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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6cc5290 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60413 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60413) diff --git a/old/60413-0.txt b/old/60413-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0366d92..0000000 --- a/old/60413-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8168 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Stars Incline, by Jeanne Judson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Stars Incline - -Author: Jeanne Judson - -Release Date: October 3, 2019 [EBook #60413] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STARS INCLINE *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE STARS INCLINE - - - BY - - JEANNE JUDSON - - AUTHOR OF “BECKONING ROADS” - -[Illustration] - - McCLELLAND & STEWART - - PUBLISHERS TORONTO - - 1920 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1919 - - BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. - - - PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. - - - The Quinn & Boden Company - - BOOK MANUFACTURERS - RAHWAY NEW JERSEY - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE STARS INCLINE - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -One can be nineteen and still know a great deal of the world. Ruth -Mayfield felt that she knew a great deal of the world. She could judge -character, and taking care of Mother’s business affairs had helped a -lot, and like most young women of nineteen she knew that if marriage -offered no more to her than it had offered to her parents, she did not -want to marry. Of course they hadn’t quarrelled or anything, but they -lived such dull lives, and there were always money worries—and -everything. - -Ruth had never told her mother any of these things, especially after her -father died and her mother had cried so much and had seemed to feel even -worse than Ruth did, for Ruth _had_ felt badly. She had been awfully -fond of her father, really fonder of him than of her mother. He -understood her better and it was he who had encouraged her to study art. - -That was one of the things that set her apart from other girls in -Indianapolis. She was an art student. One day she would do great things, -she knew. - -When she was a very little girl she had intended to write. She decided -this because nothing gave her so much pleasure as reading, not the sort -of books that delight the hours of the average childhood, but books -which, had her mother ever taken the trouble to look at them, would have -made her rather concerned for the future of the small reader. But Mrs. -Mayfield never troubled to look. The books all came from the -Indianapolis public library, so they must be all right. They were fairy -tales at first and later mythology. The mythology of the Greeks and -Romans which somehow never stepped out of the marble for her; and the -intensely human mythology of the Icelanders and of the Celts which she -liked better, and later the mythology of India which fascinated her most -of all because it had apparently neither beginning nor end. While her -mother and her mother’s friends were dabbling in Christian Science and -“New Thought” she was lost in the mysteries of the transmigration of -souls. Perhaps it was all this delving into the past that gave to her -wide brown eyes what is called the spirituelle look—a look decidedly -contradicted by her sturdy body; perhaps, too, it was extensive reading -that finally decided her not to try to write, but to express herself in -painting, a medium through which she could depict emotions and dramas -rather than ideas and facts. - -There came to her at the age of fourteen a development which, while it -increased her faith in things supernormal and for a while fascinated her -into a deeper delving into the religions of the East, had the final -effect of frightening her away from things of the mind and turning her -activities into more beautiful channels. She had read of the -objectification of ideas and the materialization of thoughts and wanted -to try to do these things herself, without quite knowing what exercise -she should make of her knowledge even though it came to her. Like many -people of a spiritual yet intense nature, of her five senses the sense -of smell was the keenest. She liked flowers for their odour more than -for colour or form. One winter day when she had returned home from -school and was sitting alone with her books—looking out at the -snow-laden trees instead of studying—she thought of spring and violets; -she was tired of winter, eager for the spring to come again, and she -tried to see violets, to catch their scent and their colour. She closed -her eyes and shut out the winter room and the frost-rimmed window—all -around her in great warm waves of fragrance rose the odour of -violets—exquisite English violets with the freshness of the woods in -them. She took deep breaths, keeping her eyes closed lest the miracle -should fade. Then when she had quite satisfied herself that she really -did smell violets she opened her eyes. All about her on the floor, on -the table, covering her schoolbooks, they lay, great heaps of odorous -purple blossoms mingled with rich green leaves. With a little cry of -pleasure and amazement she stretched out her hands to gather them in and -they were gone. The room was as it had been before, but the odour was -not gone. For many minutes the fragrance of violets filled her nostrils. -She was afraid to close her eyes again to bring back the vision, but the -following day she tried again, and many times afterward. She tried -different flowers, carnations and Chinese lilies. She could not always -see the flowers, but she seldom failed with the odour. The game -fascinated her so that she spent every moment that she could find alone -in materializing flowers. Then came to her the desire to take the next -step—to make other people realize her power. Her mother, being the least -imaginative person she knew as well as the one most conveniently near, -she decided to try with her. It was one evening when her father was not -at home. Her mother was busy embroidering—one of those never to be -finished articles of no conceivable use, which occupy the hands of women -who have no active interest in life. Ruth was pretending to read. She -dared not shut her eyes lest her mother should observe. But she bent -unseeing eyes over her book and concentrated on the inner vision of the -mystic—shutting out everything except the thought of violets. They were -her mother’s favourite flower. For many seconds after she herself was -surrounded by the odour of violets and could see them on her book, her -mother did not speak. Then she looked up restlessly from her embroidery. - -“Have you been using perfume, Ruth?—you know I don’t approve of young -girls—” - -“No, Mother, I haven’t. I haven’t any to use.” - -“I smell perfume—violet perfume—it’s more like real violets than just -perfume—don’t you notice it? The whole room is heavy with it.” - -She dropped her embroidery and moved about the room as if hunting for -the flowers though she knew there were none there. - -“It must have been my imagination—it’s gone now. Strange, I was sure I -smelt violets. I must ask Doctor Gorton about it. It may be a dangerous -symptom.” - -Ruth did not speak. She was rather ashamed and not a little frightened. -There was nothing of the mischievous about her. She did not want to play -tricks. She had just wanted to test her power, but this was the last -time that she consciously tried to use it. For some time the illusion of -flowers persisted whenever she thought of them, but she tried not to -think of them and before many months the experiment was a thing of the -past. It persisted in Ruth only in a deep-rooted faith in the power of -mind, and in the truth of many things that the average person considered -superstition. When she heard of deaths and births and marriages—of good -luck and bad luck—of coincidences and accidents, it seemed to her that -behind the obvious and accepted causes of all these things she could -trace an inner and spiritual reason—the working of forces that laughed -at the clumsy working of material machinery. Yet she no longer delved. -For a while she actually made a conscious effort to look at life in the -ordinary way. She was helped in this by the death of her father, which -placed her in a position of responsibility toward her invalid mother, -and made her life too full of reality to leave much room for the occult -and supernatural. - -She hadn’t realized quite how much she had loved her mother until she -died. Mother had been old-fashioned and fussy, but then all invalids -were fussy, and she had been a dear about letting her go on with her -studies after Father died, even though she wouldn’t move to Chicago as -Ruth wished. They could have lived as cheaply in Chicago and Ruth could -have gone to the art institute there, but Mother wouldn’t consent to the -move. She wanted to stay near her friends. Ruth couldn’t understand -that. Her mother’s friends were all such ordinary people. Kind-hearted, -but quite hopelessly ordinary. It was curious that her mother’s death -had realized for her one of her most cherished dreams. Mother knew that -she was going to die. The doctors had told her so, and she had told -Ruth. It made Ruth cry, but her mother didn’t shed any tears. That was -why Ruth did. If her mother had cried Ruth would have been more -controlled, but her mother was so unnaturally calm. - -“When I am gone I want you to go to your father’s sister, Gloria -Mayfield. I hate to send you there, but there’s no one else of your -blood, and you’re too young to live alone. Gloria has retired from the -stage and they say she is quite respectable now, and besides you won’t -be dependent on her. Now that there will be no more doctors’ bills to -pay, there will be enough money for you to live on, more than any young -girl ought to have in her own hands. It is all in trust and you will -have just the income until you are twenty-one.” Ruth made no comment to -this. Having handled her mother’s business affairs she knew that her -income would be very small indeed, but she and her mother had different -ideas as to how much a young girl should spend. “Of course I expect you -to pay your way with your aunt,” her mother went on. “But you must live -with some older woman and she is your father’s sister.” - -She said it as if the fact that Gloria Mayfield was her father’s sister -answered all arguments. - -“Where does Aunt Gloria live, Mother?” asked Ruth. She accepted the fact -that her mother would die soon without making an effort to persuade -either herself or her mother that there was any hope that the doctors -might be mistaken. She had known for years that her mother would not -live long. Doctors, New Thought, Christian Science, and Theosophy had -all been appealed to without having any appreciable effect on her -mother’s health. Ruth being perfectly healthy was inclined to have faith -in the New Thought. She disliked the Science because of the word -Christian, but was inclined to believe that any one of these numerous -things might have helped if used alone. When her father had died first -it had seemed unreal—impossible almost, for Ruth and her father had -always expected her mother to go first, though neither of them would -have put such a thought into words. It was just an unspoken -understanding between them. - -“In New York,” Mrs. Mayfield had answered; and Ruth was ashamed that her -first thought on hearing this amazing news was that in New York she -could study in the best American art schools. - -“How old is she?” asked Ruth. She had been a bit troubled by her -mother’s words about an older woman. Ruth had no desire to go to New -York to be controlled by some elderly female relative. - -“I don’t know. I never saw her. In her younger days she was abroad a -great deal, and then I never cared to meet her. She was younger than -your father, quite a lot younger, but she must have reached years of -discretion by this time. I hope so for your sake. Perhaps I’m not doing -the right thing by telling you to go to her, but after all she is your -father’s sister and will be your only relative after I am gone.” - -“Have you written to her—do you want me to write?” - -“No. I didn’t write to her before and I can’t start now. You will go to -her after I’m gone as your father’s daughter. Your claim on her is -through him, not me. You can write to her yourself as soon—as soon as -you know. Her address is in that little red book on the desk—at least -that was her address five years ago, when your poor father died. She -didn’t come to the funeral, though she did write to me, and she may have -moved since. She probably has. I think on the whole you’d better write -now so that the letter will have time to follow her.” - -Ruth did write and her aunt had not moved, for by a curious coincidence -Aunt Gloria’s answer came on the very day that her mother died. At the -time, concerned with her grief, Ruth didn’t read the letter very -carefully, but afterward—after the funeral, and after all the -innumerable details had been settled, she went back to it and read it -again. She didn’t know exactly what to think of it. It filled her with -doubts. Almost she persuaded herself to disregard her mother’s wish and -not go to Aunt Gloria at all, but she had already told all her mother’s -kind friends that that was what she would do. It gave her a logical -excuse for refusing all of the offers of the well-meaning women who -asked her to come and stop with them “for a few weeks at least until you -are more yourself.” - -Ruth realized that she had never felt so much herself as she did -now—rather hopelessly alone and independent in a way that frightened -her. These kind women were all her mother’s friends, not hers. She had -none. She had always prided herself on being different from other girls -and not interested in the things they cared for—boys and parties and -dress. Even at the art school she had found the other students -disappointingly frivolous. They had not taken their art seriously as she -did. The letter was curious: - -“My dear child,” she had written, “by all means come to me in New York -if your mother dies. But why anticipate? She’ll probably live for years. -I hope so. To say I hope so sounds almost like a lack of hospitality and -to send you an urgent invitation to come, under the circumstances, -sounds—This is getting too complicated. Come whenever you need me, I’m -always at home now.” - -And the letter was signed with her full name, Gloria Mayfield. She had -not even called Ruth niece, or signed herself “your loving aunt,” or -anything that might be reasonably expected. - -Ruth might have lingered on at home, but she had refused the hospitality -of her mother’s friends and the house was empty and desolate and she was -dressed in black. She hadn’t wanted to dress in black, but she hadn’t -the courage to shock people by continuing to wear colours, so she -hurriedly finished all the ghastly business that some one must always -finish after a funeral, and then she packed her trunks, putting in all -the pictures and books that she liked best, and took a train for New -York. She had a plan in the back of her mind about a studio there. She -had never seen a real studio, but she had read about them, and if Aunt -Gloria proved disagreeable, she would go and live in one. She wondered a -bit what sort of a place Aunt Gloria lived in. The address sounded -aristocratic and sort of English, Gramercy Square. She liked the sound -of it. - -Her mother’s death had hurt her cruelly, but she was so young that -already she was beginning to rebound. The journey helped to revive her -spirits. Everything interested her, but her first sight of New York -disappointed her vaguely. If she had known, her disappointment was -caused only because the cab driver took her down Fourth Avenue instead -of Fifth, and there was little to interest her in the dull publishing -buildings and wholesale houses, and she missed even the shabby green of -Madison Square. Her spirits rose a bit when the cab turned into Gramercy -Square. All the fresh greenness of it, the children playing within the -iron-barred enclosure, the old-fashioned houses and clubs and the big, -new apartment buildings looking so clean and quiet in the morning -sunlight, appealed to her. She rather expected the cab to stop before -one of the apartment houses, but instead it stopped on the north side of -the park. Her aunt lived in a house then. This was also cheering. The -cab driver carried her bag for her up the high steps and she rang the -bell with a fast-beating heart. She didn’t know exactly what she had -expected—perhaps that Aunt Gloria would open the door in person—and she -started back when it was opened by a tall negro who looked as startled -as herself. - -“Is Aunt Gloria—is Miss Mayfield at home?” - -“Are you expected?” - -He spoke in a soft, precise voice unlike the voice of any nigger Ruth -had ever heard before. She knew he must be a servant though he was not -in livery, and she looked at him as she answered, suddenly impressed by -his regular features, his straight hair, and yellow-brown skin. - -“She didn’t know exactly when I’d come, but she knew I was coming. I am -her niece.” - -The servant picked up her bag, which the cab driver had left beside her -and opened the door wider for her to come in. - -“Miss Mayfield is at home. I’ll let her know that you are here if you -will wait a few moments.” - -She was in a wide hall now from which an open staircase rose to rooms -above. The hall was very cheerful with white woodwork and grey walls -hung with etchings in narrow black frames. Uninvited Ruth perched -hesitatingly on the edge of a Chippendale chair and waited. The coloured -man walked to the far end of the hall, opened a door there and called: - -“Amy, come here, you.” - -Amy came, a round, short, black woman of the type most familiar to Ruth. - -To her the man evidently explained the situation, but his soft voice did -not carry to Ruth’s end of the hall; not so the voice of Amy. Ruth could -hear her replies quite plainly. - -“Mis’ Mayfiel’ a’n yit had her breakfus’—I’se jes now makin’ de tray—ef -you sez so I’ll tell her, but dis a’n no hour to be talkin’ to Mis’ -Mayfiel’.” - -Both Amy and the man disappeared through the door and soon Amy emerged -again carrying a breakfast tray. She went past Ruth and up the stairs. -Ruth was growing impatient and rather offended. Of course she should -have sent a wire, but even so, Gloria Mayfield was her aunt and she -should have been taken to her at once. Evidently her aunt ate breakfast -in bed. Perhaps she was an invalid like her mother. Ruth hoped not. -Evidently too she had a lot more money than Ruth had supposed. Her -impatience was not alleviated when Amy came down the stairs again -without speaking to her. It was unbearable that she should sit here in -the hall of her aunt’s house, ignored like a book agent. In another -moment the man had reappeared. - -“Miss Mayfield will see you as soon as she can dress, Miss, and would -you like breakfast in your room or downstairs?” - -He had picked up Ruth’s bag as he spoke. - -“I’ve had breakfast,” said Ruth. She had indeed eaten breakfast in Grand -Central Station. It was only seven o’clock in the morning when she -arrived in New York, and that had seemed rather an early hour for even a -relative to drop into her aunt’s home unexpectedly. - -She followed the servant up the stairs, mentally commenting on how she -hated “educated niggers.” Yet she had to admit there was nothing -disrespectful in his manner. He set her bag down in one of the rooms -opening out of the circular landing and asked for her trunk checks, and -suggested sending Amy up to make her comfortable. She gave him the trunk -checks, refused the offer of Amy’s help, and when he had closed the door -sat down to examine her surroundings and wait for the appearance of her -aunt. - -There had been a certain charm about the entrance hall and stairway of -the house, but the room in which she found herself was as uninteresting -as possible. It was large and high-ceiled and almost empty and streamers -of loosened and discoloured wall paper hung from the walls. It was in -the rear of the house. The few essential pieces of furniture in the room -made it look even larger than it really was. It looked like what it was, -a very much unused bedroom in a house very much too large for its -inhabitants. She walked to the window and looked out, but the view did -not interest her. It was only of the rear of the houses on Twenty-second -Street. The house opposite had a tiny back garden that ran out to meet a -similar back garden in the rear of her aunt’s house. Ruth did not call -this plot of ground a garden, because it had nothing growing in it -except one stunted, twisted tree on the branches of which September had -left a dozen pale green leaves. It made her think of an anæmic slum -child. Looking at it Ruth felt suddenly very sad and neglected. She had -hoped that her aunt would not be too much like a relative, but now she -began to persuade herself that she had looked forward to the embracing -arms of a motherly aunt, and her cold reception had quite broken her -heart. Instead of a fussy, motherly relative she had found a cold, -selfish woman living in a house much too large, surrounded by -servants—Ruth had only seen two but there were probably more. She was -unwelcome; she had been shoved off into the shabbiest room in the house -by an insolent servant. But she was not a pauper. She would tell her -aunt very coldly that she had only come to pay her respects and was -going immediately to an hotel. - -“Oh no, Aunt Gloria; I couldn’t think of imposing on you,” she could -hear herself saying, and of course then her aunt would urge her to stay, -but she wouldn’t. What could her aunt do in such a big house? It was -four floors and a basement. It must be full of shabby, unused rooms like -this one. Just then there was a knock at the door, and she hadn’t even -smoothed her hair or powdered her nose as she had intended doing before -her aunt sent for her. - -“Come in,” she said. Her voice sounded husky and unused. The words were -scarcely out of her mouth when the door opened and a woman swept into -the room—the tallest woman she had ever seen, at least six feet tall and -slender without being thin—a graceful tiger lily of a woman with masses -of auburn hair and big grey, black-lashed eyes and a straight white nose -and a crushed flower of a mouth. With one hand she was holding a -gorgeous, nameless garment of amber silk and lace and the other hand was -held out to Ruth. Even as she took it Ruth realized that it would have -been preposterous to have expected the goddess to kiss her. - -“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting—Ruth,” she said. Her voice was -like silver bells ringing. - -“I should have wired,” admitted Ruth. Her voice sounded flat and -toneless after hearing her aunt speak. - -“It would have been awkward if I hadn’t happened to be in town, but I -was, so it’s all right. You’re older than I thought, I was afraid that -you’d turn out a little girl.” - -“And you’re ever so much younger than I thought, Aunt Gloria,” said -Ruth, beginning to gain her composure. - -“Thirty-five last birthday,” said her aunt. - -Immediately Ruth realized that thirty-five was the only possible age for -a woman. To be older or younger than thirty-five was infinitely dull. -She herself at nineteen, which only a few moments ago she had considered -a very interesting age indeed, was quite hopeless. - -“But come, we mustn’t stay in this awful room. I didn’t tell George just -where to take you. Certainly not here. I’ll have a room fixed up for -you. Did George send for your trunks? He said you’d had breakfast, but -that can’t be true—coffee perhaps, but not breakfast—I only had coffee -myself. So we can eat together while they’re getting a room ready for -you.” She was sweeping Ruth along with her down the stairs as she -talked, not waiting for answers to anything she said. At the foot she -turned and opened a door at the left of the staircase and peered in. - -“Too gloomy in the dining-room in the morning. We’ll go in here,” and -she turned to the other side, opening a door into a big room, all -furnished in soft grey and dull gold. Ruth’s artist eye perceived how -such a neutral-tinted background was just the thing to enhance the -colourful appearance and personality of her aunt. The only touch of -vivid colour in the room was in the hangings at the deep, high windows -that looked out on the park. - -“Have Amy bring our breakfast in here,” said Gloria, and then Ruth saw -that George was standing in the doorway of the room they had just -entered, though she had not heard her aunt call him. Later she observed -the same thing many times, that George always appeared as if by magic -and seemingly without being called whenever her aunt wanted him. - -The room was full of comfortable, low, cushioned chairs, and seated on -two of them with a table between, on which George had laid a white -cloth, Ruth and her aunt Gloria gave each other that full scrutiny which -surprise and embarrassment had previously denied them. - -Ruth could see now that her aunt was not really so young as she had at -first appeared. There were fine lines around her large eyes and art, not -nature had painted her lashes black. Her fine brows had been “formed” -and there were little, pale freckles gleaming on her white nose and -across her long, cleanly moulded hands. Ruth saw all these things and -they only strengthened her belief that Aunt Gloria was the most -beautiful and charming woman in the world. She hoped very much that her -aunt would like her, but she was not sanguine about it. She tried to -tell herself that this woman was only her father’s sister, but it was -hard to believe. - -“Now, tell me all about it,” said Gloria. - -“There’s very little to tell. Mother died on the tenth—your letter -arrived on the same day. Of course it wasn’t unexpected. She had been an -invalid for almost ten years, so it wasn’t a shock. I was the only -relative at the funeral, but Mother had ever so many friends—” - -She paused, wondering if she ought to tell Aunt Gloria about the -flowers, the Eastern Star wreath, and— - -“I don’t mean that,” Gloria interrupted her thoughts. “I mean how your -mother happened to suggest that you come here. You know Jack’s wife -didn’t approve of me—refused to meet me even, and I can’t understand. -Was there some sort of deathbed forgiveness, or what?” - -There was the faintest trace of mockery in her voice, but somehow Ruth -could not be angry, though she knew that this woman, her father’s -sister, was laughing at her dead mother and her dead mother’s -conventions and moralities. She decided that she would be as frank as -her aunt. - -“No, Aunt Gloria, I don’t think Mother’s views had changed at all. She -sent me here because you are my only living relative and she thought I -was too young to live alone—and I came,” she continued bravely, “because -New York is the best place in America to study art and I want to be a -great painter. But if you don’t want me here I’ll live alone—I have -money you know, and Mother intended that I should pay my own way.” - -“I understand,” said Gloria, nodding. “That would be in character—a sort -of blood is stronger than Bohemia idea.” - -“And then,” continued Ruth, determined to be absolutely frank, “I think -Mother was under the impression that you were older than you are, and -had settled down—you have retired from the stage?” - -Again Gloria laughed. - -“My dear child, I’ve done nothing but retire from the stage ever since I -first went on it, but that doesn’t matter. I agree with your mother that -you will be much better off here with me than alone, and I shall be very -glad to have you—it means one more permanent resident in this huge barn -of a house. Only please don’t call me Aunt. Call me Gloria. My being -your aunt is more or less of an accident. The fact that I like you is of -vastly more importance, and if you like me we shall get on very well -together.” - -“I think you’re wonderful,” admitted Ruth, blushing deeply. - -“Very well, then, you shall stay here—you can have two rooms or more if -you want ’em, fixed up to suit yourself, and you can spend your income -on your clothes and your education—but you will be here as my guest, not -as my relative. I dislike relatives inordinately—don’t you?” - -Without giving Ruth time to reply she went on: - -“Have you thought about where you’re going to study?” - -“No; I suppose there are a number of places.” - -“There are, of course; the Art Students’ League is one of the best. The -associations there should be good. You’ll be working with the -strugglers. How old are you?” - -“Nineteen.” - -“Nineteen and the whole world before you, work and failure and success -and New York and Paris and your first love affair—you’re young and you -don’t have to nibble at the loaf; you can take big, hungry bites, and -when the time for nibbling does come, you’ll have a banquet to -remember.” - -“Where is the Art Students’ League?” asked Ruth. - -Her aunt fascinated her; she talked “like a book,” Ruth thought, but -Ruth herself was practical despite her dreaming and the talk of art -schools interested her. - -“Oh, it’s a school with small fees—if you have a lot of talent they give -scholarships—I don’t really know much about it, except that it’s on -Fifty-seventh Street some place, and that it is supposed to be proper -and good. You might try it for a year—then you’ll probably be wanting -Paris. In another year I may feel old enough to chaperon you.” - -After breakfast they went through the house, planning where Ruth should -establish herself, finally deciding on two rooms on the fourth floor, -because one of them had a skylight and could be used as a studio, where -Ruth could work undisturbed. - -The next few days were spent in buying furniture, in having the rooms -redecorated, and in becoming familiar with New York. - -Ruth was determined not to be impressed by anything, a determination -that led Gloria Mayfield to suspect that her niece was of a phlegmatic -temperament, and to wonder why she wanted to be an artist. Only the -quiet sense of humour that Ruth displayed at rare intervals, encouraged -her to believe that having her niece with her might not be a bad -arrangement. - -Ruth on her part discovered that her Aunt Gloria had a wide and varied -circle of friends and no particularly well-defined scheme of existence. -And she discovered a little of Gloria Mayfield’s past, the past that had -been so shrouded in mystery in her mother’s house. It was when Ruth had -made a remark about her aunt living alone in such a large house. - -“Yes, it is large, but what am I to do?” said Gloria. “My second husband -wished it on me and my third was kind enough to settle enough income on -me to pay the taxes, and there you are. Of course I could let it to some -one else, but it’s nice to have a lot of room.” - -Ruth could not disguise her shock and astonishment. - -“Oh, didn’t you know?” asked Gloria, smiling cheerfully. - -“I didn’t know you’d been married at all,” said Ruth. - -“Only once, really—the others were almost too casual. I supposed your -mother had told you.” - -“Did they die?” asked Ruth. - -“Not to my knowledge—I never killed any of them,” said Gloria. - -And Ruth put this conversation away in the back of her brain for future -reference, along with several dozen other things that she didn’t exactly -understand. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -Ruth would have liked a scholarship—not because she could not easily -afford the small fees at the Art Students’ League, but because a -scholarship would have meant that she had unusual talent; but she didn’t -get one. No one seemed particularly interested in her work. The woman -who enrolled her in the League was as casual as a clerk in an hotel. - -The manner of the enrolment clerk and the grandeur of the Fine Arts -Building produced a feeling of insignificance in Ruth that was far from -pleasant. She engaged her locker for the year, and when she was led to -it to put her board and paints away, and saw the rows upon rows of other -lockers, she felt even smaller. Was it possible that all those lockers -were needed? That so many other girls and boys were also art students? -If there was an art student for every locker and each of them shared her -determination to become a great painter, the world would be so flooded -with splendid art that one might better be a stenographer. Then she -comforted herself that all of the students could not possibly succeeded. -Some of them, the girls especially, would doubtless give up art for -marriage and babies. Some of the men would become commercialized, go in -for illustrating or even advertising, but she would go “onward and -upward,” as her instructor in Indianapolis had so thrillingly said. She -felt better after that; and seeing her reflection in a shop window she -felt better still. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was interesting -looking, she told herself. The way she combed her almost black hair down -over her ears Madonna fashion, her little low-heeled shoes, her complete -absence of waist line, all marked her as “different.” - -She had enrolled for the morning class in portrait painting from 9:00 to -12:30 and the afternoon class in life drawing from 1:00 to 4:30 and she -would attend the Friday afternoon lectures on anatomy. They began at -4:30, after the first of November, so she could go direct from her life -class to the lecture. She would have liked to attend some of the evening -classes, too, but Gloria had suggested that she wait a bit. - -“My word, child, it’s all right to work hard. One must work hard, but -don’t spend twenty-four hours a day at it. It’s bad enough to begin at -the unearthly hour of nine in the morning without spending your evenings -there, too.” - -Afterward Ruth was glad that she had not enrolled in any of the evening -classes. She usually returned to the house on Gramercy Square about five -o’clock in the afternoon, just when Gloria’s day seemed to be properly -begun, and there were always people there who interested Ruth, though -she took little part in the conversation. Ruth would come into the hall, -her sketches under her arm, and Gloria would call to her and she would -walk into the big comfortable room and be introduced to half a dozen -people, whose names she seldom remembered. The people would nod to her -and go on with their conversation, and she would sit back listening and -watching, feeling more like an audience at a play than one of the group -of people in a drawing-room. - -Most of the conversation was quite meaningless to her, but there was one -man, one of the few who did not change in the ever-changing group, who -interested her intensely. She gathered that he was a playwright and that -he had written the book and lyrics for a musical comedy that was to have -its New York _première_ soon. One of the other men called him a show -doctor, and said that he had written lines into over half the shows on -Broadway. - -All of the other people seemed to think him “terribly clever,” but Ruth -didn’t understand all of the things at which they laughed. They were -always begging him to sing his latest song, and he never demurred, -though any one could tell with half an ear that he hadn’t any voice at -all. He sang in a queer, half-chanty voice, with a curious appealing -note in it. - -“Do you really like his singing?” she once asked Gloria. - -“His voice, you mean?” Gloria looked at her with the little frown -between her eyes and the amused twist to her mouth that Ruth often -observed when her aunt was explaining things to her. “Of course not; -it’s not his voice, it’s his song. He’s the cleverest song writer in New -York, and he’s already written two fairly successful plays. He’s young, -you know.” - -“Is he? I thought he must be thirty at least.” - -Then Gloria laughed outright. - -“He is about thirty, but that isn’t old. He’s a funny, old dear, don’t -you think so?” - -“Yes,” admitted Ruth. “He dresses oddly—that is—” - -“I know what you mean, but you see a man like Terry Riordan doesn’t have -to keep his trousers pressed. No other man is worth listening to while -Terry is in the room.” - -Ruth decided that she would pay particular attention to Terry Riordan -the next time she met him. - -Her opportunity came the next day. She had gone out to lunch that day -and had been a little late at life class in consequence, and had to -stand up at an easel in the back instead of sitting among the more -fortunate ones in the front rows, where early arrival had usually placed -her. The model was a man—“Krakowski, the wrestler,” one of the girls had -whispered to her. “He’s got a wonderful body; we’re lucky to get him.” - -Ruth could not control a little gasp of admiration when he stepped on -the model throne. He looked like a statue with his shining -smooth-muscled body, and he stood almost as still. It was several -minutes before Ruth could get the proper, impersonal attitude toward -him. Most of the models had quite uninteresting faces, but Krakowski had -a face almost as handsome as his body, and there was a half smile on his -lips as if he were secretly amused at the students. For a second Ruth -saw them through his eyes—thin, earnest-eyed girls, dressed in “arty” -garments, squinting at him over drawing-boards as if the fate of nations -depended on their work, well-dressed dabblers and shabby strugglers -after beauty. She noted again the two old women, the fat one with the -dyed hair, and the ribbons and art jewelry and the thin one whose hair -was quite frankly grey. The fat one had attracted Ruth’s attention the -very first day because in the rest period she ran around insisting that -every one near her should look at her work and offer criticism, and when -the instructor came through she monopolized as much of his time as -possible to his obvious annoyance. - -Why didn’t they think of studying art twenty years ago? Ruth wondered. -It seemed to her that the model was thinking the same thing. Then she -forgot his face and began to block in her sketch. - -The girl next to her had a scholarship, her name was Dorothy Winslow, a -rather pretty, widemouthed girl with a shock of corn-coloured bobbed -hair and very merry blue eyes. Out of the corner of her eye Ruth watched -her work. She had large, beautiful hands and the ends of her slim -fingers were always smudged with charcoal or blotted up with paint. She -wore a painting-smock of purple and green batik. Ruth was tremendously -impressed, but tried not to be. She was torn between a desire to dress -in the same manner and a determination to consider herself superior to -such affectations and remain smug in the consciousness of her -conventional dress. Still she did wonder how she would look with her -hair bobbed. How fast Dorothy Winslow worked. Her pencil seemed so sure. -Never mind, she must not be jealous. - -“Facility? Facility is dangerous—big things aren’t done in a few -minutes—Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she said to herself in the best -manner of her instructor in Indianapolis. One thing that puzzled her was -the way the instructors left the students alone. They were there to -teach, why didn’t they do it? Instead, they passed around about twice a -week and looked at the drawings and said something like “You’re getting -on all right—just keep it up,” or now and then really gave a criticism, -but more often just looked and passed on to the next without a word in -the most tantalizing manner possible. The reticence of the instructors -was amply balanced by the loquacity of the students. They looked at each -other’s work and criticized or praised in the frankest manner possible, -and seemingly without a hint of jealousy or self-consciousness. It was -time to rest. The model left the throne and immediately the students all -left their drawing-boards to talk. - -Dorothy Winslow leaned over Ruth’s shoulder. - -“That’s really awfully nice, the way you’ve got that line,—” she pointed -with one long, slim charcoal-smudged finger. - -“Do you think so? Thank you,” said Ruth. - -“Krakowski’s lovely to work from, anyway. I’d love to paint him. He’s -got such an interesting head.” - -“Yes—it distracted me from my work a little,” admitted Ruth. “Why, -you’ve almost got a finished sketch,” she continued, looking at -Dorothy’s board. - -“I always work fast,” admitted Dorothy, “but I’ll do it all over again a -dozen times before the week is finished.” - -“I wonder how she happened to take up art,” said Ruth, nodding toward -the broad back of the fat lady with the dyed hair. - -“Oh, she’s—she’s just one of the perpetual students—they say she’s been -coming here for ten years—didn’t they have any perpetual students where -you came from? But perhaps this is your first year?” - -“No, I studied a year in the Indianapolis Art School and we didn’t have -any perpetual art students. Is the one with grey hair a perpetual -student, too?” - -“Yes; we had one, a man too, in San Francisco where I came from.” - -“Why do they do it? Isn’t it rather pitiful, or are they rich women with -a fad?” - -“No, indeed, they’re not rich. I never heard of a perpetual student who -was rich. Why, Camille De Muth, the fat one, sometimes has to pose in -the portrait class to earn money to pay for her life.” - -“How does she live?” asked Ruth. - -“Dear Lord, as well ask me why is an art student as how does one -live—how do any of us live, except of course the lucky ones with an -allowance from home?” - -All the time she was talking, Dorothy Winslow was moving her hands, -defying all the laws of physiology by bending her long fingers back over -the tops of them, and by throwing one white thumb out of joint. - -“But you haven’t told me why they do it—why they keep on studying year -after year. Don’t they try to make any use of what they’ve learned?” - -“Not that I ever heard of—they’re just—just art artists. They spend -their lives in class and at exhibitions, but I’ve never tried to -understand them—too busy trying to understand myself.” - -“What do they do when they’re not here?” asked Ruth. - -“They spend their leisure in the cool marble twilight of the -Metropolitan, making bad copies of old masters.” - -The model had reappeared and they went back to their boards, but after -class Ruth found that Dorothy Winslow was walking by her side toward -Fifth Avenue. - -“Do you go downtown?” asked Dorothy. - -“Yes,” admitted Ruth. She was really very much interested in Dorothy, -but she was a bit afraid that the girl would attract attention on the -street. She now had a vivid blue tam with a yellow tassel on her fluffy -hair. - -“How do you go?” - -“On the ’bus,” said Ruth. - -“So do I, when I can afford it; when I can’t I walk, but I guess I can -spend the dime today. I got some fashion work to do last week.” - -“Fashions?” Ruth could not keep the scorn out of her voice. - -“Oh, I know how you feel about that, but one can’t become Whistler or -Sargent all in a day, and paint and Michelet paper and canvas cost -money.” - -“You must be awfully clever to be able to earn money with your work -already,” admitted Ruth, a bit ashamed of herself. - -“I have talent,” admitted Dorothy, “but then so many people have talent. -I’ve got an idea that work counts a whole lot more than talent, but of -course that’s an awfully practical, inartistic idea—only I can’t help -it. I had to come to New York and I couldn’t come without a scholarship, -so I worked and got it. What do you think about it?” - -“Work counts of course, but without the divine spark of genius—one must -have talent and genius, and then work added makes the ideal combination. -Why, if only hard work were necessary, any one, any stevedore or common -labourer or dull bookkeeper, could become a great artist.” - -“That doesn’t sound so silly to me. I really think they could, if the -idea only occurred to them and they didn’t give up. I think any one can -be anything they please, if they only please it long enough.” - -It was like Ruth to answer this with a quotation. - -“I don’t think so,” she said. “‘There is a destiny that shapes our ends, -rough-hew them as we may.’” - -“Perhaps, but some people do a lot more rough-hewing than others, and -I’m going to hew my way to a position as the greatest American portrait -painter, and it won’t be so rough either.” - -Before such blind self-confidence Ruth was dumb. She also intended to be -a great something or other in the world of art, but she had never -thought definitely enough about it to decide just what it would be. She -did think now, or spoke without thinking. - -“Then I’ll be the greatest landscape painter—landscapes with figures.” - -Before they parted at Twentieth Street, Ruth had promised to go to an -exhibition with Dorothy on the following Saturday. - -Gloria had given her a latch key and she went into the house on Gramercy -Square without ringing the bell. She expected to hear her aunt’s voice, -but instead a man’s voice called out: - -“That you, Gloria?” - -She answered by walking into the drawing-room, disappointed at not -finding Gloria there. - -“Where is Gloria?” - -They both said it at once, and then they both laughed. Terry Riordan was -very appealing when he laughed. He had risen at her entrance, and was -standing loose-limbed yet somehow graceful in his formless tweeds. - -“I’ve been waiting at least an hour for her, though it was obvious that -George didn’t want me here. He quite overpowered me with big words and -proper English to explain why he thought my waiting quite uncalled for.” - -“He’s like that, but Gloria is sure to come if you wait long enough,” -said Ruth, sinking wearily into a chair and dropping her sketches beside -her on the floor. - -“Even if she doesn’t I couldn’t find a more comfortable place than this -to loaf. I’m too nervous to be any place else in comfort. The show opens -tonight. It was all right at the tryout in Stamford, but that doesn’t -mean much. I want a cigarette, and George frightened me so that I didn’t -dare ask him where they are.” - -“Frightened? You, Mr. Riordan?” - -“There, you looked like Gloria then. You are relatives, of course, same -name and everything, but I never noticed any resemblance before. Suppose -you must be distant relatives.” - -“Gloria says we must be very distant relatives in order to be close -friends,” said Ruth, dodging the invitation to tell the extent of her -relationship to Gloria. - -“As for the cigarettes, there should be some in the blue Ming jar over -there, or, if you prefer, you can roll your own. There’s tobacco in the -box—Gloria’s own tobacco.” - -“Thanks; I suppose I could have found it myself, but I was actually -afraid to look around—George gave me such a wicked look—he did indeed,” -said Terry. “What a wonderful woman Gloria Mayfield is,” he continued as -he lit a cigarette. - -“I know,” said Ruth. “No wonder she has so many friends.” - -“Every one loves Gloria,” continued Terry. - -“You love her?” asked Ruth. She felt that this man was confiding in her. -She wondered if he had proposed to Gloria and if his suit was hopeless. -She felt sorry for him, but even while she sympathized she could not -keep the three husbands out of her mind. Three husbands were rather -overwhelming, but four! Somehow, it didn’t seem quite right, even for so -amazing a woman as Gloria. - -“I should say I do love Gloria. Why, she lets me read everything I’ve -written and always applauds. That’s one of the things I came for today. -I’ve written that number for Dolly Derwent. Want to hear it?” - -“Yes, please; I’d love to hear it.” - -“Got to tell some one,” said Terry, and without waiting for further -encouragement, he began singing in his queer, plaintive voice, that made -his words sound even more nonsensical than they were, a song the refrain -of which was: - - “_Any judge can recognize - A perfect lady by her eyes, - And they ain’t got nothing, they ain’t got nothing, - They ain’t got nothing on me._” - -“Do you think that’ll get across? You know Dolly Derwent. Don’t you -think that will suit her?” - -Now, Ruth had never seen Dolly Derwent, and looking at Terry Riordan she -suddenly decided to drop pretence. - -“I’ve never seen her,” she admitted, “and while I suppose your songs are -awfully clever and funny, I don’t know anything about the stage and half -the time I don’t know what you’re all talking about. You see I haven’t -been in New York long and I spend most of my time at the Art Students’ -League and I’m afraid I’m not much good as a critic.” - -For a few moments Terry did not answer. He just looked at her, smiling. -His smile diffused a warm glow all round her heart as if he were telling -her that he understood all about her and rather admired her for not -understanding all the stage patter. - -“Suppose you show me your sketches. I don’t know any more about art than -you do about the stage, so then we’ll be even,” he said. - -“There’s nothing here that would interest you—just studies from the life -class.” - -“I say there’s an idea for a number—chorus of art students in smocks and -artists’ caps and a girl with an awfully good figure on a model -throne—no, that’s been used. Still there ought to be some sort of an -original variation of the theme.” He took out his notebook and wrote -something in it. - -“Shall I bring tea, Miss Ruth?” - -George was standing in the doorway, having appeared suddenly from -nowhere. - -“Yes, thank you, George—” - -“Perhaps if we go on just as if we weren’t waiting for Gloria, she’ll -come.” - -“I’d forgotten that we were waiting for her,” said Terry. “Do you know, -I think that nigger is jealous of me—you know, as dogs are sometimes -jealous of their mistress’ friends—and he’s only being civil now because -I’m talking to you instead of Gloria. Some day he’s going to put -something in my high ball.” - -“What a terrible thing to say,” said Ruth. “I’m sure George is perfectly -harmless. It’s only that he doesn’t talk like other niggers.” - -“Don’t call him a nigger!” exclaimed Terry, pretending to be shocked. -“Hasn’t Gloria told you that he is a Hindoo—half-caste I imagine, and he -came from some weird place, and I heartily wish he’d return to it.” - -A Hindoo—that explained George’s appearance, but it made him more -puzzling as a servant than before. He was not like the imaginations of -Hindoos that her reading had built up, but perhaps as Terry said he was -a half-caste. Terry’s words, for the moment, surprised her out of -speech. - -“Here’s Gloria now,” he said. “We must stop talking treason. She thinks -she has the best servants in the world.” - -Gloria came in, filling the room with cold outer air mingled with the -odour of the violets pinned on her sables. - -“Just look who’s here,” she said, holding a small, plump, frizzled, -blond woman of about forty in front of her. “Billie Irwin—she came over -from London with the unfortunate ‘Love at First Sight’ company, and here -she is with no more engagement than a trapeze performer with a broken -leg—you know her, don’t you, Terry?—well, anyway you know her now, and -this is Ruth Mayfield—not in the profession, an artist of a different -kind.” - -“How interesting!” murmured Billie Irwin. - -“Tea? Take it away, George—we don’t want tea. I want dinner just as soon -as Amy can get it. We’re all going to see the opening of ‘Three Merry -Men.’ You thought I was going to fail you, didn’t you, Terry? But we’re -not, we’ll all be there. And, George, do get a room ready for Miss -Irwin. She’s going to stay for a few days with me.” - -“She means a few months,” whispered Terry to Ruth, thereby establishing -between them a secret confidence. - -That night Ruth got a new impression of Terry Riordan. He did not stay -to dinner, though Gloria asked him, but he met them at the theatre. -Every one seemed to know him and treated him as quite an important -person. It was her first experience of a first night, and she got the -impression that these people were waiting through the acts for the -intermissions instead of waiting through the intermissions for the acts. -Terry wasn’t in their box, he had a seat in the back of the theatre with -Philip Noel, who had written the music, but he slipped in and out during -the evening to chat and to hear words of praise. - -“How do you think it’s going to go?” Gloria asked him when he returned -to their box after the first intermission. - -“Badly, I’m afraid; I met several of the newspaper men out there, and -they seemed to like it. If the critics like it, it’s almost sure to -close in three weeks,” said Terry. - -“I won’t believe it. It is sure to have a long run,” said Gloria. - -“God knows I did my best to lower the moral tone of the thing and make -it successful,” said Terry. “If it will only run long enough to give me -some royalties, just long enough to keep me going until my comedy is -finished, I won’t care.” - -They chatted on, commenting on the people on the stage until Ruth lost -all sense of illusion. They took away from her the fairyland sense that -had formerly made the theatre a joy, and as yet she had not acquired the -knowledge of stagecraft that gives the stage a stronger fascination for -theatrical folk than for the people who have never seen it in any way -except from “out front.” - -She knew that the music was all stolen from something else, for a -composer, a rival of Philip Noel, who had dropped in to chat with -Gloria, had said so; that in an effort to do something original the -costumer had produced frightful results, for Terry Riordan had commented -on it, and Billie Irwin had spoken of how often the leading woman -flatted her notes. Her voice had been bad enough when she started ten -years ago, and now it was quite hopeless. - -Terry Riordan had not spoken to Ruth since their arrival, when he had -pretended to be quite overcome with the grandeur of her gown. Since then -he had devoted himself entirely to Gloria. Ruth couldn’t blame him for -that. Gloria made every one else appear colourless. No wonder Terry -Riordan loved her. It was foolish of her to let him occupy her thoughts. -No man in his right mind would give her a second thought in the presence -of Gloria. Even the thought that she was an art student no longer -brought comfort. There were so many art students in New York. Still she -could not keep Terry out of her mind. It was not that she thought him a -genius. Indeed, she rather scorned his slapstick lyrics. New York might -bow down before his frayed cuff cleverness, but she was from the Middle -West, where men are rated by what they have done, not what they are -going to do. She couldn’t analyse exactly what it was about Terry -Riordan that stirred her emotions,—some sympathetic quality in his voice -perhaps, his never-failing cheerfulness and his absolute confidence in -his own future. She was rather glad that he didn’t talk to her very -much, for she blushed whenever he spoke to her. She had blushed when he -spoke about her frock and old John Courtney had commented on it in his -absurd exaggerated manner. - -“How charmingly you blush, Miss Mayfield,” he had said. “You must pardon -an old gentleman for speaking of it, my dear, but I dare say it is the -only genuine blush that Broadway has seen these forty years.” - -If it had been possible to be annoyed by anything the ancient matinée -idol said, Ruth would have been annoyed, especially as it momentarily -attracted the attention of every one to the party, to herself. - -John Courtney was another of Gloria’s admirers. - -“The best actress in New York,” he whispered to Ruth. “But she hasn’t -had an engagement for three years. She won’t take anything but leads, -and there isn’t a man who dares play opposite her. It’s not alone that -she’s so tall—though no man likes to play opposite a woman from one to -five inches taller than he—it’s her personality. She fills the stage. -The other players are just so much background.” - -Later even John Courtney seemed to forget the existence of Ruth, and she -sat back in the crowded box in the crowded theatre quite alone. She -could not even watch the stage—for they had reduced the people on it to -a group of ordinary individuals working at their trade. She had a little -sketch pad and a pencil with her and began making caricatures of the -principals. She became absorbed in this and forgot to feel alone. - -“That nose is wonderful and that’s just her trick with her hands. I -didn’t know you were a cartoonist.” - -It was Terry Riordan looking over her shoulder. She had not known he was -in the box. - -“I’m not a cartoonist,” she said, making an effort to hide her sketch -pad. “I was only doing it for fun.” - -“But they’re great; let me see the others. I had no idea you were so -talented. I thought you just daubed around with paint.” - -From any one else the words would have been cruel enough, but from Terry -Riordan they were almost unbearable. She could hardly keep the tears -back. - -“That isn’t talent,” she managed to articulate. “It’s just facility. I -am studying painting—I never do this sort of thing seriously—I was just -playing.” - -He had taken the sketches from her and was looking at her in puzzled -wonder. - -“Do you mean to say you don’t want to do this sort of thing—that you -consider it beneath your talent?” - -“It doesn’t interest me.” She spoke with as much dignity as she could -muster. For a moment he looked troubled, then his irresistible smile -came. - -“Never mind, I understand,” he said. “Ten years ago I intended to be a -modern Shakespeare—and just see the awful end to which I’ve come.” - -Just then the curtain went up, and she did not notice that he had not -returned her sketches. - -Up to this time Gloria had been the gayest person there—so gay that Ruth -thought that she had forgotten her existence. She was in the chair in -front of Ruth, and had apparently been absorbed in the play and the -conversation of the people with her. Suddenly she rose and left the box, -pausing just long enough to whisper in Ruth’s ear, “I’m going home; -Billie will explain.” - -The others in the box didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps they thought Gloria -had gone back stage to see some friend and would return. It was only -when the final curtain fell and Terry came back to ask them to go to -supper that her absence was explained. - -“Where’s Gloria?” he asked. - -“Gone home,” said Billie. “She asked me to explain to you that she had -to go.” - -“But why?” asked Terry. - -“Because she wanted to—you know Gloria—sudden fit of depression, because -she isn’t working and wants to work. Why don’t you write a play for her, -Terry?” - -“I will one day perhaps—if I can, but I so wanted her tonight. Let’s -follow her home and drag her out again.” - -“Not if you value her friendship,” said Billie. “Aren’t there enough of -us here to make a supper party?” She smiled coyly at him, shrugging her -plump shoulders and turning her pale eyes at him in an ingénue ogle. - -“Of course—we’ll try to be as merry as possible without her.” - -“I think if you’ll help me find a cab I’ll go home to Gloria,” said -Ruth. - -“You too?” Terry looked at her reproachfully. - -“I’d rather if you don’t mind.” - -“We can’t allow you to go alone. I shall be most happy,” said John -Courtney. - -“No indeed. I know that you don’t want to miss a word of what they say -about Terry’s play, and I’d rather go alone. The others would never -forgive me for taking you away.” - -After that it was easy for her to slip away into the darkness and -seclusion of a cab, alone with the thousands in the checked -thoroughfare. She wanted to get away from Terry Riordan and his success. -She thought she was escaping for the same reason that Gloria had run -away, but Gloria could not be as unhappy as she, for Gloria had had her -success. Terry Riordan knew that Gloria was a great actress, but he -didn’t know that she, Ruth Mayfield, was a great painter, at least a -potential great painter. He had suggested that she was a cartoonist and -he had thought that he was paying her a compliment. Years from now, when -she became a beautiful, fascinating woman of thirty like Gloria, even in -imagination she couldn’t make herself quite thirty-five—they would meet -again. It would be at a private view at the Academy, and he would be -standing lost in wonder before the picture she would have hung there. -Every one would be talking about her and her work, and then they would -meet face to face. There would be no condescension in his words and -smile then— - -She was imagining childish nonsense. By the time she had won her -success, Terry would be married to Gloria. It was easy to see that he -loved Gloria. Why not? No one could be so beautiful or so charming as -Gloria. It was silly to dream of Terry Riordan’s love, but she would win -his admiration and respect. After all, marriage had never held any place -in her plans. She didn’t want to marry. She wanted to be a great -painter. One must make some sacrifices for that. The cab turned into the -great quiet of Gramercy Square. A soft mist hung over the trees, like -quiet tears of renunciation. - -She was startled to see lights gleaming in all the lower windows of the -house. Inside she found George sitting on the lower step of the stairs. -He rose as she entered, but did not respond when she spoke to him. The -doors into the drawing-room were open and she looked in. Lying face down -on the floor, still fully dressed, was Gloria and scattered around her -were the violets from the bouquet she had been wearing. She was quite -motionless, and Ruth dared not speak to her. Evidently George was -keeping watch. - -“Can I do anything?” she whispered to him. - -He shook his head and pointed silently up the stairs. She went, hurrying -up the three flights as if the act of going up lifted her above her own -discontent and above the unhappiness of Gloria. She went into the studio -and looked at the canvas on which she had been working. It was hard to -wait until morning to begin on it again. It had been a week since she -had touched it. When she began she had intended rising early to get an -hour’s work before breakfast, but evenings in the company of Gloria and -her friends had kept her up late and youth claimed its need of rest -despite her firmest resolves. It was no good, the picture, anyway. She -would paint it all out and begin over again. She would spend her Sundays -in the country with the other art students, sketching. She had not -entered into the student life enough. And she had entered into Gloria’s -life too much. If she had been taking her work more seriously she would -not have had time to fall in love with Terry Riordan. She did not -question that it was love that had come into her life to complicate -things. In Indianapolis it had all seemed so simple. There were paint -and canvas and her hands to work with, and she would study and work and -exhibit and become famous. Now it was made plain to her that art itself -was not a matter of paint and canvas and exhibitions, or even of work as -Dorothy Winslow had said, but a matter of men and women, and competition -and struggle and love and hate and jealousy and thwarted ambitions like -those of the woman who lay down there prostrate with defeat. The defeat -that was such a tragic jest—a great talent useless because the actress -was too tall. If success was dependent on such things as that of what -use to struggle and work? Crouched on the floor before her canvas she -looked up through the skylight at a star, and soft tears moved slowly -down her cheeks, tears for herself and for Gloria and for all the -unfruitful love and labour in the world. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -Ever since her conversation with Dorothy Winslow, Ruth had wondered -whether it would not be better if she had taken painting and composition -instead of portrait painting in the morning. But she didn’t like to give -up the portrait painting and she knew that if she suggested attending -one of the evening classes Gloria would object that she was working too -hard. Of course she was her own mistress, but it wasn’t pleasant to meet -with opposition nevertheless. - -She spoke to Dorothy about it. - -“You can’t get everything in a year, and it all counts. I don’t think -one can tell exactly what one’s forte is until one has studied for some -time. Better keep on as you are. Certainly don’t give up the portrait -class. Bridgelow is wonderful,” Dorothy had assured her, “and you may -not get a chance to study under him again.” - -It seemed to Ruth that she was living a sort of double life, her hours -among the art students were so separate from her life with the people at -the house on Gramercy Square. And in a way she was not actually a part -of either life. Among the students she felt a certain reticence, because -they were most of them, at least the ones she had met, very obviously -poor. They were paying their own way by working at things far removed -from art. One of the girls painted stereopticon slides for illustrated -songs, and some of the boys worked at night as waiters. They lived in -studios and cooked their own meals, and Ruth was ashamed to let them -know exactly where or how she lived. She heard their chatter of parties -to which she had not been invited, and she could not control the feeling -that she was inferior to these people because she had an assured income. - -The morning following the opening of Terry Riordan’s play Ruth had left -the house without seeing Gloria, and the thought of her aunt as she had -last seen her, was with her all morning. In the brief time between -classes she was glad to join the group of students who always hurried to -a little restaurant on Eighth Avenue for a bite of lunch, or a “bolt of -lunch” as Nels Zord called it. Nels was a Norwegian, possibly -twenty-five years old who spent every other year studying. He was -supposed to have a great amount of talent and he sometimes sold -things—seascapes mostly, small canvases of a delicacy that seemed -incredible in view of his huge, thick hands. When he was not in New -York, he went on long voyages as a sailor before the mast, where he -satisfied his muscles with hard work and his soul with adventure and -gathered material to be painted from half finished sketches and from -memory when he returned to New York. He had gone to sea first as a boy -of fifteen, from his home in Seattle and always chose sailing vessels -from preference. He had two passions, art and food, and had never yet -been known to give a girl anything but the most comradely attentions, -which was, perhaps, why he was so much sought after by them. - -Ruth, Dorothy, and Nels walked together to the lunch room. All of the -students were talking about the water colour show that was to open at -the Academy the following Tuesday. On Monday evening there was to be a -private view, and Nels Zord, by virtue of being an exhibitor was one of -the few students who would be admitted. He was permitted one guest and -had surprised every one by inviting Dorothy Winslow. She told the news -to Ruth as they walked along. - -“I didn’t,” said Nels with what seemed to Ruth unnecessary rudeness. -“You invited yourself, and I hadn’t asked any one else. Might as well -take you as any one.” - -“Far be it from me to care how I get there,” said Dorothy with perfect -good nature. “It’s a shame that Ruth can’t go too. You’ve never been to -a private view at a big show like this, have you?” - -“No, and I’d love to go, but I suppose there’s no chance.” - -“I’ll tell you what; I think I know how you can get it,” said Nels. “I -know a chap, old fellow, one of the patrons. He always goes and he’s -always alone. I don’t see why he wouldn’t take you—he’s not one of those -old birds who goes in for young girls—not old enough I guess—and you’re -quiet looking and everything. You know he ought to be proud to take -you,” he ended up in what was for him a burst of enthusiasm, but Ruth -was rather inclined to be offended. - -“Really, I’d much rather not go than to go in that way—” she began -explaining. - -“Now don’t be foolish,” interrupted Dorothy. “You know that any one of -us will go in any way possible. It doesn’t matter how we get there so -long as we do get there. At the private view we’ll have a chance to -really see the pictures and to hear the criticisms of the people whose -opinion counts. Do be sensible and come with us.” - -“Of course I want to go, just as all of us do,” admitted Ruth, “but not -badly enough to go as the unwelcome guest of a man I’ve never met.” - -“You don’t understand,” said Nels. “He won’t be taking you there, -exactly. It’s just this way. He’s allowed one guest, I’ve never known -him to bring one. Some one might just as well use that guest card. He’s -a friend of mine and I’ll ask him for it. If it’s necessary for him to -appear with you, we can all meet at the Academy. By the way, a private -view is awfully dressy—have you got evening things?” - -Ruth wasn’t surprised at the question. She knew that lots of the -students considered themselves lucky to possess one costume suitable for -the street. She knew two girls who shared a studio and one evening gown -together. They wore the gown turn about, and couldn’t both accept an -invitation to the same party. Knowing these things she nodded without -comment. - -“Of course, she has everything,” explained Dorothy. - -“Well, I haven’t you know—always put on my Latin quartier clothes, -things I never dared wear in Paris, but they go big enough here, -especially when worn by an exhibitor,” said Nels. - -“I don’t know what I shall wear—probably borrow a frock from some one.” - -“Would you—do you think you could wear one of mine?” asked Ruth -hesitatingly. - -“D’you mean to say you’ve got two?” asked Dorothy with mock amazement. - -“If you think it can be arranged without too much trouble, I would like -to go,” admitted Ruth. - -“Simplest thing in the world,” said Nels who was rather proud of his -influential friend. - -The conversation about the water colour show drove thoughts of Gloria -out of Ruth’s mind until she started homeward from the League. She -wondered how Gloria would look, whether she would dare speak of the -happening of the night before, whether Gloria would be shut in her own -room and refuse to see her. - -Gloria’s voice called joyously to her as she opened the door. She was -standing in the midst of innumerable garments, frocks, hats, shoes, -lingerie, gloves, all in a state of wild confusion, while George dragged -huge trunks into the few empty spaces on the floor, and Amy stood by, -trying to fold and classify garments as Gloria threw them about. - -“I’m going to Palm Beach—want to come along?” she called cheerfully. - -“I can’t very well leave school, Gloria, but if you want to close the -house I can go to an hotel for a few weeks. How long are you going to be -gone—when are you going?” - -“I don’t know. I just know I’ve got to get away for a while. I hate New -York. I’m going as soon as I can get packed, but there’s no reason for -closing the house. You’re here and Billie will be here at least until -she gets an engagement, and I’ll leave George and Amy. I just thought if -you wanted to come you might.” - -“Of course I’d love to go; I’ve never been to Florida, but I can’t leave -school just now. Can I help?” - -“Dive in; the sooner the trunks are packed the sooner I go.” - -“Have you bought a ticket and made reservations?” asked Ruth -practically. - -“Time enough for that later. I can’t go today anyway you know. I just -thought of it an hour ago.” - -“If Miss Mayfield will pardon a suggestion from me,” said George, “I -would suggest that Palm Beach will be very dull just now—It is too early -for the season to have begun and the hotels will be quite deserted.” - -“That’s just why I’m going—I’m fed up with people,” said Gloria, and -George subsided into sullen silence. - -One of the few things about Gloria that Ruth did not quite like was her -treatment of her servants. She was quite as apt to ask the advice of -George or Amy as one of her friends, and in consequence they often -offered it unsolicited. With Amy this course was all right. She would -storm and scold in true Southern negro fashion and take the resulting -scolding in good part, but if Gloria reprimanded George he would retire -sullenly to the lower regions of the house and pack his luggage and then -appear with great dignity to offer his resignation. Whereupon Gloria -would beg him to stay and he would consent to do so with apparent -reluctance. Once Ruth had seen her put her hand on his arm with a -familiar gesture while she pleaded with him to stay. The sight sent a -cold shudder over her. To Ruth there was something sinister and -repulsive about George, and she was almost sure that her feeling of -distrust and dislike was fully returned. - -He went out now in answer to the ringing door bell, and returned with -Terry Riordan, who stood looking in with wide, questioning eyes. Ruth -watched his face intently, keen to see whether he would show regret at -Gloria’s going away. - -“Glad I got here in time to say good-bye,” he said, smiling. “Who’s -going away?” - -“I thought George told you over the ’phone that I couldn’t see any one -today,” said Gloria. “I’m packing to go to Palm Beach, and now that -you’ve satisfied your curiosity, perhaps you’ll run along.” - -“Not at all; I’m going to stay to argue with you. In the first place why -go away and in the second why go to Palm Beach when there are so many -interesting places to go?” - -“I’m going away because I’m tired of playwrights and actors and -actresses, and Fifth Avenue and Broadway, and if you have any better -place than Palm Beach to suggest, I will be very glad to go there—only -don’t say the North Pole, for I’ve been packing summer clothing and -don’t want to do it all over again.” - -“Can’t you say anything to her?” he asked, smiling at Ruth. - -She shook her head, answering him with her eyes and again she had the -feeling of a secret understanding between herself and Terry. - -“Haven’t you any control over this house, George?” he asked perching on -top of one of the trunks and lighting a cigarette. - -George made no answer, but Amy grinned her delight. With her mistress -gone George would assume more upper servant airs than ever and she would -have no court of justice to which she could refer in time of domestic -strife. - -“Please get off that trunk, Terry; there are chairs to sit on,” said -Gloria, drawing the red flower of her lip under her white teeth. - -“How can I sit on a chair when there are hats and boots on every one?” - -“Here, I’ll clear one for you,” said Gloria, and sent a hat sailing -across the room. - -Ruth would never dare throw a hat across the room, no matter how much -she felt like it. She watched Gloria in a perfect passion of admiration -that half drowned the sharp pain in her heart because she knew that -Terry also saw Gloria’s beauty and felt the charm of her. - -“If you really must go away, and I can understand that too, for I’d like -to get away myself, why not take a sea voyage—that’s the real thing in -rest cures. Go to San Francisco by rail and then take one of those boats -that run to Hawaii and Samoa and on to Sydney if you don’t want to stop -at Samoa. Let me see, five days to San Francisco, eighteen days to -Sydney, not counting a long stopover in Hawaii and Samoa, and by the -time you return I’ll have a comedy written for you,—a comedy in which -the entire plot rests on the heroine’s being not less than six feet -tall—” - -“Don’t tease me, Terry—it isn’t fair—you’ve been writing that comedy for -three years now—if you only would write it I wouldn’t care even if I had -to play opposite a giant from a circus—” - -She was near tears, so near that Ruth could hardly restrain an impulse -to go to her and throw her arms about her, when Terry evidently with the -same impulse went to her and did throw one arm about her shoulders. Ruth -saw now that they were exactly the same height. - -“My dear girl, I’m not teasing. The comedy is half finished now, only I -wanted to keep it for a surprise, and you won’t play opposite a circus -giant. If necessary I’ll play opposite you myself and wear French -heels.” - -“Don’t believe him, Ruth,” said Gloria, smiling now. “He’s always -promising to write a comedy for me, but he doesn’t mean it.” - -“Wait and see,” said Terry. “You do believe me, don’t you Ruth?” - -But Ruth, gazing hopelessly on the splendid beauty of her aunt, and -seeing Terry’s arm across her shoulder could not answer. - -“I’ll give you four weeks more to make good, Terry,” said Gloria. “Clear -all the junk away, George; I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going away for -a while.” - -Terry Riordan forebore to laugh, but his eyes again sought Ruth’s in -secret understanding. - -“I think I’ll go up and work a while before dinner,” she said. It was -better to leave them alone, and she must work! she must work! she must -work! - -Pursuant to her conversation with Dorothy Winslow in which she had -announced her intention of painting landscapes with figures, Ruth had -begun a new canvas—a corner of the park with two children playing under -the trees. She had been trying to get an effect of sunlight falling -through green leaves. It was badly done. She could see that now. -Besides, she didn’t want to paint children. She painted them out with -great sweeps of her brush. They were stiff, horrid, complacent little -creatures. Instead she would have only one figure, a shabby, old woman -crouching on a park bench, and she would take out the sunlight too. A -thin mist of rain would be falling and the sky would be murky with a -faint, coppery glow where the sun sought to penetrate through the -clouds, but the chief interest of the picture would centre about the -figure of the old woman, holding her tattered cloak about her under the -uncertain shelter of the trees. - -If only she had the colour sense of Nels Zord—she would get it in time. -It was only a question of more work and more work. Would Terry Riordan -really play opposite Gloria in the new comedy? The play was the task -that Gloria had set him and when it was produced Terry could claim his -reward. She would go to the wedding and no one would ever guess that her -heart was broken. Afterward she would live in retirement and paint; or -perhaps she would travel and one day be thirty-five years old and -beautiful with a strange, sad beauty and men would love her, but she -would refuse them all ever so gently. - -She worked steadily for almost an hour and then she began to wonder -whether Amy would have a very good dinner and how many would be there. -Perhaps Terry Riordan would stay. And she decided to put on a new dinner -frock that she had bought and wondered if she could dress her hair as -Gloria did, and tried it, but found it unsuccessful and reverted to her -own simple coiffure. - -When she went down she found that Terry had indeed stayed for dinner and -Gloria had changed to a gorgeous gown and Billie Irwin, who had come in -late from the hair-dresser’s, had acquired a splendid aureole of golden -hair in place of the streaked blond of yesterday, and Philip Noel was -trying out some new music and they had all promised to stay to dinner -and afterward there was a play that they simply must see, at least the -second act. There was really nothing worth listening to after the second -act, and all conversation about going away or about the new comedy -seemed to be forgotten. - -“You’ll have a surprise on Sunday morning,” Terry told her. - -“What kind of a surprise?” asked Ruth. - -“Can’t tell now; it’s a secret. Gloria knows, though.” - -“It’s a very nice surprise,” said Gloria. - -Ruth glanced quickly from one to the other. Perhaps they were going to -be married and would announce the fact on Sunday. - -“Can’t I guess?” she asked, trying to imitate their gay mood. - -“No! you’d never guess,” said Gloria, “but it’s really a wonderful -surprise. Only you mustn’t ask questions—you’ll find out at breakfast -Sunday morning and not a moment sooner.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -Sunday breakfast was a ceremony at the house on Gramercy Square. Then -Gloria broke away from her rule of breakfast in bed, and clad in the -most alluring of French negligées, she presided at the coffee urn in the -big dining-room, while around her were ranged friends expected and -unexpected in harmonious Sunday comfort. There was a delightful -untidiness about the entire room that was particularly cheering—ash -trays with half-smoked cigarettes on the white cloth and Sunday -newspapers scattered at random by casual hands. Conversation for the -first half hour was confined to nods and sleepy smiles, but when the -second cup of coffee had been poured people really began to talk. There -was always, when the weather permitted, a fire in the grate, and after -breakfast there was an hour of intimate chat in which all the stage -gossip of the season was told and analysed, and careers were made and -unmade. - -Breakfast was at eleven o’clock, but Ruth had been up for hours, working -away in her studio at the top of the house. At eleven she came down, for -George was intolerant of late comers. Gloria, Billie Irwin, Terry -Riordan, and John Courtney were already there. They raised their heads -from their newspapers and greeted her with smiles, for Gloria considered -it the worst taste possible for any one to speak before she had had her -first cup of coffee, and particularly she disliked “Good morning” spoken -in a cheery tone. - -“There is no such thing as a good morning,” she always averred. “Morning -is never good, except for sleep.” - -At the moment that Ruth entered George placed the coffee urn on the -table and Gloria proceeded to pour the cups, looking very lovely with -the dusk of sleep still in her eyes. - -Ruth thought it very odd to be at a table with four other people none of -whom spoke a word. No one else seemed to mind, they all devoted -themselves to their breakfast with the same earnestness that a few -moments before had been bestowed on the Sunday newspapers. - -“Now, Terry, you can give Ruth her surprise,” said Gloria presently. - -Ruth had almost forgotten but now she remembered, seeing them all look -at her beamingly, as if she had done something very nice. - -Terry reached down to the floor and picked up a section of newspaper. It -was the theatrical section, Ruth saw, even before he handed it to her, -and then, that it contained a story about “Three Merry Men,” with a -photograph of the leading woman and grouped around it the sketches that -Ruth had made caricaturing the players. The sketches had not been signed -but under them was a printed caption, “Sketched by Ruth Mayfield.” She -stared at the page for some moments, realizing that they were all -looking at her and expecting some sort of an outburst. Finally when she -sat silent, Billie Irwin, less sensitive than the others, spoke: - -“Isn’t it wonderful, Ruth—we’re all so proud and glad for you—to think -of seeing your work reproduced, and you’ve only been in New York a few -weeks.” She put her plump hand on Ruth’s shoulder with an impulsive -gesture. - -Ruth restrained an impulse to throw it off. She still kept her head -bent, instinctively hiding her eyes until she should gain control of -their expression. She realized that every one there thought that Terry -had done a fine thing in getting the sketches printed, that Terry -himself thought he had done a nice thing. It would be impossible to -explain to these people that she considered such work beneath her—that -she, the future great painter, did not want to dabble in cartooning. But -to them she was only an obscure art student. She must say something -soon—her silence was past the limit of surprise. - -“How good of you, Mr. Riordan,” she said at last. “I had no idea that -you were going to do this when you took my sketches. It’s quite -wonderful to see them—to see them in a newspaper like this—” - -“My word,” laughed Terry, “I believe that Ruth doesn’t really like it at -all, though I meant well, I did indeed, child, and though you don’t know -it, cartooning is quite as much art as painting, and quite as difficult -if one had not the particular genius for it. I gave the sketches to the -_Sun_ critic and he was quite enthusiastic. I dare say you might get a -chance to do it right along if you wanted to.” - -“Ruth is an ungrateful little wretch if she isn’t both pleased and -proud,” said Gloria, smiling fondly at Ruth. - -“I am pleased and grateful,” protested Ruth, “but I don’t want to be a -cartoonist, not until I’m quite sure that I can never be a painter.” - -“Better far be a clever cartoonist than a bad painter,” said John -Courtney, “though I understand just how you feel. As a young man, when I -first entered the profession I wanted to be a great comedian—I still -think I could have been one, for I have a keen sense of humour, but it -was not to be, I was, you will pardon me for speaking of it, I was too -handsome—my appearance forced me to be a romantic hero—” - -He passed one white hand over his grey, curled hair, as he spoke, with a -gesture as one who should say, “you can see that I am still handsome and -can judge for yourselves of my youth.” - -“Your fatal beauty was your ruin,” said Gloria. - -He smiled good-naturedly. - -“No, not my ruin, I have done very well, but I did want to be a great -comedian, and I’ve never seen a comedian who did not secretly long for -tragic rôles, but ‘there is a destiny that shapes our ends—’ What is -that quotation?” - -“‘Rough-hew them as we will,’” Ruth finished for him. “I quoted that -myself to a girl last week and she answered me by saying that she -intended to do a lot of rough-hewing.” - -“Still, even if you do want to paint I think you ought to follow this -newspaper thing up,” said Billie Irwin who was a bit vague as to the -trend of the conversation. “Your name is in quite large type and nothing -counts like keeping one’s name before the public. If only I had not been -so retiring when I first started!” - -Just here George came in with a letter which he laid beside Ruth’s -plate. - -“It just came by hand,” he explained. - -Ruth lost no time in opening the large, square envelope, addressed in a -precise, old-fashioned, masculine hand. - -Inside was a square engraved card of admission to the private view of -the water colour show at the Academy on Monday evening. With it was -another card with the name Professor Percival Pendragon engraved on it, -and the words “compliments of” written above. - -“Oh, isn’t this splendid!” she exclaimed, passing the contents of the -envelope to Gloria. “You know all of the students are crazy to go to the -private view tomorrow night, but it’s awfully exclusive and only the -members of the Academy and the exhibitors have cards, but each one is -permitted one guest. Nels Zord, one of the student exhibitors is taking -Dorothy Winslow and he’s asked this man, a friend and patron of his, to -send me his guest card. Hasn’t he got a queer name? You know I’ve never -met him at all. He must be really fond of Nels—quite an old chap I -suppose and perhaps I’ll meet him at—” - -Just then Ruth was stopped by the expression on Gloria’s face. She was -holding the card away from her as if it were something dangerous and her -face had grown quite pale, her big, blue eyes staring out with an -expression that Ruth could not analyse. - -“What is it—are you ill?” In her fright Ruth has risen from her place at -the table and moved to Gloria’s side. - -Gloria waved her away with a movement of her arm, and seeming to recover -a part of her composure began to smile. - -“It’s nothing at all, Ruth,” she said. “I was just startled for a -moment—you see Professor Percival Pendragon is—was, my husband.” - -Ruth sank back into her chair. - -“Then I suppose—perhaps you’d prefer—I can send the card back to him and -tell that I am unable to use it.” - -“Not at all,” said Gloria, twisting her round, red mouth in the -whimsical way she had. “If you haven’t met him he doesn’t know that you -are a relative of mine and you needn’t tell. Besides he’s an awfully -good sort really. I always did like Percy. I didn’t know he was in -America. The last I knew he was in Oxford, associated with the -observatory there. He’ll probably talk to you about the great star map.” - -“The great star map?” questioned Terry. - -“Oh, I don’t know what the thing really is,” said Gloria. “Something -that the astronomers are working on now. It takes about twenty years to -make one, but it’s no particular use to them after it’s finished. They -just make it with great work—but that’s merely a rehearsal. Their -children make another one, which I suppose is the dress rehearsal; and -their grandchildren make a third, which is I suppose the _première_. -Then they compare their map with the one made by their parents and -grandparents and by some process discover that the planets have moved. -They have a wild hope that they may discover where the planets have -moved and why, but if that doesn’t materialize the great-grandchildren’s -children make a new star map, devoting their entire lives to it, and -some time, two thousand years from now, perhaps, some grey-whiskered old -man some place will know something exact about the stars, or will not -know something exact about the stars, as the case may be.” - -Every one except Ruth laughed at this description. She felt that these -people with all their years must be in some ways younger than herself. - -“They are working for posterity,” she said reprovingly. “All great art -and science is like that.” - -“Yes, but you mustn’t expect player folk to appreciate anything but the -transitory in art,” said John Courtney. “It is the tragedy of the -profession that the art of every one of us dies with us. The tones of -Gloria’s marvellous speaking voice will not be heard by our descendants. -Booth is nothing but a memory in spite of his statue out there in the -park. It is the life of a butterfly.” - -Courtney had used his deepest emotional voice in speaking, and despite -custom and knowledge of his many harmless affectations, Billie Irwin -shuddered and looked pained. - -“Butterflies are very beautiful at least,” said Terry, reflecting in his -face the concern that Ruth also felt as she noted that Gloria was still -looking quite pale, with a strained expression in her eyes as if she -were seeing things far removed from the breakfast room. She determined -to again ask her aunt if it would not be better to give up the private -view, as soon as she had an opportunity to speak with her alone. - -The opportunity did not come until late that afternoon, and then Gloria -shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner and laughed at Ruth. - -“Certainly not, foolish child. He doesn’t know that you live with me. I -doubt if he even knows that I am alive. I’ve been off the stage so long -and besides he never goes to the theatre. This art thing must be a new -fad with him. Still he must have noticed the name. Even Percy can -scarcely have forgotten my last name. Only don’t tell him about me. -Don’t let him know that you are a relative, and don’t let him come to -the house.” - -“The others are coming—Dorothy and Nels. I’m going to lend Dorothy a -gown.” - -“Do they know anything about me?” asked Gloria. - -“No; you see I’ve been afraid to tell them just how happily I am -situated. They are all so poor and I’ve been afraid that they’d not take -me seriously if I told them that I have never been hungry or afraid of a -landlord or any of the interesting things that seem to be common in -their lives. They rather look down on the students that have an -allowance from home, so I’ve never told them anything about myself. -Probably I shan’t meet Mr. Pendragon at all. If he had wanted to meet me -he would have come with Nels instead of sending the admission card, -don’t you think so?” - -“Perhaps,” said Gloria. - -Then curiosity overcoming delicacy, Ruth asked her the question that had -been in her mind all day. - -“Which one is Professor Pendragon?” - -“Which one?” Gloria’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Oh yes, I know what -you mean, which one on my list. Percy was number one. I was very young -when I married Percy and very ambitious. It was—let me see—eleven years -ago and we were married just one year. I haven’t seen him for nine years -or heard of him for at least five, and if you love me, Ruth, you won’t -let him know who you are or you won’t mention me. You see I’ve been -married twice since then and I don’t want to meet Percy. It would be -painful to both of us. He can’t have any interest in me, and certainly l -have none in him.” - -Her voice grew hard as she spoke the last words and her mouth set in a -line that made her lips look almost thin, but her eyes were not hard. -Some deep emotion looked out of them, but whether it was pain or hate, -Ruth could not decide. - -She could understand that Gloria would be embarrassed at seeing her -first husband, especially in view of the fact that he had had two -successors, and that Gloria was contemplating a fourth marriage. As -Ruth’s own admiration for Terry Riordan increased she found it -increasingly difficult to believe that Gloria would reject him, so the -fourth marriage seemed quite possible. - -Gloria was going to dine out that night and they were together in her -room where she was dressing. Her auburn hair fell over her shoulders and -Ruth decided that now she looked like the pictures of Guinevere in “The -Idylls of the King.” Ruth knew that Gloria had been disturbed by the -knowledge that her former husband was in New York and that she might -meet him at any time, but she did not seem to be averse to talking about -it, and Ruth was one of those persons, who, seemingly shy and reserved, -actually so about her own affairs, could yet ask with impunity, -questions that from any other person would have seemed prying and almost -impertinent. This was really because Ruth never asked out of idle -curiosity, but because she had a real interest. Her aunt was to her a -fascinating book, the pages of which she must turn and turn until she -had read the entire story. - -“Had any of the people this morning ever met Professor Pendragon?” she -asked. - -“No; that is no one but George—I acquired George in London, you know, -just about the same time that I married Percy. Husbands come and -husbands go, but a good servant is not so easily replaced, so I’ve -managed to keep George, though he hates New York.” - -“Then,” continued Ruth, more to herself than to Gloria, “it was not -Professor Pendragon who gave you this house.” - -“No, as I told you, I don’t think he even knows that I’m in New York. I -didn’t know he was here. I was fond of Percy and naturally I don’t let -him give me anything, because that would have given him pleasure and I -wanted to hurt him—” - -In the mirror she caught the shocked expression in Ruth’s eyes, and -turned swiftly to face her. - -“Of course you think all this is terrible, but after a few years you’ll -understand, not me, but something of life itself and of how helpless we -all are. I know that you have a very clearly defined plan of -life—certain things that you will do—certain things that ‘could never -happen to me.’ I know because we’re all like that. And then one day, -utterly without your own volition, knowing that you’re doing the wrong -thing, you’ll do and say things that simply aren’t written in your -lines. Do you suppose that at your age I planned to love a human -observatory that observed everything except me, or that I expected to -divorce him and marry a tired business man who expected to use me as a -perpetual advertisement for toilet preparations, or that I expected when -I divorced him that I’d do it all over again with a man more lifeless -than his family portraits? You don’t know what you’re going to do when -you start out. I know just that much now—that I don’t know. I may commit -matrimony again tomorrow.” - -“But didn’t you love any of these men?” gasped Ruth. - -“Of course—I loved Percy, and Percy loved the stars—perhaps that’s why -he married me. I was a star of a kind at the time.” - -“Then why—” - -“Oh, I don’t know; I think the final break came because of Eros— Isn’t -that the bell? Do run and tell Terry that I’ll be with him in a minute. -I wonder why he will persist in always being on time?” - -It was Terry. He was trying to engage the dignified George in -conversation. - -“Hello—you look as if you’d been reading fairy tales,” he exclaimed. - -“No, just talking to Gloria,” said Ruth. “She’ll be down in a few -minutes.” - -“It must have been an exciting conversation from the size of your young -eyes.” - -“We were talking,” said Ruth, “we were talking about—about Eros.” - -“The God of Love?” asked Terry. - -“If you will pardon me,” said George, “Eros is also the name of a small -planet discovered in our solar system in the year 1898.” - -Completing which amazing piece of information, George silently departed, -leaving the two staring after him. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -Ruth had intended asking permission to have Dorothy and Nels to dinner -on the night of the private view, but if she did that they would learn -that her aunt was Gloria Mayfield and there was every chance that Nels -would refer to that fact in talking to Professor Pendragon, for Ruth had -already discovered that the art students were ardent celebrity seekers -and Gloria Mayfield, though she had not appeared on any stage for three -seasons, was still something of a celebrity. - -She compromised by eating an early dinner with Dorothy at the little -restaurant on Eighth Avenue, at least Dorothy called it dinner, though -it was eaten at tea time and both girls were too excited to care what -they ate. Then they went home to dress. It was the first time that Ruth -had taken any one of the students to her house and she wondered just how -she would avoid telling Dorothy about her aunt. - -George opened the door for them and they went on up to Ruth’s room -without seeing any one else, though Ruth could hear voices from the -drawing-room. - -“This doesn’t look like a rooming house,” said Dorothy. - -“It isn’t. I live here with friends. What do you think of my work room?” - -“Great!—warm, too. There isn’t any heat where I live and I have to use a -little oil stove, but it’s expensive. You know I don’t think much of -that—one might as well be frank—” She was looking at the canvas Ruth had -on her easel. “Nels and I were talking about it yesterday. We think you -ought to follow up the cartoon thing. You know they make a lot of money, -cartoonists. You could take it up seriously, you know—” - -“But I don’t want to take it up seriously. I don’t want to be a -cartoonist. I want to be a landscape painter, and if you will allow me -to be frank, too, I don’t think that you are in a position to judge -whether I have talent or not.” - -Ruth had been very much surprised to find that her friends at school -seemed to think that she had achieved something by having her sketches -in a Sunday newspaper. What she had thought would make her lose caste -among them had in reality given her distinction, but it had had another -effect also. If she was a caricaturist she could also be a painter, they -reasoned, and less frankly than Dorothy, Nels Zord had expressed the -opinion that she would never be a great painter. - -“Better be a successful cartoonist than an unsuccessful painter,” he had -said. - -She had made no protest until now and Dorothy looked at her in -amazement. - -“Don’t be angry. I didn’t mean anything, only it’s always a pity when -any one has a real talent and then insists on some other method of -expression. Of course you may be a great painter. As you say, I’m not a -critic and besides you haven’t been studying long. Only the painting is -all a gamble and the sketches are a success right now if you care to go -on with them.” - -“So are your fashions if you care to go on with them,” said Ruth, still -hurt. - -“Speaking of fashions, let me see the frock I’m to wear,” said Dorothy, -changing the subject with more abruptness than skill. - -“They’re in my other room,” said Ruth. “You can have anything you want -except what I’m going to wear myself.” - -Then followed two hours of dressing and redressing. There were only two -gowns to choose from, but Dorothy had to try both of them many times, -rearranging her bobbed hair each time, and finally deciding on the blue -one because “it makes my eyes so lovely and Nels is crazy about that -blue.” - -She was so interested in her own appearance that she forgot to ask -questions about the friends with whom Ruth lived and long before Nels -called for them, Ruth knew that Gloria would have gone out for she was -dining with the Peyton-Russells. Mrs. Peyton-Russell had been a chorus -girl who after she married John Peyton-Russell had the good taste to -remember that Gloria Mayfield had befriended her, the result being that -Gloria was often invited to dinner parties at their place in town and -had a standing invitation to whatever country place happened to be -housing the Peyton-Russells, all invitations that Gloria often accepted, -though she complained that Angela Peyton-Russell took her new position -far more seriously than she had ever taken her profession. She was -almost painfully respectable and correct. She dressed more plainly than -a grand duchess, and having no children, was making strenuous efforts to -break into public work. One of the most amusing of her activities, at -least to Gloria, was in connection with a drama uplift movement. - -Nels Zord came promptly at half-past eight, dressed as he had -threatened, “like a musical comedy art student.” His wide trousers, -short velvet jacket and flowing tie created in the mind of Ruth much the -same wonder that Dorothy’s unaccustomed elegance created in the mind of -Nels. Only Dorothy herself was unimpressed by their combined -magnificence. To her everything was but a stepping stone on the upward -path of her career. - -“Don’t I look spiffy, Nels? And aren’t you going to make sure that I -meet Professor Pendragon, and be sure and tell him that I do portraits -and then I’ll do the rest. If one can’t make use of one’s friends, of -whom can one make use?” The last addressed to Ruth. - -“I wouldn’t miss the opportunity of letting him meet you for anything,” -agreed Nels. “Only do try and be a little bit careful, Dot, you are -strenuous, you know. Anyway you’d have met him without asking. He seemed -curious to meet Ruth. Asked how she looked and if she was tall and -beautiful, and seemed awfully disappointed when I told him that she was -only short and pretty. Are you all ready? There’s the cab waiting.” - -From somewhere George appeared to open the door for them, and as Ruth -paused to wrap her cloak more closely about her bare shoulders, his -soft, lisping voice whispered in her ear: - -“Take care what you say to Pendragon, Miss.” - -She nodded and followed Nels and Dorothy into the cold, outer air. In -the cab Nels and Dorothy chatted of the exhibitors—great artists whom -they knew by sight, while Ruth to whom they were only names, listened in -breathless admiration. - -When they had arrived and had left off their wraps, Dorothy protested: - - -“Do we have to go down the line, or can we duck to the left?” - -“No nonsense like that; remember you’re with an exhibitor, and besides -Professor Pendragon may be waiting for us. We can pay for the privilege -of looking at the pictures by breaking through the line of receiving -dowagers. It’s only fair.” - -“Oh, very well—but it’s really awful, Ruth. Lots of the students just -duck the line and slip in at the left, but I suppose we’re too dignified -tonight.” - -Professor Pendragon was not waiting for them, but the long line of -dowagers was. If Dorothy had not been with her, Ruth would merely have -looked at them as a long line of middle aged and elderly women in -evening dress, but Dorothy saw them with far different eyes. She knew -the names of some of them, and whispered them to Ruth while they waited -to follow some people who had arrived before them. - -“Just look at the third one from the end—the one with the Valeska Suratt -make-up on the Miss Hazy frame—” - -And then Ruth looked puzzled. - -“You know Miss Hazy in ‘Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch’—I say, wouldn’t -you think she’d choke with all those beads—the one with the neck like a -turtle. The ones with the antique jewelry are from Philadelphia—you can -tell them with their evening cloaks on, too. They always have evening -cloaks made out of some grand, old piece of tapestry taken from the top -of the piano—” - -Then Nels led them forward and in a very few seconds they had passed the -line of patronesses, thin and stout, there seemed to be no -intermediates, and were free to look at the pictures and talk to their -friends. - -Not for the world would Nels have dashed immediately to his own picture, -though he knew to a fraction of an inch just where it was hung. But -gradually they went to it, hung on the eye line and in the honour room, -and there the three stood, the girls telling Nels how proud they were, -and Nels, gratified at their praise, yet half fearing that some one -would overhear, with the blood coming and going in his blond face until -he looked like a girl despite his heavy shoulders and the big hands that -looked more fitted for handling bricks than for painting delicate -seascapes in water colour. - -Other people seeing their interest in the picture came and looked at it -also. The “outsiders,” as Dorothy called them, standing up as close as -their lorgnettes would permit, the artists, standing far off and closing -one eye in absurd postures, while murmurs of “atmosphere,” “divine -colour,” and other phrases and words entered the pink ears of Nels like -incense in the nostrils of a god. - -So much engrossed was he in his little ceremony of success that he did -not see Professor Pendragon approaching, though Dorothy and Ruth, -without knowing his identity, were both conscious that the very tall, -distinguished looking man was watching them, Ruth even guessed who he -was before he laid his hand on Nels’ shoulder and spoke. It was not -alone that he was tall—very tall even with the slight stoop with which -he carried his shoulders; it was his face that first attracted Ruth’s -attention, a keen, dark face with a high bridged nose and eyes from -which a flame of perpetual youth seemed to flash. Yet it was a lined -face, too, full of unexpected laugh wrinkles and creases and there were -streaks of grey in the hair. - -“Well, Nels, you can’t complain of how the picture was hung this time.” -His voice was like his face, poetic and with a hidden laugh in it. - -Nels turned, flushing redder than before. - -“Professor Pendragon, we’ve been looking for you. I knew you’d turn up -here sooner or later and just waited. Here is Dot, I mean Miss Winslow, -and Miss Mayfield.” - -“Thank you so much for letting me use your guest card. It was very kind -of you, Professor Pendragon, and I’m having such a good time.” - -“Not at all! I was delighted to be able to make such good use of it. -Have you seen Alice Schille’s children or Mary Cassatt’s charming -pastel? The women artists are rather outshining the men this year. If -Nels can break away from his own work we’ll go and see them. Then -there’s John Sloan and Steinlen, and a Breckenridge thing with wonderful -colour.” He led them off, smiling down with a funny little stooping -movement of his head that in a smaller man might have been described as -birdlike. He seemed to know every one and was continually being stopped -by men and women who wanted his opinion about this or that piece of -work. Ruth tried hard to look at the pictures, but her mind was -continually wandering to the people and especially to Professor -Pendragon. Dorothy noticed this. - -“Don’t try to look at things tonight. None of us ever do. The people are -too funny. The dragon seems to be on intimate terms with all of them,” -she whispered. “Nels tells me that he’s a great swell with ever so much -money. I wish you could mention that I paint portraits. If I could get -him to sit it would be a start. You mention portraits and I’ll do the -rest.” - -Much embarrassed and in great fear that Dorothy’s whispers would be -overheard, Ruth tried to make an opportunity for mentioning that Dorothy -painted portraits. Professor Pendragon himself made it. - -“What sort of work are you doing, Miss Mayfield?” he asked. - -“Nothing now, I’m just a student, but I hope to do landscapes. Dorothy -is to be a great portrait painter.” - -“You know I’d love to paint you, Professor Pendragon. You have such an -interesting face—you have really,” she ended as Nels laughed. - -“Some day when I have lots of time—and thank you for saying that my face -is interesting! Or perhaps I can do even better and get some beautiful -woman to sit for you. Wouldn’t you like that?” - -“No; I’d rather have you,” said Dorothy, raising her large blue eyes -with ingenuous confidence. - -“There’s a very interesting picture in the ‘morgue,’ by a new artist of -course, that I’d like to have you see, Nels.” He broke off, for Nels had -been drawn away by some fellow students and Dorothy had followed him, -leaving him alone with Ruth. - -“Never mind; perhaps you’ll be interested, Miss Mayfield.” - -Ruth thought she detected the faintest trace of hesitancy in his voice -whenever he pronounced her name. - -“Is New York your home?” he asked. - -“It is now. I came from Indiana, but my mother died a few months ago and -I am living with friends here.” - -“How sad; you have no relatives then?” - -“No.” - -His eyes were searching her face and she felt that he must see that she -was lying. - -“Do you paint?” she asked. - -“Oh no, this art thing is a new fad with me—that is of course I’ve -always been interested in beautiful things, but it’s only recently that -I’ve been actively interested. I’m afraid I’m a dilettante—rather an -awkward confession for a man of forty-one to make, but it’s true. I -thought I had a career as an astronomer, but I gave that up some years -ago, and since then I’ve tried a bit of everything. One must play some -sort of game, you know. It must be wonderful to be like that little girl -with Nels. Her game will be earning a living for some time to come—” - -Another pause gave Ruth a clue to his thoughts. - -“No; I’m not exactly in that position—of course I want to earn money, -too, but only because that is the world’s stamp of success,” she said. - -He had evidently forgotten the picture they went to see, for he asked -her if she was hungry, and when she said “No,—” - -“I thought young things were always hungry, especially art students, but -if you’re not hungry let’s sit here and talk. Nels and Miss Winslow will -be sure to find us soon.” - -“Astronomy must be an awfully interesting study,” she said, wondering -how any man once having married Gloria could ever have let her go, and -why Gloria once having loved a man like this, could ever have sent him -away. - -“Yes, interesting, but like art it is very long. I sometimes think I -would have done better to take up astrology.” - -“You’re joking,” said Ruth. “Surely you don’t believe in that sort of -thing.” - -“Why not? There’s a grain of truth at the bottom of all old beliefs, and -it is as easy to believe that one’s destiny is controlled by the stars -as to believe in a Divine Providence, sometimes much easier. The stars -are cold, passionless things, inexorable and fixed, each moving in its -appointed round—passing and repassing other stars, meeting and -parting—alone as human lives are alone. There are satellites powerless -to leave the planet around which they circle and here and there twin -stars that seem one light from this distance, but doubtless are really -millions of miles separated in space—” - -He caught the intent look on her face and smiled: - -“No, on the whole I think astrology would not have been any more -satisfactory than astronomy, for even there, there is nothing clear cut, -‘The stars incline but do not compel.’ Just one thing is really sure, -one must play with something.” - -“Here comes Nels,” said Ruth. - -“Just in time to keep me from persuading you that I am quite insane,” -said Professor Pendragon. “I was going to show you a wonderful picture -in the morgue, but it’s too late, Nels, for you’ll never be able to find -it alone, and I am going to buy it. Some day, if you’ll come and have -tea with me—all of you—you can advise me about the proper place to hang -it.” - -“We’ll do that, but I’ll bet I can find it by myself—go ahead and buy it -and when we come to your house I’ll be able to describe the picture and -tell you who painted it.” - -“Of course, if some one tells you.” - -“No, not that; if there’s anything in the morgue worth your attention, -I’ll be sure to notice it.” - -“So will I,” said Dorothy. “Come on, Ruth, let’s look.” - -Ruth had been wondering whether Pendragon would go out with them and how -she could avoid his going to the house on Gramercy Square, but evidently -he was as informal as a student, for he only nodded a careless farewell -and strolled off while they went in search of the picture. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -Ruth entered the house with her own key, which she had taken, not -wanting to keep George waiting up to open the door for her. The house -was quite silent and dark, save for one dim light burning in the hall, -and this light seemed to illumine a thick blue haze or smoke that -floated out enveloping her as she paused on the threshold. At the same -moment she was conscious of an almost overpowering odour of incense, -something that Gloria never used, she knew. She stood a moment peering -through the blue haze until she made out a figure crouching on the -stairs, not George as she at first supposed, but Amy, who seldom showed -herself in the front of the house. She was huddled up, with clasped -arms, weaving to and fro and moaning inarticulate prayers, while her -eyes rolled wildly about in her head. - -“Amy, what’s wrong? Are you ill?” - -Amy paused in her weaving and moaning to shake her head negatively. - -“Then what’s wrong? Is Miss Mayfield ill?” - -Again the negative shake. - -“I’se waitin’ up for yo’, Mis’ Ruth. I want you to let me sleep upstairs -with you all tonight. There’s a couch in the room what you all paint. I -kin use that,—please, Mis’ Ruth, I’se a dead woman ef you says no.” - -“What nonsense!” said Ruth, trying to speak sharply and at the same time -in a low tone. Amy, for all her agitation, kept her voice almost a -whisper and kept turning her head over her shoulder as if she feared -that some one was coming up behind her. - -“Why do you want to sleep in my studio? Aren’t you comfortable -downstairs? If you’re ill I’ll send for a doctor. You’ll have to give me -some reason.” - -She saw that the negro woman’s distress was very real, however foolish, -and laid her hand on her trembling shoulder. - -“Doan ask me no questions now—jes let me come,” she said rising as if -she would accompany Ruth upstairs against her will, and still looking -over her shoulder. - -“I can’t let you come unless you tell me why,” said Ruth, her voice -growing louder in spite of her efforts to keep it low. - -The negress laid a warning finger on her lips and shot a look of such -terror over her shoulder that Ruth felt a sympathetic thrill of horror -down her own spine and peered into the blackness beyond the stairway, -half expecting to see some apparition there. Then struggling as much to -control her own nerves as those of the servant, she put both hands on -Amy’s shoulders and forced her down on the stairway again. - -“If there’s any real reason why you should sleep upstairs you can, but -you must tell me first what you’re afraid of.” - -The negress leaned toward her, whispering: - -“It’s him—that devil-man, George; he a voodoo and he’s practisin’ black -magic down there. I cain’t sleep in the same paht of the house. I’m -goin’ to give notice in the mawnin’—please, Mis’ Ruth, take me up with -yo’—” - -For a moment Ruth did not know what to say. She knew that all negroes -are superstitious, but looking into the rolling eyes of Amy, there in -the midnight silence of the house, she was not able to laugh. - -“I’m surprised at you, Amy. I thought you were more sensible. What’s -George doing? He hasn’t tried to hurt you, has he?” - -“No, not me, he ain’t goin’ hu’t me—I don’t expec’ you-all to -understand. I don’t care whether you understands or not, jus’ let me go -up with yo’.” - -“What’s George doing?” demanded Ruth again. She would much rather have -given consent at once and ended the argument, but she could not control -a feeling both of curiosity and nervousness, and was now protesting more -against her own fears than those of Amy. - -“He tol’ me to go to baid. He orders me roun’ li’e I was his nigger, and -I went, but I could see him through the keyhole—he’s in our -settin’-room—it’s between his room and mine. There’s another do’ to my -room and I wen’ right out through it. I didn’t waste no time. But don’t -you-all try to stop him. He’s at black magic—oh-o-o-o-o-o—” - -Her tense whisper trailed off into a suppressed wail. - -“Come with me,” said Ruth with sudden determination. “I’ll see for -myself.” - -She started off down the hall, through the thick blue haze which she -could now tell was issuing from the servants’ quarters, and Amy, -protesting, but evidently fearing to remain behind, walked behind her. -Ruth had never been in the servants’ quarters, but she knew that they -had rooms on the first floor, which was partly below the street level. -As she passed she switched on the lights in the hall, illuminating the -short flight of steps that led below. The door at the bottom was closed. -At the top of the steps, Amy caught her arm. - -“Don’t go, Mis’ Ruth—jes’ look through the keyhole once. The do’s -locked—don’t knock, jes’ look once—” - -Ruth shook off her restraining arm, but unconsciously she softened her -footsteps, creeping almost noiselessly down the steps, while the black -woman waited above. In the silence she could hear her frightened -breathing. She had no intention of following Amy’s advice, but intended -to knock boldly at the door and then to scold George for frightening his -fellow servant. She was determined to do that even if George complained -to his mistress, but when her foot touched the last step, something -stronger than herself restrained her. She stood a moment with her heart -beating against her ribs, and then, Ruth Mayfield, daughter of -respectable parents, bent down in the attitude of a curious and -untrustworthy servant and applied her eye to the keyhole. She knelt thus -for many minutes before she finally rose and came back up the steps -controlling by a strong effort of her will the inclination to look back -over her shoulder as she had seen Amy do. At the top Amy took her arm -and together they walked back through the hall. - -At the foot of the stairway she turned her white face to Amy. - -“You can come with me if you’ll promise not to say anything about this -to Miss Mayfield, or to leave for a while at least.” - -“I’ll promise anything, Mis’ Ruth, only take me with you—an’ I won’ -tell—I ain’ ready to die yit.” - -“It’s all just nonsense, Amy, only I don’t want to worry Gloria with it -just now. You understand, it’s just nonsense,” she repeated with lips -that trembled. - -She slept fitfully that night, waking in the morning to the sound of -Amy’s knocking at her door. She called to the servant to come in, eager -to talk with her again before she had an opportunity to speak to Gloria. -She came in with the breakfast tray, looking much as usual and -apparently only too eager to ignore the events of the night before. She -set the tray down and began rubbing her shoulders. - -“I got a misery,” she whined, “the wu’k in this house is too ha’ad. -They’se wu’uk enough here for foah and only two to do it all. I’se neber -wu’uked in a big house like this befo’ less they was at least foah kep’. -I’se a cook, I is, not a maid, and what not. Nex’ thing she’ll be askin’ -me to do laundry.” - -“Now, Amy, that isn’t fair. The house is big, but Miss Mayfield only -uses about half of it, and you know she dines out almost more than in. -Besides I don’t want you to go away yet. If you’ll stay I’ll ask Miss -Mayfield to let you sleep up here all the time. I can tell her that I’m -nervous up here so far away from every one and I’m sure she won’t mind.” - -Amy’s face beamed with pleasure. “Is you-all goin’ speak to her ’bout -Go’ge?” - -“Not at once—I must have time to think about that, and you must be -quiet, too.” - -“Don’ you fret; I ain’ goin’ say anything ef you-all doan’.” - -At the door she turned again and looked at Ruth as if she would like to -ask a question, but Ruth pretended not to see, and she went out without -speaking. - -What Ruth had seen could not be ignored, yet she could not go to Gloria -and tell her that she had deliberately peeked through keyholes, -especially as there was no way of proving that she had seen what she had -seen. George did not practise his rites every night or Amy would have -long since fled in terror. The only thing to do was to try and persuade -Gloria to discharge George for some other cause, or failing that, to -watch an opportunity to show Gloria what she had seen. But perhaps -Gloria already knew. That did not seem exactly probable, but Gloria was -a strange woman and she said that George had been in her service a long -time—before her marriage to Professor Pendragon. Perhaps Professor -Pendragon— - -Her thoughts lost themselves in trying to unravel the tangled skein of -Professor Pendragon, Gloria and her marriages, George and his evident -connection with everything. She remembered George’s warning whisper of -the night before. Pendragon might be able to explain everything to her, -but she could not ask him about George without also giving him -information of Gloria, a thing she had promised not to do. The night -before she had thought that she might go direct to Gloria with her story -about George, but in the light of morning it sounded both fantastic and -unreal—as foolish as the fears of the superstitious Amy had seemed -before she, herself, had investigated her wild story. - -She would be late to class this morning, for she had waked late and had -dressed slowly with her thoughts. On her way downstairs she passed -Gloria’s room. The door was open and Gloria was sitting up in bed -surrounded by innumerable papers. - -“Are you in a hurry?” she called. - -“No, not much,” which was true, for being already late, Ruth was -wondering whether it would be worth while to try and attend her first -class. - -“Perhaps you can help me out—can’t make anything of all this,” said -Gloria. - -“What is it?” - -“Bills and my bank account—they don’t seem to match somehow.” - -She thrust a mass of papers toward Ruth, who sat down on the side of the -bed and began to look at them. She picked up an assortment of bills, -some of them months old, some of them just arrived, some of them mere -statements of indebtedness, others with pertinent phrases attached -thereto, such as “An immediate settlement will be appreciated.” - -Ruth found a pencil and a pad and began to add up the various -amounts—they totalled several thousand dollars. The idea of so much -indebtedness frightened Ruth. All her life she had been accustomed to -paying for things when she got them. Since coming to New York she had -discovered that this was bourgeoise and inartistic, but training and -heredity were stronger than environment with her and she still had a -horror of debt. However, she tried to conceal her surprise. - -“Now, if you’ll let me see your check book and your pass book, perhaps -we can discover why they don’t match,” she suggested. - -“Here they are—go as far as you like. I never could make anything of -figures, except debts,” said Gloria. - -“But you haven’t made out more than half the stubs on your checks—how -can I tell what you’ve spent unless you’ve kept some record of it? - -“I don’t know—they balance the book now and then at the bank, but I -don’t know as it’s much use. The truth is I really can’t afford to keep -up this house, even with only two servants.” - -“Why don’t you rent it and then get an apartment and let George go and -keep Amy? You could do with one servant in a small apartment and I could -pay half the expense—” - -“You could not! I thought I made that quite clear. I can’t have any one -living with me except as a guest—” - -“But why?” - -“I don’t know why, except that it flatters my vanity. Besides I can’t -give up the house. I’ve got to keep it whether I can afford it or not. -Where would Billie and any number of other people live when they’re out -of work if they didn’t have this big house to come to? I got a note from -Ben Stark yesterday. His company broke up in Saint Louis last week and -he’s coming on here. I wrote that I could put him up until he gets -another engagement.” - -“But Gloria, don’t you see that you can’t afford to do that sort of -thing? You’re too generous. No one likes to talk about money, but one -must talk about money—it’s always coming in at the most inopportune -moments and unless we recognize it politely at first it’s sure to show -up at the worst time possible later. You can’t afford to be always -giving and never taking anything from any one. If you’d only let me live -here on a sensible basis—it would make me feel much more comfortable, -and—” - -“It would not,” said Gloria. “If I’d known you were going to be sensible -and practical and all that sort of thing, I wouldn’t have asked you to -look at the silly, old bills. And I’m not generous at all. I’m selfish. -Generous people are the sort of people who accept favors -gracefully—people like Billie Irwin and Ben Stark. Besides we aren’t -sure yet. I may have money enough to pay all this—only it’s such a bore -writing checks.” - -She smiled cheerfully at the thought. - -“I’ll tell you what—I’ll take your book to the bank and have it balanced -and then we can find out just what is wrong, and I’ll take care of it -all for you. I did all that sort of thing for Mother, you know.” - -“You’re a dear, and just to show you that I can help myself too I’m -going to do something that I suppose I should have done long ago.” - -One of Gloria’s pet extravagances was having telephone extensions in all -the rooms that she herself used. She reached out now to the telephone by -her bed and called a number. - -“Is Mr. Davis there?” she asked. “Tell him Miss Mayfield wants to talk -to him.” Then after a pause: “Good morning—you remember you offered me a -contract last week. Is it still open? Send it over and I’ll sign it— -Tomorrow? Yes, I can begin tomorrow. Nine o’clock—that’s awfully early, -but I can do it I suppose if other people do. Yes, thanks. Woman’s -prerogative and I have changed mine. Tomorrow, then— Thank you— -Good-bye.” - -“There now, I’ve promised to go to work in the movies and earn some -money. Meantime if you can straighten out my financial puzzle I shall be -most grateful.” - -“Have you ever worked in motion pictures before?” asked Ruth. - -“No, but we all come to it sooner or later, that is if they’ll take us. -I haven’t any illusions about it. They may not like me at all. Being an -actress on the speaking stage doesn’t always mean that one can make a -picture actress. Half the down and out artists of the spoken drama who -scorn the movies, couldn’t get in if they tried. But if they give me a -contract for a few weeks I’ll have that at least, and then if I’m no -good I won’t have to worry about it any more.” - -“Has Miss Irwin an engagement yet?” - -“No; but she’s doing her best, poor dear. It’s awfully hard in the -middle of the season. Angela Peyton-Russell is going to give a Christmas -party at their house in the Berkshires. I’ll have her invite you, too. -If I work a few weeks in pictures I’ll be ready for a rest. By the way, -did you see Percy last night?” - -Suddenly Ruth had a suspicion that this was the real reason why she had -been called in. Gloria’s tone was almost too casual and she had asked -her question without introduction, abruptly in the middle of other -things. - -“Yes, I met him and he’s awfully nice and good looking, but I told him -that I had no relatives and that I am living with friends.” - -“He asked then?” - -“Yes; I suppose the name made him curious.” - -“He isn’t married?” - -“If he is his wife was not with him and he didn’t mention her. I’m -almost sure that he’s not.” - -“Did he talk about astronomy?” - -“No—that is yes—only to say that he’d given it up and art is his latest -fad.” - -“Take care you don’t fall in love with him, he’s very fascinating,” said -Gloria, smiling. - -“I know—why did you divorce him?” - -“How should I know?” Gloria frowned impatiently. “Oh, because he was -quite impossible—as a husband. All men are.” - -“I’ll take your book to the bank now. I’ve missed my morning class -anyway,” said Ruth rising. The weight of all the things she knew and -guessed, and did not know, was pressing heavily on her and she longed -for some one to whom she could tell everything and get advice. Obviously -her temperamental aunt was not the one. - -At the door she paused again, making one last effort to simplify her -problem. - -“Why don’t you discharge George anyway and get another woman? I’m sure -he must be very expensive.” - -“You don’t like George, do you?” - -“No, I don’t. He’s not like any nigger I ever saw before. Where did he -come from anyway?” - -“I don’t know exactly. He is a Hindoo, half-caste I imagine, or he -wouldn’t work as a servant, and I found him in London. It was just -before I married Percy. George had been working in one of the music -halls as a magician and he was ill. I took care of him. His colour -didn’t matter—he was in The Profession, in a way, you know, and when he -got well he offered to work for me and he’s been with me ever since, -about eleven years. I really couldn’t do without George, you know. Percy -didn’t like him either.” - -“Why doesn’t he go back into vaudeville? He could make more money.” - -“Gratitude, I suppose—anyway, that wouldn’t make very much difference, -and so long as I have any money at all, I shall keep George.” - -“How do you know that he is really a Hindoo?” asked Ruth. - -“He told me that when I first found him. You’re more curious about -George than Percy was. Percy always said he looked like something come -to life from a pyramid, but George never liked Percy and he won’t like -you if you ask him questions.” - -“I shan’t ask him questions.” - -“I do wish you hadn’t met Percy—he keeps coming into my mind. Did he -look well?” - -“Very well indeed.” - -“Happy?” - -“That’s more difficult—you know I’d never seen him before, so it would -be hard to tell. If you—why didn’t you let me tell him the truth; then -probably you’d have seen for yourself.” - -“No, I wouldn’t. He might have thought that I deliberately tried to see -him. Anyway I don’t want to see him. I was only curious. Don’t speak -about him again, even if I ask. I want to forget him.” - -Ruth went out with thoughts more conflicting than before. One moment she -thought she detected in Gloria a sentimental interest in her former -husband; the next she appeared to hate him, and apparently there was no -hope of persuading her to send George away. She went to the restaurant -on Eighth Avenue for lunch, where she met Nels and Dorothy. - -“What do you think?” said Nels. “I just heard that Professor Pendragon -is ill—paralysis or something like that, and he certainly looked well -last night. I can’t understand it.” - -“The news doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite any,” said -Dorothy. - -“Certainly not—must keep up steam. Shouldn’t wonder if that was why he’s -ill. He never eats anything much. One can’t paint greatly unless one -eats greatly.” - -“When did he get ill, and how?” asked Ruth. - -“When he went home from the show last night—It’s extraordinary because -he’s never been troubled that way and he was quite well just a short -time before.” - -Ruth was thinking of George and of all the old tales she had ever heard -of the evil eye and black magic. She was thinking of these things with -one part of her brain, while with another part she scoffed at herself -for being a superstitious, silly fool. If only Amy hadn’t persuaded her -to look through the keyhole. - -“I’m going to go and see him tomorrow afternoon,” said Nels. “I’d go -today, but I have to work.” - -“Take us with you,” said Dorothy. “He invited us to tea anyway and he -seemed to be interested in Ruth.” - -“One can’t go to tea with a paralytic, Dot, besides, he lives in a -hotel, unless they’ve moved him to a hospital. I’ll find out and if it’s -all right of course you can go too.” - -“Just look at Ruth, Nels; she looks as concerned as if the dragon were a -dear friend.” - -“I’m not at all; it’s just that it’s sudden—and I was thinking of -something else too.” - -She was remembering Gloria’s last words about not mentioning Pendragon’s -name again. Here was another piece of information that she must keep to -herself. It was so annoying to be just one person with only one pair of -eyes and ears and only one small brain. If she could only see inside and -know what Gloria was really thinking, what depths of ignorance or -wickedness were concealed behind George’s black brows, what secret -Professor Pendragon knew—and even, yes, it might blight romance, but she -would like to know just what Terry Riordan thought. - -Did Gloria love Terry or did her heart still belong to her first -husband? And what of those other two whose names were never mentioned? -If only she could be one of those wonderful detective girls one read -about in magazine stories. How simply she would solve everything. - -She found Terry with Gloria when she reached home. They were talking -interestedly as they always did, with eyes for no one else apparently, -and her heart sank. George came in to ask come question about dinner. He -did look like something that had stepped from the carvings on a pyramid. -His fine features were inexpressibly cruel, yet there was something -splendid about him too. He was so tall—taller than Gloria. Tall enough -to play—she stopped affrighted at her unnatural thought. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -The entire régime of the house on Gramercy Square had been changed. -Instead of rising at eleven o’clock Gloria now left the house shortly -after eight, to be at the motion picture studios in New Jersey at nine, -so that Ruth seldom saw her before dinner time. The balancing of -Gloria’s bank book disclosed that she had been living at a rate far in -excess of her income—news that did not seem to trouble Gloria at all. - -“I’ll make it all up again in a few weeks now that I’m working,” she -said. “If you’ll only write out a book full of checks for my poor, dear -creditors, I’ll sign them and then you can mail them out and everything -will be lovely—for a few months at least.” - -“Yes, but don’t you think you ought to regulate your expenditures -according to your assured income, Gloria? You know you aren’t always -working,” said Ruth. - -“I can’t be troubled with that now. Wait until I get tangled up -again—something always happens, and nothing could be worse than the -pictures; regular hours like a shopgirl, and no audience.” - -Ruth returned from school to find Gloria not yet home and the -drawing-room empty, except perhaps for Billie Irwin and Ben Stark, a -tall, good-natured youth, who had followed hard upon his letter and who -was perpetually asking Ruth to go to theatres with him, where he had -“professional courtesy” due to having worked on Broadway the season -before. If Ruth refused, as she sometimes did, he cheerfully turned his -invitation to Billie Irwin, seemingly as pleased with her society as -with that of the younger woman. - -It troubled Ruth to think of them all, herself and Miss Irwin and Ben -Stark, all living here as if Gloria had unlimited wealth, while Gloria -went out every morning to uncongenial work to keep up with the expenses -of her too large ménage. Only that morning Amy had complained to her of -having so many breakfasts to prepare for people who rose whenever they -pleased and never remembered to make her any presents. If only George -would grow dissatisfied—but he never seemed weary of serving Gloria’s -impecunious guests, and if he was still engaged in midnight orgies of -enchantment Ruth could not know. She dared not repeat the keyhole -experiment. She wished that she had not taken Amy upstairs to sleep; -then she would have had a spy below stairs. It was foolish of her to -connect Professor Pendragon’s illness with George, but she could not -help it. If she could only have some other opinion to go by—or perhaps -when she had seen Professor Pendragon again, her illusion would be -dispelled. Nels Zord had talked with him over the telephone and -Professor Pendragon had made light of his illness and said he would be -glad to have Nels and the two girls come and have tea with him the -following Thursday. He said he was not going to a hospital and hoped to -be quite well when they came. If he was well then Ruth could laugh at -her superstitious fears. Thursday was a good day for all of them because -there was no lecture Thursday afternoon and they could all leave the Art -Students’ League at half-past four and go together to Professor -Pendragon’s hotel. - -The idea of visiting a man in his hotel, even a man of forty who was -ill, and in company with two other people did not seem quite proper to -Ruth, but she did not say anything about it, having acquired the habit -of taking customs and conventions as she found them. Nevertheless she -was quite relieved to find that Professor Pendragon had a suite and that -they were ushered into a pleasant room with no hint either of sickness -or sleep in it. She even took time to wonder where the prejudice against -sleeping rooms as places of ordinary social intercourse first -originated. - -Professor Pendragon met them, leaning on a crutch, one foot lifted in -the attitude of a delightful, old stork. - -“It’s really kind of you to come,” he said, after he had made them all -comfortable. “You know I have hundreds of acquaintances but very few -friends, as I have discovered since I became a victim of the evil eye.” - -Ruth could not restrain a start of surprise and he looked at her, his -dark eyes wrinkling with mirth. - -“So you know about the evil eye?” he questioned. - -“No, I don’t. Only I suppose the phrase startled me. What really is the -matter?” - -“I don’t know and neither do the doctors apparently; that’s why I call -it the evil eye. I came home from the show that night and went to sleep -like a good Christian with a quiet conscience, but when I woke I found -that my right leg was paralysed to the knee. It was the dark of the moon -that night. I know because I always think in more or less almanacal -terms—that would be when the evil eye would be most effective, you know; -and I’m waiting for the full moon to see if I will not be cured as -mysteriously as I have been afflicted.” - -Nels and Dorothy were listening with puzzled eyes, not quite knowing -whether Professor Pendragon was jesting or in earnest. - -“You mean all maniacal terms, if you believe such rubbish,” said Nels, -“and you need a brain specialist, not a doctor.” - -“I think that’s our tea at the door, if you’ll please open it for me, -Nels, and I promise not to talk about the evil eye in the presence of -such moderns as you and Miss Winslow again.” - -“Why don’t you include Ruth in that?” asked Dorothy, as Nels rose to -open the door. - -“Because Miss Mayfield is not a modern at all; she belongs to the dark -middle ages.” - -“I’m afraid I’m a bit superstitious,” admitted Ruth, and then hoping to -test his sincerity, for he had spoken throughout with a smile, and also -to throw, if possible, some light on the uncanny suspicions that -troubled her—“Even if you did believe in the evil eye, who would want to -harm you?” - -“Please do stop,” said Dorothy. “You’re spoiling my tea with your -gruesome talk. Where’s the picture that Nels was to point out and advise -you about hanging?” - -“That is, perhaps, a more wholesome topic, but we were only joking, Miss -Mayfield and I.” - -“I’ve found the picture already,” exclaimed Nels—“the one with the fat -Bacchus—you see I picked it out of all the others—I don’t blame you for -buying it; it’s delightful humour, depicting Bacchus as a modern -business man, fat and bald, yet clad in a leopard skin with grape vines -on his head, and tearing through the forest with a slim, young nymph in -his arms—it’s grotesque and fascinating.” - -“I thought you’d approve,” said Professor Pendragon. “Now where shall we -hang it?” - -“It’s all right where it is, unless you have a larger picture to hang -there.” - -“Now, while you’re unable to walk around, why don’t you sit for a -portrait—you’ll never have another time when the sittings will be less -irksome. I’d come here and Ruth could come with me as a chaperon, not -that I need one, but we might as well be perfectly proper when it’s just -as pleasant—you know,” she continued, slightly embarrassed by the smiles -on the faces of Nels, Professor Pendragon, and Ruth. “I’m not looking -for a commission at all; I just want to paint you because you will make -an interesting subject, and because, if I can hang you—I mean get your -picture hung in the Academy, I will get real commissions, just because -you sat for me. Now I’ve been perfectly frank,” she finished. - -Pendragon held out his hand to her, laughing: - -“Any of those numerous reasons ought to be enough,” he said, “and if my -infirmity lasts long enough, I’ll be glad to have you come and help me -kill time.” - -“Better start before next dark of the moon,” said Ruth mischievously. - -“That gives you only ten more days,” said Pendragon. - -“You don’t really believe in those things?”—Dorothy’s blue eyes were -wide with distress—“Please tell me the truth; Nels, they’re just -teasing, aren’t they?” - -“Of course, you know they are; don’t be a silly goose, Dot,” said Nels. - -“I know they are, but even if they don’t believe in all they say, they -believe in something that I don’t understand, now, don’t you?—confess.” - -She turned to Ruth, but it was Pendragon who answered. - -“If mind is stronger than matter, and most of us believe that now, then -an evil thought has power over matter just as surely as a good thought -has power, and the power of the evil thought will continue until it is -dispelled by good thought. There if you like is black and white magic. I -believe that there are people in the world so crushed by fear and -wickedness that every breath of their bodies and every glance of their -eyes is a blight on all who come near them, and I believe that there are -people who are so fearless and good that where they walk, health and -happiness spreads round them as an aura, as sunlight on every life that -touches them. Does that satisfy you, Miss Dorothy?” - -“Oh yes, that’s very beautiful, I’m sure,” said Dorothy, looking a bit -uncomfortable as if she had been listening to a sermon. “When will you -let me come for your first sitting?” - -“Sunday morning if you like; that won’t interfere with your classes, and -it’s a good day for me too, because I am duller than usual on Sunday.” - -As they were leaving, Ruth lingered for a moment. - -“If you did have an enemy who was trying to harm you, what would you do, -Professor Pendragon?” she asked. - -“Evil works like good, can only be accomplished with faith; if I had an -enemy, I would destroy his faith in his own power,” he answered. - -Ruth found the entire family, as Gloria called her household, assembled -when she reached the house on Gramercy Park. Terry Riordan was among -them. - -“Please, Ruth, won’t you go to the theatre with Terry tonight? He has a -perfect passion for first nights, but as an honest working woman I need -my rest and I’m too tired to go tonight,” said Gloria. - -“I’d like to, but—” Ruth glanced in the direction of Ben Stark. - -“Oh, don’t mind me,” said that youth. “The fact that you have refused me -three times won’t make any difference. I’m accustomed to such treatment -from the fair sex.” - -“Why don’t you come with us?” said Terry. “I have three tickets and -intended taking both Gloria and Ruth if they would go.” - -“Please, Miss Ruth, will you let me go with you? I’ll walk a few paces -in the rear and be a good little boy,” said Ben. “You really must be -kind to me, because I’m going into rehearsals for another trip to the -coast with a company that will probably go at least as far as Buffalo. -You’ll miss my cheery smile when I am far away.” - -“Then we’ll all go together,” agreed Ruth, rather annoyed that Terry -should have suggested that Ben go with them. Evidently he considered her -too young to be an interesting companion and would be glad to have -another man to talk to. It was perhaps for this reason that when they -started out she directed most of her smiles and conversation to the -erstwhile neglected Ben, making that young man beam with pleasure, while -Terry seemed not to observe his neglected state at all. - -“What’s wrong, old chap? You are as solemn as an owl and you ought to be -as happy as larks are supposed to be, with a real, honest-to-goodness -show on Broadway,” said Ben. - -“It’s going off next week,” said Terry. “It’s been nothing but a paper -house for a week, and they’re going to try it on the road; I don’t seem -to have the trick or the recipe for success.” - -“I’m so sorry; perhaps it will go well on the road,” said Ruth. - -“Don’t feel sorry; it doesn’t matter very much; I’ll write another. A -man must do something and if I grow very successful I might be tempted -to stop.” - -“Yes, one must play some game; that’s what Professor Pendragon says.” - -“That’s right, you met Gloria’s husband, didn’t you? What’s he like?” - -“Very nice; I’ll tell you later all about it.” - -They were entering the theatre now and Ruth wanted to talk to Terry -about Professor Pendragon when no one else was listening. Ben Stark was -a jarring note that precluded absolute revealment of her hopes and -fears. Nevertheless she forgot to be annoyed at his presence in the -theatre for he amused her with his comments about people on and off the -stage and Terry was strangely silent. The play was a particularly inane -bit of fluff and seemed to be making a great hit. Ruth could imagine the -trend of his thoughts, the discouragement attendant upon doing his best -and seeing it fail, and watching the success of an inferior endeavour, -yet she envied him, for he at least believed in his own work, and the -more she studied and compared her work with that of other students, the -more a creeping doubt of her own ability filled her brain. - -“I need cheering up! Won’t you go to supper with me?” he asked as they -passed out of the theatre. - -His invitation was addressed to both Ben and Ruth, but Ben, with motives -which Ruth understood only too well begged off. - -“You know I have to report for rehearsals tomorrow morning, if you don’t -mind I’ll run along.” - -He evidently thought that Terry would like to be alone with Ruth, and -Ruth, realizing his mistake, was yet too timid to protest, even had she -not secretly desired to be alone with Terry. She had never gone to -supper with a man alone. It would be an adventure, and the fact that she -loved the man even though he did not know or care, made it even more -thrilling. She bethought herself of her costume and wished that she were -in evening clothes. - -“I think I’d better take you some place near home,” said Terry. “If we -use a cab we can save time, and there won’t be so many people downtown -and we’ll be served quicker. I feel a bit guilty about keeping you out -late.” - -“I’m not a child,” said Ruth, pouting. - -“I know you’re not, but you are—you’ll always be one, I hope.” - -She was about to ask why, but they were entering a cab now and she did -not ask. She wanted to ask where they were going, but she did not ask -that either. She found herself with Terry afflicted with a strange -inability to talk. They rode almost in silence to Fourteenth Street and -entered a most disappointing place. - -Ruth’s idea of supper after the theatre was a place of soft lights and -music with beautifully dressed women and flowers, and sparkling wine. -She didn’t want to drink the sparkling wine herself or even to wear the -beautiful gowns, but she wanted to see them. - -The place they entered was a low ceiled, dark paneled room with no music -visible or audible. There were white spread tables, but the women around -them were far from beautiful, the men undistinguished in the -extreme—matrons on the heavy order with men who were quite obviously, -even to Ruth’s untrained gaze, their lawful spouses. Both men and women -were giving more attention to their food, than to their companions and -they were drinking—beer. - -“It’s quiet here and we can talk,” said Terry, quite oblivious to Ruth’s -disappointment, but when they were seated he did not talk. - -“Tell me about the new comedy you’re writing,” said Ruth, remembering -the axiom that it is always tactful to talk to a man about his own work. - -“No; I want to forget my work and myself. Let’s gossip. Tell me about -Gloria’s husband.” - -In this Ruth thought she detected the interest of a jealous suitor. - -“Professor Pendragon is very charming and very clever and good looking. -He is taller than Gloria, and apparently has no particular vocation, for -he has given up astronomy. His interest in art he calls a fad; he lives -alone in a suite in the Belton Hotel and about ten days ago he became -mysteriously paralysed—his right leg up to the knee. That’s all I know,” -said Ruth, “except that he’s one of the most fascinating men I’ve ever -seen and I can’t understand why any woman would ever give him up. He’s -almost as wonderful as Gloria herself. I’d like to say that he is ugly -and old and disagreeable for your sake, but he isn’t.” - -Terry looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment and then ignored her -inference if he understood it at all. - -“That’s a lot of information to have collected all about one person,” he -said. “They say it was a great love match and that they disagreed over -some trifle. They met and were married in London and Gloria got a -divorce in Paris less than a year later. Curious his turning up just -now.” - -“Why just now?” asked Ruth. - -“Because Gloria is a woman who must at all times have some absorbing -interest, and recently she hasn’t had one and it’s telling on her. She -has fits of moodiness, and wild ideas that she never carries out—like -the proposed sudden trip to Palm Beach. Two years ago when I first met -Gloria she would have gone. If only I could finish my comedy and make it -a real success with Gloria in the star rôle—” - -“You would really like to do things for Gloria,” said Ruth. - -“Yes; I’m awfully fond of her. She’s been my friend and has helped me -ever since I first met her.” - -“Then, please, can’t you persuade her to get rid of George?” - -There was an intense appeal in Ruth’s voice that surprised Terry more -than her request. - -“Why? How would that help her?” - -“I can’t explain it exactly. There are several reasons. One is that -Gloria has been living quite beyond her income—I suppose I shouldn’t -tell these things even to you, but I am worried about her and perhaps -you can help—and she simply refuses to give up her big house because it -serves as a refuge for professional people, friends of hers, out of an -engagement. Of course all these people think that Gloria has unlimited -means or they wouldn’t come. She won’t even let me help her, though I -could quite easily. It’s because she really needs money that she’s gone -to work in motion pictures. I imagine that George is an expensive -servant and I thought if we could make her discharge him, she could get -some one else for less money. Of course that wouldn’t make much -difference in her expenses—I understand that—but it would be a start. -It’s a lot of small economies that count, you know,” she said gravely. - -“I had no idea that Gloria didn’t have lots of money. Her second husband -was Darral Knight, a man who had made a fortune in toilet preparations. -It was he who gave her the house on Gramercy Square. Then she married -Brooks Grosvenor and he settled an income on her when they were -divorced. I always supposed that it was ample. Certainly from what I’ve -heard of the man he would have it fixed so that she could not get -anything but the income, and even that would be forfeited if she married -again.” - -“The income isn’t large, not really large enough to afford such a big -house, and Gloria has gone in debt a lot and now she’s working to pay it -off. You see she’d have enough money if she would consent to live -differently.” - -“But Gloria is not the sort of person who will ever live differently. I -have often wondered how she got by in such a big house with perpetual -guests and only two servants, but I suppose she just didn’t want to -bother with any more. But that isn’t the reason you want her to get rid -of George, is it? It really wouldn’t make any appreciable difference, -would it?” - -“No—there are other reasons too, but I’m afraid to tell you.” - -“Something you don’t like to put into words?” - -Ruth nodded. - -“I think I know. I’ve thought of it myself and I don’t like to put it -into words either, but I will, so that we can understand each other -perfectly—a necessary thing if we are to help Gloria.” He paused looking -at her, and seemingly trying to gather courage for what he was about to -say. - -“You think that George is in love with his mistress.” - -Ruth’s horrified face revealed that Terry had put into words something -quite foreign to anything in her thoughts. - -“Don’t look so horrified, it sounds terrible to us—it is terrible, but -you must remember that George is a Hindoo, not a nigger, and that he is -well educated, and that in many parts of the world, the idea of a black -man loving a white woman is not so repugnant as it is here. I wouldn’t -admit it for a long time myself, but it’s the only plausible explanation -of a lot of things. Perhaps Gloria has told you that when she first met -George he was a magician mahatma, who had been playing in London music -halls and that he had been out of work for some time on account of -illness. Out of gratitude, apparently, he offered to serve her. Later -when he had quite recovered his health he could easily have gone back to -his former work, but he didn’t go, though regardless of what Gloria pays -him, it must be much less than he could make on the stage. If you’ve -observed too, you will have seen that his attitude, while quite -respectful, is never the attitude of a servant, and toward Gloria’s men -friends his attitude is almost offensively disrespectful, especially -when she is not present. He even hates me. I’ve thought for a long time -that she ought to get rid of him, but I can’t go to her and tell her -what I think, for certainly Gloria doesn’t suspect anything like that.” - -During this explanation, Ruth, recovered from the first shock of his -words, was thinking rapidly. All her fears and superstitions came back -one hundred fold in the light of Terry’s revelation. They gave reason -and purpose to what she had seen and what she had suspected. She debated -in her mind whether she dare tell everything to Terry. - -“But evidently you had something else in mind—some other reason,” he -continued. “What was it?” - -She looked at his grey blue eyes and brown hair, his clear, fair skin -and firm chin—he was Western of the West—he would never understand or -believe. - -“Nothing,” she answered. “I suppose it’s just that I sensed what you -have said, without ever daring to put it into words even in my own -thoughts. Couldn’t you try and tempt George back on to the stage?” - -“I don’t know—I couldn’t, because he doesn’t like me, but I might get -some one else to do it, that is if he hasn’t forgotten all his old -tricks. Eleven years is a long time, you know.” - -“Oh, he hasn’t—” but she decided not to finish her sentence. - -The restaurant was almost deserted now, and Terry bethought himself, -with many apologies, of his resolve not to keep Ruth out too late. He -would have hurried into another cab, but Ruth protested that it was such -a short distance and she wanted to walk. In reality she thought that in -the darkness when she could not see his face so clearly she might find -the courage to tell him. Yet she walked silent by his side, unable to -speak. She was lost in the wonder of being alone with him—he was so tall -and wonderful. She looked up at the stars and gratitude filled her -heart. It was good to love, even when love was unreciprocated. She -pitied women who had never loved, as she did, unselfishly—a love more -like adoration than earthly passion. She wanted to help Terry and -Gloria. She would rejoice in their marriage. If she could only solve -their problems, she would not care what life held for her after that. It -was an exalted mood for a girl of nineteen years, some months and days, -and Terry, all unsuspecting, broke into it with words: - -“I wish we could arrange to have Gloria and Professor Pendragon meet -again,” he said. “Pendragon was the big love of her life, and no man -ever having once loved Gloria could possibly be quite free of her sway. -She made the other marriages just for excitement, I think. I can’t -imagine any other reason. I’d like to have them meet again. It would be -interesting to say the least. I’m horribly unmodern, but I believe that -men and women love once and once only.” - -It seemed to Ruth that there was a note of sad resignation and generous -resolve in his voice. - -“But I’ve promised Gloria that I will not let him know anything about -her. It’s very generous of you to want to—to bring them together.” - -For a moment Terry did not speak. He seemed to be considering her words -and looked at her in a curious way that she did not understand. - -“It’s not generosity—perhaps only curiosity,” he said. “Gloria and I -have been such good friends—and I am tremendously fond of her. She is so -beautiful and charming and talented, but just now I think she needs -something, some one, bigger than her work.” - -They had reached home, Ruth in a state of exalted pain and happiness. -Terry loved Gloria; that was evident, but for some reason he did not -hope to win her. With noble generosity he was hoping only for Gloria’s -happiness—planning to bring her and Professor Pendragon together. -Somehow it seemed that she and Terry were sharing sacrifice—he his love -for Gloria, she her love for him. It gave her a feeling of sweet -comradeship with him, that almost compensated for the pain of knowing -that he did not love her. Perhaps behind her thoughts too there was the -faint hope that if Gloria went back to her first husband, Terry might -change the object of his affections, but this thought was only half -defined, for at nineteen the idea of a man loving twice is very -inartistic. To Ruth all real love was of the _Abelard and Heloise, Paul -and Virginia_ type. - -Thus she thought in silence while Terry waited for her to unlock the -door. The door opened to her key and she turned to say good-night to -him, when her nostrils caught the overpowering perfume of some strange -incense, and in the hall she saw the same blue haze that she had seen -that night when she found Amy on the stairs. Terry, too, had smelled the -incense, and paused, looking at her for explanation. Her heart was -beating at a tremendous rate. Here was the opportunity that she had been -seeking to secure an unbiased witness. She put her finger to her lips in -sign of silence, as Amy had done that night, and drew him with her into -the hall. Then she closed the door silently behind them. Without knowing -why he imitated her example in silence. Inside the hall was heavy with -the blue smoke and the perfume that seemed to be smothering them. - -“Now I can show you why I want Gloria to send George away. He’s -downstairs now, I think,” she was speaking in a low whisper. “I want you -to see for yourself. I haven’t dared to tell any one for fear they -wouldn’t believe. He’s down there,” she pointed. “Don’t knock or let him -know you’re coming—I want you to see everything. Perhaps—I know it -sounds a terrible thing to do, but if you could just look through the -keyhole—” - -She stopped abruptly, seeing Terry’s look of amazement at such a -request. - -“Believe me—it is better to do that—just look once and you’ll -understand.” - -She moved toward the rear of the house, tiptoeing noiselessly and -beckoning him to follow. At the top of the short flight of steps she -stopped again. - -“Down there, behind that door,” she whispered. - -As one preparing to dispel the foolish fears of a nervous woman, Terry -advanced down the steps, yet such was the influence of the hour, the -strange incense and Ruth’s manner that he walked softly. Ruth followed -him, but at the bottom Terry did not bend down to look through the -keyhole. Before Ruth’s frightened eyes he put his hand to the handle of -the door, which swung inward at his touch. - -A deeper blue haze than that above filled the room into which they -looked. In the centre of the room George was kneeling—about his head a -white turban was wound and he was wrapped in a long, black robe on which -the signs of the zodiac were picked out in gold thread. Before him was -placed an altar, which rose in a series of seven steps. At the bottom a -lamp was burning with a blue flame, from which the clouds of incense -were rising, almost obscuring what lay coiled on the topmost step which -spread into a flat platform—an enormous serpent coiled, with its head -lifted from the centre of the mass and swaying from side to side, -seemingly in accompaniment to a low monotonous chant that George was -singing, while he too swayed back and forth, for some moments seeming -not to know that the door had been opened. Ruth could not understand the -words of the chant, but from the tone they sounded like an invocation. -George was praying to his reptile! Suddenly, as if he had just seen -them, he lifted his hands and his voice rose, and the snake reared its -head far into the air, so that they could see its darting, forked -tongue. Then as George’s voice suddenly stopped on a high note the snake -subsided again, and George rose to his feet and greeted them. - -“Good evening,” he said, “I was just practising my box of tricks. You -know I used to be a professional magician and Miss Mayfield has asked me -to accompany her to the Christmas party in the country to help entertain -the guests of the Peyton-Russells. The snake is quite harmless,” he -continued, picking it up on both hands and dropping it over his -shoulders. “Would you like to touch it?” - -“Oh, no, no,” said Ruth, drawing back and instinctively clutching -Terry’s arm. Terry did not accept the invitation either, but to Ruth’s -surprise he seemed to accept George’s explanation of the strange scene -as truth. - -“We were attracted by the smell of the incense,” he explained, “thought -it might be fire and we’d better investigate.” - -“Certainly, quite right.” Never had George’s voice sounded so silky and -lisping and sinister. He stood quite still, seemingly waiting for them -to go, the snake coiled round his shoulders. Ruth was only too glad to -make her escape and Terry followed her. In the hall he turned to her -smiling. - -“No wonder you were frightened if that’s what you saw, but you see it’s -quite all right—Gloria knows about it and it hasn’t any significance. Of -course snakes aren’t pleasant things to have in the house, but this one -is harmless, so I hope it won’t disturb your sleep.” - -“Do you believe what George said,” she asked. - -“Of course, why not?” - -“Because I don’t. He may be practising tricks for the Christmas -party—that may be true, but there was no trick to what we saw just -now—the snake was real, and the altar and the incense—and George was -praying—he was praying to that snake.” - -“Even so,” said Terry. “We’re not missionaries that we should try to -convert the heathen. I don’t care how many snake worshippers there are -in New York.” - -“It isn’t that, Terry—I know it sounds weird, but the night I saw him -before, was the night Professor Pendragon was stricken with paralysis—” - -She stopped frightened by the lack of comprehension in Terry’s face. - -“Don’t you see if George will worship a snake, he is the sort of person -who will pray calamities on his enemies. If he loves Gloria, then he -hates Professor Pendragon, because he is the only man Gloria has loved. -When Pendragon’s name was first mentioned, you remember the Sunday -morning I got the card to the water colour show, George was even more -concerned than Gloria, and when I went he warned me to be careful what I -said. I believe that he is responsible for Pendragon’s illness.” - -Comprehension had dawned in Terry’s face, but with it Ruth could see a -tolerant incredulity and a wonder that she could believe such nonsense. - -“It’s reasonable enough that George hates Pendragon, but even if he does -hate him and even if he was actually praying for him to be harmed, that -doesn’t give a prop snake the power to carry out his wishes.” - -“It isn’t the snake; it’s the power of George’s concentrated thought.” - -“Thoughts can’t harm people,” said Terry. - -“But they can—thoughts are things and evil thoughts are as powerful as -good ones.” - -She could almost see the thoughts passing through Terry’s brain. He was -looking at her, assuring himself that she really was sane and had been -up to this night quite normal, almost uninterestingly normal, and even -while she tried to make her beliefs clear she was conscious of a feeling -of exultation because for the first time she was actually interesting -the man. - -“I’ve heard of Indian fakirs who could paralyse parts of their own -bodies so that knives could be thrust into them without causing the -slightest pain, but I never heard of one who exercised such power over -another person, but even if that were possible how would it help to send -George away? If Gloria sent him away, he could still keep on thinking -and worshipping snakes, too, for that matter,” he said, smiling. - -“Professor Pendragon told me that if he had an enemy who was trying to -harm him, he would try and destroy that enemy’s faith in his ability to -harm. What we must do is destroy the snake first. George worships the -snake or some power of which the snake is a symbol. Either way if we -destroy the snake we destroy George’s confidence in his ability to -harm.” - -“I haven’t any objections to killing snakes. In my opinion that’s what -the horrid beasts were created for, but this particular snake is -probably very valuable—he belongs to the profession and everything.” - -“Please don’t jest about it, Terry; it may be a matter of life and -death. If I hear that Professor Pendragon is worse instead of better -tomorrow, I will be sure. Then we must do something before it is too -late. You must promise to help me.” - -She laid her hand on his arm and looked up at him with such genuine fear -and entreaty in her eyes that for a moment he understood and sympathized -with all of her beliefs. - -“Of course I’ll help,” he promised, “but now I’d best go, and you must -go to bed and try not to dream of snakes.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -Ruth waited impatiently for the noon hour, so that she might ask Nels -what news he had of Professor Pendragon, but when she finally met him he -had not seen nor heard from the Professor since the day they all had tea -together. On Sunday morning Dorothy was to go to him to begin his -portrait and Ruth was to accompany her. Until then she probably would -get no news. In the afternoon when she returned to the house she found -Gloria there before her, having returned early from the motion picture -studios. Terry was there too, reading the last of his new comedy which -was now completed. Gloria was enthusiastic about it and Billie Irwin, -who had been quite depressed for over a fortnight, was now as cheery as -if the contract was already signed, for Gloria had picked out a part -that must certainly be given to Billie if she, herself, was to play the -lead. - -They all talked as if the production of the play was assured, and as if -no one but the author would have a word to say about how it should be -cast, a thing that seemed quite logical to Ruth until Terry himself -explained that he would have very little to say about it, except as to -Gloria, and she would be given the leading rôle when the play was -produced, not so much because Terry wanted her, as because she was the -only well-known actress who could possibly fit it. - -To hear the others talking one would think that the play was going into -rehearsals tomorrow with all the parts distributed among Gloria’s -friends. Even Ben Stark begged Terry to try and hold out one of the -parts until he saw how his road tour was coming out, and they were all -discussing how the various parts ought to be dressed. - -Terry had no opportunity to talk to Ruth alone, but they exchanged -significant glances when George appeared with tea, looking so correct -and conventional that it was difficult to believe that they had seen him -the night before burning incense and kneeling to a snake. - -“Any news?” Terry whispered, and Ruth could only shake her head. - -When George had left the room Terry ventured to speak of him: - -“What’s all this that George is telling me about going up to the -Peyton-Russells’ with you to amuse the guests with vaudeville magic?” he -asked. - -“Oh, he’s been telling!” exclaimed Gloria. “I intended it to be a -surprise. He’s really quite wonderful, you know, or at least he was -quite wonderful if he hasn’t forgotten.” - -“It can’t do any harm, my knowing, as I’m not to be one of them,” said -Terry. - -“I’d get you an invitation, if there was the slightest chance that you’d -accept,” said Gloria. - -“You know I’d like to go, just to see George.” - -“Consider yourself invited then. Angela will ask any one that I tell her -I want. They’ve got loads of room and men are never too numerous even in -the trail of the fair Angela.” - -“Don’t you think that George ought to go back to his profession? If he’s -as good as you say it ought to be easy to get him signed up on the -Orpheum circuit. If he doesn’t know the ropes here in the States I’ll be -glad to help him,” said Terry. - -“It can’t be done—the biggest salary in the world wouldn’t tempt George -away from my service. It’s the Eastern idea of gratitude. We had that -all argued out ten years ago. I told George that he ought not to give up -his career to serve me, but he wouldn’t listen to me at all. He said -that I had saved his life, therefore it belonged to me. He almost wept -at the idea of having to go, and yet I sometimes think that it is my -life that belongs to George instead of his life that belongs to me. He -is a most despotic servant and tries to rule all of my actions. If my -conduct displeases him he inconsistently threatens to leave, but of -course he doesn’t mean it.” - -Gloria was smiling, reciting the peculiarities of an amusing servant, -but to Ruth her words were appalling. She seemed to see Gloria as a -bright plumaged bird, charmed by a snake. Once, years ago when she was a -little girl visiting in the country, she had seen a bird thus charmed, -circling, circling, downward toward the bright-eyed snake that waited -for it. She had been unable to move or help, as fascinated as the bird -itself. She felt the same sensation of helplessness now. She dared not -look at Terry, but a few minutes later he came to her side and whispered -to her: - -“Meet me at Mori’s tomorrow at five.” - -She had never heard of Mori’s, but she could look it up in the telephone -directory. Evidently Terry had some plan. The thought cheered her -immeasurably. - -The situation in the house was a curious one, for Amy shrank with terror -whenever George came near her, at the same time leaping to do his -slightest bidding. Ruth, so far as possible, ignored George completely -and he never spoke to her directly unless it was absolutely necessary, -and Gloria did not seem to either observe or sense that there was a -strained atmosphere in the house. - -The distrust of George and foreboding of the future descended on Ruth -the moment she entered the house in the afternoon and remained with her, -colouring all her thoughts until she entered the Art Students’ League in -the morning. Here she forgot everything in passionate pursuit of art, -daily lifting her ambition to higher ideals and daily seeming to -demonstrate more and more her lack of talent for the career which she -had chosen. - -Seeing her earnestness her fellow students strove to help her, giving -her advice and criticism and now and then a word of encouragement, and -Ruth, whose confidence in herself was fast slipping, listened to -everything, following the advice last received and struggling to “find -herself.” - -The thing that hurt her most was the fact that as yet she had seemed to -attract no particular notice from her instructors. In Indianapolis she -had been rather important and she could not think that the greater -attention she had received there was entirely due to there not being so -large a number of students. She longed to ask one of the instructors, -but it was hard to do that. They came through, looked impersonally at -her work and made brief comments about drawing, proportion, composition, -etc. Finally the courage came to her very suddenly in the portrait class -one morning. She had come early and was in the front row. Very slowly -the instructor, the most frank and vitriolic of all the instructors, -according to Nels, was coming toward her. Suddenly she knew that she -would speak to him that day. As he stopped from time to time, her -courage did not desert her. She waited quite calmly until he reached her -side. She rose to let him have her chair, and for some seconds he looked -at her work without speaking. Then he began: - -“Don’t you see that your values are all wrong? And the entire figure is -out of drawing; it’s a caricature!” - -Ruth listened almost without emotion. It was as if he was speaking to -some one else. - -“By the way,” continued the instructor, looking up at her suddenly, -“didn’t I see some work of yours in one of the Sunday newspapers about a -month ago?” - -Ruth nodded; she could not speak. - -“I thought so; I was pleased and surprised at the time to see how much -better your work in that line was than anything you have done here. -That’s what is the trouble with this; it’s a cartoon.” - -“But I want to be a portrait painter; I’m interested more in landscapes. -Please tell me the truth. Do you think I have talent—possibilities—will -I ever do anything?” - -He looked at her, frowning, yet with a half smile on his lips. - -“Tell me first, what are you studying for? Are you collecting canvases -to take home and show Mother, or do you intend to try for a career—to -make a profession of painting?” - -“It is my profession—I’ve never wanted to do anything else—I must be a -great painter.” - -She spoke with almost hysterical intensity. - -A shadow passed over the instructor’s face. - -“It is difficult to say who has and who has not talent. So far I have -seen no signs of it in your work here. Unquestionably you have the -cartoon gift, but as for painting—still a great desire may do much. Rome -wasn’t built in a day.” - -She had listened attentively, almost hopefully, until those last -words. Then she knew that he was doing what Nels would have called -“stalling.” He did not believe that there was any chance for her. He -rose and went on about his tour of inspection, and Ruth sank down into -the empty chair. She did not work any more, but sat still, looking at -her work, but not thinking of it—not thinking of anything. She was -roused by seeing the other students filing out at the luncheon hour. -She did not want to see Nels and Dorothy; she would not go to their -restaurant, instead she would eat the “cheap and wholesome” lunch -offered in the building. There she would be with strangers. She ate -something, she did not know what, and returned to her life class, but -again she could not work. She was beginning to think definitely now. -She had no talent—no future. If she could not be a great artist, a -great painter, there was nothing in life for her. She didn’t want -anything else, not even love. If she could come to Terry with a great -gift, she would not stop hoping that he would love her, but to be just -an ordinary woman—just a wife. If she was not to be a great painter, -then what was she to be? Very carefully she went over every word of -the professor. He had admitted that it was difficult to say exactly -whether she had talent or not; he had only said that he had discovered -no signs of it. Yet he was only one man. Thousands of geniuses in -every field of endeavour had been discouraged by their elders simply -because the new genius worked in a different manner from those who had -gone before. But that didn’t apply to herself. She had no new and -original methods. She changed her style of work every day in response -to something she had heard or had seen. She had no knowledge, no ideas -about art, in herself. Yet all beginners must be swayed by what they -saw and heard, influenced by this or that painter from day to day, -until they found themselves. Then she wondered if she had a self to -find. She was vaultingly ambitious; she was industrious and something -of a dreamer, but with all this Ruth was practical. She thought of -perpetual students—did she want to become one of them? That was what -it meant, following a muse who had not called. Art is not chosen. It -chooses its own. Dorothy Winslow was wrong—fame could not be achieved -merely by ambition, energy, and determination—neither is genius the -art of taking pains, she thought. Sometimes it is achieved with -infinite carelessness. The hour was afternoon, class was over and she -had not touched crayon to paper. Not until she was on the street, -hurrying out to avoid speaking to Nels or Dorothy, did she remember -her engagement with Terry. Mori’s was on Forty-second Street. If she -walked she would arrive at the right time. She was no longer curious -as to what Terry would have to say. Gloria and George did not interest -her. She was arrived at branching roads and she must choose. She -realized that. Not that she could not keep on with her studies, -regardless of whether she had talent or not. She could, for she was -responsible to no one. No one counted on her to make good, nor was -there any one to warn her against mistakes. She only knew that she did -not want to devote her life to something for which she was not -intended. She did not want to fail, even less did she want to be a -mediocre success. She must live on Olympus or in the valley. It -occurred to her that her very thoughts were proof of her unworthiness. -If she were really a great artist she would not be thinking of either -fame or failure, but only of her work. She was walking rapidly so that -she arrived at Mori’s before five. She glanced at the watch on her -wrist before entering and he was beside her, coming from the opposite -direction. - -“On time,” he said with mock surprise. - -“No, I am ahead of time. I just came from the League.” - -They went in together—a big room crowded with innumerable tiny tables -and many people, yet when she found herself seated opposite him, pouring -tea, they seemed to be quite alone together. Perhaps it was because the -tables were so tiny, perhaps because of the small, soft, rose-shaded -light on each one, that she seemed to be nearer him than ever before, -both physically and spiritually. - -“You were looking quite downcast when we met; I hope you aren’t worrying -too much about George,” he said. - -His tone was friendly, intimate, comforting, inviting confidence. - -“No, it’s not that. Much more selfish. I was thinking of my own -troubles.” - -“I didn’t know you had any.” - -“Yes, it’s art. You know I have thought for years—three years to be -exact—that I would one day be a great painter and today I discovered -that I have no talent.” - -“You can’t know that; you’re discouraged over some little failure. I -don’t know anything about art, but you’ve only been studying a few years -and that’s not time enough to tell.” - -“Yes, it is—I’ve compared my work with that of other students and I’ve -been afraid for some time. Today I asked Burroughs, one of the -instructors, and now I know.” - -“But that’s only one man’s opinion. Just what did he say?—I know the -pedagogue-al formula, three words of praise and one of censure to keep -you from being too happy, or three words of adverse criticism and one of -praise to keep you from being too discouraged. Wasn’t it like that?” - -“No; he just said very frankly that he would not say that I had no -future at all, but he did say that if I had any my work at school had -never given any indication of it. He said my portraits looked like -cartoons, and then he remembered those awful sketches in the _Express_—” -She stopped embarrassed. - -“You never will live that down, will you?” said Terry, smiling. - -“That isn’t fair, I didn’t mean that, only it’s all so discouraging, to -want to paint masterpieces and to be told to draw cartoons.” - -“Did he tell you that?” Terry spoke eagerly. - -“Not in so many words, but that’s what he meant.” - -“Then he rather admired your ability to do cartoons?” - -“I suppose so.” - -“Then why don’t you go in for that? One must do something, you know—play -some game and that is better than most.” - -Ruth did not answer. - -“If you’d like I dare say you could do theatrical caricatures for the -Sunday _Express_ every week. It wouldn’t take much time. Of course you’d -soon get as fed up with the theatre as a dramatic critic, but it would -be interesting for a time and you could continue to study, to take time -to prove whether or not you have talent. If you say I may, I’ll speak to -Daly about it the next time I see him.” - -“I’d like it I think—after all, as Mr. Courtenay said, it’s better to be -a good cartoonist than a bad painter, and I can always keep on studying. -It will not be exactly giving up my ambition, only I won’t be gambling -everything on it.” Then, as if half ashamed of her surrender, and -wishing to change the subject, “But we didn’t intend to talk about me, -we were going to talk about Gloria, weren’t we?” - -“Is it absolutely necessary that we should have something very definite -to talk about?” he asked, smiling. “Suppose I just asked you to meet me -for tea, because.” - -Was he teasing her, she wondered. - -“But now that we are together, because, let’s talk about Gloria. I won’t -know anything more about Professor Pendragon until Sunday. I’m going -there with Dorothy Winslow, who is going to do a portrait of him, but in -the meantime I’d feel very much happier if he was out of the house, or -if not George, at least the snake. Couldn’t you kill it, Terry? That -might make George so angry that he’d leave. And anyway, the snake is the -important thing. Without the snake George would be comparatively -harmless. You must kill the snake.” - -“But, my dear girl, how do you propose that I am to make away with -George’s little pet? It belongs to George, you know. I don’t even know -where he keeps it, and if I did it is his property and it wouldn’t be -legal, you know—” - -“I wish you wouldn’t laugh at me—” - -“I’m not laughing at you. Even if I can’t quite believe all the things -that you believe, I can still see that the situation is serious, but I -can’t see how killing the snake would help any. My idea is a bit -different and perhaps quite as bizarre in its way. I’ve been thinking -that if we could bring Gloria and Professor Pendragon together again, -then he would take her away from George and the snake and save us the -trouble of taking George and the snake away from her.” - -“It sounds good, but there’s no way to do it. I’ve given Gloria my word -that I’ll not mention her name to him and the other day she even made me -promise not to mention his name to her again.” - -“Even so, there must be other people who know both of them.” - -“He’s only been in America two years—they’d move in different circles, -naturally.” - -“Yes, but circles cross—and look here, those pictures will be coming out -soon.” - -“I don’t imagine he goes to the movies, certainly not now that he’s -ill.” - -“Yes, but he reads the newspapers; he’ll see her pictures.” - -“But that isn’t meeting her. If he’s at all like Gloria, he’ll be too -proud to look her up; besides we may be talking nonsense. How do we know -that they don’t really hate each other?” - -“That’s not the worst. People don’t usually hate over ten years. They -may be utterly indifferent. I realize that possibility, but I don’t -believe they are indifferent. It’s all just guessing.” - -“The simplest way would be to get rid of the snake,” persisted Ruth. - -“Yes, I know, but who’s to do it, and how?” - -“You’re to do it, and I suppose that I, being in the house, should plan -the means—find out where he keeps his pet and how to kidnap it.” - -“Even if it has the significance you suppose, what’s to prevent him -getting a new one?” - -“They don’t sell them in the department stores, you know,” said Ruth, -smiling. - -“Let’s wait until you see Pendragon again before we do anything rash,” -Terry closed the discussion. - -He came home with Ruth, who wondered if Gloria would observe them coming -together, and if it might not wake in Gloria some latent jealousy. - -“I’ve persuaded Ruth to take up cartooning as a profession,” he -announced. His putting it into words like that before all of them seemed -to make it final. - -“You mean those political things of fat capitalists and paper-capped -labouring men?” asked Ben Stark. - -“Certainly not,” said Terry. “You’re horribly behind the times. That -sort of thing isn’t done. If she goes in for political cartoons at all -she will draw pictures of downtrodden millionaires defending themselves -from Bolsheviki, rampant on a field of red, or of a mob of infuriated -factory owners throwing stones at the home of a labour leader—she may -draw a series of pictures showing in great detail how a motion picture -actress makes up to conceal the wart on her nose before facing the -camera.” - -“It isn’t at all settled yet,” said Ruth. “I may not be able to get a—a -job.” She hated the word, but pronounced it in a perfect fury of -democratic renunciation. - -“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble,” said Terry. “There’s always a -demand for that sort of thing.” - -Altogether, however, the announcement produced surprisingly little -comment from Gloria and her friends. They seemed to take it as a matter -of course, like Gloria’s going into motion pictures. She had been, -despite her fears, rather successful, and had been offered a new -contract, which, however, she was unwilling to sign until she knew more -about the production of Terry’s comedy. If Terry’s play really got a New -York production, Gloria would be only too glad to desert the camera. - -The revelation of Ruth’s duplicity to Professor Pendragon was threatened -in a most unexpected manner, Sunday morning. First Dorothy called for -her at the house, and this time, manifested more curiosity about her -surroundings than she had done previously, because this time her mind -was not on the more important matter of frocks. - -“Who do you live with here?” she asked Ruth, as she waited for her to -put on her hat and coat. - -Ruth hesitated; she hated deception of any kind, or making mysteries. -After all it was very silly of Gloria. If one must leave ex-husbands -scattered around the world, one should contemplate the possibility of -running across them now and then with equanimity. And then the stupid -idea of concealing their relationship. It was all most annoying. - -“With a woman who was a friend of my father,” she answered at last, but -Dorothy was not to be put off so easily. - -“I mean what’s her name?” she asked with frank curiosity. - -“Gloria Mayfield—she’s really my aunt,” said Ruth with a desperate -realization that she might as well speak now as have her secret come out -later under less favourable circumstances. After all, Dorothy didn’t -know that Pendragon was one of Gloria’s husbands and she might not -mention their relationship to him anyway. - -“The actress?” asked Dorothy, with a rising inflection composed of -astonishment, envy, and doubt in her voice. - -“Uh—huh.” She tried not to be pleased at the look in Dorothy’s blue -eyes. - -“She’s in pictures, isn’t she, now? I saw her picture in at least three -newspapers this morning.” - -“I don’t know—I’ve not seen any newspapers this morning,” she answered. - -“Will I meet her?” asked Dorothy. She was a most distressingly natural -and unaffected person. She always said what she thought and asked for -what she wanted without the slightest effort at concealment. - -“I dare say you will if you come often enough. She’s asleep now, but -she’s not at all difficult to meet.” - -“Perhaps I could paint her,” again suggested Dorothy. - -“I don’t think Gloria could sit still long enough.” - -Things were developing too rapidly for Ruth. She had known that Dorothy -would be interested, but she had not thought that her interest would -take this turn, though she might have guessed, for Dorothy looked at -everything and every person as so much available material. She worked -incessantly with both hands and brain. She didn’t just study art; she -lived it in the most practical manner possible. She was becoming quite -well known as a fashion artist and could have been busy all the time, -had she not continued her studies. As it was she did quite as much work -as many fashion artists who devoted all their time to it. And she never -for a moment let herself think that being a fashion artist today would -debar her from becoming a famous portrait painter tomorrow. She was -building high hopes on Professor Pendragon. - -On the way to his hotel Ruth told her about her decision to go in for -cartooning professionally, and she rather hoped that Dorothy would -discourage her, but she was disappointed. - -“Splendid! You’re doing the right thing. You know I don’t think you’ll -ever get any place with painting. Nels thinks that, too, but you have a -genius for caricature. Those things in the _Express_ were really clever. -Lots of character and good action. You’ll be famous.” - -“Famous!” Ruth put as much scorn as possible into the one word. - -“Of course—beginning with Cruickshank there have been ever so many -caricature artists in the last two centuries whose names will last as -long and longer than most of the painters.” - -Ruth did not respond to this. She was wondering if after all she might -not one day, not only be reconciled to the work destiny had given her, -but be actually rather proud of it. - -They were expected by Professor Pendragon and were conducted immediately -to his apartment, but when the boy knocked at his door, he did not open -it as on the former occasion, instead they were met by a white uniformed -nurse. - -“Professor Pendragon begs to be excused from his appointment. He is very -much worse. The paralysis has extended from his knee to his hip. He -asked me to say that he will be glad to make good his promise as soon as -he is well.” - -The effect of this announcement was bad enough on Dorothy, who naturally -was bitterly disappointed, but its effect on Ruth was much worse. -Professor Pendragon’s misfortune had fallen upon him on the night that -she first watched George, and a repetition of George’s ceremonial had -brought with it the increased misfortune to him that she had feared. She -was eager to hurry away and find an opportunity to tell Terry of this -new development, but Dorothy lingered at the door, expressing sympathy, -which Ruth suspected was more for herself than for Professor Pendragon. - -Professor Pendragon called to the nurse to let them come in. He was -propped up on a chaise longue, with newspapers and the remains of -breakfast scattered about on the floor and on a low table beside him. -His face was very pale and Ruth thought that he looked as if he had not -slept. She tried not to look at some photographs of Gloria prominently -displayed on the scattered sheets. Evidently he had seen them, so now he -knew that she was in New York, or at least in America. - -“I’m awfully sorry to disappoint you and myself. But you see a man can’t -have his portrait painted in a pose like this,” he said. “I can’t -imagine what’s wrong with me, but of course it won’t last long. A friend -of mine has asked me out to his place in the Berkshires and I think I’ll -go. Perhaps this may be the result of nerves, and anyway, lots of cold -air and altitude and quiet can’t do any harm. When I return I’ll be very -glad to make good, but perhaps by that time you will have so many -commissions that you won’t have time for me.” - -“No chance,” said Dorothy. “I shall be waiting for you.” And then: “How -long do you think it will be?” - -“You’ll know definitely after Christmas eve, next dark of the moon, you -know.” He was smiling, the smile that Ruth had grown to suspect hid a -serious thought. “Either the paralysis will have crept up to my heart, -or it will have gone entirely. I am waiting.” - -Dorothy laughed nervously. - -“What nonsense; of course you’ll get well and the moon hasn’t anything -to do with it anyway. We’re awfully sorry that you’re ill, and don’t -forget to let me know when you get back to town.” - -When Ruth took his hand to say good-bye she thought he looked at her -reproachfully, but she dared not meet his eyes. Dorothy was looking down -at the pictured face of Gloria that was smiling up at them, but -apparently she looked with unseeing eyes, for she did not say anything. - -In a way it would have relieved Ruth’s conscience if Dorothy had spoken. -She might then have discovered whether Pendragon knew of her deception -and what he thought. One thing she knew. Professor Pendragon was really -facing death—a mysterious, relentless death that could not be overcome -or even combated. When he died no one would search for his murderer—no -one would believe that his death was anything but natural, and the force -that had killed him would still go on through the world, too mysterious -and unbelievable for modern minds to compass. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -It was the first time that Ruth had seen Prince Aglipogue, though -apparently he was on the most congenial and intimate terms of friendship -with Gloria. He was at the piano now, accompanying himself, while he -sang in Italian. He had glossy black eyes, glossy red lips, glossy black -hair, smooth glossy cheeks and what Terry described as a grand opera -figure. He was a Roumanian, and while he sang magnificently, was a -passable pianist and a really good violinist, he was at present earning -his living as a painter. - -Gloria had finished her motion picture contract and was relaxing. Ruth -had just come home from the League and found Gloria, Terry, Billie -Irwin, Prince Aglipogue and Angela Peyton-Russell at the house. Ben -Stark had at last started out on tour, or he would also have been there. -Ruth often thought that her aunt’s house was more like a club than a -home. Of course Ruth did not immediately learn all the foregoing details -about Prince Aglipogue, whom Gloria called Aggie, and the others called -Prince. Her information came in scraps gathered from the conversation of -the others. She had slipped quietly into the room while Prince Aglipogue -was singing and was introduced to him when he had finished. He bowed -with surprising depth and grace for a man with no waist line to speak -of, and regarded her out of his glossy, black eyes. He spoke entirely -without accent, but constructed his sentences curiously, Ruth thought. - -As always when there were many people Ruth did not talk, but listened. -Mrs. Peyton-Russell had come to talk over with Gloria the details of her -Christmas party. As at present arranged she would have one more man than -woman, and it appeared that her party must be conducted strictly on the -Ark principle, with pairs. She was deeply distressed. She had invited -Billie Irwin in a patronizing burst of generosity, but Billie had also -secured an engagement that would take her out of town and could not -come. - -“I don’t know who to have,” Angela complained. “Of course there are -dozens of people I could ask, but I wanted this to be just our little -Bohemian circle—no swank, no society people—just friends.” - -No one seemed to mind this remark. George had come in with a tea wagon -and the Prince was engaged in the, to Ruth, alarming, procedure of -drinking whiskey and soda and eating cake. Witnessing this catholic -consumption of refreshment she could easily conceive that an invitation -to any party under any circumstances, would be welcome to him. As for -Gloria, she was accustomed to Angela, and did not mind her airs. Since -her marriage Angela had consistently referred to all her old friends as -“our little Bohemian circle,” a circle, to which she was constantly -reverting for amusement, after unsuccessful attempts to gain access to -the more conventional circles described as Society. - -“Angela’s heart is as good as her complexion,” Gloria always said, and -that was indeed high praise. - -“Just tea, please, Gloria,” Angela was saying. “I never drink anything -stronger any more—no, no real principle, but people in our position must -set an example, you know. Not sweets—I really don’t dare, well just a -tiny bit. You know there is a tendency to stoutness in our family.” - -“There is, I suppose, in that, nothing personal,” said Prince Aglipogue, -hastily swallowing a _petit fours_. - -Angela laughed gaily. She pretended to believe everything the Prince -said to be extremely clever. - -“But that doesn’t solve my problem,” said Angela. “You are all to come -up on the Friday night train. We’ll meet you at the station at North -Adams. You must be sure and dress warmly, because it’s a twenty-mile -drive through the hills and while there’ll be lots of robes in the -sleigh, one can’t have too much.” - -“It will remind me of Russia,” said the Prince. - -“You’ll be sure to bring your violin and some music,” said Angela. - -Prince Aglipogue assented carelessly. - -“I really think it will be tremendously successful,” said Angela, “not a -dull person in the party, only John has invited one of his friends—he’s -coming up early. I forget his name, but anyway I haven’t the slightest -idea what he’s like and he makes my party uneven. Come to think, though, -John said something about his being ill—lungs, I suppose, so perhaps he -won’t want to talk to any one. Anyway I’ll try and think of some one -congenial before it’s too late.” - -She rambled on, sipping her tea and forgetting her diet to the extent of -two more cakes, while George moved in and out among them apparently a -model of what a perfect servant could be. - -“Of course you’ll sing for us,” she demanded of the Prince. - -“You will inspire my best efforts,” he assured her, looking at Gloria. - -“And you’ll be sure to have some clever stories, Mr. Riordan.” - -Evidently every one would have to pay for their entertainment. Ruth -wondered if she would be expected to draw. - -“And the best part of the entertainment is to be a secret.” - -“I’m afraid it isn’t to most of them,” said Gloria. “Professional pride -got the better of George’s discretion and he told Terry and Terry told -Ruth.” - -“What is it?” asked the Prince, evidently fearing a rival attraction. - -“It’s George,” explained Gloria. “He used to be a music hall magician -and he’s going to do his tricks for us.” - -“Oh!” Prince Aglipogue shrugged his fat shoulders. - -“You won’t be so scornful when you’ve seen him. He was one of the best -and if he hasn’t forgotten he’ll astonish you. George is a Hindoo, you -know, and he doesn’t need a lot of props to work with.” - -“And he is working here as your—as your butler.” It was indeed difficult -to classify George. His duties were so numerous and varied. - -“Yes, Aggie, as my butler, footman, and he will be cook and maid as -well, I’m afraid, for Amy has given notice. She’s leaving at the end of -the week, unless Ruth can persuade her to stay.” - -“Why Ruth?” asked Terry. - -“I don’t know. Servants always have favourites and while George is -devoted to me, Amy is devoted to Ruth.” - -“Devotion? Among servants!” Angela threw out her hands in a despairing -gesture and then launched forth on a discussion of servants to which no -one paid much attention, with the possible exception of Billie Irwin, -who listened to every one on every subject, showing her keen attention -to their words by sundry nods, smiles, and shakes of the head. - -Angela was taking Gloria away with her to dinner and Prince Aglipogue, -finally having consumed the last scrap of cake, and convinced that he -would not be asked to come with them, took his departure. Billie Irwin -went up to her room to rest, Gloria and Angela went away and Terry also -departed, leaving Ruth alone. She rather hated these evenings when -Gloria was away and she had to dine alone. Amy usually served her on -these occasions, George hardly thinking that one person at the table -justified his appearance. She was wondering whether she should tell her -not to trouble with dinner and go out, when George came in to take away -the tea things. Ruth was almost as much afraid of George as Amy, but she -nerved herself to speak to him now, because she questioned whether she -would again have such a good opportunity. - -“How is your pet?” she asked. - -“I beg your pardon,” said George, capturing a glass from the piano and a -tea cup from the floor with what looked like one movement. - -“I mean the snake that you use in your—in your tricks.” - -“I do not perform _tricks_ with the daughter of Shiva.” - -“But you said you were rehearsing the day Mr. Riordan and I looked in on -you?” - -“You knew that I was not speaking the truth.” - -As he talked he went on about his duties. There was in his attitude -toward her nothing of the servant. He did not pronounce her name once, -but spoke as one speaks to an equal. - -“Why should I think that you were speaking anything but the truth? If -you were not telling the truth I must speak to Miss Mayfield. I don’t -think she would like the idea of having a snake in the house.” - -He put down the cup in his hand and turned to her. - -“Miss Mayfield is well aware that the daughter of Shiva is with me. She -has been with me since my birth and was with my father before me, and -she is sacred.” - -“George, you ought to be ashamed to believe all that superstition—an -educated—” she stopped, the word nigger on her lips—“man like you. It’s -nothing short of idolatry.” She was trying to talk to him as she would -have scolded at one of her mother’s coloured servants. - -“You prefer the mythology of the Hebrews?” asked George. - -Ruth decided to ignore this. - -“And now you’ve frightened poor Amy so that she is leaving. That ought -to concern you, for it may be some time before Miss Mayfield can find -any one to take her place.” - -“That is of no importance, for on the first of the year the house will -revert to its original owner and she will not need servants. She will be -travelling with her new husband.” - -“Her what?” Ruth forgot that she was talking to George. She stared at -him wide eyed, unwilling to believe that she had heard him rightly. - -His blue lips curled up in a thin smile: - -“Certainly—wait and you will see that I am right. She herself does not -know it, but she will marry Prince Aglipogue on the first of the new -year.” - -“She will do nothing of the sort—she can’t—he’s fat!” - -Ruth was protesting not to George but to herself, for even against her -reason she believed everything George said to her. He shrugged his -shoulders, still smiling at her, and it seemed to her that the iris of -his eyes was red, concentrating in tiny points of flame at the pupils. - -“You are speaking foolishly out of the few years of your present -existence; back of that you have the unerring knowledge of many -incarnations and you know that what I say is true. Has she not already -had three husbands? I tell you she will have one more before she finally -finds her true mate. She has suffered, but before she knows the truth -she must suffer more. Through the Prince she will come to poverty and -disgrace, and when these things are completed she will see her true -destiny and follow it.” - -A mist was swimming before Ruth’s eyes so that she no longer saw the -room or the figure of George—only his red eyes glowed in the deepening -shadows of the room, holding her own. She struggled to move her gaze, -but her head would not turn; she tried to rise, to leave him as if his -words were the silly ravings of a demented servant, but her limbs were -paralysed. Only her lips moved and she heard words coming from them, or -echoing in her brain. She could not be sure that she really made a -sound. - -“What do you mean?” - -“In the whole world there are only two men who are fit to walk beside -her—and of those one is slowly dying of an unknown disease. He whom the -gods chose will soon be gone, but I remain because I have knowledge. In -the _Mahabharata_ it is written, ‘Even if thou art the greatest sinner -among all that are sinful, thou shalt yet cross over all transgressions -by the raft of knowledge,’ and the Vedas tell of men who armed with -knowledge have defied the gods themselves—” - -He paused and turned on her almost fiercely: - -“Do you think that I have renounced my caste, that I have lived with the -unclean and served the unclean for nothing—the price has been too high -for me to lose—but no price will seem too high after I have won!” - - -Ruth woke to find herself alone and in darkness, save for the light from -the street lamps that shone through the curtained windows. With her -hands stretched out in front of her to ward off obstacles she moved -cautiously through the room until she found a light to turn on. She felt -weak and dizzy, but she remembered everything that George had said. It -could not be true—it could not, but with her denials she still heard -George’s voice speaking of the raft of knowledge and she half remembered -the incomprehensible contradictions of Indian mythology—of heroes and -holy Brahmans who had actually fought with gods and conquered, but these -men had only won power through self-denial. Possibly George thought that -by living as a servant for eleven years he was performing -austerities—possibly did not know what he believed. Certainly modern -Hindoos did not believe as he did. His mind seemed to be a confused mass -of knowledge and superstition, ancient and modern, but one thing he -had—faith and absolute confidence in his power, and she remembered some -words she had read, when, as a child, she pored over books of mythology -instead of fairy tales: “All this, whatever exists, rests absolutely on -mind,” and “That man succeeds whom thus knowing the power of austere -abstraction, practises it.” - -She was roused from her thoughts by the entrance of Amy. - -“Ain’ yo’ goin’ eat dinnah? That voodoo man, he’s gone out, an’ I saw -you-all sleepin’ here and didn’t like to disturb yo’. Yo’ dinnah’s cold -by now, but I’ll warm it up—now he’s gone I ain’ ’fraid to go in the -kitchen.” - -“I’m not hungry, Amy, and I’m sorry you’re going.” - -“Dat’s all right. I ain’ so anxious fo’ wu’k as that. I don’ haf to wu’k -with devils. An’ yo’ bettah eat. You-all too thin. It’s a shame you-all -havin’ ter eat alone heah while Mis’ Glorie go out to pahties. She don’ -treat yo’ like folks. Dat devil man he’s hoodooed her. I’ve seen him -lookin’ at her with his red eyes.” - -She went on muttering and returned with dinner on a tray, and Ruth -knowing the uselessness of resistance dutifully ate, while Amy hovered -near. - -“Tell me all about it, Amy. What has George been doing now? I thought -you would be satisfied when I let you sleep upstairs.” - -“No, sir, I ain’ satisfied nohow. I wouldn’t wu’k heah or sleep heah -’nother night not for all the money in the worl’. Dat man he sets an’ -sets lookin’ at nothin’ an’ then he runs knives inter his hans—an’ he -don’ bleed. He ain’ human—that’s what.” - -“I’m sorry, Amy—I don’t want you to go and neither does Gloria, but of -course we can’t keep you. Let me know if you don’t get another place or -if anything goes wrong. Perhaps later George may go and then you can -come back.” - -“He won’t go. One mawnin’ you-all will wake up dade—that’s what goin’ -happen.” - -She shook her head, looking at Ruth with real tears in her eyes. -Apparently she thought she looked at one doomed to early death, and -Ruth, though she knew the threatened evil was not for herself, had long -since lost the ability to laugh at Amy’s superstitions. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -Terry Riordan arranged an interview for Ruth with the Sunday editor of -the _Express_, with the result that she found herself promised to do a -weekly page of theatrical sketches, beginning the first of the year, and -she discovered the unique joy of having real work which was wanted and -for which she would receive money. Also she discovered that association -with a newspaper and connection with a weekly stipend gave her a -prestige with her fellow students which no amount of splendid amateur -effort would have won for her. Dorothy and Nels told every one they knew -about “Ruth Mayfield’s splendid success,” and Professor Burroughs -congratulated her. - -“It is always sad to see a student with a real gift neglecting it for a -fancied talent,” he said, “and it is equally satisfying when any of our -students wisely follow the line of work for which they are fitted. We -don’t want to turn out dabblers, and too often that’s what art students -become.” - -Ruth would have looked forward to the beginning of the next year -eagerly, had she been thinking only of herself, for her new work was -throwing her much in the company of Terry Riordan, who was taking her to -the theatre every night, so that she would become familiar with the -appearance and mannerisms of the popular actresses and actors. Of course -he was doing it only because he was such a kind-hearted man and because -he wanted to help her, but even Ruth knew that if she had not been a -rather pleasant companion he would not have taken so much interest in -helping her. His cheerfulness puzzled her. He seemed so brave and -happy—but perhaps it was merely the forced gaiety of a man who is trying -to forget. - -It was not, however, her own affairs that interested her most. Terry had -found a producer for his play and despite the lateness of the season, -rehearsals for it were to begin in January. Gloria had been offered the -leading rôle, and with characteristic perverseness had said that she was -not at all sure that she wanted it, information that Terry refused to -convey to the manager. This, coupled with the fact that Gloria was now -constantly in the company of Prince Aglipogue, made Ruth remember -vividly her conversation with George. Her beauty, her restlessness, her -changeful moods seemed to increase from day to day. She was always kind -to Ruth, but she was very seldom with her. Invitations that a month -before would have been thrown away unread were now accepted and Gloria -dashed about from one place to another, always with Prince Aglipogue in -her wake. His ponderous attentions seemed to surround her like a cage -and she, like a darting humming-bird, seemed ever to be struggling to -escape and ever recognizing the bars that enclosed her. - -Terry and Ruth, returning very late from supper after the theatre, would -sometimes find her sitting in semi-darkness, while the Prince sang to -her, but in such brief glimpses there was no chance for intimate -conversation between the two women. Alone with Terry at the theatre or -in some restaurant, Ruth almost forgot the shadow hanging over the house -on Gramercy Park. Terry was so gay and amusing, so healthful and normal -in his outlook, and wherever they went they met his friends, until Ruth -began to feel like a personage. It was all very pleasant. Late hours had -forced her to appear less and less often at the morning class, but she -was always at the League in the afternoon and she began to wonder -whether she would not give it up altogether as soon as she actually -began her work for the _Express_. She had tried to tell Terry about her -talk with George; but a few hours away from George and his snake worship -and the sight of George in his rôle of servant had restored what Terry -called his mental balance, and he no longer regarded him as dangerous. -He was beginning to be a bit ashamed of even listening to Ruth’s fears. - -“It’s only natural that you should be nervous—that we should both have -been a bit impressed, it was so weird and unexpected, but after all -George is just a servant, and the snake is probably a harmless reptile, -such as one sees in any circus. I do not think that he is a bad servant -and that he does not regard Gloria as a servant should; he’s impertinent -and disagreeable, if you like, but I don’t believe he has the slightest -thing to do with Professor Pendragon’s illness. How could he?” - -He talked thus until Ruth despaired of securing his assistance. Terry -had given Gloria a contract to sign, which she persistently refused to -consider. Finally he appealed to Ruth about it. - -“Can’t you make Gloria sign it?” he said. “She seemed keen enough before -we found a producer and before the thing was cast, and now that she has -the contract before her, she seems to have lost all interest. I can’t -imagine what’s wrong. Of course temperament covers a multitude of sins, -but she never was temperamental about her work.” - -“Perhaps she’s decided to really abandon the stage,” said Ruth. - -They were having supper together—Ruth didn’t know where. One of the -delightful things about Terry was that he never asked her where she -wanted to go. He didn’t even tell her where they were going. He just -took her. - -Terry looked at her in amazement. “Leave the stage?” - -“Did it ever occur to you that Gloria might marry Prince Aglipogue?” she -asked. - -Terry answered with a laugh: - -“My dear child, you’ve thought so much about Gloria and George that -you’re beginning to think of impossibilities. Gloria wouldn’t marry a -man like that, and if she did she’d have to stay on the stage to support -him. The house, of course, belongs to her, but the income from her other -husband—I forget his name—would certainly stop if she remarried.” - -“I know; I thought it was preposterous too, but she’s always with him, -and George told me that Gloria would marry Aglipogue.” - -“Servants’ gossip, or perhaps he did it to annoy you. Did you tell -Gloria?” - -“No; I never get a chance to talk to her any more.” - -“If you told her it might make her angry enough to dismiss him. Gloria -hates being discussed. Is the Prince going to the Christmas party?” - -“Of course; he goes everywhere that Gloria goes. I know you think that I -am foolish and superstitious, but I can’t help thinking that George has -some power over Gloria—that what he says is true—that he’s forcing her -to marry Prince Aglipogue and that he is responsible for Professor -Pendragon’s strange illness. The first time I saw George with the snake -was almost three months ago—that same night Professor Pendragon became -paralysed; the next time was just a month later and at the same time -Professor Pendragon’s paralysis became suddenly worse. It was at the -dark of the moon—” - -The last words were spoken almost in a whisper and when she paused Terry -did not speak, but sat waiting for her to go on. - -“I know George hasn’t worshipped the snake since that time, for I’ve -been in the house every night and you can always tell because of the -incense that fills the hall and lingers there for hours. Christmas Eve -will be the next dark of the moon. I know, for I’ve looked it up. We’ll -all be in the Berkshires then, at the Peyton-Russells’. George will be -there, too—and I’m afraid—I’m afraid.” - -Terry still sat silent looking at her with an expression of helpless -amazement. His blue eyes were troubled and doubting and she knew that -while he did not quite disbelieve her, he was by no means convinced, -that her fears were justified. It was all too bizarre and unusual. The -only trace of fear in his eyes was for herself, not for Gloria, or -Professor Pendragon. She had been bending eagerly toward him. Now she -sank back with a little helpless sigh. Instantly Terry’s hand reached -across the table and caught her own in a comforting grip. - -“Tell me what you want me to do, Ruth; I’ll do anything. I’ll do -anything for you—anything in or out of reason. I don’t understand all -this talk about snakes and black magic, but whatever you want done, you -can depend on me.” - -The blood rushed into Ruth’s cheeks in a glow of happiness. Something -deeper than friendship thrilled in his voice. For a moment she forgot -Gloria, and believed that she was looking into the eyes of her own -acknowledged lover. Then she remembered. His words, even his eyes told -her that he did, but it could not be true. For a moment she could not -speak. She must think of Gloria first and herself afterward, but she -wanted to prolong her dream a little while. Finally she told him what -she had decided in her own mind was the only thing that Terry could do -for her. She knew that he did not believe that George was menacing the -life of Professor Pendragon, or that he was influencing Gloria to marry -Prince Aglipogue, but even though he did not love her, he would do -whatever she asked. - -“I want you to get me a revolver, Terry; I want a revolver—one of those -little ones—before we go to the Christmas party.” - -She did not quite understand the curious “let down” expression on -Terry’s face, when she made her request. - -“You don’t want to shoot George or the snake?” he asked, smiling. - -“I don’t want to shoot any one or any thing unless—anyway I’d feel much -more comfortable if I had a little revolver.” - -“You shall have one; I’ll call it a Christmas present; but can you -shoot?” - -“I don’t know. I suppose I could hit things if they weren’t too far away -or too small.” - -“If you accidentally kill any of your friends I shall feel morally -responsible, but I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance. Do you by -any chance want the thing to be loaded?” - -“Of course,” said Ruth, ignoring his frivolous tone. - -They went home together almost in silence. Ruth did not know what -occupied Terry’s thoughts, but she herself was wondering if she could -find the courage to ask Terry to save Gloria from George and Aglipogue, -by marrying her himself. It was all very well to be unselfish in love, -but for some weeks at least it seemed to her that Terry had given up all -effort to interest Gloria. If he would only make an effort he might save -Gloria from the Prince and win happiness for himself, but despite her -generous resolves, she could not bring herself to advise him to “speak -for himself.” - -They could hear Prince Aglipogue singing as she unlocked the door of the -house on Gramercy Square. The sound of his voice and the piano covered -the opening and closing of the door, so that they stood looking in on -Gloria and her guest without themselves being observed. The song was -just ending—Prince Aglipogue at the piano, her eyes wide and if she -heard the music she did not see the singer. There was a trance-like -expression in her eyes and when, the song ending, they saw Aglipogue -draw her to the seat beside him and lift his face to kiss her, with one -movement Terry and Ruth drew back toward the outer door. - -“Guess I’d better go,” whispered Terry. - -“Yes; you saw George was right. They didn’t see us—don’t forget my -revolver.” - -She closed the door after Terry, this time with a loud bang that could -not fail to be heard and as she turned back she saw, far down the hall, -two red eyes gleaming at her, like the eyes of a cat. She wondered if -George had been watching too, and if his quick ears caught her whispered -words to Terry. - -Gloria called her name before she entered the room, almost like old -times, but Prince Aglipogue did not seem to be particularly pleased to -see her. - -“You were singing,” she said to him. “Please don’t stop because I’ve -come. I love to hear you.” - -“Thank you, but it is late for more music; and it is late, too, for -little girls who study, to be up even for the sake of music.” - -Even a week ago he would not have dared speak to her like that. He sat -staring at her now, out of his insolent, oily black eyes, as if she were -really a troublesome child. For a moment anger choked her voice and she -half expected Gloria to speak for her, but Gloria was still looking at -Aglipogue, the strange trance-like expression in her eyes, and Ruth -became calm. If Prince Aglipogue chose to be rude she could be -impervious to rudeness. - -“I’m not trying to make the morning classes any more, Prince Aglipogue, -so I can stay up as long as I like, but perhaps you’re tired of -singing.” - -It was Aglipogue who looked at Gloria now as if he expected her to send -Ruth away, but she said nothing, sitting quite still with her long hands -folded in her lap, a most uncharacteristic pose, and a faint smile on -her lips. She seemed to have forgotten both of them. It seemed -incredible that less than five minutes before Ruth had seen her bend her -head to meet the lips of the fat singer—incredible and horrible. - -“Yes, I’m tired—of singing,” said Aglipogue after a pause. He rose and -lifted one of Gloria’s lovely hands and kissed it. Simultaneously George -appeared at the door with his hat and stick. It seemed to Ruth that -under his air of great deference and humility George was sneering at the -Prince. Gloria, seemingly only half roused from her trance or reverie, -rose also in farewell and seemed to struggle to concentrate on her -departing guest. - -“Tomorrow,” he said, bending again over her hand. - -“Yes, tomorrow.” - -He went out without again speaking to Ruth, who waited breathless until -she heard the closing of the outer door. Gloria watched him disappear, -and then lifted her arms high above her head, stretching her superb body -up to its full length like a great Persian cat just waking from a nap. - -“What are you doing up at this hour, Ruth?” She spoke as if seeing Ruth -for the first time. - -“I went to the theatre with Terry, you know, and then we went to supper -afterward and I came in fifteen minutes ago. I’m not a bit tired.” - -“I am, horribly, of everything.” - -“It’s only Prince Aglipogue who’s been boring you. No wonder you’re -tired of him. If he’d only sing behind a curtain so that one didn’t have -to look at him, he would be quite lovely,” said Ruth. She spoke thus -with the intention of making Gloria tell what she really thought of the -Prince. Gloria sank back on her chair by the piano and rested her chin -on her folded hands, her elbows on her knees. Unlike most large women -she seemed able to assume any attitude she chose without appearing -ungraceful. - -“You don’t like Aggie, do you?” - -She was looking at Ruth now with something of her normal expression in -her eyes. - -“I don’t exactly dislike him,” said Ruth. “He’s all right as a singer or -a pianist or a painter, but as a man he is singularly uninteresting, -isn’t he?” - -“He is horribly stupid—I—” Suddenly her expression changed and she was -on her feet again, walking restlessly up and down the room: “I’m going -to marry him; he’s going to South America on a concert tour and I’ll go -with him—I’m so tired of everything; I want to get away.” - -Involuntarily Ruth had also risen, bewildered at the sudden change in -Gloria’s manner. Through the open doorway she could see George standing -in the dimly lighted hall beyond, his red eyes gleaming, fixed on -Gloria’s moving figure. She thought she understood, at least in part, -the reason for the sudden change and though she was trembling with the -unreasoning fear that assails the bravest in the face of the mysterious -and unknown, she forced herself to move across the room so that she -stood between George in the hall, and Gloria. She could almost feel his -malignant gaze on her back as she stood in the doorway, but she did not -falter. - -“If you do that, Gloria, it will mean that you can’t work in Terry’s -play—It will mean giving up everything—your career and your income. Does -Prince Aglipogue know that?” - -Gloria paused in her restless walk and looked at her from beneath her -troubled brows. - -“I don’t care about the career; I’m tired of the stage, but what -difference will the income make? It’s such a little one, you know.” - -“Still it may make a difference with Aglipogue, and if you give up your -career and your income you will be dependent on him. That should make a -difference to you.” - -Ruth wondered afterward where she got all this worldly knowledge and how -she was able to say it, with George’s eyes burning into her back. - -“What a practical child you are; but let’s not talk about it tonight. -I’m awfully tired. We were going to announce our engagement Christmas -Eve, but there’s no harm in your knowing.” - -“Gloria, you can’t—you can’t marry him. He’s fat and selfish and -horrid!” In her excitement she forgot George and moved to Gloria’s side. -“You don’t know what you’re doing.” - -Gloria’s eyes looked across her, over her head and the trance-like look -came back into them. - -“When you are as old as I you will know that physical appearance doesn’t -matter much. I don’t know why I’m marrying Aggie, but it seems to be -happening. So many things happen—I need a change; I want to travel in a -new country. Besides it’s all fixed—it’s too late now—too late—” - -She threw off Ruth’s detaining hands and swept past her through the hall -and up the stairway, and Ruth did not try to follow her. Somewhere -beyond the shadows she knew that George was still standing, his red eyes -gleaming like those of a cat. She waited a few minutes to give Gloria -time to go to her room and to give him time to retire to his own -quarters. She did not want to pass him in the hall, and when at last she -also went up, she thought she caught the sounds of suppressed sobs, -coming from Gloria’s room. It would do no good to stop. In two days more -they would be going to the Berkshires and there either George would win -in his curious twisted plans or she would defeat him. If only she knew -where to find Professor Pendragon. Terry could not help. He was too -modern and practical. He couldn’t understand, his mind was fresh and -clean and honest and western. If she could see Pendragon again she would -tell him everything and he might help. She decided to telephone his -hotel in the morning and find out, if possible, just where he had gone. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -When Ruth telephoned Professor Pendragon’s hotel she found that he had -not left any address and would not be expected back before the first of -the year. Her next thought was of Nels Zord. He might know, but much to -her surprise she did not see Nels at the League, and sought out Dorothy -instead. She found her easily enough, but it was not until she had asked -about Nels that she observed that Dorothy’s eyes were red and her cheeks -swollen as if from recent weeping. It was luncheon time and they were -walking toward their restaurant together. - -“I don’t know where Nels is,” said Dorothy. Her voice was almost a sob. - -“Haven’t you seen him today?” - -“I never see him any more—haven’t you seen? He’s too busy with that -Alice Winn girl. Oh, you know her, Ruth, the insipid creature with the -carefully nurtured southern accent, who always has some highbrow Russian -or Swedish book under her arm, and begins reading it every time she -thinks a man is looking.” - -“I think I know the one you mean, but what about her and why is Nels -busy with her and why have you been crying? You _have_ been crying.” - -“I suppose I have; it’s most unmanly of me, but I must do something. All -men you know are irresistibly attracted to the weakest, cheapest sort of -women. They all prefer sham to reality, and they are all snobs at -heart.” - -“I’m afraid I don’t know much about men,” admitted Ruth. - -“Well, I’m telling you about them now. You might as well know. And the -better a man is the more he likes imitation women, and Nels is just as -bad as any of them, and that’s why he’s fallen so hard for Alice Winn. -First he fell for the highbrow books. He really believes that she reads -’em. Then she told him all about her aristocratic family in Kentucky, -who fought and fought to keep her from being an artist, but she must -‘live her own life,’ even if she had to brave the hardships of a great -city with not a thing to live on except the income she gets from home. -And then, of course, she scorns everything except real art—she would -never stoop to a fashion drawing or commercial art of any kind. Her -artistic temperament would not allow it. She is working on a mural—yes, -indeed—of course it never has and never will go any further than a rough -sketch and a lot of conversation in her comfortable studio, but Nels -doesn’t know that. He and every other man she talks to believes that she -is really working on something big. And then she is _such_ a lover of -beauty. She must have flowers in her studio at all times. She simply -couldn’t live without flowers. And Nels—Nels who never bought me even a -bunch of violets at Easter time—is pawning his clothes to buy her roses. -I think that’s what hurts most. I’m just a practical old thing, and I’ve -never wanted to do anything at all but work with him and for him, and go -to dinner with him ‘Dutch’—and so you see I am of no value—and she, who -has never done a useful thing in her whole life, has completely -fascinated him. He isn’t worth all this. I ought not to care—I don’t -care—I’m just plain angry.” - -Tears were overflowing the blue eyes of the “just plain angry” girl and -Ruth feared a public exhibition. They had reached the restaurant and she -feared the curious eyes inside. - -“Let’s not eat here today, Dorothy. You need a change, that’s all, so -why not take the afternoon off? We could go to your studio. I’ve never -been there, you know. Couldn’t we have lunch there?” - -“We could buy it at the ‘delly’ ’round the corner,” said Dorothy, her -round face clearing a bit. - -“And let’s buy some flowers first; if Nels shows up we can pretend a man -sent them.” - -“That’s ‘woman stuff’; I don’t think I ought—but—” - -“Just for this once,” persisted Ruth, leading the way into the nearest -flower shop. - -“I don’t like to have you spend money on me. I don’t like to have -anything that I can’t pay for myself.” - -“That’s selfish, and vain. Perhaps that’s why Nels is with Alice.” - -“I suppose so. You know they’re so stupid, men. They believe everything -you tell them. I’ve told Nels what a practical worker I am and how -independent I am and he believes me, without ever trying to prove it; -and she’s told him that she is an impractical, artistic dreamer and he -believes that, too, though if he’d only think for just a minute he’d -know that she’s a mercenary schemer, not an artistic dreamer.” - -“Do you like these pink ones?” - -“Oh, and those unusual pale yellow roses—the combination is wonderful, -and the scent.” - -She buried her nose in the flowers in an ecstasy of delight that made -her forget that Ruth was paying for them. - -“Now we’ll ride down on the ’bus,” said Ruth. “But you haven’t told me -just where Nels is—is Alice Winn pretty?” - -Questions of this sort are perfectly intelligible to women and Dorothy -answered in her own way as they climbed into the Fifth Avenue ’bus. - -“He’s gone with her to the Met—to look over some costumes she wants to -use in this mural she’s supposed to be doing; and of course she is -pretty—an anæmic, horrid, little dark-skinned vamp—and she lisps—all the -time except when she forgets it or when there aren’t any men around. -It’s not nice for me to talk like this. Probably she’s all right, only -she isn’t good for Nels. I know that. What I’m afraid of is that she’ll -use him. Lots of girls do, you know, use men like that. She’ll ask his -advice about things and before he knows it he’ll be painting her old -mural for her and she’ll sign it, and he’ll sit back and let her get the -credit for doing it. It’s been done before, you know.” - -“Nels is too sensible for that. He’ll wake up before it’s gone that -far.” - -“I don’t think so; she _is_ attractive to men.” - -They fell silent for a short space, looking out at the grey December -streets on which no snow had yet fallen. Now a thin, cold rain began -falling, making the pavements glisten, and giving even well-dressed -pedestrians a shabby appearance as they hurried up and down—a thick -stream of holiday shoppers. - -“My room isn’t much, but at least I live on Washington Square and that -is something,” said Dorothy. “I love it all the year round, even now -when there aren’t any leaves on the trees or any Italian children -playing and when this beastly rain falls. I rather like rain anyway, but -I’m awfully glad we’ve got the roses. We’ll get off here and walk around -to the ‘delly’ first. It’s on Bleecker Street. I’m not supposed to cook -anything in my room, but of course I do. All of us do.” - -Their purchases, though guided by the practical Dorothy, were rather -like a college girl’s spread. Dorothy lived in an old-fashioned white -house on the south side of the square—a house in which every piece of -decrepit furniture seemed to have been dragged from its individual attic -and assembled here in vast inharmony. Yet mingled with the 1830 -atrocities were a few “good” things, left from time to time by artists -and writers whom prosperity had called to better quarters. Dorothy lived -at the top of the house in one of the two rooms facing the square. - -“You see it isn’t really a studio,” she explained apologetically. “But -it has got north light and the sloping room and that bit of skylight -makes it quite satisfactory, and then, too, I face the Square and can -always see the fountain and the Washington arch and the first green that -comes on the trees in May, and I like it. And just because we’re -celebrating I’ll put a charcoal fire in the grate and we’ll make tea in -the samovar, but first we must take care of the flowers.” - -For a few minutes she seemed to have forgotten all her troubles. - -“I do wish I had a pretty vase. It’s almost criminal to put roses in -this old jug. Don’t you think the samovar’s pretty? Nels did get me -that. Wait a minute; I’ll show you his studio. It’s the next room to -this and just like it. He never locks his door.” - -She stepped out, Ruth following, and pushed open the only half closed -door of a room, the exact counterpart in size of her own, but rather -more comfortable as to furnishings. - -“That’s her picture; she must have given it to him last week. I haven’t -been in his studio for days and we used to have such corking times -together—I worked here more often than in my own room and he always -seemed to like having me—” - -Fearing a return of tears Ruth hastily retreated to Dorothy’s room. -Besides she didn’t feel quite comfortable about entering a man’s room -during his absence and examining his pictures. - -“Let’s not think about her; it’s just a phase and he’ll recover and come -back to you,” she comforted. - -“You make the tea and I’ll spread this little table,” she continued, -removing a pile of sketches to the floor. - -In a short space of time there was a real fire burning in the tiny -grate, throwing a ruddy glow on the burnished brass of the samovar; in -the small room the roses shed a heavy sweet perfume and the two girls -chatted cosily over their tea cups. Dorothy smoked a cigarette. - -“Cigarettes are a party to me,” she exclaimed. “If I could afford to -smoke I might not care for it at all, but I can’t, so when I want to be -extravagant I smoke; it’s just a symbol.” - -Now that Dorothy seemed to have put her grief into the background Ruth -was beginning to feel restless. On the following day the party was to -leave for the Christmas party. They would arrive at their destination on -the twenty-third of December and the imminence of the solution of all -Ruth’s worries, for either good or evil, made her feel that she should -be at the house as much as possible. Could she have done so she would -have followed Gloria wherever she went. Most of all she wanted to find -out where Professor Pendragon was stopping; and she ought to telephone -Terry again to remind him not to forget the revolver. In her own mind -she was not exactly sure what she would do with the gun when she got it. - -“I think I’ll have to run along,” she said. - -“Oh, and we were having such a good time. I was beginning to be quite -cheered up. Wait a minute; that’s him.” - -Regardless of grammar, Ruth knew that the masculine pronoun could refer -to only one person. Down three flights of stairs she could hear a -tuneless but valiant whistle. - -“I wonder why he’s coming home so soon?” continued Dorothy. “I’ll shut -the door tight so he won’t see us. I’m not going to make it easy for him -to come back.” - -She closed the door as she spoke and the two girls waited, trying to -keep up a hum of conversation. Dorothy’s agitation communicated itself -to Ruth. - -“Will he come here?” she asked. - -“I don’t know; he always did before, but now, he may just be coming in -to get something and then dash out again to meet her.” She walked to the -window and looked out: - -“There’s no one down there waiting for him.” She came back to her place -at the tiny table. - -The whistle had mounted all three flights now, and paused a moment -before their door. Dorothy began talking unconcernedly. They heard him -enter his own studio. The whistle was resumed and they could hear him -moving restlessly about. A match was struck, then another; then silence, -then footsteps and a knock at the door. - -“Come in,” called Dorothy, and the door opened, disclosing a rather -shame-faced Nels, who, however, was determined to appear as if nothing -had happened. - -“Looks like a party,” he said. - -“It is a party,” said Ruth. - -“I hope I’m not intruding—I thought Dorothy was alone.” - -“We were chattering continuously enough for any one to hear us,” said -Dorothy. “Would you like a cup of tea?” - -“Thanks—I suppose that means, too, that I can come in and sit down and -share your gossip, and everything,” said Nels, seating himself forthwith -on the couch-bed—not a chaise longue—but an ugly bed disguised as a -couch—without which no cheap studio or hall bedroom is complete. - -Much is written about the “feminine touch” which makes home of the most -ordinary surroundings. Ruth thought of it as she looked at Dorothy’s -room. Perhaps, she decided, artistic women are an exception to this -rule. Dorothy had knowledge of beautiful things, more knowledge than the -average woman, but no one would have guessed it from the untidy -shabbiness of her studio. Only the bright samovar and the roses, thrown -into relief by the firelight, which with the same magic threw dusty -corners into shadow and seemed to gild the ugly, broken-down furniture -into beauty, threw a glamour over the place now and made it seem quite -different from the cheerless room they had entered over an hour before. -The rain was bringing a premature twilight which made the firelight -doubly welcome. Nels felt the change and looked about him as if in -unfamiliar surroundings. - -“This is certainly cheery,” he said, taking the cup Dorothy offered him. -“And roses!” He looked inquiringly at Ruth. - -“No, I’m not the lucky girl; some admirer of Dorothy’s.” - -There was an embarrassed pause. Ruth blushed because she had told what -in childhood she had called a “white lie”; Dorothy because she accepted -the deception that she would not herself have instigated, and Nels for -many reasons. - -“Whoever he is he’s not a poor artist,” he said. “I know the price of -roses in December,” whereupon he blushed more redly in remembrance. - -“I thought you were going to spend the entire day at the Metropolitan,” -said Dorothy, beginning to enjoy the situation. - -“So did I,” said Nels, and then with a sudden burst of resolution, “I -don’t mind telling you all about it—I’ve been an awful fool, and if -you’ve decided to play with some one else, I don’t blame you. We walked -to the Met this morning; Alice lives way uptown and I thought it would -be a pleasant hike, but when we got there she was quite worn out, and -then some fellow she knows came along with a car and offered to take her -home and she went; said the walk had made her too tired to work. Of -course he offered to ‘pick me up,’ too, but I preferred to walk and I -did—all the way from the Metropolitan to Washington Square—now you know -the entire story and can laugh to your heart’s content.” - -But neither of the girls laughed. Nels had evidently learned his lesson, -and they were in no mood to increase his discomfiture. - -“I wanted to see you to ask if you know where Professor Pendragon went -when he left town. He said some place in the country, but I’ve forgotten -where,” said Ruth. - -“Yes; I got a note from him only this morning. He’s visiting a friend of -his in the Berkshires. North Adams is the post-office and I’ve forgotten -the name of the house. One of those big country places with a fancy -name—wait and I’ll get the note from my room.” - -“He believed that about the roses and now that he’s sane again, my -conscience hurts,” whispered Dorothy when he had left them. - -“Let it hurt a bit; I wouldn’t tell him,” whispered Ruth. - -“Here it is,” said Nels, returning. “Professor Percival Pendragon, care -of Mr. John Peyton-Russell, Fir Tree Farm, North Adams, -Massachusetts—some address, but anyway it will reach him.” - -“Peyton-Russell—he’s at the Peyton-Russell’s?” - -“You know them?” - -“Yes, that is, I know Mrs. Peyton-Russell a bit; she’s a friend of my -aunt’s, and we’re going there for Christmas—going tomorrow.” - -“Really; that’s splendid, for you can save me writing a note. I hate -writing letters. You see Pendragon has been trying to interest this -Peyton-Russell in my work. He’s one of these men who’s spent two-thirds -of a lifetime making money, and now he doesn’t know exactly what to do -with it. He’s only been married about two years. I know Pendragon hadn’t -met his wife, but Mr. Peyton-Russell depends on Pendragon to tell him -when things are good, and when Professor Pendragon bought one of my -pictures Mr. Peyton-Russell thought he ought to buy one, too. If you’d -just tell Professor Pendragon that I don’t care what he pays for the -picture he has—I let him borrow one to see whether he grew tired of it -after it was hung—you’ll save me a lot of trouble.” - -“Of course; did you say Professor Pendragon hasn’t met Mrs. -Peyton-Russell?” - -“He hadn’t; but I suppose he has now that he’s a guest in her house. -John Peyton-Russell used to try to get him out to dinner in town, but -Pen wouldn’t go; he hates society. But he was ill, you know, and -Peyton-Russell was so anxious to do something for him, and promised that -it would be quiet—no one out there, and the doctor seemed to think it -might be good—he took the nurse along, of course, so Pen went.” - -“Did he say how he was getting on, in his last letter?” - -“Yes; just the same, no better and no worse, but didn’t say anything -about coming back at once. You’re more interested than Dot.” - -“No; only it seems strange, a coincidence, his being at the same house -we’re going to.” - -“While you’re delivering messages for Nels, deliver one for me too, -Ruth,” said Dorothy. “Tell him I’m waiting very patiently to make that -portrait and that when it’s finished if he wants to sell it to his rich -collectors he can. What is he, Nels, a sort of dealer?” - -“My word, no—he’s a—just a man who happens to have a little money and a -lot of appreciation. He’s just helping me to success, and helping -Peyton-Russell to a reputation as a collector—he is quite disinterested. -He could be anything, that man. I don’t know why he isn’t. Something -went wrong some place along his route, I guess, and he just got -side-tracked, you understand.” He finished with a wave of his hand. - -“Now I really must go—one must do a few things even before a short -journey.” - -Ruth was more anxious than ever to get away now, and neither Nels nor -Dorothy made any great effort to keep her. Nels was looking at the roses -with sad eyes and Dorothy was looking at him with eyes that made Ruth -fear that the secret of the flowers would not be kept long. Dorothy was -too generous and honest to want to keep up even so tiny a deception. - -The one stupendous fact that stood out in her brain as she walked -homeward was that Gloria and Professor Pendragon would meet. What would -they do? Would Pendragon leave or would Gloria come back to town? What -would they say to each other? How amazing that Mr. Peyton-Russell should -be a friend of Pendragon’s and that Angela should be a friend of -Gloria’s and that they had never before all met. Still it was -understandable. Angela had only been married a year. George would be -there, too, and Prince Aglipogue. - -She thought of Pendragon’s tall, clean-cut figure and fine face, and of -Aglipogue’s heavy countenance and elephantine form—the contrast. Surely -Gloria would see and withdraw before too late. It would be, too, the -time of test—the dark of the moon. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -It had been planned that they would all take the morning train together -for North Adams, Gloria and Ruth, Terry and Prince Aglipogue and George, -but Gloria, despite her motion picture experience, proved unequal to the -early rising. - -“It’s no use,” she explained to Ruth, who went to her room to wake her. -“I simply can’t get up this early in the morning. You go on and meet -Aggie and Terry at the station and tell them that I’m coming up on the -sleeper tonight. Tell George to go along, too, just as he planned. He’s -got his ticket and will take care of your luggage and the others’, and -everything will go just as we planned it except that I’ll show up -tomorrow morning.” - -“Suppose there isn’t any sleeping train?” - -“There will be; anyway as far as Pittsfield. Do go down and tell George -and explain to Angela when you get there.” - -What the trip would have been had Gloria not decided to wait for the -night train, Ruth could not guess. What it was was most unexpected. -George, being first told, was the first person to show sulky displeasure -at Gloria’s decision. For a moment Ruth thought that he was actually -going to knock on Gloria’s door and remonstrate with her, but even -George dared not do that, so instead he preceded Ruth to the station, -heavily laden with boxes and bags. He was there when she arrived, as was -also Terry, who laughed without any apparent regret at Gloria’s revolt. - -“I rather hated to get up myself,” he said, “but a holiday is a holiday, -and it’s part of the game to climb out of bed from one to ten hours -earlier than usual. Besides, think how tired we’ll be tonight and what -wonderful sleep we’ll get up there in the fresh air. There’ll be lots of -snow, too. A few flakes fell here this morning, and that means that up -in the mountains it will be thick and wonderful. I only hope it won’t be -too cold.” - -“Here comes Prince Aglipogue,” said Ruth. - -The Prince was approaching, his great bulk thrusting aside the lesser -human atoms in the station. Ruth was amazed to see that his curious -travelling costume was finished by a top hat and wondered whether he -would wear it in the train and in the sleigh from North Adams. Over the -collar of his fur-lined overcoat his huge face rose, placid and -self-satisfied, until he spied the waiting group with Gloria not among -them. - -“Has she not yet come?” he asked. “The time of the train is immediate; -we will miss it.” - -“Gloria has decided to take the evening train,” said Terry. - -“Then I also will wait.” - -“No, she especially asked that we all go ahead just as planned. Here’s -George to take care of everything,” said Ruth. - -“Did she send to me no personal message?” - -“No; just that,” Ruth took pleasure in watching his face, like a -cloud-flecked moon, in its annoyance. “We were all to go ahead and -explain to Mrs. Peyton-Russell that Gloria will arrive in the morning.” - -Just then the gate was opened and Prince Aglipogue, still frowning, -followed them reluctantly through it, in front of George and the two -porters, who were helping him carry travelling bags. - -When they were all comfortably disposed in their seats Ruth began to -fear that it would be rather an unpleasant journey, for Prince -Aglipogue, unhappy himself, was determined that the others should be, -too, if he could make them so. - -Only the amused light in Terry’s eyes gave her courage. Prince Aglipogue -began with a monologue about rotten trains, stupid country houses, -beastly cold and the improbability of Gloria’s coming at all, and -finally worked himself up into a state of agitation bordering on tears, -which would have made Ruth laugh had she not been afraid. - -“It is unkind of her to leave us this way. For herself she sleeps -comfortably at home, while I rise at this unchristian hour for her -sake,” he protested, more to himself than to the others, for he seemed -determined to ignore them. His next phase was one of annoyance at his -own discomfort. - -Why had not the Peyton-Russells themselves provided a drawing-room for -him? They were “filthy” with money, and he was not accustomed to -travelling in this public manner in spite of the fact that he was only a -poor artist. Then he became worried about his luggage, which had -consisted of a single dressing-case. He had entrusted it to George, and -who knew what had become of it? He lurched off in search of George some -place in the rear cars to find out. - -“I’d buy him a drawing-room just to get rid of him, if there was any -graceful way of doing it,” said Terry. “I’m afraid this is not going to -be the pleasantest of parties.” - -“For more reasons than one,” said Ruth. “I discovered yesterday that -Professor Pendragon is already a guest of the Peyton-Russells. What will -happen when Gloria arrives and they meet? Ought I to tell him, do you -think, that she’s coming?” She had been thinking of nothing else since -her talk with Nels and was delighted to have an opportunity to tell some -one. - -“This is going to be fun! How do you know, and why do you suppose Angela -Peyton-Russell is doing it—some idea of bringing them together again?” - -“I don’t see any fun in it with that beast Aglipogue along. And Angela -didn’t know—at least, I’m quite sure she didn’t, and doesn’t. Professor -Pendragon is a friend of Mr. Peyton-Russell and had never met his wife, -and I don’t think Angela was going to the house many days before her -guests. Mr. Peyton-Russell asked Professor Pendragon there because -they’re old friends and Pendragon was ill. He thought the air and quiet -would be good for him. He took a nurse along. I only learned yesterday -from Nels Zord. Unless Angela has mentioned the names of all her guests, -it’s possible that Professor Pendragon doesn’t know she’s coming. It’s -going to be awfully awkward—meeting that way. I suppose one of them will -return to New York. Perhaps he would if we warned him. Do you think I -ought?” - -“You didn’t warn Gloria, and you had time for that; I don’t see why you -should warn her ex-husband. Besides, it isn’t such an awful thing. -Ex-husbands and wives meet every day in New York and don’t seem to -mind.” - -“In a way I suppose I didn’t tell Gloria because she told me not to -mention his name again, and besides I’d like to have her meet him, -providing she didn’t make a scene. If she saw him again I don’t think -she could go on with the Prince.” - -“Do you think she really is going to marry him?” asked Terry. - -“Of course she is, unless you or some one stops her; I don’t see how you -can stand by quietly and see it done.” - -“It’s no affair—here he comes now.” - -Their conversation, thus broken off by the reappearance of Prince -Aglipogue, they turned to the scenery outside, while their heavy -companion, turning his back upon them as much as possible, pretended to -read a magazine. The snow that had been falling in thin flakes in New -York was coming down in great, feathery “blobs,” as Terry descriptively -called them. At first they did not see any hills, but the movement of -the train and the stertorous puffing of the engine told them that they -were going steadily upgrade. Now the ground was entirely covered with -snow, and the train twisted so continuously around the hills that -sometimes they could see the engine curving in front of them, through -the window. - -“If the snow continues like this, I’m afraid we’ll be many hours late,” -said Terry. - -“It won’t matter much. We’re to be there at two o’clock, and we couldn’t -be delayed more than a few hours at most, could we?” - -“You are pleased to be cheerful,” said the Prince. Evidently he had not -been so deeply engaged with his magazine as he pretended. “If I am -forced on this train to remain a moment longer than is necessary I shall -perish.” - -“They do get snow bound, sometimes, you know,” said Terry cheerfully. -“It won’t be so bad if we’re near some town. We can just get off and -spend the night in an hotel.” - -At this the Prince only glared. - -“That would be an adventure—I think I’d rather like it,” said Ruth. - -As if he could bear no more the Prince again departed. - -“Presently he’ll come back, saying that the air in the smoking car has -made his head ache.” - -“Don’t you want to go yourself for a smoke? You know you mustn’t think -you have to stay here and amuse me,” said Ruth. - -“I can live ever so long without a cigarette. Besides I’d rather go when -he isn’t there. I’ve been thinking about Gloria. Do you suppose she -could have found out about Pendragon and isn’t coming? It would be like -her. She could telephone that she’s ill or something.” - -“I don’t think so, but of course I don’t know. I don’t know anything. -Perhaps Pendragon himself has left and all my worry is for nothing. -Who’d ever think an aunt could be such a responsibility?” - -She said it so seriously and with such a wistful look that Terry -restrained his impulse to laugh. - -“An aunt is almost as difficult to chaperon as a modern mother,” he -admitted gravely; “but if the snow doesn’t stop snowing she may arrive -as soon as we do, and you’ll not have to decide whether to warn the -professor or not. After all, it’s no affair of yours. If they’re to meet -this way they will meet this way, and it may be rather amusing.” - -It was difficult to answer him when he talked like that. Probably his -words were prompted by bitterness, but it was maddening to have him sit -back as if he were helpless to do anything. If only he would make an -effort he could win Gloria away from her present course. He was -attractive enough to win any woman. Whether he talked or sat silent, it -was good to be with him. Then she remembered the gift he had promised -her. - -“Oh, you’ve forgotten! I was afraid you would.” - -“No, I haven’t. You mean the revolver, but I thought it was to be a -Christmas gift.” - -“It was—only I’d like to have it now if you don’t mind.” - -“What are you afraid of—train robbers? This isn’t a western movie in -spite of the wild nature of our journey.” - -“I know, but please let me have it. You don’t know what a comfort it -would be just to look at it.” - -“All right; just to show you how much I thought of it I didn’t pack it -at all. It’s here in my overcoat.” - -An eager porter anticipated his movement to reach up to the rack on -which the coat had been put, and brought it down for him, and he reached -inside the pocket and brought out a box which he put in her hands. - -For a moment she did not open it, though he waited, smiling. She was -conscious of the movement of the train, of the white flakes flashing -past the window, half obscuring the rolling, tree-crowned hills that -were fast merging into mountains; of the smell of the Pullman car,—a -combination of steam-heated varnish and dusty upholstery—and most of all -of Terry, seated opposite her, a half eager, half amused light dancing -in his eyes. - -“It’s rather an odd gift to give a woman,” he said as she hesitated. She -opened the box now, realizing herself more than anything else, as the -central figure in a little drama. Inside she found a leather case—pale -blue leather, more fit to contain jewels than a weapon of defence, and -inside that the tiniest revolver she had ever seen, an exquisite thing -with gold mountings. - -“Will—will it really shoot?” she gasped. “And it must have been horribly -expensive—you shouldn’t have done it.” - -Her pleasure was so apparent in her face that her words, which she felt -were ill chosen, did not really matter. - -“Of course it will shoot; and it’s loaded now, so please do be careful. -Here, I’ll show you how it works—see, you open it this way, and here’s -the way to empty the shells out—you see there are six—this revolves so -that when you’ve shot one the next one moves into place all ready; it’s -quite as deadly as a big one, I assure you. Do you think you’ll feel -quite safe with this?” - -“It isn’t myself I want to protect,” she answered, and just then, she -saw Prince Aglipogue returning, and some instinct prompted her to take -the gun from his hands and put it back in its case and conceal it behind -her. She need not have concealed it, for Prince Aglipogue was in no mood -to observe details. His oily, black eyes were standing out in his head -and his face had turned a sickly green. His three chins seemed to be -trembling with fright. - -“That nigger of Gloria’s; he’s in the baggage car with a snake—a snake -as big as”—he threw out his fat arms as if he could think of no word to -describe the size of the snake. His voice was a thin whisper. “You must -the conductor tell—it is not allowed. They do not know the trunk’s -contents—I tell you I am speaking truth—a snake—as big as the -engine—will you do nothing?” He grasped Terry’s shoulder and shook him. - -“It’s all right. We know all about it. Miss Mayfield knew he was -bringing it. He uses it in his vaudeville stunts.” - -“I tell you I will not go on—to travel with a snake—it is horrible.” - -“He’s always had it,” soothed Terry. “It was in the house on Gramercy -Square and never came out and bit any one. I guess you’re safe.” - -“If I had known——” He shuddered through all his fat frame and rolled his -eyes upward. - -“How is he taking it?” asked Terry. “It’s bad enough to travel with a -pet dog, but what one does with a pet snake I don’t know, and I’ve been -curious.” - -Prince Aglipogue, frightened into friendliness, broke into a torrent of -words from which they gathered that George had the snake in a trunk, the -sides of which were warmed by electricity; that the train officials had -no idea of the contents of the trunk, that George had gained access to -the baggage car though it was against the rules, and that the Prince, -being still worried about his luggage, though he had seen it safely -aboard, had claimed the right to follow him there and had found George -kneeling beside the opened trunk, from which the snake, artificially -warmed to activity, was rearing a head which the Prince protested was as -large as that of a cow. As he saw that his hearers were unmoved and that -they had known about the snake and seemed to consider it quite ordinary, -he was a bit ashamed of his agitation, though by no means convinced that -there was no cause for it. - -“It’s a harmless variety,” Terry assured him. “If it were dangerous -Gloria wouldn’t have allowed George to keep it in the house.” - -“For the bite, yes; it may be of no harm, but the shock to the nerves! I -should have been warned.” - -“We didn’t know that you were going into the baggage car,” protested -Terry. - -“What a terrible journey—look at the snow,” said the Prince, sinking -into his seat. - -They looked out. The movement of the train exaggerated the whirling of -the snow until it seemed like a frozen, white whirlwind, sweeping past -them, or a drove of wild, white horses whose manes brushed the window -panes. Beyond the whirling drift they could see nothing. - -Terry looked at his watch. Down the aisle Ruth heard a man asking how -late they were, but could not catch the answer. - -“Let’s have something to eat; even if we’re on time, we won’t want to -wait luncheon until our arrival. A twelve-mile drive through this -doesn’t sound very alluring, and we may die of starvation on the way.” - -Terry’s glance included both Ruth and Prince Aglipogue. - -“Food I cannot face after what I have witnessed,” said the Prince. -“Perhaps I may have something—a cup of tea—something to keep up my—what -did you say—two hours late?” - -He clutched the arm of a passing conductor. - -“Yes, sir; two hours late now—only two hours,” he answered wearily, -freeing his arm and passing on. Prince Aglipogue sank back in his chair -as if he would never rise again. - -“Cheer up; that’s not bad. What can you expect with this snow? Two hours -only means that we’ll arrive about five o’clock and get to Fir Tree -Lodge—I think that’s what they call it—in time for dinner. Better come -on and eat with us.” - -But Prince Aglipogue shook his huge head sadly, much to the relief of -both Terry and Ruth, and they walked out together. Ruth was beginning to -feel that she was having an adventure. Something in the restlessness of -the other passengers on the train, who were beginning to look frequently -at watches and to stop the train officials every time they appeared, -something in the sight of the whirling clouds of snow, the thought of -George, some place back there with his strange travelling companion, all -contributed to the undercurrent of excitement, and with it was that -comforting feeling of security that always comes from looking at storm -and snow from a place of warmth and shelter. - -Because it was the holiday season the train was crowded and they were -compelled to wait in the narrow hallway with other people in line before -they could get a table. - -“Isn’t it wonderful and Christmasy?” she asked, “especially as I’ve -already got one gift; see, I brought it with me. I’d like to look at it -again, only I’m afraid if any of the other passengers saw it they might -suspect me of being a train robber.” - -“Yes; you look so much like one. But perhaps it would be just as well -not to look at it now. I’m glad you like it.” - -“It’s beautiful, and somehow I feel safer—I mean safer and happier about -Gloria now that I have it.” - -“It’s a curious gift to give a girl, but I couldn’t exactly imagine -giving you—” - -“Table for two,” interrupted the steward. Ruth wondered what it was that -Terry couldn’t imagine giving her. - -Luncheon was like a party. Terry seemed to be making as much effort to -amuse her as he would have made for Gloria, or perhaps he was so -charming that he couldn’t help being charming all the time, she -reflected. He had the most wonderful eyes in the world, and the kindest, -strongest mouth, but she must stop looking at them. Still just for today -she might pretend that he was her lover and that they were engaged, -and—why not pretend that they were actually married and on their wedding -journey? The thought made her gasp. - -“Is something wrong? I’ll call the waiter.” - -“No, nothing! I was just thinking—of something.” - -“Something nice, I hope.” - -“Yes, no—I don’t know.” It was horrible to blush like that. If she were -only older and poised and sophisticated. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have -to be pretending. But she would pretend, no matter how bold and -unladylike it was to pretend such things and perhaps she would never be -with him again in just this way, and it would be nice to remember. - -In her reckless mood she surprised herself by saying things like Gloria -sometimes. They lingered as long as they dared because it was such a -good way of killing time, and when they had finished she made Terry go -back to the smoker. - -“They ought to have smoking cars for women,” she said. It was what -Gloria might have said. - -“But you don’t smoke,” said Terry, smiling. - -“I know, but I shall learn.” - -“Not right away, I hope,” he said, smiling. - -Ruth found that Prince Aglipogue had controlled his nervous shock to the -extent of having a very substantial lunch brought to him, which he -seemed to be enjoying as much as if snakes had never been created, but -he showed no more disposition to be sociable than before, for which Ruth -was grateful. It would have spoiled her illusion that she and Terry were -travelling alone together. Even she did not think he was gone long. He -came back looking rather sober. - -“Would you be very much frightened if we didn’t reach North Adams -tonight at all?” he asked. - -“No, not frightened; but why?” - -“It looks as though we couldn’t go much farther. We may have to stop. -You can see how slowly we’re moving now. If they can get to the next -station we can all stop at an hotel, but if not we may have to sit up -all night.” - -“I think it’ll be rather fun—only won’t Angela Peyton-Russell be -worried?” - -“She’ll probably have telephoned the station at North Adams and will -know that we’re late. Gloria was wise. The track may be clear by the -time her train leaves and she’ll arrive as soon as we.” - -“Then I won’t have to decide about warning Professor Pendragon. He’ll -learn the news less gently.” - -“He may have left,” said Terry. - -“I don’t know whether to wish that he has or has not,” said Ruth. She -could not bear the thought of Gloria’s marrying Prince Aglipogue, but -every hour it seemed to grow more difficult to entertain the thought of -her marrying Terry. Of course it wasn’t absolutely necessary for her to -marry any one, but she must be in a marrying mood, or she wouldn’t think -of Aglipogue, and she’d done it so often before that it ought to be -easier every time. If only she could ask Terry what he thought, but of -course she couldn’t do that. - -Prince Aglipogue had heard Terry’s first words and had lumbered off to -secure the first-hand information. All the other men in the coach seemed -to be doing the same thing. The snow had brought on a premature darkness -and the lights were lit so that now they could see nothing outside. One -could almost feel the struggles of the engine, which seemed to grow -greater and greater as the speed of the train grew less. Finally it -stopped altogether with a sound of grinding wheels. The conductor told -them not to be alarmed. It was nothing but a few hours’ delay. A steam -plough was already on its way. It was impossible to say how long. - -For a few minutes the passengers all talked to each other. Some of the -men thought that if they could reach the road they might hail a passing -sleigh that might convey some of them to the nearest town, but the road -was half a mile away and there would be few vehicles abroad in such a -storm, and the idea was abandoned. Terry went back to see how George was -faring, and reported him still in the baggage car, sleeping on the trunk -which doubtless contained “the daughter of Shiva.” - -People settled down to waiting; some of them read, and others slept, -among them Prince Aglipogue. He snored unrebuked. Ruth heard a man -inviting Terry to a poker game in the smoking car and was relieved when -he refused. It would have been lonely without him. She tried to read, -but the car was growing steadily colder. Terry insisted that she put on -her cloak, but even that didn’t help much, when she was stiff with -inaction. She tried to read, and finally curled up in the chair to -sleep. Her last conscious thought was a protest when she felt rather -than saw Terry wrapping his cloak around her. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - -Ruth awakened to the sound of grinding brakes and opened her eyes to -look into the eyes of Terry, which seemed very near as he bent over her. -Her muscles were horribly cramped. She did not fully remember until he -spoke. - -“We’ll be on our way in less than an hour, and if you want some coffee -you’d better hurry. The train was only prepared for one meal, but there -is some coffee and perhaps a piece of toast, if we get there before the -hungry mob has finished it,” he said. - -“You gave me your coat,” she said, looking down at the garment that was -wrapped about her. “You shouldn’t have done that; I had my own, and you -must have frozen.” - -“Not at all; I’ve slept beautifully. Did it keep you warm?” - -“Yes, but—” - -“That’s all that counts; come on and get some coffee.” - -“Can’t I even wait to wash my face, or shall I wash it afterward, cat -fashion?” - -“If it’s really necessary, you may; but you look remarkably clean and -fresh considering—a few grains of dust, perhaps—” - -He looked at her with his head on one side, smiling. - -She was on her feet in an instant, but discovering that one foot was -asleep, did not make such swift progress as she had expected. There were -two other women in the dressing-room. Yesterday they would have looked -at her as silently and impersonally as at the mirror or the wash basin -or the black “prop” comb that is always found in Pullman dressing-rooms -and that no one has ever been known to use, but now they were talking to -her and to each other. The stout lady who was going home from a day’s -Christmas shopping in New York was most voluble. She was worried about -her husband and children, especially her husband. - -“What I’ll ever say to Henry, I don’t know. He told me that I could do -just as well in Pittsfield as in New York. They have everything there, -and such accommodating sales people—not like New York, where every one -is too busy to be polite—and I didn’t get a thing I went after—and then -this horrible experience. It’s added ten years to my life—I know it -has.” - -“After all, it was only a delay,” comforted Ruth. “Suppose the train had -been wrecked. I think it was rather fun.” - -“Fun! Fun!” the tall thin woman fairly shrieked at her, and the eyebrow -pencil she was using slipped and made a long mark down her nose that she -had to rub off subsequently with cold cream, producing a fine, high -polish, which in turn had to be removed with powder, so thickly applied -that Ruth thought she looked as if her nose was made of plaster of Paris -and had been fastened on after the rest of her face was finished. It was -difficult to do anything in the tiny crowded space, but she finally -completed a hasty toilet and hurried out to rejoin Terry, who, in her -absence, had secured two cups of coffee and some toast and brought them -to their seats in the Pullman. - -“Where’s the Prince?” she asked suddenly, remembering his unwelcome -existence. - -“In the dining-car; he got there early and managed to secure what little -food there was aboard.” - -“Gloria’s train is right behind us,” he continued, “so we’ll wait for -her at the station and all go up together.” - -The increasing warmth in the train was beginning to clear the frosted -windows, and Ruth could see that the snow had stopped falling. A -wonderful pink glow was resting on top of the softly rounded mountains, -and where the clouds were herded between two high crests it looked like -a rose-coloured lake with fir trees on its banks. She forgot her -uncomfortable night and felt new-born like the sun. Everything was -simple and easy. Everything would be solved; Gloria would not marry -Prince Aglipogue. She certainly would not, for he came in now, unshaved, -with bloodshot eyes and rumpled linen. He did not speak at all, but -slumped in his chair, his chins resting on his bulging shirt bosom. - -“Have you seen George?” she asked Terry. - -“Yes; he’s all right. I only hope the daughter of Shiva froze to death, -but I fear not.” - -“Will it be long now?” - -“We’ll be into North Adams in less than an hour.” - -“I’m afraid you didn’t get any sleep at all,” said Ruth, observing that -his eyes looked tired. - -“Do I look as badly as that?” he parried. “Never mind, wait until we -reach Fir Tree Farm and I’ve had a mug of hot Scotch.” - -“What’s hot Scotch?” - -“It’s something that no one would think of drinking at any time except -the Christmas holiday—and the only thing that it seems quite correct to -drink on a Christmas holiday, especially in a country house. It’s hot, -and sweet and full of Captain Kidd’s own brand of rum, and spice, -and—oh, ever so many things. You’ll see.” - -“Perhaps Gloria won’t let me drink it,” said Ruth. - -“Don’t ask her—from now on you must ask me—and if I say you may, it’s -all right.” - -“Why?” - -“Haven’t I tucked you in and watched over you like a mother?” said -Terry. “That gives me the right to say yes and no about things. I shall -explain my new position just as soon as the stately Gloria steps off the -train.” - -“This is North Adams; I heard a man say so—” - -“Yes; we’re here. I wonder if there’s food in the station. I’m starving -already.” - -There was not food at the station, but there was a huge sleigh drawn by -two powerful horses, with bells on their harness that tinkled merrily in -the sharp air, and a man from Fir Tree Farm. Inquiry revealed the fact -that Gloria’s train would be in within fifteen minutes and Terry told -the man to wait. Meantime George appeared, looking as calm and -imperturbable as if he had just stepped out of the house on Gramercy -Square. They all sat on hard benches in the railway station, or looking -through the soiled windows at other passengers driving gaily off to -their homes—and breakfast, as Terry said quite wistfully. Prince -Aglipogue paced up and down in melancholy silence. Ruth could imagine -that he was preparing dignified reproaches to hurl at the auburn head of -Gloria. Her train came in finally and she stepped off swathed in furs, -exhaling the perfume of violets, followed by respectful porters and -greeted by George, who took possession of everything, before the -vicarious servitors quite knew what was happening. - -Gloria looked so fresh and beautiful, so perfectly groomed and so -rested, that they all felt shabbier than ever and more dishevelled. They -made a rush for her, and when George had stepped aside she greeted them -with bright smiles. - -“Hello, people. You see I was right! What a wonderful morning! Hello, -Aggie—you look as if you’d been in a wreck, and Ruth and Terry as if -they’d been, oh, on an adventure. I actually believe you liked it. What -did you sleep on?” - -“It has been a terrible experience,” Prince Aglipogue began, trying to -look reproachful, but only succeeding in looking ridiculous. He could -get no further in his speech, for Ruth and Terry were both talking. - -“We did enjoy it; wish you’d been along.” - -“We slept in our chairs, at least I did, but I don’t believe Terry slept -at all. You look gorgeous, Gloria—there’s a sleigh out there with bells -on.” - -“Come on, then; I’m famished. Didn’t you get up in time for breakfast -even if there’d been any to get? Have you eaten?” - -“No; only a cup of coffee—very bad, too.” - -They followed George, all talking at once, and piled into the sleigh. -There was straw on the bottom and many fur robes, the heaviest of which -Aglipogue managed to collect for himself and Gloria, who were in the -back of the sleigh. Ruth would have loved to sit in front with the -driver, but, of course, George had to sit there. - -“My word, why did you wear that?” Gloria burst into peals of laughter, -and lifted the silk hat from the head of Prince Aglipogue. - -“Naturally I supposed that the millionaires, your friends, would send a -conveyance suitable—an enclosed car. How was I to know—straw, farm -horses?” He almost snorted in his disgust. - -“You’re so funny, Aggie! Don’t you know there isn’t a motor built that -could drive through these mountains in winter time? We’re lucky that the -sleigh can make it.” - -Ruth noted with horror that in her laughter there was a tender note as -if she were talking to an attractive, big boy. Instinctively she turned -to look at George’s straight back, and long, narrow head. It seemed to -her that his ears were visibly listening. - -From somewhere Terry produced a long, knitted scarf, and this Gloria -tied around the Prince’s head, laying his hat tenderly down in the -middle of the sleigh. He looked like a huge, ugly boy with mumps, Ruth -thought, and Gloria, whose sense of humour even her Titania-like love -could not quite quench, burst into renewed peals of laughter. Perhaps -he’ll get angry and break his engagement, Ruth thought, hopefully, but -his resentment seemed to be at things in general rather than at Gloria. - -They were really very comfortable in spite of the keen wind and the -country round them was magnificent, hill melting into hill in endless -procession like the waves on a limitless ocean. The sky was a vivid blue -and the rich green of the fir and hemlock trees shone warm in contrast -to the white snow. The clear ringing of the bells on the horses seemed -like fairy music leading them over the hills and far away to some -tremendous adventure. Just what that adventure would be Ruth could not -guess, but she knew that Gloria would be its heroine and George the -villain. As for Prince Aglipogue, with his fat face swathed in the -scarf, she would concede him no other rôle than that of buffoon. The -hero? Perhaps Professor Pendragon, perhaps Terry, but she would rather -save Terry for another story. - -If only she knew whether Professor Pendragon was still at Fir Tree -Lodge. It would have been easy to ask the driver, who was an inquisitive -New Englander and was making desperate attempts to talk with George, -but, of course, she dared not do that because of Gloria. After all she -was not supposed to know anything about the guests. That was Angela -Peyton-Russell’s affair. - -The heavy snow rather helped than impeded their progress, but they were -all rather cold and tremendously hungry before they reached the gates of -Fir Tree Farm. Then there was a slow pull up to the top of the hill on -which it was built, a huge stone house, almost hidden in a forest of fir -trees. - -Prince Aglipogue shuddered when he looked at it. - -“How is it heated?” he asked in tragic tones. - -“Very old-fashioned—no furnace or steam heat—just fire places like your -dear castles in Europe,” said Gloria, which was not true, but served its -purpose of making him look even more melancholy and making Gloria laugh -again. She was quite the gayest person in the party and didn’t even -complain of hunger. - -Angela Peyton-Russell was not at the door to greet them, but a -maidservant and a man servant were. Angela had read some place that it -was not smart to greet one’s guests in country homes that way, so she -did what she thought was the correct thing. - -“Though she’s probably watching us from some point of vantage,” Gloria -whispered to Ruth, as they followed the maid up a wide staircase, at the -top of which she separated them, leading Ruth into what looked like the -most cheerful room in the world. - -“Your luggage will be up directly,” she told Ruth, “and as soon as you -can you’re to come down to breakfast. Mrs. Peyton-Russell has waited it -for you.” - -She left at once, evidently going to attendance on Gloria, who any -servant could see at a glance was the more important guest of the two. -While she was waiting for her bags Ruth warmed herself before a -wonderful wood fire, in front of which a blue satin-covered day bed -tempted her to further rest. Through the wide windows the tops of the -mountains that had looked so cold when she was driving to the house -resumed the almost warm beauty that she had admired on the train. Snow -always looks thus, infinitely attractive when one is safely indoors -before a fire, but rather cold and lonely when one is travelling through -it. She had hardly had time to remove her cloak and hat when a tap at -the door announced her bags, and another maid came in to help her -unpack. Ruth let her stay because she took rather kindly to being -served, an inheritance from her mother, who came from Virginia, and -because she might, without appearing too curious, learn something of the -other guests. - -“Are there many people here?” she asked. It sounded rather unsubtle -after she had said it, but the maid was evidently a country girl, not -like the one who had brought her up, who had probably come from the -Peyton-Russell town house, and she did not seem surprised, but rather -glad to talk. - -“Only Mr. and Mrs. Peyton-Russell, and Miss Mayfield—but you came with -her—you’re Miss Ruth Mayfield? and the foreign prince, and Mr. Riordan -and Professor Pendragon, a poor sick man who’s been here almost a month, -and a Miss Gilchrist, a singer. Perhaps you know her?” - -“No, I don’t think so,” said Ruth, almost sorry she had spoken, for the -maid seemed to consider it an invitation to talk at length. - -“You’ll be surprised when you meet her, Miss; she’s that odd—not at all -like you other ladies. She sings beautiful—do you want to change for -breakfast? I wouldn’t if I were you. The breakfast’s waiting—here, let -me smooth your hair—no, I want it for practice—one day I want to be a -lady’s maid—a personal maid.” - -She laid great stress on the first syllable of the word personal. - -“They say some of these personal maids in big houses gets lovely -tips—not that I want tips; I’m glad to serve some people, but a working -girl’s got to take care of herself. If they was all like Miss Gilchrist -life _would_ be hard.” - -She had a curious way of talking, with a rising and falling inflection, -stressing unexpected words and syllables, so that in listening to her -voice Ruth scarcely heard her words and forgot that she ought not to -encourage servant’s gossip. - -“She’s terrible homely for one thing, and I think looking at herself in -the mirror has soured her disposition. She wears her hair short, and at -first I thought it was toifide fever. You should seen her glare at me -when I ast. You better run right down; I’ll finish unpacking for you. -You look too sweet; clothes ain’t everything.” With which doubtful -compliment ringing in her ears, Ruth passed out, but instead of “running -right down” she knocked at Gloria’s door. She had the feeling that if -they were to walk down and meet Professor Pendragon face to face she -wanted to be with Gloria. She had a vague fear that Gloria might faint, -and she wanted to be there to bear her up. Gloria was herself all ready -for descent, but she had changed her travelling costume for a charming -frock. Hunger had doubtless prompted speed and a theatrical woman’s -facility had aided her. She looked stunning, Ruth thought, and her heart -swelled with pride at the thought that at least her Gloria was looking -her very best for the encounter. - -“Afraid to go down alone?” Gloria asked. “You needn’t be; you’re looking -ducky. I hope she has a millionaire for you to meet, but no such luck. -That would spoil ‘our Bohemian circle.’”. She mimicked Angela’s gurgling -voice perfectly. “I dare say those hungry brutes of men are waiting -now—if they have the grace to wait, which I doubt; I could eat almost -anything myself.” - -Angela, having done her conventional duty by not meeting them at the -door, now yielded to her emotions and ran halfway up the stairs to meet -them, hurling herself into Gloria’s arms and even kissing Ruth on the -cheek to make her feel that she was welcome and really belonged. - -“Come on, we’re having breakfast in the sun parlour; it’s the loveliest -room in the house. Every one is waiting. I’ve only two other guests, and -I didn’t tell them who was coming. You’ll be such a welcome surprise,” -she gurgled. - -“We will, indeed,” thought Ruth. - -“This is the library,” she waved her hand at an enormous room with -gloomy furniture, the door of which was open. “Cosy little place, don’t -you think? But here—” - -She paused dramatically before she threw open the door of the sun -parlour. She was after all such a fluffy, good-hearted child that her -pride in her possessions was no more offensive than the pride of a child -in new toys, and Ruth couldn’t blame her for being proud of the room -they entered. They all stood at the open door looking at it a moment -before entering—a long, narrow room, evidently running the full length -of the house from north to south, with two sides of glass, window after -window with drawn-back draperies of amber silk, and between each window -a bird cage, hung above a tall blue vase filled with cut flowers. At one -end of the room the breakfast table was spread and at the other, where -there were no windows, was a fireplace, round which the men were -standing—Terry, Prince Aglipogue and John Peyton-Russell. There was a -lady seated there, too, and in another big, wing chair Ruth thought she -could discern the top of Professor Pendragon’s head. - -They had satisfied Angela with their admiration, and as they came in the -three standing men advanced to meet them, and the woman turned her head. -Ruth looked at her, and her brain working by a sort of double process, -she had time to compare her with the maid’s description, even while her -heart was standing still because of the imminent meeting of Gloria and -Professor Pendragon. Miss Gilchrist did have short hair, not a fluffy -mass like Dorothy Winslow’s, but lank, dank, soiled-brown locks that -framed a lank, soiled-brown countenance. Her gown also seemed to be of a -dusty black, and Ruth could easily imagine that if her manners were no -more attractive than her appearance, she would be quite as disagreeable -as the maid described her. A closer view showed an out-thrust foot in a -long, flat, soiled-brown shoe, and Ruth remembered what Dorothy had once -told her: - -“Never trust a woman who wears common sense shoes—there is something -radically wrong with her.” - -She was being introduced to Mr. Peyton-Russell now. She had never met -him before. He was a large man who looked as if he took his material -wealth very seriously indeed and thought he owed some reparation to the -public from which he had extracted it, but he had a heavy cordiality -that was rather charming because it was so obviously sincere. - -“And now you must meet the others,” chirped Angela. - -Ruth realized for the first time that Angela was like a yellow canary. -The birds, singing gaily in the sunshine, made the comparison almost -compulsory. - -“You’ll have to come to them, and anyway, I always have cocktails in -front of the fireplace. After that lone, cold ride, you must need one, -though it is only ten o’clock in the morning.” - -They followed her across the long room, Ruth walking a step behind -Gloria, watching her face, waiting for the moment when she should see -around the high-backed chair. They must have seen him at the same -moment, for Ruth’s heart gave a little thump and it seemed that Gloria -missed a step, her body swaying just perceptibly for a second, while one -hand flew to her throat in a gesture that Ruth had seen before. Her -colour did not change, but with the sophistication of four months in New -York Ruth knew that Gloria’s colour did not “come and go” for very good -reason. The biggest change was in her eyes. They seemed to have turned a -dark violet and to have opened wider than Ruth had ever seen them -before, in a fixed stare. They were standing before him now. In her -anxiety about Gloria she had not thought of him at all. His face was -quite white and he seemed to be nerving himself for some tremendous -ordeal. - -“Pardon me for not rising,”—he indicated the crutches beside his chair. - -“Professor Pendragon’s not a bit like a real invalid—one forgets it the -moment one talks to him,” apologized Angela, rather tactlessly. “He and -John are such good friends that I used to be jealous of him, and when I -heard he was ill I insisted that John make him come, and do you know, he -wanted to run away before, but I told him what clever people were coming -and made him stay—aren’t you glad now that you’ve met Gloria Mayfield, -and Ruth?” - -“Miss Ruth Mayfield and I have met before,” he said. - -She was almost afraid to look at him. There was in his eyes a look of -questioning, almost of reproach. He had grown thinner and she wondered -how Gloria could be so heartless. Still it wasn’t all Gloria’s fault. -Ruth had seen her dark eyes melt with pity at sight of the crutches—pity -and a sort of bewildered fright, but when he spoke as if he had never -seen her before, the soft look faded and her eyes changed from violet to -the coldest grey imaginable, and her mouth set in a cold line, quite -unlike its natural form. - -“I’m sure you’ll like our little Bohemian circle,” she said. - -Ruth wondered how she dared make fun of Angela that way in her own -house. Somehow or other they had all been presented to Miss Gilchrist, -too, but she proved to be one of those persons one habitually forgets, -and who is perpetually trying to call back the wandering attention of -others, like a friendless pup rubbing his nose in the hands of -strangers, hoping some place to find a master. Of course Miss Gilchrist -hadn’t that kind of nose, but there was a pitiful look in her -dust-coloured brown eyes that simply plead for attention. Evidently -Terry saw it, for he was talking to her now, or perhaps he was only -trying to relieve what was an awkward moment for him as well as for -Ruth. - -The cocktails came and though Ruth had never seen Gloria drink anything -stronger than coffee before four o’clock in the afternoon, she took this -one in the way that Ruth had sometimes seen men drink, almost pouring it -down. They all moved off to the breakfast table then, Gloria with John -Peyton-Russell, Angela beside Prince Aglipogue, and Terry with Miss -Gilchrist. Ruth waited while Professor Pendragon picked up his crutches. -Evidently he could get about very well by himself. - -“I want to see you after breakfast—as soon as possible,” she whispered -to him. - -“The enclosed veranda at five o’clock,” he whispered back. - -She wanted to ask him what and where the enclosed veranda was, but there -was no chance. Every one was talking at once, it seemed; that is, every -one except Professor Pendragon and herself. She tried to catch Terry’s -eyes, but when she did, he only lifted one eyebrow as who should say: - -“You see, your anxiety was needless; they are sophisticated New Yorkers -and didn’t mind a bit.” - -But they did mind; she knew that. If they had recognized each other—that -would have been the sophisticated thing to do. Instead they had taken -the romantic course and met as strangers, though unlike strangers they -did not talk to each other. All around her she could hear snatches of -conversation. Terry seemed to have quite won the formidable Miss -Gilchrist. - -“Yes; I sing,” she could hear her saying; “but I prefer poetry to any of -the arts.” - -“Really?” said Terry politely. - -“Yes; I say that poetry is my chief métier. I have a poem this month in -_Zaneslie’s_.” - -“I must read it,” murmured Terry. - -“You should hear me recite to really appreciate; don’t you think that -one is always the best interpreter of one’s own work?” - -Terry nodded understandingly, and then in a voice that amused Ruth even -while she thought it rather cruel of him to laugh at the serious Miss -Gilchrist: - -“Do you write rhymed poetry or do you prefer free verse?” he asked. - -Miss Gilchrist deserted her grape fruit and gave him her undivided -attention. - -“You know, Mr. Riordan, for years I have written rhymed poetry, but -recently, quite recently, I have felt a definite urge toward the free -medium. I have not relinquished the rhyme, but I am expressing myself in -both forms. The free medium—” - -Her voice went on, and on, but Ruth could not hear her now because -Gloria’s voice, clear and high like the sleigh bells, rose above -everything else for the moment. - -“No; I can’t work in Terry’s play; I’ve decided never to go back to the -stage. I want to travel—South America, perhaps.” - -“But you’re going there on a concert tour, aren’t you, Prince?” said -Angela. “Perhaps—if you have a secret from me, Gloria, I don’t know what -I shall do to you.” - -For a moment Ruth’s eyes met those of Professor Pendragon. She saw a -strange light flash into them, like a sword half withdrawn from its -sheath and then replaced, as he dropped his eyes. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - -It was easy to slip away alone. Ruth knew that Gloria, who had gone to -her own room, expected to be followed, but she did not want to talk -alone with Gloria until she had seen Professor Pendragon. She found the -enclosed veranda, a sleeping porch above the sun room. She threw a heavy -cloak about her shoulders and passed unobserved down the hall and -through the narrow doorway leading outside. He was there, waiting for -her in his wheel chair. There was another chair beside him, perhaps for -the nurse. She could look out over a wide circle of white hills with -masses of dark green where fir trees clustered in the hollows. The outer -edge of the circle was stained a deep rose, so that hill and cloud lay -heaped against the sunset bathed in cold flame. - -She moved toward him slowly, wondering how she would begin now that she -had kept her rendezvous. He laid down the pipe he had been smoking and -held out a hand to her, a hand through which the light seemed to shine, -it was so pale and thin. - -She sat down beside him without speaking at once and looked for a moment -at the sunset hills. They seemed so quiet and cold and peaceful. What -she was going to say would sound strange and unreal here—more strange -even than it sounded in New York. - -“I want to talk to you about Gloria,” she began, but he did not speak -when she paused, so she went on: - -“When you sent me that card to the water colour show—it was at breakfast -I got it—Gloria told me that she’d been married to you. She’s my aunt—my -father’s sister, but I’d never seen her until after father and mother -both died and I came here to study art. Mother sent me to her because -she is my only living relative. She didn’t know you were in New York -until I got that card, and she asked me not to tell you about her, so I -lied when you asked me about myself, or at least didn’t tell the truth. -Then just before we came here I saw Nels Zord and he told me you were -here too. At first I thought of telling Gloria, but I didn’t because I -want you to help me. I want you to save Gloria.” - -“I’m afraid I can’t save Gloria, my child, any more than Gloria can save -me—she perhaps has lost her soul—tomorrow I lose my life. It is all set -and we have as little to do with it as with that thin thread of waning -moon up there, which tomorrow night will be utterly dark.” - -“But don’t you see, Gloria doesn’t understand and that’s why she is -helpless; but you do understand and can prevent things. You said -yourself to me once, ‘The stars incline but do not compel.’ If you won’t -help me I must do everything alone, but you must tell me the truth, -isn’t George the cause of your illness?” - -He leaned suddenly toward her. - -“Why do you think that?” - -“You talked about the evil eye and the dark of the moon; the others, -Nels and Dorothy, thought you were joking or talking in riddles, but I -didn’t. The night of the show, when you were first stricken, I saw -George performing incantations before a horrible snake—a black cobra, I -think; a month later he worshipped the snake again and your illness -increased. He has come here because Angela wants him to entertain us -with his music hall magic. I am afraid that he will use the snake. You -say you are to lose your life tomorrow; if George is the cause of your -illness, then that is true.” - -He was still leaning toward her, searching her face in the waning light. -He spoke slowly as if his words were but a surface ripple over a deep -lake of thought. - -“It is true that my illness is mind-born—I have known that from the -beginning—and that it is not of myself, and I have tried to discover who -could have thought it on me. It may be, as you suggest, that George has -done it. It is an answer, but why?” - -“Because of Gloria,” she said. With another man it would have been -difficult to tell her beliefs, but for the moment it seemed as if they -two were hanging suspended in the dusk-blue bowl of mountain and sky, -and the soul, eager yet indifferent of life, that looked out of his -eyes, commanded absolute truth. - -“George loves her—he is a Hindoo, and for no other reason would he have -been her servant all these years. At first he understood the prejudices -of a Western woman and realized that he couldn’t marry her, but I think -if you will look back perhaps now you can see how he separated you and -Gloria. I have never seen the two men who followed, but I think he must -have hypnotized her into marrying them, and then himself broken the -marriages, and now she is going to marry this horrible Prince Aglipogue. -George is forcing her to do that. He boasted that it was so to me. It -will ruin her career and make her poor, and break her heart with shame -when she wakes to what she has done. Then George will claim his reward. -He did not mention your name when he talked to me, but he said, ‘There -is only one other fit to walk beside her, and he is slowly dying of an -unknown disease.’ You see there is only one link gone from my story and -that is how you let Gloria go at first. Why did you, why did you?” - -In the retelling of the story that had occupied her mind all these -weeks, putting all her fears into words, it seemed that the danger she -told had grown fourfold. When she had tried to tell Terry his very -attitude of uncomprehension had made her story sound unreal, but when -she told it now, she saw belief and understanding in Pendragon’s eyes, -and something else—a resignation that maddened her. It was as if he -watched Gloria being murdered and made no movement to protect her. - -“Why, why?” she demanded again, grasping his arm with tense fingers. She -could almost have shaken him. - -He seemed quite unmoved by her excitement. - -“Gloria had met George before we were married,” he said in his quiet -voice. “She found him ill, you know, and paid his debts and got him a -doctor, and when he was well he wanted to serve her. I didn’t like him -and advised her not to take him; it would have been much better for him -to go back to his profession, but he begged to come and she liked him; -perhaps his devotion flattered her. Everything went well until the night -when Gloria was to open in a new play. I never went much to the theatre. -I thought it better to leave her alone in her professional life, and on -this night the planet Eros—a small planet discovered quite recently in -our new solar system—was to be very near—much nearer than it had ever -been but once before, much nearer than it would be again for many years. -The first time the astronomers of the world had missed a wonderful -opportunity; this time they were all watching. We were to take -photographs if the weather permitted; by means of Eros and comparative -calculations we would discover something exact about the distance and -weight of many other planets. It was the opportunity of a century. - -“We had a small flat in London and George was acting as a sort of butler -and sometimes valeting me as well. I hated having him around, but Gloria -said he was happier when he was busy. I remember now everything that -happened and how he looked at me. ‘You are going to the theatre tonight, -Sir?’ he said, and I had the impression that he often gave me, that he -was being impertinent, almost insulting, though there was neither -impertinence nor insult in his words or manner. - -“‘No; I’m due at the observatory,’ I answered. There had been no idea of -my going to the opening in my mind, or in Gloria’s, I think, until that -moment, but when George had left us she turned on me with reproaches. -She said that I took no interest in her work; that I was jealous of her -career and that I must choose between her and the stars that night. I -dare say I was very stupid, but she seemed quite strange and -unreasonable as I had never seen her before, and I said some rather -nasty things. She said if I did not go to the theatre she would never -return to the flat. Of course I said that was unnecessary—that I would -go. I did; expecting a message from her every day. The only message I -got was from her lawyers in Paris, where she had gone for a divorce. -That’s the story.” - -He stopped talking now, but Ruth waited. Over the hills the rose flush -had faded, the thin, keen blade of the almost disappearing moon hung -like a scimitar in a field of dark purple and resting above it a star -hung, trembling, as if waiting for the cold arms of a laggard lover. - -“I suppose half confidences won’t do,” he said at last. “I still love -Gloria; what man once having loved her could forget? ‘Time cannot change -nor custom stale her infinite variety’; but of what use to fight one’s -destiny—in another incarnation, perhaps. I cannot believe all that you -say of George. That he is a Mahatma is doubtless true, that he loves -Gloria is gruesomely natural, that he hates me and has put upon me this -mind-born malady is reasonable, but that he should possess, or even -aspire to possess, Gloria is incredible.” - -There was a sadness on his face, another worldness in his eyes, but -there was no light of battle there, and Ruth, whose youth and energy -cried out for action, felt as if she were beating with futile hands -against a stone wall. - -“But he does want her, and he’s going to succeed if you don’t do -something. If he has the power to kill you, he has the power to do these -other things too. Even if you don’t believe this, you must do something -to save your own life.” - -“I’m afraid I’m not very keen about living; if I die now it is an easy -way out—” - -She wanted to protest that if he had courage he might yet win Gloria -again, but she did not dare raise hopes that might never be fulfilled. -Even if Gloria were saved from the Prince who could tell that she might -not marry Terry? - -“That’s weak, and cowardly,” she said, “and if you believe in the wisdom -of the East you know that in the next life you will not enjoy the fruit -of any joy for which you have not struggled in this. You are selfish, -too. Even if you no longer care for your own life, you must do what you -can to help Gloria.” - -“She no longer wants anything from me; she would only resent my -interference.” - -“You are thinking only of yourself—what difference can her attitude make -now? Promise me that you will do something—promise—” - -“Perhaps the voice of youth is the voice to follow—I am afraid I have -grown old and age does not love knighthood, but I promise that if I see -any way in which to change her destiny and mine, I will make what effort -I can. I will think about it.” - -It was almost dark now, and Gloria was standing beside them before they -saw her. - -“Angela’s been looking for you; she wants you to play billiards, Ruth.” - -“But I don’t know how.” - -“That doesn’t make any difference; neither do I and neither does Miss -Gilchrist; you just stand around and make the men wish that you’d go -away and let them have a good game—but don’t go just yet,” as Ruth -started away. “I want to say something to Professor Pendragon and I -don’t want to be alone with him.” - -Ruth could not see his face very clearly, but she saw his long white -hands clenching over the arms of his chair. - -“I thought, of course, when we met this morning, that you would find -some excuse for going away on the next train, Percy.” - -“Why should I do that, Gloria? I did not know you were coming; you did -not know I was here. We have been thrown together for a brief time. -Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Peyton-Russell knows that we have met before. I -have promised to stay over the New Year. John knows I haven’t any -particular business interest to call me away. I thought the least -conspicuous thing would be to stay. My illness makes it easy for me to -stay much in my own rooms. We need not meet often, but if you wish, of -course, I can go tomorrow.” - -There was no trace of bitterness or anger in his voice. He spoke in a -cold, casual way as if he were discussing some rather boring detail of -business. - -“I do wish it very much—Prince Aglipogue has asked Angela to announce -our engagement tomorrow night. Of course no one but Ruth and Mr. Riordan -knows that we have ever met before, but it will be awkward for me, even -though you seem to have forgotten everything.” - -Her voice, as cold as his at the beginning, deepened and trembled on the -last words, whether with tears or anger Ruth could not tell. She only -knew that both of these people were suffering as only proud people can -suffer and she did not want to watch. She tried to slip away, but -Gloria’s hand on her arm restrained her. - -“Really, Gloria, I don’t see why you should announce a thing like that; -you might as well make an announcement every time you buy a new frock.” - -The words could not have cut Gloria more than they did Ruth. Surely this -was not the man who not fifteen minutes earlier had told her that he -still loved Gloria? If he had hated her he could have said nothing more -rude. She felt Gloria’s hand tighten on her arm as if for support. - -“I will go, then; you need not trouble,” she said in a low voice. - -“No; forgive me—I will go on the early train.” - -But already Gloria had turned and was walking away, and Ruth, not -knowing what to say, followed, her heart aching for both the woman and -the lonely man outside. Gloria did not pause nor look back and Ruth -suspected that she dared not turn her face for fear of disclosing tears. - -The warm air inside made Ruth realize for the first time that, though -sheltered, it was very cold outside. She hesitated, wondering whether to -follow Gloria or to go back and beg Professor Pendragon not to remain -longer out of doors. Gloria decided her by walking steadily forward and -turning into her own room, closing the door behind her. - -He was still sitting where they had left him, staring out into the -blue-black sky. Even his hands still clung tightly to the arms of his -chair as they had when she had left him. - -“I’ve just discovered that it’s terrifically cold out here and you ought -to come in,” she said, trying to speak as if nothing had happened. - -“The nurse was to have come out for me a long time ago; I dare say she -saw us talking and went back. If you think you could push the chair for -me—I haven’t any crutches here—I will go in,” he answered in the same -tone. - -Without speaking she moved to the back of the chair and began wheeling -him toward the door. It really moved very easily. She stopped at the -door, opened it and pushed him through. - -“Which door?” she asked. - -“That one,” he pointed. - -It was next to Gloria’s room and across the hall from her own. The -obvious thought came to her of how these two, apparently so near, were -separated by a bridgeless ocean of misunderstanding. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - -“It’s a worse storm than the one that held up your train; it’s rather -Christmasy and all that, but it’s rather unfortunate, because the nurse -has become alarmed about Professor Pendragon and he wanted to take the -early train back to New York. We’ve telephoned Dr. Gerstens, and if it’s -possible for anything to travel five miles through this snow storm he’ll -be here.” - -Ruth glanced across the breakfast table at Gloria while Angela was -speaking, but there was no annoyance on Gloria’s face, only a desperate -fear looked out of her eyes. Again it seemed to Ruth that she was a -trapped bird. - -“How about the children?” asked Mr. Peyton-Russell. - -“Oh, these storms never last more than a few hours; by noon it will be -over and most of them can get here—those that only live a few miles -away. They’re accustomed to weather like this—unless James refuses to -take out the horses—James, you know, thinks more of the horses than he -does of us,” she continued, turning to the others. “You know every -Christmas John has the most beautiful custom. He gees around to all the -farm houses and collects the children and brings them here to play games -and enjoy our Christmas tree. I expect you to help entertain them, Ruth. -You’re the youngest person here.” - -“I’m afraid I don’t know much about children, but I’ll try.” - -“I’ll help,” said Terry quickly. - -“I knew you would,” said Angela, and they all laughed, though Ruth could -see nothing to laugh at. She was beginning to fear that the events of -the last weeks had dulled her wits. - -“Can’t Pendragon take the afternoon train if it clears up?” asked Mr. -Peyton-Russell. - -“The nurse won’t let him; says he can’t stand sleeping cars. She simply -won’t let him go until morning—and perhaps when Dr. Gerstens comes he’ll -say it isn’t necessary—though he has looked rather badly the last few -days. You know at first I quite forgot that he was ill until he would -try to walk. I like him so much—don’t you think it’s awfully sweet of me -to like John’s friends, Gloria?” - -Angela was in one of her juvenile moods in which Gloria usually -encouraged her, but now she only answered: - -“Yes, very.” - -“It is the duty of a good wife to like the friends of her husband,” said -Prince Aglipogue, who by this time had sufficiently satisfied the first -keen edge of the appetite acquired through the night to begin taking -part in the conversation. - -This remark was a challenge to Miss Gilchrist, who began a long talk on -the duty of every woman to retain her individuality after marriage, -illustrating her talk with examples of what the unfortunate man who -married her might expect. And no one was rude enough or brave enough to -tell her that all these plans and warnings on her part were unnecessary. -Ruth didn’t even listen. She had discovered that Miss Gilchrist never -required an answer to anything she said. She was content if only allowed -to go on talking. - -It was at such times as these that everything that Ruth had seen in the -past and everything she feared for the future seemed most unreal and -incredible. - -Surely here in this warm room with its glowing fire, its flowers and -birds, among these every-day people, eating breakfast and chatting of -ordinary things, there could be nothing more sinister than the snow -storm outside; and that only seemed to add to the comfort and good cheer -within. - -Then she saw George glide across the far end of the long room, silent, -dark-clad, swift, and she remembered that this was not only Christmas -Eve; it was also the dark of the moon. The children would come to play -before the Christmas tree in the afternoon—and at night the doom of the -daughter of Shiva would fall. Later she knew that it was in this moment -that she thought again of the words of Professor Pendragon: “If I had an -enemy I would destroy his faith in his power to harm,” and she knew what -it was that she must do. - -Angela was right. The snow stopped falling before ten o’clock. They had -all been keeping country hours and had breakfasted at eight, and they -all watched James drive off in the huge sleigh that was to bring the -children to the Christmas party. - -There would not be as many as usual, for James had been forced to make a -late start and he could not travel very rapidly in the deep snow and the -children must be there at three o’clock if they were to start home early -in the evening. For these very good reasons he could not stop at more -than four or five of the very nearest farms. However, as each farm could -provide from two to six children, there promised to be quite enough to -keep Ruth busy if she was to amuse them. - -The idea of amusing children rather frightened Ruth, but she was -relieved when Angela took them to see the tree. It had all been very -nicely arranged with enough mechanical amusement to relieve her of any -very great responsibility. The tree—a very big one—was in a large room -from which most of the furniture, except a few chairs, had been -thoughtfully removed. Aside from the candles and tinsel ornaments there -were dozens of small gifts, of little value, but suitable almost for any -child, together with the usual “Christian sweets,” as Terry called them, -which Ruth remembered to have received herself from Church Christmas -trees, and to have seen nowhere else at any time. Then there was to be -tea with lots of cakes and chocolate and nuts and fruit, and altogether -Ruth could see that there would not be more than one torturing hour in -which she would have to “amuse the children.” Besides they would -probably amuse themselves. - -“Why not teach them poetry games?” suggested Miss Gilchrist, “those -lovely things of Vachel Lindsay’s, where the poetry is interpreted by -motion—” - -“Better let them play games they know,” said Angela. “They only have an -hour or two, and there won’t be time to teach them anything new.” - -“Oh, very well. I was only suggesting; of course if you prefer the -old-fashioned, undirected play—but it seemed to me a splendid -opportunity to bring beauty into the lives of children who might never -have another opportunity of studying it. I have gone in for child study, -you know, quite deeply; I may say that child culture is my—” - -Ruth feared that she was going to say it was her chief métier, but -Angela interrupted with: - -“I think I’ll have some little tables brought in for the tea. Children -are so awkward about cups and things, and perhaps they’ll feel less shy -if they’re all sitting together round a table.” - -Though her ideas about modern child culture seemed to meet with so -little approval, Miss Gilchrist did not absent herself from the party. -She was with Ruth and Terry and Mr. and Mrs. Peyton-Russell while they -watched the arrival of the sleigh load of shouting children. Prince -Aglipogue was, of course, far too dignified to take any interest and -Gloria had absented herself since breakfast as if she feared that she -would have to meet Pendragon again. - -“They didn’t seem to mind meeting at all,” Terry had said to her the day -before, but when Angela had spoken of Professor Pendragon’s dangerous -condition and his plan of returning to the city, Ruth had caught his -glance and knew that he understood at least in part—at least as much as -any one else could understand. She did not intend to tell him anything -about her own conversation with Pendragon or the scene between him and -Gloria which she had witnessed. She knew that she had been there, not so -much as a confidante, as an artificial barrier between two people who -otherwise could not have borne the pain of meeting. The experience had -made her feel very old, and now the idea of entertaining children seemed -almost preposterous. - -The door was opened and the little guests came trooping into the big -hall, but something seemed to have happened when they clambered out of -the sleigh. They had been laughing after the most approved manner of -childhood. Ruth could swear to that. She had seen their faces and some -of the shrill shouts had penetrated into the house. Now they stood, with -wide, curious eyes and solemn demeanour, the little ones were huddling -close behind the older ones and all looking like shy, frightened wood -things. They followed Mr. Peyton-Russell into the room of the Christmas -tree; they looked, but where were the cries of delight with which Ruth -had expected them to hail this wonder? Beyond shy “yes” and “no” to -questions they said nothing. They stood like little, wooden images while -the maids separated them from vast quantities of little coats, sweaters, -knitted caps, hoods, mufflers, and overshoes. Ruth hoped that they would -breathe sighs of relief and begin to look happy after that, but they -didn’t. They stood quite solemnly where they were and Angela and her -husband, who were to return later to distribute the gifts, fled, leaving -them to be “amused.” The electric candles on the tree had been lighted, -though it was a bright day, and some of the bolder children drew near to -it, but still they did not talk. It seemed that entrance into the house -had made them strangers to each other as well as to their hosts, and -they looked so dull Ruth wondered, remembering the hordes of dark-faced -children she had seen playing in Washington Square, if country children -were duller than city children. - -“Let me start them,” said Miss Gilchrist, talking quite audibly as if -the children could not hear. “I have a great way with children.” She -threw an ogreish smile at them as she spoke and one little girl -instinctively drew near to Terry as if for protection. - -“Now, children, what shall we play?” she asked in what was doubtless -intended to be an engaging tone of voice. - -For a long time no one spoke; then a little girl—the tallest little girl -there—whispered just audibly: - -“Kissing games.” - -Terry grinned delightedly, but Miss Gilchrist flushed a dark purple. - -“No, indeed,” she said, still in her schoolteacher voice. “I’m sure the -other children do not want to play games like that. Tell me what you -play at school.” But again there was silence. Though some of the little -boys had giggled, there were indications that most of the children did -want to play “kissing games,” probably because those were the only -indoor games they knew. - -“Why not let them play the games they’re accustomed to playing—isn’t -there one called—er—post-office?” he questioned the little girl. She -nodded emphatically, and Miss Gilchrist, casting looks expressive of -deep disgust at both Terry and Ruth, departed. In her absence the -children seemed to gain confidence. They told Terry their names and -recalled to him such details of the fascinating game of post-office as -he had forgotten. - -“D’you really mean you never played it?” he asked Ruth. - -“I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was so important.” - -“No child’s education complete without it; but it’s never too late to -mend your ways, so you can learn now.” - -At first Ruth couldn’t help feeling rather ridiculous, but the children -after five minutes of play seemed to regard her as one of them, and -Terry was perhaps a bit younger than the youngest boy there. They -progressed from one game to another, and to Ruth it seemed that every -game, no matter how harmless on the surface, called for some declaration -in rhyme about “the un that I luf best,” followed by a kiss to prove it, -and she was in constant fear that the etiquette of play would require -that she kiss Terry, but it never did. Evidently Terry understood these -things far better than she did, for while he kissed every little maid in -the room and every little boy made declaration of his love for her, they -never had to kiss each other. - -Still it was a relief when tea was brought in; a relief to the children -as well, if one could judge by the enthusiasm with which they greeted -it, and afterward John Peyton-Russell and Angela and Gloria and even -Prince Aglipogue came in to see the distribution of gifts. - -They all sat in rows, “Like in Sunday School,” as Ruth heard one of the -little girls whisper, while Mr. Peyton-Russell made a little speech and -gave out the gifts. Gloria’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were -unnaturally bright, Ruth thought, but as always under stress of emotion, -she was hiding behind words, amusing words with a touch of acid behind -them. - -“He used to invite the parents, too,” she told Ruth; “sort of lord of -the manor pose; but he found that American farmers do not lend -themselves well to the tenantry idea; they came and then sent him -invitations as a return of hospitality. They simply would not be -faithful retainers, and then”— - -“I’m afraid Aggie’s being bored—not enough to drink for one thing—Angela -is so conservative—dinner tonight will cheer him—some more people -coming; the Brixtons and their guests, I think. Hope Percy has the good -grace to keep to his rooms even though he didn’t leave.” - -“He couldn’t, you know, because of the storm this morning,” defended -Ruth. - -“I say, is he going to die, do you think?” she asked suddenly. - -“No—what made you ask that?” Ruth felt her eyes shifting in spite of her -efforts to meet Gloria’s clear gaze. - -“I don’t know—something in the look of him when we left him there in his -wheel chair—you know everything is finished for us, but still it would -be terrible! I should hate to have Percy die, though God knows I have -enough ex-husbands to be able to spare just one.” - -Her shrill, mirthless laughter rose above the chatter of the children’s -voices. - -“Don’t, Gloria—please don’t—I can’t bear it!” - -“Look here, child—are you—do you love Percy?” Her voice had changed now, -all the hardness gone from it—it was almost the mother tone. Her words -startled Ruth more than anything that had gone before. - -“Love Professor Pendragon? Of course not. I like him awfully well—I’m -afraid I think you’ve treated him very badly and perhaps I’m sorry for -him, but I never thought of him in any other way. What made you ask -that?” - -Gloria listened, at first with a little puzzled line between her perfect -brows, and then, convinced of Ruth’s sincerity, her face cleared. - -“I don’t know—something Terry said first gave me the idea. I think he -got the impression from something you said. And it wouldn’t be so -strange, would it? Percy _is_ attractive.” - -“Much more attractive than that horrible creature,” said Ruth, glancing -in Prince Aglipogue’s direction. - -Gloria shrugged her shoulders and did not reply. One could say anything -to Gloria. She was never offended because people did not agree with her, -nor did the opinions of other people change or influence her own actions -or beliefs in any way. - -Ruth did not try to talk any more. She was thinking of what Gloria had -said about Terry. If Terry thought that she was interested in -Pendragon—if she could have made a mistake like this—wasn’t it possible -that she had made a mistake in thinking that Terry loved Gloria? Somehow -since their adventure on the train together he had not seemed so -inaccessible. Reason had told her that he was unattainable, but -something stronger than reason had told another story. There had been an -indefinable something different in his attitude toward her during the -last few days—something like a prelude—something for which they were -both waiting. Still, she must not deceive herself with false hopes. -There were so many things for which she was waiting—things that would -happen now she knew within a very few hours. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - -The other guests had come, so that there were twelve people around the -Christmas Eve dinner table, among them Professor Pendragon, in whose -quiet face Ruth thought she read some new resolve. Surely he must have -some purpose in thus joining the others when he knew that tonight -Gloria’s engagement to Prince Aglipogue would be announced, and when his -illness would have made his absence seem quite plausible. He moved about -so unobtrusively as to make his infirmity almost unnoticed, and now, -seated beside Ruth, she found it difficult to believe that he was really -paralysed. She talked to him of trivial things, ordinary dinner chat, or -listened to the others, wondering within herself what secrets lay behind -those smiling masks of triviality. - -If Gloria and Pendragon, who had once been married, could meet thus as -strangers, if she and Terry knowing their secret, or at least a part of -it, could calmly pretend to the world that they did not know, might not -all these other people have secrets, too—old memories that wine would -not drown, meetings and partings whose pleasure or pain even time could -not dim—immortal loves and hates still living, but sealed securely in -coffins of conventionality? - -Hundreds of candles flashed against dark walls, stained to a semblance -of old age; bright scarlet holly berries nestled against their green -waxen leaves, and dark, red roses shed their heavy perfume over -everything. The dinner was being a great success, for there were no -awkward lulls in conversation, and, while Ruth in her youth and -innocence did not know it, Angela Peyton-Russell was blessed with an -excellent cook, without whose services the faces of the men present -would not have been so happy. Ruth did not even observe what she ate, -but Prince Aglipogue, upon whose face sat heavy satisfaction, could have -told to the smallest grain of condiment exactly what each dish -contained. - -Some one suggested that there were enough people to dance, and Angela, -realizing the advantages of spontaneity in entertainment, eagerly -acquiesced. They would dance for an hour or two after dinner and she -would have her little “show” later; but the guests themselves would have -to supply the music. - -The Prince, who could be agreeable when he chose, immediately offered -his services and his violin if Miss Gilchrist would accompany him with -the piano. - -It would all be just like an old-fashioned country dance, and “so -delightfully Bohemian,” Angela thought. She was tremendously happy over -the success of her Christmas party, and her husband was tremendously -satisfied because of the success of his beautiful wife in the luxury of -his beautiful home; but Ruth’s heart ached whenever she heard Gloria’s -liquid laughter because there were tears in it, and in the steady fire -of Professor Pendragon’s dark eyes she saw a flame more pitiful than the -funeral pyre of a Sati. - -He talked a little, very quietly of trivial things, sometimes to her, -sometimes to the others, and Ruth took courage from his calmness. Only -as the party grew more gay it seemed to her that under all the sparkle -and the gaiety there was a silence louder than the noise, like the heavy -hush that falls on nature before the thunder clap and the revealing -flash have ushered in a storm. So strong was this sense of waiting that -when their host stood with upraised glass, her hand instinctively went -out and rested for a brief second on Professor Pendragon’s arm, as if -she would shield him. Then she saw Terry looking at her, and remembering -what Angela had said to her that afternoon, she quickly withdrew it. -There had been no need to touch him, for Pendragon, like the others at -the table, turned his attention to John Peyton-Russell, listening to his -words as if they held no especial significance for him. - -“I want John to make the announcement,” Angela had said. “It gives him -such pleasure to make speeches. He simply adores it.” - -Evidently she knew her husband’s tastes, for with the halting words and -awkward phraseology of the man accustomed to addressing nothing gayer -than a board of directors’ meeting, he stumbled at great length and with -obvious self-satisfaction through a speech in which he proposed that -they drink to the approaching marriage of Gloria Mayfield and Prince -Aglipogue. - -His words were greeted with enthusiasm by all those to whom they meant -nothing except that a more or less famous actress was to marry a fat -foreign prince. Ruth heard a woman near her whisper to the man at her -right: - -“Will this make her third or her fourth?” - -And the response: - -“I’ve lost count.” - -The Prince was responding now—something stilted and elaborate, but Ruth -did not hear. The dinner had become a nightmare. She wanted to escape. -Concealed in the girdle of her frock was the little revolver that Terry -had given her. She could feel its weight, and it comforted her. - -Somehow the dinner ended and Ruth with the others followed Angela to a -drawing-room that had been denuded of rugs for dancing. A few months -before Ruth would have thought all these people charming, the women -beautiful, the men distinguished. Now they were repulsive to her. How -could they listen unprotesting to the announcement that Gloria, the -beautiful and good (no power on earth could have persuaded Ruth that -Gloria was not good), was to marry an ugly ogre like Prince Aglipogue? - -His fat face wreathed in smiles now, he stood, tucking his violin under -his third chin, and then he played—he played, and even Ruth forgot the -source of the music. It was not Prince Aglipogue that played, but some -slender, dark Hungarian gypsy whose music was addressed to an -unattainable princess, ’neath whose window he stood, bathed in -moonlight. She threw a rose to him and he crushed it against a heart -that broke with joyous pain of loving. - -Some little time he played before any one danced; then the insensate -callousness of people who “must be amused” triumphed over the music and -the stupid gyrations of the modern dance which every one had been forced -to learn in self-protection—for those who do not dance must watch, and -the insult to the eyes is too great to be borne. - -Perhaps after all the music of Aglipogue’s violin did move them; perhaps -it was only that they had dined too well; perhaps because the company -was so small that twice men found themselves dancing with their own -wives; for any, or all, or none of these reasons, they tired of dancing -early and were ready for Angela’s much-advertised “show.” - -Terry had been dancing with Ruth, and she knew that there was something -that he wanted to say to her. She guessed that it was something about -Gloria, but she did not want to talk to Terry about Gloria. He could not -understand and she regretted that she had tried to make him understand. -She could not discuss Gloria with any one, not even Terry. She knew what -she had to do and her whole mind was set on that. If she talked to Terry -his lack of faith would weaken her purpose. She left him now, abruptly, -ignoring the look of reproach in his eyes, and walked beside Professor -Pendragon, who was moving slowly on his crutches, a little behind the -others. She meant to stay close beside him through the rest of the -night. - -In the room that had been the scene of the children’s party that -afternoon a stage had been put up—a low platform covered with a black -velvet carpet and divided in half by a black curtain on which the signs -of the Zodiac were embroidered in gold thread. The Christmas tree was -still in the room, but unlighted and shoved away into an obscure corner. -To Ruth it looked pitiful, like an old man, Father Christmas perhaps, -who sat back watching with sorrowful eyes the unchristmas-like -amusements of modern humanity. There was a piano on the stage. For a -woman who was herself “unmusical,” Angela had more pianos in her house -than any one in the world, Ruth decided. - -In a semicircle, very close to the stage, chairs had been placed, and -here the company seated themselves, with much more or less witty comment -about what they might expect from behind the mysterious curtain. Behind -them was another row of chairs, which, carrying out Mr. Peyton-Russell’s -“lord of the manor” pose, the household servants had been invited to -occupy. They came, with quiet curiosity, one or two of the maids -stifling yawns that led Ruth to suspect they would much rather have gone -to bed. - -The semi-circular arrangement of the chairs made those at the ends of -the row much closer to the stage than those in the centre. On one of -these end chairs sat Professor Pendragon, his crutches resting beside -him on the floor, and next to him sat Ruth. Then came some of the dinner -guests, the other house guests, including Gloria and Prince Aglipogue, -being at the farther end of the row; the room was dimly lighted and the -stage itself had only one light, a ghostly green lamp, seemingly -suspended in the middle of the black curtain, in the shape of a waning -moon. Instinctively voices were hushed and people talked to each other -in whispers. Only Ruth and Professor Pendragon did not speak. She could -not know of what he was thinking, but she knew that in herself thought -was suspended. She sat watching her hand clasping the tiny revolver -concealed in her girdle. - -John Peyton-Russell then announced that Miss Gilchrist (if she had a -Christian name no one ever heard it) had consented to recite some of her -own poems. The relaxation of the company, almost visible, was half -disappointment, half relief. The stage set had led them to expect -something unusual, and they were only going to be bored. - -Miss Gilchrist seated herself at the piano, on which she accompanied -herself. Ruth did not know if her words were as bad as her music, for -she did not understand them, and from certain whispered comments she -knew that no one else did, with the possible exception of Miss Gilchrist -herself. - -Some one else—a pretty, blond young thing with a “parlour voice,” sang -an old English Christmas carol that sounded like sacrilege. Then Prince -Aglipogue sang. Ruth never hated him so much as when he sang because -then as at no other time he created the illusion of an understanding -soul. His painting was obvious trickery; his violin playing of a quality -that did not discredit the composer, for he had been trained to a -parrot-like perfection; but when he sang he created the illusion of -greatness—Purcell, Brahms, Richard Strauss—it did not matter whose music -he sang; one felt that he understood, and it angered Ruth that when she -closed her eyes she forgot the singer and could understand how Gloria -might marry and even love the possessor of this voice. - -Aglipogue always maintained that the war had ruined his career. He had -an opera engagement in Germany in 1914, and when the war came he could -not go to fill it. So he had remained in the States, and his amazing -versatility had enabled him to earn a living as an artist. Now the end -of the war had opened new opportunities and he was going to South -America in concert work. Ruth had never quite believed his boasting. She -did not think that any man’s work could be bigger than himself—that any -artist could express something bigger than that contained in his own -soul; and the soul of Prince Aglipogue was a weak, cowardly, hateful -thing. Yet his voice moved her, attracted and repelled, cast a spell -over her, exotic, fascinating, yet sinister as if the music were only a -prelude to the wicked necromancy of the Hindoo that was to follow. - -The voice ceased, and Prince Aglipogue, alone of all the company unmoved -by his own voice, resumed his place at Gloria’s side. For a brief -breathing minute no one moved. John Peyton-Russell seemed to have -forgotten his cue. Then he rose and told them that the real surprise was -to come, an exhibition of magic by Karkotaka, a famous Indian Mahatma. -It was the first time that Ruth had ever heard George’s Hindoo name and -she suspected that it was no more his real name than was George. She -thought she remembered an Indian story in which a certain Karkotaka -figured as king of the serpents, a sort of demi-god. - -All eyes were on the dark curtain now, but if they expected it to rise -or to be drawn aside they were disappointed. Instead, it parted silently -and Karkotaka, George, glided through, dressed not in the costume of a -Brahman, but of a mediæval prince of India. Instead of a turban he wore -a high jewelled headdress. A single piece of cloth, dark blue in colour -and gemmed with small gold stars, was draped about him, leaving one arm -and shoulder bare, and descending to his feet, which were encased in -jewelled sandals. Even Ruth, who had expected something extraordinary, -gasped as he stood bowing before them. The dignity that had shown even -through his servant’s dress was now one hundred times more apparent. He -moved with a lithe grace as became the king of the serpents, slowly -moving his bare bronze arms until it seemed to Ruth they coiled and -writhed like living snakes. Under his headdress his eyes gleamed more -brightly than the jewels above. - -He had come upon the stage with nothing in his hands, and except for the -piano it was empty, certainly empty of all the paraphernalia of -legerdemain. Then, suddenly he held in his hand a small brass bowl. He -made a sign to some one in the back of the room, who had evidently been -detailed to help him, and a servant gave him a carafe of ice water. This -he set down beside the bowl. Then he offered the bowl to the spectators -for examination. Ruth noticed that he was so close to them that it was -not even necessary to step down from the low stage. Two or three men who -“Never saw a trick yet I couldn’t see through” examined the bowl with -sceptical eyes and pronounced it quite ordinary. Then George poured ice -water from the carafe into the bowl and again offered it for inspection. -Several people touched it with their hands and pronounced the water with -which it was quite filled to be ice cold. Then George set the bowl down -before him and covered it with a small silk handkerchief. He waved his -hands over it three times, removed the handkerchief, and they saw steam -rising from the ice water. Again George offered the bowl for inspection. -Terry dipped his fingers into the water and as quickly removed them with -an exclamation of pain. The water was almost too hot to touch. - -Then from nowhere appeared the little mound of sand and watering pot -indispensable to any self-respecting Indian fakir. Several people -whispered, “The mango tree—that’s an old one.” Throughout George had not -spoken one word. He seemed to be unconscious of his audience except when -he asked them to examine something. To Ruth there seemed in his studied -leisure a conscious effort to disguise haste. He bent now over the sand, -pouring water on it and pressing it up into a little hillock of mud; -then he covered it with a cloth, beneath which his hands were still -busy. Then he moved away and seemed to be muttering charms. When he -returned and removed the cloth there was the little mango sprout with -its two leathery leaves. Again the plant was covered, next time to -appear several inches tall with more leaves, and so on until it had -reached a height of more than a foot. - -It was all very wonderful, as was also the fountain of water that sprang -from the tip of his index finger, until he seemed to chide it, whereupon -it disappeared from his hand and was seen spouting from the top of the -piano. Dissatisfied, he lit a candle and, calling to the water, made it -spring from the candle flame itself. Then he called again, spread out -his arms, and the stream, leaving the still lighted candle, separated -and sprang from his five outspread fingertips. - -In an ordinary music hall the people who watched would doubtless have -conceded that it was clever, but here in an ordinary drawing-room in an -ordinary country house in the Berkshires on Christmas Eve, the -performance became something more than legerdemain. It bordered on the -supernatural and they sat silent and fascinated. - -Suddenly with an annoyed gesture he threw up his hands, apparently -throwing off the water, which instantaneously began to flow in myriad -streams from his headdress, reminding Ruth of Shiva, who, with his hair, -separated the flow of the sacred river when it came down from the -Himalayas. George removed his headdress, disclosing a close white turban -beneath, and the flow of the fountain died as unceremoniously as it had -begun. - -The servant who was standing nearby waiting for his signal now handed -George an ordinary walking stick, which George silently offered for -inspection. After some examination it was agreed that it was a very -ordinary walking stick indeed. George whirled it about his head and -dropped it before his feet—it was a writhing snake. Several women -screamed. Fountains were pretty, but they were in no mood for snakes. -George picked up the snake again and whirled it around his head. It was -an ordinary walking stick, though the men hesitated to re-examine it for -proof. - -George balanced the stick on his finger, holding his arm out straight -before him, and it began to writhe and twist, a snake with open, hissing -mouth and darting tongue. He dropped it—the same women screamed again, -then laughed hysterically as they saw the common piece of wood before -them. - -“This sort of thing is all very well from a distance, but I don’t really -care for snakes at such close quarters,” Ruth heard some one whisper. - -Ruth glanced at Professor Pendragon beside her, but his eyes were fixed -on George. There was an eager light in his eyes as if he, too, were -waiting, and his firm set lips were curved in a smile. Again her hand -sought Terry’s gift. If all these people here were the victims of -hypnotic illusions, she at least must keep one corner of her brain free -and untouched. Pendragon’s presence there was proof that he had decided -to fight, and she must help him. In the semi-darkness of the room she -could not see Gloria, but she heard her laughter like thin bells over -snow-covered hills—it seemed to echo round the room, and she fancied -that George, bending over the task of clearing away the things with -which he had been working, winced as he heard it, as if the frost of her -mirth had bitten into his heart. - -The stage was all clear again now, and he bowed deeply before them three -times. There was a restless movement among the watchers. Perhaps they -thought this was the end, but Ruth waited, her heart high up in her -throat and standing still with fear that she would somehow fail to do -the thing she had decided upon. - -George moved slowly backward toward the curtain and parted it with his -two hands, still facing them. Then reaching back he grasped a heavy -object behind him and dragged it into the centre of the stage, the -curtains closing behind him. He stood back now and they could see what -looked like a large ebony chest. He knelt before it, and Ruth could see -that there was more of reverence than utility in his attitude, as he -lifted the deep lid that seemed to divide the chest in half. Before her -eyes she saw forming the altar she had twice seen before. The side of -the lifted top made a wide platform. It was there that _It_ would lie. -From a compartment in the lifted half he took an antique lamp, which he -set on what now looked like the base of the altar. Ruth had removed the -revolver from her girdle—the cold metal saved her from screaming aloud -as George lit the lamp—a pale blue flame from which, on the instant, -heavy, odorous spirals of smoke began to rise, filling the silent room -with the insidious perfume of idolatry. For a moment the smoke seemed to -blind her eyes. Then she saw— - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - -A sigh, more like a gasp, ran through the room—from nowhere apparently, -by some trick of slight of hand, by some optical illusion, by some power -of hypnosis, they all saw a huge snake coiled on top of what had been an -ebony chest, but was now an altar, and before it knelt a priest whose -last incarnation had surely been thousands of years before kind Buddha -came to bless or curse the world with his doctrine of annihilation. - -Then for the first time Karkotaka moved his lips in audible -speech—swaying on his knees before the altar, he chanted what no one -could doubt was a hymn of praise and supplication to the snake that lay -coiled inert above the lamp. For some moments he chanted while they -waited with held breath, fascinated, repelled, frightened, for once in -their sophisticated lives, into silence. - -Then the coiled mass began to move—its head was raised and they could -see its cold, glittering eyes; it seemed to be swaying as Karkotaka -swayed in time to the chant. The clouds of incense grew thicker and they -could scarcely see each other’s faces had they looked, but their eyes -were held by the tableau on the stage, the kneeling, swaying, chanting -priest and the reptile that swayed in response. Ever higher and higher -reared the evil head, swaying always further and further toward the end -of the semicircle at which Ruth and Pendragon were sitting. Ruth sensed -his presence at her side and knew the tenseness of his waiting, but she -dared not turn her eyes toward him for one moment. Higher and higher -rose the chant until with a swift movement and a shout Karkotaka stood -upon his feet. In the same moment the snake reared to its full height, -hissing with open mouth toward them. In that instant Ruth shot. In the -confusion she was conscious of thinking that she must have hit the snake -right between the eyes, for it fell to the floor with scarcely a -movement, and George stood, staring stupidly down at it. Every one was -on their feet—every one speaking at once, though she could not -understand what they said. She could only stare at the revolver in her -hand. It all happened in such a swift moment—then her head was -clear—Gloria had fainted—they were trying to give her air. Some one of -the bewildered, frightened servants turned on the lights. Professor -Pendragon strode past her, and though Ruth saw the smoking revolver in -his hand, it carried no message to her brain. Thrusting aside Prince -Aglipogue, who was kneeling futilely over Gloria, he picked her up in -his arms and carried her out, and in the general excitement no one -thought to wonder at his miraculous cure. Angela had followed Pendragon, -but Ruth with the others stood gazing at the horrible enchantment. - -“Who did it?—who shot the thing?” she heard some one ask. - -“I did.” She held up her revolver. “I killed it.” - -“Let me see.” It was Terry standing beside her. He took the revolver -from her hands. - -“Sorry, Ruth, but I’m afraid you didn’t. It was Pendragon. I was -watching him and saw him aim and fire. It was a splendid shot even for -an expert and at such short range, for the filthy brute was moving and -he hit it right between the eyes. You see, child—” he opened the -revolver for her to look—“there hasn’t been a single shot fired from -your gun.” - -“Oh, I’m so glad.” - -And then, though she had never done anything so mid-Victorian in her -life before, she swayed and for the smallest fraction of a second lost -consciousness, then woke to the realization that Terry was supporting -her and straightened up with protestations that she was all right. - -“But why did you, why did he do it? We were going to see something quite -wonderful—I think the Indian snake dances are—” - -It was Miss Gilchrist, but no one had to answer her, for Mr. -Peyton-Russell came in just then to tell them that Miss Mayfield was -quite all right. - -“Angela’s going to stay with her for a while, but if any of you don’t -feel that your nerves are quite ready for bed, come on down to the -billiard room. There’s a little drink—real, old-fashioned hot Scotch, -waiting for you.” - -He was trying hard to be the imperturbable jovial host and perhaps he -succeeded for there was a general exodus. Terry looked questioningly at -Ruth. - -She shook her head. She wanted above everything to get away from them. -They would sit over their drinks and gossip discreetly—discuss George, -why Pendragon had killed the snake, his sudden return to health, his -usurpation of Aglipogue’s place at Gloria’s side. She had not killed the -snake but she had gone through all the nervous strain of preparing to -kill it—of thinking she had killed it and she was very tired. - -Terry walked with her as far as the staircase. - -“Tomorrow,” he said, but she did not know what he meant. Yet she slept -that night. She was in that state of weariness mental and physical in -which one stretches out like a cat, feeling the cool, clean linen like a -caress and thanking God for the greatest blessing in all this tired -world—sleep. - - -She woke late with a sense of happiness and relief even before she was -sufficiently conscious to remember the events of the past night. It was -a wonderful Christmas day—sunshiny and bright. She lay quietly thinking, -looking at the holly wreaths at her windows and watching some snow birds -on her sill. She wished lazily that she had some crumbs to feed them. -She felt very young, almost like a child. It would be nice to be a child -again, to get up and explore the contents of a stocking hung before the -chimney place in the living-room of a Middle West home. She thought of -her mother, as one inevitably thinks of the dead on days of home -gathering, and soft tears filled her eyes. - -She answered a discreet knock on the door and a maid entered with a -tray. It was the gossipy maid of her first day. How she knew that she -was awake Ruth could not guess. - -“I thought you’d rather have breakfast in bed this morning, Miss,” and -then as an afterthought, “Merry Christmas, Miss.” - -“Merry Christmas— It is a Merry Christmas after all, and I would like -breakfast in bed, though it makes me feel awfully lazy. How did you -think of it?” - -“The mistress left orders last night, but I’d thought of it anyway—after -what we all went through last night—” - -She shook her head and compressed her lips solemnly. Ruth looked at her, -willing to be interested in anything or anybody. She could not have been -much older than Ruth herself, but hard work and a coiffure composed of -much false hair surmounted by a preposterously small maid’s cap, made -her seem much more mature. As Ruth did not answer she went on: - -“Such goings on—it’s a wonder we’re all alive to tell of it.” - -“Then you didn’t like the show?” asked Ruth. - -“Such things ain’t Christian, especially on the Lord’s birthday. Tell -me, Miss, was it you killed it—some said it was you and some said it was -the poor paralysed gentleman, who was cured so miraculous like.” - -“It was Professor Pendragon. Have you seen him today?” - -“Indeed, we’ve all seen him. He’s walking round all over the place, and -he’s give ev-er-ey servant in the house a five dollar gold piece!” - -This amazing piece of information gave Ruth a shock. In her selfish -absorption in Gloria and herself she hadn’t thought of the servants and -the inevitable toll of Christmas gifts. - -“Do you know, Jennie, I didn’t buy any gifts before I came up here and I -almost forgot, but I want to give you a present—” She was just about to -offer money, and then something in the kind, stolid face warned her that -this would be wrong. “I’d like to give you something of my own that you -like. If you’ll just tell me what you want you can have anything of -mine—any dress or hat or—well, just anything you like.” - -The girl’s eyes spread wide. - -“Anything?” - -“Yes, anything, that is, if I have anything you like. If not I’ll have -to follow Professor Pendragon’s example and give you money to buy your -own gift.” - -“You’ve got such lots of pretty clothes—” - -Ruth thought her wardrobe very limited, but waited. - -“There is one dress—not a party dress—I’ve always wanted one—there ain’t -any place to wear it, but if you could—do you really mean it—anything?” - -“Of course,” said Ruth, expecting a request for one of her three -presentable evening gowns. - -“Then I’d like that blue silk thing with the lots of lace—the thing you -wear here in your own room.” - -She pointed to a negligée thrown over a chair by the dressing-table. - -“Take it; it will make me very happy to know that you have it.” She -tried to visualize Jennie in the negligée, but the picture was not -funny. She turned her head away so that Jennie should not see the tears -in her eyes. - -“You’ll most likely be getting a lot of things yourself, Miss; a man’s -gone down to the village for the mail. You’ll be getting a lot of things -from the city.” - -“I’m afraid not; still I may get some letters which will be welcome.” - -“I’ll go down and see—he may be back. He went early.” - -She was back in an incredibly short space of minutes bearing one letter, -from Dorothy Winslow. - -“And Miss Mayfield wants to know if you’ll come to her room when you’re -dressed,” said Jennie, who, seeing that Ruth was going to read her -letter, left her with another hurried, awkward “thank you, Miss,” -delivered through the door as she hurried off with her blue silk prize. - -Dorothy’s Christmas letter fairly bubbled over with happiness, and with -an affection for Ruth which she had never suspected. - -“It seems ages since you went away,” she wrote, “and I’m just dying to -tell you everything—how Nels was awfully humble and admitted he’s been a -perfect silly over that imitation high siren, and then he was -jealous—furiously jealous over your roses. It was hard not to tell him -the truth, but I didn’t—not until afterward, when he asked me to marry -him. Yes, he did! And we’ve done it. Neither of us had any money, but -that didn’t really make any difference. He’s always been able to buy his -own cigarettes and so have I and there’s no reason why we can’t do it -together just as well as apart. We’ve got the funniest little apartment -on Thirty-fourth Street—just a room with an alcove and a bath and a -kitchenette. Nels is going to get another place to work—one room some -place—very business-like and all that sort of thing and I’ll work at -home. But please do hurry back and have dinner with us sometime. You’ll -see! I _can_ cook. But I must work, too, else Nels will get ever so many -leagues ahead of me. And please have you delivered my message to the -Dragon? You did give him Nels’ message I know for Nels heard from him -and that man with the double name who is so splendidly entertaining you -over the holidays is going to buy the picture. You must get back in time -for the party we’ll put on to celebrate when the check comes. You know I -feel that you made it all happen.” - -She chatted on over ten pages of art school gossip that made Ruth rather -homesick, and eager to get back to New York, especially as the first -object of her visit had been accomplished. But had it been accomplished? -The snake was killed and Professor Pendragon was cured. To her the -connection seemed obvious. Professor Pendragon had been cured because -the object of George’s faith had been destroyed and with it the -mind-born malady which, through faith, he had put upon the man who was -his rival. But this did not accomplish all of Ruth’s desire. There still -remained the Prince. Even though George’s power over Pendragon had been -destroyed, might he not still exercise the same influence over Gloria? -And would George calmly submit to the insult that had been put upon him? -Her whole trust was now in Pendragon. He had shown that he could fight. -Having gone so far he must go further and drive away Prince Aglipogue. -Then every one would be happy—that is, every one except herself and -Terry. She was no longer sure that Terry loved Gloria. Probably he had -loved her because no man could be indifferent to Gloria, but perhaps he -had resigned himself to the unromantic rôle of friend. He had suspected -her of being interested in Pendragon for herself. That might mean -anything—his thought might have been fathered by the hope that some one -would remove Pendragon, one of his own rivals; or perhaps she had -betrayed her love for him and he wanted to turn her attention toward -another object, or perhaps—but men were such curious creatures and who -could tell? At least he did not love her which was all that really -mattered now. Nels and Dorothy could go working and playing together -through the future, but she must content herself to be wedded for life -to her art; and such art—newspaper cartoons! - -While she thought she was dressing, for she was really very curious to -see Gloria and hear what she had to say. The door of Gloria’s room was -half open and Ruth knocked and went inside at the same moment. Gloria -was fully dressed and seemed to be in the midst of packing. There were -dark circles under her eyes as if she had not slept. - -“Ruth, I want you to do something for me,” was her abrupt greeting. - -Ruth waited for an explanation. - -“Will you?” - -“Of course, Gloria,—anything.” - -“I believe you would at that—you’re an awfully nice child; sometimes I -suspect that you’re older than I am; but this is something rather nasty, -so don’t be too sure that you’ll want to do it. I want you to tell Aggie -that I can’t marry him—that I must have been insane when I said I would, -that the whole thing is utterly impossible—that it would please me if he -would go back to New York at once. I don’t want to see him any more.” - -Ruth struggled to conceal her joy at this announcement. - -“Don’t you think, Gloria, that it would be more effective if you told -him yourself?” - -“No; and besides I don’t want to see the brute—he—he— Oh, I can’t bear -to look at him—to remember everything—” - -“Suppose he doesn’t believe me?” - -“He will.” - -“You could write a note.” - -“Then he wouldn’t believe; a note would be too gentle. He’d want to see -me and talk, but if you tell him he’ll know that it’s final or I -wouldn’t have chosen to tell him through a third person. Will you do -it?” - -“Yes.” - -“I was going to leave myself,” explained Gloria with a wave of her hand -toward the evidences of packing. “But I can’t. George has -disappeared—absolutely disappeared—” - -“When—where?” - -“I said disappeared; that doesn’t mean he left a forwarding address. He -slipped off into the nowhere, sometime between midnight and morning and -of course I can’t move until we hear from him.” - -“You can, too!” Ruth was intense in her excitement. “You can—you’ve -given up the Prince; the next thing is to give up George. He’s been the -cause of all your troubles. I know you don’t believe it, but he has—he’s -hypnotized you—and if he’s disappeared you ought to be glad of it.” - -Gloria looked at her curiously from between half-closed lids. - -“Why do you think I won’t believe you? I don’t believe or disbelieve, I -know that I have been hypnotized, or mad, or ill—something. I woke up -this morning quite new— Perhaps it’s religion—” She laughed with -something of her old careless mirth. “Anyway I’m quite sane now, and I -do want to get back to New York so that I can begin rehearsals in -Terry’s new play. I feel like working hard, like beginning all over -again— I feel—so—so free, that’s the word, as if I had been in prison—a -prison with mirror walls, every one of which reflected a distorted -vision of myself. That’s all I could see—myself, always myself and -always wrong.” - -“May I come in?” - -It was Angela at the still half-open door. - -“Why, you’re not leaving?” - -“No; I only thought I was. Changed my mind again.” - -“And you’re quite well. The poor, dear Prince has been quite frantic. -He’s so anxious to see you for himself before he will be assured that -you’re really all right, after the shock last night. He’s waiting for -you now. The other men have gone off on a hike through the snow. John -has such a passion for exercise—afraid of getting stout, though he won’t -admit it. I told the Prince that I would try and send you down to him.” - -“I can’t go now. Ruth will go down and talk to him.” - -“Ruth? But he wants you.” - -A sign from Gloria counselled Ruth to go now before the discussion, and -she slipped out unnoticed by Angela whose blue eyes were fixed on -Gloria, awaiting explanations. - -Prince Aglipogue was not difficult to find. She could hear his heavy -pacing before she had reached the bottom of the stairs. He stopped -abruptly when he saw her approaching, waving his cigarette frantically -with one hand while he twisted his moustache with the other. - -“Gloria, Miss Mayfield, she is well; you have news from her? She is -coming down?” - -“Miss Mayfield is well, but she is not coming down just now. She wants -to be alone, but she sent me—” - -It was impossible to tell him. Much as she hated the man she did not -quite have the courage to deliver Gloria’s message without -preliminaries. - -“Yes? Yes?—speak, tell me; she is ill, is it not?” - -There was a nervous apprehension in his voice and manner that made Ruth -suspect that the news would not be altogether unexpected. - -“No; she is not ill. As I said she is quite well, but she asked me to -say—to tell you—it’s awfully hard to say it, but she asked me to tell -you that she cannot marry you and that it would be very tactful if you -would go back to New York at once without trying to see her.” - -It was blunderingly done, but she could think of no other way to tell -it. Unwelcome truths are only made more ugly by any effort to soften -their harshness. - -His cigarette dropped unnoticed upon the rug and his jaw dropped in a -stupid way that made him look like a great pig. One part of Ruth’s brain -was really sorry for him, for he had doubtless been fond of Gloria in -his own way; the other half of her brain wanted to laugh, but she only -stood with bent head, as if, having struck him she was waiting for his -retaliation. It came with a rush as soon as he had assimilated the full -meaning of her words: - -“I do not believe—it is a plot—she would not send a message such as that -to me—it is the work of that Riordan— He is jealous—. I will sue her for -breach of promise—one can do that, is it not?” - -“Women sometimes sue men for breach of promise,” said Ruth, who was -quite calm now, “but men seldom sue women; besides, you can’t sue -Gloria, because she has no money.” - -“No money?” He laughed and lit another cigarette to give point to his -carelessness and unbelief. - -“You say she has no money? With a house on Gramercy Park, she is poor?” - -Behind his words and his nonchalant air Ruth caught the uneasiness in -his small eyes and knew that she had struck the right note. - -“It is true that she has a house on Gramercy Square, but it takes her -entire income to pay the taxes. She got the house from her second -husband; the third was more careful. He only gave her a small income, -which, of course, she loses when she remarries.” - -For a moment he stared at her incredulous, but there was nothing but -honesty in her face. - -“It is the truth, you are speaking? Come, let us sit and talk—here a -cigarette? No? You do not smoke? I had forgotten. We have not been such -friends as I might have desired. Now explain—Miss Mayfield wishes to -break her engagement with me?” - -“She has broken it,” said Ruth tersely. - -“It is, you can understand, a shock of the greatest—I loved—but no -matter—tell me again of the affairs financial of Miss Mayfield. As a -friend only—I am resigned—as a friend only I am interested.” - -She looked at him, his heavy body, his fat face, his oily brown eyes, -and was tempted to tell him the truth of what she thought. He laid one -fat hand on hers with a familiar gesture and involuntarily she drew back -as if something unclean had touched her. He saw but pretended not to -see. He had an object to achieve and could not afford to be sensitive. -She understood and thought it all out before she spoke. If she followed -her impulse he would cause trouble, or annoyance to Gloria at the least. -If she told him the truth he would believe her and would go away without -further urging. Evidently he had thought that Gloria had money, and -Gloria, to whom money meant nothing, had never thought to tell him -anything of her affairs. It was a repulsive task but Ruth decided to -give him the information he wanted. - -“You must understand,” she said, “that Gloria is merely a professional -woman, an actress, not an heiress. She has no money except what she -earns. One of her husbands gave her the house on Gramercy Park. A year -later she married again and when she was divorced from her last husband -he settled on her a small income—hardly sufficient to keep up the house -when she is not working. If she marries again she loses even that.” - -She rose to leave him, having finished with her mission, but he caught -her hand. - -“You are speaking the truth, Miss Ruth?” - -She drew away her hand without answering. - -“But you? Perhaps you have been helping her?” - -“I have even less than Gloria.” - -His amazing lack of finesse—his appalling vulgarity stunned her into -making a reply. - -“There is a train in the morning—” - -“There is one this afternoon that you can catch if you will hurry. I -advise you to take it.” - -“Thank you, I will—you have saved me a great deal of annoyance. I am -grateful—if—” - -But Ruth did not wait for the end of his remarks. She could not bear to -look at him for another second. He was even worse than she had supposed. -Evidently he had not cared for Gloria at all, and she had always -conceded to him that much—that Gloria had touched some one small bit of -fineness in his sordid nature. - -She dared not return to Gloria just then, for she knew that Gloria in -her usual frank manner had doubtless told Angela of her changed plans; -even now Angela might be protesting with her and urging her not to -dispose of a real title so carelessly. Even without the title Angela -would not approve of the broken engagement, for it had been announced in -her house; therefore, she had, in a way, been sponsor for it, and would -want to see it go through to a successful conclusion. - -She made her way to the enclosed veranda where she had kept her -rendezvous with Pendragon on the afternoon of her arrival. It was quite -deserted now, but far out on the crest of one of the near hills she saw -a moving, black splotch against the snow that as she watched gradually -resolved itself into three figures—John Peyton-Russell, Terry and -Professor Pendragon. It gave her a strange thrill to see them -thus—Pendragon striding along with the rest. Surely this was a miracle—a -Christmas miracle, and she remembered a sentence in an old book of -witchcraft that she had once read: - -“Verily there be magic both black and white, but of these two, the white -magic prevaileth ever over the black.” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - -Ruth did not see Gloria until just before luncheon. - -“I told him, and he’s going,” she said. - -“Did he make much of a row?” - -“Not after I explained that you hadn’t any money.” - -“Let’s not talk about him any more—only has he gone yet?” - -“Yes; he wouldn’t even wait until train time. Said he could get luncheon -in the village and started out as soon as he could pack. I’m so happy -about it—now you can marry Professor Pendragon again.” - -She realized at once that she shouldn’t have said it, but she had left -so much unsaid during the last few weeks and now with both George and -Prince Aglipogue gone she felt that the seal had been removed from her -lips. She felt too, in a curious way, that Gloria though so many years -older, was in a way her special charge—that she was entering a new life -and must be guided. - -Gloria looked at her with startled eyes. - -“What nonsense! You’re too romantic, Ruth!” - -“But, Gloria, you do love him; you can’t deny it. Didn’t you tell me -once that he is the only one you’ve ever really loved?” - -“It takes two to make a marriage, Ruth.” - -“But he loves you too.” - -“What makes you think that?” - -“He told me so.” - -“Even so, and even if I would marry again, you must realize that men -very rarely marry the women they love. That’s why we separated, I think. -We married for love and that is always disastrous. I should never have -married at all. Tomorrow we’ll go back to town and Percy and I will each -go our separate ways and forget the horrible nightmare of this place. It -was just chance that we met—a weird freak of coincidence. He didn’t want -it; neither did I.” - -There was nothing that Ruth could answer and presently Gloria went on: - -“No woman was meant to have both a career and a husband; lots of them -try it—most women in fact, but usually they come to grief. It isn’t -written in the stars that one woman should have both loves, art and a -husband.” - -Ruth thought of Nels and Dorothy. Would they come to grief she wondered. -As for herself she didn’t have to choose—love didn’t come and art had -turned its back on her. She wondered if it was written in the stars that -she should have neither art nor love. Then she remembered Pendragon’s -quotation, “The stars incline, but do not compel.” So many things had -happened here perhaps another miracle would be performed. She wondered -why Gloria said nothing about Pendragon’s sudden recovery. - -It was a relief not to see Prince Aglipogue at the luncheon table. The -dinner guests of the night before had all returned to their own homes. -Aglipogue was gone, and Ruth wondered if Angela would be troubled, -because, for once, there was an uneven number of people at the table. -She did look a bit troubled, though she was trying hard to conceal it. -An engagement announced and broken within twenty-four hours was rather -trying. Still she was smiling: - -“We’ve got news of your servant, Gloria dear,—rather horrid news. It’s -quite a shock—a bad way to end a pleasant Christmas party, even though -he was only a servant, and not a very good one.” She paused, but no one -came to her rescue with questions or information and she went on: - -“They found him in the snow—he must have tried to walk to the station -and got lost—he was dead—frozen—and he had the—that horrible beast with -him—the dead snake wound round his body.” - -Her voice broke hysterically and she shivered with horror. - -“They didn’t bring him here—thank God—but took him to an undertaker’s in -the village. If he has any relatives that you could wire—” - -“None that I know of—they wouldn’t be in America anyway,” said Gloria, -quite calmly, though her face was pale. - -“Then Terry said he’d arrange things, you know—one place is as good as -another. I’m glad you take it so quietly—it’s an awful ending.” - -“He must have been furious because Pendragon shot the snake,” said -Terry. - -“Still, if the excitement of killing a snake could cure Pen, Miss -Mayfield ought to be willing to sacrifice her servant,” said John -Peyton-Russell. - -“It really was remarkable—though I have heard of similar instances—of -paralytics leaving their beds during the excitement of a fire, and that -sort of thing— I trust there will be no relapse.” - -Miss Gilchrist’s tone left no doubt in the minds of her hearers that she -was prepared for the worst. Indeed, her eyes were constantly fastened on -Professor Pendragon as if she expected him to fall down at any minute. - -“There will be none, thank you,” said Pendragon. - -Ruth and Terry exchanged glances. Ruth’s eyes asked Terry, “Do you -believe me now?” and Terry’s answered, “I don’t know— I don’t understand -it at all.” - -“Of course we’re all very happy over Professor Pendragon’s recovery,” -said Gloria in her most conventional voice, “and of course I don’t -really feel any loss about George, though I am sorry he died that way.” - -“It is tragic, but now he’s really gone, Gloria,” said Terry. “I’m -awfully glad to be rid of him. He was the most disagreeable servant I -ever met, if one can be said to meet servants. I don’t think George ever -really accepted me. He used to snub me most horribly and I don’t like -being snubbed.” - -“That reminds me that you haven’t any servant at all, Gloria, so you -really must stay here a few days longer. Perhaps I can find some for -you—she really can’t go back now, can she, John?” - -“Really, Angela, that’s unfair; of course I want Miss Mayfield to -stay—we planned to have everybody over the New Year. Perhaps Professor -Pendragon can persuade her.” - -“I have had little luck in persuading women to do anything—if Prince -Aglipogue had not left us so suddenly he might have been more -successful.” - -There was a little embarrassed silence around the table after Pendragon -had spoken, then Angela began talking of some irrelevant subject and the -conversation went on, but always Ruth observed that neither Gloria nor -Pendragon ever spoke directly to each other, though the omission was so -cleverly disguised that no one at the table observed it except Terry and -Ruth who always seemed to see everything together. Ruth had been so busy -with Gloria and her affairs that she had talked very little to Terry and -never alone; but they conversed nevertheless, constantly reading each -other’s eyes as clearly as they would a printed page. The same things -seemed to amuse them both and except in the realm of mystery which -Ruth’s childhood had built about her, they understood each other -perfectly. She knew now that he wanted to talk to her, but she pretended -not to see, for having begun her task of managing the happiness of -Gloria, she was determined to go on, and the person she wanted to see -alone was Professor Pendragon. - -Angela who always advertised her house as “one of those places where you -can do exactly what you please,” and therefore never on any occasion let -any one do as they pleased if she could possibly prevent it by a -continuous program of “amusement” and “entertainment,” was trying to -interest them in a plan to go skating that evening by moonlight on a -little lake that lay halfway between Fir Tree Farm and the village. Some -one had reported that the ice was clear of snow and what was the good of -being in the country in winter time if one didn’t go in for winter -sport? - -Her plans fell on rather unenthusiastic ears. The men, having enjoyed a -long hike in the morning, were not eager for more exercise; Gloria -wanted to spend the afternoon preparing to leave the next morning; Ruth -was not interested in anything that did not seem to offer any -furtherance of her plans for Gloria; and Miss Gilchrist didn’t skate. - -The very atmosphere seemed to say that the party was finished; that -these people had, for the time being, said all they had to say to each -other and for the time, and wanted to be gone along their several roads. -It is a wise hostess who recognizes this situation and apparently Angela -did recognize it, for she finally stopped urging her scheme and when -Gloria asked Ruth to help her pack—Gloria always went on a week-end -equipped as for transcontinental travel—Angela made no effort to detain -them or to go with them. - -Gloria’s moment of confidences had passed. She talked now, but of -Terry’s play. She had told him of her changed decision and he seemed -very happy about it. - -“Perhaps you’ll have a chance to make sketches of us,” she said to Ruth, -awakening again Ruth’s interest in the work to which she also was -returning. - -“We’ll find two women servants some place and go on as before, Ruth. -Except that I’m not going to see quite so many people—only people I -really like after this. You know I really love the old house—as near -home as anything I’ll ever have. Wish we could get Amy back.” - -“We can,” said Ruth. “Amy and I had an agreement when she left that she -would come back if you ever got rid of George. I have her address.” - -“Really, Ruth!” said Gloria, looking at her with genuine admiration, -“You are the most amazing young person I’ve ever met. You ought to write -a book on the care and training of aunts. It would be a great success.” - -Of this Ruth was not so sure. They were to leave on the morning train -and while she had accomplished half her purpose she had not wholly -succeeded. Gloria and Pendragon had met and now they were going to part -more widely separated than ever before, because their opportunity had -come and for some stupid reason they were both letting it go without -reaching out a hand or saying one word to make it their own. And Gloria -wasn’t happy—she was just normal at last, and a normal Gloria was rather -a pitiful thing. She was like stale champagne—all the sparkle gone out -of her. It seemed to Ruth that she could not live through another meal -with Gloria and Pendragon talking across and around each other—Pendragon -with his grave, quiet face in which the lines of pain seemed to be set -forever—Gloria, changed and quiet, determined to work and succeed again, -not for the joy of her work, but because it seemed the right thing to -do. Yet she did live through another dinner, a most unhappy meal at -which John and Angela sat trying to talk, realizing that something more -than they could quite understand had gone wrong and not knowing exactly -what to do about it. Terry and Miss Gilchrist relieved the tension -somewhat, Terry consciously, Miss Gilchrist unconsciously, because no -one else seemed able to talk, drew her out and once started on modern -child training, there was no reason for any one else making any effort. -She ran on endlessly with no more encouragement than an occasional, “Oh -quite, Really, Yes indeed, or How interesting!” from Terry or Pendragon. - -What hurt more than anything was that Terry no longer signalled Ruth -with his eyes. There was no longer any interest or invitation in them. -If he had had anything to say to her he had forgotten it or lost -interest, for now he seemed to avoid exchange of words or glances with -her as much as Gloria and Pendragon avoided each other. - -There was a feeble attempt on the part of Angela to start a conversation -with some semblance of animation over the coffee cups in the library -afterward, but finally even she surrendered as one by one they made -excuses of weariness, the early train or no excuse at all and drifted -away. - -Ruth watched for Pendragon’s going and followed him. He made his way to -the enclosed veranda. She stood a moment looking through the glass door, -watching him as he paced up and down, smoking a pipe. What she was going -to do required courage; she might only meet with the cold rebuff that is -due to meddlesome persons, but Gloria’s happiness was at stake and she -could only fail, so she walked timidly out to him. - -She waited patiently until he turned and faced her. She thought she saw -a look of disappointment cross his face when he saw who had interrupted -his solitude. That look, fancied or real, encouraged her to go on. - -“I wanted to thank you for doing what you did—for not giving up, and to -tell you how happy I am that you’re well again,” she began. - -“Yes—I am well again—I walk and eat and sleep and wake again—I am -alive.” - -“And I wanted to ask you if you’re going to stop now— You’ve saved -Gloria from George and from the Prince—are you going to let her go away -now that you have accomplished so much?” - -“My dear child, I can’t kidnap Gloria—she’s not the sort of woman one -kidnaps—not even the sort one woos and wins. She is the other sort—the -only sort worth while I think—the princess who calls her own swayamvara, -and makes her own choice.” - -“But she did choose.” - -“She has chosen too often.” - -“Do you mean that even if Gloria still loved you you would not marry her -just because she has—because she has—” - -All her old ideas and training rose up and kept her from finishing the -sentence “because she has had two other husbands.” - -“If Gloria had married one hundred men I would still want her—don’t you -understand that?” He spoke almost fiercely. “But you don’t -understand—you’re too young; it isn’t that; but Gloria doesn’t love me. -If she did she would tell me so. She knows that I love her and she has -shown very plainly that she doesn’t want my love. I appreciate your -kindness,” he went on in a calmer tone, “but don’t trouble any more—what -is written is written and can’t be changed no matter how one tries.” - -“If I give you my word of honour that Gloria does love you, what then? -She told me so—she does know that you love her, but she thinks you -don’t—she thinks the husbands make a difference. She doesn’t believe -that a man could understand that they were just—just incidents.” - -Neither laughed at the idea of this twenty-year old girl speaking of two -husbands as incidents, though later Ruth remembered it herself, and -thought it rather funny. - -He did not answer,—he was standing quite rigidly, staring at the door, -and, turning, Ruth saw Gloria approaching them: - -“I’m sorry; I thought you were alone, Ruth,” she said and hesitated as -if she would have gone back. - -“I’ve just remembered,” said Pendragon, “that the small star Eros is -supposed to be visible again about this time, but we have no telescope. -Ruth has not found it, though she has young eyes— Perhaps you and I, -together, Gloria—if we looked very closely—” - -Under the clear starlight she saw them in each other’s arms. There was -one very bright star, that seemed to hang lower in the sky than winter -stars are wont to hang. Surely it was the star of love, though doubtless -no astronomer had ever named it so. She did not know exactly where she -was going when she left them there, but she was very happy. And then -halfway down the stairs she sat down because her happiness was -overflowing from her eyes in tears and she couldn’t see, and suddenly -she felt very tired. It was there that Terry, ascending, found her. - -“I say—what’s wrong? You’re crying. I saw you with Pendragon—has he done -anything to hurt you? I’ll—” - -“No-it’s not that—I’m crying because I’m so happy—” - -“Oh!” - -He looked at her half-disappointed, half-relieved and wholly bewildered. - -“It’s Gloria and Pendragon—they’ve made up.” She reverted to the -vernacular of childhood. “I’m so happy because they’re happy.” - -“But I thought—I thought you cared for Pendragon,” stumbled Terry. - -“That’s funny—what made you think that? I do like him but mostly for -Gloria’s sake.” - -“Look here,” said Terry. “If you don’t love Pendragon who do you love?” - -She was smiling through her tears now. - -“Is it absolutely necessary that I should love some one? You know I -always thought that you loved Gloria. If you don’t love Gloria, whom do -you love?” - -For a moment he looked down into her upturned face, struggling against -the provocation of her lips. - -“I love the most charming, youngest, most mature, most unselfish, most -winsome—oh, there aren’t adjectives enough. Who do you love?” - -“The nicest—the very nicest and cleverest man in the world,” she -answered demurely. - -“Nicest—I’m not quite sure that I like that adjective applied to a man.” - -“I can’t help it—we can’t all have playwright’s vocabularies, you know. -I could draw him better.” - -He bent over very near to her while her clever fingers made rapid -strokes. When it was finished she looked up at him with shy daring in -her eyes. - -“Is my nose really like that?” he asked. - -“How did you guess who it was meant for?” she teased, and turned her -head quickly, because she was not quite sure even now that she was ready -for that wonderful first kiss. - -“I’ve always wanted to kiss you just below that little curl anyway,” -whispered Terry. “And now your lips, please.” - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 2. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as - printed. - 3. 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text-indent: 0em; } } - body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } - .figcenter {font-size: .9em; } - div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; } - div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } - .ph1 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; - margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Stars Incline, by Jeanne Judson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Stars Incline - -Author: Jeanne Judson - -Release Date: October 3, 2019 [EBook #60413] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STARS INCLINE *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><b>Transcriber’s Note:</b></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>THE STARS INCLINE</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>BY</div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>JEANNE JUDSON</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='small'>AUTHOR OF “BECKONING ROADS”</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='large'>McCLELLAND & STEWART</span></div> - <div class='c003'>PUBLISHERS       TORONTO</div> - <div class='c003'>1920</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1919</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='sc'>By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc.</span></div> - <div class='c002'>PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.</div> - <div class='c002'>The Quinn & Boden Company</div> - <div class='c003'>BOOK MANUFACTURERS</div> - <div>RAHWAY       NEW JERSEY</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003' /> -</div> - -<div class='section ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>THE STARS INCLINE</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>One can be nineteen and still know a great -deal of the world. Ruth Mayfield felt that -she knew a great deal of the world. She -could judge character, and taking care of Mother’s -business affairs had helped a lot, and like most young -women of nineteen she knew that if marriage offered -no more to her than it had offered to her parents, -she did not want to marry. Of course they hadn’t -quarrelled or anything, but they lived such dull lives, -and there were always money worries—and everything.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth had never told her mother any of these -things, especially after her father died and her -mother had cried so much and had seemed to feel -even worse than Ruth did, for Ruth <i>had</i> felt badly. -She had been awfully fond of her father, really -fonder of him than of her mother. He understood -her better and it was he who had encouraged her -to study art.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That was one of the things that set her apart -from other girls in Indianapolis. She was an art -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>student. One day she would do great things, she -knew.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When she was a very little girl she had intended -to write. She decided this because nothing gave her -so much pleasure as reading, not the sort of books -that delight the hours of the average childhood, but -books which, had her mother ever taken the trouble -to look at them, would have made her rather concerned -for the future of the small reader. But -Mrs. Mayfield never troubled to look. The books -all came from the Indianapolis public library, so -they must be all right. They were fairy tales at first -and later mythology. The mythology of the Greeks -and Romans which somehow never stepped out of -the marble for her; and the intensely human mythology -of the Icelanders and of the Celts which she -liked better, and later the mythology of India which -fascinated her most of all because it had apparently -neither beginning nor end. While her mother and -her mother’s friends were dabbling in Christian -Science and “New Thought” she was lost in the -mysteries of the transmigration of souls. Perhaps -it was all this delving into the past that gave to her -wide brown eyes what is called the spirituelle look—a -look decidedly contradicted by her sturdy body; -perhaps, too, it was extensive reading that finally -decided her not to try to write, but to express herself -in painting, a medium through which she could -depict emotions and dramas rather than ideas and -facts.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>There came to her at the age of fourteen a -development which, while it increased her faith in -things supernormal and for a while fascinated her -into a deeper delving into the religions of the East, -had the final effect of frightening her away from -things of the mind and turning her activities into -more beautiful channels. She had read of the objectification -of ideas and the materialization of -thoughts and wanted to try to do these things herself, -without quite knowing what exercise she should -make of her knowledge even though it came to her. -Like many people of a spiritual yet intense nature, -of her five senses the sense of smell was the keenest. -She liked flowers for their odour more than for colour -or form. One winter day when she had returned -home from school and was sitting alone with her -books—looking out at the snow-laden trees instead -of studying—she thought of spring and violets; she -was tired of winter, eager for the spring to come -again, and she tried to see violets, to catch their -scent and their colour. She closed her eyes and shut -out the winter room and the frost-rimmed window—all -around her in great warm waves of fragrance -rose the odour of violets—exquisite English violets -with the freshness of the woods in them. She took -deep breaths, keeping her eyes closed lest the -miracle should fade. Then when she had quite satisfied -herself that she really did smell violets she -opened her eyes. All about her on the floor, on the -table, covering her schoolbooks, they lay, great -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>heaps of odorous purple blossoms mingled with -rich green leaves. With a little cry of pleasure and -amazement she stretched out her hands to gather -them in and they were gone. The room was as it -had been before, but the odour was not gone. For -many minutes the fragrance of violets filled her nostrils. -She was afraid to close her eyes again to bring -back the vision, but the following day she tried -again, and many times afterward. She tried different -flowers, carnations and Chinese lilies. She could -not always see the flowers, but she seldom failed -with the odour. The game fascinated her so that -she spent every moment that she could find alone in -materializing flowers. Then came to her the desire -to take the next step—to make other people realize -her power. Her mother, being the least imaginative -person she knew as well as the one most conveniently -near, she decided to try with her. It was one evening -when her father was not at home. Her mother was -busy embroidering—one of those never to be finished -articles of no conceivable use, which occupy the -hands of women who have no active interest in life. -Ruth was pretending to read. She dared not shut -her eyes lest her mother should observe. But she -bent unseeing eyes over her book and concentrated -on the inner vision of the mystic—shutting out -everything except the thought of violets. They -were her mother’s favourite flower. For many seconds -after she herself was surrounded by the odour -of violets and could see them on her book, her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>mother did not speak. Then she looked up restlessly -from her embroidery.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you been using perfume, Ruth?—you -know I don’t approve of young girls—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, Mother, I haven’t. I haven’t any to use.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I smell perfume—violet perfume—it’s more like -real violets than just perfume—don’t you notice it? -The whole room is heavy with it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She dropped her embroidery and moved about the -room as if hunting for the flowers though she knew -there were none there.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It must have been my imagination—it’s gone -now. Strange, I was sure I smelt violets. I must -ask Doctor Gorton about it. It may be a dangerous -symptom.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not speak. She was rather ashamed -and not a little frightened. There was nothing of -the mischievous about her. She did not want to -play tricks. She had just wanted to test her power, -but this was the last time that she consciously tried -to use it. For some time the illusion of flowers persisted -whenever she thought of them, but she tried -not to think of them and before many months the -experiment was a thing of the past. It persisted in -Ruth only in a deep-rooted faith in the power of -mind, and in the truth of many things that the average -person considered superstition. When she -heard of deaths and births and marriages—of good -luck and bad luck—of coincidences and accidents, -it seemed to her that behind the obvious and accepted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>causes of all these things she could trace an inner -and spiritual reason—the working of forces that -laughed at the clumsy working of material -machinery. Yet she no longer delved. For a while -she actually made a conscious effort to look at life -in the ordinary way. She was helped in this by the -death of her father, which placed her in a position -of responsibility toward her invalid mother, and -made her life too full of reality to leave much room -for the occult and supernatural.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She hadn’t realized quite how much she had loved -her mother until she died. Mother had been old-fashioned -and fussy, but then all invalids were fussy, -and she had been a dear about letting her go on with -her studies after Father died, even though she -wouldn’t move to Chicago as Ruth wished. They -could have lived as cheaply in Chicago and Ruth -could have gone to the art institute there, but -Mother wouldn’t consent to the move. She wanted -to stay near her friends. Ruth couldn’t understand -that. Her mother’s friends were all such ordinary -people. Kind-hearted, but quite hopelessly ordinary. -It was curious that her mother’s death had realized -for her one of her most cherished dreams. Mother -knew that she was going to die. The doctors had -told her so, and she had told Ruth. It made Ruth -cry, but her mother didn’t shed any tears. That was -why Ruth did. If her mother had cried Ruth would -have been more controlled, but her mother was so -unnaturally calm.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>“When I am gone I want you to go to your -father’s sister, Gloria Mayfield. I hate to send you -there, but there’s no one else of your blood, and -you’re too young to live alone. Gloria has retired -from the stage and they say she is quite respectable -now, and besides you won’t be dependent on her. -Now that there will be no more doctors’ bills to pay, -there will be enough money for you to live on, more -than any young girl ought to have in her own hands. -It is all in trust and you will have just the income -until you are twenty-one.” Ruth made no comment -to this. Having handled her mother’s business affairs -she knew that her income would be very small -indeed, but she and her mother had different ideas -as to how much a young girl should spend. “Of -course I expect you to pay your way with your aunt,” -her mother went on. “But you must live with some -older woman and she is your father’s sister.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She said it as if the fact that Gloria Mayfield was -her father’s sister answered all arguments.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where does Aunt Gloria live, Mother?” asked -Ruth. She accepted the fact that her mother would -die soon without making an effort to persuade either -herself or her mother that there was any hope that -the doctors might be mistaken. She had known for -years that her mother would not live long. Doctors, -New Thought, Christian Science, and Theosophy -had all been appealed to without having any appreciable -effect on her mother’s health. Ruth being -perfectly healthy was inclined to have faith in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>New Thought. She disliked the Science because of -the word Christian, but was inclined to believe that -any one of these numerous things might have helped -if used alone. When her father had died first it had -seemed unreal—impossible almost, for Ruth and her -father had always expected her mother to go first, -though neither of them would have put such a -thought into words. It was just an unspoken understanding -between them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In New York,” Mrs. Mayfield had answered; -and Ruth was ashamed that her first thought on -hearing this amazing news was that in New York -she could study in the best American art schools.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How old is she?” asked Ruth. She had been -a bit troubled by her mother’s words about an older -woman. Ruth had no desire to go to New York -to be controlled by some elderly female relative.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. I never saw her. In her younger -days she was abroad a great deal, and then I never -cared to meet her. She was younger than your -father, quite a lot younger, but she must have -reached years of discretion by this time. I hope so -for your sake. Perhaps I’m not doing the right -thing by telling you to go to her, but after all she is -your father’s sister and will be your only relative -after I am gone.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you written to her—do you want me to -write?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. I didn’t write to her before and I can’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>start now. You will go to her after I’m gone -as your father’s daughter. Your claim on her is -through him, not me. You can write to her yourself -as soon—as soon as you know. Her address is in -that little red book on the desk—at least that was -her address five years ago, when your poor father -died. She didn’t come to the funeral, though she -did write to me, and she may have moved since. She -probably has. I think on the whole you’d better -write now so that the letter will have time to follow -her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did write and her aunt had not moved, for -by a curious coincidence Aunt Gloria’s answer came -on the very day that her mother died. At the time, -concerned with her grief, Ruth didn’t read the letter -very carefully, but afterward—after the funeral, -and after all the innumerable details had been settled, -she went back to it and read it again. She -didn’t know exactly what to think of it. It filled her -with doubts. Almost she persuaded herself to disregard -her mother’s wish and not go to Aunt Gloria -at all, but she had already told all her mother’s kind -friends that that was what she would do. It gave -her a logical excuse for refusing all of the offers of -the well-meaning women who asked her to come -and stop with them “for a few weeks at least until -you are more yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth realized that she had never felt so much -herself as she did now—rather hopelessly alone and -independent in a way that frightened her. These -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>kind women were all her mother’s friends, not hers. -She had none. She had always prided herself on -being different from other girls and not interested -in the things they cared for—boys and parties and -dress. Even at the art school she had found the -other students disappointingly frivolous. They had -not taken their art seriously as she did. The letter -was curious:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear child,” she had written, “by all means -come to me in New York if your mother dies. But -why anticipate? She’ll probably live for years. I -hope so. To say I hope so sounds almost like a lack -of hospitality and to send you an urgent invitation -to come, under the circumstances, sounds—This is -getting too complicated. Come whenever you need -me, I’m always at home now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And the letter was signed with her full name, -Gloria Mayfield. She had not even called Ruth -niece, or signed herself “your loving aunt,” or anything -that might be reasonably expected.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth might have lingered on at home, but she -had refused the hospitality of her mother’s friends -and the house was empty and desolate and she was -dressed in black. She hadn’t wanted to dress in -black, but she hadn’t the courage to shock people by -continuing to wear colours, so she hurriedly finished -all the ghastly business that some one must always -finish after a funeral, and then she packed her -trunks, putting in all the pictures and books that -she liked best, and took a train for New York. She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>had a plan in the back of her mind about a studio -there. She had never seen a real studio, but she had -read about them, and if Aunt Gloria proved disagreeable, -she would go and live in one. She wondered -a bit what sort of a place Aunt Gloria lived -in. The address sounded aristocratic and sort of -English, Gramercy Square. She liked the sound -of it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her mother’s death had hurt her cruelly, but she -was so young that already she was beginning to rebound. -The journey helped to revive her spirits. -Everything interested her, but her first sight of New -York disappointed her vaguely. If she had known, -her disappointment was caused only because the cab -driver took her down Fourth Avenue instead of -Fifth, and there was little to interest her in the dull -publishing buildings and wholesale houses, and she -missed even the shabby green of Madison Square. -Her spirits rose a bit when the cab turned into -Gramercy Square. All the fresh greenness of it, -the children playing within the iron-barred enclosure, -the old-fashioned houses and clubs and the -big, new apartment buildings looking so clean and -quiet in the morning sunlight, appealed to her. She -rather expected the cab to stop before one of the -apartment houses, but instead it stopped on the -north side of the park. Her aunt lived in a house -then. This was also cheering. The cab driver -carried her bag for her up the high steps and she -rang the bell with a fast-beating heart. She didn’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>know exactly what she had expected—perhaps that -Aunt Gloria would open the door in person—and she -started back when it was opened by a tall negro who -looked as startled as herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is Aunt Gloria—is Miss Mayfield at home?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you expected?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He spoke in a soft, precise voice unlike the voice -of any nigger Ruth had ever heard before. She -knew he must be a servant though he was not in -livery, and she looked at him as she answered, suddenly -impressed by his regular features, his straight -hair, and yellow-brown skin.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She didn’t know exactly when I’d come, but she -knew I was coming. I am her niece.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The servant picked up her bag, which the cab -driver had left beside her and opened the door wider -for her to come in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Mayfield is at home. I’ll let her know -that you are here if you will wait a few moments.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was in a wide hall now from which an open -staircase rose to rooms above. The hall was very -cheerful with white woodwork and grey walls hung -with etchings in narrow black frames. Uninvited -Ruth perched hesitatingly on the edge of a -Chippendale chair and waited. The coloured man -walked to the far end of the hall, opened a door -there and called:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Amy, come here, you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Amy came, a round, short, black woman of the -type most familiar to Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>To her the man evidently explained the situation, -but his soft voice did not carry to Ruth’s end of the -hall; not so the voice of Amy. Ruth could hear her -replies quite plainly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mis’ Mayfiel’ a’n yit had her breakfus’—I’se -jes now makin’ de tray—ef you sez so I’ll tell her, -but dis a’n no hour to be talkin’ to Mis’ Mayfiel’.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Both Amy and the man disappeared through the -door and soon Amy emerged again carrying a breakfast -tray. She went past Ruth and up the stairs. -Ruth was growing impatient and rather offended. -Of course she should have sent a wire, but even so, -Gloria Mayfield was her aunt and she should have -been taken to her at once. Evidently her aunt ate -breakfast in bed. Perhaps she was an invalid like -her mother. Ruth hoped not. Evidently too she -had a lot more money than Ruth had supposed. Her -impatience was not alleviated when Amy came down -the stairs again without speaking to her. It was unbearable -that she should sit here in the hall of her -aunt’s house, ignored like a book agent. In another -moment the man had reappeared.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Mayfield will see you as soon as she can -dress, Miss, and would you like breakfast in your -room or downstairs?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had picked up Ruth’s bag as he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve had breakfast,” said Ruth. She had indeed -eaten breakfast in Grand Central Station. It was -only seven o’clock in the morning when she arrived -in New York, and that had seemed rather an early -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>hour for even a relative to drop into her aunt’s -home unexpectedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She followed the servant up the stairs, mentally -commenting on how she hated “educated niggers.” -Yet she had to admit there was nothing disrespectful -in his manner. He set her bag down in one of -the rooms opening out of the circular landing and -asked for her trunk checks, and suggested sending -Amy up to make her comfortable. She gave him -the trunk checks, refused the offer of Amy’s help, -and when he had closed the door sat down to examine -her surroundings and wait for the appearance -of her aunt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There had been a certain charm about the -entrance hall and stairway of the house, but the -room in which she found herself was as uninteresting -as possible. It was large and high-ceiled and almost -empty and streamers of loosened and discoloured -wall paper hung from the walls. It was in the rear -of the house. The few essential pieces of furniture -in the room made it look even larger than it really -was. It looked like what it was, a very much unused -bedroom in a house very much too large for its -inhabitants. She walked to the window and looked -out, but the view did not interest her. It was only -of the rear of the houses on Twenty-second Street. -The house opposite had a tiny back garden that ran -out to meet a similar back garden in the rear of her -aunt’s house. Ruth did not call this plot of ground -a garden, because it had nothing growing in it except -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>one stunted, twisted tree on the branches of which -September had left a dozen pale green leaves. It -made her think of an anæmic slum child. Looking -at it Ruth felt suddenly very sad and neglected. She -had hoped that her aunt would not be too much like -a relative, but now she began to persuade herself -that she had looked forward to the embracing arms -of a motherly aunt, and her cold reception had quite -broken her heart. Instead of a fussy, motherly -relative she had found a cold, selfish woman living in -a house much too large, surrounded by servants—Ruth -had only seen two but there were probably -more. She was unwelcome; she had been shoved -off into the shabbiest room in the house by an insolent -servant. But she was not a pauper. She would tell -her aunt very coldly that she had only come to pay -her respects and was going immediately to an hotel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh no, Aunt Gloria; I couldn’t think of imposing -on you,” she could hear herself saying, and of -course then her aunt would urge her to stay, but -she wouldn’t. What could her aunt do in such a big -house? It was four floors and a basement. It must -be full of shabby, unused rooms like this one. Just -then there was a knock at the door, and she hadn’t -even smoothed her hair or powdered her nose as she -had intended doing before her aunt sent for her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come in,” she said. Her voice sounded husky -and unused. The words were scarcely out of her -mouth when the door opened and a woman swept -into the room—the tallest woman she had ever seen, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>at least six feet tall and slender without being thin—a -graceful tiger lily of a woman with masses of -auburn hair and big grey, black-lashed eyes and a -straight white nose and a crushed flower of a mouth. -With one hand she was holding a gorgeous, nameless -garment of amber silk and lace and the other hand -was held out to Ruth. Even as she took it Ruth -realized that it would have been preposterous to -have expected the goddess to kiss her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting—Ruth,” -she said. Her voice was like silver bells ringing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should have wired,” admitted Ruth. Her -voice sounded flat and toneless after hearing her aunt -speak.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It would have been awkward if I hadn’t happened -to be in town, but I was, so it’s all right. -You’re older than I thought, I was afraid that you’d -turn out a little girl.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you’re ever so much younger than I -thought, Aunt Gloria,” said Ruth, beginning to gain -her composure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thirty-five last birthday,” said her aunt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Immediately Ruth realized that thirty-five was -the only possible age for a woman. To be older or -younger than thirty-five was infinitely dull. She herself -at nineteen, which only a few moments ago she -had considered a very interesting age indeed, was -quite hopeless.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But come, we mustn’t stay in this awful room. -I didn’t tell George just where to take you. Certainly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>not here. I’ll have a room fixed up for you. -Did George send for your trunks? He said you’d -had breakfast, but that can’t be true—coffee perhaps, -but not breakfast—I only had coffee myself. -So we can eat together while they’re getting a room -ready for you.” She was sweeping Ruth along with -her down the stairs as she talked, not waiting for -answers to anything she said. At the foot she turned -and opened a door at the left of the staircase and -peered in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Too gloomy in the dining-room in the morning. -We’ll go in here,” and she turned to the other side, -opening a door into a big room, all furnished in soft -grey and dull gold. Ruth’s artist eye perceived -how such a neutral-tinted background was just the -thing to enhance the colourful appearance and personality -of her aunt. The only touch of vivid colour -in the room was in the hangings at the deep, high -windows that looked out on the park.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have Amy bring our breakfast in here,” said -Gloria, and then Ruth saw that George was standing -in the doorway of the room they had just entered, -though she had not heard her aunt call him. Later -she observed the same thing many times, that George -always appeared as if by magic and seemingly -without being called whenever her aunt wanted -him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The room was full of comfortable, low, cushioned -chairs, and seated on two of them with a table -between, on which George had laid a white cloth, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>Ruth and her aunt Gloria gave each other that full -scrutiny which surprise and embarrassment had -previously denied them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth could see now that her aunt was not really -so young as she had at first appeared. There were -fine lines around her large eyes and art, not nature -had painted her lashes black. Her fine brows had -been “formed” and there were little, pale freckles -gleaming on her white nose and across her long, -cleanly moulded hands. Ruth saw all these things -and they only strengthened her belief that Aunt -Gloria was the most beautiful and charming woman -in the world. She hoped very much that her aunt -would like her, but she was not sanguine about it. -She tried to tell herself that this woman was only -her father’s sister, but it was hard to believe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, tell me all about it,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s very little to tell. Mother died on the -tenth—your letter arrived on the same day. Of -course it wasn’t unexpected. She had been an invalid -for almost ten years, so it wasn’t a shock. I was -the only relative at the funeral, but Mother had ever -so many friends—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She paused, wondering if she ought to tell Aunt -Gloria about the flowers, the Eastern Star wreath, -and—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t mean that,” Gloria interrupted her -thoughts. “I mean how your mother happened to -suggest that you come here. You know Jack’s wife -didn’t approve of me—refused to meet me even, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>and I can’t understand. Was there some sort of -deathbed forgiveness, or what?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was the faintest trace of mockery in her -voice, but somehow Ruth could not be angry, though -she knew that this woman, her father’s sister, was -laughing at her dead mother and her dead mother’s -conventions and moralities. She decided that she -would be as frank as her aunt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, Aunt Gloria, I don’t think Mother’s views -had changed at all. She sent me here because -you are my only living relative and she thought I -was too young to live alone—and I came,” she continued -bravely, “because New York is the best place -in America to study art and I want to be a great -painter. But if you don’t want me here I’ll live -alone—I have money you know, and Mother intended -that I should pay my own way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I understand,” said Gloria, nodding. “That -would be in character—a sort of blood is stronger -than Bohemia idea.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And then,” continued Ruth, determined to be -absolutely frank, “I think Mother was under the -impression that you were older than you are, and -had settled down—you have retired from the -stage?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Again Gloria laughed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear child, I’ve done nothing but retire -from the stage ever since I first went on it, but that -doesn’t matter. I agree with your mother that you -will be much better off here with me than alone, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>I shall be very glad to have you—it means one more -permanent resident in this huge barn of a house. -Only please don’t call me Aunt. Call me Gloria. -My being your aunt is more or less of an accident. -The fact that I like you is of vastly more importance, -and if you like me we shall get on very well together.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think you’re wonderful,” admitted Ruth, -blushing deeply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very well, then, you shall stay here—you can -have two rooms or more if you want ’em, fixed up -to suit yourself, and you can spend your income on -your clothes and your education—but you will be -here as my guest, not as my relative. I dislike -relatives inordinately—don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without giving Ruth time to reply she went on:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you thought about where you’re going to -study?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I suppose there are a number of places.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There are, of course; the Art Students’ League -is one of the best. The associations there should be -good. You’ll be working with the strugglers. How -old are you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nineteen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nineteen and the whole world before you, work -and failure and success and New York and Paris -and your first love affair—you’re young and you -don’t have to nibble at the loaf; you can take big, -hungry bites, and when the time for nibbling does -come, you’ll have a banquet to remember.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>“Where is the Art Students’ League?” asked -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her aunt fascinated her; she talked “like a -book,” Ruth thought, but Ruth herself was practical -despite her dreaming and the talk of art schools interested -her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, it’s a school with small fees—if you have -a lot of talent they give scholarships—I don’t really -know much about it, except that it’s on Fifty-seventh -Street some place, and that it is supposed to be -proper and good. You might try it for a year—then -you’ll probably be wanting Paris. In another -year I may feel old enough to chaperon you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After breakfast they went through the house, -planning where Ruth should establish herself, finally -deciding on two rooms on the fourth floor, because -one of them had a skylight and could be used as a -studio, where Ruth could work undisturbed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The next few days were spent in buying furniture, -in having the rooms redecorated, and in becoming -familiar with New York.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was determined not to be impressed by anything, -a determination that led Gloria Mayfield to -suspect that her niece was of a phlegmatic temperament, -and to wonder why she wanted to be an artist. -Only the quiet sense of humour that Ruth displayed -at rare intervals, encouraged her to believe that -having her niece with her might not be a bad arrangement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth on her part discovered that her Aunt Gloria -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>had a wide and varied circle of friends and no -particularly well-defined scheme of existence. And -she discovered a little of Gloria Mayfield’s past, the -past that had been so shrouded in mystery in her -mother’s house. It was when Ruth had made a -remark about her aunt living alone in such a large -house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, it is large, but what am I to do?” said -Gloria. “My second husband wished it on me and -my third was kind enough to settle enough income -on me to pay the taxes, and there you are. Of -course I could let it to some one else, but it’s nice -to have a lot of room.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth could not disguise her shock and astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, didn’t you know?” asked Gloria, smiling -cheerfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I didn’t know you’d been married at all,” said -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only once, really—the others were almost too -casual. I supposed your mother had told you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did they die?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not to my knowledge—I never killed any of -them,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And Ruth put this conversation away in the back -of her brain for future reference, along with several -dozen other things that she didn’t exactly understand.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth would have liked a scholarship—not -because she could not easily afford the small -fees at the Art Students’ League, but because -a scholarship would have meant that she had unusual -talent; but she didn’t get one. No one seemed -particularly interested in her work. The woman who -enrolled her in the League was as casual as a clerk -in an hotel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The manner of the enrolment clerk and the -grandeur of the Fine Arts Building produced a feeling -of insignificance in Ruth that was far from -pleasant. She engaged her locker for the year, and -when she was led to it to put her board and paints -away, and saw the rows upon rows of other lockers, -she felt even smaller. Was it possible that all those -lockers were needed? That so many other girls and -boys were also art students? If there was an art -student for every locker and each of them shared -her determination to become a great painter, the -world would be so flooded with splendid art that -one might better be a stenographer. Then she comforted -herself that all of the students could not possibly -succeeded. Some of them, the girls especially, -would doubtless give up art for marriage and -babies. Some of the men would become commercialized, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>go in for illustrating or even advertising, but -she would go “onward and upward,” as her instructor -in Indianapolis had so thrillingly said. She -felt better after that; and seeing her reflection in -a shop window she felt better still. She wasn’t -beautiful, but she was interesting looking, she told -herself. The way she combed her almost black hair -down over her ears Madonna fashion, her little low-heeled -shoes, her complete absence of waist line, all -marked her as “different.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had enrolled for the morning class in portrait -painting from 9:00 to 12:30 and the afternoon class -in life drawing from 1:00 to 4:30 and she would -attend the Friday afternoon lectures on anatomy. -They began at 4:30, after the first of November, so -she could go direct from her life class to the lecture. -She would have liked to attend some of the -evening classes, too, but Gloria had suggested that -she wait a bit.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My word, child, it’s all right to work hard. One -must work hard, but don’t spend twenty-four hours -a day at it. It’s bad enough to begin at the unearthly -hour of nine in the morning without spending -your evenings there, too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Afterward Ruth was glad that she had not enrolled -in any of the evening classes. She usually -returned to the house on Gramercy Square about five -o’clock in the afternoon, just when Gloria’s day -seemed to be properly begun, and there were always -people there who interested Ruth, though she took -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>little part in the conversation. Ruth would come -into the hall, her sketches under her arm, and Gloria -would call to her and she would walk into the big -comfortable room and be introduced to half a dozen -people, whose names she seldom remembered. The -people would nod to her and go on with their conversation, -and she would sit back listening and -watching, feeling more like an audience at a play -than one of the group of people in a drawing-room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Most of the conversation was quite meaningless -to her, but there was one man, one of the few who -did not change in the ever-changing group, who interested -her intensely. She gathered that he was a -playwright and that he had written the book and -lyrics for a musical comedy that was to have its -New York <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">première</span></i> soon. One of the other men -called him a show doctor, and said that he had -written lines into over half the shows on Broadway.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All of the other people seemed to think him -“terribly clever,” but Ruth didn’t understand all of -the things at which they laughed. They were always -begging him to sing his latest song, and he never -demurred, though any one could tell with half an -ear that he hadn’t any voice at all. He sang in a -queer, half-chanty voice, with a curious appealing -note in it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you really like his singing?” she once asked -Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“His voice, you mean?” Gloria looked at her -with the little frown between her eyes and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>amused twist to her mouth that Ruth often observed -when her aunt was explaining things to her. “Of -course not; it’s not his voice, it’s his song. He’s -the cleverest song writer in New York, and he’s -already written two fairly successful plays. He’s -young, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is he? I thought he must be thirty at least.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Gloria laughed outright.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is about thirty, but that isn’t old. He’s a -funny, old dear, don’t you think so?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” admitted Ruth. “He dresses oddly—that -is—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know what you mean, but you see a man like -Terry Riordan doesn’t have to keep his trousers -pressed. No other man is worth listening to while -Terry is in the room.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth decided that she would pay particular attention -to Terry Riordan the next time she met -him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her opportunity came the next day. She had gone -out to lunch that day and had been a little late at -life class in consequence, and had to stand up at an -easel in the back instead of sitting among the more -fortunate ones in the front rows, where early arrival -had usually placed her. The model was a man—“Krakowski, -the wrestler,” one of the girls had -whispered to her. “He’s got a wonderful body; -we’re lucky to get him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth could not control a little gasp of admiration -when he stepped on the model throne. He looked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>like a statue with his shining smooth-muscled body, -and he stood almost as still. It was several minutes -before Ruth could get the proper, impersonal attitude -toward him. Most of the models had quite -uninteresting faces, but Krakowski had a face almost -as handsome as his body, and there was a half smile -on his lips as if he were secretly amused at the -students. For a second Ruth saw them through his -eyes—thin, earnest-eyed girls, dressed in “arty” -garments, squinting at him over drawing-boards as -if the fate of nations depended on their work, well-dressed -dabblers and shabby strugglers after beauty. -She noted again the two old women, the fat one with -the dyed hair, and the ribbons and art jewelry and -the thin one whose hair was quite frankly grey. The -fat one had attracted Ruth’s attention the very first -day because in the rest period she ran around insisting -that every one near her should look at her -work and offer criticism, and when the instructor -came through she monopolized as much of his time -as possible to his obvious annoyance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Why didn’t they think of studying art twenty -years ago? Ruth wondered. It seemed to her that -the model was thinking the same thing. Then she -forgot his face and began to block in her sketch.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The girl next to her had a scholarship, her name -was Dorothy Winslow, a rather pretty, widemouthed -girl with a shock of corn-coloured bobbed -hair and very merry blue eyes. Out of the corner -of her eye Ruth watched her work. She had large, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>beautiful hands and the ends of her slim fingers were -always smudged with charcoal or blotted up with -paint. She wore a painting-smock of purple and -green batik. Ruth was tremendously impressed, -but tried not to be. She was torn between a desire -to dress in the same manner and a determination to -consider herself superior to such affectations and -remain smug in the consciousness of her conventional -dress. Still she did wonder how she would look with -her hair bobbed. How fast Dorothy Winslow -worked. Her pencil seemed so sure. Never mind, -she must not be jealous.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Facility? Facility is dangerous—big things -aren’t done in a few minutes—Rome wasn’t built in -a day,” she said to herself in the best manner of -her instructor in Indianapolis. One thing that -puzzled her was the way the instructors left the -students alone. They were there to teach, why -didn’t they do it? Instead, they passed around -about twice a week and looked at the drawings -and said something like “You’re getting on all -right—just keep it up,” or now and then really gave -a criticism, but more often just looked and passed -on to the next without a word in the most tantalizing -manner possible. The reticence of the instructors -was amply balanced by the loquacity of the students. -They looked at each other’s work and criticized or -praised in the frankest manner possible, and seemingly -without a hint of jealousy or self-consciousness. -It was time to rest. The model left the throne and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>immediately the students all left their drawing-boards -to talk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dorothy Winslow leaned over Ruth’s shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s really awfully nice, the way you’ve got -that line,—” she pointed with one long, slim charcoal-smudged -finger.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think so? Thank you,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Krakowski’s lovely to work from, anyway. I’d -love to paint him. He’s got such an interesting -head.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes—it distracted me from my work a little,” -admitted Ruth. “Why, you’ve almost got a finished -sketch,” she continued, looking at Dorothy’s board.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I always work fast,” admitted Dorothy, “but -I’ll do it all over again a dozen times before the -week is finished.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wonder how she happened to take up art,” -said Ruth, nodding toward the broad back of the -fat lady with the dyed hair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, she’s—she’s just one of the perpetual -students—they say she’s been coming here for ten -years—didn’t they have any perpetual students -where you came from? But perhaps this is your first -year?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I studied a year in the Indianapolis Art -School and we didn’t have any perpetual art students. -Is the one with grey hair a perpetual student, -too?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; we had one, a man too, in San Francisco -where I came from.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>“Why do they do it? Isn’t it rather pitiful, or -are they rich women with a fad?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, indeed, they’re not rich. I never heard of -a perpetual student who was rich. Why, Camille -De Muth, the fat one, sometimes has to pose in the -portrait class to earn money to pay for her life.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How does she live?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear Lord, as well ask me why is an art student -as how does one live—how do any of us live, -except of course the lucky ones with an allowance -from home?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>All the time she was talking, Dorothy Winslow -was moving her hands, defying all the laws of physiology -by bending her long fingers back over the tops -of them, and by throwing one white thumb out of -joint.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you haven’t told me why they do it—why -they keep on studying year after year. Don’t they -try to make any use of what they’ve learned?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not that I ever heard of—they’re just—just -art artists. They spend their lives in class and at -exhibitions, but I’ve never tried to understand -them—too busy trying to understand myself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do they do when they’re not here?” asked -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They spend their leisure in the cool marble twilight -of the Metropolitan, making bad copies of old -masters.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The model had reappeared and they went back -to their boards, but after class Ruth found that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>Dorothy Winslow was walking by her side toward -Fifth Avenue.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you go downtown?” asked Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” admitted Ruth. She was really very much -interested in Dorothy, but she was a bit afraid that -the girl would attract attention on the street. She -now had a vivid blue tam with a yellow tassel on -her fluffy hair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you go?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“On the ’bus,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So do I, when I can afford it; when I can’t I -walk, but I guess I can spend the dime today. I got -some fashion work to do last week.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fashions?” Ruth could not keep the scorn -out of her voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, I know how you feel about that, but one -can’t become Whistler or Sargent all in a day, and -paint and Michelet paper and canvas cost money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You must be awfully clever to be able to earn -money with your work already,” admitted Ruth, a -bit ashamed of herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have talent,” admitted Dorothy, “but then -so many people have talent. I’ve got an idea that -work counts a whole lot more than talent, but of -course that’s an awfully practical, inartistic idea—only -I can’t help it. I had to come to New York -and I couldn’t come without a scholarship, so I -worked and got it. What do you think about it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Work counts of course, but without the divine -spark of genius—one must have talent and genius, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>and then work added makes the ideal combination. -Why, if only hard work were necessary, any one, -any stevedore or common labourer or dull bookkeeper, -could become a great artist.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That doesn’t sound so silly to me. I really think -they could, if the idea only occurred to them and -they didn’t give up. I think any one can be anything -they please, if they only please it long enough.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was like Ruth to answer this with a quotation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think so,” she said. “‘There is a destiny -that shapes our ends, rough-hew them as we may.’”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps, but some people do a lot more rough-hewing -than others, and I’m going to hew my way -to a position as the greatest American portrait -painter, and it won’t be so rough either.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Before such blind self-confidence Ruth was dumb. -She also intended to be a great something or other -in the world of art, but she had never thought -definitely enough about it to decide just what it would -be. She did think now, or spoke without thinking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I’ll be the greatest landscape painter—landscapes -with figures.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Before they parted at Twentieth Street, Ruth had -promised to go to an exhibition with Dorothy on the -following Saturday.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria had given her a latch key and she went into -the house on Gramercy Square without ringing the -bell. She expected to hear her aunt’s voice, but instead -a man’s voice called out:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That you, Gloria?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>She answered by walking into the drawing-room, -disappointed at not finding Gloria there.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where is Gloria?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They both said it at once, and then they both -laughed. Terry Riordan was very appealing when -he laughed. He had risen at her entrance, and was -standing loose-limbed yet somehow graceful in his -formless tweeds.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve been waiting at least an hour for her, -though it was obvious that George didn’t want me -here. He quite overpowered me with big words and -proper English to explain why he thought my waiting -quite uncalled for.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s like that, but Gloria is sure to come if you -wait long enough,” said Ruth, sinking wearily into -a chair and dropping her sketches beside her on the -floor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Even if she doesn’t I couldn’t find a more comfortable -place than this to loaf. I’m too nervous to -be any place else in comfort. The show opens tonight. -It was all right at the tryout in Stamford, -but that doesn’t mean much. I want a cigarette, and -George frightened me so that I didn’t dare ask him -where they are.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Frightened? You, Mr. Riordan?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There, you looked like Gloria then. You are -relatives, of course, same name and everything, but -I never noticed any resemblance before. Suppose -you must be distant relatives.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria says we must be very distant relatives in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>order to be close friends,” said Ruth, dodging the -invitation to tell the extent of her relationship to -Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“As for the cigarettes, there should be some in -the blue Ming jar over there, or, if you prefer, you -can roll your own. There’s tobacco in the box—Gloria’s -own tobacco.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thanks; I suppose I could have found it myself, -but I was actually afraid to look around—George -gave me such a wicked look—he did indeed,” -said Terry. “What a wonderful woman -Gloria Mayfield is,” he continued as he lit a -cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know,” said Ruth. “No wonder she has so -many friends.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Every one loves Gloria,” continued Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You love her?” asked Ruth. She felt that this -man was confiding in her. She wondered if he had -proposed to Gloria and if his suit was hopeless. -She felt sorry for him, but even while she sympathized -she could not keep the three husbands out -of her mind. Three husbands were rather overwhelming, -but four! Somehow, it didn’t seem quite -right, even for so amazing a woman as Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should say I do love Gloria. Why, she lets -me read everything I’ve written and always applauds. -That’s one of the things I came for today. -I’ve written that number for Dolly Derwent. Want -to hear it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, please; I’d love to hear it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>“Got to tell some one,” said Terry, and without -waiting for further encouragement, he began singing -in his queer, plaintive voice, that made his words -sound even more nonsensical than they were, a song -the refrain of which was:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c003'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<i>Any judge can recognize</i></div> - <div class='line'><i>A perfect lady by her eyes,</i></div> - <div class='line'><i>And they ain’t got nothing, they ain’t got nothing,</i></div> - <div class='line'><i>They ain’t got nothing on me.</i>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think that’ll get across? You know -Dolly Derwent. Don’t you think that will suit -her?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now, Ruth had never seen Dolly Derwent, and -looking at Terry Riordan she suddenly decided to -drop pretence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve never seen her,” she admitted, “and while -I suppose your songs are awfully clever and funny, -I don’t know anything about the stage and half the -time I don’t know what you’re all talking about. -You see I haven’t been in New York long and I -spend most of my time at the Art Students’ League -and I’m afraid I’m not much good as a critic.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a few moments Terry did not answer. He -just looked at her, smiling. His smile diffused a -warm glow all round her heart as if he were telling -her that he understood all about her and rather -admired her for not understanding all the stage -patter.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>“Suppose you show me your sketches. I don’t -know any more about art than you do about the -stage, so then we’ll be even,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s nothing here that would interest you—just -studies from the life class.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I say there’s an idea for a number—chorus of -art students in smocks and artists’ caps and a girl -with an awfully good figure on a model throne—no, -that’s been used. Still there ought to be -some sort of an original variation of the theme.” -He took out his notebook and wrote something -in it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Shall I bring tea, Miss Ruth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>George was standing in the doorway, having appeared -suddenly from nowhere.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, thank you, George—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps if we go on just as if we weren’t waiting -for Gloria, she’ll come.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d forgotten that we were waiting for her,” said -Terry. “Do you know, I think that nigger is -jealous of me—you know, as dogs are sometimes -jealous of their mistress’ friends—and he’s only -being civil now because I’m talking to you instead -of Gloria. Some day he’s going to put something in -my high ball.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What a terrible thing to say,” said Ruth. -“I’m sure George is perfectly harmless. It’s only -that he doesn’t talk like other niggers.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t call him a nigger!” exclaimed Terry, -pretending to be shocked. “Hasn’t Gloria told you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>that he is a Hindoo—half-caste I imagine, and he -came from some weird place, and I heartily wish -he’d return to it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A Hindoo—that explained George’s appearance, -but it made him more puzzling as a servant than -before. He was not like the imaginations of Hindoos -that her reading had built up, but perhaps as -Terry said he was a half-caste. Terry’s words, for -the moment, surprised her out of speech.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here’s Gloria now,” he said. “We must stop -talking treason. She thinks she has the best servants -in the world.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria came in, filling the room with cold outer -air mingled with the odour of the violets pinned on -her sables.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just look who’s here,” she said, holding a small, -plump, frizzled, blond woman of about forty in -front of her. “Billie Irwin—she came over from -London with the unfortunate ‘Love at First Sight’ -company, and here she is with no more engagement -than a trapeze performer with a broken leg—you -know her, don’t you, Terry?—well, anyway you -know her now, and this is Ruth Mayfield—not in the -profession, an artist of a different kind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How interesting!” murmured Billie Irwin.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tea? Take it away, George—we don’t want -tea. I want dinner just as soon as Amy can get it. -We’re all going to see the opening of ‘Three Merry -Men.’ You thought I was going to fail you, didn’t -you, Terry? But we’re not, we’ll all be there. And, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>George, do get a room ready for Miss Irwin. She’s -going to stay for a few days with me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She means a few months,” whispered Terry to -Ruth, thereby establishing between them a secret -confidence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That night Ruth got a new impression of Terry -Riordan. He did not stay to dinner, though Gloria -asked him, but he met them at the theatre. Every -one seemed to know him and treated him as quite -an important person. It was her first experience of -a first night, and she got the impression that these -people were waiting through the acts for the intermissions -instead of waiting through the intermissions -for the acts. Terry wasn’t in their box, he had a seat -in the back of the theatre with Philip Noel, who had -written the music, but he slipped in and out during -the evening to chat and to hear words of praise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you think it’s going to go?” Gloria -asked him when he returned to their box after the -first intermission.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Badly, I’m afraid; I met several of the newspaper -men out there, and they seemed to like it. If -the critics like it, it’s almost sure to close in three -weeks,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I won’t believe it. It is sure to have a long -run,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“God knows I did my best to lower the moral -tone of the thing and make it successful,” said -Terry. “If it will only run long enough to give -me some royalties, just long enough to keep me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>going until my comedy is finished, I won’t -care.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They chatted on, commenting on the people on -the stage until Ruth lost all sense of illusion. They -took away from her the fairyland sense that had -formerly made the theatre a joy, and as yet she had -not acquired the knowledge of stagecraft that gives -the stage a stronger fascination for theatrical folk -than for the people who have never seen it in any -way except from “out front.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She knew that the music was all stolen from -something else, for a composer, a rival of Philip -Noel, who had dropped in to chat with Gloria, had -said so; that in an effort to do something original -the costumer had produced frightful results, for -Terry Riordan had commented on it, and Billie -Irwin had spoken of how often the leading woman -flatted her notes. Her voice had been bad enough -when she started ten years ago, and now it was quite -hopeless.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry Riordan had not spoken to Ruth since -their arrival, when he had pretended to be quite -overcome with the grandeur of her gown. Since -then he had devoted himself entirely to Gloria. -Ruth couldn’t blame him for that. Gloria made -every one else appear colourless. No wonder Terry -Riordan loved her. It was foolish of her to let him -occupy her thoughts. No man in his right mind -would give her a second thought in the presence of -Gloria. Even the thought that she was an art student -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>no longer brought comfort. There were so -many art students in New York. Still she could -not keep Terry out of her mind. It was not that -she thought him a genius. Indeed, she rather -scorned his slapstick lyrics. New York might bow -down before his frayed cuff cleverness, but she was -from the Middle West, where men are rated by -what they have done, not what they are going to -do. She couldn’t analyse exactly what it was about -Terry Riordan that stirred her emotions,—some -sympathetic quality in his voice perhaps, his never-failing -cheerfulness and his absolute confidence in -his own future. She was rather glad that he didn’t -talk to her very much, for she blushed whenever -he spoke to her. She had blushed when he spoke -about her frock and old John Courtney had commented -on it in his absurd exaggerated manner.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How charmingly you blush, Miss Mayfield,” he -had said. “You must pardon an old gentleman for -speaking of it, my dear, but I dare say it is the -only genuine blush that Broadway has seen these -forty years.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>If it had been possible to be annoyed by anything -the ancient matinée idol said, Ruth would have -been annoyed, especially as it momentarily attracted -the attention of every one to the party, to herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>John Courtney was another of Gloria’s admirers.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The best actress in New York,” he whispered -to Ruth. “But she hasn’t had an engagement for -three years. She won’t take anything but leads, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>there isn’t a man who dares play opposite her. It’s -not alone that she’s so tall—though no man likes to -play opposite a woman from one to five inches -taller than he—it’s her personality. She fills the -stage. The other players are just so much background.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Later even John Courtney seemed to forget the -existence of Ruth, and she sat back in the crowded -box in the crowded theatre quite alone. She could -not even watch the stage—for they had reduced the -people on it to a group of ordinary individuals -working at their trade. She had a little sketch pad -and a pencil with her and began making caricatures -of the principals. She became absorbed in this and -forgot to feel alone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That nose is wonderful and that’s just her -trick with her hands. I didn’t know you were a -cartoonist.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was Terry Riordan looking over her shoulder. -She had not known he was in the box.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not a cartoonist,” she said, making an effort -to hide her sketch pad. “I was only doing it for -fun.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But they’re great; let me see the others. I had -no idea you were so talented. I thought you just -daubed around with paint.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>From any one else the words would have been -cruel enough, but from Terry Riordan they were -almost unbearable. She could hardly keep the tears -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>“That isn’t talent,” she managed to articulate. -“It’s just facility. I am studying painting—I never -do this sort of thing seriously—I was just playing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had taken the sketches from her and was looking -at her in puzzled wonder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you mean to say you don’t want to do this -sort of thing—that you consider it beneath your -talent?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It doesn’t interest me.” She spoke with as much -dignity as she could muster. For a moment he -looked troubled, then his irresistible smile came.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Never mind, I understand,” he said. “Ten -years ago I intended to be a modern Shakespeare—and -just see the awful end to which I’ve come.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then the curtain went up, and she did not -notice that he had not returned her sketches.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Up to this time Gloria had been the gayest person -there—so gay that Ruth thought that she had -forgotten her existence. She was in the chair in -front of Ruth, and had apparently been absorbed -in the play and the conversation of the people with -her. Suddenly she rose and left the box, pausing -just long enough to whisper in Ruth’s ear, “I’m -going home; Billie will explain.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The others in the box didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps -they thought Gloria had gone back stage to -see some friend and would return. It was only -when the final curtain fell and Terry came back to -ask them to go to supper that her absence was explained.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>“Where’s Gloria?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gone home,” said Billie. “She asked me to -explain to you that she had to go.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But why?” asked Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because she wanted to—you know Gloria—sudden -fit of depression, because she isn’t working -and wants to work. Why don’t you write a play for -her, Terry?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will one day perhaps—if I can, but I so -wanted her tonight. Let’s follow her home and -drag her out again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not if you value her friendship,” said Billie. -“Aren’t there enough of us here to make a supper -party?” She smiled coyly at him, shrugging her -plump shoulders and turning her pale eyes at him -in an ingénue ogle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course—we’ll try to be as merry as possible -without her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think if you’ll help me find a cab I’ll go -home to Gloria,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You too?” Terry looked at her reproachfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d rather if you don’t mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We can’t allow you to go alone. I shall be -most happy,” said John Courtney.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No indeed. I know that you don’t want to -miss a word of what they say about Terry’s play, -and I’d rather go alone. The others would never -forgive me for taking you away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that it was easy for her to slip away into -the darkness and seclusion of a cab, alone with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>thousands in the checked thoroughfare. She wanted -to get away from Terry Riordan and his success. -She thought she was escaping for the same reason -that Gloria had run away, but Gloria could not be -as unhappy as she, for Gloria had had her success. -Terry Riordan knew that Gloria was a great actress, -but he didn’t know that she, Ruth Mayfield, was a -great painter, at least a potential great painter. He -had suggested that she was a cartoonist and he had -thought that he was paying her a compliment. -Years from now, when she became a beautiful, -fascinating woman of thirty like Gloria, even in -imagination she couldn’t make herself quite thirty-five—they -would meet again. It would be at a private -view at the Academy, and he would be standing -lost in wonder before the picture she would have -hung there. Every one would be talking about her -and her work, and then they would meet face to -face. There would be no condescension in his -words and smile then—</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was imagining childish nonsense. By the -time she had won her success, Terry would be married -to Gloria. It was easy to see that he loved -Gloria. Why not? No one could be so beautiful -or so charming as Gloria. It was silly to dream of -Terry Riordan’s love, but she would win his admiration -and respect. After all, marriage had never -held any place in her plans. She didn’t want to -marry. She wanted to be a great painter. One -must make some sacrifices for that. The cab turned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>into the great quiet of Gramercy Square. A soft -mist hung over the trees, like quiet tears of renunciation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was startled to see lights gleaming in all the -lower windows of the house. Inside she found -George sitting on the lower step of the stairs. He -rose as she entered, but did not respond when she -spoke to him. The doors into the drawing-room -were open and she looked in. Lying face down on -the floor, still fully dressed, was Gloria and scattered -around her were the violets from the bouquet -she had been wearing. She was quite motionless, -and Ruth dared not speak to her. Evidently -George was keeping watch.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can I do anything?” she whispered to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He shook his head and pointed silently up the -stairs. She went, hurrying up the three flights as -if the act of going up lifted her above her own -discontent and above the unhappiness of Gloria. -She went into the studio and looked at the canvas -on which she had been working. It was hard to -wait until morning to begin on it again. It had -been a week since she had touched it. When she -began she had intended rising early to get an hour’s -work before breakfast, but evenings in the company -of Gloria and her friends had kept her up late and -youth claimed its need of rest despite her firmest -resolves. It was no good, the picture, anyway. She -would paint it all out and begin over again. She -would spend her Sundays in the country with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>other art students, sketching. She had not entered -into the student life enough. And she had entered -into Gloria’s life too much. If she had been taking -her work more seriously she would not have had -time to fall in love with Terry Riordan. She did -not question that it was love that had come into her -life to complicate things. In Indianapolis it had -all seemed so simple. There were paint and canvas -and her hands to work with, and she would study -and work and exhibit and become famous. Now it -was made plain to her that art itself was not a matter -of paint and canvas and exhibitions, or even of -work as Dorothy Winslow had said, but a matter -of men and women, and competition and struggle -and love and hate and jealousy and thwarted ambitions -like those of the woman who lay down there -prostrate with defeat. The defeat that was such a -tragic jest—a great talent useless because the actress -was too tall. If success was dependent on such -things as that of what use to struggle and work? -Crouched on the floor before her canvas she looked -up through the skylight at a star, and soft tears -moved slowly down her cheeks, tears for herself -and for Gloria and for all the unfruitful love and -labour in the world.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ever since her conversation with Dorothy -Winslow, Ruth had wondered whether it -would not be better if she had taken painting -and composition instead of portrait painting in the -morning. But she didn’t like to give up the portrait -painting and she knew that if she suggested attending -one of the evening classes Gloria would object -that she was working too hard. Of course she was -her own mistress, but it wasn’t pleasant to meet with -opposition nevertheless.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She spoke to Dorothy about it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can’t get everything in a year, and it all -counts. I don’t think one can tell exactly what one’s -forte is until one has studied for some time. Better -keep on as you are. Certainly don’t give up the portrait -class. Bridgelow is wonderful,” Dorothy had -assured her, “and you may not get a chance to -study under him again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed to Ruth that she was living a sort of -double life, her hours among the art students were -so separate from her life with the people at the -house on Gramercy Square. And in a way she was -not actually a part of either life. Among the students -she felt a certain reticence, because they were -most of them, at least the ones she had met, very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>obviously poor. They were paying their own way -by working at things far removed from art. One -of the girls painted stereopticon slides for illustrated -songs, and some of the boys worked at night as -waiters. They lived in studios and cooked their own -meals, and Ruth was ashamed to let them know -exactly where or how she lived. She heard their -chatter of parties to which she had not been invited, -and she could not control the feeling that she was -inferior to these people because she had an assured -income.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The morning following the opening of Terry -Riordan’s play Ruth had left the house without seeing -Gloria, and the thought of her aunt as she had -last seen her, was with her all morning. In the -brief time between classes she was glad to join the -group of students who always hurried to a little -restaurant on Eighth Avenue for a bite of lunch, or -a “bolt of lunch” as Nels Zord called it. Nels -was a Norwegian, possibly twenty-five years old -who spent every other year studying. He was supposed -to have a great amount of talent and he sometimes -sold things—seascapes mostly, small canvases -of a delicacy that seemed incredible in view -of his huge, thick hands. When he was not in -New York, he went on long voyages as a sailor -before the mast, where he satisfied his muscles with -hard work and his soul with adventure and gathered -material to be painted from half finished -sketches and from memory when he returned to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>New York. He had gone to sea first as a boy of -fifteen, from his home in Seattle and always chose -sailing vessels from preference. He had two passions, -art and food, and had never yet been known -to give a girl anything but the most comradely attentions, -which was, perhaps, why he was so much -sought after by them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth, Dorothy, and Nels walked together to the -lunch room. All of the students were talking about -the water colour show that was to open at the -Academy the following Tuesday. On Monday -evening there was to be a private view, and Nels -Zord, by virtue of being an exhibitor was one of the -few students who would be admitted. He was permitted -one guest and had surprised every one by -inviting Dorothy Winslow. She told the news to -Ruth as they walked along.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I didn’t,” said Nels with what seemed to Ruth -unnecessary rudeness. “You invited yourself, and -I hadn’t asked any one else. Might as well take -you as any one.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Far be it from me to care how I get there,” -said Dorothy with perfect good nature. “It’s a -shame that Ruth can’t go too. You’ve never been -to a private view at a big show like this, have you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, and I’d love to go, but I suppose there’s -no chance.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll tell you what; I think I know how you can -get it,” said Nels. “I know a chap, old fellow, one -of the patrons. He always goes and he’s always -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>alone. I don’t see why he wouldn’t take you—he’s -not one of those old birds who goes in for -young girls—not old enough I guess—and you’re -quiet looking and everything. You know he ought -to be proud to take you,” he ended up in what was -for him a burst of enthusiasm, but Ruth was rather -inclined to be offended.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really, I’d much rather not go than to go in -that way—” she began explaining.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now don’t be foolish,” interrupted Dorothy. -“You know that any one of us will go in any way -possible. It doesn’t matter how we get there so -long as we do get there. At the private view we’ll -have a chance to really see the pictures and to hear -the criticisms of the people whose opinion counts. -Do be sensible and come with us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course I want to go, just as all of us do,” -admitted Ruth, “but not badly enough to go as the -unwelcome guest of a man I’ve never met.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t understand,” said Nels. “He won’t -be taking you there, exactly. It’s just this way. -He’s allowed one guest, I’ve never known him to -bring one. Some one might just as well use that -guest card. He’s a friend of mine and I’ll ask him -for it. If it’s necessary for him to appear with you, -we can all meet at the Academy. By the way, a private -view is awfully dressy—have you got evening -things?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth wasn’t surprised at the question. She knew -that lots of the students considered themselves -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>lucky to possess one costume suitable for the street. -She knew two girls who shared a studio and one -evening gown together. They wore the gown turn -about, and couldn’t both accept an invitation to the -same party. Knowing these things she nodded -without comment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course, she has everything,” explained -Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I haven’t you know—always put on my -Latin quartier clothes, things I never dared wear in -Paris, but they go big enough here, especially when -worn by an exhibitor,” said Nels.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know what I shall wear—probably borrow -a frock from some one.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Would you—do you think you could wear one -of mine?” asked Ruth hesitatingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“D’you mean to say you’ve got two?” asked -Dorothy with mock amazement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you think it can be arranged without too -much trouble, I would like to go,” admitted -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Simplest thing in the world,” said Nels who was -rather proud of his influential friend.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The conversation about the water colour show -drove thoughts of Gloria out of Ruth’s mind until -she started homeward from the League. She wondered -how Gloria would look, whether she would -dare speak of the happening of the night before, -whether Gloria would be shut in her own room and -refuse to see her.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>Gloria’s voice called joyously to her as she opened -the door. She was standing in the midst of innumerable -garments, frocks, hats, shoes, lingerie, -gloves, all in a state of wild confusion, while George -dragged huge trunks into the few empty spaces on -the floor, and Amy stood by, trying to fold and -classify garments as Gloria threw them about.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m going to Palm Beach—want to come -along?” she called cheerfully.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t very well leave school, Gloria, but if -you want to close the house I can go to an hotel -for a few weeks. How long are you going to be -gone—when are you going?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. I just know I’ve got to get away -for a while. I hate New York. I’m going as soon -as I can get packed, but there’s no reason for closing -the house. You’re here and Billie will be here -at least until she gets an engagement, and I’ll leave -George and Amy. I just thought if you wanted to -come you might.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course I’d love to go; I’ve never been to -Florida, but I can’t leave school just now. Can I -help?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dive in; the sooner the trunks are packed the -sooner I go.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you bought a ticket and made reservations?” -asked Ruth practically.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Time enough for that later. I can’t go today -anyway you know. I just thought of it an hour -ago.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>“If Miss Mayfield will pardon a suggestion from -me,” said George, “I would suggest that Palm -Beach will be very dull just now—It is too early -for the season to have begun and the hotels will be -quite deserted.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s just why I’m going—I’m fed up with -people,” said Gloria, and George subsided into sullen -silence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>One of the few things about Gloria that Ruth did -not quite like was her treatment of her servants. -She was quite as apt to ask the advice of George or -Amy as one of her friends, and in consequence they -often offered it unsolicited. With Amy this course -was all right. She would storm and scold in true -Southern negro fashion and take the resulting scolding -in good part, but if Gloria reprimanded George -he would retire sullenly to the lower regions of the -house and pack his luggage and then appear with -great dignity to offer his resignation. Whereupon -Gloria would beg him to stay and he would consent -to do so with apparent reluctance. Once Ruth had -seen her put her hand on his arm with a familiar -gesture while she pleaded with him to stay. The -sight sent a cold shudder over her. To Ruth there -was something sinister and repulsive about George, -and she was almost sure that her feeling of distrust -and dislike was fully returned.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He went out now in answer to the ringing door -bell, and returned with Terry Riordan, who stood -looking in with wide, questioning eyes. Ruth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>watched his face intently, keen to see whether he -would show regret at Gloria’s going away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Glad I got here in time to say good-bye,” he -said, smiling. “Who’s going away?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought George told you over the ’phone that -I couldn’t see any one today,” said Gloria. “I’m -packing to go to Palm Beach, and now that -you’ve satisfied your curiosity, perhaps you’ll run -along.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not at all; I’m going to stay to argue with -you. In the first place why go away and in the -second why go to Palm Beach when there are so -many interesting places to go?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m going away because I’m tired of playwrights -and actors and actresses, and Fifth Avenue -and Broadway, and if you have any better place -than Palm Beach to suggest, I will be very glad to -go there—only don’t say the North Pole, for I’ve -been packing summer clothing and don’t want to do -it all over again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t you say anything to her?” he asked, smiling -at Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shook her head, answering him with her eyes -and again she had the feeling of a secret understanding -between herself and Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Haven’t you any control over this house, -George?” he asked perching on top of one of the -trunks and lighting a cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c007'>George made no answer, but Amy grinned her -delight. With her mistress gone George would assume -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>more upper servant airs than ever and she -would have no court of justice to which she could -refer in time of domestic strife.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please get off that trunk, Terry; there are chairs -to sit on,” said Gloria, drawing the red flower of -her lip under her white teeth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How can I sit on a chair when there are hats -and boots on every one?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here, I’ll clear one for you,” said Gloria, and -sent a hat sailing across the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth would never dare throw a hat across the -room, no matter how much she felt like it. She -watched Gloria in a perfect passion of admiration -that half drowned the sharp pain in her heart because -she knew that Terry also saw Gloria’s beauty -and felt the charm of her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you really must go away, and I can understand -that too, for I’d like to get away myself, -why not take a sea voyage—that’s the real thing -in rest cures. Go to San Francisco by rail and then -take one of those boats that run to Hawaii and -Samoa and on to Sydney if you don’t want to stop -at Samoa. Let me see, five days to San Francisco, -eighteen days to Sydney, not counting a long stopover -in Hawaii and Samoa, and by the time you return -I’ll have a comedy written for you,—a comedy -in which the entire plot rests on the heroine’s being -not less than six feet tall—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t tease me, Terry—it isn’t fair—you’ve -been writing that comedy for three years now—if -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>you only would write it I wouldn’t care even if I -had to play opposite a giant from a circus—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was near tears, so near that Ruth could hardly -restrain an impulse to go to her and throw her arms -about her, when Terry evidently with the same impulse -went to her and did throw one arm about her -shoulders. Ruth saw now that they were exactly -the same height.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear girl, I’m not teasing. The comedy is -half finished now, only I wanted to keep it for a -surprise, and you won’t play opposite a circus giant. -If necessary I’ll play opposite you myself and wear -French heels.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t believe him, Ruth,” said Gloria, smiling -now. “He’s always promising to write a comedy -for me, but he doesn’t mean it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wait and see,” said Terry. “You do believe -me, don’t you Ruth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Ruth, gazing hopelessly on the splendid -beauty of her aunt, and seeing Terry’s arm across -her shoulder could not answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll give you four weeks more to make good, -Terry,” said Gloria. “Clear all the junk away, -George; I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going -away for a while.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry Riordan forebore to laugh, but his eyes -again sought Ruth’s in secret understanding.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I’ll go up and work a while before dinner,” -she said. It was better to leave them alone, -and she must work! she must work! she must work!</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Pursuant to her conversation with Dorothy -Winslow in which she had announced her intention -of painting landscapes with figures, Ruth had begun -a new canvas—a corner of the park with two children -playing under the trees. She had been trying -to get an effect of sunlight falling through green -leaves. It was badly done. She could see that now. -Besides, she didn’t want to paint children. She -painted them out with great sweeps of her brush. -They were stiff, horrid, complacent little creatures. -Instead she would have only one figure, a shabby, -old woman crouching on a park bench, and she -would take out the sunlight too. A thin mist of -rain would be falling and the sky would be murky -with a faint, coppery glow where the sun sought to -penetrate through the clouds, but the chief interest -of the picture would centre about the figure of the -old woman, holding her tattered cloak about her -under the uncertain shelter of the trees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>If only she had the colour sense of Nels Zord—she -would get it in time. It was only a question -of more work and more work. Would Terry -Riordan really play opposite Gloria in the new -comedy? The play was the task that Gloria had set -him and when it was produced Terry could claim -his reward. She would go to the wedding and no -one would ever guess that her heart was broken. -Afterward she would live in retirement and paint; -or perhaps she would travel and one day be thirty-five -years old and beautiful with a strange, sad -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>beauty and men would love her, but she would refuse -them all ever so gently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She worked steadily for almost an hour and then -she began to wonder whether Amy would have a -very good dinner and how many would be there. -Perhaps Terry Riordan would stay. And she decided -to put on a new dinner frock that she had -bought and wondered if she could dress her hair as -Gloria did, and tried it, but found it unsuccessful -and reverted to her own simple coiffure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When she went down she found that Terry had -indeed stayed for dinner and Gloria had changed to -a gorgeous gown and Billie Irwin, who had come -in late from the hair-dresser’s, had acquired a -splendid aureole of golden hair in place of the -streaked blond of yesterday, and Philip Noel was -trying out some new music and they had all promised -to stay to dinner and afterward there was a -play that they simply must see, at least the second -act. There was really nothing worth listening to -after the second act, and all conversation about -going away or about the new comedy seemed to be -forgotten.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll have a surprise on Sunday morning,” -Terry told her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What kind of a surprise?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t tell now; it’s a secret. Gloria knows, -though.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s a very nice surprise,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth glanced quickly from one to the other. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>Perhaps they were going to be married and would -announce the fact on Sunday.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t I guess?” she asked, trying to imitate -their gay mood.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No! you’d never guess,” said Gloria, “but it’s -really a wonderful surprise. Only you mustn’t -ask questions—you’ll find out at breakfast Sunday -morning and not a moment sooner.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Sunday breakfast was a ceremony at the -house on Gramercy Square. Then Gloria -broke away from her rule of breakfast in -bed, and clad in the most alluring of French -negligées, she presided at the coffee urn in the big -dining-room, while around her were ranged friends -expected and unexpected in harmonious Sunday -comfort. There was a delightful untidiness about -the entire room that was particularly cheering—ash -trays with half-smoked cigarettes on the white cloth -and Sunday newspapers scattered at random by -casual hands. Conversation for the first half hour -was confined to nods and sleepy smiles, but when -the second cup of coffee had been poured people -really began to talk. There was always, when the -weather permitted, a fire in the grate, and after -breakfast there was an hour of intimate chat in -which all the stage gossip of the season was told -and analysed, and careers were made and unmade.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Breakfast was at eleven o’clock, but Ruth had -been up for hours, working away in her studio at -the top of the house. At eleven she came down, -for George was intolerant of late comers. Gloria, -Billie Irwin, Terry Riordan, and John Courtney -were already there. They raised their heads from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>their newspapers and greeted her with smiles, for -Gloria considered it the worst taste possible for -any one to speak before she had had her first cup -of coffee, and particularly she disliked “Good morning” -spoken in a cheery tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is no such thing as a good morning,” she -always averred. “Morning is never good, except -for sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the moment that Ruth entered George placed -the coffee urn on the table and Gloria proceeded to -pour the cups, looking very lovely with the dusk of -sleep still in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth thought it very odd to be at a table with -four other people none of whom spoke a word. No -one else seemed to mind, they all devoted themselves -to their breakfast with the same earnestness -that a few moments before had been bestowed on -the Sunday newspapers.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, Terry, you can give Ruth her surprise,” -said Gloria presently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth had almost forgotten but now she remembered, -seeing them all look at her beamingly, as if -she had done something very nice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry reached down to the floor and picked up a -section of newspaper. It was the theatrical section, -Ruth saw, even before he handed it to her, and -then, that it contained a story about “Three Merry -Men,” with a photograph of the leading woman and -grouped around it the sketches that Ruth had made -caricaturing the players. The sketches had not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>been signed but under them was a printed caption, -“Sketched by Ruth Mayfield.” She stared at the -page for some moments, realizing that they were -all looking at her and expecting some sort of an outburst. -Finally when she sat silent, Billie Irwin, less -sensitive than the others, spoke:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Isn’t it wonderful, Ruth—we’re all so proud -and glad for you—to think of seeing your work reproduced, -and you’ve only been in New York a few -weeks.” She put her plump hand on Ruth’s shoulder -with an impulsive gesture.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth restrained an impulse to throw it off. She -still kept her head bent, instinctively hiding her eyes -until she should gain control of their expression. -She realized that every one there thought that -Terry had done a fine thing in getting the sketches -printed, that Terry himself thought he had done a -nice thing. It would be impossible to explain to -these people that she considered such work beneath -her—that she, the future great painter, did not -want to dabble in cartooning. But to them she was -only an obscure art student. She must say something -soon—her silence was past the limit of surprise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How good of you, Mr. Riordan,” she said at -last. “I had no idea that you were going to do this -when you took my sketches. It’s quite wonderful -to see them—to see them in a newspaper like -this—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My word,” laughed Terry, “I believe that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>Ruth doesn’t really like it at all, though I meant -well, I did indeed, child, and though you don’t know -it, cartooning is quite as much art as painting, and -quite as difficult if one had not the particular genius -for it. I gave the sketches to the <cite>Sun</cite> critic and he -was quite enthusiastic. I dare say you might get -a chance to do it right along if you wanted to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ruth is an ungrateful little wretch if she isn’t -both pleased and proud,” said Gloria, smiling fondly -at Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am pleased and grateful,” protested Ruth, -“but I don’t want to be a cartoonist, not until I’m -quite sure that I can never be a painter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Better far be a clever cartoonist than a bad -painter,” said John Courtney, “though I understand -just how you feel. As a young man, when I first -entered the profession I wanted to be a great -comedian—I still think I could have been one, for -I have a keen sense of humour, but it was not to be, -I was, you will pardon me for speaking of it, I was -too handsome—my appearance forced me to be a -romantic hero—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He passed one white hand over his grey, curled -hair, as he spoke, with a gesture as one who should -say, “you can see that I am still handsome and can -judge for yourselves of my youth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your fatal beauty was your ruin,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He smiled good-naturedly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not my ruin, I have done very well, but I -did want to be a great comedian, and I’ve never seen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>a comedian who did not secretly long for tragic -rôles, but ‘there is a destiny that shapes our -ends—’ What is that quotation?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘Rough-hew them as we will,’” Ruth finished -for him. “I quoted that myself to a girl last week -and she answered me by saying that she intended -to do a lot of rough-hewing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Still, even if you do want to paint I think you -ought to follow this newspaper thing up,” said -Billie Irwin who was a bit vague as to the trend -of the conversation. “Your name is in quite large -type and nothing counts like keeping one’s name before -the public. If only I had not been so retiring -when I first started!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just here George came in with a letter which he -laid beside Ruth’s plate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It just came by hand,” he explained.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth lost no time in opening the large, square -envelope, addressed in a precise, old-fashioned, -masculine hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Inside was a square engraved card of admission -to the private view of the water colour show at the -Academy on Monday evening. With it was another -card with the name Professor Percival Pendragon -engraved on it, and the words “compliments of” -written above.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, isn’t this splendid!” she exclaimed, passing -the contents of the envelope to Gloria. “You know -all of the students are crazy to go to the private -view tomorrow night, but it’s awfully exclusive and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>only the members of the Academy and the exhibitors -have cards, but each one is permitted one -guest. Nels Zord, one of the student exhibitors is -taking Dorothy Winslow and he’s asked this man, -a friend and patron of his, to send me his guest -card. Hasn’t he got a queer name? You know -I’ve never met him at all. He must be really fond -of Nels—quite an old chap I suppose and perhaps -I’ll meet him at—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then Ruth was stopped by the expression on -Gloria’s face. She was holding the card away from -her as if it were something dangerous and her face -had grown quite pale, her big, blue eyes staring out -with an expression that Ruth could not analyse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is it—are you ill?” In her fright Ruth -has risen from her place at the table and moved to -Gloria’s side.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria waved her away with a movement of her -arm, and seeming to recover a part of her composure -began to smile.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s nothing at all, Ruth,” she said. “I was -just startled for a moment—you see Professor Percival -Pendragon is—was, my husband.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sank back into her chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I suppose—perhaps you’d prefer—I can -send the card back to him and tell that I am unable -to use it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not at all,” said Gloria, twisting her round, red -mouth in the whimsical way she had. “If you -haven’t met him he doesn’t know that you are a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>relative of mine and you needn’t tell. Besides he’s -an awfully good sort really. I always did like -Percy. I didn’t know he was in America. The last -I knew he was in Oxford, associated with the observatory -there. He’ll probably talk to you about -the great star map.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The great star map?” questioned Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, I don’t know what the thing really is,” said -Gloria. “Something that the astronomers are -working on now. It takes about twenty years to -make one, but it’s no particular use to them after -it’s finished. They just make it with great work—but -that’s merely a rehearsal. Their children make -another one, which I suppose is the dress rehearsal; -and their grandchildren make a third, which is I -suppose the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">première</span></i>. Then they compare their -map with the one made by their parents and grandparents -and by some process discover that the -planets have moved. They have a wild hope that -they may discover where the planets have moved -and why, but if that doesn’t materialize the great-grandchildren’s -children make a new star map, devoting -their entire lives to it, and some time, two -thousand years from now, perhaps, some grey-whiskered -old man some place will know something -exact about the stars, or will not know something -exact about the stars, as the case may be.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Every one except Ruth laughed at this description. -She felt that these people with all their years -must be in some ways younger than herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>“They are working for posterity,” she said reprovingly. -“All great art and science is like that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, but you mustn’t expect player folk to appreciate -anything but the transitory in art,” said -John Courtney. “It is the tragedy of the profession -that the art of every one of us dies with us. The -tones of Gloria’s marvellous speaking voice will not -be heard by our descendants. Booth is nothing but -a memory in spite of his statue out there in the park. -It is the life of a butterfly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Courtney had used his deepest emotional voice -in speaking, and despite custom and knowledge of -his many harmless affectations, Billie Irwin shuddered -and looked pained.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Butterflies are very beautiful at least,” said -Terry, reflecting in his face the concern that Ruth -also felt as she noted that Gloria was still looking -quite pale, with a strained expression in her eyes as -if she were seeing things far removed from the -breakfast room. She determined to again ask her -aunt if it would not be better to give up the private -view, as soon as she had an opportunity to speak -with her alone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The opportunity did not come until late that afternoon, -and then Gloria shrugged her shoulders in -a careless manner and laughed at Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly not, foolish child. He doesn’t know -that you live with me. I doubt if he even knows -that I am alive. I’ve been off the stage so long and -besides he never goes to the theatre. This art -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>thing must be a new fad with him. Still he must -have noticed the name. Even Percy can scarcely -have forgotten my last name. Only don’t tell him -about me. Don’t let him know that you are a relative, -and don’t let him come to the house.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The others are coming—Dorothy and Nels. -I’m going to lend Dorothy a gown.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do they know anything about me?” asked -Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; you see I’ve been afraid to tell them just -how happily I am situated. They are all so poor -and I’ve been afraid that they’d not take me seriously -if I told them that I have never been hungry -or afraid of a landlord or any of the interesting -things that seem to be common in their lives. They -rather look down on the students that have an allowance -from home, so I’ve never told them anything -about myself. Probably I shan’t meet Mr. -Pendragon at all. If he had wanted to meet me -he would have come with Nels instead of sending -the admission card, don’t you think so?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then curiosity overcoming delicacy, Ruth asked -her the question that had been in her mind all day.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Which one is Professor Pendragon?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Which one?” Gloria’s eyebrows went up in -surprise. “Oh yes, I know what you mean, which -one on my list. Percy was number one. I was very -young when I married Percy and very ambitious. -It was—let me see—eleven years ago and we were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>married just one year. I haven’t seen him for nine -years or heard of him for at least five, and if you -love me, Ruth, you won’t let him know who you -are or you won’t mention me. You see I’ve been -married twice since then and I don’t want to meet -Percy. It would be painful to both of us. He can’t -have any interest in me, and certainly l have none -in him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her voice grew hard as she spoke the last words -and her mouth set in a line that made her lips look -almost thin, but her eyes were not hard. Some deep -emotion looked out of them, but whether it was pain -or hate, Ruth could not decide.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She could understand that Gloria would be embarrassed -at seeing her first husband, especially in -view of the fact that he had had two successors, -and that Gloria was contemplating a fourth marriage. -As Ruth’s own admiration for Terry Riordan -increased she found it increasingly difficult to believe -that Gloria would reject him, so the fourth -marriage seemed quite possible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria was going to dine out that night and they -were together in her room where she was dressing. -Her auburn hair fell over her shoulders and Ruth -decided that now she looked like the pictures of -Guinevere in “The Idylls of the King.” Ruth knew -that Gloria had been disturbed by the knowledge -that her former husband was in New York and that -she might meet him at any time, but she did not -seem to be averse to talking about it, and Ruth was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>one of those persons, who, seemingly shy and reserved, -actually so about her own affairs, could yet -ask with impunity, questions that from any other -person would have seemed prying and almost impertinent. -This was really because Ruth never -asked out of idle curiosity, but because she had a real -interest. Her aunt was to her a fascinating book, -the pages of which she must turn and turn until she -had read the entire story.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Had any of the people this morning ever met -Professor Pendragon?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; that is no one but George—I acquired -George in London, you know, just about the same -time that I married Percy. Husbands come and husbands -go, but a good servant is not so easily replaced, -so I’ve managed to keep George, though he -hates New York.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then,” continued Ruth, more to herself than to -Gloria, “it was not Professor Pendragon who gave -you this house.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, as I told you, I don’t think he even knows -that I’m in New York. I didn’t know he was here. -I was fond of Percy and naturally I don’t let him -give me anything, because that would have given him -pleasure and I wanted to hurt him—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the mirror she caught the shocked expression -in Ruth’s eyes, and turned swiftly to face her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course you think all this is terrible, but after -a few years you’ll understand, not me, but something -of life itself and of how helpless we all are. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>I know that you have a very clearly defined plan of -life—certain things that you will do—certain things -that ‘could never happen to me.’ I know because -we’re all like that. And then one day, utterly without -your own volition, knowing that you’re doing -the wrong thing, you’ll do and say things that simply -aren’t written in your lines. Do you suppose that at -your age I planned to love a human observatory that -observed everything except me, or that I expected -to divorce him and marry a tired business man who -expected to use me as a perpetual advertisement for -toilet preparations, or that I expected when I -divorced him that I’d do it all over again with a man -more lifeless than his family portraits? You don’t -know what you’re going to do when you start out. -I know just that much now—that I don’t know. I -may commit matrimony again tomorrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But didn’t you love any of these men?” gasped -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course—I loved Percy, and Percy loved the -stars—perhaps that’s why he married me. I was -a star of a kind at the time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then why—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, I don’t know; I think the final break came -because of Eros— Isn’t that the bell? Do run and -tell Terry that I’ll be with him in a minute. I -wonder why he will persist in always being on -time?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was Terry. He was trying to engage the dignified -George in conversation.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>“Hello—you look as if you’d been reading fairy -tales,” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, just talking to Gloria,” said Ruth. “She’ll -be down in a few minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It must have been an exciting conversation from -the size of your young eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We were talking,” said Ruth, “we were talking -about—about Eros.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The God of Love?” asked Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you will pardon me,” said George, “Eros is -also the name of a small planet discovered in our -solar system in the year 1898.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Completing which amazing piece of information, -George silently departed, leaving the two staring -after him.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth had intended asking permission to have -Dorothy and Nels to dinner on the night of -the private view, but if she did that they -would learn that her aunt was Gloria Mayfield and -there was every chance that Nels would refer to that -fact in talking to Professor Pendragon, for Ruth -had already discovered that the art students were -ardent celebrity seekers and Gloria Mayfield, though -she had not appeared on any stage for three seasons, -was still something of a celebrity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She compromised by eating an early dinner with -Dorothy at the little restaurant on Eighth Avenue, -at least Dorothy called it dinner, though it was -eaten at tea time and both girls were too excited to -care what they ate. Then they went home to dress. -It was the first time that Ruth had taken any one -of the students to her house and she wondered just -how she would avoid telling Dorothy about her -aunt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>George opened the door for them and they went -on up to Ruth’s room without seeing any one else, -though Ruth could hear voices from the drawing-room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This doesn’t look like a rooming house,” said -Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“It isn’t. I live here with friends. What do -you think of my work room?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Great!—warm, too. There isn’t any heat -where I live and I have to use a little oil stove, but -it’s expensive. You know I don’t think much of -that—one might as well be frank—” She was looking -at the canvas Ruth had on her easel. “Nels -and I were talking about it yesterday. We think -you ought to follow up the cartoon thing. You -know they make a lot of money, cartoonists. You -could take it up seriously, you know—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I don’t want to take it up seriously. I don’t -want to be a cartoonist. I want to be a landscape -painter, and if you will allow me to be frank, too, -I don’t think that you are in a position to judge -whether I have talent or not.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth had been very much surprised to find that -her friends at school seemed to think that she had -achieved something by having her sketches in a Sunday -newspaper. What she had thought would make -her lose caste among them had in reality given her -distinction, but it had had another effect also. If -she was a caricaturist she could also be a painter, -they reasoned, and less frankly than Dorothy, Nels -Zord had expressed the opinion that she would never -be a great painter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Better be a successful cartoonist than an unsuccessful -painter,” he had said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had made no protest until now and Dorothy -looked at her in amazement.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>“Don’t be angry. I didn’t mean anything, only -it’s always a pity when any one has a real talent and -then insists on some other method of expression. Of -course you may be a great painter. As you say, I’m -not a critic and besides you haven’t been studying -long. Only the painting is all a gamble and the -sketches are a success right now if you care to go on -with them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So are your fashions if you care to go on with -them,” said Ruth, still hurt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Speaking of fashions, let me see the frock I’m -to wear,” said Dorothy, changing the subject with -more abruptness than skill.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They’re in my other room,” said Ruth. “You -can have anything you want except what I’m going -to wear myself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then followed two hours of dressing and redressing. -There were only two gowns to choose from, -but Dorothy had to try both of them many times, -rearranging her bobbed hair each time, and finally -deciding on the blue one because “it makes my eyes -so lovely and Nels is crazy about that blue.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was so interested in her own appearance that -she forgot to ask questions about the friends with -whom Ruth lived and long before Nels called for -them, Ruth knew that Gloria would have gone out -for she was dining with the Peyton-Russells. Mrs. -Peyton-Russell had been a chorus girl who after she -married John Peyton-Russell had the good taste to -remember that Gloria Mayfield had befriended her, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>the result being that Gloria was often invited to -dinner parties at their place in town and had a -standing invitation to whatever country place happened -to be housing the Peyton-Russells, all invitations -that Gloria often accepted, though she complained -that Angela Peyton-Russell took her new -position far more seriously than she had ever taken -her profession. She was almost painfully respectable -and correct. She dressed more plainly than a grand -duchess, and having no children, was making strenuous -efforts to break into public work. One of the -most amusing of her activities, at least to Gloria, -was in connection with a drama uplift movement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Nels Zord came promptly at half-past eight, -dressed as he had threatened, “like a musical comedy -art student.” His wide trousers, short velvet -jacket and flowing tie created in the mind of Ruth -much the same wonder that Dorothy’s unaccustomed -elegance created in the mind of Nels. Only Dorothy -herself was unimpressed by their combined magnificence. -To her everything was but a stepping -stone on the upward path of her career.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t I look spiffy, Nels? And aren’t you going -to make sure that I meet Professor Pendragon, and -be sure and tell him that I do portraits and then I’ll -do the rest. If one can’t make use of one’s friends, -of whom can one make use?” The last addressed -to Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wouldn’t miss the opportunity of letting him -meet you for anything,” agreed Nels. “Only do -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>try and be a little bit careful, Dot, you are strenuous, -you know. Anyway you’d have met him without -asking. He seemed curious to meet Ruth. Asked -how she looked and if she was tall and beautiful, -and seemed awfully disappointed when I told him -that she was only short and pretty. Are you all -ready? There’s the cab waiting.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>From somewhere George appeared to open the -door for them, and as Ruth paused to wrap her cloak -more closely about her bare shoulders, his soft, lisping -voice whispered in her ear:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Take care what you say to Pendragon, Miss.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She nodded and followed Nels and Dorothy into -the cold, outer air. In the cab Nels and Dorothy -chatted of the exhibitors—great artists whom they -knew by sight, while Ruth to whom they were only -names, listened in breathless admiration.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When they had arrived and had left off their -wraps, Dorothy protested:</p> - -<p class='c008'>“Do we have to go down the line, or can we duck -to the left?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No nonsense like that; remember you’re with -an exhibitor, and besides Professor Pendragon may -be waiting for us. We can pay for the privilege of -looking at the pictures by breaking through the line -of receiving dowagers. It’s only fair.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, very well—but it’s really awful, Ruth. Lots -of the students just duck the line and slip in at the -left, but I suppose we’re too dignified tonight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>Professor Pendragon was not waiting for them, -but the long line of dowagers was. If Dorothy had -not been with her, Ruth would merely have looked -at them as a long line of middle aged and elderly -women in evening dress, but Dorothy saw them with -far different eyes. She knew the names of some of -them, and whispered them to Ruth while they waited -to follow some people who had arrived before them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just look at the third one from the end—the -one with the Valeska Suratt make-up on the Miss -Hazy frame—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then Ruth looked puzzled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know Miss Hazy in ‘Mrs. Wiggs of the -Cabbage Patch’—I say, wouldn’t you think she’d -choke with all those beads—the one with the neck -like a turtle. The ones with the antique -jewelry are from Philadelphia—you can tell them -with their evening cloaks on, too. They always have -evening cloaks made out of some grand, old piece -of tapestry taken from the top of the piano—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Nels led them forward and in a very few -seconds they had passed the line of patronesses, thin -and stout, there seemed to be no intermediates, and -were free to look at the pictures and talk to their -friends.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Not for the world would Nels have dashed immediately -to his own picture, though he knew to a -fraction of an inch just where it was hung. But -gradually they went to it, hung on the eye line and -in the honour room, and there the three stood, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>girls telling Nels how proud they were, and Nels, -gratified at their praise, yet half fearing that some -one would overhear, with the blood coming and -going in his blond face until he looked like a girl -despite his heavy shoulders and the big hands that -looked more fitted for handling bricks than for painting -delicate seascapes in water colour.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Other people seeing their interest in the picture -came and looked at it also. The “outsiders,” as -Dorothy called them, standing up as close as their -lorgnettes would permit, the artists, standing far -off and closing one eye in absurd postures, while -murmurs of “atmosphere,” “divine colour,” and -other phrases and words entered the pink ears of -Nels like incense in the nostrils of a god.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So much engrossed was he in his little ceremony -of success that he did not see Professor Pendragon -approaching, though Dorothy and Ruth, without -knowing his identity, were both conscious that the -very tall, distinguished looking man was watching -them, Ruth even guessed who he was before he laid -his hand on Nels’ shoulder and spoke. It was not -alone that he was tall—very tall even with the slight -stoop with which he carried his shoulders; it was his -face that first attracted Ruth’s attention, a keen, -dark face with a high bridged nose and eyes from -which a flame of perpetual youth seemed to flash. -Yet it was a lined face, too, full of unexpected -laugh wrinkles and creases and there were streaks -of grey in the hair.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>“Well, Nels, you can’t complain of how the picture -was hung this time.” His voice was like his -face, poetic and with a hidden laugh in it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Nels turned, flushing redder than before.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Professor Pendragon, we’ve been looking for -you. I knew you’d turn up here sooner or later and -just waited. Here is Dot, I mean Miss Winslow, -and Miss Mayfield.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you so much for letting me use your -guest card. It was very kind of you, Professor -Pendragon, and I’m having such a good time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not at all! I was delighted to be able to make -such good use of it. Have you seen Alice Schille’s -children or Mary Cassatt’s charming pastel? The -women artists are rather outshining the men this -year. If Nels can break away from his own work -we’ll go and see them. Then there’s John Sloan and -Steinlen, and a Breckenridge thing with wonderful -colour.” He led them off, smiling down with a funny -little stooping movement of his head that in a smaller -man might have been described as birdlike. He -seemed to know every one and was continually being -stopped by men and women who wanted his opinion -about this or that piece of work. Ruth tried hard -to look at the pictures, but her mind was continually -wandering to the people and especially to Professor -Pendragon. Dorothy noticed this.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t try to look at things tonight. None of -us ever do. The people are too funny. The dragon -seems to be on intimate terms with all of them,” she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>whispered. “Nels tells me that he’s a great swell -with ever so much money. I wish you could mention -that I paint portraits. If I could get him to sit it -would be a start. You mention portraits and I’ll -do the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Much embarrassed and in great fear that -Dorothy’s whispers would be overheard, Ruth tried -to make an opportunity for mentioning that Dorothy -painted portraits. Professor Pendragon himself -made it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What sort of work are you doing, Miss Mayfield?” -he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing now, I’m just a student, but I hope to -do landscapes. Dorothy is to be a great portrait -painter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know I’d love to paint you, Professor -Pendragon. You have such an interesting face—you -have really,” she ended as Nels laughed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Some day when I have lots of time—and thank -you for saying that my face is interesting! Or perhaps -I can do even better and get some beautiful -woman to sit for you. Wouldn’t you like that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I’d rather have you,” said Dorothy, raising -her large blue eyes with ingenuous confidence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s a very interesting picture in the -‘morgue,’ by a new artist of course, that I’d like to -have you see, Nels.” He broke off, for Nels had -been drawn away by some fellow students and -Dorothy had followed him, leaving him alone with -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>“Never mind; perhaps you’ll be interested, Miss -Mayfield.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth thought she detected the faintest trace of -hesitancy in his voice whenever he pronounced her -name.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is New York your home?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is now. I came from Indiana, but my mother -died a few months ago and I am living with friends -here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How sad; you have no relatives then?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>His eyes were searching her face and she felt -that he must see that she was lying.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you paint?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh no, this art thing is a new fad with me—that -is of course I’ve always been interested in beautiful -things, but it’s only recently that I’ve been actively -interested. I’m afraid I’m a dilettante—rather an -awkward confession for a man of forty-one to make, -but it’s true. I thought I had a career as an astronomer, -but I gave that up some years ago, and -since then I’ve tried a bit of everything. One must -play some sort of game, you know. It must be wonderful -to be like that little girl with Nels. Her -game will be earning a living for some time to -come—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Another pause gave Ruth a clue to his thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I’m not exactly in that position—of course -I want to earn money, too, but only because that is -the world’s stamp of success,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>He had evidently forgotten the picture they went -to see, for he asked her if she was hungry, and when -she said “No,—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought young things were always hungry, -especially art students, but if you’re not hungry let’s -sit here and talk. Nels and Miss Winslow will be -sure to find us soon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Astronomy must be an awfully interesting -study,” she said, wondering how any man once having -married Gloria could ever have let her go, and -why Gloria once having loved a man like this, could -ever have sent him away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, interesting, but like art it is very long. -I sometimes think I would have done better to take -up astrology.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re joking,” said Ruth. “Surely you don’t -believe in that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why not? There’s a grain of truth at the bottom -of all old beliefs, and it is as easy to believe -that one’s destiny is controlled by the stars as to -believe in a Divine Providence, sometimes much -easier. The stars are cold, passionless things, inexorable -and fixed, each moving in its appointed -round—passing and repassing other stars, meeting -and parting—alone as human lives are alone. There -are satellites powerless to leave the planet around -which they circle and here and there twin stars that -seem one light from this distance, but doubtless are -really millions of miles separated in space—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He caught the intent look on her face and smiled:</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>“No, on the whole I think astrology would not -have been any more satisfactory than astronomy, for -even there, there is nothing clear cut, ‘The stars -incline but do not compel.’ Just one thing is really -sure, one must play with something.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here comes Nels,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just in time to keep me from persuading you -that I am quite insane,” said Professor Pendragon. -“I was going to show you a wonderful picture in -the morgue, but it’s too late, Nels, for you’ll never -be able to find it alone, and I am going to buy it. -Some day, if you’ll come and have tea with me—all -of you—you can advise me about the proper place -to hang it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll do that, but I’ll bet I can find it by myself—go -ahead and buy it and when we come to your -house I’ll be able to describe the picture and tell you -who painted it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course, if some one tells you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not that; if there’s anything in the morgue -worth your attention, I’ll be sure to notice it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So will I,” said Dorothy. “Come on, Ruth, -let’s look.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth had been wondering whether Pendragon -would go out with them and how she could avoid -his going to the house on Gramercy Square, but evidently -he was as informal as a student, for he only -nodded a careless farewell and strolled off while -they went in search of the picture.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth entered the house with her own key, -which she had taken, not wanting to keep -George waiting up to open the door for her. -The house was quite silent and dark, save for one -dim light burning in the hall, and this light seemed -to illumine a thick blue haze or smoke that floated -out enveloping her as she paused on the threshold. -At the same moment she was conscious of an almost -overpowering odour of incense, something that -Gloria never used, she knew. She stood a moment -peering through the blue haze until she made out a -figure crouching on the stairs, not George as she -at first supposed, but Amy, who seldom showed herself -in the front of the house. She was huddled up, -with clasped arms, weaving to and fro and moaning -inarticulate prayers, while her eyes rolled wildly -about in her head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Amy, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Amy paused in her weaving and moaning to shake -her head negatively.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then what’s wrong? Is Miss Mayfield ill?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Again the negative shake.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’se waitin’ up for yo’, Mis’ Ruth. I want you -to let me sleep upstairs with you all tonight. There’s -a couch in the room what you all paint. I kin use -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>that,—please, Mis’ Ruth, I’se a dead woman ef you -says no.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What nonsense!” said Ruth, trying to speak -sharply and at the same time in a low tone. Amy, -for all her agitation, kept her voice almost a whisper -and kept turning her head over her shoulder as if -she feared that some one was coming up behind her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why do you want to sleep in my studio? Aren’t -you comfortable downstairs? If you’re ill I’ll send -for a doctor. You’ll have to give me some reason.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She saw that the negro woman’s distress was very -real, however foolish, and laid her hand on her -trembling shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Doan ask me no questions now—jes let me -come,” she said rising as if she would accompany -Ruth upstairs against her will, and still looking over -her shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t let you come unless you tell me why,” -said Ruth, her voice growing louder in spite of her -efforts to keep it low.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The negress laid a warning finger on her lips and -shot a look of such terror over her shoulder that -Ruth felt a sympathetic thrill of horror down her -own spine and peered into the blackness beyond the -stairway, half expecting to see some apparition -there. Then struggling as much to control her own -nerves as those of the servant, she put both hands -on Amy’s shoulders and forced her down on the -stairway again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If there’s any real reason why you should sleep -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>upstairs you can, but you must tell me first what -you’re afraid of.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The negress leaned toward her, whispering:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s him—that devil-man, George; he a voodoo -and he’s practisin’ black magic down there. I cain’t -sleep in the same paht of the house. I’m goin’ to -give notice in the mawnin’—please, Mis’ Ruth, take -me up with yo’—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment Ruth did not know what to say. -She knew that all negroes are superstitious, but looking -into the rolling eyes of Amy, there in the midnight -silence of the house, she was not able to -laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m surprised at you, Amy. I thought you were -more sensible. What’s George doing? He hasn’t -tried to hurt you, has he?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not me, he ain’t goin’ hu’t me—I don’t -expec’ you-all to understand. I don’t care whether -you understands or not, jus’ let me go up with yo’.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s George doing?” demanded Ruth again. -She would much rather have given consent at once -and ended the argument, but she could not control -a feeling both of curiosity and nervousness, and was -now protesting more against her own fears than -those of Amy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He tol’ me to go to baid. He orders me roun’ -li’e I was his nigger, and I went, but I could see him -through the keyhole—he’s in our settin’-room—it’s -between his room and mine. There’s another do’ -to my room and I wen’ right out through it. I didn’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>waste no time. But don’t you-all try to stop him. -He’s at black magic—oh-o-o-o-o-o—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her tense whisper trailed off into a suppressed -wail.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come with me,” said Ruth with sudden determination. -“I’ll see for myself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She started off down the hall, through the thick -blue haze which she could now tell was issuing from -the servants’ quarters, and Amy, protesting, but -evidently fearing to remain behind, walked behind -her. Ruth had never been in the servants’ quarters, -but she knew that they had rooms on the first floor, -which was partly below the street level. As she -passed she switched on the lights in the hall, illuminating -the short flight of steps that led below. The -door at the bottom was closed. At the top of the -steps, Amy caught her arm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t go, Mis’ Ruth—jes’ look through the -keyhole once. The do’s locked—don’t knock, jes’ -look once—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth shook off her restraining arm, but unconsciously -she softened her footsteps, creeping -almost noiselessly down the steps, while the black -woman waited above. In the silence she could hear -her frightened breathing. She had no intention of -following Amy’s advice, but intended to knock -boldly at the door and then to scold George for -frightening his fellow servant. She was determined -to do that even if George complained to his mistress, -but when her foot touched the last step, something -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>stronger than herself restrained her. She stood -a moment with her heart beating against her ribs, -and then, Ruth Mayfield, daughter of respectable -parents, bent down in the attitude of a curious and -untrustworthy servant and applied her eye to the -keyhole. She knelt thus for many minutes before she -finally rose and came back up the steps controlling -by a strong effort of her will the inclination to look -back over her shoulder as she had seen Amy do. At -the top Amy took her arm and together they walked -back through the hall.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the foot of the stairway she turned her white -face to Amy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can come with me if you’ll promise not to -say anything about this to Miss Mayfield, or to leave -for a while at least.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll promise anything, Mis’ Ruth, only take me -with you—an’ I won’ tell—I ain’ ready to die yit.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s all just nonsense, Amy, only I don’t want -to worry Gloria with it just now. You understand, -it’s just nonsense,” she repeated with lips that -trembled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She slept fitfully that night, waking in the morning -to the sound of Amy’s knocking at her door. She -called to the servant to come in, eager to talk with -her again before she had an opportunity to speak -to Gloria. She came in with the breakfast tray, -looking much as usual and apparently only too eager -to ignore the events of the night before. She set the -tray down and began rubbing her shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>“I got a misery,” she whined, “the wu’k in this -house is too ha’ad. They’se wu’uk enough here for -foah and only two to do it all. I’se neber wu’uked -in a big house like this befo’ less they was at least -foah kep’. I’se a cook, I is, not a maid, and what -not. Nex’ thing she’ll be askin’ me to do laundry.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, Amy, that isn’t fair. The house is big, -but Miss Mayfield only uses about half of it, and you -know she dines out almost more than in. Besides I -don’t want you to go away yet. If you’ll stay I’ll -ask Miss Mayfield to let you sleep up here all the -time. I can tell her that I’m nervous up here so -far away from every one and I’m sure she won’t -mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Amy’s face beamed with pleasure. “Is you-all -goin’ speak to her ’bout Go’ge?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not at once—I must have time to think about -that, and you must be quiet, too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’ you fret; I ain’ goin’ say anything ef -you-all doan’.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the door she turned again and looked at Ruth -as if she would like to ask a question, but Ruth -pretended not to see, and she went out without -speaking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>What Ruth had seen could not be ignored, yet -she could not go to Gloria and tell her that she had -deliberately peeked through keyholes, especially as -there was no way of proving that she had seen what -she had seen. George did not practise his rites every -night or Amy would have long since fled in terror. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>The only thing to do was to try and persuade Gloria -to discharge George for some other cause, or failing -that, to watch an opportunity to show Gloria what -she had seen. But perhaps Gloria already knew. -That did not seem exactly probable, but Gloria was -a strange woman and she said that George had been -in her service a long time—before her marriage to -Professor Pendragon. Perhaps Professor Pendragon—</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her thoughts lost themselves in trying to unravel -the tangled skein of Professor Pendragon, Gloria -and her marriages, George and his evident connection -with everything. She remembered George’s -warning whisper of the night before. Pendragon -might be able to explain everything to her, but she -could not ask him about George without also giving -him information of Gloria, a thing she had promised -not to do. The night before she had thought that -she might go direct to Gloria with her story about -George, but in the light of morning it sounded both -fantastic and unreal—as foolish as the fears of the -superstitious Amy had seemed before she, herself, -had investigated her wild story.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She would be late to class this morning, for she -had waked late and had dressed slowly with her -thoughts. On her way downstairs she passed -Gloria’s room. The door was open and Gloria was -sitting up in bed surrounded by innumerable papers.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you in a hurry?” she called.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not much,” which was true, for being -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>already late, Ruth was wondering whether it would -be worth while to try and attend her first class.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps you can help me out—can’t make anything -of all this,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Bills and my bank account—they don’t seem to -match somehow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She thrust a mass of papers toward Ruth, who sat -down on the side of the bed and began to look at -them. She picked up an assortment of bills, some -of them months old, some of them just arrived, some -of them mere statements of indebtedness, others with -pertinent phrases attached thereto, such as “An immediate -settlement will be appreciated.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth found a pencil and a pad and began to add -up the various amounts—they totalled several -thousand dollars. The idea of so much indebtedness -frightened Ruth. All her life she had been accustomed -to paying for things when she got them. -Since coming to New York she had discovered that -this was bourgeoise and inartistic, but training and -heredity were stronger than environment with her -and she still had a horror of debt. However, she -tried to conceal her surprise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, if you’ll let me see your check book and -your pass book, perhaps we can discover why they -don’t match,” she suggested.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here they are—go as far as you like. I never -could make anything of figures, except debts,” said -Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“But you haven’t made out more than half the -stubs on your checks—how can I tell what you’ve -spent unless you’ve kept some record of it?</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know—they balance the book now and -then at the bank, but I don’t know as it’s much use. -The truth is I really can’t afford to keep up this -house, even with only two servants.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why don’t you rent it and then get an apartment -and let George go and keep Amy? You could do -with one servant in a small apartment and I could -pay half the expense—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You could not! I thought I made that quite -clear. I can’t have any one living with me except as -a guest—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But why?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know why, except that it flatters my -vanity. Besides I can’t give up the house. I’ve got -to keep it whether I can afford it or not. Where -would Billie and any number of other people live -when they’re out of work if they didn’t have this -big house to come to? I got a note from Ben Stark -yesterday. His company broke up in Saint Louis -last week and he’s coming on here. I wrote that I -could put him up until he gets another engagement.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But Gloria, don’t you see that you can’t afford -to do that sort of thing? You’re too generous. No -one likes to talk about money, but one must talk -about money—it’s always coming in at the most -inopportune moments and unless we recognize it -politely at first it’s sure to show up at the worst time -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>possible later. You can’t afford to be always giving -and never taking anything from any one. If you’d -only let me live here on a sensible basis—it would -make me feel much more comfortable, and—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It would not,” said Gloria. “If I’d known you -were going to be sensible and practical and all that -sort of thing, I wouldn’t have asked you to look at -the silly, old bills. And I’m not generous at all. -I’m selfish. Generous people are the sort of people -who accept favors gracefully—people like Billie -Irwin and Ben Stark. Besides we aren’t sure yet. -I may have money enough to pay all this—only it’s -such a bore writing checks.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She smiled cheerfully at the thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll tell you what—I’ll take your book to the -bank and have it balanced and then we can find out -just what is wrong, and I’ll take care of it all for -you. I did all that sort of thing for Mother, you -know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re a dear, and just to show you that I can -help myself too I’m going to do something that I -suppose I should have done long ago.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>One of Gloria’s pet extravagances was having -telephone extensions in all the rooms that she herself -used. She reached out now to the telephone by -her bed and called a number.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is Mr. Davis there?” she asked. “Tell him -Miss Mayfield wants to talk to him.” Then after -a pause: “Good morning—you remember you -offered me a contract last week. Is it still open? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>Send it over and I’ll sign it— Tomorrow? Yes, I -can begin tomorrow. Nine o’clock—that’s awfully -early, but I can do it I suppose if other people do. -Yes, thanks. Woman’s prerogative and I have -changed mine. Tomorrow, then— Thank you— Good-bye.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There now, I’ve promised to go to work in the -movies and earn some money. Meantime if you can -straighten out my financial puzzle I shall be most -grateful.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you ever worked in motion pictures before?” -asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, but we all come to it sooner or later, that -is if they’ll take us. I haven’t any illusions about it. -They may not like me at all. Being an actress on the -speaking stage doesn’t always mean that one can -make a picture actress. Half the down and out -artists of the spoken drama who scorn the movies, -couldn’t get in if they tried. But if they give me a -contract for a few weeks I’ll have that at least, and -then if I’m no good I won’t have to worry about it -any more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Has Miss Irwin an engagement yet?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; but she’s doing her best, poor dear. It’s -awfully hard in the middle of the season. Angela -Peyton-Russell is going to give a Christmas party at -their house in the Berkshires. I’ll have her invite -you, too. If I work a few weeks in pictures I’ll be -ready for a rest. By the way, did you see Percy -last night?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>Suddenly Ruth had a suspicion that this was the -real reason why she had been called in. Gloria’s -tone was almost too casual and she had asked her -question without introduction, abruptly in the middle -of other things.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I met him and he’s awfully nice and good -looking, but I told him that I had no relatives and -that I am living with friends.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He asked then?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; I suppose the name made him curious.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He isn’t married?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If he is his wife was not with him and he -didn’t mention her. I’m almost sure that he’s -not.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did he talk about astronomy?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No—that is yes—only to say that he’d given it -up and art is his latest fad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Take care you don’t fall in love with him, he’s -very fascinating,” said Gloria, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know—why did you divorce him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How should I know?” Gloria frowned impatiently. -“Oh, because he was quite impossible—as -a husband. All men are.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll take your book to the bank now. I’ve -missed my morning class anyway,” said Ruth rising. -The weight of all the things she knew and guessed, -and did not know, was pressing heavily on her and -she longed for some one to whom she could tell -everything and get advice. Obviously her temperamental -aunt was not the one.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>At the door she paused again, making one last -effort to simplify her problem.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why don’t you discharge George anyway and -get another woman? I’m sure he must be very expensive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t like George, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I don’t. He’s not like any nigger I ever -saw before. Where did he come from anyway?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know exactly. He is a Hindoo, half-caste -I imagine, or he wouldn’t work as a servant, -and I found him in London. It was just before I -married Percy. George had been working in one -of the music halls as a magician and he was ill. I -took care of him. His colour didn’t matter—he was -in The Profession, in a way, you know, and when -he got well he offered to work for me and he’s been -with me ever since, about eleven years. I really -couldn’t do without George, you know. Percy didn’t -like him either.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why doesn’t he go back into vaudeville? He -could make more money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gratitude, I suppose—anyway, that wouldn’t -make very much difference, and so long as I have any -money at all, I shall keep George.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you know that he is really a Hindoo?” -asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He told me that when I first found him. You’re -more curious about George than Percy was. Percy -always said he looked like something come to life -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>from a pyramid, but George never liked Percy and -he won’t like you if you ask him questions.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I shan’t ask him questions.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do wish you hadn’t met Percy—he keeps coming -into my mind. Did he look well?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very well indeed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Happy?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s more difficult—you know I’d never seen -him before, so it would be hard to tell. If you—why -didn’t you let me tell him the truth; then probably -you’d have seen for yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I wouldn’t. He might have thought that I -deliberately tried to see him. Anyway I don’t want -to see him. I was only curious. Don’t speak about -him again, even if I ask. I want to forget him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth went out with thoughts more conflicting than -before. One moment she thought she detected in -Gloria a sentimental interest in her former husband; -the next she appeared to hate him, and apparently -there was no hope of persuading her to send -George away. She went to the restaurant on Eighth -Avenue for lunch, where she met Nels and Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you think?” said Nels. “I just heard -that Professor Pendragon is ill—paralysis or something -like that, and he certainly looked well last -night. I can’t understand it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The news doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite -any,” said Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly not—must keep up steam. Shouldn’t -wonder if that was why he’s ill. He never eats anything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>much. One can’t paint greatly unless one eats -greatly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When did he get ill, and how?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When he went home from the show last night—It’s -extraordinary because he’s never been troubled -that way and he was quite well just a short time before.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was thinking of George and of all the old -tales she had ever heard of the evil eye and black -magic. She was thinking of these things with one -part of her brain, while with another part she scoffed -at herself for being a superstitious, silly fool. If -only Amy hadn’t persuaded her to look through the -keyhole.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m going to go and see him tomorrow afternoon,” -said Nels. “I’d go today, but I have to -work.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Take us with you,” said Dorothy. “He invited -us to tea anyway and he seemed to be interested in -Ruth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“One can’t go to tea with a paralytic, Dot, besides, -he lives in a hotel, unless they’ve moved him -to a hospital. I’ll find out and if it’s all right of -course you can go too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just look at Ruth, Nels; she looks as concerned -as if the dragon were a dear friend.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not at all; it’s just that it’s sudden—and I -was thinking of something else too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was remembering Gloria’s last words about -not mentioning Pendragon’s name again. Here -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>was another piece of information that she must keep -to herself. It was so annoying to be just one person -with only one pair of eyes and ears and only one -small brain. If she could only see inside and know -what Gloria was really thinking, what depths of -ignorance or wickedness were concealed behind -George’s black brows, what secret Professor Pendragon -knew—and even, yes, it might blight -romance, but she would like to know just what Terry -Riordan thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Did Gloria love Terry or did her heart still belong -to her first husband? And what of those other -two whose names were never mentioned? If only -she could be one of those wonderful detective girls -one read about in magazine stories. How simply -she would solve everything.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She found Terry with Gloria when she reached -home. They were talking interestedly as they always -did, with eyes for no one else apparently, and -her heart sank. George came in to ask come question -about dinner. He did look like something that -had stepped from the carvings on a pyramid. His -fine features were inexpressibly cruel, yet there was -something splendid about him too. He was so tall—taller -than Gloria. Tall enough to play—she -stopped affrighted at her unnatural thought.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>The entire régime of the house on Gramercy -Square had been changed. Instead of rising -at eleven o’clock Gloria now left the house -shortly after eight, to be at the motion picture -studios in New Jersey at nine, so that Ruth seldom -saw her before dinner time. The balancing of -Gloria’s bank book disclosed that she had been living -at a rate far in excess of her income—news that did -not seem to trouble Gloria at all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll make it all up again in a few weeks now that -I’m working,” she said. “If you’ll only write out -a book full of checks for my poor, dear creditors, -I’ll sign them and then you can mail them out and -everything will be lovely—for a few months at -least.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, but don’t you think you ought to regulate -your expenditures according to your assured income, -Gloria? You know you aren’t always working,” -said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t be troubled with that now. Wait until -I get tangled up again—something always happens, -and nothing could be worse than the pictures; -regular hours like a shopgirl, and no audience.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth returned from school to find Gloria not yet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>home and the drawing-room empty, except perhaps -for Billie Irwin and Ben Stark, a tall, good-natured -youth, who had followed hard upon his letter and -who was perpetually asking Ruth to go to theatres -with him, where he had “professional courtesy” -due to having worked on Broadway the season before. -If Ruth refused, as she sometimes did, he -cheerfully turned his invitation to Billie Irwin, seemingly -as pleased with her society as with that of the -younger woman.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It troubled Ruth to think of them all, herself and -Miss Irwin and Ben Stark, all living here as if Gloria -had unlimited wealth, while Gloria went out every -morning to uncongenial work to keep up with the -expenses of her too large ménage. Only that morning -Amy had complained to her of having so many -breakfasts to prepare for people who rose whenever -they pleased and never remembered to make -her any presents. If only George would grow dissatisfied—but -he never seemed weary of serving -Gloria’s impecunious guests, and if he was still engaged -in midnight orgies of enchantment Ruth could -not know. She dared not repeat the keyhole experiment. -She wished that she had not taken Amy -upstairs to sleep; then she would have had a spy -below stairs. It was foolish of her to connect -Professor Pendragon’s illness with George, but she -could not help it. If she could only have some other -opinion to go by—or perhaps when she had seen -Professor Pendragon again, her illusion would be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>dispelled. Nels Zord had talked with him over the -telephone and Professor Pendragon had made light -of his illness and said he would be glad to have Nels -and the two girls come and have tea with him the -following Thursday. He said he was not going to -a hospital and hoped to be quite well when they -came. If he was well then Ruth could laugh at -her superstitious fears. Thursday was a good day -for all of them because there was no lecture Thursday -afternoon and they could all leave the Art -Students’ League at half-past four and go together -to Professor Pendragon’s hotel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The idea of visiting a man in his hotel, even a -man of forty who was ill, and in company with two -other people did not seem quite proper to Ruth, -but she did not say anything about it, having acquired -the habit of taking customs and conventions -as she found them. Nevertheless she was quite relieved -to find that Professor Pendragon had a suite -and that they were ushered into a pleasant room with -no hint either of sickness or sleep in it. She even -took time to wonder where the prejudice against -sleeping rooms as places of ordinary social intercourse -first originated.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Professor Pendragon met them, leaning on a -crutch, one foot lifted in the attitude of a delightful, -old stork.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s really kind of you to come,” he said, after -he had made them all comfortable. “You know I -have hundreds of acquaintances but very few -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>friends, as I have discovered since I became a victim -of the evil eye.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth could not restrain a start of surprise and -he looked at her, his dark eyes wrinkling with -mirth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you know about the evil eye?” he questioned.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I don’t. Only I suppose the phrase startled -me. What really is the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know and neither do the doctors apparently; -that’s why I call it the evil eye. I came home -from the show that night and went to sleep like a -good Christian with a quiet conscience, but when -I woke I found that my right leg was paralysed to -the knee. It was the dark of the moon that night. -I know because I always think in more or less -almanacal terms—that would be when the evil eye -would be most effective, you know; and I’m waiting -for the full moon to see if I will not be cured as -mysteriously as I have been afflicted.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Nels and Dorothy were listening with puzzled -eyes, not quite knowing whether Professor Pendragon -was jesting or in earnest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You mean all maniacal terms, if you believe -such rubbish,” said Nels, “and you need a brain -specialist, not a doctor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think that’s our tea at the door, if you’ll please -open it for me, Nels, and I promise not to talk about -the evil eye in the presence of such moderns as you -and Miss Winslow again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>“Why don’t you include Ruth in that?” asked -Dorothy, as Nels rose to open the door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because Miss Mayfield is not a modern at all; -she belongs to the dark middle ages.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid I’m a bit superstitious,” admitted -Ruth, and then hoping to test his sincerity, for he -had spoken throughout with a smile, and also to -throw, if possible, some light on the uncanny suspicions -that troubled her—“Even if you did believe -in the evil eye, who would want to harm -you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please do stop,” said Dorothy. “You’re spoiling -my tea with your gruesome talk. Where’s the -picture that Nels was to point out and advise you -about hanging?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is, perhaps, a more wholesome topic, but -we were only joking, Miss Mayfield and I.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve found the picture already,” exclaimed Nels—“the -one with the fat Bacchus—you see I picked -it out of all the others—I don’t blame you for -buying it; it’s delightful humour, depicting Bacchus -as a modern business man, fat and bald, yet clad in -a leopard skin with grape vines on his head, and -tearing through the forest with a slim, young nymph -in his arms—it’s grotesque and fascinating.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought you’d approve,” said Professor Pendragon. -“Now where shall we hang it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s all right where it is, unless you have a larger -picture to hang there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, while you’re unable to walk around, why -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>don’t you sit for a portrait—you’ll never have another -time when the sittings will be less irksome. -I’d come here and Ruth could come with me as a -chaperon, not that I need one, but we might as well -be perfectly proper when it’s just as pleasant—you -know,” she continued, slightly embarrassed by the -smiles on the faces of Nels, Professor Pendragon, -and Ruth. “I’m not looking for a commission at -all; I just want to paint you because you will make -an interesting subject, and because, if I can hang -you—I mean get your picture hung in the Academy, -I will get real commissions, just because you sat -for me. Now I’ve been perfectly frank,” she -finished.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Pendragon held out his hand to her, laughing:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Any of those numerous reasons ought to be -enough,” he said, “and if my infirmity lasts long -enough, I’ll be glad to have you come and help me -kill time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Better start before next dark of the moon,” -said Ruth mischievously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That gives you only ten more days,” said Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t really believe in those things?”—Dorothy’s -blue eyes were wide with distress—“Please -tell me the truth; Nels, they’re just teasing, -aren’t they?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course, you know they are; don’t be a silly -goose, Dot,” said Nels.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know they are, but even if they don’t believe -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>in all they say, they believe in something that I don’t -understand, now, don’t you?—confess.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She turned to Ruth, but it was Pendragon who -answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If mind is stronger than matter, and most of -us believe that now, then an evil thought has power -over matter just as surely as a good thought has -power, and the power of the evil thought will continue -until it is dispelled by good thought. There -if you like is black and white magic. I believe that -there are people in the world so crushed by fear and -wickedness that every breath of their bodies and -every glance of their eyes is a blight on all who -come near them, and I believe that there are people -who are so fearless and good that where they walk, -health and happiness spreads round them as an -aura, as sunlight on every life that touches them. -Does that satisfy you, Miss Dorothy?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh yes, that’s very beautiful, I’m sure,” said -Dorothy, looking a bit uncomfortable as if she had -been listening to a sermon. “When will you let -me come for your first sitting?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sunday morning if you like; that won’t interfere -with your classes, and it’s a good day for me -too, because I am duller than usual on Sunday.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As they were leaving, Ruth lingered for a -moment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you did have an enemy who was trying to -harm you, what would you do, Professor Pendragon?” -she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>“Evil works like good, can only be accomplished -with faith; if I had an enemy, I would destroy his -faith in his own power,” he answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth found the entire family, as Gloria called her -household, assembled when she reached the house -on Gramercy Park. Terry Riordan was among -them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please, Ruth, won’t you go to the theatre with -Terry tonight? He has a perfect passion for first -nights, but as an honest working woman I need my -rest and I’m too tired to go tonight,” said Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d like to, but—” Ruth glanced in the direction -of Ben Stark.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, don’t mind me,” said that youth. “The -fact that you have refused me three times won’t -make any difference. I’m accustomed to such treatment -from the fair sex.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why don’t you come with us?” said Terry. -“I have three tickets and intended taking both -Gloria and Ruth if they would go.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please, Miss Ruth, will you let me go with -you? I’ll walk a few paces in the rear and be a good -little boy,” said Ben. “You really must be kind to -me, because I’m going into rehearsals for another -trip to the coast with a company that will probably -go at least as far as Buffalo. You’ll miss my cheery -smile when I am far away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then we’ll all go together,” agreed Ruth, rather -annoyed that Terry should have suggested that Ben -go with them. Evidently he considered her too young -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>to be an interesting companion and would be glad -to have another man to talk to. It was perhaps for -this reason that when they started out she directed -most of her smiles and conversation to the erstwhile -neglected Ben, making that young man beam with -pleasure, while Terry seemed not to observe his -neglected state at all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s wrong, old chap? You are as solemn -as an owl and you ought to be as happy as larks -are supposed to be, with a real, honest-to-goodness -show on Broadway,” said Ben.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s going off next week,” said Terry. “It’s -been nothing but a paper house for a week, and -they’re going to try it on the road; I don’t seem to -have the trick or the recipe for success.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m so sorry; perhaps it will go well on the -road,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t feel sorry; it doesn’t matter very much; -I’ll write another. A man must do something and -if I grow very successful I might be tempted to -stop.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, one must play some game; that’s what Professor -Pendragon says.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s right, you met Gloria’s husband, didn’t -you? What’s he like?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very nice; I’ll tell you later all about it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were entering the theatre now and Ruth -wanted to talk to Terry about Professor Pendragon -when no one else was listening. Ben Stark was a -jarring note that precluded absolute revealment of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>her hopes and fears. Nevertheless she forgot to -be annoyed at his presence in the theatre for he -amused her with his comments about people on and -off the stage and Terry was strangely silent. The -play was a particularly inane bit of fluff and seemed -to be making a great hit. Ruth could imagine the -trend of his thoughts, the discouragement attendant -upon doing his best and seeing it fail, and watching -the success of an inferior endeavour, yet she envied -him, for he at least believed in his own work, and -the more she studied and compared her work with -that of other students, the more a creeping doubt -of her own ability filled her brain.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I need cheering up! Won’t you go to supper -with me?” he asked as they passed out of the -theatre.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His invitation was addressed to both Ben and -Ruth, but Ben, with motives which Ruth understood -only too well begged off.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know I have to report for rehearsals -tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind I’ll run -along.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He evidently thought that Terry would like to -be alone with Ruth, and Ruth, realizing his mistake, -was yet too timid to protest, even had she not secretly -desired to be alone with Terry. She had -never gone to supper with a man alone. It would -be an adventure, and the fact that she loved the -man even though he did not know or care, made it -even more thrilling. She bethought herself of her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>costume and wished that she were in evening -clothes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I’d better take you some place near -home,” said Terry. “If we use a cab we can save -time, and there won’t be so many people downtown -and we’ll be served quicker. I feel a bit guilty -about keeping you out late.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not a child,” said Ruth, pouting.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know you’re not, but you are—you’ll always -be one, I hope.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was about to ask why, but they were entering -a cab now and she did not ask. She wanted to -ask where they were going, but she did not ask that -either. She found herself with Terry afflicted with -a strange inability to talk. They rode almost in -silence to Fourteenth Street and entered a most -disappointing place.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth’s idea of supper after the theatre was a -place of soft lights and music with beautifully -dressed women and flowers, and sparkling wine. -She didn’t want to drink the sparkling wine herself -or even to wear the beautiful gowns, but she wanted -to see them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The place they entered was a low ceiled, dark -paneled room with no music visible or audible. -There were white spread tables, but the women -around them were far from beautiful, the men undistinguished -in the extreme—matrons on the heavy -order with men who were quite obviously, even to -Ruth’s untrained gaze, their lawful spouses. Both -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>men and women were giving more attention to their -food, than to their companions and they were drinking—beer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s quiet here and we can talk,” said Terry, -quite oblivious to Ruth’s disappointment, but when -they were seated he did not talk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me about the new comedy you’re writing,” -said Ruth, remembering the axiom that it is always -tactful to talk to a man about his own work.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I want to forget my work and myself. -Let’s gossip. Tell me about Gloria’s husband.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In this Ruth thought she detected the interest of -a jealous suitor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Professor Pendragon is very charming and -very clever and good looking. He is taller than -Gloria, and apparently has no particular vocation, -for he has given up astronomy. His interest in art -he calls a fad; he lives alone in a suite in the -Belton Hotel and about ten days ago he became -mysteriously paralysed—his right leg up to the -knee. That’s all I know,” said Ruth, “except that -he’s one of the most fascinating men I’ve ever seen -and I can’t understand why any woman would ever -give him up. He’s almost as wonderful as Gloria -herself. I’d like to say that he is ugly and old and -disagreeable for your sake, but he isn’t.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry looked at her uncomprehendingly for a -moment and then ignored her inference if he understood -it at all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s a lot of information to have collected -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>all about one person,” he said. “They say it was -a great love match and that they disagreed over -some trifle. They met and were married in London -and Gloria got a divorce in Paris less than a -year later. Curious his turning up just now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why just now?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because Gloria is a woman who must at all -times have some absorbing interest, and recently she -hasn’t had one and it’s telling on her. She has fits -of moodiness, and wild ideas that she never carries -out—like the proposed sudden trip to Palm Beach. -Two years ago when I first met Gloria she would -have gone. If only I could finish my comedy and -make it a real success with Gloria in the star -rôle—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You would really like to do things for Gloria,” -said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; I’m awfully fond of her. She’s been my -friend and has helped me ever since I first met her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then, please, can’t you persuade her to get rid -of George?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an intense appeal in Ruth’s voice that -surprised Terry more than her request.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why? How would that help her?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t explain it exactly. There are several -reasons. One is that Gloria has been living quite -beyond her income—I suppose I shouldn’t tell these -things even to you, but I am worried about her and -perhaps you can help—and she simply refuses to -give up her big house because it serves as a refuge -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>for professional people, friends of hers, out of an -engagement. Of course all these people think that -Gloria has unlimited means or they wouldn’t come. -She won’t even let me help her, though I could quite -easily. It’s because she really needs money that -she’s gone to work in motion pictures. I imagine -that George is an expensive servant and I thought -if we could make her discharge him, she could get -some one else for less money. Of course that -wouldn’t make much difference in her expenses—I -understand that—but it would be a start. It’s a -lot of small economies that count, you know,” she -said gravely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I had no idea that Gloria didn’t have lots of -money. Her second husband was Darral Knight, -a man who had made a fortune in toilet preparations. -It was he who gave her the house on -Gramercy Square. Then she married Brooks -Grosvenor and he settled an income on her when -they were divorced. I always supposed that it was -ample. Certainly from what I’ve heard of the man -he would have it fixed so that she could not get anything -but the income, and even that would be forfeited -if she married again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The income isn’t large, not really large enough -to afford such a big house, and Gloria has gone in -debt a lot and now she’s working to pay it off. You -see she’d have enough money if she would consent -to live differently.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But Gloria is not the sort of person who will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>ever live differently. I have often wondered how -she got by in such a big house with perpetual guests -and only two servants, but I suppose she just didn’t -want to bother with any more. But that isn’t the -reason you want her to get rid of George, is it? It -really wouldn’t make any appreciable difference, -would it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No—there are other reasons too, but I’m afraid -to tell you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Something you don’t like to put into words?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth nodded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I know. I’ve thought of it myself and -I don’t like to put it into words either, but I will, -so that we can understand each other perfectly—a -necessary thing if we are to help Gloria.” He -paused looking at her, and seemingly trying to -gather courage for what he was about to say.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You think that George is in love with his mistress.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth’s horrified face revealed that Terry had put -into words something quite foreign to anything in -her thoughts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t look so horrified, it sounds terrible to -us—it is terrible, but you must remember that -George is a Hindoo, not a nigger, and that he is -well educated, and that in many parts of the world, -the idea of a black man loving a white woman is -not so repugnant as it is here. I wouldn’t admit it -for a long time myself, but it’s the only plausible -explanation of a lot of things. Perhaps Gloria has -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>told you that when she first met George he was a -magician mahatma, who had been playing in -London music halls and that he had been out of -work for some time on account of illness. Out of -gratitude, apparently, he offered to serve her. Later -when he had quite recovered his health he could -easily have gone back to his former work, but he -didn’t go, though regardless of what Gloria pays -him, it must be much less than he could make on the -stage. If you’ve observed too, you will have seen -that his attitude, while quite respectful, is never the -attitude of a servant, and toward Gloria’s men -friends his attitude is almost offensively disrespectful, -especially when she is not present. He even -hates me. I’ve thought for a long time that she -ought to get rid of him, but I can’t go to her and -tell her what I think, for certainly Gloria doesn’t suspect -anything like that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>During this explanation, Ruth, recovered from -the first shock of his words, was thinking rapidly. -All her fears and superstitions came back one hundred -fold in the light of Terry’s revelation. They -gave reason and purpose to what she had seen and -what she had suspected. She debated in her mind -whether she dare tell everything to Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But evidently you had something else in mind—some -other reason,” he continued. “What was -it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked at his grey blue eyes and brown hair, -his clear, fair skin and firm chin—he was Western -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>of the West—he would never understand or believe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing,” she answered. “I suppose it’s just -that I sensed what you have said, without ever daring -to put it into words even in my own thoughts. -Couldn’t you try and tempt George back on to the -stage?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know—I couldn’t, because he doesn’t -like me, but I might get some one else to do it, that -is if he hasn’t forgotten all his old tricks. Eleven -years is a long time, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, he hasn’t—” but she decided not to finish -her sentence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The restaurant was almost deserted now, and -Terry bethought himself, with many apologies, of -his resolve not to keep Ruth out too late. He -would have hurried into another cab, but Ruth protested -that it was such a short distance and she -wanted to walk. In reality she thought that in the -darkness when she could not see his face so clearly -she might find the courage to tell him. Yet she -walked silent by his side, unable to speak. She was -lost in the wonder of being alone with him—he was -so tall and wonderful. She looked up at the stars -and gratitude filled her heart. It was good to love, -even when love was unreciprocated. She pitied -women who had never loved, as she did, unselfishly—a -love more like adoration than earthly passion. -She wanted to help Terry and Gloria. She would -rejoice in their marriage. If she could only solve -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>their problems, she would not care what life held for -her after that. It was an exalted mood for a girl -of nineteen years, some months and days, and -Terry, all unsuspecting, broke into it with words:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wish we could arrange to have Gloria and -Professor Pendragon meet again,” he said. “Pendragon -was the big love of her life, and no man -ever having once loved Gloria could possibly be -quite free of her sway. She made the other marriages -just for excitement, I think. I can’t imagine -any other reason. I’d like to have them meet again. -It would be interesting to say the least. I’m horribly -unmodern, but I believe that men and women -love once and once only.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed to Ruth that there was a note of sad -resignation and generous resolve in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I’ve promised Gloria that I will not let -him know anything about her. It’s very generous -of you to want to—to bring them together.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment Terry did not speak. He seemed -to be considering her words and looked at her in a -curious way that she did not understand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s not generosity—perhaps only curiosity,” he -said. “Gloria and I have been such good friends—and -I am tremendously fond of her. She is so -beautiful and charming and talented, but just now -I think she needs something, some one, bigger than -her work.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had reached home, Ruth in a state of exalted -pain and happiness. Terry loved Gloria; that was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>evident, but for some reason he did not hope to -win her. With noble generosity he was hoping -only for Gloria’s happiness—planning to bring her -and Professor Pendragon together. Somehow it -seemed that she and Terry were sharing sacrifice—he -his love for Gloria, she her love for him. It -gave her a feeling of sweet comradeship with him, -that almost compensated for the pain of knowing -that he did not love her. Perhaps behind her -thoughts too there was the faint hope that if -Gloria went back to her first husband, Terry might -change the object of his affections, but this thought -was only half defined, for at nineteen the idea of a -man loving twice is very inartistic. To Ruth all -real love was of the <i>Abelard and Heloise, Paul and -Virginia</i> type.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Thus she thought in silence while Terry waited -for her to unlock the door. The door opened to -her key and she turned to say good-night to him, -when her nostrils caught the overpowering perfume -of some strange incense, and in the hall she saw the -same blue haze that she had seen that night when -she found Amy on the stairs. Terry, too, had smelled -the incense, and paused, looking at her for explanation. -Her heart was beating at a tremendous rate. -Here was the opportunity that she had been seeking -to secure an unbiased witness. She put her finger -to her lips in sign of silence, as Amy had done that -night, and drew him with her into the hall. Then -she closed the door silently behind them. Without -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>knowing why he imitated her example in silence. -Inside the hall was heavy with the blue smoke and -the perfume that seemed to be smothering them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now I can show you why I want Gloria to send -George away. He’s downstairs now, I think,” she -was speaking in a low whisper. “I want you to see -for yourself. I haven’t dared to tell any one for -fear they wouldn’t believe. He’s down there,” she -pointed. “Don’t knock or let him know you’re -coming—I want you to see everything. Perhaps—I -know it sounds a terrible thing to do, but if you could -just look through the keyhole—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped abruptly, seeing Terry’s look of -amazement at such a request.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Believe me—it is better to do that—just look -once and you’ll understand.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She moved toward the rear of the house, tiptoeing -noiselessly and beckoning him to follow. At the -top of the short flight of steps she stopped again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Down there, behind that door,” she whispered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As one preparing to dispel the foolish fears of a -nervous woman, Terry advanced down the steps, -yet such was the influence of the hour, the strange -incense and Ruth’s manner that he walked softly. -Ruth followed him, but at the bottom Terry did not -bend down to look through the keyhole. Before -Ruth’s frightened eyes he put his hand to the handle -of the door, which swung inward at his touch.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A deeper blue haze than that above filled the room -into which they looked. In the centre of the room -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>George was kneeling—about his head a white turban -was wound and he was wrapped in a long, black -robe on which the signs of the zodiac were picked -out in gold thread. Before him was placed an altar, -which rose in a series of seven steps. At the bottom -a lamp was burning with a blue flame, from which -the clouds of incense were rising, almost obscuring -what lay coiled on the topmost step which spread -into a flat platform—an enormous serpent coiled, -with its head lifted from the centre of the mass and -swaying from side to side, seemingly in accompaniment -to a low monotonous chant that George was -singing, while he too swayed back and forth, for -some moments seeming not to know that the door -had been opened. Ruth could not understand the -words of the chant, but from the tone they sounded -like an invocation. George was praying to his reptile! -Suddenly, as if he had just seen them, he lifted -his hands and his voice rose, and the snake reared its -head far into the air, so that they could see its darting, -forked tongue. Then as George’s voice suddenly -stopped on a high note the snake subsided -again, and George rose to his feet and greeted -them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good evening,” he said, “I was just practising -my box of tricks. You know I used to be a professional -magician and Miss Mayfield has asked me to -accompany her to the Christmas party in the country -to help entertain the guests of the Peyton-Russells. -The snake is quite harmless,” he continued, picking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>it up on both hands and dropping it over his shoulders. -“Would you like to touch it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, no, no,” said Ruth, drawing back and instinctively -clutching Terry’s arm. Terry did not accept -the invitation either, but to Ruth’s surprise he -seemed to accept George’s explanation of the strange -scene as truth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We were attracted by the smell of the incense,” -he explained, “thought it might be fire and we’d -better investigate.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly, quite right.” Never had George’s -voice sounded so silky and lisping and sinister. He -stood quite still, seemingly waiting for them to go, -the snake coiled round his shoulders. Ruth was -only too glad to make her escape and Terry followed -her. In the hall he turned to her smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No wonder you were frightened if that’s what -you saw, but you see it’s quite all right—Gloria -knows about it and it hasn’t any significance. Of -course snakes aren’t pleasant things to have in the -house, but this one is harmless, so I hope it won’t -disturb your sleep.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you believe what George said,” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course, why not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because I don’t. He may be practising tricks -for the Christmas party—that may be true, but there -was no trick to what we saw just now—the snake -was real, and the altar and the incense—and George -was praying—he was praying to that snake.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Even so,” said Terry. “We’re not missionaries -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>that we should try to convert the heathen. I don’t -care how many snake worshippers there are in New -York.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t that, Terry—I know it sounds weird, but -the night I saw him before, was the night Professor -Pendragon was stricken with paralysis—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped frightened by the lack of comprehension -in Terry’s face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you see if George will worship a snake, -he is the sort of person who will pray calamities on -his enemies. If he loves Gloria, then he hates -Professor Pendragon, because he is the only man -Gloria has loved. When Pendragon’s name was -first mentioned, you remember the Sunday morning -I got the card to the water colour show, George -was even more concerned than Gloria, and when I -went he warned me to be careful what I said. I -believe that he is responsible for Pendragon’s -illness.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Comprehension had dawned in Terry’s face, but -with it Ruth could see a tolerant incredulity and a -wonder that she could believe such nonsense.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s reasonable enough that George hates Pendragon, -but even if he does hate him and even if -he was actually praying for him to be harmed, that -doesn’t give a prop snake the power to carry out his -wishes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t the snake; it’s the power of George’s -concentrated thought.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thoughts can’t harm people,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>“But they can—thoughts are things and evil -thoughts are as powerful as good ones.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She could almost see the thoughts passing through -Terry’s brain. He was looking at her, assuring -himself that she really was sane and had been up to -this night quite normal, almost uninterestingly -normal, and even while she tried to make her beliefs -clear she was conscious of a feeling of exultation -because for the first time she was actually interesting -the man.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve heard of Indian fakirs who could paralyse -parts of their own bodies so that knives could be -thrust into them without causing the slightest pain, -but I never heard of one who exercised such power -over another person, but even if that were possible -how would it help to send George away? If Gloria -sent him away, he could still keep on thinking and -worshipping snakes, too, for that matter,” he said, -smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Professor Pendragon told me that if he had an -enemy who was trying to harm him, he would try -and destroy that enemy’s faith in his ability to harm. -What we must do is destroy the snake first. George -worships the snake or some power of which the -snake is a symbol. Either way if we destroy the -snake we destroy George’s confidence in his ability -to harm.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I haven’t any objections to killing snakes. In -my opinion that’s what the horrid beasts were -created for, but this particular snake is probably -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>very valuable—he belongs to the profession and -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please don’t jest about it, Terry; it may be a -matter of life and death. If I hear that Professor -Pendragon is worse instead of better tomorrow, I -will be sure. Then we must do something before it -is too late. You must promise to help me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She laid her hand on his arm and looked up at -him with such genuine fear and entreaty in her eyes -that for a moment he understood and sympathized -with all of her beliefs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course I’ll help,” he promised, “but now I’d -best go, and you must go to bed and try not to dream -of snakes.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth waited impatiently for the noon hour, -so that she might ask Nels what news he -had of Professor Pendragon, but when she -finally met him he had not seen nor heard from -the Professor since the day they all had tea together. -On Sunday morning Dorothy was to go to him to -begin his portrait and Ruth was to accompany her. -Until then she probably would get no news. In the -afternoon when she returned to the house she found -Gloria there before her, having returned early from -the motion picture studios. Terry was there too, -reading the last of his new comedy which was now -completed. Gloria was enthusiastic about it and -Billie Irwin, who had been quite depressed for over -a fortnight, was now as cheery as if the contract -was already signed, for Gloria had picked out a part -that must certainly be given to Billie if she, herself, -was to play the lead.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They all talked as if the production of the play -was assured, and as if no one but the author would -have a word to say about how it should be cast, a -thing that seemed quite logical to Ruth until Terry -himself explained that he would have very little to -say about it, except as to Gloria, and she would be -given the leading rôle when the play was produced, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>not so much because Terry wanted her, as because -she was the only well-known actress who could possibly -fit it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>To hear the others talking one would think that -the play was going into rehearsals tomorrow with -all the parts distributed among Gloria’s friends. -Even Ben Stark begged Terry to try and hold out -one of the parts until he saw how his road tour was -coming out, and they were all discussing how the -various parts ought to be dressed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry had no opportunity to talk to Ruth alone, -but they exchanged significant glances when George -appeared with tea, looking so correct and conventional -that it was difficult to believe that they had -seen him the night before burning incense and kneeling -to a snake.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Any news?” Terry whispered, and Ruth could -only shake her head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When George had left the room Terry ventured -to speak of him:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s all this that George is telling me about -going up to the Peyton-Russells’ with you to -amuse the guests with vaudeville magic?” he -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, he’s been telling!” exclaimed Gloria. “I -intended it to be a surprise. He’s really quite wonderful, -you know, or at least he was quite wonderful -if he hasn’t forgotten.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It can’t do any harm, my knowing, as I’m not -to be one of them,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>“I’d get you an invitation, if there was -the slightest chance that you’d accept,” said -Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know I’d like to go, just to see George.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Consider yourself invited then. Angela will ask -any one that I tell her I want. They’ve got loads of -room and men are never too numerous even in the -trail of the fair Angela.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you think that George ought to go back -to his profession? If he’s as good as you say it -ought to be easy to get him signed up on the -Orpheum circuit. If he doesn’t know the ropes -here in the States I’ll be glad to help him,” said -Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It can’t be done—the biggest salary in the world -wouldn’t tempt George away from my service. It’s -the Eastern idea of gratitude. We had that all -argued out ten years ago. I told George that he -ought not to give up his career to serve me, but he -wouldn’t listen to me at all. He said that I had saved -his life, therefore it belonged to me. He almost -wept at the idea of having to go, and yet I sometimes -think that it is my life that belongs to -George instead of his life that belongs to me. He -is a most despotic servant and tries to rule all of my -actions. If my conduct displeases him he inconsistently -threatens to leave, but of course he doesn’t -mean it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria was smiling, reciting the peculiarities of an -amusing servant, but to Ruth her words were appalling. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>She seemed to see Gloria as a bright -plumaged bird, charmed by a snake. Once, years -ago when she was a little girl visiting in the country, -she had seen a bird thus charmed, circling, circling, -downward toward the bright-eyed snake that waited -for it. She had been unable to move or help, as -fascinated as the bird itself. She felt the same sensation -of helplessness now. She dared not look at -Terry, but a few minutes later he came to her side -and whispered to her:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Meet me at Mori’s tomorrow at five.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had never heard of Mori’s, but she could look -it up in the telephone directory. Evidently Terry -had some plan. The thought cheered her immeasurably.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The situation in the house was a curious one, for -Amy shrank with terror whenever George came -near her, at the same time leaping to do his slightest -bidding. Ruth, so far as possible, ignored George -completely and he never spoke to her directly unless -it was absolutely necessary, and Gloria did not seem -to either observe or sense that there was a strained -atmosphere in the house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The distrust of George and foreboding of the -future descended on Ruth the moment she entered -the house in the afternoon and remained with her, -colouring all her thoughts until she entered the Art -Students’ League in the morning. Here she forgot -everything in passionate pursuit of art, daily lifting -her ambition to higher ideals and daily seeming to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>demonstrate more and more her lack of talent for -the career which she had chosen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Seeing her earnestness her fellow students strove -to help her, giving her advice and criticism and now -and then a word of encouragement, and Ruth, whose -confidence in herself was fast slipping, listened to -everything, following the advice last received and -struggling to “find herself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The thing that hurt her most was the fact that as -yet she had seemed to attract no particular notice -from her instructors. In Indianapolis she had been -rather important and she could not think that the -greater attention she had received there was entirely -due to there not being so large a number of -students. She longed to ask one of the instructors, -but it was hard to do that. They came through, -looked impersonally at her work and made brief -comments about drawing, proportion, composition, -etc. Finally the courage came to her very suddenly -in the portrait class one morning. She had come -early and was in the front row. Very slowly the -instructor, the most frank and vitriolic of all the -instructors, according to Nels, was coming toward -her. Suddenly she knew that she would speak to -him that day. As he stopped from time to time, her -courage did not desert her. She waited quite calmly -until he reached her side. She rose to let him have -her chair, and for some seconds he looked at her -work without speaking. Then he began:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you see that your values are all wrong? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>And the entire figure is out of drawing; it’s a -caricature!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth listened almost without emotion. It was -as if he was speaking to some one else.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“By the way,” continued the instructor, looking -up at her suddenly, “didn’t I see some work of -yours in one of the Sunday newspapers about a -month ago?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth nodded; she could not speak.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought so; I was pleased and surprised at -the time to see how much better your work in that -line was than anything you have done here. That’s -what is the trouble with this; it’s a cartoon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I want to be a portrait painter; I’m interested -more in landscapes. Please tell me the truth. -Do you think I have talent—possibilities—will I -ever do anything?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He looked at her, frowning, yet with a half smile -on his lips.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me first, what are you studying for? Are -you collecting canvases to take home and show -Mother, or do you intend to try for a career—to -make a profession of painting?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is my profession—I’ve never wanted to do -anything else—I must be a great painter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She spoke with almost hysterical intensity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A shadow passed over the instructor’s face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is difficult to say who has and who has not -talent. So far I have seen no signs of it in your -work here. Unquestionably you have the cartoon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>gift, but as for painting—still a great desire may -do much. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had listened attentively, almost hopefully, -until those last words. Then she knew that he was -doing what Nels would have called “stalling.” He -did not believe that there was any chance for her. -He rose and went on about his tour of inspection, -and Ruth sank down into the empty chair. She did -not work any more, but sat still, looking at her -work, but not thinking of it—not thinking of anything. -She was roused by seeing the other students -filing out at the luncheon hour. She did not want to -see Nels and Dorothy; she would not go to their -restaurant, instead she would eat the “cheap and -wholesome” lunch offered in the building. There -she would be with strangers. She ate something, she -did not know what, and returned to her life class, -but again she could not work. She was beginning -to think definitely now. She had no talent—no -future. If she could not be a great artist, a great -painter, there was nothing in life for her. She didn’t -want anything else, not even love. If she could come -to Terry with a great gift, she would not stop hoping -that he would love her, but to be just an ordinary -woman—just a wife. If she was not to be a great -painter, then what was she to be? Very carefully -she went over every word of the professor. He had -admitted that it was difficult to say exactly whether -she had talent or not; he had only said that he had -discovered no signs of it. Yet he was only one man. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Thousands of geniuses in every field of endeavour -had been discouraged by their elders simply because -the new genius worked in a different manner from -those who had gone before. But that didn’t apply to -herself. She had no new and original methods. She -changed her style of work every day in response to -something she had heard or had seen. She had no -knowledge, no ideas about art, in herself. Yet all -beginners must be swayed by what they saw and -heard, influenced by this or that painter from day to -day, until they found themselves. Then she -wondered if she had a self to find. She was vaultingly -ambitious; she was industrious and something -of a dreamer, but with all this Ruth was practical. -She thought of perpetual students—did she want to -become one of them? That was what it meant, following -a muse who had not called. Art is not -chosen. It chooses its own. Dorothy Winslow was -wrong—fame could not be achieved merely by ambition, -energy, and determination—neither is genius -the art of taking pains, she thought. Sometimes it -is achieved with infinite carelessness. The hour was -afternoon, class was over and she had not touched -crayon to paper. Not until she was on the street, -hurrying out to avoid speaking to Nels or Dorothy, -did she remember her engagement with Terry. -Mori’s was on Forty-second Street. If she walked -she would arrive at the right time. She was no -longer curious as to what Terry would have to say. -Gloria and George did not interest her. She was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>arrived at branching roads and she must choose. She -realized that. Not that she could not keep on with -her studies, regardless of whether she had talent or -not. She could, for she was responsible to no one. -No one counted on her to make good, nor was there -any one to warn her against mistakes. She only -knew that she did not want to devote her life to -something for which she was not intended. She did -not want to fail, even less did she want to be a -mediocre success. She must live on Olympus or in -the valley. It occurred to her that her very thoughts -were proof of her unworthiness. If she were really -a great artist she would not be thinking of either -fame or failure, but only of her work. She was -walking rapidly so that she arrived at Mori’s before -five. She glanced at the watch on her wrist before -entering and he was beside her, coming from the -opposite direction.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“On time,” he said with mock surprise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I am ahead of time. I just came from the -League.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They went in together—a big room crowded with -innumerable tiny tables and many people, yet when -she found herself seated opposite him, pouring tea, -they seemed to be quite alone together. Perhaps it -was because the tables were so tiny, perhaps because -of the small, soft, rose-shaded light on each one, that -she seemed to be nearer him than ever before, both -physically and spiritually.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You were looking quite downcast when we met; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>I hope you aren’t worrying too much about George,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His tone was friendly, intimate, comforting, inviting -confidence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, it’s not that. Much more selfish. I was -thinking of my own troubles.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I didn’t know you had any.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, it’s art. You know I have thought for -years—three years to be exact—that I would one -day be a great painter and today I discovered that I -have no talent.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can’t know that; you’re discouraged over -some little failure. I don’t know anything about art, -but you’ve only been studying a few years and that’s -not time enough to tell.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, it is—I’ve compared my work with that -of other students and I’ve been afraid for some time. -Today I asked Burroughs, one of the instructors, -and now I know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But that’s only one man’s opinion. Just what -did he say?—I know the pedagogue-al formula, -three words of praise and one of censure to keep you -from being too happy, or three words of adverse -criticism and one of praise to keep you from being -too discouraged. Wasn’t it like that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; he just said very frankly that he would not -say that I had no future at all, but he did say that -if I had any my work at school had never given any -indication of it. He said my portraits looked like -cartoons, and then he remembered those awful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>sketches in the <cite>Express</cite>—” She stopped embarrassed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You never will live that down, will you?” said -Terry, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That isn’t fair, I didn’t mean that, only it’s all -so discouraging, to want to paint masterpieces and -to be told to draw cartoons.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did he tell you that?” Terry spoke eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not in so many words, but that’s what he -meant.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then he rather admired your ability to do cartoons?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose so.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then why don’t you go in for that? One must -do something, you know—play some game and that -is better than most.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you’d like I dare say you could do theatrical -caricatures for the Sunday <cite>Express</cite> every week. It -wouldn’t take much time. Of course you’d soon get -as fed up with the theatre as a dramatic critic, but -it would be interesting for a time and you could -continue to study, to take time to prove whether or -not you have talent. If you say I may, I’ll speak -to Daly about it the next time I see him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d like it I think—after all, as Mr. Courtenay -said, it’s better to be a good cartoonist than a bad -painter, and I can always keep on studying. It will -not be exactly giving up my ambition, only I won’t -be gambling everything on it.” Then, as if half -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>ashamed of her surrender, and wishing to change -the subject, “But we didn’t intend to talk about me, -we were going to talk about Gloria, weren’t we?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is it absolutely necessary that we should have -something very definite to talk about?” he asked, -smiling. “Suppose I just asked you to meet me -for tea, because.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Was he teasing her, she wondered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But now that we are together, because, let’s talk -about Gloria. I won’t know anything more about -Professor Pendragon until Sunday. I’m going -there with Dorothy Winslow, who is going to do a -portrait of him, but in the meantime I’d feel very -much happier if he was out of the house, or if not -George, at least the snake. Couldn’t you kill it, -Terry? That might make George so angry that he’d -leave. And anyway, the snake is the important thing. -Without the snake George would be comparatively -harmless. You must kill the snake.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But, my dear girl, how do you propose that I am -to make away with George’s little pet? It belongs -to George, you know. I don’t even know where he -keeps it, and if I did it is his property and it wouldn’t -be legal, you know—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wish you wouldn’t laugh at me—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not laughing at you. Even if I can’t quite -believe all the things that you believe, I can still see -that the situation is serious, but I can’t see how -killing the snake would help any. My idea is a bit -different and perhaps quite as bizarre in its way. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>I’ve been thinking that if we could bring Gloria and -Professor Pendragon together again, then he would -take her away from George and the snake and save -us the trouble of taking George and the snake away -from her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It sounds good, but there’s no way to do it. -I’ve given Gloria my word that I’ll not mention her -name to him and the other day she even made me -promise not to mention his name to her again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Even so, there must be other people who know -both of them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s only been in America two years—they’d -move in different circles, naturally.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, but circles cross—and look here, those pictures -will be coming out soon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t imagine he goes to the movies, certainly -not now that he’s ill.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, but he reads the newspapers; he’ll see her -pictures.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But that isn’t meeting her. If he’s at all like -Gloria, he’ll be too proud to look her up; besides -we may be talking nonsense. How do we know that -they don’t really hate each other?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s not the worst. People don’t usually hate -over ten years. They may be utterly indifferent. I -realize that possibility, but I don’t believe they are -indifferent. It’s all just guessing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The simplest way would be to get rid of the -snake,” persisted Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I know, but who’s to do it, and how?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>“You’re to do it, and I suppose that I, being in -the house, should plan the means—find out where -he keeps his pet and how to kidnap it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Even if it has the significance you suppose, -what’s to prevent him getting a new one?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They don’t sell them in the department stores, -you know,” said Ruth, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s wait until you see Pendragon again before -we do anything rash,” Terry closed the discussion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He came home with Ruth, who wondered if -Gloria would observe them coming together, and if -it might not wake in Gloria some latent jealousy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve persuaded Ruth to take up cartooning as -a profession,” he announced. His putting it into -words like that before all of them seemed to make -it final.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You mean those political things of fat capitalists -and paper-capped labouring men?” asked Ben -Stark.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly not,” said Terry. “You’re horribly -behind the times. That sort of thing isn’t done. If -she goes in for political cartoons at all she will draw -pictures of downtrodden millionaires defending -themselves from Bolsheviki, rampant on a field of -red, or of a mob of infuriated factory owners -throwing stones at the home of a labour leader—she -may draw a series of pictures showing in great -detail how a motion picture actress makes up to conceal -the wart on her nose before facing the camera.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t at all settled yet,” said Ruth. “I may -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>not be able to get a—a job.” She hated the word, -but pronounced it in a perfect fury of democratic -renunciation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think there’ll be any trouble,” said -Terry. “There’s always a demand for that sort of -thing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Altogether, however, the announcement produced -surprisingly little comment from Gloria and her -friends. They seemed to take it as a matter of -course, like Gloria’s going into motion pictures. She -had been, despite her fears, rather successful, and -had been offered a new contract, which, however, -she was unwilling to sign until she knew more about -the production of Terry’s comedy. If Terry’s play -really got a New York production, Gloria would -be only too glad to desert the camera.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The revelation of Ruth’s duplicity to Professor -Pendragon was threatened in a most unexpected -manner, Sunday morning. First Dorothy called for -her at the house, and this time, manifested more curiosity -about her surroundings than she had done -previously, because this time her mind was not on the -more important matter of frocks.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Who do you live with here?” she asked Ruth, -as she waited for her to put on her hat and -coat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth hesitated; she hated deception of any kind, -or making mysteries. After all it was very silly of -Gloria. If one must leave ex-husbands scattered -around the world, one should contemplate the possibility -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>of running across them now and then with -equanimity. And then the stupid idea of concealing -their relationship. It was all most annoying.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“With a woman who was a friend of my father,” -she answered at last, but Dorothy was not to be put -off so easily.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I mean what’s her name?” she asked with -frank curiosity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria Mayfield—she’s really my aunt,” said -Ruth with a desperate realization that she might as -well speak now as have her secret come out later -under less favourable circumstances. After all, -Dorothy didn’t know that Pendragon was one of -Gloria’s husbands and she might not mention their -relationship to him anyway.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The actress?” asked Dorothy, with a rising inflection -composed of astonishment, envy, and doubt -in her voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Uh—huh.” She tried not to be pleased at the -look in Dorothy’s blue eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’s in pictures, isn’t she, now? I saw her -picture in at least three newspapers this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know—I’ve not seen any newspapers -this morning,” she answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will I meet her?” asked Dorothy. She was a -most distressingly natural and unaffected person. -She always said what she thought and asked for -what she wanted without the slightest effort at concealment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I dare say you will if you come often enough. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>She’s asleep now, but she’s not at all difficult to -meet.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps I could paint her,” again suggested -Dorothy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think Gloria could sit still long enough.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Things were developing too rapidly for Ruth. -She had known that Dorothy would be interested, -but she had not thought that her interest -would take this turn, though she might have guessed, -for Dorothy looked at everything and every person -as so much available material. She worked incessantly -with both hands and brain. She didn’t just -study art; she lived it in the most practical manner -possible. She was becoming quite well known as a -fashion artist and could have been busy all the time, -had she not continued her studies. As it was she -did quite as much work as many fashion artists who -devoted all their time to it. And she never for a -moment let herself think that being a fashion artist -today would debar her from becoming a famous -portrait painter tomorrow. She was building high -hopes on Professor Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>On the way to his hotel Ruth told her about her -decision to go in for cartooning professionally, and -she rather hoped that Dorothy would discourage her, -but she was disappointed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Splendid! You’re doing the right thing. You -know I don’t think you’ll ever get any place with -painting. Nels thinks that, too, but you have a -genius for caricature. Those things in the <cite>Express</cite> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>were really clever. Lots of character and good action. -You’ll be famous.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Famous!” Ruth put as much scorn as possible -into the one word.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course—beginning with Cruickshank there -have been ever so many caricature artists in the last -two centuries whose names will last as long and -longer than most of the painters.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not respond to this. She was wondering -if after all she might not one day, not only be -reconciled to the work destiny had given her, but be -actually rather proud of it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were expected by Professor Pendragon and -were conducted immediately to his apartment, but -when the boy knocked at his door, he did not open -it as on the former occasion, instead they were met -by a white uniformed nurse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Professor Pendragon begs to be excused from -his appointment. He is very much worse. The -paralysis has extended from his knee to his hip. He -asked me to say that he will be glad to make good -his promise as soon as he is well.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The effect of this announcement was bad enough -on Dorothy, who naturally was bitterly disappointed, -but its effect on Ruth was much worse. -Professor Pendragon’s misfortune had fallen upon -him on the night that she first watched George, and -a repetition of George’s ceremonial had brought -with it the increased misfortune to him that she had -feared. She was eager to hurry away and find an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>opportunity to tell Terry of this new development, -but Dorothy lingered at the door, expressing sympathy, -which Ruth suspected was more for herself -than for Professor Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Professor Pendragon called to the nurse to let -them come in. He was propped up on a chaise -longue, with newspapers and the remains of breakfast -scattered about on the floor and on a low table -beside him. His face was very pale and Ruth -thought that he looked as if he had not slept. She -tried not to look at some photographs of Gloria -prominently displayed on the scattered sheets. Evidently -he had seen them, so now he knew that she -was in New York, or at least in America.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m awfully sorry to disappoint you and myself. -But you see a man can’t have his portrait painted in -a pose like this,” he said. “I can’t imagine what’s -wrong with me, but of course it won’t last long. A -friend of mine has asked me out to his place in the -Berkshires and I think I’ll go. Perhaps this may -be the result of nerves, and anyway, lots of cold air -and altitude and quiet can’t do any harm. When I -return I’ll be very glad to make good, but perhaps -by that time you will have so many commissions that -you won’t have time for me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No chance,” said Dorothy. “I shall be waiting -for you.” And then: “How long do you think it -will be?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll know definitely after Christmas eve, -next dark of the moon, you know.” He was smiling, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>the smile that Ruth had grown to suspect hid a serious -thought. “Either the paralysis will have crept -up to my heart, or it will have gone entirely. I am -waiting.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dorothy laughed nervously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What nonsense; of course you’ll get well and the -moon hasn’t anything to do with it anyway. We’re -awfully sorry that you’re ill, and don’t forget to let -me know when you get back to town.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>When Ruth took his hand to say good-bye she -thought he looked at her reproachfully, but she -dared not meet his eyes. Dorothy was looking down -at the pictured face of Gloria that was smiling up -at them, but apparently she looked with unseeing -eyes, for she did not say anything.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In a way it would have relieved Ruth’s conscience -if Dorothy had spoken. She might then have discovered -whether Pendragon knew of her deception -and what he thought. One thing she knew. Professor -Pendragon was really facing death—a mysterious, -relentless death that could not be overcome -or even combated. When he died no one would -search for his murderer—no one would believe that -his death was anything but natural, and the force -that had killed him would still go on through the -world, too mysterious and unbelievable for modern -minds to compass.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>It was the first time that Ruth had seen Prince -Aglipogue, though apparently he was on the -most congenial and intimate terms of friendship -with Gloria. He was at the piano now, accompanying -himself, while he sang in Italian. He had -glossy black eyes, glossy red lips, glossy black hair, -smooth glossy cheeks and what Terry described as -a grand opera figure. He was a Roumanian, and -while he sang magnificently, was a passable pianist -and a really good violinist, he was at present earning -his living as a painter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria had finished her motion picture contract -and was relaxing. Ruth had just come home from -the League and found Gloria, Terry, Billie Irwin, -Prince Aglipogue and Angela Peyton-Russell at the -house. Ben Stark had at last started out on tour, -or he would also have been there. Ruth often thought -that her aunt’s house was more like a club than a -home. Of course Ruth did not immediately learn -all the foregoing details about Prince Aglipogue, -whom Gloria called Aggie, and the others called -Prince. Her information came in scraps gathered -from the conversation of the others. She had -slipped quietly into the room while Prince Aglipogue -was singing and was introduced to him when he had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>finished. He bowed with surprising depth and grace -for a man with no waist line to speak of, and regarded -her out of his glossy, black eyes. He spoke -entirely without accent, but constructed his sentences -curiously, Ruth thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As always when there were many people Ruth -did not talk, but listened. Mrs. Peyton-Russell had -come to talk over with Gloria the details of her -Christmas party. As at present arranged she would -have one more man than woman, and it appeared -that her party must be conducted strictly on the Ark -principle, with pairs. She was deeply distressed. -She had invited Billie Irwin in a patronizing burst of -generosity, but Billie had also secured an engagement -that would take her out of town and could not -come.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know who to have,” Angela complained. -“Of course there are dozens of people I could ask, -but I wanted this to be just our little Bohemian -circle—no swank, no society people—just friends.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>No one seemed to mind this remark. George had -come in with a tea wagon and the Prince was engaged -in the, to Ruth, alarming, procedure of drinking -whiskey and soda and eating cake. Witnessing -this catholic consumption of refreshment she could -easily conceive that an invitation to any party under -any circumstances, would be welcome to him. As -for Gloria, she was accustomed to Angela, and did -not mind her airs. Since her marriage Angela had -consistently referred to all her old friends as “our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>little Bohemian circle,” a circle, to which she was -constantly reverting for amusement, after unsuccessful -attempts to gain access to the more conventional -circles described as Society.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Angela’s heart is as good as her complexion,” -Gloria always said, and that was indeed high praise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just tea, please, Gloria,” Angela was saying. -“I never drink anything stronger any more—no, -no real principle, but people in our position must set -an example, you know. Not sweets—I really don’t -dare, well just a tiny bit. You know there is a tendency -to stoutness in our family.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is, I suppose, in that, nothing personal,” -said Prince Aglipogue, hastily swallowing a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">petit -fours</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela laughed gaily. She pretended to believe -everything the Prince said to be extremely clever.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But that doesn’t solve my problem,” said Angela. -“You are all to come up on the Friday night -train. We’ll meet you at the station at North -Adams. You must be sure and dress warmly, because -it’s a twenty-mile drive through the hills and -while there’ll be lots of robes in the sleigh, one -can’t have too much.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It will remind me of Russia,” said the Prince.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll be sure to bring your violin and some -music,” said Angela.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Prince Aglipogue assented carelessly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I really think it will be tremendously successful,” -said Angela, “not a dull person in the party, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>only John has invited one of his friends—he’s coming -up early. I forget his name, but anyway I haven’t -the slightest idea what he’s like and he makes my -party uneven. Come to think, though, John said -something about his being ill—lungs, I suppose, so -perhaps he won’t want to talk to any one. Anyway -I’ll try and think of some one congenial before it’s -too late.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She rambled on, sipping her tea and forgetting -her diet to the extent of two more cakes, while -George moved in and out among them apparently -a model of what a perfect servant could be.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course you’ll sing for us,” she demanded of -the Prince.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You will inspire my best efforts,” he assured her, -looking at Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you’ll be sure to have some clever stories, -Mr. Riordan.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Evidently every one would have to pay for their -entertainment. Ruth wondered if she would be -expected to draw.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And the best part of the entertainment is to be -a secret.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid it isn’t to most of them,” said Gloria. -“Professional pride got the better of George’s -discretion and he told Terry and Terry told -Ruth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is it?” asked the Prince, evidently fearing -a rival attraction.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s George,” explained Gloria. “He used to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>be a music hall magician and he’s going to do his -tricks for us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” Prince Aglipogue shrugged his fat -shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You won’t be so scornful when you’ve seen him. -He was one of the best and if he hasn’t forgotten -he’ll astonish you. George is a Hindoo, you know, -and he doesn’t need a lot of props to work with.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And he is working here as your—as your butler.” -It was indeed difficult to classify George. -His duties were so numerous and varied.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, Aggie, as my butler, footman, and he will -be cook and maid as well, I’m afraid, for Amy has -given notice. She’s leaving at the end of the week, -unless Ruth can persuade her to stay.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why Ruth?” asked Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. Servants always have favourites -and while George is devoted to me, Amy is devoted -to Ruth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Devotion? Among servants!” Angela threw -out her hands in a despairing gesture and then -launched forth on a discussion of servants to which -no one paid much attention, with the possible exception -of Billie Irwin, who listened to every one on -every subject, showing her keen attention to their -words by sundry nods, smiles, and shakes of the -head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela was taking Gloria away with her to dinner -and Prince Aglipogue, finally having consumed -the last scrap of cake, and convinced that he would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>not be asked to come with them, took his departure. -Billie Irwin went up to her room to rest, -Gloria and Angela went away and Terry also departed, -leaving Ruth alone. She rather hated these -evenings when Gloria was away and she had to dine -alone. Amy usually served her on these occasions, -George hardly thinking that one person at the table -justified his appearance. She was wondering whether -she should tell her not to trouble with dinner and go -out, when George came in to take away the tea -things. Ruth was almost as much afraid of George -as Amy, but she nerved herself to speak to him now, -because she questioned whether she would again -have such a good opportunity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How is your pet?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I beg your pardon,” said George, capturing a -glass from the piano and a tea cup from the floor -with what looked like one movement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I mean the snake that you use in your—in your -tricks.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do not perform <i>tricks</i> with the daughter of -Shiva.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you said you were rehearsing the day Mr. -Riordan and I looked in on you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You knew that I was not speaking the truth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>As he talked he went on about his duties. There -was in his attitude toward her nothing of the servant. -He did not pronounce her name once, but -spoke as one speaks to an equal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why should I think that you were speaking anything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>but the truth? If you were not telling the -truth I must speak to Miss Mayfield. I don’t think -she would like the idea of having a snake in the -house.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He put down the cup in his hand and turned to -her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Mayfield is well aware that the daughter -of Shiva is with me. She has been with me since -my birth and was with my father before me, and -she is sacred.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“George, you ought to be ashamed to believe all -that superstition—an educated—” she stopped, the -word nigger on her lips—“man like you. It’s -nothing short of idolatry.” She was trying to talk -to him as she would have scolded at one of her -mother’s coloured servants.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You prefer the mythology of the Hebrews?” -asked George.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth decided to ignore this.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And now you’ve frightened poor Amy so that -she is leaving. That ought to concern you, for it may -be some time before Miss Mayfield can find any one -to take her place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is of no importance, for on the first of the -year the house will revert to its original owner and -she will not need servants. She will be travelling with -her new husband.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Her what?” Ruth forgot that she was talking -to George. She stared at him wide eyed, unwilling -to believe that she had heard him rightly.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>His blue lips curled up in a thin smile:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly—wait and you will see that I am -right. She herself does not know it, but she will -marry Prince Aglipogue on the first of the new -year.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She will do nothing of the sort—she can’t—he’s -fat!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was protesting not to George but to herself, -for even against her reason she believed everything -George said to her. He shrugged his shoulders, -still smiling at her, and it seemed to her that the iris -of his eyes was red, concentrating in tiny points of -flame at the pupils.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are speaking foolishly out of the few years -of your present existence; back of that you have the -unerring knowledge of many incarnations and you -know that what I say is true. Has she not already -had three husbands? I tell you she will have one -more before she finally finds her true mate. She -has suffered, but before she knows the truth she -must suffer more. Through the Prince she will -come to poverty and disgrace, and when these things -are completed she will see her true destiny and follow -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A mist was swimming before Ruth’s eyes so that -she no longer saw the room or the figure of George—only -his red eyes glowed in the deepening shadows -of the room, holding her own. She struggled to -move her gaze, but her head would not turn; she -tried to rise, to leave him as if his words were the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>silly ravings of a demented servant, but her limbs -were paralysed. Only her lips moved and she heard -words coming from them, or echoing in her brain. -She could not be sure that she really made a sound.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In the whole world there are only two men who -are fit to walk beside her—and of those one is -slowly dying of an unknown disease. He whom the -gods chose will soon be gone, but I remain because I -have knowledge. In the <cite>Mahabharata</cite> it is written, -‘Even if thou art the greatest sinner among all -that are sinful, thou shalt yet cross over all transgressions -by the raft of knowledge,’ and the Vedas -tell of men who armed with knowledge have defied -the gods themselves—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He paused and turned on her almost fiercely:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think that I have renounced my caste, -that I have lived with the unclean and served the -unclean for nothing—the price has been too high -for me to lose—but no price will seem too high after -I have won!”</p> - -<p class='c008'>Ruth woke to find herself alone and in darkness, -save for the light from the street lamps that shone -through the curtained windows. With her hands -stretched out in front of her to ward off obstacles -she moved cautiously through the room until she -found a light to turn on. She felt weak and dizzy, -but she remembered everything that George had -said. It could not be true—it could not, but with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>her denials she still heard George’s voice speaking -of the raft of knowledge and she half remembered -the incomprehensible contradictions of Indian mythology—of -heroes and holy Brahmans who had -actually fought with gods and conquered, but these -men had only won power through self-denial. Possibly -George thought that by living as a servant for -eleven years he was performing austerities—possibly -did not know what he believed. Certainly modern -Hindoos did not believe as he did. His mind seemed -to be a confused mass of knowledge and superstition, -ancient and modern, but one thing he had—faith -and absolute confidence in his power, and she -remembered some words she had read, when, as a -child, she pored over books of mythology instead -of fairy tales: “All this, whatever exists, rests absolutely -on mind,” and “That man succeeds whom -thus knowing the power of austere abstraction, practises -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was roused from her thoughts by the entrance -of Amy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ain’ yo’ goin’ eat dinnah? That voodoo man, -he’s gone out, an’ I saw you-all sleepin’ here and -didn’t like to disturb yo’. Yo’ dinnah’s cold by now, -but I’ll warm it up—now he’s gone I ain’ ’fraid to -go in the kitchen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not hungry, Amy, and I’m sorry you’re -going.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dat’s all right. I ain’ so anxious fo’ wu’k as -that. I don’ haf to wu’k with devils. An’ yo’ bettah -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>eat. You-all too thin. It’s a shame you-all havin’ -ter eat alone heah while Mis’ Glorie go out to -pahties. She don’ treat yo’ like folks. Dat devil -man he’s hoodooed her. I’ve seen him lookin’ at -her with his red eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She went on muttering and returned with dinner -on a tray, and Ruth knowing the uselessness of resistance -dutifully ate, while Amy hovered near.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me all about it, Amy. What has George -been doing now? I thought you would be satisfied -when I let you sleep upstairs.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, sir, I ain’ satisfied nohow. I wouldn’t wu’k -heah or sleep heah ’nother night not for all the -money in the worl’. Dat man he sets an’ sets lookin’ -at nothin’ an’ then he runs knives inter his hans—an’ -he don’ bleed. He ain’ human—that’s what.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sorry, Amy—I don’t want you to go and -neither does Gloria, but of course we can’t keep you. -Let me know if you don’t get another place or if -anything goes wrong. Perhaps later George may go -and then you can come back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He won’t go. One mawnin’ you-all will wake -up dade—that’s what goin’ happen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shook her head, looking at Ruth with real -tears in her eyes. Apparently she thought she looked -at one doomed to early death, and Ruth, though she -knew the threatened evil was not for herself, had -long since lost the ability to laugh at Amy’s superstitions.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Terry Riordan arranged an interview -for Ruth with the Sunday editor of the -<cite>Express</cite>, with the result that she found herself -promised to do a weekly page of theatrical -sketches, beginning the first of the year, and she -discovered the unique joy of having real work which -was wanted and for which she would receive money. -Also she discovered that association with a newspaper -and connection with a weekly stipend gave her -a prestige with her fellow students which no amount -of splendid amateur effort would have won for her. -Dorothy and Nels told every one they knew about -“Ruth Mayfield’s splendid success,” and Professor -Burroughs congratulated her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is always sad to see a student with a real -gift neglecting it for a fancied talent,” he said, “and -it is equally satisfying when any of our students -wisely follow the line of work for which they are -fitted. We don’t want to turn out dabblers, and too -often that’s what art students become.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth would have looked forward to the beginning -of the next year eagerly, had she been thinking only -of herself, for her new work was throwing her much -in the company of Terry Riordan, who was taking -her to the theatre every night, so that she would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>become familiar with the appearance and mannerisms -of the popular actresses and actors. Of course -he was doing it only because he was such a kind-hearted -man and because he wanted to help her, but -even Ruth knew that if she had not been a rather -pleasant companion he would not have taken so much -interest in helping her. His cheerfulness puzzled -her. He seemed so brave and happy—but perhaps -it was merely the forced gaiety of a man who is trying -to forget.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was not, however, her own affairs that interested -her most. Terry had found a producer for -his play and despite the lateness of the season, rehearsals -for it were to begin in January. Gloria -had been offered the leading rôle, and with characteristic -perverseness had said that she was not at -all sure that she wanted it, information that Terry -refused to convey to the manager. This, coupled -with the fact that Gloria was now constantly in the -company of Prince Aglipogue, made Ruth remember -vividly her conversation with George. Her beauty, -her restlessness, her changeful moods seemed to increase -from day to day. She was always kind to -Ruth, but she was very seldom with her. Invitations -that a month before would have been thrown away -unread were now accepted and Gloria dashed about -from one place to another, always with Prince Aglipogue -in her wake. His ponderous attentions seemed -to surround her like a cage and she, like a darting -humming-bird, seemed ever to be struggling to escape -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>and ever recognizing the bars that enclosed her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry and Ruth, returning very late from supper -after the theatre, would sometimes find her sitting -in semi-darkness, while the Prince sang to her, but -in such brief glimpses there was no chance for intimate -conversation between the two women. Alone -with Terry at the theatre or in some restaurant, Ruth -almost forgot the shadow hanging over the house -on Gramercy Park. Terry was so gay and amusing, -so healthful and normal in his outlook, and wherever -they went they met his friends, until Ruth began to -feel like a personage. It was all very pleasant. Late -hours had forced her to appear less and less often -at the morning class, but she was always at the -League in the afternoon and she began to wonder -whether she would not give it up altogether as soon -as she actually began her work for the <cite>Express</cite>. She -had tried to tell Terry about her talk with George; -but a few hours away from George and his snake -worship and the sight of George in his rôle of -servant had restored what Terry called his mental -balance, and he no longer regarded him as dangerous. -He was beginning to be a bit ashamed of even -listening to Ruth’s fears.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s only natural that you should be nervous—that -we should both have been a bit impressed, it -was so weird and unexpected, but after all George -is just a servant, and the snake is probably a harmless -reptile, such as one sees in any circus. I do not think -that he is a bad servant and that he does not regard -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>Gloria as a servant should; he’s impertinent and disagreeable, -if you like, but I don’t believe he has the -slightest thing to do with Professor Pendragon’s -illness. How could he?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He talked thus until Ruth despaired of securing -his assistance. Terry had given Gloria a contract -to sign, which she persistently refused to consider. -Finally he appealed to Ruth about it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t you make Gloria sign it?” he said. “She -seemed keen enough before we found a producer and -before the thing was cast, and now that she has the -contract before her, she seems to have lost all interest. -I can’t imagine what’s wrong. Of course temperament -covers a multitude of sins, but she never -was temperamental about her work.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps she’s decided to really abandon the -stage,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were having supper together—Ruth didn’t -know where. One of the delightful things about -Terry was that he never asked her where she wanted -to go. He didn’t even tell her where they were -going. He just took her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry looked at her in amazement. “Leave the -stage?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did it ever occur to you that Gloria might marry -Prince Aglipogue?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry answered with a laugh:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear child, you’ve thought so much about -Gloria and George that you’re beginning to think of -impossibilities. Gloria wouldn’t marry a man like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>that, and if she did she’d have to stay on the stage -to support him. The house, of course, belongs to -her, but the income from her other husband—I -forget his name—would certainly stop if she remarried.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know; I thought it was preposterous too, but -she’s always with him, and George told me that -Gloria would marry Aglipogue.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Servants’ gossip, or perhaps he did it to annoy -you. Did you tell Gloria?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I never get a chance to talk to her any -more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you told her it might make her angry enough -to dismiss him. Gloria hates being discussed. Is -the Prince going to the Christmas party?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course; he goes everywhere that Gloria goes. -I know you think that I am foolish and superstitious, -but I can’t help thinking that George has some -power over Gloria—that what he says is true—that -he’s forcing her to marry Prince Aglipogue and that -he is responsible for Professor Pendragon’s strange -illness. The first time I saw George with the snake -was almost three months ago—that same night Professor -Pendragon became paralysed; the next time -was just a month later and at the same time Professor -Pendragon’s paralysis became suddenly worse. -It was at the dark of the moon—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The last words were spoken almost in a whisper -and when she paused Terry did not speak, but sat -waiting for her to go on.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>“I know George hasn’t worshipped the snake -since that time, for I’ve been in the house every night -and you can always tell because of the incense that -fills the hall and lingers there for hours. Christmas -Eve will be the next dark of the moon. I know, for -I’ve looked it up. We’ll all be in the Berkshires -then, at the Peyton-Russells’. George will be there, -too—and I’m afraid—I’m afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry still sat silent looking at her with an expression -of helpless amazement. His blue eyes were -troubled and doubting and she knew that while he -did not quite disbelieve her, he was by no means -convinced, that her fears were justified. It was all -too bizarre and unusual. The only trace of fear -in his eyes was for herself, not for Gloria, or Professor -Pendragon. She had been bending eagerly -toward him. Now she sank back with a little helpless -sigh. Instantly Terry’s hand reached across the -table and caught her own in a comforting grip.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me what you want me to do, Ruth; I’ll -do anything. I’ll do anything for you—anything in -or out of reason. I don’t understand all this talk -about snakes and black magic, but whatever you -want done, you can depend on me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The blood rushed into Ruth’s cheeks in a glow of -happiness. Something deeper than friendship -thrilled in his voice. For a moment she forgot -Gloria, and believed that she was looking into the -eyes of her own acknowledged lover. Then she remembered. -His words, even his eyes told her that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>he did, but it could not be true. For a moment she -could not speak. She must think of Gloria first and -herself afterward, but she wanted to prolong her -dream a little while. Finally she told him what she -had decided in her own mind was the only thing -that Terry could do for her. She knew that he did -not believe that George was menacing the life of -Professor Pendragon, or that he was influencing -Gloria to marry Prince Aglipogue, but even though -he did not love her, he would do whatever she -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want you to get me a revolver, Terry; I want -a revolver—one of those little ones—before we go -to the Christmas party.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She did not quite understand the curious “let -down” expression on Terry’s face, when she made -her request.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t want to shoot George or the snake?” -he asked, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t want to shoot any one or any thing -unless—anyway I’d feel much more comfortable if -I had a little revolver.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You shall have one; I’ll call it a Christmas -present; but can you shoot?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. I suppose I could hit things if -they weren’t too far away or too small.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you accidentally kill any of your friends I -shall feel morally responsible, but I suppose I’ll just -have to take a chance. Do you by any chance want -the thing to be loaded?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>“Of course,” said Ruth, ignoring his frivolous -tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They went home together almost in silence. Ruth -did not know what occupied Terry’s thoughts, but -she herself was wondering if she could find the courage -to ask Terry to save Gloria from George and -Aglipogue, by marrying her himself. It was all very -well to be unselfish in love, but for some weeks at -least it seemed to her that Terry had given up all -effort to interest Gloria. If he would only make -an effort he might save Gloria from the Prince and -win happiness for himself, but despite her generous -resolves, she could not bring herself to advise him -to “speak for himself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They could hear Prince Aglipogue singing as she -unlocked the door of the house on Gramercy Square. -The sound of his voice and the piano covered the -opening and closing of the door, so that they stood -looking in on Gloria and her guest without themselves -being observed. The song was just ending—Prince -Aglipogue at the piano, her eyes wide and if -she heard the music she did not see the singer. There -was a trance-like expression in her eyes and when, -the song ending, they saw Aglipogue draw her to -the seat beside him and lift his face to kiss her, with -one movement Terry and Ruth drew back toward -the outer door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Guess I’d better go,” whispered Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; you saw George was right. They didn’t -see us—don’t forget my revolver.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>She closed the door after Terry, this time with a -loud bang that could not fail to be heard and as she -turned back she saw, far down the hall, two red eyes -gleaming at her, like the eyes of a cat. She wondered -if George had been watching too, and if his -quick ears caught her whispered words to Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria called her name before she entered the -room, almost like old times, but Prince Aglipogue -did not seem to be particularly pleased to see her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You were singing,” she said to him. “Please -don’t stop because I’ve come. I love to hear -you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you, but it is late for more music; and -it is late, too, for little girls who study, to be up -even for the sake of music.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even a week ago he would not have dared speak -to her like that. He sat staring at her now, out of -his insolent, oily black eyes, as if she were really a -troublesome child. For a moment anger choked her -voice and she half expected Gloria to speak for her, -but Gloria was still looking at Aglipogue, the strange -trance-like expression in her eyes, and Ruth became -calm. If Prince Aglipogue chose to be rude she -could be impervious to rudeness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m not trying to make the morning classes any -more, Prince Aglipogue, so I can stay up as long -as I like, but perhaps you’re tired of singing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was Aglipogue who looked at Gloria now as -if he expected her to send Ruth away, but she said -nothing, sitting quite still with her long hands folded -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>in her lap, a most uncharacteristic pose, and a faint -smile on her lips. She seemed to have forgotten -both of them. It seemed incredible that less than -five minutes before Ruth had seen her bend her head -to meet the lips of the fat singer—incredible and -horrible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I’m tired—of singing,” said Aglipogue -after a pause. He rose and lifted one of Gloria’s -lovely hands and kissed it. Simultaneously George -appeared at the door with his hat and stick. It -seemed to Ruth that under his air of great deference -and humility George was sneering at the Prince. -Gloria, seemingly only half roused from her trance -or reverie, rose also in farewell and seemed to -struggle to concentrate on her departing guest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tomorrow,” he said, bending again over her -hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, tomorrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He went out without again speaking to Ruth, who -waited breathless until she heard the closing of the -outer door. Gloria watched him disappear, and -then lifted her arms high above her head, stretching -her superb body up to its full length like a great -Persian cat just waking from a nap.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What are you doing up at this hour, Ruth?” -She spoke as if seeing Ruth for the first time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I went to the theatre with Terry, you know, and -then we went to supper afterward and I came in -fifteen minutes ago. I’m not a bit tired.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am, horribly, of everything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>“It’s only Prince Aglipogue who’s been boring -you. No wonder you’re tired of him. If he’d only -sing behind a curtain so that one didn’t have to look -at him, he would be quite lovely,” said Ruth. She -spoke thus with the intention of making Gloria tell -what she really thought of the Prince. Gloria -sank back on her chair by the piano and rested her -chin on her folded hands, her elbows on her knees. -Unlike most large women she seemed able to assume -any attitude she chose without appearing ungraceful.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t like Aggie, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was looking at Ruth now with something of -her normal expression in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t exactly dislike him,” said Ruth. “He’s -all right as a singer or a pianist or a painter, but as -a man he is singularly uninteresting, isn’t he?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He is horribly stupid—I—” Suddenly her expression -changed and she was on her feet again, -walking restlessly up and down the room: “I’m -going to marry him; he’s going to South America on -a concert tour and I’ll go with him—I’m so tired of -everything; I want to get away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Involuntarily Ruth had also risen, bewildered at -the sudden change in Gloria’s manner. Through -the open doorway she could see George standing in -the dimly lighted hall beyond, his red eyes gleaming, -fixed on Gloria’s moving figure. She thought she -understood, at least in part, the reason for the sudden -change and though she was trembling with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>unreasoning fear that assails the bravest in the face -of the mysterious and unknown, she forced herself -to move across the room so that she stood between -George in the hall, and Gloria. She could almost -feel his malignant gaze on her back as she stood in -the doorway, but she did not falter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you do that, Gloria, it will mean that you -can’t work in Terry’s play—It will mean giving up -everything—your career and your income. Does -Prince Aglipogue know that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria paused in her restless walk and looked at -her from beneath her troubled brows.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t care about the career; I’m tired of the -stage, but what difference will the income make? -It’s such a little one, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Still it may make a difference with Aglipogue, -and if you give up your career and your income you -will be dependent on him. That should make a difference -to you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth wondered afterward where she got all this -worldly knowledge and how she was able to say it, -with George’s eyes burning into her back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What a practical child you are; but let’s not -talk about it tonight. I’m awfully tired. We were -going to announce our engagement Christmas Eve, -but there’s no harm in your knowing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria, you can’t—you can’t marry him. He’s -fat and selfish and horrid!” In her excitement she -forgot George and moved to Gloria’s side. “You -don’t know what you’re doing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>Gloria’s eyes looked across her, over her head -and the trance-like look came back into them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When you are as old as I you will know that -physical appearance doesn’t matter much. I don’t -know why I’m marrying Aggie, but it seems to be -happening. So many things happen—I need a -change; I want to travel in a new country. Besides -it’s all fixed—it’s too late now—too late—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She threw off Ruth’s detaining hands and swept -past her through the hall and up the stairway, and -Ruth did not try to follow her. Somewhere beyond -the shadows she knew that George was still standing, -his red eyes gleaming like those of a cat. She waited -a few minutes to give Gloria time to go to her room -and to give him time to retire to his own quarters. -She did not want to pass him in the hall, and when -at last she also went up, she thought she caught the -sounds of suppressed sobs, coming from Gloria’s -room. It would do no good to stop. In two days -more they would be going to the Berkshires and -there either George would win in his curious twisted -plans or she would defeat him. If only she knew -where to find Professor Pendragon. Terry could -not help. He was too modern and practical. He -couldn’t understand, his mind was fresh and clean -and honest and western. If she could see Pendragon -again she would tell him everything and he -might help. She decided to telephone his hotel in -the morning and find out, if possible, just where he -had gone.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>When Ruth telephoned Professor Pendragon’s -hotel she found that he had not -left any address and would not be expected -back before the first of the year. Her next thought -was of Nels Zord. He might know, but much to -her surprise she did not see Nels at the League, and -sought out Dorothy instead. She found her easily -enough, but it was not until she had asked about -Nels that she observed that Dorothy’s eyes were red -and her cheeks swollen as if from recent weeping. -It was luncheon time and they were walking toward -their restaurant together.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know where Nels is,” said Dorothy. -Her voice was almost a sob.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Haven’t you seen him today?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I never see him any more—haven’t you seen? -He’s too busy with that Alice Winn girl. Oh, you -know her, Ruth, the insipid creature with the carefully -nurtured southern accent, who always has some -highbrow Russian or Swedish book under her arm, -and begins reading it every time she thinks a man is -looking.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I know the one you mean, but what about -her and why is Nels busy with her and why have you -been crying? You <i>have</i> been crying.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>“I suppose I have; it’s most unmanly of me, but -I must do something. All men you know are irresistibly -attracted to the weakest, cheapest sort of -women. They all prefer sham to reality, and they -are all snobs at heart.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid I don’t know much about men,” admitted -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I’m telling you about them now. You -might as well know. And the better a man is the -more he likes imitation women, and Nels is just as -bad as any of them, and that’s why he’s fallen so -hard for Alice Winn. First he fell for the highbrow -books. He really believes that she reads ’em. -Then she told him all about her aristocratic family -in Kentucky, who fought and fought to keep her -from being an artist, but she must ‘live her own -life,’ even if she had to brave the hardships of a -great city with not a thing to live on except the income -she gets from home. And then, of course, she -scorns everything except real art—she would never -stoop to a fashion drawing or commercial art of any -kind. Her artistic temperament would not allow it. -She is working on a mural—yes, indeed—of course -it never has and never will go any further than a -rough sketch and a lot of conversation in her comfortable -studio, but Nels doesn’t know that. He and -every other man she talks to believes that she is -really working on something big. And then she is -<i>such</i> a lover of beauty. She must have flowers in -her studio at all times. She simply couldn’t live -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>without flowers. And Nels—Nels who never -bought me even a bunch of violets at Easter time—is -pawning his clothes to buy her roses. I think -that’s what hurts most. I’m just a practical old -thing, and I’ve never wanted to do anything at all -but work with him and for him, and go to dinner -with him ‘Dutch’—and so you see I am of no value—and -she, who has never done a useful thing in her -whole life, has completely fascinated him. He isn’t -worth all this. I ought not to care—I don’t care—I’m -just plain angry.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Tears were overflowing the blue eyes of the -“just plain angry” girl and Ruth feared a public -exhibition. They had reached the restaurant and -she feared the curious eyes inside.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s not eat here today, Dorothy. You need -a change, that’s all, so why not take the afternoon -off? We could go to your studio. I’ve never been -there, you know. Couldn’t we have lunch there?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We could buy it at the ‘delly’ ’round the corner,” -said Dorothy, her round face clearing a bit.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And let’s buy some flowers first; if Nels shows -up we can pretend a man sent them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s ‘woman stuff’; I don’t think I ought—but—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just for this once,” persisted Ruth, leading the -way into the nearest flower shop.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t like to have you spend money on me. -I don’t like to have anything that I can’t pay for -myself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>“That’s selfish, and vain. Perhaps that’s why -Nels is with Alice.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose so. You know they’re so stupid, men. -They believe everything you tell them. I’ve told -Nels what a practical worker I am and how independent -I am and he believes me, without ever trying -to prove it; and she’s told him that she is an -impractical, artistic dreamer and he believes that, -too, though if he’d only think for just a minute he’d -know that she’s a mercenary schemer, not an artistic -dreamer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you like these pink ones?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, and those unusual pale yellow roses—the -combination is wonderful, and the scent.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She buried her nose in the flowers in an ecstasy -of delight that made her forget that Ruth was paying -for them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now we’ll ride down on the ’bus,” said Ruth. -“But you haven’t told me just where Nels is—is -Alice Winn pretty?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Questions of this sort are perfectly intelligible to -women and Dorothy answered in her own way as -they climbed into the Fifth Avenue ’bus.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s gone with her to the Met—to look over -some costumes she wants to use in this mural she’s -supposed to be doing; and of course she is pretty—an -anæmic, horrid, little dark-skinned vamp—and -she lisps—all the time except when she forgets it -or when there aren’t any men around. It’s not nice -for me to talk like this. Probably she’s all right, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>only she isn’t good for Nels. I know that. What -I’m afraid of is that she’ll use him. Lots of girls -do, you know, use men like that. She’ll ask his advice -about things and before he knows it he’ll be -painting her old mural for her and she’ll sign it, and -he’ll sit back and let her get the credit for doing it. -It’s been done before, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nels is too sensible for that. He’ll wake up -before it’s gone that far.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think so; she <i>is</i> attractive to men.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They fell silent for a short space, looking out at -the grey December streets on which no snow had yet -fallen. Now a thin, cold rain began falling, making -the pavements glisten, and giving even well-dressed -pedestrians a shabby appearance as they hurried up -and down—a thick stream of holiday shoppers.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My room isn’t much, but at least I live on -Washington Square and that is something,” said -Dorothy. “I love it all the year round, even now -when there aren’t any leaves on the trees or any -Italian children playing and when this beastly rain -falls. I rather like rain anyway, but I’m awfully -glad we’ve got the roses. We’ll get off here and -walk around to the ‘delly’ first. It’s on Bleecker -Street. I’m not supposed to cook anything in my -room, but of course I do. All of us do.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Their purchases, though guided by the practical -Dorothy, were rather like a college girl’s spread. -Dorothy lived in an old-fashioned white house on -the south side of the square—a house in which every -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>piece of decrepit furniture seemed to have been -dragged from its individual attic and assembled here -in vast inharmony. Yet mingled with the 1830 -atrocities were a few “good” things, left from time -to time by artists and writers whom prosperity had -called to better quarters. Dorothy lived at the top -of the house in one of the two rooms facing the -square.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see it isn’t really a studio,” she explained -apologetically. “But it has got north light and -the sloping room and that bit of skylight makes it -quite satisfactory, and then, too, I face the Square -and can always see the fountain and the Washington -arch and the first green that comes on the trees in -May, and I like it. And just because we’re celebrating -I’ll put a charcoal fire in the grate and we’ll -make tea in the samovar, but first we must take care -of the flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a few minutes she seemed to have forgotten -all her troubles.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do wish I had a pretty vase. It’s almost criminal -to put roses in this old jug. Don’t you think the -samovar’s pretty? Nels did get me that. Wait a -minute; I’ll show you his studio. It’s the next room -to this and just like it. He never locks his door.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stepped out, Ruth following, and pushed open -the only half closed door of a room, the exact -counterpart in size of her own, but rather more -comfortable as to furnishings.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s her picture; she must have given it to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>him last week. I haven’t been in his studio for days -and we used to have such corking times together—I -worked here more often than in my own room and -he always seemed to like having me—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Fearing a return of tears Ruth hastily retreated -to Dorothy’s room. Besides she didn’t feel quite -comfortable about entering a man’s room during -his absence and examining his pictures.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s not think about her; it’s just a phase and -he’ll recover and come back to you,” she comforted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You make the tea and I’ll spread this little -table,” she continued, removing a pile of sketches -to the floor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In a short space of time there was a real fire burning -in the tiny grate, throwing a ruddy glow on the -burnished brass of the samovar; in the small room -the roses shed a heavy sweet perfume and the two -girls chatted cosily over their tea cups. Dorothy -smoked a cigarette.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Cigarettes are a party to me,” she exclaimed. -“If I could afford to smoke I might not care for it -at all, but I can’t, so when I want to be extravagant -I smoke; it’s just a symbol.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now that Dorothy seemed to have put her grief -into the background Ruth was beginning to feel -restless. On the following day the party was to -leave for the Christmas party. They would arrive -at their destination on the twenty-third of December -and the imminence of the solution of all Ruth’s -worries, for either good or evil, made her feel that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>she should be at the house as much as possible. -Could she have done so she would have followed -Gloria wherever she went. Most of all she wanted -to find out where Professor Pendragon was stopping; -and she ought to telephone Terry again to -remind him not to forget the revolver. In her own -mind she was not exactly sure what she would do -with the gun when she got it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I’ll have to run along,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, and we were having such a good time. I -was beginning to be quite cheered up. Wait a -minute; that’s him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Regardless of grammar, Ruth knew that the masculine -pronoun could refer to only one person. -Down three flights of stairs she could hear a tuneless -but valiant whistle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wonder why he’s coming home so soon?” continued -Dorothy. “I’ll shut the door tight so he -won’t see us. I’m not going to make it easy for -him to come back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She closed the door as she spoke and the two girls -waited, trying to keep up a hum of conversation. -Dorothy’s agitation communicated itself to Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will he come here?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know; he always did before, but now, -he may just be coming in to get something and -then dash out again to meet her.” She walked to -the window and looked out:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s no one down there waiting for him.” -She came back to her place at the tiny table.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>The whistle had mounted all three flights now, -and paused a moment before their door. Dorothy -began talking unconcernedly. They heard him enter -his own studio. The whistle was resumed and they -could hear him moving restlessly about. A match -was struck, then another; then silence, then footsteps -and a knock at the door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come in,” called Dorothy, and the door opened, -disclosing a rather shame-faced Nels, who, however, -was determined to appear as if nothing had -happened.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Looks like a party,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is a party,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I hope I’m not intruding—I thought Dorothy -was alone.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We were chattering continuously enough for -any one to hear us,” said Dorothy. “Would you -like a cup of tea?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thanks—I suppose that means, too, that I can -come in and sit down and share your gossip, and -everything,” said Nels, seating himself forthwith -on the couch-bed—not a chaise longue—but an ugly -bed disguised as a couch—without which no cheap -studio or hall bedroom is complete.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Much is written about the “feminine touch” -which makes home of the most ordinary surroundings. -Ruth thought of it as she looked at Dorothy’s -room. Perhaps, she decided, artistic women are an -exception to this rule. Dorothy had knowledge of -beautiful things, more knowledge than the average -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>woman, but no one would have guessed it from the -untidy shabbiness of her studio. Only the bright -samovar and the roses, thrown into relief by the -firelight, which with the same magic threw dusty -corners into shadow and seemed to gild the ugly, -broken-down furniture into beauty, threw a glamour -over the place now and made it seem quite different -from the cheerless room they had entered over an -hour before. The rain was bringing a premature -twilight which made the firelight doubly welcome. -Nels felt the change and looked about him as if in -unfamiliar surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This is certainly cheery,” he said, taking the -cup Dorothy offered him. “And roses!” He looked -inquiringly at Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I’m not the lucky girl; some admirer of -Dorothy’s.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an embarrassed pause. Ruth blushed -because she had told what in childhood she had -called a “white lie”; Dorothy because she accepted -the deception that she would not herself have instigated, -and Nels for many reasons.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Whoever he is he’s not a poor artist,” he said. -“I know the price of roses in December,” whereupon -he blushed more redly in remembrance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought you were going to spend the entire -day at the Metropolitan,” said Dorothy, beginning -to enjoy the situation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So did I,” said Nels, and then with a sudden -burst of resolution, “I don’t mind telling you all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>about it—I’ve been an awful fool, and if you’ve decided -to play with some one else, I don’t blame you. -We walked to the Met this morning; Alice lives way -uptown and I thought it would be a pleasant hike, -but when we got there she was quite worn out, and -then some fellow she knows came along with a car -and offered to take her home and she went; said -the walk had made her too tired to work. Of course -he offered to ‘pick me up,’ too, but I preferred to -walk and I did—all the way from the Metropolitan -to Washington Square—now you know the entire -story and can laugh to your heart’s content.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But neither of the girls laughed. Nels had evidently -learned his lesson, and they were in no mood -to increase his discomfiture.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wanted to see you to ask if you know where -Professor Pendragon went when he left town. He -said some place in the country, but I’ve forgotten -where,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; I got a note from him only this morning. -He’s visiting a friend of his in the Berkshires. North -Adams is the post-office and I’ve forgotten the name -of the house. One of those big country places with -a fancy name—wait and I’ll get the note from my -room.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He believed that about the roses and now that -he’s sane again, my conscience hurts,” whispered -Dorothy when he had left them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let it hurt a bit; I wouldn’t tell him,” whispered -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>“Here it is,” said Nels, returning. “Professor -Percival Pendragon, care of Mr. John Peyton-Russell, -Fir Tree Farm, North Adams, Massachusetts—some -address, but anyway it will reach him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Peyton-Russell—he’s at the Peyton-Russell’s?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know them?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, that is, I know Mrs. Peyton-Russell a bit; -she’s a friend of my aunt’s, and we’re going there -for Christmas—going tomorrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really; that’s splendid, for you can save me -writing a note. I hate writing letters. You see -Pendragon has been trying to interest this Peyton-Russell -in my work. He’s one of these men who’s -spent two-thirds of a lifetime making money, and -now he doesn’t know exactly what to do with it. -He’s only been married about two years. I know -Pendragon hadn’t met his wife, but Mr. Peyton-Russell -depends on Pendragon to tell him when -things are good, and when Professor Pendragon -bought one of my pictures Mr. Peyton-Russell -thought he ought to buy one, too. If you’d just -tell Professor Pendragon that I don’t care what he -pays for the picture he has—I let him borrow one to -see whether he grew tired of it after it was hung—you’ll -save me a lot of trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course; did you say Professor Pendragon -hasn’t met Mrs. Peyton-Russell?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He hadn’t; but I suppose he has now that he’s -a guest in her house. John Peyton-Russell used to -try to get him out to dinner in town, but Pen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>wouldn’t go; he hates society. But he was ill, you -know, and Peyton-Russell was so anxious to do -something for him, and promised that it would be -quiet—no one out there, and the doctor seemed to -think it might be good—he took the nurse along, of -course, so Pen went.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did he say how he was getting on, in his last -letter?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; just the same, no better and no worse, but -didn’t say anything about coming back at once. -You’re more interested than Dot.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; only it seems strange, a coincidence, his -being at the same house we’re going to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“While you’re delivering messages for Nels, deliver -one for me too, Ruth,” said Dorothy. “Tell -him I’m waiting very patiently to make that portrait -and that when it’s finished if he wants to sell -it to his rich collectors he can. What is he, Nels, a -sort of dealer?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My word, no—he’s a—just a man who happens -to have a little money and a lot of appreciation. -He’s just helping me to success, and helping Peyton-Russell -to a reputation as a collector—he is quite -disinterested. He could be anything, that man. I -don’t know why he isn’t. Something went wrong -some place along his route, I guess, and he just got -side-tracked, you understand.” He finished with a -wave of his hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now I really must go—one must do a few -things even before a short journey.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>Ruth was more anxious than ever to get away -now, and neither Nels nor Dorothy made any great -effort to keep her. Nels was looking at the roses -with sad eyes and Dorothy was looking at him with -eyes that made Ruth fear that the secret of the -flowers would not be kept long. Dorothy was too -generous and honest to want to keep up even so tiny -a deception.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The one stupendous fact that stood out in her -brain as she walked homeward was that Gloria and -Professor Pendragon would meet. What would -they do? Would Pendragon leave or would Gloria -come back to town? What would they say to each -other? How amazing that Mr. Peyton-Russell -should be a friend of Pendragon’s and that Angela -should be a friend of Gloria’s and that they had -never before all met. Still it was understandable. -Angela had only been married a year. George -would be there, too, and Prince Aglipogue.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She thought of Pendragon’s tall, clean-cut figure -and fine face, and of Aglipogue’s heavy countenance -and elephantine form—the contrast. Surely Gloria -would see and withdraw before too late. It would -be, too, the time of test—the dark of the moon.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>It had been planned that they would all take the -morning train together for North Adams, -Gloria and Ruth, Terry and Prince Aglipogue -and George, but Gloria, despite her motion picture -experience, proved unequal to the early rising.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s no use,” she explained to Ruth, who went -to her room to wake her. “I simply can’t get up -this early in the morning. You go on and meet -Aggie and Terry at the station and tell them that -I’m coming up on the sleeper tonight. Tell George -to go along, too, just as he planned. He’s got his -ticket and will take care of your luggage and the -others’, and everything will go just as we planned -it except that I’ll show up tomorrow morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Suppose there isn’t any sleeping train?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There will be; anyway as far as Pittsfield. Do -go down and tell George and explain to Angela -when you get there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>What the trip would have been had Gloria not -decided to wait for the night train, Ruth could not -guess. What it was was most unexpected. George, -being first told, was the first person to show sulky -displeasure at Gloria’s decision. For a moment -Ruth thought that he was actually going to knock -on Gloria’s door and remonstrate with her, but even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>George dared not do that, so instead he preceded -Ruth to the station, heavily laden with boxes and -bags. He was there when she arrived, as was also -Terry, who laughed without any apparent regret at -Gloria’s revolt.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I rather hated to get up myself,” he said, “but -a holiday is a holiday, and it’s part of the game to -climb out of bed from one to ten hours earlier than -usual. Besides, think how tired we’ll be tonight -and what wonderful sleep we’ll get up there in the -fresh air. There’ll be lots of snow, too. A few -flakes fell here this morning, and that means that up -in the mountains it will be thick and wonderful. I -only hope it won’t be too cold.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here comes Prince Aglipogue,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Prince was approaching, his great bulk -thrusting aside the lesser human atoms in the station. -Ruth was amazed to see that his curious travelling -costume was finished by a top hat and wondered -whether he would wear it in the train and in the -sleigh from North Adams. Over the collar of his -fur-lined overcoat his huge face rose, placid and self-satisfied, -until he spied the waiting group with Gloria -not among them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Has she not yet come?” he asked. “The time -of the train is immediate; we will miss it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria has decided to take the evening train,” -said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I also will wait.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, she especially asked that we all go ahead -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>just as planned. Here’s George to take care of -everything,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did she send to me no personal message?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; just that,” Ruth took pleasure in watching -his face, like a cloud-flecked moon, in its annoyance. -“We were all to go ahead and explain to Mrs. Peyton-Russell -that Gloria will arrive in the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Just then the gate was opened and Prince Aglipogue, -still frowning, followed them reluctantly -through it, in front of George and the two porters, -who were helping him carry travelling bags.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When they were all comfortably disposed in their -seats Ruth began to fear that it would be rather an -unpleasant journey, for Prince Aglipogue, unhappy -himself, was determined that the others should be, -too, if he could make them so.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Only the amused light in Terry’s eyes gave her -courage. Prince Aglipogue began with a monologue -about rotten trains, stupid country houses, beastly -cold and the improbability of Gloria’s coming at all, -and finally worked himself up into a state of agitation -bordering on tears, which would have made -Ruth laugh had she not been afraid.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is unkind of her to leave us this way. For -herself she sleeps comfortably at home, while I rise -at this unchristian hour for her sake,” he protested, -more to himself than to the others, for he seemed -determined to ignore them. His next phase was one -of annoyance at his own discomfort.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Why had not the Peyton-Russells themselves provided -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>a drawing-room for him? They were -“filthy” with money, and he was not accustomed to -travelling in this public manner in spite of the fact -that he was only a poor artist. Then he became -worried about his luggage, which had consisted of -a single dressing-case. He had entrusted it to -George, and who knew what had become of it? He -lurched off in search of George some place in the -rear cars to find out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’d buy him a drawing-room just to get rid of -him, if there was any graceful way of doing it,” said -Terry. “I’m afraid this is not going to be the -pleasantest of parties.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For more reasons than one,” said Ruth. “I -discovered yesterday that Professor Pendragon is -already a guest of the Peyton-Russells. What will -happen when Gloria arrives and they meet? Ought -I to tell him, do you think, that she’s coming?” She -had been thinking of nothing else since her talk with -Nels and was delighted to have an opportunity to -tell some one.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This is going to be fun! How do you know, -and why do you suppose Angela Peyton-Russell is -doing it—some idea of bringing them together -again?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t see any fun in it with that beast Aglipogue -along. And Angela didn’t know—at least, -I’m quite sure she didn’t, and doesn’t. Professor -Pendragon is a friend of Mr. Peyton-Russell and -had never met his wife, and I don’t think Angela -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>was going to the house many days before her guests. -Mr. Peyton-Russell asked Professor Pendragon -there because they’re old friends and Pendragon was -ill. He thought the air and quiet would be good -for him. He took a nurse along. I only learned -yesterday from Nels Zord. Unless Angela has -mentioned the names of all her guests, it’s possible -that Professor Pendragon doesn’t know she’s coming. -It’s going to be awfully awkward—meeting -that way. I suppose one of them will return to New -York. Perhaps he would if we warned him. Do -you think I ought?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You didn’t warn Gloria, and you had time for -that; I don’t see why you should warn her ex-husband. -Besides, it isn’t such an awful thing. Ex-husbands -and wives meet every day in New York -and don’t seem to mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In a way I suppose I didn’t tell Gloria because -she told me not to mention his name again, and besides -I’d like to have her meet him, providing she -didn’t make a scene. If she saw him again I don’t -think she could go on with the Prince.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think she really is going to marry him?” -asked Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course she is, unless you or some one stops -her; I don’t see how you can stand by quietly and -see it done.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s no affair—here he comes now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Their conversation, thus broken off by the reappearance -of Prince Aglipogue, they turned to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>scenery outside, while their heavy companion, turning -his back upon them as much as possible, pretended -to read a magazine. The snow that had -been falling in thin flakes in New York was coming -down in great, feathery “blobs,” as Terry descriptively -called them. At first they did not see any -hills, but the movement of the train and the stertorous -puffing of the engine told them that they were -going steadily upgrade. Now the ground was -entirely covered with snow, and the train twisted so -continuously around the hills that sometimes they -could see the engine curving in front of them, -through the window.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If the snow continues like this, I’m afraid we’ll -be many hours late,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It won’t matter much. We’re to be there at -two o’clock, and we couldn’t be delayed more than -a few hours at most, could we?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are pleased to be cheerful,” said the Prince. -Evidently he had not been so deeply engaged with -his magazine as he pretended. “If I am forced on -this train to remain a moment longer than is necessary -I shall perish.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They do get snow bound, sometimes, you -know,” said Terry cheerfully. “It won’t be so -bad if we’re near some town. We can just get off -and spend the night in an hotel.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At this the Prince only glared.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That would be an adventure—I think I’d rather -like it,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>As if he could bear no more the Prince again -departed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Presently he’ll come back, saying that the air -in the smoking car has made his head ache.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you want to go yourself for a smoke? -You know you mustn’t think you have to stay here -and amuse me,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can live ever so long without a cigarette. -Besides I’d rather go when he isn’t there. I’ve been -thinking about Gloria. Do you suppose she could -have found out about Pendragon and isn’t coming? -It would be like her. She could telephone that she’s -ill or something.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think so, but of course I don’t know. I -don’t know anything. Perhaps Pendragon himself -has left and all my worry is for nothing. Who’d -ever think an aunt could be such a responsibility?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She said it so seriously and with such a wistful -look that Terry restrained his impulse to laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“An aunt is almost as difficult to chaperon as a -modern mother,” he admitted gravely; “but if the -snow doesn’t stop snowing she may arrive as soon -as we do, and you’ll not have to decide whether to -warn the professor or not. After all, it’s no affair -of yours. If they’re to meet this way they will meet -this way, and it may be rather amusing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was difficult to answer him when he talked -like that. Probably his words were prompted by -bitterness, but it was maddening to have him sit -back as if he were helpless to do anything. If only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>he would make an effort he could win Gloria away -from her present course. He was attractive enough -to win any woman. Whether he talked or sat silent, -it was good to be with him. Then she remembered -the gift he had promised her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, you’ve forgotten! I was afraid you -would.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I haven’t. You mean the revolver, but I -thought it was to be a Christmas gift.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was—only I’d like to have it now if you don’t -mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What are you afraid of—train robbers? This -isn’t a western movie in spite of the wild nature -of our journey.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know, but please let me have it. You don’t -know what a comfort it would be just to look at it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“All right; just to show you how much I thought -of it I didn’t pack it at all. It’s here in my overcoat.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>An eager porter anticipated his movement to -reach up to the rack on which the coat had been put, -and brought it down for him, and he reached inside -the pocket and brought out a box which he put in -her hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment she did not open it, though he -waited, smiling. She was conscious of the movement -of the train, of the white flakes flashing past -the window, half obscuring the rolling, tree-crowned -hills that were fast merging into mountains; of the -smell of the Pullman car,—a combination of steam-heated -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>varnish and dusty upholstery—and most of -all of Terry, seated opposite her, a half eager, half -amused light dancing in his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s rather an odd gift to give a woman,” he -said as she hesitated. She opened the box now, -realizing herself more than anything else, as the -central figure in a little drama. Inside she found -a leather case—pale blue leather, more fit to contain -jewels than a weapon of defence, and inside that the -tiniest revolver she had ever seen, an exquisite thing -with gold mountings.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will—will it really shoot?” she gasped. “And -it must have been horribly expensive—you shouldn’t -have done it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her pleasure was so apparent in her face that -her words, which she felt were ill chosen, did not -really matter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course it will shoot; and it’s loaded now, so -please do be careful. Here, I’ll show you how it -works—see, you open it this way, and here’s the -way to empty the shells out—you see there are six—this -revolves so that when you’ve shot one the -next one moves into place all ready; it’s quite as -deadly as a big one, I assure you. Do you think -you’ll feel quite safe with this?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t myself I want to protect,” she answered, -and just then, she saw Prince Aglipogue returning, -and some instinct prompted her to take the gun -from his hands and put it back in its case and conceal -it behind her. She need not have concealed it, for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>Prince Aglipogue was in no mood to observe details. -His oily, black eyes were standing out in his -head and his face had turned a sickly green. His -three chins seemed to be trembling with fright.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That nigger of Gloria’s; he’s in the baggage -car with a snake—a snake as big as”—he threw out -his fat arms as if he could think of no word to -describe the size of the snake. His voice was a -thin whisper. “You must the conductor tell—it is -not allowed. They do not know the trunk’s contents—I -tell you I am speaking truth—a snake—as -big as the engine—will you do nothing?” He -grasped Terry’s shoulder and shook him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s all right. We know all about it. Miss -Mayfield knew he was bringing it. He uses it in -his vaudeville stunts.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I tell you I will not go on—to travel with a -snake—it is horrible.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s always had it,” soothed Terry. “It was -in the house on Gramercy Square and never came out -and bit any one. I guess you’re safe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If I had known——” He shuddered through -all his fat frame and rolled his eyes upward.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How is he taking it?” asked Terry. “It’s bad -enough to travel with a pet dog, but what one does -with a pet snake I don’t know, and I’ve been -curious.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Prince Aglipogue, frightened into friendliness, -broke into a torrent of words from which they gathered -that George had the snake in a trunk, the sides -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>of which were warmed by electricity; that the train -officials had no idea of the contents of the trunk, -that George had gained access to the baggage car -though it was against the rules, and that the Prince, -being still worried about his luggage, though he had -seen it safely aboard, had claimed the right to follow -him there and had found George kneeling beside the -opened trunk, from which the snake, artificially -warmed to activity, was rearing a head which the -Prince protested was as large as that of a cow. As -he saw that his hearers were unmoved and that they -had known about the snake and seemed to consider -it quite ordinary, he was a bit ashamed of his agitation, -though by no means convinced that there was -no cause for it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s a harmless variety,” Terry assured him. “If -it were dangerous Gloria wouldn’t have allowed -George to keep it in the house.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For the bite, yes; it may be of no harm, but the -shock to the nerves! I should have been warned.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We didn’t know that you were going into the -baggage car,” protested Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What a terrible journey—look at the snow,” -said the Prince, sinking into his seat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They looked out. The movement of the train -exaggerated the whirling of the snow until it seemed -like a frozen, white whirlwind, sweeping past them, -or a drove of wild, white horses whose manes -brushed the window panes. Beyond the whirling -drift they could see nothing.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>Terry looked at his watch. Down the aisle Ruth -heard a man asking how late they were, but could -not catch the answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s have something to eat; even if we’re on -time, we won’t want to wait luncheon until our arrival. -A twelve-mile drive through this doesn’t -sound very alluring, and we may die of starvation -on the way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry’s glance included both Ruth and Prince -Aglipogue.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Food I cannot face after what I have witnessed,” -said the Prince. “Perhaps I may have -something—a cup of tea—something to keep up my—what -did you say—two hours late?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He clutched the arm of a passing conductor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, sir; two hours late now—only two hours,” -he answered wearily, freeing his arm and passing on. -Prince Aglipogue sank back in his chair as if he -would never rise again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Cheer up; that’s not bad. What can you expect -with this snow? Two hours only means that we’ll -arrive about five o’clock and get to Fir Tree Lodge—I -think that’s what they call it—in time for dinner. -Better come on and eat with us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Prince Aglipogue shook his huge head sadly, -much to the relief of both Terry and Ruth, and they -walked out together. Ruth was beginning to feel -that she was having an adventure. Something in -the restlessness of the other passengers on the train, -who were beginning to look frequently at watches -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>and to stop the train officials every time they appeared, -something in the sight of the whirling clouds -of snow, the thought of George, some place back -there with his strange travelling companion, all contributed -to the undercurrent of excitement, and with -it was that comforting feeling of security that always -comes from looking at storm and snow from a place -of warmth and shelter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Because it was the holiday season the train was -crowded and they were compelled to wait in the -narrow hallway with other people in line before -they could get a table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Isn’t it wonderful and Christmasy?” she -asked, “especially as I’ve already got one gift; see, -I brought it with me. I’d like to look at it again, -only I’m afraid if any of the other passengers saw -it they might suspect me of being a train robber.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; you look so much like one. But perhaps -it would be just as well not to look at it now. I’m -glad you like it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s beautiful, and somehow I feel safer—I -mean safer and happier about Gloria now that I -have it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s a curious gift to give a girl, but I couldn’t -exactly imagine giving you—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Table for two,” interrupted the steward. Ruth -wondered what it was that Terry couldn’t imagine -giving her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Luncheon was like a party. Terry seemed to be -making as much effort to amuse her as he would -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>have made for Gloria, or perhaps he was so charming -that he couldn’t help being charming all the time, -she reflected. He had the most wonderful eyes in -the world, and the kindest, strongest mouth, but she -must stop looking at them. Still just for today she -might pretend that he was her lover and that they -were engaged, and—why not pretend that they were -actually married and on their wedding journey? -The thought made her gasp.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is something wrong? I’ll call the waiter.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, nothing! I was just thinking—of something.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Something nice, I hope.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, no—I don’t know.” It was horrible to -blush like that. If she were only older and poised -and sophisticated. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have -to be pretending. But she would pretend, no matter -how bold and unladylike it was to pretend such -things and perhaps she would never be with him -again in just this way, and it would be nice to -remember.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In her reckless mood she surprised herself by saying -things like Gloria sometimes. They lingered as -long as they dared because it was such a good way -of killing time, and when they had finished she made -Terry go back to the smoker.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They ought to have smoking cars for women,” -she said. It was what Gloria might have said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you don’t smoke,” said Terry, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know, but I shall learn.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>“Not right away, I hope,” he said, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth found that Prince Aglipogue had controlled -his nervous shock to the extent of having a very substantial -lunch brought to him, which he seemed to be -enjoying as much as if snakes had never been -created, but he showed no more disposition to be -sociable than before, for which Ruth was grateful. -It would have spoiled her illusion that she and Terry -were travelling alone together. Even she did not -think he was gone long. He came back looking -rather sober.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Would you be very much frightened if we didn’t -reach North Adams tonight at all?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, not frightened; but why?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It looks as though we couldn’t go much farther. -We may have to stop. You can see how slowly -we’re moving now. If they can get to the next -station we can all stop at an hotel, but if not we -may have to sit up all night.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think it’ll be rather fun—only won’t Angela -Peyton-Russell be worried?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’ll probably have telephoned the station at -North Adams and will know that we’re late. Gloria -was wise. The track may be clear by the time her -train leaves and she’ll arrive as soon as we.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I won’t have to decide about warning Professor -Pendragon. He’ll learn the news less gently.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He may have left,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know whether to wish that he has or -has not,” said Ruth. She could not bear the thought -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>of Gloria’s marrying Prince Aglipogue, but every -hour it seemed to grow more difficult to entertain -the thought of her marrying Terry. Of course it -wasn’t absolutely necessary for her to marry any -one, but she must be in a marrying mood, or she -wouldn’t think of Aglipogue, and she’d done it so -often before that it ought to be easier every time. -If only she could ask Terry what he thought, but -of course she couldn’t do that.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Prince Aglipogue had heard Terry’s first words -and had lumbered off to secure the first-hand information. -All the other men in the coach seemed -to be doing the same thing. The snow had brought -on a premature darkness and the lights were lit so -that now they could see nothing outside. One could -almost feel the struggles of the engine, which seemed -to grow greater and greater as the speed of the train -grew less. Finally it stopped altogether with a -sound of grinding wheels. The conductor told them -not to be alarmed. It was nothing but a few hours’ -delay. A steam plough was already on its way. It -was impossible to say how long.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a few minutes the passengers all talked to -each other. Some of the men thought that if they -could reach the road they might hail a passing sleigh -that might convey some of them to the nearest town, -but the road was half a mile away and there would -be few vehicles abroad in such a storm, and the idea -was abandoned. Terry went back to see how -George was faring, and reported him still in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>baggage car, sleeping on the trunk which doubtless -contained “the daughter of Shiva.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>People settled down to waiting; some of them -read, and others slept, among them Prince Aglipogue. -He snored unrebuked. Ruth heard a man -inviting Terry to a poker game in the smoking car -and was relieved when he refused. It would have -been lonely without him. She tried to read, but the -car was growing steadily colder. Terry insisted that -she put on her cloak, but even that didn’t help much, -when she was stiff with inaction. She tried to read, -and finally curled up in the chair to sleep. Her last -conscious thought was a protest when she felt rather -than saw Terry wrapping his cloak around her.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth awakened to the sound of grinding -brakes and opened her eyes to look into the -eyes of Terry, which seemed very near as he -bent over her. Her muscles were horribly cramped. -She did not fully remember until he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll be on our way in less than an hour, and -if you want some coffee you’d better hurry. The -train was only prepared for one meal, but there is -some coffee and perhaps a piece of toast, if we get -there before the hungry mob has finished it,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You gave me your coat,” she said, looking down -at the garment that was wrapped about her. “You -shouldn’t have done that; I had my own, and you -must have frozen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not at all; I’ve slept beautifully. Did it keep -you warm?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, but—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s all that counts; come on and get some -coffee.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t I even wait to wash my face, or shall I -wash it afterward, cat fashion?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If it’s really necessary, you may; but you look -remarkably clean and fresh considering—a few -grains of dust, perhaps—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>He looked at her with his head on one side, -smiling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was on her feet in an instant, but discovering -that one foot was asleep, did not make such swift -progress as she had expected. There were two -other women in the dressing-room. Yesterday they -would have looked at her as silently and impersonally -as at the mirror or the wash basin or the black -“prop” comb that is always found in Pullman -dressing-rooms and that no one has ever been known -to use, but now they were talking to her and to each -other. The stout lady who was going home from a -day’s Christmas shopping in New York was most -voluble. She was worried about her husband and -children, especially her husband.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What I’ll ever say to Henry, I don’t know. He -told me that I could do just as well in Pittsfield as -in New York. They have everything there, and -such accommodating sales people—not like New -York, where every one is too busy to be polite—and -I didn’t get a thing I went after—and then this horrible -experience. It’s added ten years to my life—I -know it has.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“After all, it was only a delay,” comforted Ruth. -“Suppose the train had been wrecked. I think it -was rather fun.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fun! Fun!” the tall thin woman fairly -shrieked at her, and the eyebrow pencil she was -using slipped and made a long mark down her nose -that she had to rub off subsequently with cold cream, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>producing a fine, high polish, which in turn had to -be removed with powder, so thickly applied that -Ruth thought she looked as if her nose was made of -plaster of Paris and had been fastened on after the -rest of her face was finished. It was difficult to do -anything in the tiny crowded space, but she finally -completed a hasty toilet and hurried out to rejoin -Terry, who, in her absence, had secured two cups of -coffee and some toast and brought them to their -seats in the Pullman.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where’s the Prince?” she asked suddenly, remembering -his unwelcome existence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In the dining-car; he got there early and -managed to secure what little food there was -aboard.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria’s train is right behind us,” he continued, -“so we’ll wait for her at the station and all go up -together.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The increasing warmth in the train was beginning -to clear the frosted windows, and Ruth could see -that the snow had stopped falling. A wonderful -pink glow was resting on top of the softly rounded -mountains, and where the clouds were herded between -two high crests it looked like a rose-coloured -lake with fir trees on its banks. She forgot her -uncomfortable night and felt new-born like the sun. -Everything was simple and easy. Everything would -be solved; Gloria would not marry Prince Aglipogue. -She certainly would not, for he came in -now, unshaved, with bloodshot eyes and rumpled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>linen. He did not speak at all, but slumped in -his chair, his chins resting on his bulging shirt -bosom.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you seen George?” she asked Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; he’s all right. I only hope the daughter -of Shiva froze to death, but I fear not.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will it be long now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll be into North Adams in less than an -hour.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid you didn’t get any sleep at all,” said -Ruth, observing that his eyes looked tired.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do I look as badly as that?” he parried. -“Never mind, wait until we reach Fir Tree Farm -and I’ve had a mug of hot Scotch.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What’s hot Scotch?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s something that no one would think of drinking -at any time except the Christmas holiday—and -the only thing that it seems quite correct to drink on -a Christmas holiday, especially in a country house. -It’s hot, and sweet and full of Captain Kidd’s own -brand of rum, and spice, and—oh, ever so many -things. You’ll see.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps Gloria won’t let me drink it,” said -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t ask her—from now on you must ask me—and -if I say you may, it’s all right.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Haven’t I tucked you in and watched over you -like a mother?” said Terry. “That gives me the -right to say yes and no about things. I shall explain -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>my new position just as soon as the stately Gloria -steps off the train.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This is North Adams; I heard a man say -so—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; we’re here. I wonder if there’s food in -the station. I’m starving already.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was not food at the station, but there was -a huge sleigh drawn by two powerful horses, with -bells on their harness that tinkled merrily in the -sharp air, and a man from Fir Tree Farm. Inquiry -revealed the fact that Gloria’s train would be in -within fifteen minutes and Terry told the man to -wait. Meantime George appeared, looking as calm -and imperturbable as if he had just stepped out of -the house on Gramercy Square. They all sat on -hard benches in the railway station, or looking -through the soiled windows at other passengers driving -gaily off to their homes—and breakfast, as Terry -said quite wistfully. Prince Aglipogue paced up -and down in melancholy silence. Ruth could imagine -that he was preparing dignified reproaches to hurl -at the auburn head of Gloria. Her train came in -finally and she stepped off swathed in furs, exhaling -the perfume of violets, followed by respectful -porters and greeted by George, who took possession -of everything, before the vicarious servitors quite -knew what was happening.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria looked so fresh and beautiful, so perfectly -groomed and so rested, that they all felt shabbier -than ever and more dishevelled. They made a rush -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>for her, and when George had stepped aside she -greeted them with bright smiles.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Hello, people. You see I was right! What a -wonderful morning! Hello, Aggie—you look as if -you’d been in a wreck, and Ruth and Terry as if -they’d been, oh, on an adventure. I actually believe -you liked it. What did you sleep on?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It has been a terrible experience,” Prince Aglipogue -began, trying to look reproachful, but only -succeeding in looking ridiculous. He could get no -further in his speech, for Ruth and Terry were both -talking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We did enjoy it; wish you’d been along.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We slept in our chairs, at least I did, but I don’t -believe Terry slept at all. You look gorgeous, -Gloria—there’s a sleigh out there with bells on.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come on, then; I’m famished. Didn’t you get -up in time for breakfast even if there’d been any to -get? Have you eaten?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; only a cup of coffee—very bad, too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They followed George, all talking at once, and -piled into the sleigh. There was straw on the bottom -and many fur robes, the heaviest of which Aglipogue -managed to collect for himself and Gloria, -who were in the back of the sleigh. Ruth would -have loved to sit in front with the driver, but, of -course, George had to sit there.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My word, why did you wear that?” Gloria -burst into peals of laughter, and lifted the silk hat -from the head of Prince Aglipogue.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>“Naturally I supposed that the millionaires, your -friends, would send a conveyance suitable—an enclosed -car. How was I to know—straw, farm -horses?” He almost snorted in his disgust.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’re so funny, Aggie! Don’t you know there -isn’t a motor built that could drive through these -mountains in winter time? We’re lucky that the -sleigh can make it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth noted with horror that in her laughter there -was a tender note as if she were talking to an attractive, -big boy. Instinctively she turned to look -at George’s straight back, and long, narrow head. -It seemed to her that his ears were visibly listening.</p> - -<p class='c007'>From somewhere Terry produced a long, knitted -scarf, and this Gloria tied around the Prince’s head, -laying his hat tenderly down in the middle of the -sleigh. He looked like a huge, ugly boy with mumps, -Ruth thought, and Gloria, whose sense of humour -even her Titania-like love could not quite quench, -burst into renewed peals of laughter. Perhaps he’ll -get angry and break his engagement, Ruth thought, -hopefully, but his resentment seemed to be at things -in general rather than at Gloria.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were really very comfortable in spite of -the keen wind and the country round them was -magnificent, hill melting into hill in endless procession -like the waves on a limitless ocean. The sky -was a vivid blue and the rich green of the fir and -hemlock trees shone warm in contrast to the white -snow. The clear ringing of the bells on the horses -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>seemed like fairy music leading them over the hills -and far away to some tremendous adventure. Just -what that adventure would be Ruth could not guess, -but she knew that Gloria would be its heroine and -George the villain. As for Prince Aglipogue, with -his fat face swathed in the scarf, she would concede -him no other rôle than that of buffoon. The hero? -Perhaps Professor Pendragon, perhaps Terry, but -she would rather save Terry for another story.</p> - -<p class='c007'>If only she knew whether Professor Pendragon -was still at Fir Tree Lodge. It would have been -easy to ask the driver, who was an inquisitive New -Englander and was making desperate attempts to -talk with George, but, of course, she dared not do -that because of Gloria. After all she was not supposed -to know anything about the guests. That was -Angela Peyton-Russell’s affair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The heavy snow rather helped than impeded their -progress, but they were all rather cold and tremendously -hungry before they reached the gates of Fir -Tree Farm. Then there was a slow pull up to the -top of the hill on which it was built, a huge stone -house, almost hidden in a forest of fir trees.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Prince Aglipogue shuddered when he looked at it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How is it heated?” he asked in tragic tones.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very old-fashioned—no furnace or steam heat—just -fire places like your dear castles in Europe,” -said Gloria, which was not true, but served its purpose -of making him look even more melancholy and -making Gloria laugh again. She was quite the gayest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>person in the party and didn’t even complain of -hunger.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela Peyton-Russell was not at the door to -greet them, but a maidservant and a man servant -were. Angela had read some place that it was not -smart to greet one’s guests in country homes that -way, so she did what she thought was the correct -thing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Though she’s probably watching us from some -point of vantage,” Gloria whispered to Ruth, as they -followed the maid up a wide staircase, at the top of -which she separated them, leading Ruth into what -looked like the most cheerful room in the world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your luggage will be up directly,” she told -Ruth, “and as soon as you can you’re to come down -to breakfast. Mrs. Peyton-Russell has waited it for -you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She left at once, evidently going to attendance on -Gloria, who any servant could see at a glance was -the more important guest of the two. While she -was waiting for her bags Ruth warmed herself before -a wonderful wood fire, in front of which a blue -satin-covered day bed tempted her to further rest. -Through the wide windows the tops of the mountains -that had looked so cold when she was driving to the -house resumed the almost warm beauty that she had -admired on the train. Snow always looks thus, -infinitely attractive when one is safely indoors before -a fire, but rather cold and lonely when one is travelling -through it. She had hardly had time to remove -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>her cloak and hat when a tap at the door announced -her bags, and another maid came in to help her -unpack. Ruth let her stay because she took rather -kindly to being served, an inheritance from her -mother, who came from Virginia, and because she -might, without appearing too curious, learn something -of the other guests.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are there many people here?” she asked. It -sounded rather unsubtle after she had said it, but -the maid was evidently a country girl, not like the -one who had brought her up, who had probably -come from the Peyton-Russell town house, and -she did not seem surprised, but rather glad to -talk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only Mr. and Mrs. Peyton-Russell, and Miss -Mayfield—but you came with her—you’re Miss -Ruth Mayfield? and the foreign prince, and Mr. -Riordan and Professor Pendragon, a poor sick man -who’s been here almost a month, and a Miss Gilchrist, -a singer. Perhaps you know her?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I don’t think so,” said Ruth, almost sorry -she had spoken, for the maid seemed to consider it -an invitation to talk at length.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll be surprised when you meet her, Miss; -she’s that odd—not at all like you other ladies. She -sings beautiful—do you want to change for breakfast? -I wouldn’t if I were you. The breakfast’s -waiting—here, let me smooth your hair—no, I want -it for practice—one day I want to be a lady’s maid—a -personal maid.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>She laid great stress on the first syllable of the -word personal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They say some of these personal maids in big -houses gets lovely tips—not that I want tips; I’m -glad to serve some people, but a working girl’s got -to take care of herself. If they was all like Miss -Gilchrist life <i>would</i> be hard.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had a curious way of talking, with a rising -and falling inflection, stressing unexpected words and -syllables, so that in listening to her voice Ruth -scarcely heard her words and forgot that she ought -not to encourage servant’s gossip.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’s terrible homely for one thing, and I think -looking at herself in the mirror has soured her disposition. -She wears her hair short, and at first I -thought it was toifide fever. You should seen her -glare at me when I ast. You better run right down; -I’ll finish unpacking for you. You look too sweet; -clothes ain’t everything.” With which doubtful -compliment ringing in her ears, Ruth passed out, but -instead of “running right down” she knocked at -Gloria’s door. She had the feeling that if they -were to walk down and meet Professor Pendragon -face to face she wanted to be with Gloria. She had -a vague fear that Gloria might faint, and she wanted -to be there to bear her up. Gloria was herself all -ready for descent, but she had changed her travelling -costume for a charming frock. Hunger had doubtless -prompted speed and a theatrical woman’s facility -had aided her. She looked stunning, Ruth thought, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>and her heart swelled with pride at the thought that -at least her Gloria was looking her very best for the -encounter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Afraid to go down alone?” Gloria asked. -“You needn’t be; you’re looking ducky. I hope she -has a millionaire for you to meet, but no such luck. -That would spoil ‘our Bohemian circle.’”. She -mimicked Angela’s gurgling voice perfectly. “I -dare say those hungry brutes of men are waiting -now—if they have the grace to wait, which I doubt; -I could eat almost anything myself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela, having done her conventional duty by not -meeting them at the door, now yielded to her emotions -and ran halfway up the stairs to meet them, -hurling herself into Gloria’s arms and even kissing -Ruth on the cheek to make her feel that she was -welcome and really belonged.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come on, we’re having breakfast in the sun -parlour; it’s the loveliest room in the house. Every -one is waiting. I’ve only two other guests, and I -didn’t tell them who was coming. You’ll be such a -welcome surprise,” she gurgled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We will, indeed,” thought Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This is the library,” she waved her hand at an -enormous room with gloomy furniture, the door of -which was open. “Cosy little place, don’t you -think? But here—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She paused dramatically before she threw open -the door of the sun parlour. She was after all such -a fluffy, good-hearted child that her pride in her possessions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>was no more offensive than the pride of a -child in new toys, and Ruth couldn’t blame her for -being proud of the room they entered. They all -stood at the open door looking at it a moment before -entering—a long, narrow room, evidently running -the full length of the house from north to south, with -two sides of glass, window after window with drawn-back -draperies of amber silk, and between each -window a bird cage, hung above a tall blue vase -filled with cut flowers. At one end of the room the -breakfast table was spread and at the other, where -there were no windows, was a fireplace, round which -the men were standing—Terry, Prince Aglipogue -and John Peyton-Russell. There was a lady seated -there, too, and in another big, wing chair Ruth -thought she could discern the top of Professor Pendragon’s -head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had satisfied Angela with their admiration, -and as they came in the three standing men advanced -to meet them, and the woman turned her -head. Ruth looked at her, and her brain working -by a sort of double process, she had time to compare -her with the maid’s description, even while her heart -was standing still because of the imminent meeting -of Gloria and Professor Pendragon. Miss Gilchrist -did have short hair, not a fluffy mass like -Dorothy Winslow’s, but lank, dank, soiled-brown -locks that framed a lank, soiled-brown countenance. -Her gown also seemed to be of a dusty black, and -Ruth could easily imagine that if her manners were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>no more attractive than her appearance, she would -be quite as disagreeable as the maid described her. -A closer view showed an out-thrust foot in a long, -flat, soiled-brown shoe, and Ruth remembered what -Dorothy had once told her:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Never trust a woman who wears common sense -shoes—there is something radically wrong with her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was being introduced to Mr. Peyton-Russell -now. She had never met him before. He was a -large man who looked as if he took his material -wealth very seriously indeed and thought he owed -some reparation to the public from which he had -extracted it, but he had a heavy cordiality that was -rather charming because it was so obviously sincere.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And now you must meet the others,” chirped -Angela.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth realized for the first time that Angela was -like a yellow canary. The birds, singing gaily in the -sunshine, made the comparison almost compulsory.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll have to come to them, and anyway, I -always have cocktails in front of the fireplace. After -that lone, cold ride, you must need one, though it is -only ten o’clock in the morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They followed her across the long room, Ruth -walking a step behind Gloria, watching her face, -waiting for the moment when she should see around -the high-backed chair. They must have seen him at -the same moment, for Ruth’s heart gave a little -thump and it seemed that Gloria missed a step, her -body swaying just perceptibly for a second, while -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>one hand flew to her throat in a gesture that Ruth -had seen before. Her colour did not change, but with -the sophistication of four months in New York Ruth -knew that Gloria’s colour did not “come and go” -for very good reason. The biggest change was in -her eyes. They seemed to have turned a dark violet -and to have opened wider than Ruth had ever seen -them before, in a fixed stare. They were standing -before him now. In her anxiety about Gloria she -had not thought of him at all. His face was quite -white and he seemed to be nerving himself for some -tremendous ordeal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pardon me for not rising,”—he indicated the -crutches beside his chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Professor Pendragon’s not a bit like a real invalid—one -forgets it the moment one talks to him,” -apologized Angela, rather tactlessly. “He and -John are such good friends that I used to be jealous -of him, and when I heard he was ill I insisted that -John make him come, and do you know, he wanted -to run away before, but I told him what clever people -were coming and made him stay—aren’t you glad -now that you’ve met Gloria Mayfield, and Ruth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Ruth Mayfield and I have met before,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was almost afraid to look at him. There was -in his eyes a look of questioning, almost of reproach. -He had grown thinner and she wondered how Gloria -could be so heartless. Still it wasn’t all Gloria’s -fault. Ruth had seen her dark eyes melt with pity at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>sight of the crutches—pity and a sort of bewildered -fright, but when he spoke as if he had never seen her -before, the soft look faded and her eyes changed -from violet to the coldest grey imaginable, and her -mouth set in a cold line, quite unlike its natural -form.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sure you’ll like our little Bohemian circle,” -she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth wondered how she dared make fun of Angela -that way in her own house. Somehow or other -they had all been presented to Miss Gilchrist, too, -but she proved to be one of those persons one habitually -forgets, and who is perpetually trying to call -back the wandering attention of others, like a friendless -pup rubbing his nose in the hands of strangers, -hoping some place to find a master. Of course Miss -Gilchrist hadn’t that kind of nose, but there was a -pitiful look in her dust-coloured brown eyes that -simply plead for attention. Evidently Terry saw it, -for he was talking to her now, or perhaps he was -only trying to relieve what was an awkward moment -for him as well as for Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The cocktails came and though Ruth had never -seen Gloria drink anything stronger than coffee before -four o’clock in the afternoon, she took this one -in the way that Ruth had sometimes seen men drink, -almost pouring it down. They all moved off to the -breakfast table then, Gloria with John Peyton-Russell, -Angela beside Prince Aglipogue, and Terry -with Miss Gilchrist. Ruth waited while Professor -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>Pendragon picked up his crutches. Evidently he -could get about very well by himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want to see you after breakfast—as soon as -possible,” she whispered to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The enclosed veranda at five o’clock,” he whispered -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She wanted to ask him what and where the enclosed -veranda was, but there was no chance. Every -one was talking at once, it seemed; that is, every one -except Professor Pendragon and herself. She tried -to catch Terry’s eyes, but when she did, he only -lifted one eyebrow as who should say:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see, your anxiety was needless; they are -sophisticated New Yorkers and didn’t mind a -bit.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But they did mind; she knew that. If they -had recognized each other—that would have been -the sophisticated thing to do. Instead they had -taken the romantic course and met as strangers, -though unlike strangers they did not talk to each -other. All around her she could hear snatches of -conversation. Terry seemed to have quite won the -formidable Miss Gilchrist.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; I sing,” she could hear her saying; “but I -prefer poetry to any of the arts.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really?” said Terry politely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; I say that poetry is my chief <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">métier</span>. I -have a poem this month in <cite>Zaneslie’s</cite>.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I must read it,” murmured Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You should hear me recite to really appreciate; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>don’t you think that one is always the best interpreter -of one’s own work?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry nodded understandingly, and then in a voice -that amused Ruth even while she thought it rather -cruel of him to laugh at the serious Miss Gilchrist:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you write rhymed poetry or do you prefer -free verse?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Miss Gilchrist deserted her grape fruit and gave -him her undivided attention.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know, Mr. Riordan, for years I have -written rhymed poetry, but recently, quite recently, -I have felt a definite urge toward the free medium. -I have not relinquished the rhyme, but I am expressing -myself in both forms. The free medium—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her voice went on, and on, but Ruth could not -hear her now because Gloria’s voice, clear and high -like the sleigh bells, rose above everything else for -the moment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; I can’t work in Terry’s play; I’ve decided -never to go back to the stage. I want to travel—South -America, perhaps.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you’re going there on a concert tour, aren’t -you, Prince?” said Angela. “Perhaps—if you -have a secret from me, Gloria, I don’t know what -I shall do to you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment Ruth’s eyes met those of Professor -Pendragon. She saw a strange light flash -into them, like a sword half withdrawn from its -sheath and then replaced, as he dropped his eyes.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>It was easy to slip away alone. Ruth knew that -Gloria, who had gone to her own room, expected -to be followed, but she did not want to -talk alone with Gloria until she had seen Professor -Pendragon. She found the enclosed veranda, a sleeping -porch above the sun room. She threw a heavy -cloak about her shoulders and passed unobserved -down the hall and through the narrow doorway -leading outside. He was there, waiting for her in -his wheel chair. There was another chair beside -him, perhaps for the nurse. She could look out over -a wide circle of white hills with masses of dark -green where fir trees clustered in the hollows. The -outer edge of the circle was stained a deep rose, so -that hill and cloud lay heaped against the sunset -bathed in cold flame.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She moved toward him slowly, wondering how -she would begin now that she had kept her rendezvous. -He laid down the pipe he had been smoking -and held out a hand to her, a hand through which -the light seemed to shine, it was so pale and thin.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She sat down beside him without speaking at once -and looked for a moment at the sunset hills. They -seemed so quiet and cold and peaceful. What she -was going to say would sound strange and unreal -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>here—more strange even than it sounded in New -York.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want to talk to you about Gloria,” she began, -but he did not speak when she paused, so she -went on:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When you sent me that card to the water -colour show—it was at breakfast I got it—Gloria -told me that she’d been married to you. She’s my -aunt—my father’s sister, but I’d never seen her until -after father and mother both died and I came here -to study art. Mother sent me to her because she is -my only living relative. She didn’t know you were -in New York until I got that card, and she asked -me not to tell you about her, so I lied when you -asked me about myself, or at least didn’t tell the -truth. Then just before we came here I saw Nels -Zord and he told me you were here too. At first I -thought of telling Gloria, but I didn’t because I want -you to help me. I want you to save Gloria.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid I can’t save Gloria, my child, any -more than Gloria can save me—she perhaps has lost -her soul—tomorrow I lose my life. It is all set -and we have as little to do with it as with that thin -thread of waning moon up there, which tomorrow -night will be utterly dark.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But don’t you see, Gloria doesn’t understand -and that’s why she is helpless; but you do understand -and can prevent things. You said yourself to -me once, ‘The stars incline but do not compel.’ If -you won’t help me I must do everything alone, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>you must tell me the truth, isn’t George the cause -of your illness?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He leaned suddenly toward her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why do you think that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You talked about the evil eye and the dark of -the moon; the others, Nels and Dorothy, thought -you were joking or talking in riddles, but I didn’t. -The night of the show, when you were first stricken, -I saw George performing incantations before a horrible -snake—a black cobra, I think; a month later -he worshipped the snake again and your illness increased. -He has come here because Angela wants -him to entertain us with his music hall magic. I am -afraid that he will use the snake. You say you are -to lose your life tomorrow; if George is the cause -of your illness, then that is true.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was still leaning toward her, searching her -face in the waning light. He spoke slowly as if his -words were but a surface ripple over a deep lake of -thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is true that my illness is mind-born—I have -known that from the beginning—and that it is not of -myself, and I have tried to discover who could have -thought it on me. It may be, as you suggest, that -George has done it. It is an answer, but why?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because of Gloria,” she said. With another -man it would have been difficult to tell her beliefs, -but for the moment it seemed as if they two were -hanging suspended in the dusk-blue bowl of mountain -and sky, and the soul, eager yet indifferent of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>life, that looked out of his eyes, commanded absolute -truth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“George loves her—he is a Hindoo, and for no -other reason would he have been her servant all -these years. At first he understood the prejudices -of a Western woman and realized that he couldn’t -marry her, but I think if you will look back perhaps -now you can see how he separated you and Gloria. -I have never seen the two men who followed, but -I think he must have hypnotized her into marrying -them, and then himself broken the marriages, and -now she is going to marry this horrible Prince Aglipogue. -George is forcing her to do that. He -boasted that it was so to me. It will ruin her career -and make her poor, and break her heart with shame -when she wakes to what she has done. Then George -will claim his reward. He did not mention your -name when he talked to me, but he said, ‘There is -only one other fit to walk beside her, and he is -slowly dying of an unknown disease.’ You see there -is only one link gone from my story and that is how -you let Gloria go at first. Why did you, why did -you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the retelling of the story that had occupied her -mind all these weeks, putting all her fears into words, -it seemed that the danger she told had grown fourfold. -When she had tried to tell Terry his very -attitude of uncomprehension had made her story -sound unreal, but when she told it now, she saw belief -and understanding in Pendragon’s eyes, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>something else—a resignation that maddened her. -It was as if he watched Gloria being murdered and -made no movement to protect her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, why?” she demanded again, grasping his -arm with tense fingers. She could almost have -shaken him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He seemed quite unmoved by her excitement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria had met George before we were married,” -he said in his quiet voice. “She found him -ill, you know, and paid his debts and got him a -doctor, and when he was well he wanted to serve -her. I didn’t like him and advised her not to take -him; it would have been much better for him to go -back to his profession, but he begged to come and -she liked him; perhaps his devotion flattered her. -Everything went well until the night when Gloria -was to open in a new play. I never went much to -the theatre. I thought it better to leave her alone -in her professional life, and on this night the planet -Eros—a small planet discovered quite recently in -our new solar system—was to be very near—much -nearer than it had ever been but once before, much -nearer than it would be again for many years. The -first time the astronomers of the world had missed -a wonderful opportunity; this time they were all -watching. We were to take photographs if the -weather permitted; by means of Eros and comparative -calculations we would discover something exact -about the distance and weight of many other planets. -It was the opportunity of a century.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>“We had a small flat in London and George was -acting as a sort of butler and sometimes valeting me -as well. I hated having him around, but Gloria said -he was happier when he was busy. I remember now -everything that happened and how he looked at me. -‘You are going to the theatre tonight, Sir?’ he said, -and I had the impression that he often gave me, that -he was being impertinent, almost insulting, though -there was neither impertinence nor insult in his words -or manner.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘No; I’m due at the observatory,’ I answered. -There had been no idea of my going to the opening -in my mind, or in Gloria’s, I think, until that moment, -but when George had left us she turned on me with -reproaches. She said that I took no interest in her -work; that I was jealous of her career and that I -must choose between her and the stars that night. -I dare say I was very stupid, but she seemed quite -strange and unreasonable as I had never seen her -before, and I said some rather nasty things. She -said if I did not go to the theatre she would never -return to the flat. Of course I said that was unnecessary—that -I would go. I did; expecting a -message from her every day. The only message I -got was from her lawyers in Paris, where she had -gone for a divorce. That’s the story.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He stopped talking now, but Ruth waited. Over -the hills the rose flush had faded, the thin, keen -blade of the almost disappearing moon hung like a -scimitar in a field of dark purple and resting above -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>it a star hung, trembling, as if waiting for the cold -arms of a laggard lover.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose half confidences won’t do,” he said -at last. “I still love Gloria; what man once having -loved her could forget? ‘Time cannot change nor -custom stale her infinite variety’; but of what use to -fight one’s destiny—in another incarnation, perhaps. -I cannot believe all that you say of George. That -he is a Mahatma is doubtless true, that he loves -Gloria is gruesomely natural, that he hates me and -has put upon me this mind-born malady is reasonable, -but that he should possess, or even aspire to -possess, Gloria is incredible.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a sadness on his face, another worldness -in his eyes, but there was no light of battle -there, and Ruth, whose youth and energy cried out -for action, felt as if she were beating with futile -hands against a stone wall.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But he does want her, and he’s going to succeed -if you don’t do something. If he has the power to -kill you, he has the power to do these other things -too. Even if you don’t believe this, you must do -something to save your own life.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid I’m not very keen about living; if -I die now it is an easy way out—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She wanted to protest that if he had courage he -might yet win Gloria again, but she did not dare -raise hopes that might never be fulfilled. Even if -Gloria were saved from the Prince who could tell -that she might not marry Terry?</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>“That’s weak, and cowardly,” she said, “and -if you believe in the wisdom of the East you know -that in the next life you will not enjoy the fruit of -any joy for which you have not struggled in this. -You are selfish, too. Even if you no longer care for -your own life, you must do what you can to help -Gloria.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She no longer wants anything from me; she -would only resent my interference.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are thinking only of yourself—what difference -can her attitude make now? Promise me -that you will do something—promise—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps the voice of youth is the voice to follow—I -am afraid I have grown old and age does not -love knighthood, but I promise that if I see any -way in which to change her destiny and mine, I -will make what effort I can. I will think about it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was almost dark now, and Gloria was standing -beside them before they saw her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Angela’s been looking for you; she wants you -to play billiards, Ruth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I don’t know how.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That doesn’t make any difference; neither do I -and neither does Miss Gilchrist; you just stand -around and make the men wish that you’d go away -and let them have a good game—but don’t go just -yet,” as Ruth started away. “I want to say something -to Professor Pendragon and I don’t want to -be alone with him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth could not see his face very clearly, but she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>saw his long white hands clenching over the arms -of his chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought, of course, when we met this morning, -that you would find some excuse for going away -on the next train, Percy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why should I do that, Gloria? I did not know -you were coming; you did not know I was here. We -have been thrown together for a brief time. Neither -Mr. nor Mrs. Peyton-Russell knows that we have -met before. I have promised to stay over the New -Year. John knows I haven’t any particular business -interest to call me away. I thought the least -conspicuous thing would be to stay. My illness -makes it easy for me to stay much in my own rooms. -We need not meet often, but if you wish, of course, -I can go tomorrow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was no trace of bitterness or anger in his -voice. He spoke in a cold, casual way as if he were -discussing some rather boring detail of business.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do wish it very much—Prince Aglipogue has -asked Angela to announce our engagement tomorrow -night. Of course no one but Ruth and Mr. -Riordan knows that we have ever met before, but it -will be awkward for me, even though you seem to -have forgotten everything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her voice, as cold as his at the beginning, deepened -and trembled on the last words, whether with -tears or anger Ruth could not tell. She only knew -that both of these people were suffering as only -proud people can suffer and she did not want to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>watch. She tried to slip away, but Gloria’s hand on -her arm restrained her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really, Gloria, I don’t see why you should -announce a thing like that; you might as well -make an announcement every time you buy a new -frock.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The words could not have cut Gloria more than -they did Ruth. Surely this was not the man who -not fifteen minutes earlier had told her that he still -loved Gloria? If he had hated her he could have -said nothing more rude. She felt Gloria’s hand -tighten on her arm as if for support.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will go, then; you need not trouble,” she said -in a low voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; forgive me—I will go on the early train.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But already Gloria had turned and was walking -away, and Ruth, not knowing what to say, followed, -her heart aching for both the woman and the lonely -man outside. Gloria did not pause nor look back -and Ruth suspected that she dared not turn her face -for fear of disclosing tears.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The warm air inside made Ruth realize for the -first time that, though sheltered, it was very cold -outside. She hesitated, wondering whether to follow -Gloria or to go back and beg Professor Pendragon -not to remain longer out of doors. Gloria decided -her by walking steadily forward and turning into her -own room, closing the door behind her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was still sitting where they had left him, staring -out into the blue-black sky. Even his hands still -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>clung tightly to the arms of his chair as they had -when she had left him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve just discovered that it’s terrifically cold out -here and you ought to come in,” she said, trying to -speak as if nothing had happened.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The nurse was to have come out for me a long -time ago; I dare say she saw us talking and went -back. If you think you could push the chair for me—I -haven’t any crutches here—I will go in,” he -answered in the same tone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Without speaking she moved to the back of the -chair and began wheeling him toward the door. It -really moved very easily. She stopped at the door, -opened it and pushed him through.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Which door?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That one,” he pointed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was next to Gloria’s room and across the hall -from her own. The obvious thought came to her -of how these two, apparently so near, were separated -by a bridgeless ocean of misunderstanding.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>“It’s a worse storm than the one that held up -your train; it’s rather Christmasy and all -that, but it’s rather unfortunate, because the -nurse has become alarmed about Professor Pendragon -and he wanted to take the early train back -to New York. We’ve telephoned Dr. Gerstens, -and if it’s possible for anything to travel five miles -through this snow storm he’ll be here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth glanced across the breakfast table at Gloria -while Angela was speaking, but there was no annoyance -on Gloria’s face, only a desperate fear looked -out of her eyes. Again it seemed to Ruth that she -was a trapped bird.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How about the children?” asked Mr. Peyton-Russell.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, these storms never last more than a few -hours; by noon it will be over and most of them -can get here—those that only live a few miles away. -They’re accustomed to weather like this—unless -James refuses to take out the horses—James, you -know, thinks more of the horses than he does of -us,” she continued, turning to the others. “You -know every Christmas John has the most beautiful -custom. He gees around to all the farm houses -and collects the children and brings them here to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>play games and enjoy our Christmas tree. I expect -you to help entertain them, Ruth. You’re the youngest -person here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid I don’t know much about children, -but I’ll try.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll help,” said Terry quickly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I knew you would,” said Angela, and they all -laughed, though Ruth could see nothing to laugh at. -She was beginning to fear that the events of the last -weeks had dulled her wits.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t Pendragon take the afternoon train if it -clears up?” asked Mr. Peyton-Russell.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The nurse won’t let him; says he can’t stand -sleeping cars. She simply won’t let him go until -morning—and perhaps when Dr. Gerstens comes -he’ll say it isn’t necessary—though he has looked -rather badly the last few days. You know at first I -quite forgot that he was ill until he would try to -walk. I like him so much—don’t you think it’s -awfully sweet of me to like John’s friends, Gloria?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela was in one of her juvenile moods in which -Gloria usually encouraged her, but now she only -answered:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, very.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is the duty of a good wife to like the friends -of her husband,” said Prince Aglipogue, who by this -time had sufficiently satisfied the first keen edge of -the appetite acquired through the night to begin -taking part in the conversation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>This remark was a challenge to Miss Gilchrist, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>who began a long talk on the duty of every woman -to retain her individuality after marriage, illustrating -her talk with examples of what the unfortunate -man who married her might expect. And no one -was rude enough or brave enough to tell her that -all these plans and warnings on her part were -unnecessary. Ruth didn’t even listen. She had discovered -that Miss Gilchrist never required an -answer to anything she said. She was content if only -allowed to go on talking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was at such times as these that everything that -Ruth had seen in the past and everything she feared -for the future seemed most unreal and incredible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Surely here in this warm room with its glowing -fire, its flowers and birds, among these every-day -people, eating breakfast and chatting of ordinary -things, there could be nothing more sinister than the -snow storm outside; and that only seemed to add to -the comfort and good cheer within.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she saw George glide across the far end -of the long room, silent, dark-clad, swift, and she -remembered that this was not only Christmas Eve; -it was also the dark of the moon. The children -would come to play before the Christmas tree in -the afternoon—and at night the doom of the daughter -of Shiva would fall. Later she knew that it was -in this moment that she thought again of the words -of Professor Pendragon: “If I had an enemy I -would destroy his faith in his power to harm,” and -she knew what it was that she must do.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>Angela was right. The snow stopped falling before -ten o’clock. They had all been keeping country -hours and had breakfasted at eight, and they all -watched James drive off in the huge sleigh that was -to bring the children to the Christmas party.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There would not be as many as usual, for James -had been forced to make a late start and he could -not travel very rapidly in the deep snow and the -children must be there at three o’clock if they were -to start home early in the evening. For these very -good reasons he could not stop at more than four or -five of the very nearest farms. However, as each -farm could provide from two to six children, there -promised to be quite enough to keep Ruth busy if -she was to amuse them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The idea of amusing children rather frightened -Ruth, but she was relieved when Angela took them -to see the tree. It had all been very nicely arranged -with enough mechanical amusement to relieve her -of any very great responsibility. The tree—a very -big one—was in a large room from which most of -the furniture, except a few chairs, had been thoughtfully -removed. Aside from the candles and tinsel -ornaments there were dozens of small gifts, of little -value, but suitable almost for any child, together -with the usual “Christian sweets,” as Terry called -them, which Ruth remembered to have received herself -from Church Christmas trees, and to have seen -nowhere else at any time. Then there was to be tea -with lots of cakes and chocolate and nuts and fruit, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>and altogether Ruth could see that there would not -be more than one torturing hour in which she would -have to “amuse the children.” Besides they would -probably amuse themselves.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why not teach them poetry games?” suggested -Miss Gilchrist, “those lovely things of Vachel Lindsay’s, -where the poetry is interpreted by motion—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Better let them play games they know,” said -Angela. “They only have an hour or two, and -there won’t be time to teach them anything new.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, very well. I was only suggesting; of course -if you prefer the old-fashioned, undirected play—but -it seemed to me a splendid opportunity to bring -beauty into the lives of children who might never -have another opportunity of studying it. I have -gone in for child study, you know, quite deeply; I -may say that child culture is my—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth feared that she was going to say it was her -chief <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">métier</span>, but Angela interrupted with:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think I’ll have some little tables brought in -for the tea. Children are so awkward about cups -and things, and perhaps they’ll feel less shy if they’re -all sitting together round a table.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Though her ideas about modern child culture -seemed to meet with so little approval, Miss Gilchrist -did not absent herself from the party. She -was with Ruth and Terry and Mr. and Mrs. Peyton-Russell -while they watched the arrival of the -sleigh load of shouting children. Prince Aglipogue -was, of course, far too dignified to take any interest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>and Gloria had absented herself since breakfast as -if she feared that she would have to meet Pendragon -again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They didn’t seem to mind meeting at all,” Terry -had said to her the day before, but when Angela -had spoken of Professor Pendragon’s dangerous -condition and his plan of returning to the city, Ruth -had caught his glance and knew that he understood -at least in part—at least as much as any one else -could understand. She did not intend to tell him -anything about her own conversation with Pendragon -or the scene between him and Gloria which -she had witnessed. She knew that she had been -there, not so much as a confidante, as an artificial -barrier between two people who otherwise could not -have borne the pain of meeting. The experience -had made her feel very old, and now the idea of -entertaining children seemed almost preposterous.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The door was opened and the little guests came -trooping into the big hall, but something seemed to -have happened when they clambered out of the -sleigh. They had been laughing after the most approved -manner of childhood. Ruth could swear to -that. She had seen their faces and some of the shrill -shouts had penetrated into the house. Now they -stood, with wide, curious eyes and solemn demeanour, -the little ones were huddling close behind -the older ones and all looking like shy, frightened -wood things. They followed Mr. Peyton-Russell -into the room of the Christmas tree; they looked, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>but where were the cries of delight with which Ruth -had expected them to hail this wonder? Beyond shy -“yes” and “no” to questions they said nothing. -They stood like little, wooden images while the maids -separated them from vast quantities of little coats, -sweaters, knitted caps, hoods, mufflers, and overshoes. -Ruth hoped that they would breathe sighs of -relief and begin to look happy after that, but they -didn’t. They stood quite solemnly where they were -and Angela and her husband, who were to return -later to distribute the gifts, fled, leaving them to be -“amused.” The electric candles on the tree had -been lighted, though it was a bright day, and some -of the bolder children drew near to it, but still they -did not talk. It seemed that entrance into the house -had made them strangers to each other as well as -to their hosts, and they looked so dull Ruth wondered, -remembering the hordes of dark-faced children -she had seen playing in Washington Square, -if country children were duller than city children.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let me start them,” said Miss Gilchrist, talking -quite audibly as if the children could not hear. “I -have a great way with children.” She threw an -ogreish smile at them as she spoke and one little -girl instinctively drew near to Terry as if for protection.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now, children, what shall we play?” she asked -in what was doubtless intended to be an engaging -tone of voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>For a long time no one spoke; then a little girl—the -tallest little girl there—whispered just audibly:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Kissing games.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry grinned delightedly, but Miss Gilchrist -flushed a dark purple.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, indeed,” she said, still in her schoolteacher -voice. “I’m sure the other children do not -want to play games like that. Tell me what you -play at school.” But again there was silence. -Though some of the little boys had giggled, there -were indications that most of the children did want -to play “kissing games,” probably because those -were the only indoor games they knew.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why not let them play the games they’re accustomed -to playing—isn’t there one called—er—post-office?” -he questioned the little girl. She nodded -emphatically, and Miss Gilchrist, casting looks expressive -of deep disgust at both Terry and Ruth, -departed. In her absence the children seemed to -gain confidence. They told Terry their names and -recalled to him such details of the fascinating game -of post-office as he had forgotten.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“D’you really mean you never played it?” he -asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was so important.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No child’s education complete without it; but -it’s never too late to mend your ways, so you can -learn now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At first Ruth couldn’t help feeling rather ridiculous, -but the children after five minutes of play -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>seemed to regard her as one of them, and Terry -was perhaps a bit younger than the youngest boy -there. They progressed from one game to another, -and to Ruth it seemed that every game, no matter -how harmless on the surface, called for some declaration -in rhyme about “the un that I luf best,” followed -by a kiss to prove it, and she was in constant -fear that the etiquette of play would require that -she kiss Terry, but it never did. Evidently Terry -understood these things far better than she did, for -while he kissed every little maid in the room and -every little boy made declaration of his love for -her, they never had to kiss each other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Still it was a relief when tea was brought in; a -relief to the children as well, if one could judge by -the enthusiasm with which they greeted it, and afterward -John Peyton-Russell and Angela and Gloria -and even Prince Aglipogue came in to see the distribution -of gifts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They all sat in rows, “Like in Sunday School,” -as Ruth heard one of the little girls whisper, while -Mr. Peyton-Russell made a little speech and gave -out the gifts. Gloria’s cheeks were flushed and her -eyes were unnaturally bright, Ruth thought, but as -always under stress of emotion, she was hiding behind -words, amusing words with a touch of acid -behind them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He used to invite the parents, too,” she told -Ruth; “sort of lord of the manor pose; but he -found that American farmers do not lend themselves -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>well to the tenantry idea; they came and then sent -him invitations as a return of hospitality. They -simply would not be faithful retainers, and then”—</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid Aggie’s being bored—not enough to -drink for one thing—Angela is so conservative—dinner -tonight will cheer him—some more people -coming; the Brixtons and their guests, I think. Hope -Percy has the good grace to keep to his rooms even -though he didn’t leave.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He couldn’t, you know, because of the storm -this morning,” defended Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I say, is he going to die, do you think?” she -asked suddenly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No—what made you ask that?” Ruth felt her -eyes shifting in spite of her efforts to meet Gloria’s -clear gaze.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know—something in the look of him -when we left him there in his wheel chair—you know -everything is finished for us, but still it would be -terrible! I should hate to have Percy die, though -God knows I have enough ex-husbands to be able to -spare just one.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her shrill, mirthless laughter rose above the -chatter of the children’s voices.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t, Gloria—please don’t—I can’t bear it!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look here, child—are you—do you love -Percy?” Her voice had changed now, all the hardness -gone from it—it was almost the mother tone. -Her words startled Ruth more than anything that -had gone before.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>“Love Professor Pendragon? Of course not. I -like him awfully well—I’m afraid I think you’ve -treated him very badly and perhaps I’m sorry for -him, but I never thought of him in any other way. -What made you ask that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria listened, at first with a little puzzled line -between her perfect brows, and then, convinced of -Ruth’s sincerity, her face cleared.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know—something Terry said first gave -me the idea. I think he got the impression from -something you said. And it wouldn’t be so strange, -would it? Percy <i>is</i> attractive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Much more attractive than that horrible creature,” -said Ruth, glancing in Prince Aglipogue’s -direction.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria shrugged her shoulders and did not reply. -One could say anything to Gloria. She was never -offended because people did not agree with her, nor -did the opinions of other people change or influence -her own actions or beliefs in any way.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not try to talk any more. She was thinking -of what Gloria had said about Terry. If Terry -thought that she was interested in Pendragon—if -she could have made a mistake like this—wasn’t it -possible that she had made a mistake in thinking -that Terry loved Gloria? Somehow since their adventure -on the train together he had not seemed so -inaccessible. Reason had told her that he was -unattainable, but something stronger than reason had -told another story. There had been an indefinable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>something different in his attitude toward her during -the last few days—something like a prelude—something -for which they were both waiting. Still, -she must not deceive herself with false hopes. -There were so many things for which she was waiting—things -that would happen now she knew -within a very few hours.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>The other guests had come, so that there were -twelve people around the Christmas Eve -dinner table, among them Professor Pendragon, -in whose quiet face Ruth thought she read -some new resolve. Surely he must have some purpose -in thus joining the others when he knew that -tonight Gloria’s engagement to Prince Aglipogue -would be announced, and when his illness would -have made his absence seem quite plausible. He -moved about so unobtrusively as to make his infirmity -almost unnoticed, and now, seated beside -Ruth, she found it difficult to believe that he was -really paralysed. She talked to him of trivial -things, ordinary dinner chat, or listened to the -others, wondering within herself what secrets lay -behind those smiling masks of triviality.</p> - -<p class='c007'>If Gloria and Pendragon, who had once been married, -could meet thus as strangers, if she and Terry -knowing their secret, or at least a part of it, could -calmly pretend to the world that they did not know, -might not all these other people have secrets, too—old -memories that wine would not drown, meetings -and partings whose pleasure or pain even time could -not dim—immortal loves and hates still living, but -sealed securely in coffins of conventionality?</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>Hundreds of candles flashed against dark walls, -stained to a semblance of old age; bright scarlet -holly berries nestled against their green waxen -leaves, and dark, red roses shed their heavy perfume -over everything. The dinner was being a -great success, for there were no awkward lulls in -conversation, and, while Ruth in her youth and innocence -did not know it, Angela Peyton-Russell was -blessed with an excellent cook, without whose -services the faces of the men present would not have -been so happy. Ruth did not even observe what she -ate, but Prince Aglipogue, upon whose face sat heavy -satisfaction, could have told to the smallest grain -of condiment exactly what each dish contained.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some one suggested that there were enough people -to dance, and Angela, realizing the advantages of -spontaneity in entertainment, eagerly acquiesced. -They would dance for an hour or two after dinner -and she would have her little “show” later; but -the guests themselves would have to supply the music.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Prince, who could be agreeable when he -chose, immediately offered his services and his violin -if Miss Gilchrist would accompany him with the -piano.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It would all be just like an old-fashioned country -dance, and “so delightfully Bohemian,” Angela -thought. She was tremendously happy over the success -of her Christmas party, and her husband was -tremendously satisfied because of the success of his -beautiful wife in the luxury of his beautiful home; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>but Ruth’s heart ached whenever she heard Gloria’s -liquid laughter because there were tears in it, and -in the steady fire of Professor Pendragon’s dark -eyes she saw a flame more pitiful than the funeral -pyre of a Sati.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He talked a little, very quietly of trivial things, -sometimes to her, sometimes to the others, and Ruth -took courage from his calmness. Only as the party -grew more gay it seemed to her that under all the -sparkle and the gaiety there was a silence louder -than the noise, like the heavy hush that falls on -nature before the thunder clap and the revealing -flash have ushered in a storm. So strong was this -sense of waiting that when their host stood with -upraised glass, her hand instinctively went out and -rested for a brief second on Professor Pendragon’s -arm, as if she would shield him. Then she saw -Terry looking at her, and remembering what Angela -had said to her that afternoon, she quickly -withdrew it. There had been no need to touch him, -for Pendragon, like the others at the table, turned -his attention to John Peyton-Russell, listening to his -words as if they held no especial significance for him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want John to make the announcement,” Angela -had said. “It gives him such pleasure to make -speeches. He simply adores it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Evidently she knew her husband’s tastes, for with -the halting words and awkward phraseology of the -man accustomed to addressing nothing gayer than a -board of directors’ meeting, he stumbled at great -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>length and with obvious self-satisfaction through a -speech in which he proposed that they drink to the -approaching marriage of Gloria Mayfield and -Prince Aglipogue.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His words were greeted with enthusiasm by all -those to whom they meant nothing except that a -more or less famous actress was to marry a fat -foreign prince. Ruth heard a woman near her -whisper to the man at her right:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will this make her third or her fourth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And the response:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve lost count.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Prince was responding now—something -stilted and elaborate, but Ruth did not hear. The -dinner had become a nightmare. She wanted to -escape. Concealed in the girdle of her frock was -the little revolver that Terry had given her. She -could feel its weight, and it comforted her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Somehow the dinner ended and Ruth with the -others followed Angela to a drawing-room that had -been denuded of rugs for dancing. A few months -before Ruth would have thought all these people -charming, the women beautiful, the men distinguished. -Now they were repulsive to her. How -could they listen unprotesting to the announcement -that Gloria, the beautiful and good (no power on -earth could have persuaded Ruth that Gloria was -not good), was to marry an ugly ogre like Prince -Aglipogue?</p> - -<p class='c007'>His fat face wreathed in smiles now, he stood, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>tucking his violin under his third chin, and then he -played—he played, and even Ruth forgot the source -of the music. It was not Prince Aglipogue that -played, but some slender, dark Hungarian gypsy -whose music was addressed to an unattainable -princess, ’neath whose window he stood, bathed in -moonlight. She threw a rose to him and he crushed -it against a heart that broke with joyous pain of -loving.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some little time he played before any one danced; -then the insensate callousness of people who “must -be amused” triumphed over the music and the -stupid gyrations of the modern dance which every -one had been forced to learn in self-protection—for -those who do not dance must watch, and the -insult to the eyes is too great to be borne.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Perhaps after all the music of Aglipogue’s violin -did move them; perhaps it was only that they had -dined too well; perhaps because the company was -so small that twice men found themselves dancing -with their own wives; for any, or all, or none of -these reasons, they tired of dancing early and were -ready for Angela’s much-advertised “show.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry had been dancing with Ruth, and she knew -that there was something that he wanted to say to -her. She guessed that it was something about -Gloria, but she did not want to talk to Terry about -Gloria. He could not understand and she regretted -that she had tried to make him understand. She -could not discuss Gloria with any one, not even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>Terry. She knew what she had to do and her whole -mind was set on that. If she talked to Terry his -lack of faith would weaken her purpose. She left -him now, abruptly, ignoring the look of reproach -in his eyes, and walked beside Professor Pendragon, -who was moving slowly on his crutches, a little behind -the others. She meant to stay close beside him -through the rest of the night.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the room that had been the scene of the children’s -party that afternoon a stage had been put up—a -low platform covered with a black velvet carpet -and divided in half by a black curtain on which the -signs of the Zodiac were embroidered in gold thread. -The Christmas tree was still in the room, but unlighted -and shoved away into an obscure corner. To -Ruth it looked pitiful, like an old man, Father -Christmas perhaps, who sat back watching with sorrowful -eyes the unchristmas-like amusements of -modern humanity. There was a piano on the -stage. For a woman who was herself “unmusical,” -Angela had more pianos in her house than any one -in the world, Ruth decided.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In a semicircle, very close to the stage, chairs had -been placed, and here the company seated themselves, -with much more or less witty comment about -what they might expect from behind the mysterious -curtain. Behind them was another row of chairs, -which, carrying out Mr. Peyton-Russell’s “lord of -the manor” pose, the household servants had been -invited to occupy. They came, with quiet curiosity, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>one or two of the maids stifling yawns that led -Ruth to suspect they would much rather have gone -to bed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The semi-circular arrangement of the chairs made -those at the ends of the row much closer to the -stage than those in the centre. On one of these -end chairs sat Professor Pendragon, his crutches -resting beside him on the floor, and next to him sat -Ruth. Then came some of the dinner guests, the -other house guests, including Gloria and Prince Aglipogue, -being at the farther end of the row; the room -was dimly lighted and the stage itself had only one -light, a ghostly green lamp, seemingly suspended in -the middle of the black curtain, in the shape of a -waning moon. Instinctively voices were hushed and -people talked to each other in whispers. Only Ruth -and Professor Pendragon did not speak. She could -not know of what he was thinking, but she knew -that in herself thought was suspended. She sat -watching her hand clasping the tiny revolver concealed -in her girdle.</p> - -<p class='c007'>John Peyton-Russell then announced that Miss -Gilchrist (if she had a Christian name no one ever -heard it) had consented to recite some of her own -poems. The relaxation of the company, almost -visible, was half disappointment, half relief. The -stage set had led them to expect something unusual, -and they were only going to be bored.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Miss Gilchrist seated herself at the piano, on -which she accompanied herself. Ruth did not know -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>if her words were as bad as her music, for she did -not understand them, and from certain whispered -comments she knew that no one else did, with the -possible exception of Miss Gilchrist herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Some one else—a pretty, blond young thing with -a “parlour voice,” sang an old English Christmas -carol that sounded like sacrilege. Then Prince -Aglipogue sang. Ruth never hated him so much as -when he sang because then as at no other time he -created the illusion of an understanding soul. His -painting was obvious trickery; his violin playing of -a quality that did not discredit the composer, for he -had been trained to a parrot-like perfection; but -when he sang he created the illusion of greatness—Purcell, -Brahms, Richard Strauss—it did not matter -whose music he sang; one felt that he understood, -and it angered Ruth that when she closed her eyes -she forgot the singer and could understand how -Gloria might marry and even love the possessor of -this voice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Aglipogue always maintained that the war had -ruined his career. He had an opera engagement in -Germany in 1914, and when the war came he could -not go to fill it. So he had remained in the States, -and his amazing versatility had enabled him to earn -a living as an artist. Now the end of the war had -opened new opportunities and he was going to South -America in concert work. Ruth had never quite believed -his boasting. She did not think that any man’s -work could be bigger than himself—that any artist -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>could express something bigger than that contained -in his own soul; and the soul of Prince Aglipogue -was a weak, cowardly, hateful thing. Yet his voice -moved her, attracted and repelled, cast a spell over -her, exotic, fascinating, yet sinister as if the music -were only a prelude to the wicked necromancy of -the Hindoo that was to follow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The voice ceased, and Prince Aglipogue, alone of -all the company unmoved by his own voice, resumed -his place at Gloria’s side. For a brief breathing -minute no one moved. John Peyton-Russell seemed -to have forgotten his cue. Then he rose and told -them that the real surprise was to come, an exhibition -of magic by Karkotaka, a famous Indian -Mahatma. It was the first time that Ruth had ever -heard George’s Hindoo name and she suspected that -it was no more his real name than was George. She -thought she remembered an Indian story in which a -certain Karkotaka figured as king of the serpents, -a sort of demi-god.</p> - -<p class='c007'>All eyes were on the dark curtain now, but if they -expected it to rise or to be drawn aside they were -disappointed. Instead, it parted silently and Karkotaka, -George, glided through, dressed not in the costume -of a Brahman, but of a mediæval prince of -India. Instead of a turban he wore a high jewelled -headdress. A single piece of cloth, dark blue in -colour and gemmed with small gold stars, was draped -about him, leaving one arm and shoulder bare, and -descending to his feet, which were encased in jewelled -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>sandals. Even Ruth, who had expected something -extraordinary, gasped as he stood bowing before -them. The dignity that had shown even through -his servant’s dress was now one hundred times more -apparent. He moved with a lithe grace as became -the king of the serpents, slowly moving his bare -bronze arms until it seemed to Ruth they coiled and -writhed like living snakes. Under his headdress -his eyes gleamed more brightly than the jewels -above.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had come upon the stage with nothing in his -hands, and except for the piano it was empty, certainly -empty of all the paraphernalia of legerdemain. -Then, suddenly he held in his hand a small -brass bowl. He made a sign to some one in the -back of the room, who had evidently been detailed -to help him, and a servant gave him a carafe of -ice water. This he set down beside the bowl. Then -he offered the bowl to the spectators for examination. -Ruth noticed that he was so close to them that -it was not even necessary to step down from the -low stage. Two or three men who “Never saw a -trick yet I couldn’t see through” examined the bowl -with sceptical eyes and pronounced it quite ordinary. -Then George poured ice water from the carafe into -the bowl and again offered it for inspection. Several -people touched it with their hands and pronounced -the water with which it was quite filled to be ice -cold. Then George set the bowl down before him -and covered it with a small silk handkerchief. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>waved his hands over it three times, removed the -handkerchief, and they saw steam rising from the -ice water. Again George offered the bowl for inspection. -Terry dipped his fingers into the water -and as quickly removed them with an exclamation -of pain. The water was almost too hot to touch.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then from nowhere appeared the little mound of -sand and watering pot indispensable to any self-respecting -Indian fakir. Several people whispered, -“The mango tree—that’s an old one.” Throughout -George had not spoken one word. He seemed -to be unconscious of his audience except when -he asked them to examine something. To Ruth -there seemed in his studied leisure a conscious effort -to disguise haste. He bent now over the sand, pouring -water on it and pressing it up into a little hillock -of mud; then he covered it with a cloth, beneath -which his hands were still busy. Then he moved -away and seemed to be muttering charms. When he -returned and removed the cloth there was the little -mango sprout with its two leathery leaves. Again -the plant was covered, next time to appear several -inches tall with more leaves, and so on until it had -reached a height of more than a foot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was all very wonderful, as was also the -fountain of water that sprang from the tip of his -index finger, until he seemed to chide it, whereupon -it disappeared from his hand and was seen spouting -from the top of the piano. Dissatisfied, he lit a -candle and, calling to the water, made it spring -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>from the candle flame itself. Then he called again, -spread out his arms, and the stream, leaving the -still lighted candle, separated and sprang from his -five outspread fingertips.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In an ordinary music hall the people who watched -would doubtless have conceded that it was clever, -but here in an ordinary drawing-room in an ordinary -country house in the Berkshires on Christmas -Eve, the performance became something more than -legerdemain. It bordered on the supernatural and -they sat silent and fascinated.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Suddenly with an annoyed gesture he threw up -his hands, apparently throwing off the water, which -instantaneously began to flow in myriad streams -from his headdress, reminding Ruth of Shiva, who, -with his hair, separated the flow of the sacred river -when it came down from the Himalayas. George -removed his headdress, disclosing a close white turban -beneath, and the flow of the fountain died as -unceremoniously as it had begun.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The servant who was standing nearby waiting -for his signal now handed George an ordinary walking -stick, which George silently offered for inspection. -After some examination it was agreed that it -was a very ordinary walking stick indeed. George -whirled it about his head and dropped it before his -feet—it was a writhing snake. Several women -screamed. Fountains were pretty, but they were in -no mood for snakes. George picked up the snake -again and whirled it around his head. It was an -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>ordinary walking stick, though the men hesitated to -re-examine it for proof.</p> - -<p class='c007'>George balanced the stick on his finger, holding -his arm out straight before him, and it began to -writhe and twist, a snake with open, hissing mouth -and darting tongue. He dropped it—the same -women screamed again, then laughed hysterically as -they saw the common piece of wood before them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This sort of thing is all very well from a distance, -but I don’t really care for snakes at such close -quarters,” Ruth heard some one whisper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth glanced at Professor Pendragon beside her, -but his eyes were fixed on George. There was an -eager light in his eyes as if he, too, were waiting, and -his firm set lips were curved in a smile. Again her -hand sought Terry’s gift. If all these people here -were the victims of hypnotic illusions, she at least -must keep one corner of her brain free and untouched. -Pendragon’s presence there was proof -that he had decided to fight, and she must help him. -In the semi-darkness of the room she could not see -Gloria, but she heard her laughter like thin bells -over snow-covered hills—it seemed to echo round -the room, and she fancied that George, bending over -the task of clearing away the things with which he -had been working, winced as he heard it, as if the -frost of her mirth had bitten into his heart.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The stage was all clear again now, and he bowed -deeply before them three times. There was a restless -movement among the watchers. Perhaps they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>thought this was the end, but Ruth waited, her -heart high up in her throat and standing still with -fear that she would somehow fail to do the thing -she had decided upon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>George moved slowly backward toward the curtain -and parted it with his two hands, still facing -them. Then reaching back he grasped a heavy -object behind him and dragged it into the centre -of the stage, the curtains closing behind him. -He stood back now and they could see what looked -like a large ebony chest. He knelt before it, and -Ruth could see that there was more of reverence -than utility in his attitude, as he lifted the deep lid -that seemed to divide the chest in half. Before her -eyes she saw forming the altar she had twice seen -before. The side of the lifted top made a wide -platform. It was there that <i>It</i> would lie. From a -compartment in the lifted half he took an antique -lamp, which he set on what now looked like the base -of the altar. Ruth had removed the revolver from -her girdle—the cold metal saved her from screaming -aloud as George lit the lamp—a pale blue flame -from which, on the instant, heavy, odorous spirals -of smoke began to rise, filling the silent room with -the insidious perfume of idolatry. For a moment -the smoke seemed to blind her eyes. Then she -saw—</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>A sigh, more like a gasp, ran through the -room—from nowhere apparently, by some -trick of slight of hand, by some optical illusion, -by some power of hypnosis, they all saw a huge -snake coiled on top of what had been an ebony chest, -but was now an altar, and before it knelt a priest -whose last incarnation had surely been thousands of -years before kind Buddha came to bless or curse -the world with his doctrine of annihilation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then for the first time Karkotaka moved his lips -in audible speech—swaying on his knees before the -altar, he chanted what no one could doubt was a -hymn of praise and supplication to the snake that -lay coiled inert above the lamp. For some moments -he chanted while they waited with held breath, -fascinated, repelled, frightened, for once in their -sophisticated lives, into silence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then the coiled mass began to move—its head -was raised and they could see its cold, glittering -eyes; it seemed to be swaying as Karkotaka swayed -in time to the chant. The clouds of incense grew -thicker and they could scarcely see each other’s faces -had they looked, but their eyes were held by the -tableau on the stage, the kneeling, swaying, chanting -priest and the reptile that swayed in response. Ever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>higher and higher reared the evil head, swaying -always further and further toward the end of the -semicircle at which Ruth and Pendragon were sitting. -Ruth sensed his presence at her side and knew -the tenseness of his waiting, but she dared not turn -her eyes toward him for one moment. Higher and -higher rose the chant until with a swift movement -and a shout Karkotaka stood upon his feet. In the -same moment the snake reared to its full height, -hissing with open mouth toward them. In that instant -Ruth shot. In the confusion she was conscious -of thinking that she must have hit the snake right -between the eyes, for it fell to the floor with scarcely -a movement, and George stood, staring stupidly -down at it. Every one was on their feet—every one -speaking at once, though she could not understand -what they said. She could only stare at the revolver -in her hand. It all happened in such a swift moment—then -her head was clear—Gloria had fainted—they -were trying to give her air. Some one of the -bewildered, frightened servants turned on the lights. -Professor Pendragon strode past her, and though -Ruth saw the smoking revolver in his hand, it carried -no message to her brain. Thrusting aside Prince -Aglipogue, who was kneeling futilely over Gloria, -he picked her up in his arms and carried her out, -and in the general excitement no one thought to -wonder at his miraculous cure. Angela had followed -Pendragon, but Ruth with the others stood gazing -at the horrible enchantment.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>“Who did it?—who shot the thing?” she heard -some one ask.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I did.” She held up her revolver. “I killed -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let me see.” It was Terry standing beside her. -He took the revolver from her hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Sorry, Ruth, but I’m afraid you didn’t. It was -Pendragon. I was watching him and saw him aim -and fire. It was a splendid shot even for an expert -and at such short range, for the filthy brute was -moving and he hit it right between the eyes. You -see, child—” he opened the revolver for her to look—“there -hasn’t been a single shot fired from your -gun.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, I’m so glad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then, though she had never done anything so -mid-Victorian in her life before, she swayed and for -the smallest fraction of a second lost consciousness, -then woke to the realization that Terry was supporting -her and straightened up with protestations -that she was all right.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But why did you, why did he do it? We were -going to see something quite wonderful—I think -the Indian snake dances are—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was Miss Gilchrist, but no one had to answer -her, for Mr. Peyton-Russell came in just then to -tell them that Miss Mayfield was quite all right.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Angela’s going to stay with her for a while, -but if any of you don’t feel that your nerves are -quite ready for bed, come on down to the billiard -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>room. There’s a little drink—real, old-fashioned -hot Scotch, waiting for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was trying hard to be the imperturbable -jovial host and perhaps he succeeded for there was -a general exodus. Terry looked questioningly at -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shook her head. She wanted above everything -to get away from them. They would sit over -their drinks and gossip discreetly—discuss George, -why Pendragon had killed the snake, his sudden return -to health, his usurpation of Aglipogue’s place -at Gloria’s side. She had not killed the snake but -she had gone through all the nervous strain of preparing -to kill it—of thinking she had killed it and -she was very tired.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Terry walked with her as far as the staircase.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tomorrow,” he said, but she did not know what -he meant. Yet she slept that night. She was in -that state of weariness mental and physical in which -one stretches out like a cat, feeling the cool, clean -linen like a caress and thanking God for the greatest -blessing in all this tired world—sleep.</p> - -<p class='c008'>She woke late with a sense of happiness and relief -even before she was sufficiently conscious to -remember the events of the past night. It was a -wonderful Christmas day—sunshiny and bright. -She lay quietly thinking, looking at the holly -wreaths at her windows and watching some snow -birds on her sill. She wished lazily that she had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>some crumbs to feed them. She felt very young, -almost like a child. It would be nice to be a child -again, to get up and explore the contents of a stocking -hung before the chimney place in the living-room -of a Middle West home. She thought of her -mother, as one inevitably thinks of the dead on -days of home gathering, and soft tears filled her -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She answered a discreet knock on the door and -a maid entered with a tray. It was the gossipy maid -of her first day. How she knew that she was awake -Ruth could not guess.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought you’d rather have breakfast in bed -this morning, Miss,” and then as an afterthought, -“Merry Christmas, Miss.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Merry Christmas— It is a Merry Christmas -after all, and I would like breakfast in bed, though -it makes me feel awfully lazy. How did you think -of it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The mistress left orders last night, but I’d -thought of it anyway—after what we all went -through last night—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shook her head and compressed her lips -solemnly. Ruth looked at her, willing to be interested -in anything or anybody. She could not have -been much older than Ruth herself, but hard work -and a coiffure composed of much false hair surmounted -by a preposterously small maid’s cap, made -her seem much more mature. As Ruth did not -answer she went on:</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>“Such goings on—it’s a wonder we’re all alive -to tell of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then you didn’t like the show?” asked Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Such things ain’t Christian, especially on the -Lord’s birthday. Tell me, Miss, was it you killed -it—some said it was you and some said it was the -poor paralysed gentleman, who was cured so miraculous -like.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was Professor Pendragon. Have you seen -him today?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Indeed, we’ve all seen him. He’s walking -round all over the place, and he’s give ev-er-ey servant -in the house a five dollar gold piece!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>This amazing piece of information gave Ruth a -shock. In her selfish absorption in Gloria and herself -she hadn’t thought of the servants and the inevitable -toll of Christmas gifts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you know, Jennie, I didn’t buy any gifts -before I came up here and I almost forgot, but I -want to give you a present—” She was just about -to offer money, and then something in the kind, -stolid face warned her that this would be wrong. -“I’d like to give you something of my own that you -like. If you’ll just tell me what you want you can -have anything of mine—any dress or hat or—well, -just anything you like.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The girl’s eyes spread wide.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Anything?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, anything, that is, if I have anything you -like. If not I’ll have to follow Professor Pendragon’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>example and give you money to buy your -own gift.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve got such lots of pretty clothes—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth thought her wardrobe very limited, but -waited.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is one dress—not a party dress—I’ve always -wanted one—there ain’t any place to wear it, -but if you could—do you really mean it—anything?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course,” said Ruth, expecting a request for -one of her three presentable evening gowns.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then I’d like that blue silk thing with the lots -of lace—the thing you wear here in your own -room.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She pointed to a negligée thrown over a chair by -the dressing-table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Take it; it will make me very happy to know -that you have it.” She tried to visualize Jennie in -the negligée, but the picture was not funny. She -turned her head away so that Jennie should not see -the tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ll most likely be getting a lot of things -yourself, Miss; a man’s gone down to the village for -the mail. You’ll be getting a lot of things from the -city.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m afraid not; still I may get some letters -which will be welcome.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll go down and see—he may be back. He -went early.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was back in an incredibly short space of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>minutes bearing one letter, from Dorothy Winslow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And Miss Mayfield wants to know if you’ll -come to her room when you’re dressed,” said -Jennie, who, seeing that Ruth was going to read her -letter, left her with another hurried, awkward -“thank you, Miss,” delivered through the door as -she hurried off with her blue silk prize.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dorothy’s Christmas letter fairly bubbled over -with happiness, and with an affection for Ruth which -she had never suspected.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It seems ages since you went away,” she wrote, -“and I’m just dying to tell you everything—how -Nels was awfully humble and admitted he’s been -a perfect silly over that imitation high siren, and -then he was jealous—furiously jealous over your -roses. It was hard not to tell him the truth, but I -didn’t—not until afterward, when he asked me to -marry him. Yes, he did! And we’ve done it. -Neither of us had any money, but that didn’t really -make any difference. He’s always been able to buy -his own cigarettes and so have I and there’s no reason -why we can’t do it together just as well as apart. -We’ve got the funniest little apartment on Thirty-fourth -Street—just a room with an alcove and a -bath and a kitchenette. Nels is going to get another -place to work—one room some place—very business-like -and all that sort of thing and I’ll work at -home. But please do hurry back and have dinner -with us sometime. You’ll see! I <i>can</i> cook. But I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>must work, too, else Nels will get ever so many -leagues ahead of me. And please have you delivered -my message to the Dragon? You did give -him Nels’ message I know for Nels heard from him -and that man with the double name who is so splendidly -entertaining you over the holidays is going to -buy the picture. You must get back in time for the -party we’ll put on to celebrate when the check -comes. You know I feel that you made it all happen.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She chatted on over ten pages of art school gossip -that made Ruth rather homesick, and eager to get -back to New York, especially as the first object of -her visit had been accomplished. But had it been -accomplished? The snake was killed and Professor -Pendragon was cured. To her the connection -seemed obvious. Professor Pendragon had been -cured because the object of George’s faith had -been destroyed and with it the mind-born malady -which, through faith, he had put upon the man who -was his rival. But this did not accomplish all of -Ruth’s desire. There still remained the Prince. -Even though George’s power over Pendragon had -been destroyed, might he not still exercise the same -influence over Gloria? And would George calmly -submit to the insult that had been put upon him? -Her whole trust was now in Pendragon. He had -shown that he could fight. Having gone so far he -must go further and drive away Prince Aglipogue. -Then every one would be happy—that is, every one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>except herself and Terry. She was no longer sure -that Terry loved Gloria. Probably he had loved -her because no man could be indifferent to Gloria, -but perhaps he had resigned himself to the unromantic -rôle of friend. He had suspected her of -being interested in Pendragon for herself. That -might mean anything—his thought might have been -fathered by the hope that some one would remove -Pendragon, one of his own rivals; or perhaps she -had betrayed her love for him and he wanted to -turn her attention toward another object, or perhaps—but -men were such curious creatures and who -could tell? At least he did not love her which was -all that really mattered now. Nels and Dorothy -could go working and playing together through the -future, but she must content herself to be wedded -for life to her art; and such art—newspaper cartoons!</p> - -<p class='c007'>While she thought she was dressing, for she was -really very curious to see Gloria and hear what she -had to say. The door of Gloria’s room was half -open and Ruth knocked and went inside at the same -moment. Gloria was fully dressed and seemed to -be in the midst of packing. There were dark circles -under her eyes as if she had not slept.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ruth, I want you to do something for me,” was -her abrupt greeting.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth waited for an explanation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course, Gloria,—anything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>“I believe you would at that—you’re an awfully -nice child; sometimes I suspect that you’re older -than I am; but this is something rather nasty, so -don’t be too sure that you’ll want to do it. I want -you to tell Aggie that I can’t marry him—that I -must have been insane when I said I would, that the -whole thing is utterly impossible—that it would -please me if he would go back to New York at -once. I don’t want to see him any more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth struggled to conceal her joy at this announcement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you think, Gloria, that it would be more -effective if you told him yourself?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; and besides I don’t want to see the brute—he—he— Oh, -I can’t bear to look at him—to -remember everything—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Suppose he doesn’t believe me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He will.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You could write a note.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then he wouldn’t believe; a note would be too -gentle. He’d want to see me and talk, but if you -tell him he’ll know that it’s final or I wouldn’t have -chosen to tell him through a third person. Will you -do it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was going to leave myself,” explained Gloria -with a wave of her hand toward the evidences of -packing. “But I can’t. George has disappeared—absolutely -disappeared—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When—where?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>“I said disappeared; that doesn’t mean he left -a forwarding address. He slipped off into the -nowhere, sometime between midnight and morning -and of course I can’t move until we hear from -him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You can, too!” Ruth was intense in her excitement. -“You can—you’ve given up the Prince; the -next thing is to give up George. He’s been the -cause of all your troubles. I know you don’t believe -it, but he has—he’s hypnotized you—and if he’s -disappeared you ought to be glad of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria looked at her curiously from between -half-closed lids.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why do you think I won’t believe you? I -don’t believe or disbelieve, I know that I have been -hypnotized, or mad, or ill—something. I woke up -this morning quite new— Perhaps it’s religion—” -She laughed with something of her old careless -mirth. “Anyway I’m quite sane now, and I do -want to get back to New York so that I can begin -rehearsals in Terry’s new play. I feel like working -hard, like beginning all over again— I feel—so—so -free, that’s the word, as if I had been in prison—a -prison with mirror walls, every one of which reflected -a distorted vision of myself. That’s all I -could see—myself, always myself and always -wrong.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“May I come in?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was Angela at the still half-open door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, you’re not leaving?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>“No; I only thought I was. Changed my mind -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you’re quite well. The poor, dear Prince -has been quite frantic. He’s so anxious to see you -for himself before he will be assured that you’re -really all right, after the shock last night. He’s -waiting for you now. The other men have gone off -on a hike through the snow. John has such a passion -for exercise—afraid of getting stout, though -he won’t admit it. I told the Prince that I would -try and send you down to him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t go now. Ruth will go down and talk to -him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ruth? But he wants you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A sign from Gloria counselled Ruth to go now -before the discussion, and she slipped out unnoticed -by Angela whose blue eyes were fixed on Gloria, -awaiting explanations.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Prince Aglipogue was not difficult to find. She -could hear his heavy pacing before she had reached -the bottom of the stairs. He stopped abruptly when -he saw her approaching, waving his cigarette frantically -with one hand while he twisted his moustache -with the other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Gloria, Miss Mayfield, she is well; you have -news from her? She is coming down?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Mayfield is well, but she is not coming -down just now. She wants to be alone, but she sent -me—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was impossible to tell him. Much as she hated -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>the man she did not quite have the courage to deliver -Gloria’s message without preliminaries.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes? Yes?—speak, tell me; she is ill, is it -not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a nervous apprehension in his voice -and manner that made Ruth suspect that the news -would not be altogether unexpected.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No; she is not ill. As I said she is quite well, -but she asked me to say—to tell you—it’s awfully -hard to say it, but she asked me to tell you that she -cannot marry you and that it would be very tactful -if you would go back to New York at once without -trying to see her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was blunderingly done, but she could think of -no other way to tell it. Unwelcome truths are only -made more ugly by any effort to soften their harshness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His cigarette dropped unnoticed upon the rug and -his jaw dropped in a stupid way that made him look -like a great pig. One part of Ruth’s brain was -really sorry for him, for he had doubtless been fond -of Gloria in his own way; the other half of her -brain wanted to laugh, but she only stood with bent -head, as if, having struck him she was waiting for -his retaliation. It came with a rush as soon as he -had assimilated the full meaning of her words:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do not believe—it is a plot—she would not -send a message such as that to me—it is the work -of that Riordan— He is jealous—. I will sue her -for breach of promise—one can do that, is it not?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>“Women sometimes sue men for breach of -promise,” said Ruth, who was quite calm now, “but -men seldom sue women; besides, you can’t sue -Gloria, because she has no money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No money?” He laughed and lit another -cigarette to give point to his carelessness and unbelief.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You say she has no money? With a house on -Gramercy Park, she is poor?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Behind his words and his nonchalant air Ruth -caught the uneasiness in his small eyes and knew -that she had struck the right note.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is true that she has a house on Gramercy -Square, but it takes her entire income to pay the -taxes. She got the house from her second husband; -the third was more careful. He only gave her a -small income, which, of course, she loses when she -remarries.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment he stared at her incredulous, but -there was nothing but honesty in her face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is the truth, you are speaking? Come, let us -sit and talk—here a cigarette? No? You do not -smoke? I had forgotten. We have not been such -friends as I might have desired. Now explain—Miss -Mayfield wishes to break her engagement with -me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She has broken it,” said Ruth tersely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is, you can understand, a shock of the greatest—I -loved—but no matter—tell me again of the -affairs financial of Miss Mayfield. As a friend only—I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>am resigned—as a friend only I am interested.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked at him, his heavy body, his fat face, -his oily brown eyes, and was tempted to tell him -the truth of what she thought. He laid one fat -hand on hers with a familiar gesture and involuntarily -she drew back as if something unclean had -touched her. He saw but pretended not to see. He -had an object to achieve and could not afford to be -sensitive. She understood and thought it all out before -she spoke. If she followed her impulse he -would cause trouble, or annoyance to Gloria at the -least. If she told him the truth he would believe -her and would go away without further urging. -Evidently he had thought that Gloria had money, -and Gloria, to whom money meant nothing, had -never thought to tell him anything of her affairs. -It was a repulsive task but Ruth decided to give -him the information he wanted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You must understand,” she said, “that Gloria -is merely a professional woman, an actress, not an -heiress. She has no money except what she earns. -One of her husbands gave her the house on Gramercy -Park. A year later she married again and -when she was divorced from her last husband he -settled on her a small income—hardly sufficient to -keep up the house when she is not working. If she -marries again she loses even that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She rose to leave him, having finished with her -mission, but he caught her hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>“You are speaking the truth, Miss Ruth?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She drew away her hand without answering.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you? Perhaps you have been helping -her?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have even less than Gloria.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>His amazing lack of finesse—his appalling vulgarity -stunned her into making a reply.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is a train in the morning—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is one this afternoon that you can catch -if you will hurry. I advise you to take it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you, I will—you have saved me a great -deal of annoyance. I am grateful—if—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Ruth did not wait for the end of his remarks. -She could not bear to look at him for another second. -He was even worse than she had supposed. -Evidently he had not cared for Gloria at all, and -she had always conceded to him that much—that -Gloria had touched some one small bit of fineness -in his sordid nature.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She dared not return to Gloria just then, for she -knew that Gloria in her usual frank manner had -doubtless told Angela of her changed plans; even -now Angela might be protesting with her and urging -her not to dispose of a real title so carelessly. -Even without the title Angela would not approve -of the broken engagement, for it had been announced -in her house; therefore, she had, in a way, -been sponsor for it, and would want to see it go -through to a successful conclusion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She made her way to the enclosed veranda -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>where she had kept her rendezvous with Pendragon -on the afternoon of her arrival. It was quite deserted -now, but far out on the crest of one of the -near hills she saw a moving, black splotch against -the snow that as she watched gradually resolved -itself into three figures—John Peyton-Russell, Terry -and Professor Pendragon. It gave her a strange -thrill to see them thus—Pendragon striding along -with the rest. Surely this was a miracle—a Christmas -miracle, and she remembered a sentence in an -old book of witchcraft that she had once read:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Verily there be magic both black and white, but -of these two, the white magic prevaileth ever over -the black.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth did not see Gloria until just before -luncheon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I told him, and he’s going,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did he make much of a row?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not after I explained that you hadn’t any -money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let’s not talk about him any more—only has he -gone yet?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes; he wouldn’t even wait until train time. -Said he could get luncheon in the village and started -out as soon as he could pack. I’m so happy about -it—now you can marry Professor Pendragon -again.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She realized at once that she shouldn’t have said -it, but she had left so much unsaid during the last -few weeks and now with both George and Prince -Aglipogue gone she felt that the seal had been removed -from her lips. She felt too, in a curious way, -that Gloria though so many years older, was in a -way her special charge—that she was entering a new -life and must be guided.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria looked at her with startled eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What nonsense! You’re too romantic, Ruth!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But, Gloria, you do love him; you can’t deny it. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>Didn’t you tell me once that he is the only one -you’ve ever really loved?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It takes two to make a marriage, Ruth.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But he loves you too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What makes you think that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He told me so.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Even so, and even if I would marry again, you -must realize that men very rarely marry the women -they love. That’s why we separated, I think. We -married for love and that is always disastrous. I -should never have married at all. Tomorrow we’ll -go back to town and Percy and I will each go our -separate ways and forget the horrible nightmare of -this place. It was just chance that we met—a weird -freak of coincidence. He didn’t want it; neither -did I.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was nothing that Ruth could answer and -presently Gloria went on:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No woman was meant to have both a career -and a husband; lots of them try it—most women -in fact, but usually they come to grief. It isn’t -written in the stars that one woman should have -both loves, art and a husband.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth thought of Nels and Dorothy. Would they -come to grief she wondered. As for herself she -didn’t have to choose—love didn’t come and art had -turned its back on her. She wondered if it was -written in the stars that she should have neither art -nor love. Then she remembered Pendragon’s quotation, -“The stars incline, but do not compel.” So -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>many things had happened here perhaps another -miracle would be performed. She wondered why -Gloria said nothing about Pendragon’s sudden recovery.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a relief not to see Prince Aglipogue at the -luncheon table. The dinner guests of the night -before had all returned to their own homes. -Aglipogue was gone, and Ruth wondered if Angela -would be troubled, because, for once, there was an -uneven number of people at the table. She did look -a bit troubled, though she was trying hard to conceal -it. An engagement announced and broken -within twenty-four hours was rather trying. Still -she was smiling:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ve got news of your servant, Gloria -dear,—rather horrid news. It’s quite a shock—a -bad way to end a pleasant Christmas party, -even though he was only a servant, and not a very -good one.” She paused, but no one came to her -rescue with questions or information and she went -on:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They found him in the snow—he must have -tried to walk to the station and got lost—he was -dead—frozen—and he had the—that horrible beast -with him—the dead snake wound round his body.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her voice broke hysterically and she shivered -with horror.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They didn’t bring him here—thank God—but -took him to an undertaker’s in the village. If he -has any relatives that you could wire—”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>“None that I know of—they wouldn’t be in -America anyway,” said Gloria, quite calmly, though -her face was pale.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then Terry said he’d arrange things, you know—one -place is as good as another. I’m glad you -take it so quietly—it’s an awful ending.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He must have been furious because Pendragon -shot the snake,” said Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Still, if the excitement of killing a snake could -cure Pen, Miss Mayfield ought to be willing to -sacrifice her servant,” said John Peyton-Russell.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It really was remarkable—though I have -heard of similar instances—of paralytics leaving -their beds during the excitement of a fire, and -that sort of thing— I trust there will be no -relapse.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Miss Gilchrist’s tone left no doubt in the minds -of her hearers that she was prepared for the worst. -Indeed, her eyes were constantly fastened on Professor -Pendragon as if she expected him to fall -down at any minute.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There will be none, thank you,” said Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth and Terry exchanged glances. Ruth’s eyes -asked Terry, “Do you believe me now?” and -Terry’s answered, “I don’t know— I don’t understand -it at all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course we’re all very happy over Professor -Pendragon’s recovery,” said Gloria in her most conventional -voice, “and of course I don’t really feel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>any loss about George, though I am sorry he died -that way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is tragic, but now he’s really gone, Gloria,” -said Terry. “I’m awfully glad to be rid of him. -He was the most disagreeable servant I ever met, -if one can be said to meet servants. I don’t think -George ever really accepted me. He used to snub -me most horribly and I don’t like being snubbed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That reminds me that you haven’t any servant -at all, Gloria, so you really must stay here a few -days longer. Perhaps I can find some for you—she -really can’t go back now, can she, John?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really, Angela, that’s unfair; of course I want -Miss Mayfield to stay—we planned to have everybody -over the New Year. Perhaps Professor Pendragon -can persuade her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have had little luck in persuading women to -do anything—if Prince Aglipogue had not left us -so suddenly he might have been more successful.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a little embarrassed silence around the -table after Pendragon had spoken, then Angela began -talking of some irrelevant subject and the conversation -went on, but always Ruth observed that -neither Gloria nor Pendragon ever spoke directly to -each other, though the omission was so cleverly disguised -that no one at the table observed it except -Terry and Ruth who always seemed to see everything -together. Ruth had been so busy with Gloria -and her affairs that she had talked very little to -Terry and never alone; but they conversed nevertheless, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>constantly reading each other’s eyes as clearly -as they would a printed page. The same things -seemed to amuse them both and except in the realm -of mystery which Ruth’s childhood had built about -her, they understood each other perfectly. She -knew now that he wanted to talk to her, but she -pretended not to see, for having begun her task of -managing the happiness of Gloria, she was determined -to go on, and the person she wanted to see -alone was Professor Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Angela who always advertised her house as “one -of those places where you can do exactly what you -please,” and therefore never on any occasion let -any one do as they pleased if she could possibly prevent -it by a continuous program of “amusement” -and “entertainment,” was trying to interest them -in a plan to go skating that evening by moonlight -on a little lake that lay halfway between Fir Tree -Farm and the village. Some one had reported that -the ice was clear of snow and what was the good -of being in the country in winter time if one didn’t -go in for winter sport?</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her plans fell on rather unenthusiastic ears. The -men, having enjoyed a long hike in the morning, -were not eager for more exercise; Gloria wanted -to spend the afternoon preparing to leave the next -morning; Ruth was not interested in anything that -did not seem to offer any furtherance of her plans -for Gloria; and Miss Gilchrist didn’t skate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The very atmosphere seemed to say that the party -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>was finished; that these people had, for the time -being, said all they had to say to each other and -for the time, and wanted to be gone along their several -roads. It is a wise hostess who recognizes this -situation and apparently Angela did recognize it, -for she finally stopped urging her scheme and -when Gloria asked Ruth to help her pack—Gloria -always went on a week-end equipped as for transcontinental -travel—Angela made no effort to detain -them or to go with them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gloria’s moment of confidences had passed. She -talked now, but of Terry’s play. She had told him -of her changed decision and he seemed very happy -about it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perhaps you’ll have a chance to make sketches -of us,” she said to Ruth, awakening again Ruth’s -interest in the work to which she also was returning.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We’ll find two women servants some place and -go on as before, Ruth. Except that I’m not going -to see quite so many people—only people I really -like after this. You know I really love the old -house—as near home as anything I’ll ever have. -Wish we could get Amy back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We can,” said Ruth. “Amy and I had an -agreement when she left that she would come back -if you ever got rid of George. I have her address.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Really, Ruth!” said Gloria, looking at her with -genuine admiration, “You are the most amazing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>young person I’ve ever met. You ought to write -a book on the care and training of aunts. It would -be a great success.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Of this Ruth was not so sure. They were to leave -on the morning train and while she had accomplished -half her purpose she had not wholly succeeded. -Gloria and Pendragon had met and now -they were going to part more widely separated than -ever before, because their opportunity had come and -for some stupid reason they were both letting it go -without reaching out a hand or saying one word to -make it their own. And Gloria wasn’t happy—she -was just normal at last, and a normal Gloria was -rather a pitiful thing. She was like stale champagne—all -the sparkle gone out of her. It seemed -to Ruth that she could not live through another -meal with Gloria and Pendragon talking across and -around each other—Pendragon with his grave, quiet -face in which the lines of pain seemed to be set -forever—Gloria, changed and quiet, determined to -work and succeed again, not for the joy of her -work, but because it seemed the right thing to do. -Yet she did live through another dinner, a most unhappy -meal at which John and Angela sat trying to -talk, realizing that something more than they could -quite understand had gone wrong and not knowing -exactly what to do about it. Terry and Miss Gilchrist -relieved the tension somewhat, Terry consciously, -Miss Gilchrist unconsciously, because no -one else seemed able to talk, drew her out and once -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>started on modern child training, there was no reason -for any one else making any effort. She ran -on endlessly with no more encouragement than an -occasional, “Oh quite, Really, Yes indeed, or How -interesting!” from Terry or Pendragon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>What hurt more than anything was that Terry -no longer signalled Ruth with his eyes. There was -no longer any interest or invitation in them. If he -had had anything to say to her he had forgotten it -or lost interest, for now he seemed to avoid exchange -of words or glances with her as much as -Gloria and Pendragon avoided each other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a feeble attempt on the part of -Angela to start a conversation with some semblance -of animation over the coffee cups in the library afterward, -but finally even she surrendered as one by one -they made excuses of weariness, the early train or -no excuse at all and drifted away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth watched for Pendragon’s going and followed -him. He made his way to the enclosed -veranda. She stood a moment looking through the -glass door, watching him as he paced up and down, -smoking a pipe. What she was going to do required -courage; she might only meet with the cold -rebuff that is due to meddlesome persons, but -Gloria’s happiness was at stake and she could only -fail, so she walked timidly out to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She waited patiently until he turned and faced -her. She thought she saw a look of disappointment -cross his face when he saw who had interrupted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>his solitude. That look, fancied or real, encouraged -her to go on.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wanted to thank you for doing what you did—for -not giving up, and to tell you how happy I am -that you’re well again,” she began.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes—I am well again—I walk and eat and -sleep and wake again—I am alive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And I wanted to ask you if you’re going to stop -now— You’ve saved Gloria from George and -from the Prince—are you going to let her go away -now that you have accomplished so much?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear child, I can’t kidnap Gloria—she’s not -the sort of woman one kidnaps—not even the sort -one woos and wins. She is the other sort—the only -sort worth while I think—the princess who calls her -own swayamvara, and makes her own choice.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But she did choose.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She has chosen too often.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you mean that even if Gloria still loved you -you would not marry her just because she has—because -she has—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>All her old ideas and training rose up and kept -her from finishing the sentence “because she has -had two other husbands.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If Gloria had married one hundred men I would -still want her—don’t you understand that?” He -spoke almost fiercely. “But you don’t understand—you’re -too young; it isn’t that; but Gloria doesn’t -love me. If she did she would tell me so. She -knows that I love her and she has shown very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>plainly that she doesn’t want my love. I appreciate -your kindness,” he went on in a calmer tone, “but -don’t trouble any more—what is written is written -and can’t be changed no matter how one tries.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If I give you my word of honour that Gloria -does love you, what then? She told me so—she -does know that you love her, but she thinks you -don’t—she thinks the husbands make a difference. -She doesn’t believe that a man could understand -that they were just—just incidents.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Neither laughed at the idea of this twenty-year -old girl speaking of two husbands as incidents, -though later Ruth remembered it herself, and -thought it rather funny.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He did not answer,—he was standing quite rigidly, -staring at the door, and, turning, Ruth saw -Gloria approaching them:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sorry; I thought you were alone, Ruth,” -she said and hesitated as if she would have gone -back.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve just remembered,” said Pendragon, “that -the small star Eros is supposed to be visible again -about this time, but we have no telescope. Ruth has -not found it, though she has young eyes— Perhaps -you and I, together, Gloria—if we looked very -closely—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Under the clear starlight she saw them in each -other’s arms. There was one very bright star, that -seemed to hang lower in the sky than winter stars -are wont to hang. Surely it was the star of love, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>though doubtless no astronomer had ever named it -so. She did not know exactly where she was going -when she left them there, but she was very happy. -And then halfway down the stairs she sat down because -her happiness was overflowing from her eyes -in tears and she couldn’t see, and suddenly she felt -very tired. It was there that Terry, ascending, -found her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I say—what’s wrong? You’re crying. I saw -you with Pendragon—has he done anything to hurt -you? I’ll—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No-it’s not that—I’m crying because I’m so -happy—”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He looked at her half-disappointed, half-relieved -and wholly bewildered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s Gloria and Pendragon—they’ve made up.” -She reverted to the vernacular of childhood. “I’m -so happy because they’re happy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But I thought—I thought you cared for Pendragon,” -stumbled Terry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s funny—what made you think that? I -do like him but mostly for Gloria’s sake.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look here,” said Terry. “If you don’t love -Pendragon who do you love?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was smiling through her tears now.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is it absolutely necessary that I should love -some one? You know I always thought that you -loved Gloria. If you don’t love Gloria, whom do -you love?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>For a moment he looked down into her upturned -face, struggling against the provocation of her lips.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I love the most charming, youngest, most mature, -most unselfish, most winsome—oh, there -aren’t adjectives enough. Who do you love?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The nicest—the very nicest and cleverest man -in the world,” she answered demurely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nicest—I’m not quite sure that I like that adjective -applied to a man.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t help it—we can’t all have playwright’s -vocabularies, you know. I could draw him better.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He bent over very near to her while her clever -fingers made rapid strokes. When it was finished -she looked up at him with shy daring in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is my nose really like that?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How did you guess who it was meant for?” -she teased, and turned her head quickly, because she -was not quite sure even now that she was ready for -that wonderful first kiss.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve always wanted to kiss you just below that -little curl anyway,” whispered Terry. “And now -your lips, please.”</p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</h2> -</div> - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - </li> - <li>Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Stars Incline, by Jeanne Judson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STARS INCLINE *** - -***** This file should be named 60413-h.htm or 60413-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/4/1/60413/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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