made a worse one than when I asked him straight if he was out of a + job, and on the tramp. It showed what a nice fellow he was that he didn't + get hot about it. Some fellows would. He only laughed—sort of short—and + said his job had been more than he could handle, and he was afraid he was + down and out.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderpoel was conscious that so far he was somewhat attracted by this + central figure. G. Selden was also proving satisfactory in the matter of + revealing his excellently simple views of persons and things. + </p> + <p> + “The only time he got mad was when I wouldn't believe him when he + told me who he was. I was a bit hot in the collar myself. I'd felt sorry + for him, because I thought he was a chap like myself, and he was up + against it. I know what that is, and I'd wanted to jolly him along a bit. + When he said his name was Mount Dunstan, and the place belonged to him, I + guessed he thought he was making a joke. So I got on my wheel and started + off, and then he got mad for keeps. He said he wasn't such a damned fool + as he looked, and what he'd said was true, and I could go and be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + Reuben S. Vanderpoel laughed. He liked that. It sounded like decent + British hot temper, which he had often found accompanied honest British + decencies. + </p> + <p> + He liked other things, as the story proceeded. The picture of the huge + house with the shut windows, made him slightly restless. The concealed + imagination, combined with the financier's resentment of dormant + interests, disturbed him. That which had attracted Selden in the Reverend + Lewis Penzance strongly attracted himself. Also, a man was a good deal to + be judged by his friends. The man who lived alone in the midst of stately + desolateness and held as his chief intimate a high-bred and gentle-minded + scholar of ripe years, gave, in doing this, certain evidence which did not + tell against him. The whole situation meant something a splendid, + vivid-minded young creature might be moved by—might be allured by, + even despite herself. + </p> + <p> + There was something fantastic in the odd linking of incidents—Selden's + chance view of Betty as she rode by, his next day's sudden resolve to turn + back and go to Stornham, his accident, all that followed seemed, if one + were fanciful—part of a scheme prearranged + </p> + <p> + “When I came to myself,” G. Selden said, “I felt like + that fellow in the Shakespeare play that they dress up and put to bed in + the palace when he's drunk. I thought I'd gone off my head. And then Miss + Vanderpoel came.” He paused a moment and looked down on the carpet, + thinking. “Gee whiz! It WAS queer,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Betty Vanderpoel's father could almost hear her voice as the rest was + told. He knew how her laugh had sounded, and what her presence must have + been to the young fellow. His delightful, human, always satisfying Betty! + </p> + <p> + Through this odd trick of fortune, Mount Dunstan had begun to see her. + Since, through the unfair endowment of Nature—that it was not wholly + fair he had often told himself—she was all the things that desire + could yearn for, there were many chances that when a man saw her he must + long to see her again, and there were the same chances that such an one as + Mount Dunstan might long also, and, if Fate was against him, long with a + bitter strength. Selden was not aware that he had spoken more fully of + Mount Dunstan and his place than of other things. That this had been the + case, had been because Mr. Vanderpoel had intended it should be so. He had + subtly drawn out and encouraged a detailed account of the time spent at + Mount Dunstan vicarage. It was easily encouraged. Selden's affectionate + admiration for the vicar led him on to enthusiasm. The quiet house and + garden, the old books, the afternoon tea under the copper beech, and the + long talks of old things, which had been so new to the young New Yorker, + had plainly made a mark upon his life, not likely to be erased even by the + rush of after years. + </p> + <p> + “The way he knew history was what got me,” he said. “And + the way you got interested in it, when he talked. It wasn't just HISTORY, + like you learn at school, and forget, and never see the use of, anyhow. It + was things about men, just like yourself—hustling for a living in + their way, just as we're hustling in Broadway. Most of it was fighting, + and there are mounds scattered about that are the remains of their forts + and camps. Roman camps, some of them. He took me to see them. He had a + little old pony chaise we trundled about in, and he'd draw up and we'd sit + and talk. 'There were men here on this very spot,' he'd say, 'looking out + for attack, eating, drinking, cooking their food, polishing their weapons, + laughing, and shouting—MEN—Selden, fifty-five years before + Christ was born—and sometimes the New Testament times seem to us so + far away that they are half a dream.' That was the kind of thing he'd say, + and I'd sometimes feel as if I heard the Romans shouting. The country + about there was full of queer places, and both he and Lord Dunstan knew + more about them than I know about Twenty-third Street.” + </p> + <p> + “You saw Lord Mount Dunstan often?” Mr. Vanderpoel suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Every day, sir. And the more I saw him, the more I got to like him. + He's all right. But it's hard luck to be fixed as he is—that's + stone-cold truth. What's a man to do? The money he ought to have to keep + up his place was spent before he was born. His father and his eldest + brother were a bum lot, and his grandfather and great-grandfather were + fools. He can't sell the place, and he wouldn't if he could. Mr. Penzance + was so fond of him that sometimes he'd say things. But,” hastily, + “perhaps I'm talking too much.” + </p> + <p> + “You happen to be talking about questions I have been greatly + interested in. I have thought a good deal at times of the position of the + holders of large estates they cannot afford to keep up. This special + instance is a case in point.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden felt himself in luck again. Reuben S., quite evidently, found + his subject worthy of undivided attention. Selden had not heartily liked + Lord Mount Dunstan, and lived in the atmosphere surrounding him, looking + about him with sharp young New York eyes, without learning a good deal. + </p> + <p> + He had seen the practical hardship of the situation, and laid it bare. + </p> + <p> + “What Mr. Penzance says is that he's like the men that built things + in the beginning—fought for them—fought Romans and Saxons and + Normans—perhaps the whole lot at different times. I used to like to + get Mr. Penzance to tell stories about the Mount Dunstans. They were + splendid. It must be pretty fine to look back about a thousand years and + know your folks have been something. All the same its pretty fierce to + have to stand alone at the end of it, not able to help yourself, because + some of your relations were crazy fools. I don't wonder he feels mad.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he?” Mr. Vanderpoel inquired. + </p> + <p> + “He's straight,” said G. Selden sympathetically. “He's + all right. But only money can help him, and he's got none, so he has to + stand and stare at things falling to pieces. And—well, I tell you, + Mr. Vanderpoel, he LOVES that place—he's crazy about it. And he's + proud—I don't mean he's got the swell-head, because he hasn't—but + he's just proud. Now, for instance, he hasn't any use for men like himself + that marry just for money. He's seen a lot of it, and it's made him sick. + He's not that kind.” + </p> + <p> + He had been asked and had answered a good many questions before he went + away, but each had dropped into the talk so incidentally that he had not + recognised them as queries. He did not know that Lord Mount Dunstan stood + out a clearly defined figure in Mr. Vanderpoel's mind, a figure to be + reflected upon, and one not without its attraction. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Vanderpoel tells me,” Mr. Vanderpoel said, when the + interview was drawing to a close, “that you are an agent for the + Delkoff typewriter.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden flushed slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” he answered, “but I didn't——” + </p> + <p> + “I hear that three machines are in use on the Stornham estate, and + that they have proved satisfactory.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a good machine,” said G. Selden, his flush a little + deeper. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderpoel smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You are a business-like young man,” he said, “and I + have no doubt you have a catalogue in your pocket.” + </p> + <p> + G. Selden was a business-like young man. He gave Mr. Vanderpoel one + serious look, and the catalogue was drawn forth. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't be business, sir, for me to be caught out without it,” + he said. “I shouldn't leave it behind if I went to a funeral. A + man's got to run no risks.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to look at it.” + </p> + <p> + The thing had happened. It was not a dream. Reuben S. Vanderpoel, clothed + and in his right mind, had, without pressure being exerted upon him, + expressed his desire to look at the catalogue—to examine it—to + have it explained to him at length. + </p> + <p> + He listened attentively, while G. Selden did his best. He asked a question + now and then, or made a comment. His manner was that of a thoroughly + composed man of business, but he was remembering what Betty had told him + of the “ten per,” and a number of other things. He saw the + flush come and go under the still boyish skin, he observed that G. + Selden's hand was not wholly steady, though he was making an effort not to + seem excited. But he was excited. This actually meant—this thing so + unimportant to multi-millionaires—that he was having his “chance,” + and his young fortunes were, perhaps, in the balance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Reuben S., when he had finished, “it seems a + good, up-to-date machine.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the best on the market,” said G. Selden, “out and + out, the best.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand you are only junior salesman?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Ten per and five dollars on every machine I sell. If I + had a territory, I should get ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” reflectively, “the first thing is to get a + territory.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I shall get one in time, if I keep at it,” said + Selden courageously. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good machine. I like it,” said Mr. Vanderpoel. + “I can see a good many places where it could be used. Perhaps, if + you make it known at your office that when you are given a good territory, + I shall give preference to the Delkoff over other typewriting machines, it + might—eh?” + </p> + <p> + A light broke out upon G. Selden's countenance—a light radiant and + magnificent. He caught his breath. A desire to shout—to yell—to + whoop, as when in the society of “the boys,” was barely + conquered in time. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vanderpoel,” he said, standing up, “I—Mr. + Vanderpoel—sir—I feel as if I was having a pipe dream. I'm + not, am I?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Mr. Vanderpoel, “you are not. I like you, + Mr. Selden. My daughter liked you. I do not mean to lose sight of you. We + will begin, however, with the territory, and the Delkoff. I don't think + there will be any difficulty about it.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later G. Selden was walking down Fifth Avenue, wondering if + there was any chance of his being arrested by a policeman upon the charge + that he was reeling, instead of walking steadily. He hoped he should get + back to the hall bedroom safely. Nick Baumgarten and Jem Bolter both + “roomed” in the house with him. He could tell them both. It + was Jem who had made up the yarn about one of them saving Reuben S. + Vanderpoel's life. There had been no life-saving, but the thing had come + true. + </p> + <p> + “But, if it hadn't been for Lord Mount Dunstan,” he said, + thinking it over excitedly, “I should never have seen Miss + Vanderpoel, and, if it hadn't been for Miss Vanderpoel, I should never + have got next to Reuben S. in my life. Both sides of the Atlantic Ocean + got busy to do a good turn to Little Willie. Hully gee!” + </p> + <p> + In his study Mr. Vanderpoel was rereading Betty's letters. He felt that he + had gained a certain knowledge of Lord Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIX + </h2> + <h3> + ON THE MARSHES + </h3> + <p> + THE marshes stretched mellow in the autumn sun, sheep wandered about, + nibbling contentedly, or lay down to rest in groups, the sky reflecting + itself in the narrow dykes gave a blue colour to the water, a scent of the + sea was in the air as one breathed it, flocks of plover rose, now and + then, crying softly. Betty, walking with her dog, had passed a heron + standing at the edge of a pool. + </p> + <p> + From her first discovery of them, she had been attracted by the marshes + with their English suggestion of the Roman Campagna, their broad expanse + of level land spread out to the sun and wind, the thousands of white sheep + dotted or clustered as far as eye could reach, the hues of the marsh grass + and the plants growing thick at the borders of the strips of water. Its + beauty was all its own and curiously aloof from the softly-wooded, + undulating world about it. Driving or walking along the high road—the + road the Romans had built to London town long centuries ago—on + either side of one were meadows, farms, scattered cottages, and hop + gardens, but beyond and below stretched the marsh land, golden and grey, + and always alluring one by its silence. + </p> + <p> + “I never pass it without wanting to go to it—to take solitary + walks over it, to be one of the spots on it as the sheep are. It seems as + if, lying there under the blue sky or the low grey clouds with all the + world held at bay by mere space and stillness, they must feel something we + know nothing of. I want to go and find out what it is.” + </p> + <p> + This she had once said to Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + So she had fallen into the habit of walking there with her dog at her side + as her sole companion, for having need for time and space for thought, she + had found them in the silence and aloofness. + </p> + <p> + Life had been a vivid and pleasurable thing to her, as far as she could + look back upon it. She began to realise that she must have been very + happy, because she had never found herself desiring existence other than + such as had come to her day by day. Except for her passionate childish + regret at Rosy's marriage, she had experienced no painful feeling. In + fact, she had faced no hurt in her life, and certainly had been confronted + by no limitations. Arguing that girls in their teens usually fall in love, + her father had occasionally wondered that she passed through no little + episodes of sentiment, but the fact was that her interests had been larger + and more numerous than the interests of girls generally are, and her + affectionate intimacy with himself had left no such small vacant spaces as + are frequently filled by unimportant young emotions. Because she was a + logical creature, and had watched life and those living it with clear and + interested eyes, she had not been blind to the path which had marked + itself before her during the summer's growth and waning. She had not, at + first, perhaps, known exactly when things began to change for her—when + the clarity of her mind began to be disturbed. She had thought in the + beginning—as people have a habit of doing—that an instance—a + problem—a situation had attracted her attention because it was + absorbing enough to think over. Her view of the matter had been that as + the same thing would have interested her father, it had interested + herself. But from the morning when she had been conscious of the sudden + fury roused in her by Nigel Anstruthers' ugly sneer at Mount Dunstan, she + had better understood the thing which had come upon her. Day by day it had + increased and gathered power, and she realised with a certain sense of + impatience that she had not in any degree understood it when she had seen + and wondered at its effect on other women. Each day had been like a wave + encroaching farther upon the shore she stood upon. At the outset a certain + ignoble pride—she knew it ignoble—filled her with rebellion. + She had seen so much of this kind of situation, and had heard so much of + the general comment. People had learned how to sneer because experience + had taught them. If she gave them cause, why should they not sneer at her + as at things? She recalled what she had herself thought of such things—the + folly of them, the obviousness—the almost deserved disaster. She had + arrogated to herself judgment of women—and men—who might, yes, + who might have stood upon their strip of sand, as she stood, with the + waves creeping in, each one higher, stronger, and more engulfing than the + last. There might have been those among them who also had knowledge of + that sudden deadly joy at the sight of one face, at the drop of one voice. + When that wave submerged one's pulsing being, what had the world to do + with one—how could one hear and think of what its speech might be? + Its voice clamoured too far off. + </p> + <p> + As she walked across the marsh she was thinking this first phase over. She + had reached a new one, and at first she looked back with a faint, even + rather hard, smile. She walked straight ahead, her mastiff, Roland, + padding along heavily close at her side. How still and wide and golden it + was; how the cry of plover and lifting trill of skylark assured one that + one was wholly encircled by solitude and space which were more enclosing + than any walls! She was going to the mounds to which Mr. Penzance had + trundled G. Selden in the pony chaise, when he had given him the + marvellous hour which had brought Roman camp and Roman legions to life + again. Up on the largest hillock one could sit enthroned, resting chin in + hand and looking out under level lids at the unstirring, softly-living + loveliness of the marsh-land world. So she was presently seated, with her + heavy-limbed Roland at her feet. She had come here to try to put things + clearly to herself, to plan with such reason as she could control. She had + begun to be unhappy, she had begun—with some unfairness—to + look back upon the Betty Vanderpoel of the past as an unwittingly + self-sufficient young woman, to find herself suddenly entangled by things, + even to know a touch of desperateness. + </p> + <p> + “Not to take a remnant from the ducal bargain counter,” she + was saying mentally. That was why her smile was a little hard. What if the + remnant from the ducal bargain counter had prejudices of his own? + </p> + <p> + “If he were passionately—passionately in love with me,” + she said, with red staining her cheeks, “he would not come—he + would not come—he would not come. And, because of that, he is more + to me—MORE! And more he will become every day—and the more + strongly he will hold me. And there we stand.” + </p> + <p> + Roland lifted his fine head from his paws, and, holding it erect on a + stiff, strong neck, stared at her in obvious inquiry. She put out her hand + and tenderly patted him. + </p> + <p> + “He will have none of me,” she said. “He will have none + of me.” And she faintly smiled, but the next instant shook her head + a little haughtily, and, having done so, looked down with an altered + expression upon the cloth of her skirt, because she had shaken upon it, + from the extravagant lashes, two clear drops. + </p> + <p> + It was not the result of chance that she had seen nothing of him for + weeks. She had not attempted to persuade herself of that. Twice he had + declined an invitation to Stornham, and once he had ridden past her on the + road when he might have stopped to exchange greetings, or have ridden on + by her side. He did not mean to seem to desire, ever so lightly, to be + counted as in the lists. Whether he was drawn by any liking for her or + not, it was plain he had determined on this. + </p> + <p> + If she were to go away now, they would never meet again. Their ways in + this world would part forever. She would not know how long it took to + break him utterly—if such a man could be broken. If no magic change + took place in his fortunes—and what change could come?—the + decay about him would spread day by day. Stone walls last a long time, so + the house would stand while every beauty and stateliness within it fell + into ruin. Gardens would become wildernesses, terraces and fountains + crumble and be overgrown, walls that were to-day leaning would fall with + time. The years would pass, and his youth with them; he would gradually + change into an old man while he watched the things he loved with passion + die slowly and hard. How strange it was that lives should touch and pass + on the ocean of Time, and nothing should result—nothing at all! When + she went on her way, it would be as if a ship loaded with every aid of + food and treasure had passed a boat in which a strong man tossed, starving + to death, and had not even run up a flag. + </p> + <p> + “But one cannot run up a flag,” she said, stroking Roland. + “One cannot. There we stand.” + </p> + <p> + To her recognition of this deadlock of Fate, there had been adding the + growing disturbance caused by yet another thing which was increasingly + troubling, increasingly difficult to face. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, and at first with wonderful naturalness of bearing, Nigel + Anstruthers had managed to create for himself a singular place in her + everyday life. It had begun with a certain personalness in his attitude, a + personalness which was a thing to dislike, but almost impossible openly to + resent. Certainly, as a self-invited guest in his house, she could + scarcely protest against the amiability of his demeanour and his exterior + courtesy and attentiveness of manner in his conduct towards her. She had + tried to sweep away the objectionable quality in his bearing, by + frankness, by indifference, by entire lack of response, but she had + remained conscious of its increasing as a spider's web might increase as + the spider spun it quietly over one, throwing out threads so impalpable + that one could not brush them away because they were too slight to be + seen. She was aware that in the first years of his married life he had + alternately resented the scarcity of the invitations sent them and rudely + refused such as were received. Since he had returned to find her at + Stornham, he had insisted that no invitations should be declined, and had + escorted his wife and herself wherever they went. What could have been + conventionally more proper—what more improper than that he should + have persistently have remained at home? And yet there came a time when, + as they three drove together at night in the closed carriage, Betty was + conscious that, as he sat opposite to her in the dark, when he spoke, when + he touched her in arranging the robe over her, or opening or shutting the + window, he subtly, but persistently, conveyed that the personalness of his + voice, look, and physical nearness was a sort of hideous confidence + between them which they were cleverly concealing from Rosalie and the + outside world. + </p> + <p> + When she rode about the country, he had a way of appearing at some turning + and making himself her companion, riding too closely at her side, and + assuming a noticeable air of being engaged in meaningly confidential talk. + Once, when he had been leaning towards her with an audaciously tender + manner, they had been passed by the Dunholm carriage, and Lady Dunholm and + the friend driving with her had evidently tried not to look surprised. + Lady Alanby, meeting them in the same way at another time, had put up her + glasses and stared in open disapproval. She might admire a strikingly + handsome American girl, but her favour would not last through any such + vulgar silliness as flirtations with disgraceful brothers-in-law. When + Betty strolled about the park or the lanes, she much too often encountered + Sir Nigel strolling also, and knew that he did not mean to allow her to + rid herself of him. In public, he made a point of keeping observably close + to her, of hovering in her vicinity and looking on at all she did with + eyes she rebelled against finding fixed on her each time she was obliged + to turn in his direction. He had a fashion of coming to her side and + speaking in a dropped voice, which excluded others, as a favoured lover + might. She had seen both men and women glance at her in half-embarrassment + at their sudden sense of finding themselves slightly de trop. She had said + aloud to him on one such occasion—and she had said it with smiling + casualness for the benefit of Lady Alanby, to whom she had been talking: + </p> + <p> + “Don't alarm me by dropping your voice, Nigel. I am easily + frightened—and Lady Alanby will think we are conspirators.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant he was taken by surprise. He had been pleased to believe + that there was no way in which she could defend herself, unless she would + condescend to something stupidly like a scene. He flushed and drew himself + up. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, my dear Betty,” he said, and walked away + with the manner of an offended adorer, leaving her to realise an odiously + unpleasant truth—which is that there are incidents only made more + inexplicable by an effort to explain. She saw also that he was quite aware + of this, and that his offended departure was a brilliant inspiration, and + had left her, as it were, in the lurch. To have said to Lady Alanby: + “My brother-in-law, in whose house I am merely staying for my + sister's sake, is trying to lead you to believe that I allow him to make + love to me,” would have suggested either folly or insanity on her + own part. As it was—after a glance at Sir Nigel's stiffly retreating + back—Lady Alanby merely looked away with a wholly uninviting + expression. + </p> + <p> + When Betty spoke to him afterwards, haughtily and with determination, he + laughed. + </p> + <p> + “My dearest girl,” he said, “if I watch you with + interest and drop my voice when I get a chance to speak to you, I only do + what every other man does, and I do it because you are an alluring young + woman—which no one is more perfectly aware of than yourself. Your + pretence that you do not know you are alluring is the most captivating + thing about you. And what do you think of doing if I continue to offend + you? Do you propose to desert us—to leave poor Rosalie to sink back + again into the bundle of old clothes she was when you came? For Heaven's + sake, don't do that!” + </p> + <p> + All that his words suggested took form before her vividly. How well he + understood what he was saying. But she answered him bravely. + </p> + <p> + “No. I do not mean to do that.” + </p> + <p> + He watched her for a few seconds. There was curiosity in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Don't make the mistake of imagining that I will let my wife go with + you to America,” he said next. “She is as far off from that as + she was when I brought her to Stornham. I have told her so. A man cannot + tie his wife to the bedpost in these days, but he can make her efforts to + leave him so decidedly unpleasant that decent women prefer to stay at home + and take what is coming. I have seen that often enough 'to bank on it,' if + I may quote your American friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember my once saying,” Betty remarked, “that + when a woman has been PROPERLY ill-treated the time comes when nothing + matters—nothing but release from the life she loathes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered. “And to you nothing would matter but—excuse + my saying it—your own damnable, headstrong pride. But Rosalie is + different. Everything matters to her. And you will find it so, my dear + girl.” + </p> + <p> + And that this was at least half true was brought home to her by the fact + that late the same night Rosy came to her white with crying. + </p> + <p> + “It is not your fault, Betty,” she said. “Don't think + that I think it is your fault, but he has been in my room in one of those + humours when he seems like a devil. He thinks you will go back to America + and try to take me with you. But, Betty, you must not think about me. It + will be better for you to go. I have seen you again. I have had you for—for + a time. You will be safer at home with father and mother.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laid a hand on her shoulder and looked at her fixedly. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Rosy?” she said. “What is it he does to you—that + makes you like this?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—but that he makes me feel that there is nothing + but evil and lies in the world and nothing can help one against them. + Those things he says about everyone—men and women—things one + can't repeat—make me sick. And when I try to deny them, he laughs.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he say things about me?” Betty inquired, very quietly, + and suddenly Rosalie threw her arms round her. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, darling,” she cried, “go home—go home. You + must not stay here.” + </p> + <p> + “When I go, you will go with me,” Betty answered. “I am + not going back to mother without you.” + </p> + <p> + She made a collection of many facts before their interview was at an end, + and they parted for the night. Among the first was that Nigel had prepared + for certain possibilities as wise holders of a fortress prepare for siege. + A rather long sitting alone over whisky and soda had, without making him + loquacious, heated his blood in such a manner as led him to be less subtle + than usual. Drink did not make him drunk, but malignant, and when a man is + in the malignant mood, he forgets his cleverness. So he revealed more than + he absolutely intended. It was to be gathered that he did not mean to + permit his wife to leave him, even for a visit; he would not allow himself + to be made ridiculous by such a thing. A man who could not control his + wife was a fool and deserved to be a laughing-stock. As Ughtred and his + future inheritance seemed to have become of interest to his grandfather, + and were to be well nursed and taken care of, his intention was that the + boy should remain under his own supervision. He could amuse himself well + enough at Stornham, now that it had been put in order, if it was kept up + properly and he filled it with people who did not bore him. There were + people who did not bore him—plenty of them. Rosalie would stay where + she was and receive his guests. If she imagined that the little episode of + Ffolliott had been entirely dormant, she was mistaken. He knew where the + man was, and exactly how serious it would be to him if scandal was stirred + up. He had been at some trouble to find out. The fellow had recently had + the luck to fall into a very fine living. It had been bestowed on him by + the old Duke of Broadmorlands, who was the most strait-laced old boy in + England. He had become so in his disgust at the light behaviour of the + wife he had divorced in his early manhood. Nigel cackled gently as he + detailed that, by an agreeable coincidence, it happened that her Grace had + suddenly become filled with pious fervour—roused thereto by a + good-looking locum tenens—result, painful discoveries—the pair + being now rumoured to be keeping a lodging-house together somewhere in + Australia. A word to good old Broadmorlands would produce the effect of a + lighted match on a barrel of gunpowder. It would be the end of Ffolliott. + Neither would it be a good introduction to Betty's first season in London, + neither would it be enjoyed by her mother, whom he remembered as a woman + with primitive views of domestic rectitude. He smiled the awful smile as + he took out of his pocket the envelope containing the words his wife had + written to Mr. Ffolliott, “Do not come to the house. Meet me at + Bartyon Wood.” It did not take much to convince people, if one + managed things with decent forethought. The Brents, for instance, were + fond neither of her nor of Betty, and they had never forgotten the + questionable conduct of their locum tenens. Then, suddenly, he had changed + his manner and had sat down, laughing, and drawn Rosalie to his knee and + kissed her—yes, he had kissed her and told her not to look like a + little fool or act like one. Nothing unpleasant would happen if she + behaved herself. Betty had improved her greatly, and she had grown young + and pretty again. She looked quite like a child sometimes, now that her + bones were covered and she dressed well. If she wanted to please him she + could put her arms round his neck and kiss him, as he had kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “That is what has made you look white,” said Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. There is something about him that sometimes makes you feel as + if the very blood in your veins turned white,” answered Rosy—in + a low voice, which the next moment rose. “Don't you see—don't + you see,” she broke out, “that to displease him would be like + murdering Mr. Ffolliott—like murdering his mother and mine—and + like murdering Ughtred, because he would be killed by the shame of things—and + by being taken from me. We have loved each other so much—so much. + Don't you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I see all that rises up before you,” Betty said, “and I + understand your feeling that you cannot save yourself by bringing ruin + upon an innocent man who helped you. I realise that one must have time to + think it over. But, Rosy,” a sudden ring in her voice, “I tell + you there is a way out—there is a way out! The end of the misery is + coming—and it will not be what he thinks.” + </p> + <p> + “You always believe——” began Rosy. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” answered Betty. “I know there are some things + so bad that they cannot go on. They kill themselves through their own + evil. I KNOW! I KNOW! That is all.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XL + </h2> + <h3> + “DON'T GO ON WITH THIS” + </h3> + <p> + Of these things, as of others, she had come to her solitude to think. She + looked out over the marshes scarcely seeing the wandering or resting + sheep, scarcely hearing the crying plover, because so much seemed to + confront her, and she must look it all well in the face. She had fulfilled + the promise she had made to herself as a child. She had come in search of + Rosy, she had found her as simple and loving of heart as she had ever + been. The most painful discoveries she had made had been concealed from + her mother until their aspect was modified. Mrs. Vanderpoel need now feel + no shock at the sight of the restored Rosy. Lady Anstruthers had been + still young enough to respond both physically and mentally to love, + companionship, agreeable luxuries, and stimulating interests. But for + Nigel's antagonism there was now no reason why she should not be taken + home for a visit to her family, and her long-yearned-for New York, no + reason why her father and mother should not come to Stornham, and thus + establish the customary social relations between their daughter's home and + their own. That this seemed out of the question was owing to the fact that + at the outset of his married life Sir Nigel had allowed himself to commit + errors in tactics. A perverse egotism, not wholly normal in its rancour, + had led him into deeds which he had begun to suspect of having cost him + too much, even before Betty herself had pointed out to him their + unbusinesslike indiscretion. He had done things he could not undo, and + now, to his mind, his only resource was to treat them boldly as having + been the proper results of decision founded on sound judgment, which he + had no desire to excuse. A sufficiently arrogant loftiness of bearing + would, he hoped, carry him through the matter. This Betty herself had + guessed, but she had not realised that this loftiness of attitude was in + danger of losing some of its effectiveness through his being increasingly + stung and spurred by circumstances and feelings connected with herself, + which were at once exasperating and at times almost overpowering. When, in + his mingled dislike and admiration, he had begun to study his + sister-in-law, and the half-amused weaving of the small plots which would + make things sufficiently unpleasant to be used as factors in her removal + from the scene, if necessary, he had not calculated, ever so remotely, on + the chance of that madness besetting him which usually besets men only in + their youth. He had imagined no other results to himself than a + subtly-exciting private entertainment, such as would give spice to the + dullness of virtuous life in the country. But, despite himself and his + intentions, he had found the situation alter. His first uncertainty of + himself had arisen at the Dunholm ball, when he had suddenly realised that + he was detesting men who, being young and free, were at liberty to pay + gallant court to the new beauty. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the most disturbing thing to him had been his consciousness of his + sudden leap of antagonism towards Mount Dunstan, who, despite his obvious + lack of chance, somehow especially roused in him the rage of warring male + instinct. There had been admissions he had been forced, at length, to make + to himself. You could not, it appeared, live in the house with a splendid + creature like this one—with her brilliant eyes, her beauty of line + and movement before you every hour, her bloom, her proud fineness holding + themselves wholly in their own keeping—without there being the devil + to pay. Lately he had sometimes gone hot and cold in realising that, + having once told himself that he might choose to decide to get rid of her, + he now knew that the mere thought of her sailing away of her own choice + was maddening to him. There WAS the devil to pay! It sometimes brought + back to him that hideous shakiness of nerve which had been a feature of + his illness when he had been on the Riviera with Teresita. + </p> + <p> + Of all this Betty only knew the outward signs which, taken at their + exterior significance, were detestable enough, and drove her hard as she + mentally dwelt on them in connection with other things. How easy, if she + stood alone, to defy his evil insolence to do its worst, and leaving the + place at an hour's notice, to sail away to protection, or, if she chose to + remain in England, to surround herself with a bodyguard of the people in + whose eyes his disrepute relegated a man such as Nigel Anstruthers to + powerless nonentity. Alone, she could have smiled and turned her back upon + him. But she was here to take care of Rosy. She occupied a position + something like that of a woman who remains with a man and endures outrage + because she cannot leave her child. That thought, in itself, brought + Ughtred to her mind. There was Ughtred to be considered as well as his + mother. Ughtred's love for and faith in her were deep and passionate + things. He fed on her tenderness for him, and had grown stronger because + he spent hours of each day talking, reading, and driving with her. The + simple truth was that neither she nor Rosalie could desert Ughtred, and so + long as Nigel managed cleverly enough, the law would give the boy to his + father. + </p> + <p> + “You are obliged to prove things, you know, in a court of law,” + he had said, as if with casual amiability, on a certain occasion. “Proving + things is the devil. People lose their tempers and rush into rows which + end in lawsuits, and then find they can prove nothing. If I were a + villain,” slightly showing his teeth in an agreeable smile—“instead + of a man of blameless life, I should go in only for that branch of my + profession which could be exercised without leaving stupid evidence + behind.” + </p> + <p> + Since his return to Stornham the outward decorum of his own conduct had + entertained him and he had kept it up with an increasing appreciation of + its usefulness in the present situation. Whatsoever happened in the end, + it was the part of discretion to present to the rural world about him an + appearance of upright behaviour. He had even found it amusing to go to + church and also to occasionally make amiable calls at the vicarage. It was + not difficult, at such times, to refer delicately to his regret that + domestic discomfort had led him into the error of remaining much away from + Stornham. He knew that he had been even rather touching in his expression + of interest in the future of his son, and the necessity of the boy's being + protected from uncontrolled hysteric influences. And, in the years of + Rosalie's unprotected wretchedness, he had taken excellent care that no + “stupid evidence” should be exposed to view. + </p> + <p> + Of all this Betty was thinking and summing up definitely, point after + point. Where was the wise and practical course of defence? The most + unthinkable thing was that one could find one's self in a position in + which action seemed inhibited. What could one do? To send for her father + would surely end the matter—but at what cost to Rosy, to Ughtred, to + Ffolliott, before whom the fair path to dignified security had so newly + opened itself? What would be the effect of sudden confusion, anguish, and + public humiliation upon Rosalie's carefully rebuilt health and strength—upon + her mother's new hope and happiness? At moments it seemed as if almost all + that had been done might be undone. She was beset by such a moment now, + and felt for the time, at least, like a creature tied hand and foot while + in full strength. + </p> + <p> + Certainly she was not prepared for the event which happened. Roland + stiffened his ears, and, beginning a rumbling growl, ended it suddenly, + realising it an unnecessary precaution. + </p> + <p> + He knew the man walking up the incline of the mound from the side behind + them. So did Betty know him. It was Sir Nigel looking rather glowering and + pale and walking slowly. He had discovered where she had meant to take + refuge, and had probably ridden to some point where he could leave his + horse and follow her at the expense of taking a short cut which saved + walking. + </p> + <p> + As he climbed the mound to join her, Betty rose to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “My dear girl,” he said, “don't get up as if you meant + to go away. It has cost me some exertion to find you.” + </p> + <p> + “It will not cost you any exertion to lose me,” was her light + answer. “I AM going away.” + </p> + <p> + He had reached her, and stood still before her with scarcely a yard's + distance between them. He was slightly out of breath and even a trifle + livid. He leaned on his stick and his look at her combined leaping bad + temper with something deeper. + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” he broke out, “why do you make such a point + of treating me like the devil?” + </p> + <p> + Betty felt her heart give a hastened beat, not of fear, but of repulsion. + This was the mood and manner which subjugated Rosalie. He had so raised + his voice that two men in the distance, who might be either labourers or + sportsmen, hearing its high tone, glanced curiously towards them. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask me a question which is totally absurd?” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “It is not absurd,” he answered. “I am speaking of + facts, and I intend to come to some understanding about them.” + </p> + <p> + For reply, after meeting his look a few seconds, she simply turned her + back and began to walk away. He followed and overtook her. + </p> + <p> + “I shall go with you, and I shall say what I want to say,” he + persisted. “If you hasten your pace I shall hasten mine. I cannot + exactly see you running away from me across the marsh, screaming. You + wouldn't care to be rescued by those men over there who are watching us. I + should explain myself to them in terms neither you nor Rosalie would + enjoy. There! I knew Rosalie's name would pull you up. Good God! I wish I + were a weak fool with a magnificent creature protecting me at all risks.” + </p> + <p> + If she had not had blood and fire in her veins, she might have found it + easy to answer calmly. But she had both, and both leaped and beat + furiously for a few seconds. It was only human that it should be so. But + she was more than a passionate girl of high and trenchant spirit, and she + had learned, even in the days at the French school, what he had never been + able to learn in his life—self-control. She held herself in as she + would have held in a horse of too great fire and action. She was actually + able to look—as the first Reuben Vanderpoel would have looked—at + her capital of resource. But it meant taut holding of the reins. + </p> + <p> + “Will you tell me,” she said, stopping, “what it is you + want?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk to you. I want to tell you truths you would rather + be told here than on the high road, where people are passing—or at + Stornham, where the servants would overhear and Rosalie be thrown into + hysterics. You will NOT run screaming across the marsh, because I should + run screaming after you, and we should both look silly. Here is a rather + scraggy tree. Will you sit on the mound near it—for Rosalie's sake?” + </p> + <p> + “I will not sit down,” replied Betty, “but I will + listen, because it is not a bad idea that I should understand you. But to + begin with, I will tell you something.” She stopped beneath the tree + and stood with her back against its trunk. “I pick up things by + noticing people closely, and I have realised that all your life you have + counted upon getting your own way because you saw that people—especially + women—have a horror of public scenes, and will submit to almost + anything to avoid them. That is true very often, but not always.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes, which were well opened, were quite the blue of steel, and rested + directly upon him. “I, for instance, would let you make a scene with + me anywhere you chose—in Bond Street—in Piccadilly—on + the steps of Buckingham Palace, as I was getting out of my carriage to + attend a drawing-room—and you would gain nothing you wanted by it—nothing. + You may place entire confidence in that statement.” + </p> + <p> + He stared back at her, momentarily half-magnetised, and then broke forth + into a harsh half-laugh. + </p> + <p> + “You are so damned handsome that nothing else matters. I'm hanged if + it does!” and the words were an exclamation. He drew still nearer to + her, speaking with a sort of savagery. “Cannot you see that you + could do what you pleased with me? You are too magnificent a thing for a + man to withstand. I have lost my head and gone to the devil through you. + That is what I came to say.” + </p> + <p> + In the few seconds of silence that followed, his breath came quickly again + and he was even paler than before. + </p> + <p> + “You came to me to say THAT?” asked Betty. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—to say it before you drove me to other things.” + </p> + <p> + Her gaze was for a moment even slightly wondering. He presented the + curious picture of a cynical man of the world, for the time being ruled + and impelled only by the most primitive instincts. To a clear-headed + modern young woman of the most powerful class, he—her sister's + husband—was making threatening love as if he were a savage chief and + she a savage beauty of his tribe. All that concerned him was that he + should speak and she should hear—that he should show her he was the + stronger of the two. + </p> + <p> + “Are you QUITE mad?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite,” he answered; “only three parts—but I + am beyond my own control. That is the best proof of what has happened to + me. You are an arrogant piece and you would defy me if you stood alone, + but you don't, and, by the Lord! I have reached a point where I will make + use of every lever I can lay my hand on—yourself, Rosalie, Ughtred, + Ffolliott—the whole lot of you!” + </p> + <p> + The thing which was hardest upon her was her knowledge of her own strength—of + what she might have allowed herself of flaming words and instant action—but + for the memory of Rosy's ghastly little face, as it had looked when she + cried out, “You must not think of me. Betty, go home—go home!” + She held the white desperation of it before her mental vision and answered + him even with a certain interested deliberateness. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she inquired, “that you are talking to me + as though you were the villain in the melodrama?” + </p> + <p> + “There is an advantage in that,” he answered, with an unholy + smile. “If you repeat what I say, people will only think that you + are indulging in hysterical exaggeration. They don't believe in the + existence of melodrama in these days.” + </p> + <p> + The cynical, absolute knowledge of this revealed so much that nerve was + required to face it with steadiness. + </p> + <p> + “True,” she commented. “Now I think I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't,” he burst forth. “You have spent your + life standing on a golden pedestal, being kowtowed to, and you imagine + yourself immune from difficulties because you think you can pay your way + out of anything. But you will find that you cannot pay your way out of + this—or rather you cannot pay Rosalie's way out of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not try. Go on,” said the girl. “What I do not + understand, you must explain to me. Don't leave anything unsaid.” + </p> + <p> + “Good God, what a woman you are!” he cried out bitterly. He + had never seen such beauty in his life as he saw in her as she stood with + her straight young body flat against the tree. It was not a matter of deep + colour of eye, or high spirit of profile—but of something which + burned him. Still as she was, she looked like a flame. She made him feel + old and body-worn, and all the more senselessly furious. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you hate me,” he raged. “And I may thank my + wife for that.” Then he lost himself entirely. “Why cannot you + behave well to me? If you will behave well to me, Rosalie shall go her own + way. If you even looked at me as you look at other men—but you do + not. There is always something under your lashes which watches me as if I + were a wild beast you were studying. Don't fancy yourself a dompteuse. I + am not your man. I swear to you that you don't know what you are dealing + with. I swear to you that if you play this game with me I will drag you + two down if I drag myself with you. I have nothing much to lose. You and + your sister have everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” Betty said briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Go on! Yes, I will go on. Rosalie and Ffolliott I hold in the + hollow of my hand. As for you—do you know that people are beginning + to discuss you? Gossip is easily stirred in the country, where people are + so bored that they chatter in self-defence. I have been considered a bad + lot. I have become curiously attached to my sister-in-law. I am seen + hanging about her, hanging over her as we ride or walk alone together. An + American young woman is not like an English girl—she is used to + seeing the marriage ceremony juggled with. There's a trifle of prejudice + against such young women when they are too rich and too handsome. Don't + look at me like that!” he burst forth, with maddened sharpness, + “I won't have it!” + </p> + <p> + The girl was regarding him with the expression he most resented—the + reflection of a normal person watching an abnormal one, and studying his + abnormality. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know that you are raving?” she said, with quiet + curiosity—“raving?” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he sat down on the low mound near him, and as he touched his + forehead with his handkerchief, she saw that his hand actually shook. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered, panting, “but 'ware my ravings! They + mean what they say.” + </p> + <p> + “You do yourself an injury when you give way to them”—steadily, + even with a touch of slow significance—“a physical injury. I + have noticed that more than once.” + </p> + <p> + He sprang to his feet again. Every drop of blood left his face. For a + second he looked as if he would strike her. His arm actually flung itself + out—and fell. + </p> + <p> + “You devil!” he gasped. “You count on that? You + she-devil!” + </p> + <p> + She left her tree and stood before him. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” she said. “You intimate that you have + been laying melodramatic plots against me which will injure my good name. + That is rubbish. Let us leave it at that. You threaten that you will break + Rosy's heart and take her child from her, you say also that you will wound + and hurt my mother to her death and do your worst to ruin an honest man——” + </p> + <p> + “And, by God, I will!” he raged. “And you cannot stop + me, if——” + </p> + <p> + “I do not know whether I can stop you or not, though you may be sure + I will try,” she interrupted him, “but that is not what I was + going to say.” She drew a step nearer, and there was something in + the intensity of her look which fascinated and held him for a moment. She + was curiously grave. “Nigel, I believe in certain things you do not + believe in. I believe black thoughts breed black ills to those who think + them. It is not a new idea. There is an old Oriental proverb which says, + 'Curses, like chickens, come home to roost.' I believe also that the worst—the + very worst CANNOT be done to those who think steadily—steadily—only + of the best. To you that is merely superstition to be laughed at. That is + a matter of opinion. But—don't go on with this thing—DON'T GO + ON WITH IT. Stop and think it over.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her furiously—tried to laugh outright, and failed + because the look in her eyes was so odd in its strength and stillness. + </p> + <p> + “You think you can lay some weird spell upon me,” he jeered + sardonically. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't,” she answered. “I could not if I would. It + is no affair of mine. It is your affair only—and there is nothing + weird about it. Don't go on, I tell you. Think better of it.” + </p> + <p> + She turned about without further speech, and walked away from him with + light swiftness over the marsh. Oddly enough, he did not even attempt to + follow her. He felt a little weak—perhaps because a certain thing + she had said had brought back to him a familiar touch of the horrors. She + had the eyes of a falcon under the odd, soft shade of the extraordinary + lashes. She had seen what he thought no one but himself had realised. + Having watched her retreating figure for a few seconds, he sat down—as + suddenly as before—on the mound near the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, damn her!” he said, his damp forehead on his hands. + “Damn the whole universe!” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + When Betty and Roland reached Stornham, the wicker-work pony chaise from + the vicarage stood before the stone entrance steps. The drawing-room door + was open, and Mrs. Brent was standing near it saying some last words to + Lady Anstruthers before leaving the house, after a visit evidently made + with an object. This Betty gathered from the solemnity of her manner. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” said Lady Anstruthers, catching sight of her, “do + come in for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + When Betty entered, both her sister and Mrs. Brent looked at her + questioningly. + </p> + <p> + “You look a little pale and tired, Miss Vanderpoel,” Mrs. + Brent said, rather as if in haste to be the first to speak. “I hope + you are not at all unwell. We need all our strength just now. I have + brought the most painful news. Malignant typhoid fever has broken out + among the hop pickers on the Mount Dunstan estate. Some poor creature was + evidently sickening for it when he came from London. Three people died + last night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLI + </h2> + <h3> + SHE WOULD DO SOMETHING + </h3> + <p> + Sir Nigel's face was not a good thing to see when he appeared at the + dinner table in the evening. As he took his seat the two footmen glanced + quickly at each other, and the butler at the sideboard furtively thrust + out his underlip. Not a man or woman in the household but had learned the + signal denoting the moment when no service would please, no word or + movement be unobjectionable. Lady Anstruthers' face unconsciously assumed + its propitiatory expression, and she glanced at her sister more than once + when Betty was unaware that she did so. + </p> + <p> + Until the soup had been removed, Sir Nigel scarcely spoke, merely making + curt replies to any casual remark. This was one of his simple and most + engaging methods of at once enjoying an ill-humour and making his wife + feel that she was in some way to blame for it. + </p> + <p> + “Mount Dunstan is in a deucedly unpleasant position,” he + condescended at last. “I should not care to stand in his shoes.” + </p> + <p> + He had not returned to the Court until late in the afternoon, but having + heard in the village the rumour of the outbreak of fever, he had made + inquiries and gathered detail. + </p> + <p> + “You are thinking of the outbreak of typhoid among the hop pickers?” + said Lady Anstruthers. “Mrs. Brent thinks it threatens to be very + serious.” + </p> + <p> + “An epidemic, without a doubt,” he answered. “In a + wretched unsanitary place like Dunstan village, the wretches will die like + flies.” + </p> + <p> + “What will be done?” inquired Betty. + </p> + <p> + He gave her one of the unpleasant personal glances and laughed derisively. + </p> + <p> + “Done? The county authorities, who call themselves 'guardians,' will + be frightened to death and will potter about and fuss like old women, and + profess to examine and protect and lay restrictions, but everyone will + manage to keep at a discreet distance, and the thing will run riot and do + its worst. As far as one can see, there seems no reason why the whole + place should not be swept away. No doubt Mount Dunstan has wisely taken to + his heels already.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that, on the contrary, there would be much doubt of that,” + Betty said. “He would stay and do what he could.” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Would he? I think you'll find he would not.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Brent tells me,” Rosalie broke in somewhat hurriedly, + “that the huts for the hoppers are in the worst possible condition. + They are so dilapidated that the rain pours into them. There is no proper + shelter for the people who are ill, and Lord Mount Dunstan cannot afford + to take care of them.” + </p> + <p> + “But he WILL—he WILL,” broke forth Betty. Her head + lifted itself and she spoke almost as if through her small, shut teeth. A + wave of intense belief—high, proud, and obstinate, swept through + her. It was a feeling so strong and vibrant that she felt as if Mount + Dunstan himself must be reached and upborne by it—as if he himself + must hear her. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie looked at her half-startled, and, for the moment held fascinated + by the sudden force rising in her and by the splendid spark of light under + her lids. She was reminded of the fierce little Betty of long ago, with + her delicate, indomitable small face and the spirit which even at nine + years old had somehow seemed so strong and straitly keen of sight that one + had known it might always be trusted. Actually, in one way, she had not + changed. She saw the truth of things. The next instant, however, + inadvertently glancing towards her husband, she caught her breath quickly. + Across his heavy-featured face had shot the sudden gleam of a new + expression. It was as if he had at the moment recognised something which + filled him with a rush of fury he himself was not prepared for. That he + did not wish it to be seen she knew by his manner. There was a brief + silence in which it passed away. He spoke after it, with disagreeable + precision. + </p> + <p> + “He has had an enormous effect on you—that man,” he said + to Betty. + </p> + <p> + He spoke clearly so that she might have the pleasure of being certain that + the menservants heard. They were close to the table, handing fruit—professing + to be automatons, eyes down, faces expressing nothing, but as quick of + hearing as it is said that blind men are. He knew that if he had been in + her place and a thing as insultingly significant had been said to him, he + should promptly have hurled the nearest object—plate, wineglass, or + decanter—in the face of the speaker. He knew, too, that women cannot + hurl projectiles without looking like viragos and fools. The + weakly-feminine might burst into tears or into a silly rage and leave the + table. There was a distinct breath's space of pause, and Betty, cutting a + cluster from a bunch of hothouse grapes presented by the footman at her + side, answered as clearly as he had spoken himself. + </p> + <p> + “He is strong enough to produce an effect on anyone,” she + said. “I think you feel that yourself. He is a man who will not be + beaten in the end. Fortune will give him some good thing.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a fellow who knows well enough on which hand of him good + things lie,” he said. “He will take all that offers itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” Betty said impartially. + </p> + <p> + “There must be no riding or driving in the neighbourhood of the + place,” he said next. “I will have no risks run.” He + turned and addressed the butler. “Jennings, tell the servants that + those are my orders.” + </p> + <p> + He sat over his wine but a short time that evening, and when he joined his + wife and sister-in-law in the drawing-room he went at once to Betty. In + fact, he was in the condition when a man cannot keep away from a woman, + but must invent some reason for reaching her whether it is fatuous or + plausible. + </p> + <p> + “What I said to Jennings was an order to you as well as to the + people below stairs. I know you are particularly fond of riding in the + direction of Mount Dunstan. You are in my care so long as you are in my + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Orders are not necessary,” Betty replied. “The day is + past when one rushed to smooth pillows and give the wrong medicine when + one's friends were ill. If one is not a properly-trained nurse, it is + wiser not to risk being very much in the way.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke over her shoulder, dropping his voice, though Lady Anstruthers + sat apart, appearing to read. + </p> + <p> + “Don't think I am fool enough not to understand. You have yourself + under magnificent control, but a woman passionately in love cannot keep a + certain look out of her eyes.” + </p> + <p> + He was standing on the hearth. Betty swung herself lightly round, facing + him squarely. Her full look was splendid. + </p> + <p> + “If it is there—let it stay,” she said. “I would + not keep it out of my eyes if I could, and, you are right, I could not if + I would—if it is there. If it is—let it stay.” + </p> + <p> + The daring, throbbing, human truth of her made his brain whirl. To a man + young and clean and fit to count as in the lists, to have heard her say + the thing of a rival would have been hard enough, but base, degenerate, + and of the world behind her day, to hear it while frenzied for her, was + intolerable. And it was Mount Dunstan she bore herself so highly for. + Whether melodrama is out of date or not there are, occasionally, some fine + melodramatic touches in the enmities of to-day. + </p> + <p> + “You think you will reach him,” he persisted. “You think + you will help him in some way. You will not let the thing alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse my mentioning that whatsoever I take the liberty of doing + will encroach on no right of yours,” she said. + </p> + <p> + But, alone in her room, after she went upstairs, the face reflecting + itself in the mirror was pale and its black brows were drawn together. + </p> + <p> + She sat down at the dressing-table, and, seeing the paled face, drew the + black brows closer, confronting a complicating truth. + </p> + <p> + “If I were free to take Rosalie and Ughtred home to-morrow,” + she thought, “I could not bear to go. I should suffer too much.” + </p> + <p> + She was suffering now. The strong longing in her heart was like a physical + pain. No word or look of this one man had given her proof that his + thoughts turned to her, and yet it was intolerable—intolerable—that + in his hour of stress and need they were as wholly apart as if worlds + rolled between them. At any dire moment it was mere nature that she should + give herself in help and support. If, on the night at sea, when they had + first spoken to each other, the ship had gone down, she knew that they + two, strangers though they were, would have worked side by side among the + frantic people, and have been among the last to take to the boats. How did + she know? Only because, he being he, and she being she, it must have been + so in accordance with the laws ruling entities. And now he stood facing a + calamity almost as terrible—and she with full hands sat still. + </p> + <p> + She had seen the hop pickers' huts and had recognised their condition. + Mere brick sheds in which the pickers slept upon bundles of hay or straw + in their best days; in their decay they did not even provide shelter. In + fine weather the hop gatherers slept well enough in them, cooking their + food in gypsy-fashion in the open. When the rain descended, it must run + down walls and drip through the holes in the roofs in streams which would + soak clothes and bedding. The worst that Nigel and Mrs. Brent had implied + was true. Illness of any order, under such circumstances, would have small + chance of recovery, but malignant typhoid without shelter, without proper + nourishment or nursing, had not one chance in a million. And he—this + one man—stood alone in the midst of the tragedy—responsible + and helpless. He would feel himself responsible as she herself would, if + she were in his place. She was conscious that suddenly the event of the + afternoon—the interview upon the marshes, had receded until it had + become an almost unmeaning incident. What did the degenerate, melodramatic + folly matter——! + </p> + <p> + She had restlessly left her chair before the dressing-table, and was + walking to and fro. She paused and stood looking down at the carpet, + though she scarcely saw it. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing matters but one thing—one person,” she owned to + herself aloud. “I suppose it is always like this. Rosy, Ughtred, + even father and mother—everyone seems less near than they were. It + is too strong—too strong. It is——” the words + dropped slowly from her lips, “the strongest thing—in the + world.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her face and threw out her hands, a lovely young half-sad smile + curling the deep corners of her mouth. “Sometimes one feels so + disdained,” she said—“so disdained with all one's power. + Perhaps I am an unwanted thing.” + </p> + <p> + But even in this case there were aids one might make an effort to give. + She went to her writing-table and sat thinking for some time. Afterwards + she began to write letters. Three or four were addressed to London—one + was to Mr. Penzance. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan and his vicar were walking through the village to the + vicarage. They had been to the hop pickers' huts to see the people who + were ill of the fever. Both of them noticed that cottage doors and windows + were shut, and that here and there alarmed faces looked out from behind + latticed panes. + </p> + <p> + “They are in a panic of fear,” Mount Dunstan said, “and + by way of safeguard they shut out every breath of air and stifle indoors. + Something must be done.” + </p> + <p> + Catching the eye of a woman who was peering over her short white dimity + blind, he beckoned to her authoritatively. She came to the door and + hesitated there, curtsying nervously. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan spoke to her across the hedge. + </p> + <p> + “You need not come out to me, Mrs. Binner. You may stay where you + are,” he said. “Are you obeying the orders given by the + Guardians?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lord. Yes, my lord,” with more curtsys. + </p> + <p> + “Your health is very much in your own hands,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “You must keep your cottage and your children cleaner than you have + ever kept them before, and you must use the disinfectant I sent you. Keep + away from the huts, and open your windows. If you don't open them, I shall + come and do it for you. Bad air is infection itself. Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lord. Thank your lordship.” + </p> + <p> + “Go in and open your windows now, and tell your neighbours to do the + same. If anyone is ill let me know at once. The vicar and I will do our + best for everyone.” + </p> + <p> + By that time curiosity had overcome fear, and other cottage doors had + opened. Mount Dunstan passed down the row and said a few words to each + woman or man who looked out. Questions were asked anxiously and he + answered them. That he was personally unafraid was comfortingly plain, and + the mere sight of him was, on the whole, an unexplainable support. + </p> + <p> + “We heard said your lordship was going away,” put in a stout + mother with a heavy child on her arm, a slight testiness scarcely + concealed by respectful good-manners. She was a matron with a temper, and + that a Mount Dunstan should avoid responsibilities seemed highly credible. + </p> + <p> + “I shall stay where I am,” Mount Dunstan answered. “My + place is here.” + </p> + <p> + They believed him, Mount Dunstan though he was. It could not be said that + they were fond of him, but gradually it had been borne in upon them that + his word was to be relied on, though his manner was unalluring and they + knew he was too poor to do his duty by them or his estate. As he walked + away with the vicar, windows were opened, and in one or two untidy + cottages a sudden flourishing of mops and brooms began. + </p> + <p> + There was dark trouble in Mount Dunstan's face. In the huts they had left + two men stiff on their straw, and two women and a child in a state of + collapse. Added to these were others stricken helpless. A number of + workers in the hop gardens, on realising the danger threatening them, had + gathered together bundles and children, and, leaving the harvest behind, + had gone on the tramp again. Those who remained were the weaker or less + cautious, or were held by some tie to those who were already ill of the + fever. The village doctor was an old man who had spent his blameless life + in bringing little cottagers into the world, attending their measles and + whooping coughs, and their father's and grandfather's rheumatics. He had + never faced a village crisis in the course of his seventy-five years, and + was aghast and flurried with fright. His methods remained those of his + youth, and were marked chiefly by a readiness to prescribe calomel in any + emergency. A younger and stronger man was needed, as well as a man of more + modern training. But even the most brilliant practitioner of the hour + could not have provided shelter and nourishment, and without them his + skill would have counted as nothing. For three weeks there had been no + rain, which was a condition of the barometer not likely to last. Already + grey clouds were gathering and obscuring the blueness of the sky. + </p> + <p> + The vicar glanced upwards anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “When it comes,” he said, “there will be a downpour, and + a persistent one.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Mount Dunstan answered. + </p> + <p> + He had lain awake thinking throughout the night. How was a man to sleep! + It was as Betty Vanderpoel had known it would be. He, who—beggar + though he might be—was the lord of the land, was the man to face the + strait of these poor workers on the land, as his own. Some action must be + taken. What action? As he walked by his friend's side from the huts where + the dead men lay it revealed itself that he saw his way. + </p> + <p> + They were going to the vicarage to consult a medical book, but on the way + there they passed a part of the park where, through a break in the timber + the huge, white, blind-faced house stood on view. Mount Dunstan laid his + hand on Mr. Penzance's shoulder and stopped him, + </p> + <p> + “Look there!” he said. “THERE are weather-tight rooms + enough.” + </p> + <p> + A startled expression showed itself on the vicar's face. + </p> + <p> + “For what?” he exclaimed + </p> + <p> + “For a hospital,” brusquely “I can give them one thing, + at least—shelter.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a very remarkable thing to think of doing,” Mr. + Penzance said. + </p> + <p> + “It is not so remarkable as that labourers on my land should die at + my gate because I cannot give them decent roofs to cover them. There is a + roof that will shield them from the weather. They shall be brought to the + Mount.” + </p> + <p> + The vicar was silent a moment, and a flush of sympathy warmed his face. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Fergus,” he said, “entirely right.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to your study and plan how it shall be done,” Mount + Dunstan said. + </p> + <p> + As they walked towards the vicarage, he went on talking. + </p> + <p> + “When I lie awake at night, there is one thread which always winds + itself through my thoughts whatsoever they are. I don't find that I can + disentangle it. It connects itself with Reuben S. Vanderpoel's daughter. + You would know that without my telling you. If you had ever struggled with + an insane passion——” + </p> + <p> + “It is not insane, I repeat,” put in Penzance unflinchingly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you—whether you are right or wrong,” answered + Mount Dunstan, striding by his side. “When I am awake, she is as + much a part of my existence as my breath itself. When I think things over, + I find that I am asking myself if her thoughts would be like mine. She is + a creature of action. Last night, as I lay awake, I said to myself, 'She + would DO something. What would she do?' She would not be held back by fear + of comment or convention. She would look about her for the utilisable, and + she would find it somewhere and use it. I began to sum up the village + resources and found nothing—until my thoughts led me to my own + house. There it stood—empty and useless. If it were hers, and she + stood in my place, she would make it useful. So I decided.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right,” Mr. Penzance said again. + </p> + <p> + They spent an hour in his library at the vicarage, arranging practical + methods for transforming the great ballroom into a sort of hospital ward. + It could be done by the removal of pieces of furniture from the many + unused bedrooms. There was also the transportation of the patients from + the huts to be provided for. But, when all this was planned out, each + found himself looking at the other with an unspoken thought in his mind. + Mount Dunstan first expressed it. + </p> + <p> + “As far as I can gather, the safety of typhoid fever patients + depends almost entirely on scientific nursing, and the caution with which + even liquid nourishment is given. The woman whose husband died this + morning told me that he had seemed better in the night, and had asked for + something to eat. She gave him a piece of bread and a slice of cold bacon, + because he told her he fancied it. I could not explain to her, as she sat + sobbing over him, that she had probably killed him. When we have patients + in our ward, what shall we feed them on, and who will know how to nurse + them? They do not know how to nurse each other, and the women in the + village would not run the risk of undertaking to help us.” + </p> + <p> + But, even before he had left the house, the problem was solved for them. + The solving of it lay in the note Miss Vanderpoel had written the night + before at Stornham. + </p> + <p> + When it was brought to him Mr. Penzance glanced up from certain + calculations he was making upon a sheet of note-paper. The accumulating + difficulties made him look worn and tired. He opened the note and read it + gravely, and then as gravely, though with a change of expression, handed + it to Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she is a creature of action. She has heard and understood at + once, and she has done something. It is immensely practical—it is + fine—it—it is lovable.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind my keeping it?” Mount Dunstan asked, after he had + read it. + </p> + <p> + “Keep it by all means,” the vicar answered. “It is worth + keeping.” + </p> + <p> + But it was quite brief. She had heard of the outbreak of fever among the + hop pickers, and asked to be allowed to give help to the people who were + suffering. They would need prompt aid. She chanced to know something of + the requirements of such cases, and had written to London for certain + supplies which would be sent to them at once. She had also written for + nurses, who would be needed above all else. Might she ask Mr. Penzance to + kindly call upon her for any further assistance required. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her we are deeply grateful,” said Mount Dunstan, “and + that she has given us greater help than she knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not answer her note yourself?” Penzance suggested. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said shortly. “No.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII + </h2> + <h3> + IN THE BALLROOM + </h3> + <p> + Though Dunstan village was cut off, by its misfortune, from its usual + intercourse with its neighbours, in some mystic manner villages even at + twenty miles' distance learned all it did and suffered, feared or hoped. + It did not hope greatly, the rustic habit of mind tending towards a + discouraged outlook, and cherishing the drama of impending calamity. As + far as Yangford and Marling inmates of cottages and farmhouses were + inclined to think it probable that Dunstan would be “swep away,” + and rumours of spreading death and disaster were popular. Tread, the + advanced blacksmith at Stornham, having heard in his by-gone, better days + of the Great Plague of London, was greatly in demand as a narrator of + illuminating anecdotes at The Clock Inn. + </p> + <p> + Among the parties gathered at the large houses Mount Dunstan himself was + much talked of. If he had been a popular man, he might have become a sort + of hero; as he was not popular, he was merely a subject for discussion. + The fever-stricken patients had been carried in carts to the Mount and + given beds in the ballroom, which had been made into a temporary ward. + Nurses and supplies had been sent for from London, and two energetic young + doctors had taken the place of old Dr. Fenwick, who had been frightened + and overworked into an attack of bronchitis which confined him to his bed. + Where the money came from, which must be spent every day under such + circumstances, it was difficult to say. To the simply conservative of + mind, the idea of filling one's house with dirty East End hop pickers + infected with typhoid seemed too radical. Surely he could have done + something less extraordinary. Would everybody be expected to turn their + houses into hospitals in case of village epidemics, now that he had + established a precedent? But there were people who approved, and were warm + in their sympathy with him. At the first dinner party where the matter was + made the subject of argument, the beautiful Miss Vanderpoel, who was + present, listened silently to the talk with such brilliant eyes that Lord + Dunholm, who was in an elderly way her staunch admirer, spoke to her + across the table: + </p> + <p> + “Tell us what YOU think of it, Miss Vanderpoel,” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + She did not hesitate at all. + </p> + <p> + “I like it,” she answered, in her clear, well-heard voice. + “I like it better than anything I have ever heard.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” said old Lady Alanby shortly. “I should never + have done it myself—but I like it just as you do.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew you would, Lady Alanby,” said the girl. “And + you, too, Lord Dunholm.” + </p> + <p> + “I like it so much that I shall write and ask if I cannot be of + assistance,” Lord Dunholm answered. + </p> + <p> + Betty was glad to hear this. Only quickness of thought prevented her from + the error of saying, “Thank you,” as if the matter were + personal to herself. If Mount Dunstan was restive under the obviousness of + the fact that help was so sorely needed, he might feel less so if her + offer was only one among others. + </p> + <p> + “It seems rather the duty of the neighbourhood to show some + interest,” put in Lady Alanby. “I shall write to him myself. + He is evidently of a new order of Mount Dunstan. It's to be hoped he won't + take the fever himself, and die of it He ought to marry some handsome, + well-behaved girl, and re-found the family.” + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers spoke from his side of the table, leaning slightly + forward. + </p> + <p> + “He won't if he does not take better care of himself. He passed me + on the road two days ago, riding like a lunatic. He looks frightfully ill—yellow + and drawn and lined. He has not lived the life to prepare him for settling + down to a fight with typhoid fever. He would be done for if he caught the + infection.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Lord Dunholm, with quiet decision. + “Unprejudiced inquiry proves that his life has been entirely + respectable. As Lady Alanby says, he seems to be of a new order of Mount + Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you are right,” said Sir Nigel suavely. “He + looked ill, notwithstanding.” + </p> + <p> + “As to looking ill,” remarked Lady Alanby to Lord Dunholm, who + sat near her, “that man looks as if he was going to pieces pretty + rapidly himself, and unprejudiced inquiry would not prove that his past + had nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + Betty wondered if her brother-in-law were lying. It was generally safest + to argue that he was. But the fever burned high at Mount Dunstan, and she + knew by instinct what its owner was giving of the strength of his body and + brain. A young, unmarried woman cannot go about, however, making anxious + inquiries concerning the welfare of a man who has made no advance towards + her. She must wait for the chance which brings news. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + The fever, having ill-cared for and habitually ill fed bodies to work + upon, wrought fiercely, despite the energy of the two young doctors and + the trained nurses. There were many dark hours in the ballroom ward, hours + filled with groans and wild ravings. The floating Terpsichorean goddesses + upon the lofty ceiling gazed down with wondering eyes at haggard faces and + plucking hands which sometimes, behind the screen drawn round their beds, + ceased to look feverish, and grew paler and stiller, until they moved no + more. But, at least, none had died through want of shelter and care. The + supplies needed came from London each day. Lord Dunholm had sent a + generous cheque to the aid of the sufferers, and so, also, had old Lady + Alanby, but Miss Vanderpoel, consulting medical authorities and hospitals, + learned exactly what was required, and necessities were forwarded daily in + their most easily utilisable form. + </p> + <p> + “You generously told me to ask you for anything we found we + required,” Mr. Penzance wrote to her in his note of thanks. “My + dear and kind young lady, you leave nothing to ask for. Our doctors, who + are young and enthusiastic, are filled with delight in the completeness of + the resources placed in their hands.” + </p> + <p> + She had, in fact, gone to London to consult an eminent physician, who was + an authority of world-wide reputation. Like the head of the legal firm of + Townlinson & Sheppard, he had experienced a new sensation in the visit + paid him by an indubitably modern young beauty, who wasted no word, and + whose eyes, while he answered her amazingly clear questions, were as + intelligently intent as those of an ardent and serious young medical + student. What a surgical nurse she would have made! It seemed almost a + pity that she evidently belonged to a class the members of which are rich + enough to undertake the charge of entire epidemics, but who do not usually + give themselves to such work, especially when they are young and + astonishing in the matter of looks. + </p> + <p> + In addition to the work they did in the ballroom ward, Mount Dunstan and + the vicar found much to do among the villagers. Ignorance and alarm + combined to create dangers, even where they might not have been feared. + Daily instruction and inspection of the cottages and their inmates was + required. The knowledge that they were under control and supervision was a + support to the frightened people and prevented their lapsing into careless + habits. Also, there began to develop among them a secret dependence upon, + and desire to please “his lordship,” as the existing + circumstances drew him nearer to them, and unconsciously they were + attracted and dominated by his strength. The strong man carries his power + with him, and, when Mount Dunstan entered a cottage and talked to its + inmates, the anxious wife or surlily depressed husband was conscious of + feeling a certain sense of security. It had been a queer enough thing, + this he had done—bundling the infected hoppers out of their leaking + huts and carrying them up to the Mount itself for shelter and care. At the + most, gentlefolk generally gave soup or blankets or hospital tickets, and + left the rest to luck, but, “gentry-way” or not, a man who did + a thing like that would be likely to do other things, if they were needed, + and gave folk a feeling of being safer than ordinary soup and blankets and + hospital tickets could make them. + </p> + <p> + But “where did the money come from?” was asked during the + first days. Beds and doctors, nurses and medicine, fine brandy and + unlimited fowls for broth did not come up from London without being paid + for. Pounds and pounds a day must be paid out to get the things that were + delivered “regular” in hampers and boxes. The women talked to + one another over their garden palings, the men argued together over their + beer at the public house. Was he running into more debt? But even the + village knew that Mount Dunstan credit had been exhausted long ago, and + there had been no money at the Mount within the memory of man, so to + speak. + </p> + <p> + One morning the matron with the sharp temper found out the truth, though + the outburst of gratitude to Mount Dunstan which resulted in her + enlightenment, was entirely spontaneous and without intention. Her doubt + of his Mount Dunstan blood had grown into a sturdy liking even for his + short speech and his often drawn-down brows. + </p> + <p> + “We've got more to thank your lordship for than common help,” + she said. “God Almighty knows where we'd all ha' been but for what + you've done. Those poor souls you've nursed and fed——” + </p> + <p> + “I've not done it,” he broke in promptly. “You're + mistaken; I could not have done it. How could I?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” exclaimed the matron frankly, “we WAS wondering + where things came from.” + </p> + <p> + “You might well wonder. Have any of you seen Lady Anstruthers' + sister, Miss Vanderpoel, ride through the village? She used sometimes to + ride this way. If you saw her you will remember it.' + </p> + <p> + “The 'Merican young lady!” in ejaculatory delight. “My + word, yes! A fine young woman with black hair? That rich, they say, as + millions won't cover it.” + </p> + <p> + “They won't,” grimly. “Lord Dunholm and Lady Alanby of + Dole kindly sent cheques to help us, but the American young lady was first + on the field. She sent both doctors and nurses, and has supplied us with + food and medicine every day. As you say, Mrs. Brown, God Almighty knows + what would have become of us, but for what she has done.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brown had listened with rather open mouth. She caught her breath + heartily, as a sort of approving exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “God bless her!” she broke out. “Girls isn't generally + like that. Their heads is too full of finery. God bless her, 'Merican or + no 'Merican! That's what I say.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan's red-brown eyes looked as if she had pleased him. + </p> + <p> + “That's what I say, too,” he answered. “God bless her!” + </p> + <p> + There was not a day which passed in which he did not involuntarily say the + words to himself again and again. She had been wrong when she had said in + her musings that they were as far apart as if worlds rolled between them. + Something stronger than sight or speech drew them together. The thread + which wove itself through his thoughts grew stronger and stronger. The + first day her gifts arrived and he walked about the ballroom ward + directing the placing of hospital cots and hospital aids and comforts, the + spirit of her thought and intelligence, the individuality and cleverness + of all her methods, brought her so vividly before him that it was almost + as if she walked by his side, as if they spoke together, as if she said, + “I have tried to think of everything. I want you to miss nothing. + Have I helped you? Tell me if there is anything more.” The thing + which moved and stirred him was his knowledge that when he had thought of + her she had also been thinking of him, or of what deeply concerned him. + When he had said to himself, tossing on his pillow, “What would she + DO?” she had been planning in such a way as answered his question. + Each morning, when the day's supplies arrived, it was as if he had + received a message from her. + </p> + <p> + As the people in the cottages felt the power of his temperament and + depended upon him, so, also, did the patients in the ballroom ward. The + feeling had existed from the outset and increased daily. The doctors and + nurses told one another that his passing through the room was like the + administering of a tonic. Patients who were weak and making no effort, + were lifted upon the strong wave of his will and carried onward towards + the shore of greater courage and strength. + </p> + <p> + Young Doctor Thwaite met him when he came in one morning, and spoke in a + low voice: + </p> + <p> + “There is a young man behind the screen there who is very low,” + he said. “He had an internal haemorrhage towards morning, and has + lost his pluck. He has a wife and three children. We have been doing our + best for him with hot-water bottles and stimulants, but he has not the + courage to help us. You have an extraordinary effect on them all, Lord + Mount Dunstan. When they are depressed, they always ask when you are + coming in, and this man—Patton, his name is—has asked for you + several times. Upon my word, I believe you might set him going again.” + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan walked to the bed, and, going behind the screen, stood + looking down at the young fellow lying breathing pantingly. His eyes were + closed as he laboured, and his pinched white nostrils drew themselves in + and puffed out at each breath. A nurse on the other side of the cot had + just surrounded him with fresh hot-water bottles. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the sunken eyelids flew open, and the eyes met Mount Dunstan's in + imploring anxiousness. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, Patton,” Mount Dunstan said. “You need not + speak.” + </p> + <p> + But he must speak. Here was the strength his sinking soul had longed for. + </p> + <p> + “Cruel bad—goin' fast—m' lord,” he panted. + </p> + <p> + Mount Dunstan made a sign to the nurse, who gave him a chair. He sat down + close to the bed, and took the bloodless hand in his own. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, “you are not going. You'll stay here. I + will see to that.” + </p> + <p> + The poor fellow smiled wanly. Vague yearnings had led him sometimes, in + the past, to wander into chapels or stop and listen to street preachers, + and orthodox platitudes came back to him. + </p> + <p> + “God's—will,” he trailed out. + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing of the sort. It's God's will that you pull yourself + together. A man with a wife and three children has no right to slip out.” + </p> + <p> + A yearning look flickered in the lad's eyes—he was scarcely more + than a lad, having married at seventeen, and had a child each year. + </p> + <p> + “She's—a good—girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep that in your mind while you fight this out,” said Mount + Dunstan. “Say it over to yourself each time you feel yourself + letting go. Hold on to it. I am going to fight it out with you. I shall + sit here and take care of you all day—all night, if necessary. The + doctor and the nurse will tell me what to do. Your hand is warmer already. + Shut your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + He did not leave the bedside until the middle of the night. + </p> + <p> + By that time the worst was over. He had acted throughout the hours under + the direction of nurse and doctor. No one but himself had touched the + patient. When Patton's eyes were open, they rested on him with a weird + growing belief. He begged his lordship to hold his hand, and was uneasy + when he laid it down. + </p> + <p> + “Keeps—me—up,” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “He pours something into them—vigour—magnetic power—life. + He's like a charged battery,” Dr. Thwaite said to his co-workers. + “He sat down by Patton just in time. It sets one to thinking.” + </p> + <p> + Having saved Patton, he must save others. When a man or woman sank, or had + increased fever, they believed that he alone could give them help. In + delirium patients cried out for him. He found himself doing hard work, but + he did not flinch from it. The adoration for him became a sort of passion. + Haggard faces lighted up into life at the sound of his footstep, and heavy + heads turned longingly on their pillows as he passed by. In the winter + days to come there would be many an hour's talk in East End courts and + alleys of the queer time when a score or more of them had lain in the + great room with the dancing and floating goddesses looking down at them + from the high, painted ceiling, and the swell, who was a lord, walking + about among them, working for them as the nurses did, and sitting by some + of them through awful hours, sometimes holding burning or slackening and + chilling hands with a grip whose steadiness seemed to hold them back from + the brink of the abyss they were slipping into. The mere ignorantly + childish desire to do his prowess credit and to play him fair saved more + than one man and woman from going out with the tide. + </p> + <p> + “It is the first time in my life that I have fairly counted among + men. It's the first time I have known human affection, other than yours, + Penzance. They want me, these people; they are better for the sight of me. + It is a new experience, and it is good for a man's soul,” he said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIII + </h2> + <h3> + HIS CHANCE + </h3> + <p> + Betty walked much alone upon the marshes with Roland at her side. At + intervals she heard from Mr. Penzance, but his notes were necessarily + brief, and at other times she could only rely upon report for news of what + was occurring at Mount Dunstan. Lord Mount Dunstan's almost military + supervision of and command over his villagers had certainly saved them + from the horrors of an uncontrollable epidemic; his decision and energy + had filled the alarmed Guardians with respect and this respect had begun + to be shared by many other persons. A man as prompt in action, and as + faithful to such responsibilities as many men might have found plausible + reasons enough for shirking, inevitably assumed a certain dignity of + aspect, when all was said and done. Lord Dunholm was most clear in his + expressions of opinion concerning him. Lady Alanby of Dole made a practice + of speaking of him in public frequently, always with admiring approval, + and in that final manner of hers, to whose authority her neighbours had so + long submitted. It began to be accepted as a fact that he was a new + development of his race—as her ladyship had put it, “A new + order of Mount Dunstan.” + </p> + <p> + The story of his power over the stricken people, and of their passionate + affection and admiration for him, was one likely to spread far, and be + immensely popular. The drama of certain incidents appealed greatly to the + rustic mind, and by cottage firesides he was represented with rapturous + awe, as raising men, women, and children from the dead, by the mere + miracle of touch. Mrs. Welden and old Doby revelled in thrilling, almost + Biblical, versions of current anecdotes, when Betty paid her visits to + them. + </p> + <p> + “It's like the Scripture, wot he done for that young man as the last + breath had gone out of him, an' him lyin' stiffening fast. 'Young man, + arise,' he says. 'The Lord Almighty calls. You've got a young wife an' + three children to take care of. Take up your bed an' walk.' Not as he + wanted him to carry his bed anywheres, but it was a manner of speaking. + An' up the young man got. An' a sensible way,” said old Mrs. Welden + frankly, “for the Lord to look at it—for I must say, miss, if + I was struck down for it, though I s'pose it's only my sinful ignorance—that + there's times when the Lord seems to think no more of sweepin' away a + steady eighteen-shillin' a week, and p'raps seven in family, an' one at + the breast, an' another on the way—than if it was nothin'. But + likely enough, eighteen shillin' a week an' confinements does seem paltry + to the Maker of 'eaven an' earth.” + </p> + <p> + But, to the girl walking over the marshland, the humanness of the things + she heard gave to her the sense of nearness—of being almost within + sight and sound—which Mount Dunstan himself had felt, when each day + was filled with the result of her thought of the needs of the poor souls + thrown by fate into his hands. In these days, after listening to old Mrs. + Welden's anecdotes, through which she gathered the simpler truth of + things, Betty was able to construct for herself a less Scriptural version + of what she had heard. She was glad—glad in his sitting by a bedside + and holding a hand which lay in his hot or cold, but always trusting to + something which his strong body and strong soul gave without stint. There + would be no restraint there. Yes, he was kind—kind—kind + —with the kindness a woman loves, and which she, of all women, loved + most. Sometimes she would sit upon some mound, and, while her eyes seemed + to rest on the yellowing marsh and its birds and pools, they saw other + things, and their colour grew deep and dark as the marsh water between the + rushes. + </p> + <p> + The time was pressing when a change in her life must come. She frequently + asked herself if what she saw in Nigel Anstruthers' face was the normal + thinking of a sane man, which he himself could control. There had been + moments when she had seriously doubted it. He was haggard, aging and + restless. Sometimes he—always as if by chance—followed her as + she went from one room to another, and would seat himself and fix his + miserable eyes upon her for so long a time that it seemed he must be + unconscious of what he was doing. Then he would appear suddenly to + recollect himself and would start up with a muttered exclamation, and + stalk out of the room. He spent long hours riding or driving alone about + the country or wandering wretchedly through the Park and gardens. Once he + went up to town, and, after a few days' absence, came back looking more + haggard than before, and wearing a hunted look in his eyes. He had gone to + see a physician, and, after having seen him, he had tried to lose himself + in a plunge into deep and turbid enough waters; but he found that he had + even lost the taste of high flavours, for which he had once had an + epicurean palate. The effort had ended in his being overpowered again by + his horrors—the horrors in which he found himself staring at that + end of things when no pleasure had spice, no debauchery the sting of life, + and men, such as he, stood upon the shore of time shuddering and naked + souls, watching the great tide, bearing its treasures, recede forever, and + leave them to the cold and hideous dark. During one day of his stay in + town he had seen Teresita, who had at first stared half frightened by the + change she saw in him, and then had told him truths he could have wrung + her neck for putting into words. + </p> + <p> + “You look an old man,” she said, with the foreign accent he + had once found deliciously amusing, but which now seemed to add a sting. + “And somesing is eating you op. You are mad in lofe with some + beautiful one who will not look at you. I haf seen it in mans before. It + is she who eats you op—your evil thinkings of her. It serve you + right. Your eyes look mad.” + </p> + <p> + He himself, at times, suspected that they did, and cursed himself because + he could not keep cool. It was part of his horrors that he knew his + internal furies were worse than folly, and yet he could not restrain them. + The creeping suspicion that this was only the result of the simple fact + that he had never tried to restrain any tendency of his own was maddening. + His nervous system was a wreck. He drank a great deal of whisky to keep + himself “straight” during the day, and he rose many times + during his black waking hours in the night to drink more because he + obstinately refused to give up the hope that, if he drank enough, it would + make him sleep. As through the thoughts of Mount Dunstan, who was a clean + and healthy human being, there ran one thread which would not disentangle + itself, so there ran through his unwholesome thinking a thread which + burned like fire. His secret ravings would not have been good to hear. His + passion was more than half hatred, and a desire for vengeance, for the + chance to re-assert his own power, to prove himself master, to get the + better in one way or another of this arrogant young outsider and her + high-handed pride. The condition of his mind was so far from normal that + he failed to see that the things he said to himself, the plans he laid, + were grotesque in their folly. The old cruel dominance of the man over the + woman thing, which had seemed the mere natural working of the law among + men of his race in centuries past, was awake in him, amid the limitations + of modern days. + </p> + <p> + “My God,” he said to himself more than once, “I would + like to have had her in my hands a few hundred years ago. Women were kept + in their places, then.” + </p> + <p> + He was even frenzied enough to think over what he would have done, if such + a thing had been—of her utter helplessness against that which raged + in him—of the grey thickness of the walls where he might have held + and wrought his will upon her—insult, torment, death. His + alcohol-excited brain ran riot—but, when it did its foolish worst, + he was baffled by one thing. + </p> + <p> + “Damn her!” he found himself crying out. “If I had hung + her up and cut her into strips she would have died staring at me with her + big eyes—without uttering a sound.” + </p> + <p> + There was a long reach between his imaginings and the time he lived in. + America had not been discovered in those decent days, and now a man could + not beat even his own wife, or spend her money, without being meddled with + by fools. He was thinking of a New York young woman of the nineteenth + century who could actually do as she hanged pleased, and who pleased to be + damned high and mighty. For that reason in itself it was incumbent upon a + man to get even with her in one way or another. High and mightiness was + not the hardest thing to reach. It offered a good aim. + </p> + <p> + His temper when he returned to Stornham was of the order which in past + years had set Rosalie and her child shuddering and had sent the servants + about the house with pale or sullen faces. Betty's presence had the odd + effect of restraining him, and he even told her so with sneering + resentment. + </p> + <p> + “There would be the devil to pay if you were not here,” he + said. “You keep me in order, by Jove! I can't work up steam properly + when you watch me.” + </p> + <p> + He himself knew that it was likely that some change would take place. She + would not stay at Stornham and she would not leave his wife and child + alone with him again. It would be like her to hold her tongue until she + was ready with her infernal plans and could spring them on him. Her + letters to her father had probably prepared him for such action as such a + man would be likely to take. He could guess what it would be. They were + free and easy enough in America in their dealings with the marriage tie. + Their idea would doubtless be a divorce with custody of the child. He + wondered a little that they had remained quiet so long. There had been + American shrewdness in her coming boldly to Stornham to look over the + ground herself and actually set the place in order. It did not present + itself to his mind that what she had done had been no part of a scheme, + but the mere result of her temperament and training. He told himself that + it had been planned beforehand and carried out in hard-headed commercial + American fashion as a matter of business. The thing which most enraged him + was the implied cool, practical realisation of the fact that he, as + inheritor of an entailed estate, was but owner in charge, and not young + enough to be regarded as an insurmountable obstacle to their plans. He + could not undo the greater part of what had been done, and they were + calculating, he argued, that his would not be likely to be a long life, + and if—if anything happened—Stornham would be Ughtred's and + the whole vulgar lot of them would come over and take possession and + swagger about the place as if they had been born on it. As to divorce or + separation—if they took that line, he would at least give them a + good run for their money. They would wish they had let sleeping dogs lie + before the thing was over. The right kind of lawyer could bully Rosalie + into saying anything he chose on the witness-stand. There was not much + limit to the evidence a man could bring if he was experienced enough to be + circumstantial, and knew whom he was dealing with. The very fact that the + little fool could be made to appear to have been so sly and sanctimonious + would stir the gall of any jury of men. His own condoning the matter for + the sake of his sensitive boy, deformed by his mother's unrestrained and + violent hysteria before his birth, would go a long way. Let them get their + divorce, they would have paid for it, the whole lot of them, the beautiful + Miss Vanderpoel and all. Such a story as the newspapers would revel in + would not be a recommendation to Englishmen of unsmirched reputation. Then + his exultation would suddenly drop as his mental excitement produced its + effect of inevitable physical fatigue. Even if he made them pay for + getting their own way, what would happen to himself afterwards? No morbid + vanity of self-bolstering could make the outlook anything but unpromising. + If he had not had such diabolical luck in his few investments he could + have lived his own life. As it was, old Vanderpoel would possibly + condescend to make him some insufficient allowance because Rosalie would + wish that it might be done, and he would be expected to drag out to the + end the kind of life a man pensioned by his wife's relatives inevitably + does. If he attempted to live in the country he should blow out his + brains. When his depression was at its worst, he saw himself aging and + shabby, rambling about from one cheap Continental town to another, + blackballed by good clubs, cold-shouldered even by the Teresitas, cut off + from society by his limited means and the stories his wife's friends would + spread. He ground his teeth when he thought of Betty. Her splendid + vitality had done something to life for him—had given it savour. + When he had come upon her in the avenue his blood had stirred, even though + it had been maliciously, and there had been spice in his very resentment + of her presence. And she would go away. He would not be likely to see her + again if his wife broke with him; she would be swept out of his days. It + was hideous to think of, and his rage would overpower him and his nerves + go to pieces again. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do?” he broke forth suddenly one + evening, when he found himself temporarily alone with her. “You are + going to do something. I see it in your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + He had been for some time watching her from behind his newspaper, while + she, with an unread book upon her lap, had, in fact, been thinking deeply + and putting to herself serious questions. + </p> + <p> + Her answer made him stir rather uncomfortably. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to write to my father to ask him to come to England.” + </p> + <p> + So this was what she had been preparing to spring upon him. He laughed + insolently. + </p> + <p> + “To ask him to come here?” + </p> + <p> + “With your permission.” + </p> + <p> + “With mine? Does an American father-in-law wait for permission?” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any practical reason why you should prefer that he should + NOT come?” + </p> + <p> + He left his seat and walked over to her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Your sending for him is a declaration of war.” + </p> + <p> + “It need not be so. Why should it?” + </p> + <p> + “In this case I happen to be aware that it is. The choice is your + own, I suppose,” with ready bravado, “that you and he are + prepared to face the consequences. But is Rosalie, and is your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “My father is a business man and will know what can be done. He will + know what is worth doing,” she answered, without noticing his + question. “But,” she added the words slowly, “I have + been making up my mind—before I write to him—to say something + to you—to ask you a question.” + </p> + <p> + He made a mock sentimental gesture. + </p> + <p> + “To ask me to spare my wife, to 'remember that she is the mother of + my child'?” + </p> + <p> + She passed over that also. + </p> + <p> + “To ask you if there is no possible way in which all this + unhappiness can be ended decently.” + </p> + <p> + “The only decent way of ending it would be that there should be no + further interference. Let Rosalie supply the decency by showing me the + consideration due from a wife to her husband. The place has been put in + order. It was not for my benefit, and I have no money to keep it up. Let + Rosalie be provided with means to do it.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke the words he realised that he had opened a way for + embarrassing comment. He expected her to remind him that Rosalie had not + come to him without money. But she said nothing about the matter. She + never said the things he expected to hear. + </p> + <p> + “You do not want Rosalie for your wife,” she went on “but + you could treat her courteously without loving her. You could allow her + the privileges other men's wives are allowed. You need not separate her + from her family. You could allow her father and mother to come to her and + leave her free to go to them sometimes. Will you not agree to that? Will + you not let her live peaceably in her own simple way? She is very gentle + and humble and would ask nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a fool!” he exclaimed furiously. “A fool! She + will stay where she is and do as I tell her.” + </p> + <p> + “You knew what she was when you married her. She was simple and + girlish and pretended to be nothing she was not. You chose to marry her + and take her from the people who loved her. You broke her spirit and her + heart. You would have killed her if I had not come in time to prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will kill her yet if you leave her,” his folly made him + say. + </p> + <p> + “You are talking like a feudal lord holding the power of life and + death in his hands,” she said. “Power like that is ancient + history. You can hurt no one who has friends—without being punished.” + </p> + <p> + It was the old story. She filled him with the desire to shake or disturb + her at any cost, and he did his utmost. If she was proposing to make terms + with him, he would show her whether he would accept them or not. He let + her hear all he had said to himself in his worst moments—all that he + had argued concerning what she and her people would do, and what his own + actions would be—all his intention to make them pay the uttermost + farthing in humiliation if he could not frustrate them. His methods would + be definite enough. He had not watched his wife and Ffolliott for weeks to + no end. He had known what he was dealing with. He had put other people + upon the track and they would testify for him. He poured forth unspeakable + statements and intimations, going, as usual, further than he had known he + should go when he began. Under the spur of excitement his imagination + served him well. At last he paused. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he put it to her, “what have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” with the remote intent curiosity growing in her eyes. + “I have nothing to say. I am leaving you to say things.” + </p> + <p> + “You will, of course, try to deny——” he insisted. + </p> + <p> + “No, I shall not. Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “You may assume your air of magnificence, but I am dealing with + uncomfortable factors.” He stopped in spite of himself, and then + burst forth in a new order of rage. “You are trying some confounded + experiment on me. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + She rose from her chair to go out of the room, and stood a moment holding + her book half open in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I suppose it might be called an experiment,” was her + answer. “Perhaps it was a mistake. I wanted to make quite sure of + something.” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “I did not want to leave anything undone. I did not want to believe + that any man could exist who had not one touch of decent feeling to redeem + him. It did not seem human.” + </p> + <p> + White dints showed themselves about his nostrils. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you have found one,” he cried. “You have a + lashing tongue, by God, when you choose to let it go. But I could teach + you a good many things, my girl. And before I have done you will have + learned most of them.” + </p> + <p> + But though he threw himself into a chair and laughed aloud as she left + him, he knew that his arrogance and bullying were proving poor weapons, + though they had done him good service all his life. And he knew, too, that + it was mere simple truth that, as a result of the intellectual, ethical + vagaries he scathingly derided—she had actually been giving him a + sort of chance to retrieve himself, and that if he had been another sort + of man he might have taken it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIV + </h2> + <h3> + A FOOTSTEP + </h3> + <p> + It was cold enough for fires in halls and bedrooms, and Lady Anstruthers + often sat over hers and watched the glowing bed of coals with a fixed + thoughtfulness of look. She was so sitting when her sister went to her + room to talk to her, and she looked up questioningly when the door closed + and Betty came towards her. + </p> + <p> + “You have come to tell me something,” she said. + </p> + <p> + A slight shade of anxiousness showed itself in her eyes, and Betty sat + down by her and took her hand. She had come because what she knew was that + Rosalie must be prepared for any step taken, and the time had arrived when + she must not be allowed to remain in ignorance even of things it would be + unpleasant to put into words. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered. “I want to talk to you about + something I have decided to do. I think I must write to father and ask him + to come to us.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie turned white, but though her lips parted as if she were going to + speak, she said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be frightened,” Betty said. “I believe it is the + only thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + “I know! I know!” + </p> + <p> + Betty went on, holding the hand a little closer. “When I came here + you were too weak physically to be able to face even the thought of a + struggle. I saw that. I was afraid it must come in the end, but I knew + that at that time you could not bear it. It would have killed you and + might have killed mother, if I had not waited; and until you were + stronger, I knew I must wait and reason coolly about you—about + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “I used to guess—sometimes,” said Lady Anstruthers. + </p> + <p> + “I can tell you about it now. You are not as you were then,” + Betty said. “I did not know Nigel at first, and I felt I ought to + see more of him. I wanted to make sure that my child hatred of him did not + make me unfair. I even tried to hope that when he came back and found the + place in order and things going well, he might recognise the wisdom of + behaving with decent kindness to you. If he had done that I knew father + would have provided for you both, though he would not have left him the + opportunity to do again what he did before. No business man would allow + such a thing as that. But as time has gone by I have seen I was mistaken + in hoping for a respectable compromise. Even if he were given a free hand + he would not change. And now——” She hesitated, feeling + it difficult to choose such words as would not be too unpleasant. How was + she to tell Rosy of the ugly, morbid situation which made ordinary + passiveness impossible. “Now there is a reason——” + she began again. + </p> + <p> + To her surprise and relief it was Rosalie who ended for her. She spoke + with the painful courage which strong affection gives a weak thing. Her + face was pale no longer, but slightly reddened, and she lifted the hand + which held hers and kissed it. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not say it,” she interrupted her. “I will. + There is a reason now why you cannot stay here—why you shall not + stay here. That was why I begged you to go. You must go, even if I stay + behind alone.” + </p> + <p> + Never had the beautiful Miss Vanderpoel's eyes worn so fully their look of + being bluebells under water. That this timid creature should so stand at + bay to defend her was more moving than anything else could have been. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Rosy—thank you,” she answered. “But + you shall not be left alone. You must go, too. There is no other way. + Difficulties will be made for us, but we must face them. Father will see + the situation from a practical man's standpoint. Men know the things other + men cannot do. Women don't. Generally they know nothing about the law and + can be bullied into feeling that it is dangerous and compromising to + inquire into it. Nigel has always seen that it was easy to manage women. A + strong business man who has more exact legal information than he has + himself will be a new factor to deal with. And he cannot make + objectionable love to him. It is because he knows these things that he + says that my sending for father will be a declaration of war.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say that?” a little breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I told him that it need not be so. But he would not + listen.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are sure father will come?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure. In a week or two he will be here.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' lips shook, her eyes lifted themselves to Betty's in a + touchingly distressed appeal. Had her momentary courage fled beyond + recall? If so, that would be the worst coming to the worst, indeed. Yet it + was not ordinary fear which expressed itself in her face, but a deeper + piteousness, a sudden hopeless pain, baffling because it seemed a new + emotion, or perhaps the upheaval of an old one long and carefully hidden. + </p> + <p> + “You will be brave?” Betty appealed to her. “You will + not give way, Rosy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must be brave—I am not ill now. I must not fail you—I + won't, Betty, but——” + </p> + <p> + She slipped upon the floor and dropped her face upon the girl's knee, + sobbing. + </p> + <p> + Betty bent over her, putting her arms round the heaving shoulders, and + pleading with her to speak. Was there something more to be told, something + she did not know? + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Oh, I ought to have told you long ago—but I have + always been afraid and ashamed. It has made everything so much worse. I + was afraid you would not understand and would think me wicked—wicked.” + </p> + <p> + It was Betty who now lost a shade of colour. But she held the slim little + body closer and kissed her sister's cheek. + </p> + <p> + “What have you been afraid and ashamed to tell me? Do not be ashamed + any more. You must not hide anything, no matter what it is, Rosy. I shall + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “I know I must not hide anything, now that all is over and father is + coming. It is—it is about Mr. Ffolliott.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ffolliott?” repeated Betty quite softly. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' face, lifted with desperate effort, was like a weeping + child's. So much so in its tear-wet simpleness and utter lack of any + effort at concealment, that after one quick look at it Betty's hastened + pulses ceased to beat at double-quick time. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, dear,” she almost whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Ffolliott himself does not know—and I could not help it. + He was kind to me when I was dying of unkindness. You don't know what it + was like to be drowning in loneliness and misery, and to see one good hand + stretched out to help you. Before he went away—oh, Betty, I know it + was awful because I was married!—I began to care for him very much, + and I have cared for him ever since. I cannot stop myself caring, even + though I am terrified.” + </p> + <p> + Betty kissed her again with a passion of tender pity. Poor little, simple + Rosy, too! The tide had crept around her also, and had swept her off her + feet, tossing her upon its surf like a wisp of seaweed and bearing her + each day farther from firm shore. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be terrified,” she said. “You need only be + afraid if—if you had told him.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never know—never. Once in the middle of the night,” + there was anguish in the delicate face, pure anguish, “a strange + loud cry wakened me, and it was I myself who had cried out—because + in my sleep it had come home to me that the years would go on and on, and + at last some day he would die and go out of the world—and I should + die and go out of the world. And he would never know—even KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + Betty's clasp of her loosened and she sat very still, looking straight + before her into some unseen place. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said involuntarily. “Yes, <i>I</i> know—I + know—I know.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers fell back a little to gaze at her. + </p> + <p> + “YOU know? YOU know?” she breathed. “Betty?” + </p> + <p> + But Betty at first did not speak. Her lovely eyes dwelt on the far-away + place. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” whispered Rosy, “do you know what you have + said?” + </p> + <p> + The lovely eyes turned slowly towards her, and the soft corners of Betty's + mouth deepened in a curious unsteadiness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I did not intend to say it. But it is true. <i>I</i> know—I + know—I know. Do not ask me how.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie flung her arms round her waist and for a moment hid her face. + </p> + <p> + “YOU! YOU!” she murmured, but stopped herself almost as she + uttered the exclamation. “I will not ask you,” she said when + she spoke again. “But now I shall not be so ashamed. You are a + beauty and wonderful, and I am not; but if you KNOW, that makes us almost + the same. You will understand why I broke down. It was because I could not + bear to think of what will happen. I shall be saved and taken home, but + Nigel will wreak revenge on HIM. And I shall be the shame that is put upon + him—only because he was kind—KIND. When father comes it will + all begin.” She wrung her hands, becoming almost hysterical. + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said Betty. “Hush! A man like that CANNOT be + hurt, even by a man like Nigel. There is a way out—there IS. Oh, + Rosy, we must BELIEVE it.” + </p> + <p> + She soothed and caressed her and led her on to relieving her long + locked-up misery by speech. It was easy to see the ways in which her + feeling had made her life harder to bear. She was as inexperienced as a + girl, and had accused herself cruelly. When Nigel had tormented her with + evil, carefully chosen taunts, she had felt half guilty and had coloured + scarlet or turned pale, afraid to meet his sneeringly smiling face. She + had tried to forget the kind voice, the kindly, understanding eyes, and + had blamed herself as a criminal because she could not. + </p> + <p> + “I had nothing else to remember—but unhappiness—and it + seemed as if I could not help but remember HIM,” she said as simply + as the Rosy who had left New York at nineteen might have said it. “I + was afraid to trust myself to speak his name. When Nigel made insulting + speeches I could not answer him, and he used to say that women who had + adventures should train their faces not to betray them every time they + were looked at. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” broke from Betty's lips, and she stood up on the hearth + and threw out her hands. “I wish that for one day I might be a man—and + your brother instead of your sister!” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + Betty smiled strangely—a smile which was not amused—which was + perhaps not a smile at all. Her voice as she answered was at once low and + tense. + </p> + <p> + “Because, then I should know what to do. When a male creature cannot + be reached through manhood or decency or shame, there is one way in which + he can be punished. A man—a real man—should take him by his + throat and lash him with a whip—while others look on—lash him + until he howls aloud like a dog.” + </p> + <p> + She had not expected to say it, but she had said it. Lady Anstruthers + looked at her fascinated, and then she covered her face with her hands, + huddling herself in a heap as she knelt on the rug, looking singularly + small and frail. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” she said presently, in a new, awful little voice, + “I—I will tell you something. I never thought I should dare to + tell anyone alive. I have shuddered at it myself. There have been days—awful, + helpless days, when I was sure there was no hope for me in all the world—when + deep down in my soul I understood what women felt when they MURDERED + people—crept to them in their wicked sleep and STRUCK them again—and + again—and again. Like that!” She sat up suddenly, as if she + did not know what she was doing, and uncovering her little ghastly face + struck downward three fierce times at nothingness—but as if it were + not nothingness, and as if she held something in her hand. + </p> + <p> + There was horror in it—Betty sprang at the hand and caught it. + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” she cried out. “Poor little Rosy! Darling + little Rosy! No! no! no!” + </p> + <p> + That instant Lady Anstruthers looked up at her shocked and awake. She was + Rosy again, and clung to her, holding to her dress, piteous and panting. + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” she said. “When it came to me in the night—it + was always in the night—I used to get out of bed and pray that it + might never, never come again, and that I might be forgiven—just + forgiven. It was too horrible that I should even UNDERSTAND it so well.” + A woeful, wry little smile twisted her mouth. “I was not brave + enough to have done it. I could never have DONE it, Betty; but the thought + was there—it was there! I used to think it had made a black mark on + my soul.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + The letter took long to write. It led a consecutive story up to the point + where it culminated in a situation which presented itself as no longer to + be dealt with by means at hand. Parts of the story previous letters had + related, though some of them it had not seemed absolutely necessary to + relate in detail. Now they must be made clear, and Betty made them so. + </p> + <p> + “Because you trusted me you made me trust myself,” was one of + the things she wrote. “For some time I felt that it was best to + fight for my own hand without troubling you. I hoped perhaps I might be + able to lead things to a decorous sort of issue. I saw that secretly Rosy + hoped and prayed that it might be possible. She gave up expecting + happiness before she was twenty, and mere decent peace would have seemed + heaven to her, if she could have been allowed sometimes to see those she + loved and longed for. Now that I must give up my hope—which was + perhaps a rather foolish one—and now that I cannot remain at + Stornham, she would have no defence at all if she were left alone. Her + condition would be more hopeless than before, because Nigel would never + forget that we had tried to rescue her and had failed. If I were a man, or + if I were very much older, I need not be actually driven away, but as it + is I think that you must come and take the matter into your own hands.” + </p> + <p> + She had remained in her sister's room until long after midnight, and by + the time the American letter was completed and sealed, a pale touch of + dawning light was showing itself. She rose, and going to the window drew + the blind up and looked out. The looking out made her open the window, and + when she had done so she stood feeling the almost unearthly freshness of + the morning about her. The mystery of the first faint light was almost + unearthly, too. Trees and shrubs were beginning to take form and outline + themselves against the still pallor of the dawn. Before long the waking of + the birds would begin—a brief chirping note here and there breaking + the silence and warning the world with faint insistence that it had begun + to live again and must bestir itself. She had got out of her bed sometimes + on a summer morning to watch the beauty of it, to see the flowers + gradually reveal their colour to the eye, to hear the warmly nesting + things begin their joyous day. There were fewer bird sounds now, and the + garden beds were autumnal. But how beautiful it all was! How wonderful + life in such a place might be if flowers and birds and sweep of sward, and + mass of stately, broad-branched trees, were parts of the home one loved + and which surely would in its own way love one in return. But soon all + this phase of life would be over. Rosalie, once safe at home, would look + back, remembering the place with a shudder. As Ughtred grew older the + passing of years would dim miserable child memories, and when his + inheritance fell to him he might return to see it with happier eyes. She + began to picture to herself Rosy's voyage in the ship which would carry + her across the Atlantic to her mother and the scenes connected in her mind + only with a girl's happiness. Whatsoever happened before it took place, + the voyage would be made in the end. And Rosalie would be like a creature + in a dream—a heavenly, unbelievable dream. Betty could imagine how + she would look wrapped up and sitting in her steamer chair, gazing out + with rapturous eyes upon the racing waves. + </p> + <p> + “She will be happy,” she thought. “But I shall not. No, + I shall not.” + </p> + <p> + She drew in the morning air and unconsciously turned towards the place + where, across the rising and falling lands and behind the trees, she knew + the great white house stood far away, with watchers' lights showing dimly + behind the line of ballroom windows. + </p> + <p> + “I do not know how such a thing could be! I do not know how such a + thing could be!” she said. “It COULD not.” And she + lifted a high head, not even asking herself what remote sense in her being + so obstinately defied and threw down the glove to Fate. + </p> + <p> + Sounds gain a curious distinctness and meaning in the hour of the break of + the dawn; in such an hour they seem even more significant than sounds + heard in the dead of night. When she had gone to the window she had + fancied that she heard something in the corridor outside her door, but + when she had listened there had been only silence. Now there was sound + again—that of a softly moved slippered foot. She went to the room's + centre and waited. Yes, certainly something had stirred in the passage. + She went to the door itself. The dragging step had hesitated—stopped. + Could it be Rosalie who had come to her for something. For one second her + impulse was to open the door herself; the next, she had changed her mind + with a sense of shock. Someone had actually touched the handle and very + delicately turned it. It was not pleasant to stand looking at it and see + it turn. She heard a low, evidently unintentionally uttered exclamation, + and she turned away, and with no attempt at softening the sound of her + footsteps walked across the room, hot with passionate disgust. As well as + if she had flung the door open, she knew who stood outside. It was Nigel + Anstruthers, haggard and unseemly, with burned-out, sleepless eyes and + bitten lip. + </p> + <p> + Bad and mad as she had at last seen the situation to be, it was uglier and + more desperate than she could well know. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLV + </h2> + <h3> + THE PASSING BELL + </h3> + <p> + The following morning Sir Nigel did not appear at the breakfast table. He + breakfasted in his own room, and it became known throughout the household + that he had suddenly decided to go away, and his man was packing for the + journey. What the journey or the reason for its being taken happened to be + were things not explained to anyone but Lady Anstruthers, at the door of + whose dressing room he appeared without warning, just as she was leaving + it. + </p> + <p> + Rosalie started when she found herself confronting him. His eyes looked + hot and hollow with feverish sleeplessness. + </p> + <p> + “You look ill,” she exclaimed involuntarily. “You look + as if you had not slept.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You always encourage a man. I am not in the habit of + sleeping much,” he answered. “I am going away for my health. + It is as well you should know. I am going to look up old Broadmorlands. I + want to know exactly where he is, in case it becomes necessary for me to + see him. I also require some trifling data connected with Ffolliott. If + your father is coming, it will be as well to be able to lay my hands on + things. You can explain to Betty. Good-morning.” He waited for no + reply, but wheeled about and left her. + </p> + <p> + Betty herself wore a changed face when she came down. A cloud had passed + over her blooming, as clouds pass over a morning sky and dim it. Rosalie + asked herself if she had not noticed something like this before. She began + to think she had. Yes, she was sure that at intervals there had been + moments when she had glanced at the brilliant face with an uneasy and yet + half-unrealising sense of looking at a glowing light temporarily waning. + The feeling had been unrealisable, because it was not to be explained. + Betty was never ill, she was never low-spirited, she was never out of + humour or afraid of things—that was why it was so wonderful to live + with her. But—yes, it was true—there had been days when the + strong, fine light of her had waned. Lady Anstruthers' comprehension of it + arose now from her memory of the look she had seen the night before in the + eyes which suddenly had gazed straight before her, as into an unknown + place. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know—I know—I know!” And the tone in the + girl's voice had been one Rosy had not heard before. + </p> + <p> + Slight wonder—if you KNEW—at any outward change which showed + itself, though in your own most desperate despite. It would be so even + with Betty, who, in her sister's eyes, was unlike any other creature. But + perhaps it would be better to make no comment. To make comment would be + almost like asking the question she had been forbidden to ask. + </p> + <p> + While the servants were in the room during breakfast they talked of common + things, resorting even to the weather and the news of the village. + Afterwards they passed into the morning room together, and Betty put her + arm around Rosalie and kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Nigel has suddenly gone away, I hear,” she said. “Do + you know where he has gone?” + </p> + <p> + “He came to my dressing-room to tell me.” Betty felt the whole + slim body stiffen itself with a determination to seem calm. “He said + he was going to find out where the old Duke of Broadmorlands was staying + at present.” + </p> + <p> + “There is some forethought in that,” was Betty's answer. + “He is not on such terms with the Duke that he can expect to be + received as a casual visitor. It will require apt contrivance to arrange + an interview. I wonder if he will be able to accomplish it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he will,” said Lady Anstruthers. “I think he can + always contrive things like that.” She hesitated a moment, and then + added: “He said also that he wished to find out certain things about + Mr. Ffolliott—'trifling data,' he called it—that he might be + able to lay his hands on things if father came. He told me to explain to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “That was intended for a taunt—but it's a warning,” + Betty said, thinking the thing over. “We are rather like ladies left + alone to defend a besieged castle. He wished us to feel that.” She + tightened her enclosing arm. “But we stand together—together. + We shall not fail each other. We can face siege until father comes.” + </p> + <p> + “You wrote to him last night?” + </p> + <p> + “A long letter, which I wish him to receive before he sails. He + might decide to act upon it before leaving New York, to advise with some + legal authority he knows and trusts, to prepare our mother in some way—to + do some wise thing we cannot foresee the value of. He has known the + outline of the story, but not exact details—particularly recent + ones. I have held back nothing it was necessary he should know. I am going + out to post the letter myself. I shall send a cable asking him to prepare + to come to us after he has reflected on what I have written.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie was very quiet, but when, having left the room to prepare to go to + the village, Betty came back to say a last word, her sister came to her + and laid her hand on her arm. + </p> + <p> + “I have been so weak and trodden upon for years that it would not be + natural for you to quite trust me,” she said. “But I won't + fail you, Betty—I won't.” + </p> + <p> + The winter was drawing in, the last autumn days were short and often grey + and dreary; the wind had swept the leaves from the trees and scattered + them over park lands and lanes, where they lay a mellow-hued, rustling + carpet, shifting with each chill breeze that blew. The berried briony + garlands clung to the bared hedges, and here and there flared scarlet, + still holding their red defiantly until hard frosts should come to shrivel + and blacken them. The rare hours of sunshine were amber hours instead of + golden. + </p> + <p> + As she passed through the park gate Betty was thinking of the first + morning on which she had walked down the village street between the + irregular rows of red-tiled cottages with the ragged little enclosing + gardens. Then the air and sunshine had been of the just awakening spring, + now the sky was brightly cold, and through the small-paned windows she + caught glimpses of fireglow. A bent old man walking very slowly, leaning + upon two sticks, had a red-brown woollen muffler wrapped round his neck. + Seeing her, he stopped and shuffled the two sticks into one hand that he + might leave the other free to touch his wrinkled forehead stiffly, his + face stretching into a slow smile as she stopped to speak to him. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Marlow,” he said. “How is the rheumatism + to-day?” + </p> + <p> + He was a deaf old man, whose conversation was carried on principally by + guesswork, and it was easy for him to gather that when her ladyship's + handsome young sister had given him greeting she had not forgotten to + inquire respecting the “rheumatics,” which formed the greater + part of existence. + </p> + <p> + “Mornin', miss—mornin',” he answered in the high, + cracked voice of rural ancientry. “Winter be nigh, an' they damp + days be full of rheumatiz. 'T'int easy to get about on my old legs, but I + be main thankful for they warm things you sent, miss. This 'ere,” + fumbling at his red-brown muffler proudly, “'tis a comfort on windy + days, so 'tis, and warmth be a good thing to a man when he be goin' down + hill in years.” + </p> + <p> + “All of you who are not able to earn your own fires shall be warm + this winter,” her ladyship's handsome sister said, speaking closer + to his ear. “You shall all be warm. Don't be afraid of the cold days + coming.” + </p> + <p> + He shuffled his sticks and touched his forehead again, looking up at her + admiringly and chuckling. + </p> + <p> + “'T'will be a new tale for Stornham village,” he cackled. + “'T'will be a new tale. Thank ye, miss. Thank ye.” + </p> + <p> + As she nodded smilingly and passed on, she heard him cackling still under + his breath as he hobbled on his slow way, comforted and elate. How almost + shamefully easy it was; a few loads of coal and faggots here and there, a + few blankets and warm garments whose cost counted for so little when one's + hands were full, could change a gruesome village winter into a season + during which labour-stiffened and broken old things, closing their cottage + doors, could draw their chairs round the hearth and hover luxuriously over + the red glow, which in its comforting fashion of seeming to have + understanding of the dull dreams in old eyes, was more to be loved than + any human friend. + </p> + <p> + But she had not needed her passing speech with Marlow to stimulate + realisation of how much she had learned to care for the mere living among + these people, to whom she seemed to have begun to belong, and whose + comfortably lighting faces when they met her showed that they knew her to + be one who might be turned to in any hour of trouble or dismay. The + centuries which had trained them to depend upon their “betters” + had taught the slowest of them to judge with keen sight those who were to + be trusted, not alone as power and wealth holders, but as creatures + humanly upright and merciful with their kind. + </p> + <p> + “Workin' folk allus knows gentry,” old Doby had once shrilled + to her. “Gentry's gentry, an' us knows 'em wheresoever they be. + Better'n they know theirselves. So us do!” + </p> + <p> + Yes, they knew. And though they accepted many things as being merely their + natural rights, they gave an unsentimental affection and appreciation in + return. The patriarchal note in the life was lovable to her. Each creature + she passed was a sort of friend who seemed almost of her own blood. It had + come to that. This particular existence was more satisfying to her than + any other, more heart-filling and warmly complete. + </p> + <p> + “Though I am only an impostor,” she thought; “I was born + in Fifth Avenue; yet since I have known this I shall be quite happy in no + other place than an English village, with a Norman church tower looking + down upon it and rows of little gardens with spears of white and blue + lupins and Canterbury bells standing guard before cottage doors.” + </p> + <p> + And Rosalie—on the evening of that first strange day when she had + come upon her piteous figure among the heather under the trees near the + lake—Rosalie had held her arm with a hot little hand and had said + feverishly: + </p> + <p> + “If I could hear the roar of Broadway again! Do the stages rattle as + they used to, Betty? I can't help hoping that they do.” + </p> + <p> + She carried her letter to the post and stopped to talk a few minutes with + the postmaster, who transacted his official business in a small shop where + sides of bacon and hams hung suspended from the ceiling, while groceries, + flannels, dress prints, and glass bottles of sweet stuff filled the + shelves. “Mr. Tewson's” was the central point of Stornham in a + commercial sense. The establishment had also certain social + qualifications. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tewson knew the secrets of all hearts within the village radius, also + the secrets of all constitutions. He knew by some occult means who had + been “taken bad,” or who had “taken a turn,” and + was aware at once when anyone was “sinkin' fast.” With such + differences of opinion as occasionally arose between the vicar and his + churchwardens he was immediately familiar. The history of the fever among + the hop pickers at Dunstan village he had been able to relate in detail + from the moment of its outbreak. It was he who had first dramatically + revealed the truth of the action Miss Vanderpoel had taken in the matter, + which revelation had aroused such enthusiasm as had filled The Clock Inn + to overflowing and given an impetus to the sale of beer. Tread, it was + said, had even made a speech which he had ended with vague but excellent + intentions by proposing the joint healths of her ladyship's sister and the + “President of America.” Mr. Tewson was always glad to see Miss + Vanderpoel cross his threshold. This was not alone because she represented + the custom of the Court, which since her arrival had meant large regular + orders and large bills promptly paid, but that she brought with her an + exotic atmosphere of interest and excitement. + </p> + <p> + He had mentioned to friends that somehow a talk with her made him feel + “set up for the day.” Betty was not at all sure that he did + not prepare and hoard up choice remarks or bits of information as openings + to conversation. + </p> + <p> + This morning he had thrilling news for her and began with it at once. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Fenwick at Stornham is very low, miss,” he said. “He's + very low, you'll be sorry to hear. The worry about the fever upset him + terrible and his bronchitis took him bad. He's an old man, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel was very sorry to hear it. It was quite in the natural + order of things that she should ask other questions about Dunstan village + and the Mount, and she asked several. + </p> + <p> + The fever was dying out and pale convalescents were sometimes seen in the + village or strolling about the park. His lordship was taking care of the + people and doing his best for them until they should be strong enough to + return to their homes. + </p> + <p> + “But he's very strict about making it plain that it's you, miss, + they have to thank for what he does.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not quite just,” said Miss Vanderpoel. “He and + Mr. Penzance fought on the field. I only supplied some of the ammunition.” + </p> + <p> + “The county doesn't think of him as it did even a year ago, miss,” + said Tewson rather smugly. “He was very ill thought of then among + the gentry. It's wonderful the change that's come about. If he should fall + ill there'll be a deal of sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope there is no question of his falling ill,” said Miss + Vanderpoel. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tewson lowered his voice confidentially. This was really his most + valuable item of news. + </p> + <p> + “Well, miss,” he admitted, “I have heard that he's been + looking very bad for a good bit, and it was told me quite private, because + the doctors and the vicar don't want the people to be upset by hearing it—that + for a week he's not been well enough to make his rounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” The exclamation was a faint one, but it was an + exclamation. “I hope that means nothing really serious,” Miss + Vanderpoel added. “Everyone will hope so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss,” said Mr. Tewson, deftly twisting the string round + the package he was tying up for her. “A sad reward it would be if he + lost his life after doing all he has done. A sad reward! But there'd be a + good deal of sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + The small package contained trifles of sewing and knitting materials she + was going to take to Mrs. Welden, and she held out her hand for it. She + knew she did not smile quite naturally as she said her good-morning to + Tewson. She went out into the pale amber sunshine and stood a few moments, + glad to find herself bathed in it again. She suddenly needed air and + light. “A sad reward!” Sometimes people were not rewarded. + Brave men were shot dead on the battlefield when they were doing brave + things; brave physicians and nurses died of the plagues they faithfully + wrestled with. Here were dread and pain confronting her—Betty + Vanderpoel—and while almost everyone else seemed to have faced them, + she was wholly unused to their appalling clutch. What a life hers had been—that + in looking back over it she should realise that she had never been touched + by anything like this before! There came back to her the look of almost + awed wonder in G. Selden's honest eyes when he said: “What it must + be to be you—just YOU!” He had been thinking only of the + millions and of the freedom from all everyday anxieties the millions gave. + She smiled faintly as the thought crossed her brain. The millions! The + rolling up of them year by year, because millions were breeders! The + newspaper stories of them—the wonder at and belief in their power! + It was all going on just as before, and yet here stood a Vanderpoel in an + English village street, of no more worth as far as power to aid herself + went than Joe Buttle's girl with the thick waist and round red cheeks. + Jenny Buttle would have believed that her ladyship's rich American sister + could do anything she chose, open any door, command any presence, sweep + aside any obstacle with a wave of her hand. But of the two, Jenny Buttle's + path would have laid straighter before her. If she had had “a young + man” who had fallen ill she would have been free if his mother had + cherished no objection to their “walking out”—to spend + all her spare hours in his cottage, making gruel and poultices, crying + until her nose and eyes were red, and pouring forth her hopes and fears to + any neighbour who came in or out or hung over the dividing garden hedge. + If the patient died, the deeper her mourning and the louder her sobs at + his funeral the more respectable and deserving of sympathy and admiration + would Jenny Buttle have been counted. Her ladyship's rich American sister + had no “young man”; she had not at any time been asked to + “walk out.” Even in the dark days of the fever, each of which + had carried thought and action of hers to the scene of trouble, there had + reigned unbroken silence, except for the vicar's notes of warm and + appreciative gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “You are very obstinate, Fergus,” Mr. Penzance had said. + </p> + <p> + And Mount Dunstan had shaken his head fiercely and answered: + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak to me about it. Only obstinacy will save me from + behaving like—other blackguards.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance, carefully polishing his eyeglasses as he watched him, was + not sparing in his comment. + </p> + <p> + “That is pure folly,” he said, “pure bull-necked, + stubborn folly, charging with its head down. Before it has done with you + it will have made you suffer quite enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Be sure of that,” Mount Dunstan had said, setting his teeth, + as he sat in his chair clasping his hands behind his head and glowering + into space. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Penzance quietly, speculatively, looked him over, and reflected aloud—or, + so it sounded. + </p> + <p> + “It is a big-boned and big-muscled characteristic, but there are + things which are stronger. Some one minute will arrive—just one + minute—which will be stronger. One of those moments when the + mysteries of the universe are at work.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak to me like that, I tell you!” Mount Dunstan broke + out passionately. And he sprang up and marched out of the room like an + angry man. + </p> + <p> + Miss Vanderpoel did not go to Mrs. Welden's cottage at once, but walked + past its door down the lane, where there were no more cottages, but only + hedges and fields on either side of her. “Not well enough to make + his rounds” might mean much or little. It might mean a temporary + breakdown from overfatigue or a sickening for deadly illness. She looked + at a group of cropping sheep in a field and at a flock of rooks which had + just alighted near it with cawing and flapping of wings. She kept her eyes + on them merely to steady herself. The thoughts she had brought out with + her had grown heavier and were horribly difficult to control. One must not + allow one's self to believe the worst will come—one must not allow + it. + </p> + <p> + She always held this rule before herself, and now she was not holding it + steadily. There was nothing to do. She could write a mere note of inquiry + to Mr. Penzance, but that was all. She could only walk up and down the + lanes and think—whether he lay dying or not. She could do nothing, + even if a day came when she knew that a pit had been dug in the clay and + he had been lowered into it with creaking ropes, and the clods shovelled + back upon him where he lay still—never having told her that he was + glad that her being had turned to him and her heart cried aloud his name. + She recalled with curious distinctness the effect of the steady toll of + the church bell—the “passing bell.” + </p> + <p> + She could hear it as she had heard it the first time it fell upon her ear, + and she had inquired what it meant. Why did they call it the “passing + bell”? All had passed before it began to toll—all had passed. + If it tolled at Dunstan and the pit was dug in the churchyard before her + father came, would he see, the moment they met, that something had + befallen her—that the Betty he had known was changed—gone? + Yes, he would see. Affection such as his always saw. Then he would sit + alone with her in some quiet room and talk to her, and she would tell him + the strange thing that had happened. He would understand—perhaps + better than she. + </p> + <p> + She stopped abruptly in her walk and stood still. The hand holding her + package was quite cold. This was what one must not allow one's self. But + how the thoughts had raced through her brain! She turned and hastened her + steps towards Mrs. Welden's cottage. + </p> + <p> + In Mrs. Welden's tiny back yard there stood a “coal lodge” + suited to the size of the domicile and already stacked with a full + winter's supply of coal. Therefore the well-polished and cleanly little + grate in the living-room was bright with fire. + </p> + <p> + Old Doby, who had tottered round the corner to pay his fellow gossip a + visit, was sitting by it, and old Mrs. Welden, clean as to cap and apron + and small purple shoulder shawl, had evidently been allaying his natural + anxiety as to the conduct of foreign sovereigns by reading in a loud voice + the “print” under the pictures in an illustrated paper. + </p> + <p> + This occupation had, however, been interrupted a few moments before Miss + Vanderpoel's arrival. Mrs. Bester, the neighbour in the next cottage, had + stepped in with her youngest on her hip and was talking breathlessly. She + paused to drop her curtsy as Betty entered, and old Doby stood up and made + his salute with a trembling hand, + </p> + <p> + “She'll know,” he said. “Gentry knows the ins an' outs + of gentry fust. She'll know the rights.” + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bester unexpectedly burst into tears. There was an element in the + female villagers' temperament which Betty had found was frequently + unexpected in its breaking forth. + </p> + <p> + “He's down, miss,” she said. “He's down with it crool + bad. There'll be no savin' of him—none.” + </p> + <p> + Betty laid her package of sewing cotton and knitting wool quietly on the + blue and white checked tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Who—is he?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “His lordship—and him just saved all Dunstan parish from death—to + go like this!” + </p> + <p> + In Stornham village and in all others of the neighbourhood the feminine + attitude towards Mount Dunstan had been one of strongly emotional + admiration. The thwarted female longing for romance—the desire for + drama and a hero had been fed by him. A fine, big young man, one that had + been “spoke ill of” and regarded as an outcast, had suddenly + turned the tables on fortune and made himself the central figure of the + county, the talk of gentry in their grand houses, of cottage women on + their doorsteps, and labourers stopping to speak to each other by the + roadside. Magic stories had been told of him, beflowered with dramatic + detail. No incident could have been related to his credit which would not + have been believed and improved upon. Shut up in his village working among + his people and unseen by outsiders, he had become a popular idol. Any + scrap of news of him—any rumour, true or untrue, was seized upon and + excitedly spread abroad. Therefore Mrs. Bester wept as she talked, and, if + the truth must be told, enjoyed the situation. She was the first to tell + the story to her ladyship's sister herself, as well as to Mrs. Welden and + old Doby. + </p> + <p> + “It's Tom as brought it in,” she said. “He's my brother, + miss, an' he's one of the ringers. He heard it from Jem Wesgate, an' he + heard it at Toomy's farm. They've been keepin' it hid at the Mount because + the people that's ill hangs on his lordship so that the doctors daren't + let them know the truth. They've been told he had to go to London an' may + come back any day. What Tom was sayin', miss, was that we'd all know when + it was over, for we'd hear the church bell toll here same as it'd toll at + Dunstan, because they ringers have talked it over an' they're goin' to + talk it over to-day with the other parishes—Yangford an' Meltham an' + Dunholm an' them. Tom says Stornham ringers met just now at The Clock an' + said that for a man that's stood by labouring folk like he has, toll they + will, an' so ought the other parishes, same as if he was royalty, for he's + made himself nearer. They'll toll the minute they hear it, miss. Lord help + us!” with a fresh outburst of crying. “It don't seem like it's + fair as it should be. When we hear the bell toll, miss——” + </p> + <p> + “Don't!” said her ladyship's handsome sister suddenly. “Please + don't say it again.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down by the table, and resting her elbows on the blue and white + checked cloth, covered her face with her hands. She did not speak at all. + In this tiny room, with these two old souls who loved her, she need not + explain. She sat quite still, and Mrs. Welden after looking at her for a + few seconds was prompted by some sublimely simple intuition, and gently + sidled Mrs. Bester and her youngest into the little kitchen, where the + copper was. + </p> + <p> + “Her helpin' him like she did, makes it come near,” she + whispered. “Dessay it seems as if he was a'most like a relation.” + </p> + <p> + Old Doby sat and looked at his goddess. In his slowly moving old brain + stirred far-off memories like long-dead things striving to come to life. + He did not know what they were, but they wakened his dim eyes to a new + seeing of the slim young shape leaning a little forward, the soft cloud of + hair, the fair beauty of the cheek. He had not seen anything like it in + his youth, but—it was Youth itself, and so was that which the + ringers were so soon to toll for; and for some remote and unformed reason, + to his scores of years they were pitiful and should be cheered. He bent + forward himself and put out his ancient, veined and knotted, gnarled and + trembling hand, to timorously touch the arm of her he worshipped and + adored. + </p> + <p> + “God bless ye!” he said, his high, cracked voice even more + shrill and thin than usual. “God bless ye!” And as she let her + hands slip down, and, turning, gently looked at him, he nodded to her + speakingly, because out of the dimness of his being, some part of Nature's + working had strangely answered and understood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVI + </h2> + <h3> + LISTENING + </h3> + <p> + On her way back to the Court her eyes saw only the white road before her + feet as she walked. She did not lift them until she found herself passing + the lych-gate at the entrance to the churchyard. Then suddenly she looked + up at the square grey stone tower where the bells hung, and from which + they called the village to church, or chimed for weddings—or gave + slowly forth to the silent air one heavy, regular stroke after another. + She looked and shuddered, and spoke aloud with a curious, passionate + imploring, like a child's. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't toll! Don't toll! You must not! You cannot!” Terror + had sprung upon her, and her heart was being torn in two in her breast. + That was surely what it seemed like—this agonising ache of fear. Now + from hour to hour she would be waiting and listening to each sound borne + on the air. Her thought would be a possession she could not escape. When + she spoke or was spoken to, she would be listening—when she was + silent every echo would hold terror, when she slept—if sleep should + come to her—her hearing would be awake, and she would be listening—listening + even then. It was not Betty Vanderpoel who was walking along the white + road, but another creature—a girl whose brain was full of abnormal + thought, and whose whole being made passionate outcry against the thing + which was being slowly forced upon her. If the bell tolled—suddenly, + the whole world would be swept clean of life—empty and clean. If the + bell tolled. + </p> + <p> + Before the entrance of the Court she saw, as she approached it, the + vicarage pony carriage, standing as it had stood on the day she had + returned from her walk on the marshes. She felt it quite natural that it + should be there. Mrs. Brent always seized upon any fragment of news, and + having seized on something now, she had not been able to resist the + excitement of bringing it to Lady Anstruthers and her sister. + </p> + <p> + She was in the drawing-room with Rosalie, and was full of her subject and + the emotion suitable to the occasion. She had even attained a certain + modified dampness of handkerchief. Rosalie's handkerchief, however, was + not damp. She had not even attempted to use it, but sat still, her eyes + brimming with tears, which, when she saw Betty, brimmed over and slipped + helplessly down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Betty!” she exclaimed, and got up and went towards her, + “I believe you have heard.” + </p> + <p> + “In the village, I heard something—yes,” Betty answered, + and after giving greeting to Mrs. Brent, she led her sister back to her + chair, and sat near her. + </p> + <p> + This—the thought leaped upon her—was the kind of situation she + must be prepared to be equal to. In the presence of these who knew + nothing, she must bear herself as if there was nothing to be known. No one + but herself had the slightest knowledge of what the past months had + brought to her—no one in the world. If the bell tolled, no one in + the world but her father ever would know. She had no excuse for emotion. + None had been given to her. The kind of thing it was proper that she + should say and do now, in the presence of Mrs. Brent, it would be proper + and decent that she should say and do in all other cases. She must comport + herself as Betty Vanderpoel would if she were moved only by ordinary human + sympathy and regret. + </p> + <p> + “We must remember that we have only excited rumour to depend upon,” + she said. “Lord Mount Dunstan has kept his village under almost + military law. He has put it into quarantine. No one is allowed to leave + it, so there can be no direct source of information. One cannot be sure of + the entire truth of what one hears. Often it is exaggerated cottage talk. + The whole neighbourhood is wrought up to a fever heat of excited sympathy. + And villagers like the drama of things.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brent looked at her admiringly, it being her fixed habit to admire + Miss Vanderpoel, and all such as Providence had set above her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how wise you are, Miss Vanderpoel!” she exclaimed, even + devoutly. “It is so nice of you to be calm and logical when + everybody else is so upset. You are quite right about villagers enjoying + the dramatic side of troubles. They always do. And perhaps things are not + so bad as they say. I ought not to have let myself believe the worst. But + I quite broke down under the ringers—I was so touched.” + </p> + <p> + “The ringers?” faltered Lady Anstruthers + </p> + <p> + “The leader came to the vicar to tell him they wanted permission to + toll—if they heard tolling at Dunstan. Weaver's family lives within + hearing of Dunstan church bells, and one of his boys is to run across the + fields and bring the news to Stornham. And it was most touching, Miss + Vanderpoel. They feel, in their rustic way, that Lord Mount Dunstan has + not been treated fairly in the past. And now he seems to them a hero and a + martyr—or like a great soldier who has died fighting.” + </p> + <p> + “Who MAY die fighting,” broke from Miss Vanderpoel sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Who—who may——” Mrs. Brent corrected + herself, “though Heaven grant he will not. But it was the ringers + who made me feel as if all really was over. Thank you, Miss Vanderpoel, + thank you for being so practical and—and cool.” + </p> + <p> + “It WAS touching,” said Lady Anstruthers, her eyes brimming + over again. “And what the villagers feel is true. It goes to one's + heart,” in a little outburst. “People have been unkind to him! + And he has been lonely in that great empty place—he has been lonely. + And if he is dying to-day, he is lonely even as he dies—even as he + dies.” + </p> + <p> + Betty drew a deep breath. For one moment there seemed to rise before her + vision of a huge room, whose stately size made its bareness a more + desolate thing. And Mr. Penzance bent low over the bed. She tore her + thought away from it. + </p> + <p> + “No! No!” she cried out in low, passionate protest. “There + will be love and yearning all about him everywhere. The villagers who are + waiting—the poor things he has worked for—the very ringers + themselves, are all pouring forth the same thoughts. He will feel even + ours—ours too! His soul cannot be lonely.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes earlier, Mrs. Brent had been saying to herself inwardly: + “She has not much heart after all, you know.” Now she looked + at her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + The blue bells were under water in truth—drenched and drowned. And + yet as the girl stood up before her, she looked taller—more the + magnificent Miss Vanderpoel than ever—though she expressed a new + meaning. + </p> + <p> + “There is one thing the villagers can do for him,” she said. + “One thing we can all do. The bell has not tolled yet. There is a + service for those who are—in peril. If the vicar will call the + people to the church, we can all kneel down there—and ask to be + heard. The vicar will do that I am sure—and the people will join him + with all their hearts.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brent was overwhelmed. + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear, Miss Vanderpoel!” she exclaimed. “THAT is + touching, indeed it is! And so right and so proper. I will drive back to + the village at once. The vicar's distress is as great as mine. You think + of everything. The service for the sick and dying. How right—how + right!” + </p> + <p> + With a sense of an increase of value in herself, the vicar, and the + vicarage, she hastened back to the pony carriage, but in the hall she + seized Betty's hand emotionally. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot tell you how much I am touched by this,” she + murmured. “I did not know you were—were a religious girl, my + dear.” + </p> + <p> + Betty answered with grave politeness. + </p> + <p> + “In times of great pain and terror,” she said, “I think + almost everybody is religious—a little. If that is the right word.” + </p> + <p> + There was no ringing of the ordinary call to service. In less than an + hour's time people began to come out of their cottages and wend their way + towards the church. No one had put on his or her Sunday clothes. The women + had hastily rolled down their sleeves, thrown off their aprons, and donned + everyday bonnets and shawls. The men were in their corduroys, as they had + come in from the fields, and the children wore their pinafores. As if by + magic, the news had flown from house to house, and each one who had heard + it had left his or her work without a moment's hesitation. They said but + little as they made their way to the church. Betty, walking with her + sister, was struck by the fact that there were more of them than formed + the usual Sunday morning congregation. They were doing no perfunctory + duty. The men's faces were heavily moved, most of the women wiped their + eyes at intervals, and the children looked awed. There was a suggestion of + hurried movement in the step of each—as if no time must be lost—as + if they must begin their appeal at once. Betty saw old Doby tottering + along stiffly, with his granddaughter and Mrs. Welden on either side of + him. Marlow, on his two sticks, was to be seen moving slowly, but + steadily. + </p> + <p> + Within the ancient stone walls, stiff old knees bent themselves with care, + and faces were covered devoutly by work-hardened hands. As she passed + through the churchyard Betty knew that eyes followed her affectionately, + and that the touching of foreheads and dropping of curtsies expressed a + special sympathy. In each mind she was connected with the man they came to + pray for—with the work he had done—with the danger he was in. + It was vaguely felt that if his life ended, a bereavement would have + fallen upon her. This the girl knew. + </p> + <p> + The vicar lifted his bowed head and began his service. Every man, woman + and child before him responded aloud and with a curious fervour—not + in decorous fear of seeming to thrust themselves before the throne, making + too much of their petitions, in the presence of the gentry. Here and there + sobs were to be heard. Lady Anstruthers followed the service timorously + and with tears. But Betty, kneeling at her side, by the round table in the + centre of the great square Stornham pew, which was like a room, bowed her + head upon her folded arms, and prayed her own intense, insistent prayer. + </p> + <p> + “God in Heaven!” was her inward cry. “God of all the + worlds! Do not let him die. 'If ye ask anything in my name that I will + do.' Christ said it. In the name of Jesus of Nazareth—do not let him + die! All the worlds are yours—all the power—listen to us—listen + to us. Lord, I believe—help thou my unbelief. If this terror robs me + of faith, and I pray madly—forgive, forgive me. Do not count it + against me as sin. You made him. He has suffered and been alone. It is not + time—it is not time yet for him to go. He has known no joy and no + bright thing. Do not let him go out of the warm world like a blind man. Do + not let him die. Perhaps this is not prayer, but raging. Forgive—forgive! + All power is gone from me. God of the worlds, and the great winds, and the + myriad stars—do not let him die!” + </p> + <p> + She knew her thoughts were wild, but their torrent bore her with them into + a strange, great silence. She did not hear the vicar's words, or the + responses of the people. She was not within the grey stone walls. She had + been drawn away as into the darkness and stillness of the night, and no + soul but her own seemed near. Through the stillness and the dark her + praying seemed to call and echo, clamouring again and again. It must reach + Something—it must be heard, because she cried so loud, though to the + human beings about her she seemed kneeling in silence. She went on and on, + repeating her words, changing them, ending and beginning again, pouring + forth a flood of appeal. She thought later that the flood must have been + at its highest tide when, singularly, it was stemmed. Without warning, a + wave of awe passed over her which strangely silenced her—and left + her bowed and kneeling, but crying out no more. The darkness had become + still, even as it had not been still before. Suddenly she cowered as she + knelt and held her breath. Something had drawn a little near. No thoughts—no + words—no cries were needed as the great stillness grew and spread, + and folded her being within it. She waited—only waited. She did not + know how long a time passed before she felt herself drawn back from the + silent and shadowy places—awakening, as it were, to the sounds in + the church. + </p> + <p> + “Our Father,” she began to say, as simply as a child. “Our + Father who art in Heaven—hallowed be thy name.” There was a + stirring among the congregation, and sounds of feet, as the people began + to move down the aisle in reverent slowness. She caught again the + occasional sound of a subdued sob. Rosalie gently touched her, and she + rose, following her out of the big pew and passing down the aisle after + the villagers. + </p> + <p> + Outside the entrance the people waited as if they wanted to see her again. + Foreheads were touched as before, and eyes followed her. She was to the + general mind the centre of the drama, and “the A'mighty” would + do well to hear her. She had been doing his work for him “same as + his lordship.” They did not expect her to smile at such a time, when + she returned their greetings, and she did not, but they said afterwards, + in their cottages, that “trouble or not she was a wonder for looks, + that she was—Miss Vanderpoel.” + </p> + <p> + Rosalie slipped a hand through her arm, and they walked home together, + very close to each other. Now and then there was a questioning in Rosy's + look. But neither of them spoke once. + </p> + <p> + On an oak table in the hall a letter from Mr. Penzance was lying. It was + brief, hurried, and anxious. The rumour that Mount Dunstan had been ailing + was true, and that they had felt they must conceal the matter from the + villagers was true also. For some baffling reason the fever had not + absolutely declared itself, but the young doctors were beset by grave + forebodings. In such cases the most serious symptoms might suddenly + develop. One never knew. Mr. Penzance was evidently torn by fears which he + desperately strove to suppress. But Betty could see the anguish on his + fine old face, and between the lines she read dread and warning not put + into words. She believed that, fearing the worst, he felt he must prepare + her mind. + </p> + <p> + “He has lived under a great strain for months,” he ended. + “It began long before the outbreak of the fever. I am not strong + under my sense of the cruelty of things—and I have never loved him + as I love him to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Betty took the letter to her room, and read it two or three times. Because + she had asked intelligent questions of the medical authority she had + consulted on her visit to London, she knew something of the fever and its + habits. Even her unclerical knowledge was such as it was not well to + reflect upon. She refolded the letter and laid it aside. + </p> + <p> + “I must not think. I must do something. It may prevent my listening,” + she said aloud to the silence of her room. + </p> + <p> + She cast her eyes about her as if in search. Upon her desk lay a notebook. + She took it up and opened it. It contained lists of plants, of flower + seeds, of bulbs, and shrubs. Each list was headed with an explanatory + note. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, this will do,” she said. “I will go and talk to + Kedgers.” + </p> + <p> + Kedgers and every man under him had been at the service, but they had + returned to their respective duties. Kedgers, giving directions to some + under gardeners who were clearing flower beds and preparing them for their + winter rest, turned to meet her as she approached. To Kedgers the sight of + her coming towards him on a garden path was a joyful thing. He had done + wonders, it is true, but if she had not stood by his side with inspiration + as well as confidence, he knew that things might have “come out + different.” + </p> + <p> + “You was born a gardener, miss—born one,” he had said + months ago. + </p> + <p> + It was the time when flower beds must be planned for the coming year. Her + notebook was filled with memoranda of the things they must talk about. + </p> + <p> + It was good, normal, healthy work to do. The scent of the rich, damp, + upturned mould was a good thing to inhale. They walked from one end to + another, stood before clumps of shrubs, and studied bits of wall. Here a + mass of blue might grow, here low things of white and pale yellow. A + quickly-climbing rose would hang sheets of bloom over this dead tree. This + sheltered wall would hold warmth for a Marechal Niel. + </p> + <p> + “You must take care of it all—even if I am not here next year,” + Miss Vanderpoel said. + </p> + <p> + Kedgers' absorbed face changed. + </p> + <p> + “Not here, miss,” he exclaimed. “You not here! Things + wouldn't grow, miss.” He checked himself, his weather-toughened skin + reddening because he was afraid he had perhaps taken a liberty. And then + moving his hat uneasily on his head, he took another. “But it's true + enough,” looking down on the gravel walk, “we—we + couldn't expect to keep you.” + </p> + <p> + She did not look as if she had noticed the liberty, but she did not look + quite like herself, Kedgers thought. If she had been another young lady, + and but for his established feeling that she was somehow immune from all + ills, he would have thought she had a headache, or was low in her mind. + </p> + <p> + She spent an hour or two with him, and together they planned for the + changing seasons of the year to come. How she could keep her mind on a + thing, and what a head she had for planning, and what an eye for colour! + But yes—there was something a bit wrong somehow. Now and then she + would stop and stand still for a moment, and suddenly it struck Kedgers + that she looked as if she were listening. + </p> + <p> + “Did you think you heard something, miss?” he asked her once + when she paused and wore this look. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered, “no.” And drew him on quickly—almost + as if she did not want him to hear what she had seemed listening for. + </p> + <p> + When she left him and went back to the house, all the loveliness of + spring, summer and autumn had been thought out and provided for. Kedgers + stood on the path and looked after her until she passed through the + terrace door. He chewed his lip uneasily. Then he remembered something and + felt a bit relieved. It was the service he remembered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it's that that's upset her—and it's natural, seeing how + she's helped him and Dunstan village. It's only natural.” He chewed + his lip again, and nodded his head in odd reflection. “Ay! Ay!” + he summed her up. “She's a great lady that—she's a great lady—same + as if she'd been born in a civilised land.” + </p> + <p> + During the rest of the day the look of question in Rosalie's eyes changed + in its nature. When her sister was near her she found herself glancing at + her with a new feeling. It was a growing feeling, which gradually became—anxiousness. + Betty presented to her the aspect of one withdrawn into some remote space. + She was not living this day as her days were usually lived. She did not + sit still or stroll about the gardens quietly. The consecutiveness of her + action seemed broken. She did one thing after another, as if she must fill + each moment. This was not her Betty. Lady Anstruthers watched and thought + until, in the end, a new pained fear began to creep slowly into her mind, + and make her feel as if she were slightly trembling though her hands did + not shake. She did not dare to allow herself to think the thing she knew + she was on the brink of thinking. She thrust it away from her, and tried + not to think at all. Her Betty—her splendid Betty, whom nothing + could hurt—who could not be touched by any awful thing—her + dear Betty! + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon she saw her write notes steadily for an hour, then she + went out into the stables and visited the horses, talked to the coachman + and to her own groom. She was very kind to a village boy who had been + recently taken on as an additional assistant in the stable, and who was + rather frightened and shy. She knew his mother, who had a large family, + and she had, indeed, given the boy his place that he might be trained + under the great Mr. Buckham, who was coachman and head of the stables. She + said encouraging things which quite cheered him, and she spoke privately + to Mr. Buckham about him. Then she walked in the park a little, but not + for long. When she came back Rosalie was waiting for her. + </p> + <p> + “I want to take a long drive,” she said. “I feel + restless. Will you come with me, Betty?” Yes, she would go with her, + so Buckham brought the landau with its pair of big horses, and they rolled + down the avenue, and into the smooth, white high road. He took them far—past + the great marshes, between miles of bared hedges, past farms and scattered + cottages. Sometimes he turned into lanes, where the hedges were closer to + each other, and where, here and there, they caught sight of new points of + view between trees. Betty was glad to feel Rosy's slim body near her side, + and she was conscious that it gradually seemed to draw closer and closer. + Then Rosy's hand slipped into hers and held it softly on her lap. + </p> + <p> + When they drove together in this way they were usually both of them rather + silent and quiet, but now Rosalie spoke of many things—of Ughtred, + of Nigel, of the Dunholms, of New York, and their father and mother. + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk because I'm nervous, I think,” she said half + apologetically. “I do not want to sit still and think too much—of + father's coming. You don't mind my talking, do you, Betty?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” Betty answered. “It is good for you and for me.” + And she met the pressure of Rosy's hand halfway. + </p> + <p> + But Rosy was talking, not because she did not want to sit still and think, + but because she did not want Betty to do so. And all the time she was + trying to thrust away the thought growing in her mind. + </p> + <p> + They spent the evening together in the library, and Betty read aloud. She + read a long time—until quite late. She wished to tire herself as + well as to force herself to stop listening. + </p> + <p> + When they said good-night to each other Rosy clung to her as desperately + as she had clung on the night after her arrival. She kissed her again and + again, and then hung her head and excused herself. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me for being—nervous. I'm ashamed of myself,” + she said. “Perhaps in time I shall get over being a coward.” + </p> + <p> + But she said nothing of the fact that she was not a coward for herself, + but through a slowly formulating and struggled—against fear, which + chilled her very heart, and which she could best cover by a pretence of + being a poltroon. + </p> + <p> + She could not sleep when she went to bed. The night seemed crowded with + strange, terrified thoughts. They were all of Betty, though sometimes she + thought of her father's coming, of her mother in New York, and of Betty's + steady working throughout the day. Sometimes she cried, twisting her hands + together, and sometimes she dropped into a feverish sleep, and dreamed + that she was watching Betty's face, yet was afraid to look at it. + </p> + <p> + She awakened suddenly from one of these dreams, and sat upright in bed to + find the dawn breaking. She rose and threw on a dressing-gown, and went to + her sister's room because she could not bear to stay away. + </p> + <p> + The door was not locked, and she pushed it open gently. One of the windows + had its blind drawn up, and looked like a patch of dull grey. Betty was + standing upright near it. She was in her night-gown, and a long black + plait of hair hung over one shoulder heavily. She looked all black and + white in strong contrast. The grey light set her forth as a tall ghost. + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers slid forward, feeling a tightness in her chest. + </p> + <p> + “The dawn wakened me too,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have been waiting to see it come,” answered Betty. “It + is going to be a dull, dreary day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVII + </h2> + <h3> + “I HAVE NO WORD OR LOOK TO REMEMBER” + </h3> + <p> + It was a dull and dreary day, as Betty had foreseen it would be. Heavy + rain clouds hung and threatened, and the atmosphere was damp and chill. It + was one of those days of the English autumn which speak only of the end of + things, bereaving one of the power to remember next year's spring and + summer, which, after all, must surely come. Sky is grey, trees are grey, + dead leaves lie damp beneath the feet, sunlight and birds seem forgotten + things. All that has been sad and to be regretted or feared hangs heavy in + the air and sways all thought. In the passing of these hours there is no + hope anywhere. Betty appeared at breakfast in short dress and close hat. + She wore thick little boots, as if for walking. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to make visits in the village,” she said. “I + want a basket of good things to take with me. Stourton's children need + feeding after their measles. They looked very thin when I saw them playing + in the road yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” Rosalie answered. “Mrs. Noakes shall + prepare the basket. Good chicken broth, and jelly, and nourishing things. + Jennings,” to the butler, “you know the kind of basket Miss + Vanderpoel wants. Speak to Mrs. Noakes, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lady,” Jennings knew the kind of basket and so did + Mrs. Noakes. Below stairs a strong sympathy with Miss Vanderpoel's + movements had developed. No one resented the preparation of baskets. + Somehow they were always managed, even if asked for at untimely hours. + </p> + <p> + Betty was sitting silent, looking out into the greyness of the + autumn-smitten park. + </p> + <p> + “Are—are you listening for anything, Betty?” Lady + Anstruthers asked rather falteringly. “You have a sort of listening + look in your eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Betty came back to the room, as it were. + </p> + <p> + “Have I,” she said. “Yes, I think I was listening for—something.” + </p> + <p> + And Rosalie did not ask her what she listened for. She was afraid she + knew. + </p> + <p> + It was not only the Stourtons Betty visited this morning. She passed from + one cottage to another—to see old women, and old men, as well as + young ones, who for one reason or another needed help and encouragement. + By one bedside she read aloud; by another she sat and told cheerful + stories; she listened to talk in little kitchens, and in one house + welcomed a newborn thing. As she walked steadily over grey road and down + grey lanes damp mist rose and hung about her. And she did not walk alone. + Fear walked with her, and anguish, a grey ghost by her side. Once she + found herself standing quite still on a side path, covering her face with + her hands. She filled every moment of the morning, and walked until she + was tired. Before she went home she called at the post office, and Mr. + Tewson greeted her with a solemn face. He did not wait to be questioned. + </p> + <p> + “There's been no news to-day, miss, so far,” he said. “And + that seems as if they might be so given up to hard work at a dreadful time + that there's been no chance for anything to get out. When people's hanging + over a man's bed at the end, it's as if everything stopped but that—that's + stopping for all time.” + </p> + <p> + After luncheon the rain began to fall softly, slowly, and with a + suggestion of endlessness. It was a sort of mist itself, and became a damp + shadow among the bare branches of trees which soon began to drip. + </p> + <p> + “You have been walking about all morning, and you are tired, dear,” + Lady Anstruthers said to her. “Won't you go to your room and rest, + Betty?” + </p> + <p> + Yes, she would go to her room, she said. Some new books had arrived from + London this morning, and she would look over them. She talked a little + about her visits before she went, and when, as she talked, Ughtred came + over to her and stood close to her side holding her hand and stroking it, + she smiled at him sweetly—the smile he adored. He stroked the hand + and softly patted it, watching her wistfully. Suddenly he lifted it to his + lips, and kissed it again and again with a sort of passion. + </p> + <p> + “I love you so much, Aunt Betty,” he cried. “We both + love you so much. Something makes me love you to-day more than ever I did + before. It almost makes me cry. I love you so.” + </p> + <p> + She stooped swiftly and drew him into her arms and kissed him close and + hard. He held his head back a little and looked into the blue under her + lashes. + </p> + <p> + “I love your eyes,” he said. “Anyone would love your + eyes, Aunt Betty. But what is the matter with them? You are not crying at + all, but—oh! what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I am not crying at all,” she said, and smiled—almost + laughed. + </p> + <p> + But after she had kissed him again she took her books and went upstairs. + </p> + <p> + She did not lie down, and she did not read when she was alone in her room. + She drew a long chair before the window and watched the slow falling of + the rain. There is nothing like it—that slow weeping of the rain on + an English autumn day. Soft and light though it was, the park began to + look sodden. The bare trees held out their branches like imploring arms, + the brown garden beds were neat and bare. The same rain was drip-dripping + at Mount Dunstan—upon the desolate great house—upon the + village—upon the mounds and ancient stone tombs in the churchyard, + sinking into the earth—sinking deep, sucked in by the clay beneath—the + cold damp clay. She shook herself shudderingly. Why should the thought + come to her—the cold damp clay? She would not listen to it, she + would think of New York, of its roaring streets and crash of sound, of the + rush of fierce life there—of her father and mother. She tried to + force herself to call up pictures of Broadway, swarming with crowds of + black things, which, seen from the windows of its monstrous buildings, + seemed like swarms of ants, burst out of ant-hills, out of a thousand + ant-hills. She tried to remember shop windows, the things in them, the + throngs going by, and the throngs passing in and out of great, swinging + glass doors. She dragged up before her a vision of Rosalie, driving with + her mother and herself, looking about her at the new buildings and changed + streets, flushed and made radiant by the accelerated pace and excitement + of her beloved New York. But, oh, the slow, penetrating rainfall, and—the + cold damp clay! + </p> + <p> + She rose, making an involuntary sound which was half a moan. The long + mirror set between two windows showed her momentarily an awful young + figure, throwing up its arms. Was that Betty Vanderpoel—that? + </p> + <p> + “What does one do,” she said, “when the world comes to + an end? What does one do?” + </p> + <p> + All her days she had done things—there had always been something to + do. Now there was nothing. She went suddenly to her bell and rang for her + maid. The woman answered the summons at once. + </p> + <p> + “Send word to the stable that I want Childe Harold. I do not want + Mason. I shall ride alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss,” Ambleston answered, without any exterior sign of + emotion. She was too well-trained a person to express any shade of her + internal amazement. After she had transmitted the order to the proper + manager she returned and changed her mistress's costume. + </p> + <p> + She had contemplated her task, and was standing behind Miss Vanderpoel's + chair, putting the last touch to her veil, when she became conscious of a + slight stiffening of the neck which held so well the handsome head, then + the head slowly turned towards the window giving upon the front park. Miss + Vanderpoel was listening to something, listening so intently that + Ambleston felt that, for a few moments, she did not seem to breathe. The + maid's hands fell from the veil, and she began to listen also. She had + been at the service the day before. Miss Vanderpoel rose from her chair + slowly—very slowly, and took a step forward. Then she stood still + and listened again. + </p> + <p> + “Open that window, if you please,” she commanded—“as + if a stone image was speaking”—Ambleston said later. The + window was thrown open, and for a few seconds they both stood still again. + When Miss Vanderpoel spoke, it was as if she had forgotten where she was, + or as if she were in a dream. + </p> + <p> + “It is the ringers,” she said. “They are tolling the + passing bell.” + </p> + <p> + The serving woman was soft of heart, and had her feminine emotions. There + had been much talk of this thing in the servant's hall. She turned upon + Betty, and forgot all rules and training. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, miss!” she cried. “He's gone—he's gone! That + good man—out of this hard world. Oh, miss, excuse me—do!” + And as she burst into wild tears, she ran out of the room. + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + Rosalie had been sitting in the morning room. She also had striven to + occupy herself with work. She had written to her mother, she had read, she + had embroidered, and then read again. What was Betty doing—what was + she thinking now? She laid her book down in her lap, and covering her face + with her hands, breathed a desperate little prayer. That life should be + pain and emptiness to herself, seemed somehow natural since she had + married Nigel—but pain and emptiness for Betty—No! No! No! Not + for Betty! Piteous sorrow poured upon her like a flood. She did not know + how the time passed. She sat, huddled together in her chair, with hidden + face. She could not bear to look at the rain and ghost mist out of doors. + Oh, if her mother were only here, and she might speak to her! And as her + loving tears broke forth afresh, she heard the door open. + </p> + <p> + “If you please, my lady—I beg your pardon, my lady,” as + she started and uncovered her face. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Jennings?” + </p> + <p> + The figure at the door was that of the serious, elderly butler, and he + wore a respectfully grave air. + </p> + <p> + “As your ladyship is sitting in this room, we thought it likely you + would not hear, the windows being closed, and we felt sure, my lady, that + you would wish to know——” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers' hands shook as they clung to the arms of her chair. + </p> + <p> + “To know——” she faltered. “Hear what?” + </p> + <p> + “The passing bell is tolling, my lady. It has just begun. It is for + Lord Mount Dunstan. There's not a dry eye downstairs, your ladyship, not + one.” + </p> + <p> + He opened the windows, and she stood up. Jennings quietly left the room. + The slow, heavy knell struck ponderously on the damp air, and she stood + and shivered. + </p> + <p> + A moment or two later she turned, because it seemed as if she must. + </p> + <p> + Betty, in her riding habit, was standing motionless against the door, her + wonderful eyes still as death, gazing at her, gazing in an awful, simple + silence. + </p> + <p> + Oh, what was the use of being afraid to speak at such a time as this? In + one moment Rosy was kneeling at her feet, clinging about her knees, + kissing her hands, the very cloth of her habit, and sobbing aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my darling—my love—my own Betty! I don't know—and + I won't ask—but speak to me—speak just a word—my dearest + dear!” + </p> + <p> + Betty raised her up and drew her within the room, closing the door behind + them. + </p> + <p> + “Kind little Rosy,” she said. “I came to speak—because + we two love each other. You need not ask, I will tell you. That bell is + tolling for the man who taught me—to KNOW. He never spoke to me of + love. I have not one word or look to remember. And now—— Oh, + listen—listen! I have been listening since the morning of yesterday.” + It was an awful thing—her white face, with all the flame of life + swept out of it. + </p> + <p> + “Don't listen—darling—darling!” Rosy cried out in + anguish. “Shut your ears—shut your ears!” And she tried + to throw her arms around the high black head, and stifle all sound with + her embrace. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to shut them,” was the answer. “All the + unkindness and misery are over for him, I ought to thank God—but I + don't. I shall hear—O Rosy, listen!—I shall hear that to the + end of my days.” + </p> + <p> + Rosy held her tight, and rocked and sobbed. + </p> + <p> + “My Betty,” she kept saying. “My Betty,” and she + could say no more. What more was there to say? At last Betty withdrew + herself from her arms, and then Rosalie noticed for the first time that + she wore the habit. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest,” she whispered, “what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I was going to ride, and I am going to do it still. I must do + something. I shall ride a long, long way—and ride hard. You won't + try to keep me, Rosy. You will understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” biting her lip, and looking at her with large, awed + eyes, as she patted her arm with a hand that trembled. “I would not + hold you back, Betty, from anything in the world you chose to do.” + </p> + <p> + And with another long, clinging clasp of her, she let her go. + </p> + <p> + Mason was standing by Childe Harold when she went down the broad steps. He + also wore a look of repressed emotion, and stood with bared head bent, his + eyes fixed on the gravel of the drive, listening to the heavy strokes of + the bell in the church tower, rather as if he were taking part in some + solemn ceremony. + </p> + <p> + He mounted her silently, and after he had given her the bridle, looked up, + and spoke in a somewhat husky voice: + </p> + <p> + “The order was that you did not want me, miss? Was that correct?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wish to ride alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.” + </p> + <p> + Childe Harold was in good spirits. He held up his head, and blew the + breath through his delicate, dilated, red nostrils as he set out with his + favourite sidling, dancing steps. Mason watched him down the avenue, saw + the lodge keeper come out to open the gate, and curtsy as her ladyship's + sister passed through it. After that he went slowly back to the stables, + and sat in the harness-room a long time, staring at the floor, as the bell + struck ponderously on his ear. + </p> + <p> + The woman who had opened the gate for her Betty saw had red eyes. She knew + why. + </p> + <p> + “A year ago they all thought of him as an outcast. They would have + believed any evil they had heard connected with his name. Now, in every + cottage, there is weeping—weeping. And he lies deaf and dumb,” + was her thought. + </p> + <p> + She did not wish to pass through the village, and turned down a side road, + which would lead her to where she could cross the marshes, and come upon + lonely places. The more lonely, the better. Every few moments she caught + her breath with a hard short gasp. The slow rain fell upon her, big round, + crystal drops hung on the hedgerows, and dripped upon the grass banks + below them; the trees, wreathed with mist, were like waiting ghosts as she + passed them by; Childe Harold's hoof upon the road, made a hollow, lonely + sound. + </p> + <p> + A thought began to fill her brain, and make insistent pressure upon it. + She tried no more to thrust thought away. Those who lay deaf and dumb, + those for whom people wept—where were they when the weeping seemed + to sound through all the world? How far had they gone? Was it far? Could + they hear and could they see? If one plead with them aloud, could they + draw near to listen? Did they begin a long, long journey as soon as they + had slipped away? The “wonder of the world,” she had said, + watching life swelling and bursting the seeds in Kedgers' hothouses! But + this was a greater wonder still, because of its awesomeness. This man had + been, and who dare say he was not—even now? The strength of his + great body, the look in his red-brown eyes, the sound of his deep voice, + the struggle, the meaning of him, where were they? She heard herself + followed by the hollow echo of Childe Harold's hoofs, as she rode past + copse and hedge, and wet spreading fields. She was this hour as he had + been a month ago. If, with some strange suddenness, this which was Betty + Vanderpoel, slipped from its body——She put her hand up to her + forehead. It was unthinkable that there would be no more. Where was he now—where + was he now? + </p> + <p> + This was the thought that filled her brain cells to the exclusion of all + others. Over the road, down through by-lanes, out on the marshes. Where + was he—where was he—WHERE? Childe Harold's hoofs began to beat + it out as a refrain. She heard nothing else. She did not know where she + was going and did not ask herself. She went down any road or lane which + looked empty of life, she took strange turnings, without caring; she did + not know how far she was afield. + </p> + <p> + Where was he now—this hour—this moment—where was he now? + Did he know the rain, the greyness, the desolation of the world? + </p> + <p> + Once she stopped her horse on the loneliness of the marsh land, and looked + up at the low clouds about her, at the creeping mist, the dank grass. It + seemed a place in which a newly-released soul might wander because it did + not yet know its way. + </p> + <p> + “If you should be near, and come to me, you will understand,” + her clear voice said gravely between the caught breaths, “what I + gave you was nothing to you—but you took it with you. Perhaps you + know without my telling you. I want you to know. When a man is dead, + everything melts away. I loved you. I wish you had loved me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE MOMENT + </h3> + <p> + In the unnatural unbearableness of her anguish, she lost sight of objects + as she passed them, she lost all memory of what she did. She did not know + how long she had been out, or how far she had ridden. When the thought of + time or distance vaguely flitted across her mind, it seemed that she had + been riding for hours, and might have crossed one county and entered + another. She had long left familiar places behind. Riding through and + inclosed by the mist, she, herself, might have been a wandering ghost, + lost in unknown places. Where was he now—where was he now? + </p> + <p> + Afterwards she could not tell how or when it was that she found herself + becoming conscious of the evidences that her horse had been ridden too + long and hard, and that he was worn out with fatigue. She did not know + that she had ridden round and round over the marshes, and had passed + several times through the same lanes. Childe Harold, the sure of foot, + actually stumbled, out of sheer weariness of limb. Perhaps it was this + which brought her back to earth, and led her to look around her with eyes + which saw material objects with comprehension. She had reached the lonely + places, indeed and the evening was drawing on. She was at the edge of the + marsh, and the land about her was strange to her and desolate. At the side + of a steep lane, overgrown with grass, and seeming a mere cart-path, stood + a deserted-looking, black and white, timbered cottage, which was half a + ruin. Close to it was a dripping spinney, its trees forming a darkling + background to the tumble-down house, whose thatch was rotting into holes, + and its walls sagging forward perilously. The bit of garden about it was + neglected and untidy, here and there windows were broken, and stuffed with + pieces of ragged garments. Altogether a sinister and repellent place + enough. + </p> + <p> + She looked at it with heavy eyes. (Where was he now—where was he + now?—This repeating itself in the far chambers of her brain.) Her + sight seemed dimmed, not only by the mist, but by a sinking faintness + which possessed her. She did not remember how little food she had eaten + during more than twenty-four hours. Her habit was heavy with moisture, and + clung to her body; she was conscious of a hot tremor passing over her, and + saw that her hands shook as they held the bridle on which they had lost + their grip. She had never fainted in her life, and she was not going to + faint now—women did not faint in these days—but she must reach + the cottage and dismount, to rest under shelter for a short time. No smoke + was rising from the chimney, but surely someone was living in the place, + and could tell her where she was, and give her at least water for herself + and her horse. Poor beast! how wickedly she must have been riding him, in + her utter absorption in her thoughts. He was wet, not alone with rain, but + with sweat. He snorted out hot, smoking breaths. + </p> + <p> + She spoke to him, and he moved forward at her command. He was trembling + too. Not more than two hundred yards, and she turned him into the lane. + But it was wet and slippery, and strewn with stones. His trembling and her + uncertain hold on the bridle combined to produce disaster. He set his foot + upon a stone which slid beneath it, he stumbled, and she could not help + him to recover, so he fell, and only by Heaven's mercy not upon her, with + his crushing, big-boned weight, and she was able to drag herself free of + him before he began to kick, in his humiliated efforts to rise. But he + could not rise, because he was hurt—and when she, herself, got up, + she staggered, and caught at the broken gate, because in her wrenching + leap for safety she had twisted her ankle, and for a moment was in cruel + pain. + </p> + <p> + When she recovered from her shock sufficiently to be able to look at the + cottage, she saw that it was more of a ruin than it had seemed, even at a + short distance. Its door hung open on broken hinges, no smoke rose from + the chimney, because there was no one within its walls to light a fire. It + was quite empty. Everything about the place lay in dead and utter silence. + In a normal mood she would have liked the mystery of the situation, and + would have set about planning her way out of her difficulty. But now her + mind made no effort, because normal interest in things had fallen away + from her. She might be twenty miles from Stornham, but the possible fact + did not, at the moment, seem to concern her. (Where is he now—where + is he now?) Childe Harold was trying to rise, despite his hurt, and his + evident determination touched her. He was too proud to lie in the mire. + She limped to him, and tried to steady him by his bridle. He was not badly + injured, though plainly in pain. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy, it was my fault,” she said to him as he at last + struggled to his feet. “I did not know I was doing it. Poor boy!” + </p> + <p> + He turned a velvet dark eye upon her, and nosed her forgivingly with a + warm velvet muzzle, but it was plain that, for the time, he was done for. + They both moved haltingly to the broken gate, and Betty fastened him to a + thorn tree near it, where he stood on three feet, his fine head drooping. + </p> + <p> + She pushed the gate open, and went into the house through the door which + hung on its hinges. Once inside, she stood still and looked about her. If + there was silence and desolateness outside, there was within the deserted + place a stillness like the unresponse of death. It had been long since + anyone had lived in the cottage, but tramps or gipsies had at times passed + through it. Dead, blackened embers lay on the hearth, a bundle of dried + grass which had been slept on was piled in the corner, an empty nail keg + and a wooden box had been drawn before the big chimney place for some + wanderer to sit on when the black embers had been hot and red. + </p> + <p> + Betty gave one glance around her and sat down upon the box standing on the + bare hearth, her head sinking forward, her hands falling clasped between + her knees, her eyes on the brick floor. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he now?” broke from her in a loud whisper, whose + sound was mechanical and hollow. “Where is he now?” + </p> + <p> + And she sat there without moving, while the grey mist from the marshes + crept close about the door and through it and stole about her feet. + </p> + <p> + So she sat long—long—in a heavy, far-off dream. + </p> + <p> + Along the road a man was riding with a lowering, fretted face. He had come + across country on horseback, because to travel by train meant wearisome + stops and changes and endlessly slow journeying, annoying beyond endurance + to those who have not patience to spare. His ride would have been pleasant + enough but for the slow mist-like rain. Also he had taken a wrong turning, + because he did not know the roads he travelled. The last signpost he had + passed, however, had given him his cue again, and he began to feel + something of security. Confound the rain! The best road was slippery with + it, and the haze of it made a man's mind feel befogged and lowered his + spirits horribly—discouraged him—would worry him into an ill + humour even if he had reason to be in a good one. As for him, he had no + reason for cheerfulness—he never had for the matter of that, and + just now——! What was the matter with his horse? He was lifting + his head and sniffing the damp air restlessly, as if he scented or saw + something. Beasts often seemed to have a sort of second sight—horses + particularly. + </p> + <p> + What ailed him that he should prick up his ears and snort after his + sniffing the mist! Did he hear anything? Yes, he did, it seemed. He gave + forth suddenly a loud shrill whinny, turning his head towards a rough lane + they were approaching, and immediately from the vicinity of a + deserted-looking cottage behind a hedge came a sharp but mournful-sounding + neigh in answer. + </p> + <p> + “What horse is that?” said Nigel Anstruthers, drawing in at + the entrance to the lane and looking down it. “There is a fine brute + with a side-saddle on,” he added sharply. “He is waiting for + someone. What is a woman doing there at this time? Is it a rendezvous? A + good place——” + </p> + <p> + He broke off short and rode forward. “I'm hanged if it is not Childe + Harold,” he broke out, and he had no sooner assured himself of the + fact than he threw himself from his saddle, tethered his horse and strode + up the path to the broken-hinged door. + </p> + <p> + He stood on the threshold and stared. What a hole it was—what a + hole! And there SHE sat—alone—eighteen or twenty miles from + home—on a turned-up box near the black embers, her hands clasped + loosely between her knees, her face rather awful, her eyes staring at the + floor, as if she did not see it. + </p> + <p> + “Where is he now?” he heard her whisper to herself with soft + weirdness. “Where is he now?” + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel stepped into the place and stood before her. He had smiled with + a wry unpleasantness when he had heard her evidently unconscious words. + </p> + <p> + “My good girl,” he said, “I am sure I do not know where + he is—but it is very evident that he ought to be here, since you + have amiably put yourself to such trouble. It is fortunate for you perhaps + that I am here before him. What does this mean?” the question + breaking from him with savage authority. + </p> + <p> + He had dragged her back to earth. She sat upright and recognised him with + a hideous sense of shock, but he did not give her time to speak. His + instinct of male fury leaped within him. + </p> + <p> + “YOU!” he cried out. “It takes a woman like you to come + and hide herself in a place of this sort, like a trolloping gipsy wench! + It takes a New York millionairess or a Roman empress or one of Charles the + Second's duchesses to plunge as deep as this. You, with your golden + pedestal—you, with your ostentatious airs and graces—you, with + your condescending to give a man a chance to repent his sins and turn over + a new leaf! Damn it,” rising to a sort of frenzy, “what are + you doing waiting in a hole like this—in this weather—at this + hour—you—you!” + </p> + <p> + The fool's flame leaped high enough to make him start forward, as if to + seize her by the shoulder and shake her. + </p> + <p> + But she rose and stepped back to lean against the side of the chimney—to + brace herself against it, so that she could stand in her lame foot's + despite. Every drop of blood had been swept from her face, and her eyes + looked immense. His coming was a good thing for her, though she did not + know it. It brought her back from unearthly places. All her child hatred + woke and blazed in her. Never had she hated a thing so, and it set her + slow, cold blood running like something molten. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue!” she said in a clear, awful young voice of + warning. “And take care not to touch me. If you do—I have my + whip here—I shall lash you across your mouth!” + </p> + <p> + He broke into ribald laughter. A certain sudden thought which had cut into + him like a knife thrust into flesh drove him on. + </p> + <p> + “Do!” he cried. “I should like to carry your mark back + to Stornham—and tell people why it was given. I know who you are + here for. Only such fellows ask such things of women. But he was + determined to be safe, if you hid in a ditch. You are here for Mount + Dunstan—and he has failed you!” + </p> + <p> + But she only stood and stared at him, holding her whip behind her, knowing + that at any moment he might snatch it from her hand. And she knew how poor + a weapon it was. To strike out with it would only infuriate him and make + him a wild beast. And it was becoming an agony to stand upon her foot. And + even if it had not been so—if she had been strong enough to make a + leap and dash past him, her horse stood outside disabled. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers' eyes ran over her from head to foot, down the side of + her mud-stained habit, while a curious light dawned in them. + </p> + <p> + “You have had a fall from your horse,” he exclaimed. “You + are lame!” Then quickly, “That was why Childe Harold was + trembling and standing on three feet! By Jove!” + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down on the nail keg and began to laugh. He laughed for a full + minute, but she saw he did not take his eyes from her. + </p> + <p> + “You are in as unpleasant a situation as a young woman can well be,” + he said, when he stopped. “You came to a dirty hole to be alone with + a man who felt it safest not to keep his appointment. Your horse stumbled + and disabled himself and you. You are twenty miles from home in a deserted + cottage in a lane no one passes down even in good weather. You are + frightened to death and you have given me even a better story to play with + than your sister gave me. By Jove!” + </p> + <p> + His face was an unholy thing to look upon. The situation and her + powerlessness were exciting him. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered, keeping her eyes on his, as she might have + kept them on some wild animal's, “I am not frightened to death.” + </p> + <p> + His ugly dark flush rose. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you are not,” he said, “don't tell me so. That + kind of defiance is not your best line just now. You have been disdaining + me from magnificent New York heights for some time. Do you think that I am + not enjoying this?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot imagine anyone else who would enjoy it so much.” And + she knew the answer was daring, but would have made it if he had held a + knife's point at her throat. + </p> + <p> + He got up, and walking to the door drew it back on its crazy hinges and + managed to shut it close. There was a big wooden bolt inside and he forced + it into its socket. + </p> + <p> + “Presently I shall go and put the horses into the cowshed,” he + said. “If I leave them standing outside they will attract attention. + I do not intend to be disturbed by any gipsy tramp who wants shelter. I + have never had you quite to myself before.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down again and nursed his knee gracefully. + </p> + <p> + “And I have never seen you look as attractive,” biting his + under lip in cynical enjoyment. “To-day's adventure has roused your + emotions and actually beautified you—which was not necessary. I + daresay you have been furious and have cried. Your eyes do not look like + mere eyes, but like splendid blue pools of tears. Perhaps <i>I</i> shall + make you cry sometime, my dear Betty.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tempt me. Women always cry when men annoy them. They rage, + but they cry as well.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not.” + </p> + <p> + “It's true that most women would have begun to cry before this. That + is what stimulates me. You will swagger to the end. You put the devil into + me. Half an hour ago I was jogging along the road, languid and bored to + extinction. And now——” He laughed outright in actual + exultation. “By Jove!” he cried out. “Things like this + don't happen to a man in these dull days! There's no such luck going + about. We've gone back five hundred years, and we've taken New York with + us.” His laugh shut off in the middle, and he got up to thrust his + heavy, congested face close to hers. “Here you are, as safe as if + you were in a feudal castle, and here is your ancient enemy given his + chance—given his chance. Do you think, by the Lord, he is going to + give it up? No. To quote your own words, 'you may place entire confidence + in that.'” + </p> + <p> + Exaggerated as it all was, somehow the melodrama dropped away from it and + left bare, simple, hideous fact for her to confront. The evil in him had + risen rampant and made him lose his head. He might see his senseless folly + to-morrow and know he must pay for it, but he would not see it to-day. The + place was not a feudal castle, but what he said was insurmountable truth. + A ruined cottage on the edge of miles of marsh land, a seldom-trodden + road, and night upon them! A wind was rising on the marshes now, and + making low, steady moan. Horrible things had happened to women before, one + heard of them with shudders when they were recorded in the newspapers. + Only two days ago she had remembered that sometimes there seemed + blunderings in the great Scheme of things. Was all this real, or was she + dreaming that she stood here at bay, her back against the chimney-wall, + and this degenerate exulting over her, while Rosy was waiting for her at + Stornham—and at this very hour her father was planning his journey + across the Atlantic? + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not behave yourself?” demanded Nigel Anstruthers, + shaking her by the shoulder. “Why did you not realise that I should + get even with you one day, as sure as you were woman and I was man?” + </p> + <p> + She did not shrink back, though the pupils of her eyes dilated. Was it the + wildest thing in the world which happened to her—or was it not? + Without warning—the sudden rush of a thought, immense and strange, + swept over her body and soul and possessed her—so possessed her that + it changed her pallor to white flame. It was actually Anstruthers who + shrank back a shade because, for the moment, she looked so near unearthly. + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid of you,” she said, in a clear, unshaken + voice. “I am not afraid. Something is near me which will stand + between us—something which DIED to-day.” + </p> + <p> + He almost gasped before the strangeness of it, but caught back his breath + and recovered himself. + </p> + <p> + “Died to-day! That's recent enough,” he jeered. “Let us + hear about it. Who was it?” + </p> + <p> + “It was Mount Dunstan,” she flung at him. “The + church-bells were tolling for him when I rode away. I could not stay to + hear them. It killed me—I loved him. You were right when you said + it. I loved him, though he never knew. I shall always love him—though + he never knew. He knows now. Those who died cannot go away when THAT is + holding them. They must stay. Because I loved him, he may be in this + place. I call on him——” raising her clear voice. “I + call on him to stand between us.” + </p> + <p> + He backed away from her, staring an evil, enraptured stare. + </p> + <p> + “What! There is that much temperament in you?” he said. + “That was what I half-suspected when I saw you first. But you have + hidden it well. Now it bursts forth in spite of you. Good Lord! What luck—what + luck!” + </p> + <p> + He moved to the door and opened it. + </p> + <p> + “I am a very modern man, and I enjoy this to the utmost,” he + said. “What I like best is the melodrama of it—in connection + with Fifth Avenue. I am perfectly aware that you will not discuss this + incident in the future. You are a clever enough young woman to know that + it will be more to your interest than to mine that it shall be kept + exceedingly quiet.” + </p> + <p> + The white fire had not died out of her and she stood straight. + </p> + <p> + “What I have called on will be near me, and will stand between us,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + Old though it was, the door was massive and heavy to lift. To open it cost + him some muscular effort. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to the horses now,” he explained before he dragged + it back into its frame and shut her in. “It is safe enough to leave + you here. You will stay where you are.” + </p> + <p> + He felt himself secure in leaving her because he believed she could not + move, and because his arrogance made it impossible for him to count on + strength and endurance greater than his own. Of endurance he knew nothing + and in his keen and cynical exultance his devil made a fool of him. + </p> + <p> + As she heard him walk down the path to the gate, Betty stood amazed at his + lack of comprehension of her. + </p> + <p> + “He thinks I will stay here. He absolutely thinks I will wait until + he comes back,” she whispered to the emptiness of the bare room. + </p> + <p> + Before he had arrived she had loosened her boot, and now she stooped and + touched her foot. + </p> + <p> + “If I were safe at home I should think I could not walk, but I can + walk now—I can—I can—because I will bear the pain.” + </p> + <p> + In such cottages there is always a door opening outside from the little + bricked kitchen, where the copper stands. She would reach that, and, + passing through, would close it behind her. After that SOMETHING would + tell her what to do—something would lead her. + </p> + <p> + She put her lame foot upon the floor, and rested some of her weight upon + it—not all. A jagged pain shot up from it through her whole side it + seemed, and, for an instant, she swayed and ground her teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That is because it is the first step,” she said. “But + if I am to be killed, I will die in the open—I will die in the open.” + </p> + <p> + The second and third steps brought cold sweat out upon her, but she told + herself that the fourth was not quite so unbearable, and she stiffened her + whole body, and muttered some words while she took a fifth and sixth which + carried her into the tiny back kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she said. “Father, think of me now—think + of me! Rosy, love me—love me and pray that I may come home. You—you + who have died, stand very near!” + </p> + <p> + If her father ever held her safe in his arms again—if she ever awoke + from this nightmare, it would be a thing never to let one's mind hark back + to again—to shut out of memory with iron doors. + </p> + <p> + The pain had shot up and down, and her forehead was wet by the time she + had reached the small back door. Was it locked or bolted—was it? She + put her hand gently upon the latch and lifted it without making any sound. + Thank God Almighty, it was neither bolted nor locked, the latch lifted, + the door opened, and she slid through it into the shadow of the grey which + was already almost the darkness of night. Thank God for that, too. + </p> + <p> + She flattened herself against the outside wall and listened. He was having + difficulty in managing Childe Harold, who snorted and pulled back, + offended and made rebellious by his savagely impatient hand. Good Childe + Harold, good boy! She could see the massed outline of the trees of the + spinney. If she could bear this long enough to get there—even if she + crawled part of the way. Then it darted through her mind that he would + guess that she would be sure to make for its cover, and that he would go + there first to search. + </p> + <p> + “Father, think for me—you were so quick to think!” her + brain cried out for her, as if she was speaking to one who could + physically hear. + </p> + <p> + She almost feared she had spoken aloud, and the thought which flashed upon + her like lightning seemed to be an answer given. He would be convinced + that she would at once try to get away from the house. If she kept near it—somewhere—somewhere + quite close, and let him search the spinney, she might get away to its + cover after he gave up the search and came back. The jagged pain had + settled in a sort of impossible anguish, and once or twice she felt sick. + But she would die in the open—and she knew Rosalie was frightened by + her absence, and was praying for her. Prayers counted and, yet, they had + all prayed yesterday. + </p> + <p> + “If I were not very strong, I should faint,” she thought. + “But I have been strong all my life. That great French doctor—I + have forgotten his name—said that I had the physique to endure + anything.” + </p> + <p> + She said these things that she might gain steadiness and convince herself + that she was not merely living through a nightmare. Twice she moved her + foot suddenly because she found herself in a momentary respite from pain, + beginning to believe that the thing was a nightmare—that nothing + mattered—because she would wake up presently—so she need not + try to hide. + </p> + <p> + “But in a nightmare one has no pain. It is real and I must go + somewhere,” she said, after the foot was moved. Where could she go? + She had not looked at the place as she rode up. She had only + half-consciously seen the spinney. Nigel was swearing at the horses. + Having got Childe Harold into the shed, there seemed to be nothing to + fasten his bridle to. And he had yet to bring his own horse in and secure + him. She must get away somewhere before the delay was over. + </p> + <p> + How dark it was growing! Thank God for that again! What was the rather + high, dark object she could trace in the dimness near the hedge? It was + sharply pointed, is if it were a narrow tent. Her heart began to beat like + a drum as she recalled something. It was the shape of the sort of wigwam + structure made of hop poles, after they were taken from the fields. If + there was space between it and the hedge—even a narrow space—and + she could crouch there? Nigel was furious because Childe Harold was + backing, plunging, and snorting dangerously. She halted forward, shutting + her teeth in her terrible pain. She could scarcely see, and did not + recognise that near the wigwam was a pile of hop poles laid on top of each + other horizontally. It was not quite as high as the hedge whose dark + background prevented its being seen. Only a few steps more. No, she was + awake—in a nightmare one felt only terror, not pain. + </p> + <p> + “YOU, WHO DIED TO-DAY,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + She saw the horizontal poles too late. One of them had rolled from its + place and lay on the ground, and she trod on it, was thrown forward + against the heap, and, in her blind effort to recover herself, slipped and + fell into a narrow, grassed hollow behind it, clutching at the hedge. The + great French doctor had not been quite right. For the first time in her + life she felt herself sinking into bottomless darkness—which was + what happened to people when they fainted. + </p> + <p> + When she opened her eyes she could see nothing, because on one side of her + rose the low mass of the hop poles, and on the other was the + long-untrimmed hedge, which had thrown out a thick, sheltering growth and + curved above her like a penthouse. Was she awakening, after all? No, + because the pain was awakening with her, and she could hear, what seemed + at first to be quite loud sounds. She could not have been unconscious + long, for she almost immediately recognised that they were the echo of a + man's hurried footsteps upon the bare wooden stairway, leading to the + bedrooms in the empty house. Having secured the horses, Nigel had returned + to the cottage, and, finding her gone had rushed to the upper floor in + search of her. He was calling her name angrily, his voice resounding in + the emptiness of the rooms. + </p> + <p> + “Betty; don't play the fool with me!” + </p> + <p> + She cautiously drew herself further under cover, making sure that no end + of her habit remained in sight. The overgrowth of the hedge was her + salvation. If she had seen the spot by daylight, she would not have + thought it a possible place of concealment. + </p> + <p> + Once she had read an account of a woman's frantic flight from a murderer + who was hunting her to her death, while she slipped from one poor hiding + place to another, sometimes crouching behind walls or bushes, sometimes + lying flat in long grass, once wading waist-deep through a stream, and at + last finding a miserable little fastness, where she hid shivering for + hours, until her enemy gave up his search. One never felt the reality of + such histories, but there was actually a sort of parallel in this. Mad and + crude things were let loose, and the world of ordinary life seemed + thousands of miles away. + </p> + <p> + She held her breath, for he was leaving the house by the front door. She + heard his footsteps on the bricked path, and then in the lane. He went to + the road, and the sound of his feet died away for a few moments. Then she + heard them returning—he was back in the lane—on the brick + path, and stood listening or, perhaps, reflecting. He muttered something + exclamatory, and she heard a match struck, and shortly afterwards he moved + across the garden patch towards the little spinney. He had thought of it, + as she had believed he would. He would not think of this place, and in the + end he might get tired or awakened to a sense of his lurid folly, and + realise that it would be safer for him to go back to Stornham with some + clever lie, trusting to his belief that there existed no girl but would + shrink from telling such a story in connection with a man who would + brazenly deny it with contemptuous dramatic detail. If he would but decide + on this, she would be safe—and it would be so like him that she + dared to hope. But, if he did not, she would lie close, even if she must + wait until morning, when some labourer's cart would surely pass, and she + would hear it jolting, and drag herself out, and call aloud in such a way + that no man could be deaf. There was more room under her hedge than she + had thought, and she found that she could sit up, by clasping her knees + and bending her head, while she listened to every sound, even to the + rustle of the grass in the wind sweeping across the marsh. + </p> + <p> + She moved very gradually and slowly, and had just settled into utter + motionlessness when she realised that he was coming back through the + garden—the straggling currant and gooseberry bushes were being + trampled through. + </p> + <p> + “Betty, go home,” Rosalie had pleaded. “Go home—go + home.” And she had refused, because she could not desert her. + </p> + <p> + She held her breath and pressed her hand against her side, because her + heart beat, as it seemed to her, with an actual sound. He moved with + unsteady steps from one point to another, more than once he stumbled, and + his angry oath reached her; at last he was so near her hiding place that + his short hard breathing was a distinct sound. A moment later he spoke, + raising his voice, which fact brought to her a rush of relief, through its + signifying that he had not even guessed her nearness. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Betty,” he said, “you have the pluck of the + devil, but circumstances are too much for you. You are not on the road, + and I have been through the spinney. Mere logic convinces me that you + cannot be far away. You may as well give the thing up. It will be better + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “You who died to-day—do not leave me,” was Betty's + inward cry, and she dropped her face on her knees. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a pleasant-tempered fellow, as you know, and I am losing + my hold on myself. The wind is blowing the mist away, and there will be a + moon. I shall find you, my good girl, in half an hour's time—and + then we shall be jolly well even.” + </p> + <p> + She had not dropped her whip, and she held it tight. If, when the + moonlight revealed the pile of hop poles to him, he suspected and sprang + at them to tear them away, she would be given strength to make one spring, + even in her agony, and she would strike at his eyes—awfully, without + one touch of compunction—she would strike—strike. + </p> + <p> + There was a brief silence, and then a match was struck again, and almost + immediately she inhaled the fragrance of an excellent cigar. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to have a comfortable smoke and stroll about—always + within sight and hearing. I daresay you are watching me, and wondering + what will happen when I discover you, I can tell you what will happen. You + are not a hysterical girl, but you will go into hysterics—and no one + will hear you.” + </p> + <p> + (All the power of her—body and soul—in one leap on him and + then a lash that would cut to the bone. And it was not a nightmare—and + Rosy was at Stornham, and her father looking over steamer lists and + choosing his staterooms.) + </p> + <p> + He walked about slowly, the scent of his cigar floating behind him. She + noticed, as she had done more than once before, that he seemed to slightly + drag one foot, and she wondered why. The wind was blowing the mist away, + and there was a faint growing of light. The moon was not full, but young, + and yet it would make a difference. But the upper part of the hedge grew + thick and close to the heap of wood, and, but for her fall, she would + never have dreamed of the refuge. + </p> + <p> + She could only guess at his movements, but his footsteps gave some clue. + He was examining the ground in as far as the darkness would allow. He went + into the shed and round about it, he opened the door of the tiny coal + lodge, and looked again into the small back kitchen. He came near—nearer—so + near once that, bending sidewise, she could have put out a hand and + touched him. He stood quite still, then made a step or so away, stood + still again, and burst into a laugh once more. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are here, are you?” he said. “You are a fine + big girl to be able to crowd yourself into a place like that!” + </p> + <p> + Hot and cold dew stood out on her forehead and made her hair damp as she + held her whip hard. + </p> + <p> + “Come out, my dear!” alluringly. “It is not too soon. Or + do you prefer that I should assist you?” + </p> + <p> + Her heart stood quite still—quite. He was standing by the wigwam of + hop poles and thought she had hidden herself inside it. Her place under + the hedge he had not even glanced at. + </p> + <p> + She knew he bent down and thrust his arm into the wigwam, for his fury at + the result expressed itself plainly enough. That he had made a fool of + himself was worse to him than all else. He actually wheeled about and + strode away to the house. + </p> + <p> + Because minutes seemed hours, she thought he was gone long, but he was not + away for twenty minutes. He had, in fact, gone into the bare front room + again, and sitting upon the box near the hearth, let his head drop in his + hands and remained in this position thinking. In the end he got up and + went out to the shed where he had left the horses. + </p> + <p> + Betty was feeling that before long she might find herself making that + strange swoop into the darkness of space again, and that it did not matter + much, as one apparently lay quite still when one was unconscious—when + she heard that one horse was being led out into the lane. What did that + mean? Had he got tired of the chase—as the other man did—and + was he going away because discomfort and fatigue had cooled and disgusted + him—perhaps even made him feel that he was playing the part of a + sensational idiot who was laying himself open to derision? That would be + like him, too. + </p> + <p> + Presently she heard his footsteps once more, but he did not come as near + her as before—in fact, he stood at some yards' distance when he + stopped and spoke—in quite a new manner. + </p> + <p> + “Betty,” his tone was even cynically cool, “I shall + stalk you no more. The chase is at an end. I think I have taken all out of + you I intended to. Perhaps it was a bad joke and was carried too far. I + wanted to prove to you that there were circumstances which might be too + much even for a young woman from New York. I have done it. Do you suppose + I am such a fool as to bring myself within reach of the law? I am going + away and will send assistance to you from the next house I pass. I have + left some matches and a few broken sticks on the hearth in the cottage. Be + a sensible girl. Limp in there and build yourself a fire as soon as you + hear me gallop away. You must be chilled through. Now I am going.” + </p> + <p> + He tramped across the bit of garden, down the brick path, mounted his + horse and put it to a gallop at once. Clack, clack, clack—clacking + fainter and fainter into the distance—and he was gone. + </p> + <p> + When she realised that the thing was true, the effect upon her of her + sense of relief was that the growing likelihood of a second swoop into + darkness died away, but one curious sob lifted her chest as she leaned + back against the rough growth behind her. As she changed her position for + a better one she felt the jagged pain again and knew that in the tenseness + of her terror she had actually for some time felt next to nothing of her + hurt. She had not even been cold, for the hedge behind and over her and + the barricade before had protected her from both wind and rain. The grass + beneath her was not damp for the same reason. The weary thought rose in + her mind that she might even lie down and sleep. But she pulled herself + together and told herself that this was like the temptation of believing + in the nightmare. He was gone, and she had a respite—but was it to + be anything more? She did not make any attempt to leave her place of + concealment, remembering the strange things she had learned in watching + him, and the strange terror in which Rosalie lived. + </p> + <p> + “One never knows what he will do next; I will not stir,” she + said through her teeth. “No, I will not stir from here.” + </p> + <p> + And she did not, but sat still, while the pain came back to her body and + the anguish to her heart—and sometimes such heaviness that her head + dropped forward upon her knees again, and she fell into a stupefied + half-doze. + </p> + <p> + From one such doze she awakened with a start, hearing a slight click of + the gate. After it, there were several seconds of dead silence. It was the + slightness of the click which was startling—if it had not been + caused by the wind, it had been caused by someone's having cautiously + moved it—and this someone wishing to make a soundless approach had + immediately stood still and was waiting. There was only one person who + would do that. By this time, the mist being blown away, the light of the + moon began to make a growing clearness. She lifted her hand and delicately + held aside a few twigs that she might look out. + </p> + <p> + She had been quite right in deciding not to move. Nigel Anstruthers had + come back, and after his pause turned, and avoiding the brick path, stole + over the grass to the cottage door. His going had merely been an + inspiration to trap her, and the wood and matches had been intended to + make a beacon light for him. That was like him, as well. His horse he had + left down the road. + </p> + <p> + But the relief of his absence had been good for her, and she was able to + check the shuddering fit which threatened her for a moment. The next, her + ears awoke to a new sound. Something was stumbling heavily about the patch + of garden—some animal. A cropping of grass, a snorting breath, and + more stumbling hoofs, and she knew that Childe Harold had managed to + loosen his bridle and limp out of the shed. The mere sense of his nearness + seemed a sort of protection. + </p> + <p> + He had limped and stumbled to the front part of the garden before Nigel + heard him. When he did hear, he came out of the house in the humour of a + man the inflaming of whose mood has been cumulative; Childe Harold's + temper also was not to be trifled with. He threw up his head, swinging the + bridle out of reach; he snorted, and even reared with an ugly lashing of + his forefeet. + </p> + <p> + “Good boy!” whispered Betty. “Do not let him take you—do + not!” + </p> + <p> + If he remained where he was he would attract attention if anyone passed + by. “Fight, Childe Harold, be as vicious as you choose—do not + allow yourself to be dragged back.” + </p> + <p> + And fight he did, with an ugliness of temper he had never shown before—with + snortings and tossed head and lashed-out heels, as if he knew he was + fighting to gain time and with a purpose. + </p> + <p> + But in the midst of the struggle Nigel Anstruthers stopped suddenly. He + had stumbled again, and risen raging and stained with damp earth. Now he + stood still, panting for breath—as still as he had stood after the + click of the gate. Was he—listening? What was he listening to? Had + she moved in her excitement, and was it possible he had caught the sound? + No, he was listening to something else. Far up the road it echoed, but + coming nearer every moment, and very fast. Another horse—a big one—galloping + hard. Whosoever it was would pass this place; it could only be a man—God + grant that he would not go by so quickly that his attention would not be + arrested by a shriek! Cry out she must—and if he did not hear and + went galloping on his way she would have betrayed herself and be lost. + </p> + <p> + She bit off a groan by biting her lip. + </p> + <p> + “You who died to-day—now—now!” + </p> + <p> + Nearer and nearer. No human creature could pass by a thing like this—it + would not be possible. And Childe Harold, backing and fighting, scented + the other horse and neighed fiercely and high. The rider was slackening + his pace; he was near the lane. He had turned into it and stopped. Now for + her one frantic cry—but before she could gather power to give it + forth, the man who had stopped had flung himself from his saddle and was + inside the garden speaking. A big voice and a clear one, with a ringing + tone of authority. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here? And what is the matter with Miss + Vanderpoel's horse?” it called out. + </p> + <p> + Now there was danger of the swoop into the darkness—great danger—though + she clutched at the hedge that she might feel its thorns and hold herself + to the earth. + </p> + <p> + “YOU!” Nigel Anstruthers cried out. “You!” and + flung forth a shout of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” fiercely. “Lady Anstruthers is + terrified. We have been searching for hours. Only just now I heard on the + marsh that she had been seen to ride this way. Where is she, I say?” + </p> + <p> + A strong, angry, earthly voice—not part of the melodrama—not + part of a dream, but a voice she knew, and whose sound caused her heart to + leap to her throat, while she trembled from head to foot, and a light, + cold dampness broke forth on her skin. Something had been a dream—her + wild, desolate ride—the slow tolling; for the voice which commanded + with such human fierceness was that of the man for whom the heavy bell had + struck forth from the church tower. + </p> + <p> + Sir Nigel recovered himself brilliantly. Not that he did not recognise + that he had been a fool again and was in a nasty place; but it was not for + the first time in his life, and he had learned how to brazen himself out + of nasty places. + </p> + <p> + “My dear Mount Dunstan,” he answered with tolerant irritation, + “I have been having a devil of a time with female hysterics. She + heard the bell toll and ran away with the idea that it was for you, and + paid you the compliment of losing her head. I came on her here when she + had ridden her horse half to death and they had both come a cropper. + Confound women's hysterics! I could do nothing with her. When I left her + for a moment she ran away and hid herself. She is concealed somewhere on + the place or has limped off on to the marsh. I wish some New York + millionairess would work herself into hysteria on my humble account.” + </p> + <p> + “Those are lies,” Mount Dunstan answered—“every + damned one of them!” + </p> + <p> + He wheeled around to look about him, attracted by a sound, and in the + clearing moonlight saw a figure approaching which might have risen from + the earth, so far as he could guess where it had come from. He strode over + to it, and it was Betty Vanderpoel, holding her whip in a clenched hand + and showing to his eagerness such hunted face and eyes as were barely + human. He caught her unsteadiness to support it, and felt her fingers + clutch at the tweed of his coatsleeve and move there as if the mere + feeling of its rough texture brought heavenly comfort to her and gave her + strength. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they are lies, Lord Mount Dunstan,” she panted. “He + said that he meant to get what he called 'even' with me. He told me I + could not get away from him and that no one would hear me if I cried out + for help. I have hidden like some hunted animal.” Her shaking voice + broke, and she held the cloth of his sleeve tightly. “You are alive—alive!” + with a sudden sweet wildness. “But it is true the bell tolled! While + I was crouching in the dark I called to you—who died to-day—to + stand between us!” + </p> + <p> + The man absolutely shuddered from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “I was alive, and you see I heard you and came,” he answered + hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the cottage. Her cheek felt + the enrapturing roughness of his tweed shoulder as he did it. He laid her + down on the couch of hay and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Don't move,” he said. “I will come back. You are safe.” + </p> + <p> + If there had been more light she would have seen that his jaw was set like + a bulldog's, and there was a red spark in his eyes—a fearsome one. + But though she did not clearly see, she KNEW, and the nearness of the last + hours swept away all relenting. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers having discreetly waited until the two had passed into + the house, and feeling that a man would be an idiot who did not remove + himself from an atmosphere so highly charged, was making his way toward + the lane and was, indeed, halfway through the gate when heavy feet were + behind him and a grip of ugly strength wrenched him backward. + </p> + <p> + “Your horse is cropping the grass where you left him, but you are + not going to him,” said a singularly meaning voice. “You are + coming with me.” + </p> + <p> + Anstruthers endeavoured to convince himself that he did not at that moment + turn deadly sick and that the brute would not make an ass of himself. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be a bally fool!” he cried out, trying to tear himself + free. + </p> + <p> + The muscular hand on his shoulder being reinforced by another, which + clutched his collar, dragged him back, stumbling ignominiously through the + gooseberry bushes towards the cart-shed. Betty lying upon her bed of hay + heard the scuffling, mingled with raging and gasping curses. Childe + Harold, lifting his head from his cropping of the grass, looked after the + violently jerking figures and snorted slightly, snuffing with dilated red + nostrils. As a war horse scenting blood and battle, he was excited. + </p> + <p> + When Mount Dunstan got his captive into the shed the blood which had + surged in Red Godwyn's veins was up and leaping. Anstruthers, his collar + held by a hand with fingers of iron, writhed about and turned a livid, + ghastly face upon his captor. + </p> + <p> + “You have twice my strength and half my age, you beast and devil!” + he foamed in a half shriek, and poured forth frightful blasphemies. + </p> + <p> + “That counts between man and man, but not between vermin and + executioner,” gave back Mount Dunstan. + </p> + <p> + The heavy whip, flung upward, whistled down through the air, cutting + through cloth and linen as though it would cut through flesh to bone. + </p> + <p> + “By God!” shrieked the writhing thing he held, leaping like a + man who has been shot. “Don't do that again! DAMN you!” as the + unswerving lash cut down again—again. + </p> + <p> + What followed would not be good to describe. Betty through the open door + heard wild and awful things—and more than once a sound as if a dog + were howling. + </p> + <p> + When the thing was over, one of the two—his clothes cut to ribbons, + his torn white linen exposed, lay, a writhing, huddled worm, hiccoughing + frenzied sobs upon the earth in a corner of the cart-shed. The other man + stood over him, breathless and white, but singularly exalted. + </p> + <p> + “You won't want your horse to-night, because you can't use him,” + he said. “I shall put Miss Vanderpoel's saddle upon him and ride + with her back to Stornham. You think you are cut to pieces, but you are + not, and you'll get over it. I'll ask you to mark, however, that if you + open your foul mouth to insinuate lies concerning either Lady Anstruthers + or her sister I will do this thing again in public some day—on the + steps of your club—and do it more thoroughly.” + </p> + <p> + He walked into the cottage soon afterwards looking, to Betty Vanderpoel's + eyes, pale and exceptionally big, and also more a man than it is often + given even to the most virile male creature to look—and he walked to + the side of her resting place and stood there looking down. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I heard a dog howl,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “You did hear a dog howl,” he answered. He said no other word, + and she asked no further question. She knew what he had done, and he was + well aware that she knew it. + </p> + <p> + There was a long, strangely tense silence. The light of the moon was + growing. She made at first no effort to rise, but lay still and looked up + at him from under splendid lifted lashes, while his own gaze fell into the + depth of hers like a plummet into a deep pool. This continued for almost a + full minute, when he turned quickly away and walked to the hearth, + indrawing a heavy breath. + </p> + <p> + He could not endure that which beset him; it was unbearable, because her + eyes had maddeningly seemed to ask him some wistful question. Why did she + let her loveliness so call to him. She was not a trifler who could play + with meanings. Perhaps she did not know what her power was. Sometimes he + could believe that beautiful women did not. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments, almost before he could reach her, she was rising, and + when she got up she supported herself against the open door, standing in + the moonlight. If he was pale, she was pale also, and her large eyes would + not move from his face, so drawing him that he could not keep away from + her. + </p> + <p> + “Listen,” he broke out suddenly. “Penzance told me—warned + me—that some time a moment would come which would be stronger than + all else in a man—than all else in the world. It has come now. Let + me take you home.” + </p> + <p> + “Than what else?” she said slowly, and became even paler than + before. + </p> + <p> + He strove to release himself from the possession of the moment, and in his + struggle answered with a sort of savagery. + </p> + <p> + “Than scruple—than power—even than a man's determination + and decent pride.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you proud?” she half whispered quite brokenly. “I + am not—since I waited for the ringing of the church bell—since + I heard it toll. After that the world was empty—and it was as empty + of decent pride as of everything else. There was nothing left. I was the + humblest broken thing on earth.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” he gasped. “Do you know I think I shall go mad + directly perhaps it is happening now. YOU were humble and broken—your + world was empty! Because——?” + </p> + <p> + “Look at me, Lord Mount Dunstan,” and the sweetest voice in + the world was a tender, wild little cry to him. “Oh LOOK at me!” + </p> + <p> + He caught her out-thrown hands and looked down into the beautiful + passionate soul of her. The moment had come, and the tidal wave rising to + its height swept all the common earth away when, with a savage sob, he + caught and held her close and hard against that which thudded racing in + his breast. + </p> + <p> + And they stood and swayed together, folded in each other's arms, while the + wind from the marshes lifted its voice like an exulting human thing as it + swept about them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0049" id="link2HCH0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIX + </h2> + <h3> + AT STORNHAM AND AT BROADMORLANDS + </h3> + <p> + The exulting wind had swept the clouds away, and the moon rode in a dark + blue sea of sky, making the night light purely clear, when they drew a + little apart, that they might better see the wonderfulness in each other's + faces. It was so mysteriously great a thing that they felt near to awe. + </p> + <p> + “I fought too long. I wore out my body's endurance, and now I am + quaking like a boy. Red Godwyn did not begin his wooing like this. Forgive + me,” Mount Dunstan said at last. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” with lovely trembling lips and voice, “that + for long—long—you have been unkind to me?” + </p> + <p> + It was merely human that he should swiftly enfold her again, and answer + with his lips against her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Unkind! Unkind! Oh, the heavenly woman's sweetness of your telling + me so—the heavenly sweetness of it!” he exclaimed passionately + and low. “And I was one of those who are 'by the roadside + everywhere,' an unkempt, raging beggar, who might not decently ask you for + a crust.” + </p> + <p> + “It was all wrong—wrong!” she whispered back to him, and + he poured forth the tenderest, fierce words of confession and prayer, and + she listened, drinking them in, with now and then a soft sob pressed + against the roughness of the enrapturing tweed. For a space they had both + forgotten her hurt, because there are other things than terror which + hypnotise pain. Mount Dunstan was to be praised for remembering it first. + He must take her back to Stornham and her sister without further delay. + </p> + <p> + “I will put your saddle on Anstruthers' horse, or mine, and lift you + to your seat. There is a farmhouse about two miles away, where I will take + you first for food and warmth. Perhaps it would be well for you to stay + there to rest for an hour or so, and I will send a message to Lady + Anstruthers.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go to the place, and eat and drink what you advise,” + she answered. “But I beg you to take me back to Rosalie without + delay. I feel that I must see her.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel that I must see her, too,” he said. “But for her—God + bless her!” he added, after his sudden pause. + </p> + <p> + Betty knew that the exclamation meant strong feeling, and that somehow in + the past hours Rosalie had awakened it. But it was only when, after their + refreshment at the farm, they had taken horse again and were riding + homeward together, that she heard from him what had passed between them. + </p> + <p> + “All that has led to this may seem the merest chance,” he + said. “But surely a strange thing has come about. I know that + without understanding it.” He leaned over and touched her hand. + “You, who are Life—without understanding I ride here beside + you, believing that you brought me back.” + </p> + <p> + “I tried—I tried! With all my strength, I tried.” + </p> + <p> + “After I had seen your sister to-day, I guessed—I knew. But + not at first. I was not ill of the fever, as excited rumour had it; but I + was ill, and the doctors and the vicar were alarmed. I had fought too + long, and I was giving up, as I have seen the poor fellows in the ballroom + give up. If they were not dragged back they slipped out of one's hands. If + the fever had developed, all would have been over quickly. I knew the + doctors feared that, and I am ashamed to say I was glad of it. But, + yesterday, in the morning, when I was letting myself go with a morbid + pleasure in the luxurious relief of it—something reached me—some + slow rising call to effort and life.” + </p> + <p> + She turned towards him in her saddle, listening, her lips parted. + </p> + <p> + “I did not even ask myself what was happening, but I began to be + conscious of being drawn back, and to long intensely to see you again. I + was gradually filled with a restless feeling that you were near me, and + that, though I could not physically hear your voice, you were surely + CALLING to me. It was the thing which could not be—but it was—and + because of it I could not let myself drift.” + </p> + <p> + “I did call you! I was on my knees in the church asking to be + forgiven if I prayed mad prayers—but praying the same thing over and + over. The villagers were kneeling there, too. They crowded in, leaving + everything else. You are their hero, and they were in deep earnest.” + </p> + <p> + His look was gravely pondering. His life had not made a mystic of him—it + was Penzance who was the mystic—but he felt himself perplexed by + mysteriously suggestive thought. + </p> + <p> + “I was brought back—I was brought back,” he said. + “In the afternoon I fell asleep and slept profoundly until the + morning. When I awoke, I realised that I was a remade man. The doctors + were almost awed when I first spoke to them. Old Dr. Fenwick died later, + and, after I had heard about it, the church bell was tolled. It was heard + at Weaver's farmhouse, and, as everybody had been excitedly waiting for + the sound, it conveyed but one idea to them—and the boy was sent + racing across the fields to Stornham village. Dearest! Dearest!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She had bowed her head and burst into passionate sobbing. Because she was + not of the women who wept, her moment's passion was strong and bitter. + </p> + <p> + “It need not have been!” she shuddered. “One cannot bear + it—because it need not have been!” + </p> + <p> + “Stop your horse a moment,” he said, reining in his own, + while, with burning eyes and swelling throat, he held and steadied her. + But he did not know that neither her sister nor her father had ever seen + her in such mood, and that she had never so seen herself. + </p> + <p> + “You shall not remember it,” he said to her. + </p> + <p> + “I will not,” she answered, recovering herself. “But for + one moment all the awful hours rushed back. Tell me the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “We did not know that the blunder had been made until a messenger + from Dole rode over to inquire and bring messages of condolence. Then we + understood what had occurred and I own a sort of frenzy seized me. I knew + I must see you, and, though the doctors were horribly nervous, they dare + not hold me back. The day before it would not have been believed that I + could leave my room. You were crying out to me, and though I did not know, + I was answering, body and soul. Penzance knew I must have my way when I + spoke to him—mad as it seemed. When I rode through Stornham village, + more than one woman screamed at sight of me. I shall not be able to blot + out of my mind your sister's face. She will tell you what we said to each + other. I rode away from the Court quite half mad——” his + voice became very gentle, “because of something she had told me in + the first wild moments.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Anstruthers had spent the night moving restlessly from one room to + another, and had not been to bed when they rode side by side up the avenue + in the early morning sunlight. An under keeper, crossing the park a few + hundred yards above them, after one glance, dashed across the sward to the + courtyard and the servants' hall. The news flashed electrically through + the house, and Rosalie, like a small ghost, came out upon the steps as + they reined in. Though her lips moved, she could not speak aloud, as she + watched Mount Dunstan lift her sister from her horse. + </p> + <p> + “Childe Harold stumbled and I hurt my foot,” said Betty, + trying to be calm. + </p> + <p> + “I knew he would find you!” Rosalie answered quite faintly. + “I knew you would!” turning to Mount Dunstan, adoring him with + all the meaning of her small paled face. + </p> + <p> + She would have been afraid of her memory of what she had said in the + strange scene which had taken place before them a few hours ago, but + almost before either of the two spoke she knew that a great gulf had been + crossed in some one inevitable, though unforeseen, leap. How it had been + taken, when or where, did not in the least matter, when she clung to Betty + and Betty clung to her. + </p> + <p> + After a few moments of moved and reverent waiting, the admirable Jennings + stepped forward and addressed her in lowered voice. + </p> + <p> + “There's been little sleep in the village this night, my lady,” + he murmured earnestly. “I promised they should have a sign, with + your permission. If the flag was run up—they're all looking out, and + they'd know.” + </p> + <p> + “Run it up, Jennings,” Lady Anstruthers answered, “at + once.” + </p> + <p> + When it ran up the staff on the tower and fluttered out in gay answering + to the morning breeze, children in the village began to run about + shouting, men and women appeared at cottage doors, and more than one cap + was thrown up in the air. But old Doby and Mrs. Welden, who had been + waiting for hours, standing by Mrs. Welden's gate, caught each other's + dry, trembling old hands and began to cry. + </p> + <p> + The Broadmorlands divorce scandal, having made conversation during a + season quite forty years before Miss Vanderpoel appeared at Stornham + Court, had been laid upon a lower shelf and buried beneath other stories + long enough to be forgotten. Only one individual had not forgotten it, and + he was the Duke of Broadmorlands himself, in whose mind it remained + hideously clear. He had been a young man, honestly and much in love when + it first revealed itself to him, and for a few months he had even thought + it might end by being his death, notwithstanding that he was strong and in + first-rate physical condition. He had been a fine, hearty young man of + clean and rather dignified life, though he was not understood to be + brilliant of mind. Privately he had ideals connected with his rank and + name which he was not fluent enough clearly to express. After he had + realised that he should not die of the public humiliation and disgrace, + which seemed to point him out as having been the kind of gullible fool it + is scarcely possible to avoid laughing at—or, so it seemed to him in + his heart-seared frenzy—he thought it not improbable that he should + go mad. He was harried so by memories of lovely little soft ways of + Edith's (his wife's name was Edith), of the pretty sound of her laugh, and + of her innocent, girlish habit of kneeling down by her bedside every night + and morning to say her prayers. This had so touched him that he had + sometimes knelt down to say his, too, saying to her, with slight awkward + boyishness, that a fellow who had a sort of angel for his wife ought to do + his best to believe in the things she believed in. + </p> + <p> + “And all the time——!” a devil who laughed used to + snigger in his ear over and over again, until it was almost like the + ticking of a clock during the worst months, when it did not seem probable + that a man could feel his brain whirling like a Catherine wheel night and + day, and still manage to hold on and not reach the point of howling and + shrieking and dashing his skull against wails and furniture. + </p> + <p> + But that passed in time, and he told himself that he passed with it. Since + then he had lived chiefly at Broadmorlands Castle, and was spoken of as a + man who had become religious, which was not true, but, having reached the + decision that religion was good for most people, he paid a good deal of + attention to his church and schools, and was rigorous in the matter of + curates. + </p> + <p> + He had passed seventy now, and was somewhat despotic and haughty, because + a man who is a Duke and does not go out into the world to rub against men + of his own class and others, but lives altogether on a great and splendid + estate, saluted by every creature he meets, and universally obeyed and + counted before all else, is not unlikely to forget that he is a quite + ordinary human being, and not a sort of monarch. + </p> + <p> + He had done his best to forget Edith, who had soon died of being a shady + curate's wife in Australia, but he had not been able to encompass it. He + used, occasionally, to dream she was kneeling by the bed in her childish + nightgown saying her prayers aloud, and would waken crying—as he had + cried in those awful young days. Against social immorality or village + light-mindedness he was relentlessly savage. He allowed for no palliating + or exonerating facts. He began to see red when he heard of or saw + lightness in a married woman, and the outside world frequently said that + this characteristic bordered on monomania. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers, having met him once or twice, had at first been much + amused by him, and had even, by giving him an adroitly careful lead, + managed to guide him into an expression of opinion. The Duke, who had + heard men of his class discussed, did not in the least like him, + notwithstanding his sympathetic suavity of manner and his air of being + intelligently impressed by what he heard. Not long afterwards, however, it + transpired that the aged rector of Broadmorlands having died, the living + had been given to Ffolliott, and, hearing it, Sir Nigel was not slow to + conjecture that quite decently utilisable tools would lie ready to his + hand if circumstances pressed; this point of view, it will be seen, being + not illogical. A man who had not been a sort of hermit would have heard + enough of him to be put on his guard, and one who was a man of the world, + looking normally on existence, would have reasoned coolly, and declined to + concern himself about what was not his affair. But a parallel might be + drawn between Broadmorlands and some old lion wounded sorely in his youth + and left to drag his unhealed torment through the years of age. On one + subject he had no point of view but his own, and could be roused to fury + almost senseless by wholly inadequately supported facts. He presented + exactly the material required—and that in mass. + </p> + <p> + About the time the flag was run up on the tower at Stornham Court a + carter, driving whistling on the road near the deserted cottage, was + hailed by a man who was walking slowly a few yards ahead of him. The + carter thought that he was a tramp, as his clothes were plainly in bad + case, which seeing, his answer was an unceremonious grunt, and it + certainly did not occur to him to touch his forehead. A minute later, + however, he “got a start,” as he related afterwards. The tramp + was a gentleman whose riding costume was torn and muddied, and who looked + “gashly,” though he spoke with the manner and authority which + Binns, the carter, recognised as that of one of the “gentry” + addressing a day-labourer. + </p> + <p> + “How far is it from here to Medham?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Medham be about four mile, sir,” was the answer. “I be + carryin' these 'taters there to market.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to get there. I have met with an accident. My horse took + fright at a pheasant starting up rocketting under his nose. He threw me + into a hedge and bolted. I'm badly enough bruised to want to reach a town + and see a doctor. Can you give me a lift?” + </p> + <p> + “That I will, sir, ready enough,” making room on the seat + beside him. “You be bruised bad, sir,” he said + sympathetically, as his passenger climbed to his place, with a twisted + face and uttering blasphemies under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Damned badly,” he answered. “No bones broken, however.” + </p> + <p> + “That cut on your cheek and neck'll need plasterin', sir.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a scratch. Thorn bush,” curtly. + </p> + <p> + Sympathy was plainly not welcome. In fact Binns was soon of the opinion + that here was an ugly customer, gentleman or no gentleman. A jolting cart + was, however, not the best place for a man who seemed sore from head to + foot, and done for out and out. He sat and ground his teeth, as he clung + to the rough seat in the attempt to steady himself. He became more and + more “gashly,” and a certain awful light in his eyes alarmed + the carter by leaping up at every jolt. Binns was glad when he left him at + Medham Arms, and felt he had earned the half-sovereign handed to him. + </p> + <p> + Four days Anstruthers lay in bed in a room at the Inn. No one saw him but + the man who brought him food. He did not send for a doctor, because he did + not wish to see one. He sent for such remedies as were needed by a man who + had been bruised by a fall from his horse. He made no remark which could + be considered explanatory, after he had said irritably that a man was a + fool to go loitering along on a nervous brute who needed watching. + Whatsoever happened was his own damned fault. + </p> + <p> + Through hours of day and night he lay staring at the whitewashed beams or + the blue roses on the wall paper. They were long hours, and filled with + things not pleasant enough to dwell on in detail. Physical misery which + made a man writhe at times was not the worst part of them. There were a + thousand things less endurable. More than once he foamed at the mouth, and + recognised that he gibbered like a madman. + </p> + <p> + There was but one memory which saved him from feeling that this was the + very end of things. That was the memory of Broadmorlands. While a man had + a weapon left, even though it could not save him, he might pay up with it—get + almost even. The whole Vanderpoel lot could be plunged neck deep in a + morass which would leave mud enough sticking to them, even if their money + helped them to prevent its entirely closing over their heads. He could + attend to that, and, after he had set it well going, he could get out. + There were India, South Africa, Australia—a dozen places that would + do. And then he would remember Betty Vanderpoel, and curse horribly under + the bed clothes. It was the memory of Betty which outdid all others in its + power to torment. + </p> + <p> + On the morning of the fifth day the Duke of Broadmorlands received a note, + which he read with somewhat annoyed curiosity. A certain Sir Nigel + Anstruthers, whom it appeared he ought to be able to recall, was in the + neighbourhood, and wished to see him on a parochial matter of interest. + “Parochial matter” was vague, and so was the Duke's + recollection of the man who addressed him. If his memory served him + rightly, he had met him in a country house in Somersetshire, and had heard + that he was the acquaintance of the disreputable eldest son. What could a + person of that sort have to say of parochial matters? The Duke considered, + and then, in obedience to a rigorous conscience, decided that one ought, + perhaps, to give him half an hour. + </p> + <p> + There was that in the intruder's aspect, when he arrived in the afternoon, + which produced somewhat the effect of shock. In the first place, a man in + his unconcealable physical condition had no right to be out of his bed. + Though he plainly refused to admit the fact, his manner of bearing himself + erect, and even with a certain touch of cool swagger, was, it was evident, + achieved only by determined effort. He looked like a man who had not yet + recovered from some evil fever. Since the meeting in Somersetshire he had + aged more than the year warranted. Despite his obstinate fight with + himself it was obvious that he was horribly shaky. A disagreeable scratch + or cut, running from cheek to neck, did not improve his personal + appearance. + </p> + <p> + He pleased his host no more than he had pleased him at their first + encounter; he, in fact, repelled him strongly, by suggesting a degree of + abnormality of mood which was smoothed over by an attempt at entire + normality of manner. The Duke did not present an approachable front as, + after Anstruthers had taken a chair, he sat and examined him with bright + blue old eyes set deep on either side of a dominant nose and framed over + by white eyebrows. No, Nigel Anstruthers summed him up, it would not be + easy to open the matter with the old fool. He held himself magnificently + aloof, with that lack of modernity in his sense of place which, even at + this late day, sometimes expressed itself here and there in the manner of + the feudal survival. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you have been ill,” with rigid civility. + </p> + <p> + “A man feels rather an outsider in confessing he has let his horse + throw him into a hedge. It was my own fault entirely. I allowed myself to + forget that I was riding a dangerously nervous brute. I was thinking of a + painful and absorbing subject. I was badly bruised and scratched, but that + was all.” + </p> + <p> + “What did your doctor say?” + </p> + <p> + “That I was in luck not to have broken my neck.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better have a glass of wine,” touching a bell. + “You do not look equal to any exertion.” + </p> + <p> + In gathering himself together, Sir Nigel felt he was forced to use + enormous effort. It had cost him a gruesome physical struggle to endure + the drive over to Broadmorlands, though it was only a few miles from + Medham. There had been something unnatural in the exertion necessary to + sit upright and keep his mind decently clear. That was the worst of it. + The fever and raging hours of the past days and nights had so shaken him + that he had become exhausted, and his brain was not alert. He was not + thinking rapidly, and several times he had lost sight of a point it was + important to remember. He grew hot and cold and knew his hands and voice + shook, as he answered. But, perhaps—he felt desperately—signs + of emotion were not bad. + </p> + <p> + “I am not quite equal to exertion,” he began slowly. “But + a man cannot lie on his bed while some things are undone—a MAN + cannot.” + </p> + <p> + As the old Duke sat upright, the blue eyes under his bent brows were + startled, as well as curious. Was the man going out of his mind about + something? He looked rather like it, with the dampness starting out on his + haggard face, and the ugly look suddenly stamped there. The fact was that + the insensate fury which had possessed and torn Anstruthers as he had + writhed in his inn bedroom had sprung upon him again in full force, and + his weakness could not control it, though it would have been wiser to hold + it in check. He also felt frightfully ill, which filled him with despair, + and, through this fact, he lost sight of the effect he produced, as he + stood up, shaking all over. + </p> + <p> + “I come to you because you are the one man who can most easily + understand the thing I have been concealing for a good many years.” + </p> + <p> + The Duke was irritated. Confound the objectionable idiot, what did he mean + by taking that intimate tone with a man who was not prepared to concern + himself in his affairs? + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he said, holding up an authoritative hand, + “are you going to make a confession? I don't like such things. I + prefer to be excused. Personal confidences are not parochial matters.” + </p> + <p> + “This one is.” And Sir Nigel was sickeningly conscious that he + was putting the statement rashly, while at the same time all better words + escaped him. “It is as much a parochial matter,” losing all + hold on his wits and stammering, “as was—as was—the + affair of—your wife.” + </p> + <p> + It was the Duke who stood up now, scarlet with anger. He sprang from his + chair as if he had been a young man in whom some insult had struck blazing + fire. + </p> + <p> + “You—you dare!” he shouted. “You insolent + blackguard! You force your way in here and dare—dare——!” + And he clenched his fist, wildly shaking it. + </p> + <p> + Nigel Anstruthers, staggering on his uncertain feet, would have shouted + also, but could not, though he tried, and he heard his own voice come + forth brokenly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I dare! I—your—my own—my——!” + </p> + <p> + Swaying and tottering, he swung round to the chair he had left, and fell + into it, even while the old Duke, who stood raging before him, started + back in outraged amazement. What was the fellow doing? Was he making faces + at him? The drawn malignant mouth and muscles suggested it. Was he a + lunatic, indeed? But the sense of disgusted outrage changed all at once to + horror, as, with a countenance still more hideously livid and twisted, his + visitor slid helplessly from his seat and lay a huddling heap of clothes + on the floor. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0050" id="link2HCH0050"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> -- </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER L + </h2> + <h3> + THE PRIMEVAL THING + </h3> + <p> + When Mr. Vanderpoel landed in England his wife was with him. This + quiet-faced woman, who was known to be on her way to join her daughter in + England, was much discussed, envied, and glanced at, when she promenaded + the deck with her husband, or sat in her chair softly wrapped in wonderful + furs. Gradually, during the past months, she had been told certain + modified truths connected with her elder daughter's marriage. They had + been painful truths, but had been so softened and expurgated of their + worst features that it had been possible to bear them, when one realised + that they did not, at least, mean that Rosy had forgotten or ceased to + love her mother and father, or wish to visit her home. The steady + clearness of foresight and readiness of resource which were often spoken + of as being specially characteristic of Reuben S. Vanderpoel, were all + required, and employed with great tenderness, in the management of this + situation. As little as it was possible that his wife should know, was the + utmost she must hear and be hurt by. Unless ensuing events compelled + further revelations, the rest of it should be kept from her. As further + protection, her husband had frankly asked her to content herself with a + degree of limited information. + </p> + <p> + “I have meant all our lives, Annie, to keep from you the unpleasant + things a woman need not be troubled with,” he had said. “I + promised myself I would when you were a girl. I knew you would face + things, if I needed your help, but you were a gentle little soul, like + Rosy, and I never intended that you should bear what was useless. + Anstruthers was a blackguard, and girls of all nations have married + blackguards before. When you have Rosy safe at home, and know nothing can + hurt her again, you both may feel you would like to talk it over. Till + then we won't go into detail. You trust me, I know, when I tell you that + you shall hold Rosy in your arms very soon. We may have something of a + fight, but there can only be one end to it in a country as decent as + England. Anstruthers isn't exactly what I should call an Englishman. Men + rather like him are to be found in two or three places.” His + good-looking, shrewd, elderly face lighted with a fine smile. “My + handsome Betty has saved us a good deal by carrying out her + fifteen-year-old plan of going to find her sister,” he ended. + </p> + <p> + Before they landed they had decided that Mrs. Vanderpoel should be + comfortably established in a hotel in London, and that after this was + arranged, her husband should go to Stornham Court alone. If Sir Nigel + could be induced to listen to logic, Rosalie, her child, and Betty should + come at once to town. + </p> + <p> + “And, if he won't listen to logic,” added Mr. Vanderpoel, with + a dry composure, “they shall come just the same, my dear.” And + his wife put her arms round his neck and kissed him because she knew what + he said was quite true, and she admired him—as she had always done—greatly. + </p> + <p> + But when the pilot came on board and there began to stir in the ship the + agreeable and exciting bustle of the delivery of letters and welcoming + telegrams, among Mr. Vanderpoel's many yellow envelopes he opened one the + contents of which caused him to stand still for some moments—so + still, indeed, that some of the bystanders began to touch each other's + elbows and whisper. He certainly read the message two or three times + before he folded it up, returned it to its receptacle, and walked gravely + to his wife's sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Reuben!” she exclaimed, after her first look at him, “have + you bad news? Oh, I hope not!” + </p> + <p> + He came and sat down quietly beside her, taking her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be frightened, Annie, my dear,” he said. “I have + just been reminded of a verse in the Bible—about vengeance not + belonging to mere human beings. Nigel Anstruthers has had a stroke of + paralysis, and it is not his first. Apparently, even if he lies on his + back for some months thinking of harm, he won't be able to do it. He is + finished.” + </p> + <p> + When he was carried by the express train through the country, he saw all + that Betty had seen, though the summer had passed, and there were neither + green trees nor hedges. He knew all that the long letters had meant of + stirred emotion and affection, and he was strongly moved, though his mind + was full of many things. There were the farmhouses, the square-towered + churches, the red-pointed hop oasts, and the village children. How + distinctly she had made him see them! His Betty—his splendid Betty! + His heart beat at the thought of seeing her high, young black head, and + holding her safe in his arms again. Safe! He resented having used the + word, because there was a shock in seeming to admit the possibility that + anything in the universe could do wrong to her. Yet one man had been + villain enough to mean her harm, and to threaten her with it. He slightly + shuddered as he thought of how the man was finished—done for. + </p> + <p> + The train began to puff more loudly, as it slackened its pace. It was + drawing near to a rustic little station, and, as it passed in, he saw a + carriage standing outside, waiting on the road, and a footman in a long + coat, glancing into each window as the train went by. Two or three country + people were watching it intently. Miss Vanderpoel's father was coming up + from London on it. The stationmaster rushed to open the carriage door, and + the footman hastened forward, but a tall lovely thing in grey was opposite + the step as Mr. Vanderpoel descended it to the platform. She did not + recognise the presence of any other human being than himself. For the + moment she seemed to forget even the broad-shouldered man who had plainly + come with her. As Reuben S. Vanderpoel folded her in his arms, she folded + him and kissed him as he was not sure she had ever kissed him before. + </p> + <p> + “My splendid Betty! My own fine girl!” he said. + </p> + <p> + And when she cried out “Father! Father!” she bent and kissed + the breast of his coat. + </p> + <p> + He knew who the big young man was before she turned to present him. + </p> + <p> + “This is Lord Mount Dunstan, father,” she said. “Since + Nigel was brought home, he has been very good to us.” + </p> + <p> + Reuben S. Vanderpoel looked well into the man's eyes, as he shook hands + with him warmly, and this was what he said to himself: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she's safe. This is quite safe. It is to be trusted with the + whole thing.” + </p> + <p> + Not many days after her husband's arrival at Stornham Court, Mrs. + Vanderpoel travelled down from London, and, during her journey, scarcely + saw the wintry hedges and bare trees, because, as she sat in her cushioned + corner of the railway carriage, she was inwardly offering up gentle, + pathetically ardent prayers of gratitude. She was the woman who prays, and + the many sad petitions of the past years were being answered at last. She + was being allowed to go to Rosy—whatsoever happened, she could never + be really parted from her girl again. She asked pardon many times because + she had not been able to be really sorry when she had heard of her + son-in-law's desperate condition. She could feel pity for him in his awful + case, she told herself, but she could not wish for the thing which perhaps + she ought to wish for. She had confided this to her husband with innocent, + penitent tears, and he had stroked her cheek, which had always been his + comforting way since they had been young things together. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he said, “if a tiger with hydrophobia were + loose among a lot of decent people—or indecent ones, for the matter + of that—you would not feel it your duty to be very sorry if, in + springing on a group of them, he impaled himself on an iron fence. Don't + reproach yourself too much.” And, though the realism of the picture + he presented was such as to make her exclaim, “No! No!” there + were still occasional moments when she breathed a request for pardon if + she was hard of heart—this softest of creatures human. + </p> + <p> + It was arranged by the two who best knew and loved her that her meeting + with Rosalie should have no spectators, and that their first hour together + should be wholly unbroken in upon. + </p> + <p> + “You have not seen each other for so long,” Betty said, when, + on her arrival, she led her at once to the morning-room where Rosy waited, + pale with joy, but when the door was opened, though the two figures were + swept into each other's arms by one wild, tremulous rush of movement, + there were no sounds to be heard, only caught breaths, until the door had + closed again. + </p> + <p> + The talks which took place between Mr. Vanderpoel and Lord Mount Dunstan + were many and long, and were of absorbing interest to both. Each presented + to the other a new world, and a type of which his previous knowledge had + been but incomplete. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder,” Mr. Vanderpoel said, in the course of one of them, + “if my world appeals to you as yours appeals to me. Naturally, from + your standpoint, it scarcely seems probable. Perhaps the up-building of + large financial schemes presupposes a certain degree of imagination. I am + becoming a romantic New York man of business, and I revel in it. Kedgers, + for instance,” with the smile which, somehow, suggested Betty, + “Kedgers and the Lilium Giganteum, Mrs. Welden and old Doby threaten + to develop into quite necessary factors in the scheme of happiness. What + Betty has felt is even more comprehensible than it seemed at first.” + </p> + <p> + They walked and rode together about the countryside; when Mount Dunstan + itself was swept clean of danger, and only a few convalescents lingered to + be taken care of in the huge ballroom, they spent many days in going over + the estate. The desolate beauty of it appealed to and touched Mr. + Vanderpoel, as it had appealed to and touched his daughter, and, also, + wakened in him much new and curious delight. But Mount Dunstan, with a + touch of his old obstinacy, insisted that he should ignore the beauty, and + look closely at less admirable things. + </p> + <p> + “You must see the worst of this,” he said. “You must + understand that I can put no good face upon things, that I offer nothing, + because I have nothing to offer.” + </p> + <p> + If he had not been swept through and through by a powerful and rapturous + passion, he would have detested and abhorred these days of deliberate + proud laying bare of the nakedness of the land. But in the hours he spent + with Betty Vanderpoel the passion gave him knowledge of the things which, + being elemental, do not concern themselves with pride and obstinacy, and + do not remember them. Too much had ended, and too much begun, to leave + space or thought for poor things. In their eyes, when they were together, + and even when they were apart, dwelt a glow which was deeply moving to + those who, looking on, were sufficiently profound of thought to + understand. + </p> + <p> + Watching the two walking slowly side by side down the leafless avenue on a + crystal winter day, Mr. Vanderpoel conversed with the vicar, whom he + greatly liked. + </p> + <p> + “A young man of the name of Selden,” he remarked, “told + me more of this than he knew.” + </p> + <p> + “G. Selden,” said the vicar, with affectionate smiling. + “He is not aware that he was largely concerned in the matter. In + fact, without G. Selden, I do not know how, exactly, we should have got + on. How is he, nice fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Extremely well, and in these days in my employ. He is of the + honest, indefatigable stuff which makes its way.” + </p> + <p> + His own smiles, as he watched the two tall figures in the distance, + settled into an expression of speculative absorption, because he was + reflecting upon profoundly interesting matters. + </p> + <p> + “There is a great primeval thing which sometimes—not often, + only sometimes—occurs to two people,” he went on. “When + it leaps into being, it is well if it is not thwarted, or done to death. + It has happened to my girl and Mount Dunstan. If they had been two young + tinkers by the roadside, they would have come together, and defied their + beggary. As it is, I recognise, as I sit here, that the outcome of what is + to be may reach far, and open up broad new ways.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the vicar. “She will live here and fill a + strong man's life with wonderful human happiness—her splendid + children will be born here, and among them will be those who lead the van + and make history.” + </p> + <p> + . . . . . + </p> + <p> + For some time Nigel Anstruthers lay in his room at Stornham Court, + surrounded by all of aid and luxury that wealth and exalted medical + science could gather about him. Sometimes he lay a livid unconscious mask, + sometimes his nurses and doctors knew that in his hollow eyes there was + the light of a raging half reason, and they saw that he struggled to utter + coherent sounds which they might comprehend. This he never accomplished, + and one day, in the midst of such an effort, he was stricken dumb again, + and soon afterwards sank into stillness and died. + </p> + <p> + And the Shuttle in the hand of Fate, through every hour of every day, and + through the slow, deep breathing of all the silent nights, weaves to and + fro—to and fro—drawing with it the threads of human life and + thought which strengthen its web: and trace the figures of its yet vague + and uncompleted design. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Shuttle, by Frances Hodgson Burnett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SHUTTLE *** + +***** This file should be named 506-h.htm or 506-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/506/ + +Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger + +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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