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diff --git a/1263-h/1263-h.htm b/1263-h/1263-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..216d596 --- /dev/null +++ b/1263-h/1263-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10612 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Glimpses of the Moon, by Edith Wharton + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1263 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE GLIMPSES OF THE MOON + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Edith Wharton + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> PART I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> PART II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART3"> PART III </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> + +<h3>I.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">It</span> rose for them—their honey-moon—over the waters of a lake so + famed as the scene of romantic raptures that they were rather proud of not + having been afraid to choose it as the setting of their own. + </p> + <p> + “It required a total lack of humour, or as great a gift for it as ours, to + risk the experiment,” Susy Lansing opined, as they hung over the + inevitable marble balustrade and watched their tutelary orb roll its magic + carpet across the waters to their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—or the loan of Strefford’s villa,” her husband emended, + glancing upward through the branches at a long low patch of paleness to + which the moonlight was beginning to give the form of a white house-front. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come when we’d five to choose from. At least if you count the Chicago + flat.” + </p> + <p> + “So we had—you wonder!” He laid his hand on hers, and his touch + renewed the sense of marvelling exultation which the deliberate survey of + their adventure always roused in her.... It was characteristic that she + merely added, in her steady laughing tone: “Or, not counting the flat—for + I hate to brag—just consider the others: Violet Melrose’s place at + Versailles, your aunt’s villa at Monte Carlo—and a moor!” + </p> + <p> + She was conscious of throwing in the moor tentatively, and yet with a + somewhat exaggerated emphasis, as if to make sure that he shouldn’t accuse + her of slurring it over. But he seemed to have no desire to do so. “Poor + old Fred!” he merely remarked; and she breathed out carelessly: “Oh, well—” + </p> + <p> + His hand still lay on hers, and for a long interval, while they stood + silent in the enveloping loveliness of the night, she was aware only of + the warm current running from palm to palm, as the moonlight below them + drew its line of magic from shore to shore. + </p> + <p> + Nick Lansing spoke at last. “Versailles in May would have been impossible: + all our Paris crowd would have run us down within twenty-four hours. And + Monte Carlo is ruled out because it’s exactly the kind of place everybody + expected us to go. So—with all respect to you—it wasn’t much + of a mental strain to decide on Como.” + </p> + <p> + His wife instantly challenged this belittling of her capacity. “It took a + good deal of argument to convince you that we could face the ridicule of + Como!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should have preferred something in a lower key; at least I + thought I should till we got here. Now I see that this place is idiotic + unless one is perfectly happy; and that then it’s—as good as any other.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed out a blissful assent. “And I must say that Streffy has done + things to a turn. Even the cigars—who do you suppose gave him those + cigars?” She added thoughtfully: “You’ll miss them when we have to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I say, don’t let’s talk to-night about going. Aren’t we outside of + time and space...? Smell that guinea-a-bottle stuff over there: what is + it? Stephanotis?” + </p> + <p> + “Y—yes.... I suppose so. Or gardenias.... Oh, the fire-flies! Look... + there, against that splash of moonlight on the water. Apples of silver in + a net-work of gold....” They leaned together, one flesh from shoulder to + finger-tips, their eyes held by the snared glitter of the ripples. + </p> + <p> + “I could bear,” Lansing remarked, “even a nightingale at this moment....” + </p> + <p> + A faint gurgle shook the magnolias behind them, and a long liquid whisper + answered it from the thicket of laurel above their heads. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a little late in the year for them: they’re ending just as we + begin.” + </p> + <p> + Susy laughed. “I hope when our turn comes we shall say good-bye to each + other as sweetly.” + </p> + <p> + It was in her husband’s mind to answer: “They’re not saying good-bye, but + only settling down to family cares.” But as this did not happen to be in + his plan, or in Susy’s, he merely echoed her laugh and pressed her closer. + </p> + <p> + The spring night drew them into its deepening embrace. The ripples of the + lake had gradually widened and faded into a silken smoothness, and high + above the mountains the moon was turning from gold to white in a sky + powdered with vanishing stars. Across the lake the lights of a little town + went out, one after another, and the distant shore became a floating + blackness. A breeze that rose and sank brushed their faces with the scents + of the garden; once it blew out over the water a great white moth like a + drifting magnolia petal. The nightingales had paused and the trickle of + the fountain behind the house grew suddenly insistent. + </p> + <p> + When Susy spoke it was in a voice languid with visions. “I have been + thinking,” she said, “that we ought to be able to make it last at least a + year longer.” + </p> + <p> + Her husband received the remark without any sign of surprise or + disapprobation; his answer showed that he not only understood her, but had + been inwardly following the same train of thought. + </p> + <p> + “You mean,” he enquired after a pause, “without counting your + grandmother’s pearls?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—without the pearls.” + </p> + <p> + He pondered a while, and then rejoined in a tender whisper: “Tell me again + just how.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s sit down, then. No, I like the cushions best.” He stretched himself + in a long willow chair, and she curled up on a heap of boat-cushions and + leaned her head against his knee. Just above her, when she lifted her + lids, she saw bits of moon-flooded sky incrusted like silver in a sharp + black patterning of plane-boughs. All about them breathed of peace and + beauty and stability, and her happiness was so acute that it was almost a + relief to remember the stormy background of bills and borrowing against + which its frail structure had been reared. “People with a balance can’t be + as happy as all this,” Susy mused, letting the moonlight filter through + her lazy lashes. + </p> + <p> + People with a balance had always been Susy Branch’s bugbear; they were + still, and more dangerously, to be Susy Lansing’s. She detested them, + detested them doubly, as the natural enemies of mankind and as the people + one always had to put one’s self out for. The greater part of her life + having been passed among them, she knew nearly all that there was to know + about them, and judged them with the contemptuous lucidity of nearly + twenty years of dependence. But at the present moment her animosity was + diminished not only by the softening effect of love but by the fact that + she had got out of those very people more—yes, ever so much more—than + she and Nick, in their hours of most reckless planning, had ever dared to + hope for. + </p> + <p> + “After all, we owe them this!” she mused. + </p> + <p> + Her husband, lost in the drowsy beatitude of the hour, had not repeated + his question; but she was still on the trail of the thought he had + started. A year—yes, she was sure now that with a little management + they could have a whole year of it! “It” was their marriage, their being + together, and away from bores and bothers, in a comradeship of which both + of them had long ago guessed the immediate pleasure, but she at least had + never imagined the deeper harmony. + </p> + <p> + It was at one of their earliest meetings—at one of the heterogeneous + dinners that the Fred Gillows tried to think “literary”—that the + young man who chanced to sit next to her, and of whom it was vaguely + rumoured that he had “written,” had presented himself to her imagination + as the sort of luxury to which Susy Branch, heiress, might conceivably + have treated herself as a crowning folly. Susy Branch, pauper, was fond of + picturing how this fancied double would employ her millions: it was one of + her chief grievances against her rich friends that they disposed of theirs + so unimaginatively. + </p> + <p> + “I’d rather have a husband like that than a steam-yacht!” she had thought + at the end of her talk with the young man who had written, and as to whom + it had at once been clear to her that nothing his pen had produced, or + might hereafter set down, would put him in a position to offer his wife + anything more costly than a row-boat. + </p> + <p> + “His wife! As if he could ever have one! For he’s not the kind to marry + for a yacht either.” In spite of her past, Susy had preserved enough inner + independence to detect the latent signs of it in others, and also to + ascribe it impulsively to those of the opposite sex who happened to + interest her. She had a natural contempt for people who gloried in what + they need only have endured. She herself meant eventually to marry, + because one couldn’t forever hang on to rich people; but she was going to + wait till she found some one who combined the maximum of wealth with at + least a minimum of companionableness. + </p> + <p> + She had at once perceived young Lansing’s case to be exactly the opposite: + he was as poor as he could be, and as companionable as it was possible to + imagine. She therefore decided to see as much of him as her hurried and + entangled life permitted; and this, thanks to a series of adroit + adjustments, turned out to be a good deal. They met frequently all the + rest of that winter; so frequently that Mrs. Fred Gillow one day abruptly + and sharply gave Susy to understand that she was “making herself + ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—” said Susy with a long breath, looking her friend and patroness + straight in the painted eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” cried Ursula Gillow in a sob, “before you interfered Nick liked me + awfully... and, of course, I don’t want to reproach you... but when I + think....” + </p> + <p> + Susy made no answer. How could she, when she thought? The dress she had on + had been given her by Ursula; Ursula’s motor had carried her to the feast + from which they were both returning. She counted on spending the following + August with the Gillows at Newport... and the only alternative was to go + to California with the Bockheimers, whom she had hitherto refused even to + dine with. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, what you fancy is perfect nonsense, Ursula; and as to my + interfering—” Susy hesitated, and then murmured: “But if it will + make you any happier I’ll arrange to see him less often....” She sounded + the lowest depths of subservience in returning Ursula’s tearful kiss.... + </p> + <p> + Susy Branch had a masculine respect for her word; and the next day she put + on her most becoming hat and sought out young Mr. Lansing in his lodgings. + She was determined to keep her promise to Ursula; but she meant to look + her best when she did it. + </p> + <p> + She knew at what time the young man was likely to be found, for he was + doing a dreary job on a popular encyclopaedia (V to X), and had told her + what hours were dedicated to the hateful task. “Oh, if only it were a + novel!” she thought as she mounted his dingy stairs; but immediately + reflected that, if it were the kind that she could bear to read, it + probably wouldn’t bring him in much more than his encyclopaedia. Miss + Branch had her standards in literature.... + </p> + <p> + The apartment to which Mr. Lansing admitted her was a good deal cleaner, + but hardly less dingy, than his staircase. Susy, knowing him to be + addicted to Oriental archaeology, had pictured him in a bare room adorned + by a single Chinese bronze of flawless shape, or by some precious fragment + of Asiatic pottery. But such redeeming features were conspicuously absent, + and no attempt had been made to disguise the decent indigence of the + bed-sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + Lansing welcomed his visitor with every sign of pleasure, and with + apparent indifference as to what she thought of his furniture. He seemed + to be conscious only of his luck in seeing her on a day when they had not + expected to meet. This made Susy all the sorrier to execute her promise, + and the gladder that she had put on her prettiest hat; and for a moment or + two she looked at him in silence from under its conniving brim. + </p> + <p> + Warm as their mutual liking was, Lansing had never said a word of love to + her; but this was no deterrent to his visitor, whose habit it was to speak + her meaning clearly when there were no reasons, worldly or pecuniary, for + its concealment. After a moment, therefore, she told him why she had come; + it was a nuisance, of course, but he would understand. Ursula Gillow was + jealous, and they would have to give up seeing each other. + </p> + <p> + The young man’s burst of laughter was music to her; for, after all, she + had been rather afraid that being devoted to Ursula might be as much in + his day’s work as doing the encyclopaedia. + </p> + <p> + “But I give you my word it’s a raving-mad mistake! And I don’t believe she + ever meant me, to begin with—” he protested; but Susy, her + common-sense returning with her reassurance, promptly cut short his + denial. + </p> + <p> + “You can trust Ursula to make herself clear on such occasions. And it + doesn’t make any difference what you think. All that matters is what she + believes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come! I’ve got a word to say about that too, haven’t I?” + </p> + <p> + Susy looked slowly and consideringly about the room. There was nothing in + it, absolutely nothing, to show that he had ever possessed a spare dollar—or + accepted a present. + </p> + <p> + “Not as far as I’m concerned,” she finally pronounced. + </p> + <p> + “How do you mean? If I’m as free as air—?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not.” + </p> + <p> + He grew thoughtful. “Oh, then, of course—. It only seems a little + odd,” he added drily, “that in that case, the protest should have come + from Mrs. Gillow.” + </p> + <p> + “Instead of coming from my millionaire bridegroom, Oh, I haven’t any; in + that respect I’m as free as you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—? Haven’t we only got to stay free?” + </p> + <p> + Susy drew her brows together anxiously. It was going to be rather more + difficult than she had supposed. + </p> + <p> + “I said I was as free in that respect. I’m not going to marry—and I + don’t suppose you are?” + </p> + <p> + “God, no!” he ejaculated fervently. + </p> + <p> + “But that doesn’t always imply complete freedom....” + </p> + <p> + He stood just above her, leaning his elbow against the hideous black + marble arch that framed his fireless grate. As she glanced up she saw his + face harden, and the colour flew to hers. + </p> + <p> + “Was that what you came to tell me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you don’t understand—and I don’t see why you don’t, since we’ve + knocked about so long among exactly the same kind of people.” She stood up + impulsively and laid her hand on his arm. “I do wish you’d help me—!” + </p> + <p> + He remained motionless, letting the hand lie untouched. + </p> + <p> + “Help you to tell me that poor Ursula was a pretext, but that there IS + someone who—for one reason or another—really has a right to + object to your seeing me too often?” + </p> + <p> + Susy laughed impatiently. “You talk like the hero of a novel—the + kind my governess used to read. In the first place I should never + recognize that kind of right, as you call it—never!” + </p> + <p> + “Then what kind do you?” he asked with a clearing brow. + </p> + <p> + “Why—the kind I suppose you recognize on the part of your + publisher.” This evoked a hollow laugh from him. “A business claim, call + it,” she pursued. “Ursula does a lot for me: I live on her for half the + year. This dress I’ve got on now is one she gave me. Her motor is going to + take me to a dinner to-night. I’m going to spend next summer with her at + Newport.... If I don’t, I’ve got to go to California with the + Bockheimers—so good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly in tears, she was out of the door and down his steep three + flights before he could stop her—though, in thinking it over, she + didn’t even remember if he had tried to. She only recalled having stood a + long time on the corner of Fifth Avenue, in the harsh winter radiance, + waiting till a break in the torrent of motors laden with fashionable women + should let her cross, and saying to herself: “After all, I might have + promised Ursula... and kept on seeing him....” + </p> + <p> + Instead of which, when Lansing wrote the next day entreating a word with + her, she had sent back a friendly but firm refusal; and had managed soon + afterward to get taken to Canada for a fortnight’s ski-ing, and then to + Florida for six weeks in a house-boat.... + </p> + <p> + As she reached this point in her retrospect the remembrance of Florida + called up a vision of moonlit waters, magnolia fragrance and balmy airs; + merging with the circumambient sweetness, it laid a drowsy spell upon her + lids. Yes, there had been a bad moment: but it was over; and she was here, + safe and blissful, and with Nick; and this was his knee her head rested + on, and they had a year ahead of them... a whole year.... “Not counting + the pearls,” she murmured, shutting her eyes.... + </p> + + + <h3>II.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lansing</span> threw the end of Strefford’s expensive cigar into the lake, and + bent over his wife. Poor child! She had fallen asleep.... He leaned back + and stared up again at the silver-flooded sky. How queer—how + inexpressibly queer—it was to think that that light was shed by his + honey-moon! A year ago, if anyone had predicted his risking such an + adventure, he would have replied by asking to be locked up at the first + symptoms.... + </p> + <p> + There was still no doubt in his mind that the adventure was a mad one. It + was all very well for Susy to remind him twenty times a day that they had + pulled it off—and so why should he worry? Even in the light of her + far-seeing cleverness, and of his own present bliss, he knew the future + would not bear the examination of sober thought. And as he sat there in + the summer moonlight, with her head on his knee, he tried to recapitulate + the successive steps that had landed them on Streffy’s lake-front. + </p> + <p> + On Lansing’s side, no doubt, it dated back to his leaving Harvard with the + large resolve not to miss anything. There stood the evergreen Tree of + Life, the Four Rivers flowing from its foot; and on every one of the four + currents he meant to launch his little skiff. On two of them he had not + gone very far, on the third he had nearly stuck in the mud; but the fourth + had carried him to the very heart of wonder. It was the stream of his + lively imagination, of his inexhaustible interest in every form of beauty + and strangeness and folly. On this stream, sitting in the stout little + craft of his poverty, his insignificance and his independence, he had made + some notable voyages.... And so, when Susy Branch, whom he had sought out + through a New York season as the prettiest and most amusing girl in sight, + had surprised him with the contradictory revelation of her modern sense of + expediency and her old-fashioned standard of good faith, he had felt an + irresistible desire to put off on one more cruise into the unknown. + </p> + <p> + It was of the essence of the adventure that, after her one brief visit to + his lodgings, he should have kept his promise and not tried to see her + again. Even if her straightforwardness had not roused his emulation, his + understanding of her difficulties would have moved his pity. He knew on + how frail a thread the popularity of the penniless hangs, and how + miserably a girl like Susy was the sport of other people’s moods and + whims. It was a part of his difficulty and of hers that to get what they + liked they so often had to do what they disliked. But the keeping of his + promise was a greater bore than he had expected. Susy Branch had become a + delightful habit in a life where most of the fixed things were dull, and + her disappearance had made it suddenly clear to him that his resources + were growing more and more limited. Much that had once amused him hugely + now amused him less, or not at all: a good part of his world of wonder had + shrunk to a village peep-show. And the things which had kept their + stimulating power—distant journeys, the enjoyment of art, the + contact with new scenes and strange societies—were becoming less and + less attainable. Lansing had never had more than a pittance; he had spent + rather too much of it in his first plunge into life, and the best he could + look forward to was a middle-age of poorly-paid hack-work, mitigated by + brief and frugal holidays. He knew that he was more intelligent than the + average, but he had long since concluded that his talents were not + marketable. Of the thin volume of sonnets which a friendly publisher had + launched for him, just seventy copies had been sold; and though his essay + on “Chinese Influences in Greek Art” had created a passing stir, it had + resulted in controversial correspondence and dinner invitations rather + than in more substantial benefits. There seemed, in short, no prospect of + his ever earning money, and his restricted future made him attach an + increasing value to the kind of friendship that Susy Branch had given him. + Apart from the pleasure of looking at her and listening to her—of + enjoying in her what others less discriminatingly but as liberally + appreciated—he had the sense, between himself and her, of a kind of + free-masonry of precocious tolerance and irony. They had both, in early + youth, taken the measure of the world they happened to live in: they knew + just what it was worth to them and for what reasons, and the community of + these reasons lent to their intimacy its last exquisite touch. And now, + because of some jealous whim of a dissatisfied fool of a woman, as to whom + he felt himself no more to blame than any young man who has paid for good + dinners by good manners, he was to be deprived of the one complete + companionship he had ever known.... + </p> + <p> + His thoughts travelled on. He recalled the long dull spring in New York + after his break with Susy, the weary grind on his last articles, his + listless speculations as to the cheapest and least boring way of disposing + of the summer; and then the amazing luck of going, reluctantly and at the + last minute, to spend a Sunday with the poor Nat Fulmers, in the wilds of + New Hampshire, and of finding Susy there—Susy, whom he had never + even suspected of knowing anybody in the Fulmers’ set! + </p> + <p> + She had behaved perfectly—and so had he—but they were + obviously much too glad to see each other. And then it was unsettling to + be with her in such a house as the Fulmers’, away from the large setting + of luxury they were both used to, in the cramped cottage where their host + had his studio in the verandah, their hostess practiced her violin in the + dining-room, and five ubiquitous children sprawled and shouted and blew + trumpets and put tadpoles in the water-jugs, and the mid-day dinner was + two hours late—and proportionately bad—because the Italian cook was + posing for Fulmer. + </p> + <p> + Lansing’s first thought had been that meeting Susy in such circumstances + would be the quickest way to cure them both of their regrets. The case of + the Fulmers was an awful object-lesson in what happened to young people + who lost their heads; poor Nat, whose pictures nobody bought, had gone to + seed so terribly—and Grace, at twenty-nine, would never again be anything + but the woman of whom people say, “I can remember her when she was + lovely.” + </p> + <p> + But the devil of it was that Nat had never been such good company, or + Grace so free from care and so full of music; and that, in spite of their + disorder and dishevelment, and the bad food and general crazy discomfort, + there was more amusement to be got out of their society than out of the + most opulently staged house-party through which Susy and Lansing had ever + yawned their way. + </p> + <p> + It was almost a relief to the young man when, on the second afternoon, + Miss Branch drew him into the narrow hall to say: “I really can’t stand + the combination of Grace’s violin and little Nat’s motor-horn any longer. + Do let us slip out till the duet is over.” + </p> + <p> + “How do they stand it, I wonder?” he basely echoed, as he followed her up + the wooded path behind the house. + </p> + <p> + “It might be worth finding out,” she rejoined with a musing smile. + </p> + <p> + But he remained resolutely skeptical. “Oh, give them a year or two more + and they’ll collapse—! His pictures will never sell, you know. He’ll + never even get them into a show.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose not. And she’ll never have time to do anything worth while with + her music.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached a piny knoll high above the ledge on which the house was + perched. All about them stretched an empty landscape of endless + featureless wooded hills. “Think of sticking here all the year round!” + Lansing groaned. + </p> + <p> + “I know. But then think of wandering over the world with some people!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Lord, yes. For instance, my trip to India with the Mortimer Hickses. + But it was my only chance and what the deuce is one to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew!” she sighed, thinking of the Bockheimers; and he turned + and looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Knew what?” + </p> + <p> + “The answer to your question. What is one to do—when one sees both + sides of the problem? Or every possible side of it, indeed?” + </p> + <p> + They had seated themselves on a commanding rock under the pines, but + Lansing could not see the view at their feet for the stir of the brown + lashes on her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “You mean: Nat and Grace may after all be having the best of it?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I say, when I’ve told you I see all the sides? Of course,” Susy + added hastily, “I couldn’t live as they do for a week. But it’s wonderful + how little it’s dimmed them.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly Nat was never more coruscating. And she keeps it up even + better.” He reflected. “We do them good, I daresay.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—or they us. I wonder which?” + </p> + <p> + After that, he seemed to remember that they sat a long time silent, and + that his next utterance was a boyish outburst against the tyranny of the + existing order of things, abruptly followed by the passionate query why, + since he and she couldn’t alter it, and since they both had the habit of + looking at facts as they were, they wouldn’t be utter fools not to take + their chance of being happy in the only way that was open to them, To this + challenge he did not recall Susy’s making any definite answer; but after + another interval, in which all the world seemed framed in a sudden kiss, + he heard her murmur to herself in a brooding tone: “I don’t suppose it’s + ever been tried before; but we might—.” And then and there she had + laid before him the very experiment they had since hazarded. + </p> + <p> + She would have none of surreptitious bliss, she began by declaring; and + she set forth her reasons with her usual lucid impartiality. In the first + place, she should have to marry some day, and when she made the bargain + she meant it to be an honest one; and secondly, in the matter of love, she + would never give herself to anyone she did not really care for, and if + such happiness ever came to her she did not want it shorn of half its + brightness by the need of fibbing and plotting and dodging. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve seen too much of that kind of thing. Half the women I know who’ve + had lovers have had them for the fun of sneaking and lying about it; but + the other half have been miserable. And I should be miserable.” + </p> + <p> + It was at this point that she unfolded her plan. Why shouldn’t they marry; + belong to each other openly and honourably, if for ever so short a time, + and with the definite understanding that whenever either of them got the + chance to do better he or she should be immediately released? The law of + their country facilitated such exchanges, and society was beginning to + view them as indulgently as the law. As Susy talked, she warmed to her + theme and began to develop its endless possibilities. + </p> + <p> + “We should really, in a way, help more than we should hamper each other,” + she ardently explained. “We both know the ropes so well; what one of us + didn’t see the other might—in the way of opportunities, I mean. And + then we should be a novelty as married people. We’re both rather unusually + popular—why not be frank!—and it’s such a blessing for + dinner-givers to be able to count on a couple of whom neither one is a + blank. Yes, I really believe we should be more than twice the success we + are now; at least,” she added with a smile, “if there’s that amount of + room for improvement. I don’t know how you feel; a man’s popularity is so + much less precarious than a girl’s—but I know it would furbish me up + tremendously to reappear as a married woman.” She glanced away from him + down the long valley at their feet, and added in a lower tone: “And I + should like, just for a little while, to feel I had something in life of + my very own—something that nobody had lent me, like a fancy-dress or + a motor or an opera cloak.” + </p> + <p> + The suggestion, at first, had seemed to Lansing as mad as it was + enchanting: it had thoroughly frightened him. But Susy’s arguments were + irrefutable, her ingenuities inexhaustible. Had he ever thought it all + out? She asked. No. Well, she had; and would he kindly not interrupt? In + the first place, there would be all the wedding-presents. Jewels, and a + motor, and a silver dinner service, did she mean? Not a bit of it! She + could see he’d never given the question proper thought. Cheques, my dear, + nothing but cheques—she undertook to manage that on her side: she + really thought she could count on about fifty, and she supposed he could + rake up a few more? Well, all that would simply represent pocket-money! + For they would have plenty of houses to live in: he’d see. People were + always glad to lend their house to a newly-married couple. It was such fun + to pop down and see them: it made one feel romantic and jolly. All they + need do was to accept the houses in turn: go on honey-mooning for a year! + What was he afraid of? Didn’t he think they’d be happy enough to want to + keep it up? And why not at least try—get engaged, and then see what + would happen? Even if she was all wrong, and her plan failed, wouldn’t it + have been rather nice, just for a month or two, to fancy they were going + to be happy? “I’ve often fancied it all by myself,” she concluded; “but + fancying it with you would somehow be so awfully different....” + </p> + <p> + That was how it began: and this lakeside dream was what it had led up to. + Fantastically improbable as they had seemed, all her previsions had come + true. If there were certain links in the chain that Lansing had never been + able to put his hand on, certain arrangements and contrivances that still + needed further elucidation, why, he was lazily resolved to clear them up + with her some day; and meanwhile it was worth all the past might have + cost, and every penalty the future might exact of him, just to be sitting + here in the silence and sweetness, her sleeping head on his knee, clasped + in his joy as the hushed world was clasped in moonlight. + </p> + <p> + He stooped down and kissed her. “Wake up,” he whispered, “it’s bed-time.” + </p> + + +<h3>III.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Their</span> month of Como was within a few hours of ending. Till the last moment + they had hoped for a reprieve; but the accommodating Streffy had been + unable to put the villa at their disposal for a longer time, since he had + had the luck to let it for a thumping price to some beastly bouncers who + insisted on taking possession at the date agreed on. + </p> + <p> + Lansing, leaving Susy’s side at dawn, had gone down to the lake for a last + plunge; and swimming homeward through the crystal light he looked up at + the garden brimming with flowers, the long low house with the cypress wood + above it, and the window behind which his wife still slept. The month had + been exquisite, and their happiness as rare, as fantastically complete, as + the scene before him. He sank his chin into the sunlit ripples and sighed + for sheer content.... + </p> + <p> + It was a bore to be leaving the scene of such complete well-being, but the + next stage in their progress promised to be hardly less delightful. Susy + was a magician: everything she predicted came true. Houses were being + showered on them; on all sides he seemed to see beneficent spirits winging + toward them, laden with everything from a piano nobile in Venice to a camp + in the Adirondacks. For the present, they had decided on the former. Other + considerations apart, they dared not risk the expense of a journey across + the Atlantic; so they were heading instead for the Nelson Vanderlyns’ + palace on the Giudecca. They were agreed that, for reasons of expediency, + it might be wise to return to New York for the coming winter. It would + keep them in view, and probably lead to fresh opportunities; indeed, Susy + already had in mind the convenient flat that she was sure a migratory + cousin (if tactfully handled, and assured that they would not overwork her + cook) could certainly be induced to lend them. Meanwhile the need of + making plans was still remote; and if there was one art in which young + Lansing’s twenty-eight years of existence had perfected him it was that of + living completely and unconcernedly in the present.... + </p> + <p> + If of late he had tried to look into the future more insistently than was + his habit, it was only because of Susy. He had meant, when they married, + to be as philosophic for her as for himself; and he knew she would have + resented above everything his regarding their partnership as a reason for + anxious thought. But since they had been together she had given him + glimpses of her past that made him angrily long to shelter and defend her + future. It was intolerable that a spirit as fine as hers should be ever so + little dulled or diminished by the kind of compromises out of which their + wretched lives were made. For himself, he didn’t care a hang: he had + composed for his own guidance a rough-and-ready code, a short set of + “mays” and “mustn’ts” which immensely simplified his course. There were + things a fellow put up with for the sake of certain definite and otherwise + unattainable advantages; there were other things he wouldn’t traffic with + at any price. But for a woman, he began to see, it might be different. The + temptations might be greater, the cost considerably higher, the dividing + line between the “mays” and “mustn’ts” more fluctuating and less sharply + drawn. Susy, thrown on the world at seventeen, with only a weak wastrel of + a father to define that treacherous line for her, and with every + circumstance soliciting her to overstep it, seemed to have been preserved + chiefly by an innate scorn of most of the objects of human folly. “Such + trash as he went to pieces for,” was her curt comment on her parent’s + premature demise: as though she accepted in advance the necessity of + ruining one’s self for something, but was resolved to discriminate firmly + between what was worth it and what wasn’t. + </p> + <p> + This philosophy had at first enchanted Lansing; but now it began to rouse + vague fears. The fine armour of her fastidiousness had preserved her from + the kind of risks she had hitherto been exposed to; but what if others, + more subtle, found a joint in it? Was there, among her delicate + discriminations, any equivalent to his own rules? Might not her taste for + the best and rarest be the very instrument of her undoing; and if + something that wasn’t “trash” came her way, would she hesitate a second to + go to pieces for it? + </p> + <p> + He was determined to stick to the compact that they should do nothing to + interfere with what each referred to as the other’s “chance”; but what if, + when hers came, he couldn’t agree with her in recognizing it? He wanted + for her, oh, so passionately, the best; but his conception of that best + had so insensibly, so subtly been transformed in the light of their first + month together! + </p> + <p> + His lazy strokes were carrying him slowly shoreward; but the hour was so + exquisite that a few yards from the landing he laid hold of the mooring + rope of Streffy’s boat and floated there, following his dream.... It was a + bore to be leaving; no doubt that was what made him turn things inside-out + so uselessly. Venice would be delicious, of course; but nothing would ever + again be as sweet as this. And then they had only a year of security + before them; and of that year a month was gone. + </p> + <p> + Reluctantly he swam ashore, walked up to the house, and pushed open a + window of the cool painted drawing-room. Signs of departure were already + visible. There were trunks in the hall, tennis rackets on the stairs; on + the landing, the cook Giulietta had both arms around a slippery hold-all + that refused to let itself be strapped. It all gave him a chill sense of + unreality, as if the past month had been an act on the stage, and its + setting were being folded away and rolled into the wings to make room for + another play in which he and Susy had no part. + </p> + <p> + By the time he came down again, dressed and hungry, to the terrace where + coffee awaited him, he had recovered his usual pleasant sense of security. + Susy was there, fresh and gay, a rose in her breast and the sun in her + hair: her head was bowed over Bradshaw, but she waved a fond hand across + the breakfast things, and presently looked up to say: “Yes, I believe we + can just manage it.” + </p> + <p> + “Manage what?” + </p> + <p> + “To catch the train at Milan—if we start in the motor at ten sharp.” + </p> + <p> + He stared. “The motor? What motor?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the new people’s—Streffy’s tenants. He’s never told me their + name, and the chauffeur says he can’t pronounce it. The chauffeur’s is + Ottaviano, anyhow; I’ve been making friends with him. He arrived last + night, and he says they’re not due at Como till this evening. He simply + jumped at the idea of running us over to Milan.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord—” said Lansing, when she stopped. + </p> + <p> + She sprang up from the table with a laugh. “It will be a scramble; but + I’ll manage it, if you’ll go up at once and pitch the last things into + your trunk.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but look here—have you any idea what it’s going to cost?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyebrows gaily. “Why, a good deal less than our railway + tickets. Ottaviano’s got a sweetheart in Milan, and hasn’t seen her for + six months. When I found that out I knew he’d be going there anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + It was clever of her, and he laughed. But why was it that he had grown to + shrink from even such harmless evidence of her always knowing how to + “manage”? “Oh, well,” he said to himself, “she’s right: the fellow would + be sure to be going to Milan.” + </p> + <p> + Upstairs, on the way to his dressing room, he found her in a cloud of + finery which her skilful hands were forcibly compressing into a last + portmanteau. He had never seen anyone pack as cleverly as Susy: the way + she coaxed reluctant things into a trunk was a symbol of the way she + fitted discordant facts into her life. “When I’m rich,” she often said, + “the thing I shall hate most will be to see an idiot maid at my trunks.” + </p> + <p> + As he passed, she glanced over her shoulder, her face pink with the + struggle, and drew a cigar-box from the depths. “Dearest, do put a couple + of cigars into your pocket as a tip for Ottaviano.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing stared. “Why, what on earth are you doing with Streffy’s cigars?” + </p> + <p> + “Packing them, of course.... You don’t suppose he meant them for those + other people?” She gave him a look of honest wonder. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know whom he meant them for—but they’re not ours....” + </p> + <p> + She continued to look at him wonderingly. “I don’t see what there is to be + solemn about. The cigars are not Streffy’s either... you may be sure he + got them out of some bounder. And there’s nothing he’d hate more than to + have them passed on to another.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense. If they’re not Streffy’s they’re much less mine. Hand them + over, please, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like. But it does seem a waste; and, of course, the other + people will never have one of them.... The gardener and Giulietta’s lover + will see to that!” + </p> + <p> + Lansing looked away from her at the waves of lace and muslin from which + she emerged like a rosy Nereid. “How many boxes of them are left?” + </p> + <p> + “Only four.” + </p> + <p> + “Unpack them, please.” + </p> + <p> + Before she moved there was a pause so full of challenge that Lansing had + time for an exasperated sense of the disproportion between his anger and + its cause. And this made him still angrier. + </p> + <p> + She held out a box. “The others are in your suitcase downstairs. It’s + locked and strapped.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the key, then.” + </p> + <p> + “We might send them back from Venice, mightn’t we? That lock is so nasty: + it will take you half an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the key, please.” She gave it. + </p> + <p> + He went downstairs and battled with the lock, for the allotted half-hour, + under the puzzled eyes of Giulietta and the sardonic grin of the + chauffeur, who now and then, from the threshold, politely reminded him how + long it would take to get to Milan. Finally the key turned, and Lansing, + broken-nailed and perspiring, extracted the cigars and stalked with them + into the deserted drawing room. The great bunches of golden roses that he + and Susy had gathered the day before were dropping their petals on the + marble embroidery of the floor, pale camellias floated in the alabaster + tazzas between the windows, haunting scents of the garden blew in on him + with the breeze from the lake. Never had Streffy’s little house seemed so + like a nest of pleasures. Lansing laid the cigar boxes on a console and + ran upstairs to collect his last possessions. When he came down again, his + wife, her eyes brilliant with achievement, was seated in their borrowed + chariot, the luggage cleverly stowed away, and Giulietta and the gardener + kissing her hand and weeping out inconsolable farewells. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what she’s given them?” he thought, as he jumped in beside her + and the motor whirled them through the nightingale-thickets to the gate. + </p> + + +<h3>IV.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Charlie Strefford’s</span> villa was like a nest in a rose-bush; the Nelson + Vanderlyns’ palace called for loftier analogies. + </p> + <p> + Its vastness and splendour seemed, in comparison, oppressive to Susy. + Their landing, after dark, at the foot of the great shadowy staircase, + their dinner at a dimly-lit table under a ceiling weighed down with + Olympians, their chilly evening in a corner of a drawing room where + minuets should have been danced before a throne, contrasted with the happy + intimacies of Como as their sudden sense of disaccord contrasted with the + mutual confidence of the day before. + </p> + <p> + The journey had been particularly jolly: both Susy and Lansing had had too + long a discipline in the art of smoothing things over not to make a + special effort to hide from each other the ravages of their first + disagreement. But, deep down and invisible, the disagreement remained; and + compunction for having been its cause gnawed at Susy’s bosom as she sat in + her tapestried and vaulted bedroom, brushing her hair before a tarnished + mirror. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I liked grandeur; but this place is really out of scale,” she + mused, watching the reflection of a pale hand move back and forward in the + dim recesses of the mirror. “And yet,” she continued, “Ellie Vanderlyn’s + hardly half an inch taller than I am; and she certainly isn’t a bit more + dignified.... I wonder if it’s because I feel so horribly small to-night + that the place seems so horribly big.” + </p> + <p> + She loved luxury: splendid things always made her feel handsome and high + ceilings arrogant; she did not remember having ever before been oppressed + by the evidences of wealth. + </p> + <p> + She laid down the brush and leaned her chin on her clasped hands.... Even + now she could not understand what had made her take the cigars. She had + always been alive to the value of her inherited scruples: her reasoned + opinions were unusually free, but with regard to the things one couldn’t + reason about she was oddly tenacious. And yet she had taken Streffy’s + cigars! She had taken them—yes, that was the point—she had + taken them for Nick, because the desire to please him, to make the + smallest details of his life easy and agreeable and luxurious, had become + her absorbing preoccupation. She had committed, for him, precisely the + kind of little baseness she would most have scorned to commit for herself; + and, since he hadn’t instantly felt the difference, she would never be + able to explain it to him. + </p> + <p> + She stood up with a sigh, shook out her loosened hair, and glanced around + the great frescoed room. The maid-servant had said something about the + Signora’s having left a letter for her; and there it lay on the + writing-table, with her mail and Nick’s; a thick envelope addressed in + Ellie’s childish scrawl, with a glaring “Private” dashed across the + corner. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth can she have to say, when she hates writing so,” Susy + mused. + </p> + <p> + She broke open the envelope, and four or five stamped and sealed letters + fell from it. All were addressed, in Ellie’s hand, to Nelson Vanderlyn + Esqre; and in the corner of each was faintly pencilled a number and a + date: one, two, three, four—with a week’s interval between the + dates. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness—” gasped Susy, understanding. + </p> + <p> + She had dropped into an armchair near the table, and for a long time she + sat staring at the numbered letters. A sheet of paper covered with Ellie’s + writing had fluttered out among them, but she let it lie; she knew so well + what it would say! She knew all about her friend, of course; except poor + old Nelson, who didn’t, But she had never imagined that Ellie would dare + to use her in this way. It was unbelievable... she had never pictured + anything so vile.... The blood rushed to her face, and she sprang up + angrily, half minded to tear the letters in bits and throw them all into + the fire. + </p> + <p> + She heard her husband’s knock on the door between their rooms, and swept + the dangerous packet under the blotting-book. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go away, please, there’s a dear,” she called out; “I haven’t finished + unpacking, and everything’s in such a mess.” Gathering up Nick’s papers + and letters, she ran across the room and thrust them through the door. + “Here’s something to keep you quiet,” she laughed, shining in on him an + instant from the threshold. + </p> + <p> + She turned back feeling weak with shame. Ellie’s letter lay on the floor: + reluctantly she stooped to pick it up, and one by one the expected phrases + sprang out at her. + </p> + <p> + “One good turn deserves another.... Of course you and Nick are welcome to + stay all summer.... There won’t be a particle of expense for you—the + servants have orders.... If you’ll just be an angel and post these letters + yourself.... It’s been my only chance for such an age; when we meet I’ll + explain everything. And in a month at latest I’ll be back to fetch + Clarissa....” + </p> + <p> + Susy lifted the letter to the lamp to be sure she had read aright. To + fetch Clarissa! Then Ellie’s child was here? Here, under the roof with + them, left to their care? She read on, raging. “She’s so delighted, poor + darling, to know you’re coming. I’ve had to sack her beastly governess for + impertinence, and if it weren’t for you she’d be all alone with a lot of + servants I don’t much trust. So for pity’s sake be good to my child, and + forgive me for leaving her. She thinks I’ve gone to take a cure; and she + knows she’s not to tell her Daddy that I’m away, because it would only + worry him if he thought I was ill. She’s perfectly to be trusted; you’ll + see what a clever angel she is....” And then, at the bottom of the page, + in a last slanting postscript: “Susy darling, if you’ve ever owed me + anything in the way of kindness, you won’t, on your sacred honour, say a + word of this to any one, even to Nick. And I know I can count on you to + rub out the numbers.” + </p> + <p> + Susy sprang up and tossed Mrs. Vanderlyn’s letter into the fire: then she + came slowly back to the chair. There, at her elbow, lay the four fatal + envelopes; and her next affair was to make up her mind what to do with + them. + </p> + <p> + To destroy them on the spot had seemed, at first thought, inevitable: it + might be saving Ellie as well as herself. But such a step seemed to Susy + to involve departure on the morrow, and this in turn involved notifying + Ellie, whose letter she had vainly scanned for an address. Well—perhaps + Clarissa’s nurse would know where one could write to her mother; it was + unlikely that even Ellie would go off without assuring some means of + communication with her child. At any rate, there was nothing to be done + that night: nothing but to work out the details of their flight on the + morrow, and rack her brains to find a substitute for the hospitality they + were rejecting. Susy did not disguise from herself how much she had + counted on the Vanderlyn apartment for the summer: to be able to do so had + singularly simplified the future. She knew Ellie’s largeness of hand, and + had been sure in advance that as long as they were her guests their only + expense would be an occasional present to the servants. And what would the + alternative be? She and Lansing, in their endless talks, had so lived + themselves into the vision of indolent summer days on the lagoon, of + flaming hours on the beach of the Lido, and evenings of music and dreams + on their broad balcony above the Giudecca, that the idea of having to + renounce these joys, and deprive her Nick of them, filled Susy with a + wrath intensified by his having confided in her that when they were + quietly settled in Venice he “meant to write.” Already nascent in her + breast was the fierce resolve of the author’s wife to defend her husband’s + privacy and facilitate his encounters with the Muse. It was abominable, + simply abominable, that Ellie Vanderlyn should have drawn her into such a + trap! + </p> + <p> + Well—there was nothing for it but to make a clean breast of the + whole thing to Nick. The trivial incident of the cigars—how trivial it now + seemed!—showed her the kind of stand he would take, and communicated + to her something of his own uncompromising energy. She would tell him the + whole story in the morning, and try to find a way out with him: Susy’s + faith in her power of finding a way out was inexhaustible. But suddenly + she remembered the adjuration at the end of Mrs. Vanderlyn’s letter: “If + you’re ever owed me anything in the way of kindness, you won’t, on your + sacred honour, say a word to Nick....” + </p> + <p> + It was, of course, exactly what no one had the right to ask of her: if + indeed the word “right”, could be used in any conceivable relation to this + coil of wrongs. But the fact remained that, in the way of kindness, she + did owe much to Ellie; and that this was the first payment her friend had + ever exacted. She found herself, in fact, in exactly the same position as + when Ursula Gillow, using the same argument, had appealed to her to give + up Nick Lansing. Yes, Susy reflected; but then Nelson Vanderlyn had been + kind to her too; and the money Ellie had been so kind with was + Nelson’s.... The queer edifice of Susy’s standards tottered on its base + she honestly didn’t know where fairness lay, as between so much that was + foul. + </p> + <p> + The very depth of her perplexity puzzled her. She had been in “tight + places” before; had indeed been in so few that were not, in one way or + another, constricting! As she looked back on her past it lay before her as + a very network of perpetual concessions and contrivings. But never before + had she had such a sense of being tripped up, gagged and pinioned. The + little misery of the cigars still galled her, and now this big humiliation + superposed itself on the raw wound. Decidedly, the second month of their + honey-moon was beginning cloudily.... + </p> + <p> + She glanced at the enamel led travelling-clock on her dressing table—one + of the few wedding-presents she had consented to accept in kind—and + was startled at the lateness of the hour. In a moment Nick would be + coming; and an uncomfortable sensation in her throat warned her that + through sheer nervousness and exasperation she might blurt out something + ill-advised. The old habit of being always on her guard made her turn once + more to the looking-glass. Her face was pale and haggard; and having, by a + swift and skilful application of cosmetics, increased its appearance of + fatigue, she crossed the room and softly opened her husband’s door. + </p> + <p> + He too sat by a lamp, reading a letter which he put aside as she entered. + His face was grave, and she said to herself that he was certainly still + thinking about the cigars. + </p> + <p> + “I’m very tired, dearest, and my head aches so horribly that I’ve come to + bid you good-night.” Bending over the back of his chair, she laid her arms + on his shoulders. He lifted his hands to clasp hers, but, as he threw his + head back to smile up at her she noticed that his look was still serious, + almost remote. It was as if, for the first time, a faint veil hung between + his eyes and hers. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry: it’s been a long day for you,” he said absently, pressing + his lips to her hands + </p> + <p> + She felt the dreaded twitch in her throat. + </p> + <p> + “Nick!” she burst out, tightening her embrace, “before I go, you’ve got to + swear to me on your honour that you know I should never have taken those + cigars for myself!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment he stared at her, and she stared back at him with equal + gravity; then the same irresistible mirth welled up in both, and Susy’s + compunctions were swept away on a gale of laughter. + </p> + <p> + When she woke the next morning the sun was pouring in between her curtains + of old brocade, and its refraction from the ripples of the Canal was + drawing a network of golden scales across the vaulted ceiling. The maid + had just placed a tray on a slim marquetry table near the bed, and over + the edge of the tray Susy discovered the small serious face of Clarissa + Vanderlyn. At the sight of the little girl all her dormant qualms awoke. + </p> + <p> + Clarissa was just eight, and small for her age: her little round chin was + barely on a level with the tea-service, and her clear brown eyes gazed at + Susy between the ribs of the toast-rack and the single tea-rose in an old + Murano glass. Susy had not seen her for two years, and she seemed, in the + interval, to have passed from a thoughtful infancy to complete ripeness of + feminine experience. She was looking with approval at her mother’s guest. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said in a small sweet voice. “I like you so + very much. I know I’m not to be often with you; but at least you’ll have + an eye on me, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “An eye on you! I shall never want to have it off you, if you say such + nice things to me!” Susy laughed, leaning from her pillows to draw the + little girl up to her side. + </p> + <p> + Clarissa smiled and settled herself down comfortably on the silken + bedspread. “Oh, I know I’m not to be always about, because you’re just + married; but could you see to it that I have my meals regularly?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you poor darling! Don’t you always?” + </p> + <p> + “Not when mother’s away on these cures. The servants don’t always obey me: + you see I’m so little for my age. In a few years, of course, they’ll have + to—even if I don’t grow much,” she added judiciously. She put out + her hand and touched the string of pearls about Susy’s throat. “They’re + small, but they’re very good. I suppose you don’t take the others when you + travel?” + </p> + <p> + “The others? Bless you! I haven’t any others—and never shall have, + probably.” + </p> + <p> + “No other pearls?” + </p> + <p> + “No other jewels at all.” + </p> + <p> + Clarissa stared. “Is that really true?” she asked, as if in the presence + of the unprecedented. + </p> + <p> + “Awfully true,” Susy confessed. “But I think I can make the servants obey + me all the same.” + </p> + <p> + This point seemed to have lost its interest for Clarissa, who was still + gravely scrutinizing her companion. After a while she brought forth + another question. + </p> + <p> + “Did you have to give up all your jewels when you were divorced?” + </p> + <p> + “Divorced—?” Susy threw her head back against the pillows and + laughed. “Why, what are you thinking of? Don’t you remember that I wasn’t + even married the last time you saw me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I do. But that was two years ago.” The little girl wound her arms + about Susy’s neck and leaned against her caressingly. “Are you going to be + soon, then? I’ll promise not to tell if you don’t want me to.” + </p> + <p> + “Going to be divorced? Of course not! What in the world made you think so? + ” + </p> + <p> + “Because you look so awfully happy,” said Clarissa Vanderlyn simply. + </p> + + +<h3>V.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">It</span> was a trifling enough sign, but it had remained in Susy’s mind: that + first morning in Venice Nick had gone out without first coming in to see + her. She had stayed in bed late, chatting with Clarissa, and expecting to + see the door open and her husband appear; and when the child left, and she + had jumped up and looked into Nick’s room, she found it empty, and a line + on his dressing table informed her that he had gone out to send a + telegram. + </p> + <p> + It was lover-like, and even boyish, of him to think it necessary to + explain his absence; but why had he not simply come in and told her! She + instinctively connected the little fact with the shade of preoccupation + she had noticed on his face the night before, when she had gone to his + room and found him absorbed in letter; and while she dressed she had + continued to wonder what was in the letter, and whether the telegram he + had hurried out to send was an answer to it. + </p> + <p> + She had never found out. When he reappeared, handsome and happy as the + morning, he proffered no explanation; and it was part of her life-long + policy not to put uncalled-for questions. It was not only that her jealous + regard for her own freedom was matched by an equal respect for that of + others; she had steered too long among the social reefs and shoals not to + know how narrow is the passage that leads to peace of mind, and she was + determined to keep her little craft in mid-channel. But the incident had + lodged itself in her memory, acquiring a sort of symbolic significance, as + of a turning-point in her relations with her husband. Not that these were + less happy, but that she now beheld them, as she had always formerly + beheld such joys, as an unstable islet in a sea of storms. Her present + bliss was as complete as ever, but it was ringed by the perpetual menace + of all she knew she was hiding from Nick, and of all she suspected him of + hiding from her.... + </p> + <p> + She was thinking of these things one afternoon about three weeks after + their arrival in Venice. It was near sunset, and she sat alone on the + balcony, watching the cross-lights on the water weave their pattern above + the flushed reflection of old palace-basements. She was almost always + alone at that hour. Nick had taken to writing in the afternoons—he + had been as good as his word, and so, apparently, had the Muse and it was + his habit to join his wife only at sunset, for a late row on the lagoon. + She had taken Clarissa, as usual, to the Giardino Pubblico, where that + obliging child had politely but indifferently “played”—Clarissa + joined in the diversions of her age as if conforming to an obsolete + tradition—and had brought her back for a music lesson, echoes of + which now drifted down from a distant window. + </p> + <p> + Susy had come to be extremely thankful for Clarissa. But for the little + girl, her pride in her husband’s industry might have been tinged with a + faint sense of being at times left out and forgotten; and as Nick’s + industry was the completest justification for their being where they were, + and for her having done what she had, she was grateful to Clarissa for + helping her to feel less alone. Clarissa, indeed, represented the other + half of her justification: it was as much on the child’s account as on + Nick’s that Susy had held her tongue, remained in Venice, and slipped out + once a week to post one of Ellie’s numbered letters. A day’s experience of + the Palazzo Vanderlyn had convinced Susy of the impossibility of deserting + Clarissa. Long experience had shown her that the most crowded households + often contain the loneliest nurseries, and that the rich child is exposed + to evils unknown to less pampered infancy; but hitherto such things had + merely been to her one of the uglier bits in the big muddled pattern of + life. Now she found herself feeling where before she had only judged: her + precarious bliss came to her charged with a new weight of pity. + </p> + <p> + She was thinking of these things, and of the approaching date of Ellie + Vanderlyn’s return, and of the searching truths she was storing up for + that lady’s private ear, when she noticed a gondola turning its prow + toward the steps below the balcony. She leaned over, and a tall gentleman + in shabby clothes, glancing up at her as he jumped out, waved a mouldy + Panama in joyful greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Streffy!” she exclaimed as joyfully; and she was half-way down the stairs + when he ran up them followed by his luggage-laden boatman. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right, I suppose?—Ellie said I might come,” he explained + in a shrill cheerful voice; “and I’m to have my same green room with the + parrot-panels, because its furniture is already so frightfully stained + with my hair-wash.” + </p> + <p> + Susy was beaming on him with the deep sense of satisfaction which his + presence always produced in his friends. There was no one in the world, + they all agreed, half as ugly and untidy and delightful as Streffy; no one + who combined such outspoken selfishness with such imperturbable good + humour; no one who knew so well how to make you believe he was being + charming to you when it was you who were being charming to him. + </p> + <p> + In addition to these seductions, of which none estimated the value more + accurately than their possessor, Strefford had for Susy another attraction + of which he was probably unconscious. It was that of being the one rooted + and stable being among the fluid and shifting figures that composed her + world. Susy had always lived among people so denationalized that those one + took for Russians generally turned out to be American, and those one was + inclined to ascribe to New York proved to have originated in Rome or + Bucharest. These cosmopolitan people, who, in countries not their own, + lived in houses as big as hotels, or in hotels where the guests were as + international as the waiters, had inter-married, inter-loved and + inter-divorced each other over the whole face of Europe, and according to + every code that attempts to regulate human ties. Strefford, too, had his + home in this world, but only one of his homes. The other, the one he spoke + of, and probably thought of, least often, was a great dull English + country-house in a northern county, where a life as monotonous and + self-contained as his own was chequered and dispersed had gone on for + generation after generation; and it was the sense of that house, and of + all it typified even to his vagrancy and irreverence, which, coming out + now and then in his talk, or in his attitude toward something or somebody, + gave him a firmer outline and a steadier footing than the other + marionettes in the dance. Superficially so like them all, and so eager to + outdo them in detachment and adaptability, ridiculing the prejudices he + had shaken off, and the people to whom he belonged, he still kept, under + his easy pliancy, the skeleton of old faiths and old fashions. “He talks + every language as well as the rest of us,” Susy had once said of him, “but + at least he talks one language better than the others”; and Strefford, + told of the remark, had laughed, called her an idiot, and been pleased. + </p> + <p> + As he shambled up the stairs with her, arm in arm, she was thinking of + this quality with a new appreciation of its value. Even she and Lansing, + in spite of their unmixed Americanism, their substantial background of + old-fashioned cousinships in New York and Philadelphia, were as mentally + detached, as universally at home, as touts at an International Exhibition. + If they were usually recognized as Americans it was only because they + spoke French so well, and because Nick was too fair to be “foreign,” and + too sharp-featured to be English. But Charlie Strefford was English with + all the strength of an inveterate habit; and something in Susy was slowly + waking to a sense of the beauty of habit. + </p> + <p> + Lounging on the balcony, whither he had followed her without pausing to + remove the stains of travel, Strefford showed himself immensely interested + in the last chapter of her history, greatly pleased at its having been + enacted under his roof, and hugely and flippantly amused at the firmness + with which she refused to let him see Nick till the latter’s daily task + was over. + </p> + <p> + “Writing? Rot! What’s he writing? He’s breaking you in, my dear; that’s + what he’s doing: establishing an alibi. What’ll you bet he’s just sitting + there smoking and reading Le Rire? Let’s go and see.” + </p> + <p> + But Susy was firm. “He’s read me his first chapter: it’s wonderful. It’s a + philosophic romance—rather like Marius, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—I do!” said Strefford, with a laugh that she thought + idiotic. + </p> + <p> + She flushed up like a child. “You’re stupid, Streffy. You forget that Nick + and I don’t need alibis. We’ve got rid of all that hyprocrisy by agreeing + that each will give the other a hand up when either of us wants a change. + We’ve not married to spy and lie, and nag each other; we’ve formed a + partnership for our mutual advantage.” + </p> + <p> + “I see; that’s capital. But how can you be sure that, when Nick wants a + change, you’ll consider it for his advantage to have one?” + </p> + <p> + It was the point that had always secretly tormented Susy; she often + wondered if it equally tormented Nick. + </p> + <p> + “I hope I shall have enough common sense—” she began. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course: common sense is what you’re both bound to base your + argument on, whichever way you argue.” + </p> + <p> + This flash of insight disconcerted her, and she said, a little irritably: + “What should you do then, if you married?—Hush, Streffy! I forbid + you to shout like that—all the gondolas are stopping to look!” + </p> + <p> + “How can I help it?” He rocked backward and forward in his chair. “‘If you + marry,’ she says: ‘Streffy, what have you decided to do if you suddenly + become a raving maniac?’” + </p> + <p> + “I said no such thing. If your uncle and your cousin died, you’d marry + to-morrow; you know you would.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now you’re talking business.” He folded his long arms and leaned over + the balcony, looking down at the dusky ripples streaked with fire. “In + that case I should say: ‘Susan, my dear—Susan—now that by the + merciful intervention of Providence you have become Countess of Altringham + in the peerage of Great Britain, and Baroness Dunsterville and d’Amblay in + the peerages of Ireland and Scotland, I’ll thank you to remember that you + are a member of one of the most ancient houses in the United Kingdom—and + not to get found out.’” + </p> + <p> + Susy laughed. “We know what those warnings mean! I pity my namesake.” + </p> + <p> + He swung about and gave her a quick look out of his small ugly twinkling + eyes. “Is there any other woman in the world named Susan?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so, if the name’s an essential. Even if Nick chucks me, don’t + count on me to carry out that programme. I’ve seen it in practice too + often.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well: as far as I know, everybody’s in perfect health at Altringham.” + He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a fountain pen, a handkerchief over + which it had leaked, and a packet of dishevelled cigarettes. Lighting one, + and restoring the other objects to his pocket, he continued calmly: “Tell + me how did you manage to smooth things over with the Gillows? Ursula was + running amuck when I was in Newport last Summer; it was just when people + were beginning to say that you were going to marry Nick. I was afraid + she’d put a spoke in your wheel; and I hear she put a big cheque in your + hand instead.” + </p> + <p> + Susy was silent. From the first moment of Strefford’s appearance she had + known that in the course of time he would put that question. He was as + inquisitive as a monkey, and when he had made up his mind to find out + anything it was useless to try to divert his attention. After a moment’s + hesitation she said: “I flirted with Fred. It was a bore but he was very + decent.” + </p> + <p> + “He would be—poor Fred. And you got Ursula thoroughly frightened!” + </p> + <p> + “Well—enough. And then luckily that young Nerone Altineri turned up + from Rome: he went over to New York to look for a job as an engineer, and + Ursula made Fred put him in their iron works.” She paused again, and then + added abruptly: “Streffy! If you knew how I hate that kind of thing. I’d + rather have Nick come in now and tell me frankly, as I know he would, that + he’s going off with—” + </p> + <p> + “With Coral Hicks?” Strefford suggested. + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “Poor Coral Hicks! What on earth made you think of the + Hickses?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I caught a glimpse of them the other day at Capri. They’re + cruising about: they said they were coming in here.” + </p> + <p> + “What a nuisance! I do hope they won’t find us out. They were awfully kind + to Nick when he went to India with them, and they’re so simple-minded that + they would expect him to be glad to see them.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford aimed his cigarette-end at a tourist on a puggaree who was + gazing up from his guidebook at the palace. “Ah,” he murmured with + satisfaction, seeing the shot take effect; then he added: “Coral Hicks is + growing up rather pretty.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff—you’re dreaming! That lump of a girl with spectacles and + thick ankles! Poor Mrs. Hicks used to say to Nick: ‘When Mr. Hicks and I + had Coral educated we presumed culture was in greater demand in Europe + than it appears to be.’” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’ll see: that girl’s education won’t interfere with her, once + she’s started. So then: if Nick came in and told you he was going off—” + </p> + <p> + “I should be so thankful if it was with a fright like Coral! But you + know,” she added with a smile, “we’ve agreed that it’s not to happen for a + year.” + </p> + + +<h3>VI.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Susy</span> found Strefford, after his first burst of nonsense, unusually kind + and responsive. The interest he showed in her future and Nick’s seemed to + proceed not so much from his habitual spirit of scientific curiosity as + from simple friendliness. He was privileged to see Nick’s first chapter, + of which he formed so favourable an impression that he spoke sternly to + Susy on the importance of respecting her husband’s working hours; and he + even carried his general benevolence to the length of showing a fatherly + interest in Clarissa Vanderlyn. He was always charming to children, but + fitfully and warily, with an eye on his independence, and on the + possibility of being suddenly bored by them; Susy had never seen him + abandon these precautions so completely as he did with Clarissa. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little devil! Who looks after her when you and Nick are off + together? Do you mean to tell me Ellie sacked the governess and went away + without having anyone to take her place?” + </p> + <p> + “I think she expected me to do it,” said Susy with a touch of asperity. + There were moments when her duty to Clarissa weighed on her somewhat + heavily; whenever she went off alone with Nick she was pursued by the + vision of a little figure waving wistful farewells from the balcony. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s like Ellie: you might have known she’d get an equivalent when + she lent you all this. But I don’t believe she thought you’d be so + conscientious about it.” + </p> + <p> + Susy considered. “I don’t suppose she did; and perhaps I shouldn’t have + been, a year ago. But you see”—she hesitated—“Nick’s so + awfully good: it’s made me look; at a lot of things differently....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang Nick’s goodness! It’s happiness that’s done it, my dear. You’re + just one of the people with whom it happens to agree.” + </p> + <p> + Susy, leaning back, scrutinized between her lashes his crooked ironic + face. + </p> + <p> + “What is it that’s agreeing with you, Streffy? I’ve never seen you so + human. You must be getting an outrageous price for the villa.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford laughed and clapped his hand on his breast-pocket. “I should be + an ass not to: I’ve got a wire here saying they must have it for another + month at any price.” + </p> + <p> + “What luck! I’m so glad. Who are they, by the way?” + </p> + <p> + He drew himself up out of the long chair in which he was disjointedly + lounging, and looked down at her with a smile. “Another couple of + love-sick idiots like you and Nick.... I say, before I spend it all let’s + go out and buy something ripping for Clarissa.” + </p> + <p> + The days passed so quickly and radiantly that, but for her concern for + Clarissa, Susy would hardly have been conscious of her hostess’s + protracted absence. Mrs. Vanderlyn had said: “Four weeks at the latest,” + and the four weeks were over, and she had neither arrived nor written to + explain her non-appearance. She had, in fact, given no sign of life since + her departure, save in the shape of a post-card which had reached Clarissa + the day after the Lansings’ arrival, and in which Mrs. Vanderlyn + instructed her child to be awfully good, and not to forget to feed the + mongoose. Susy noticed that this missive had been posted in Milan. + </p> + <p> + She communicated her apprehensions to Strefford. “I don’t trust that + green-eyed nurse. She’s forever with the younger gondolier; and Clarissa’s + so awfully sharp. I don’t see why Ellie hasn’t come: she was due last + Monday.” + </p> + <p> + Her companion laughed, and something in the sound of his laugh suggested + that he probably knew as much of Ellie’s movements as she did, if not + more. The sense of disgust which the subject always roused in her made her + look away quickly from his tolerant smile. She would have given the world, + at that moment, to have been free to tell Nick what she had learned on the + night of their arrival, and then to have gone away with him, no matter + where. But there was Clarissa—! + </p> + <p> + To fortify herself against the temptation, she resolutely fixed her + thoughts on her husband. Of Nick’s beatitude there could be no doubt. He + adored her, he revelled in Venice, he rejoiced in his work; and concerning + the quality of that work her judgment was as confident as her heart. She + still doubted if he would ever earn a living by what he wrote, but she no + longer doubted that he would write something remarkable. The mere fact + that he was engaged on a philosophic romance, and not a mere novel, seemed + the proof of an intrinsic superiority. And if she had mistrusted her + impartiality Strefford’s approval would have reassured her. Among their + friends Strefford passed as an authority on such matters: in summing him + up his eulogists always added: “And you know he writes.” As a matter of + fact, the paying public had remained cold to his few published pages; but + he lived among the kind of people who confuse taste with talent, and are + impressed by the most artless attempts at literary expression; and though + he affected to disdain their judgment, and his own efforts, Susy knew he + was not sorry to have it said of him: “Oh, if only Streffy had chosen—!” + </p> + <p> + Strefford’s approval of the philosophic romance convinced her that it had + been worth while staying in Venice for Nick’s sake; and if only Ellie + would come back, and carry off Clarissa to St. Moritz or Deauville, the + disagreeable episode on which their happiness was based would vanish like + a cloud, and leave them to complete enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + Ellie did not come; but the Mortimer Hickses did, and Nick Lansing was + assailed by the scruples his wife had foreseen. Strefford, coming back one + evening from the Lido, reported having recognized the huge outline of the + Ibis among the pleasure craft of the outer harbour; and the very next + evening, as the guests of Palazzo Vanderlyn were sipping their ices at + Florian’s, the Hickses loomed up across the Piazza. + </p> + <p> + Susy pleaded in vain with her husband in defence of his privacy. “Remember + you’re here to write, dearest; it’s your duty not to let any one interfere + with that. Why shouldn’t we tell them we’re just leaving!” + </p> + <p> + “Because it’s no use: we’re sure to be always meeting them. And besides, + I’ll be hanged if I’m going to shirk the Hickses. I spent five whole + months on the Ibis, and if they bored me occasionally, India didn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll make them take us to Aquileia anyhow,” said Strefford + philosophically; and the next moment the Hickses were bearing down on the + defenceless trio. + </p> + <p> + They presented a formidable front, not only because of their mere physical + bulk—Mr. and Mrs. Hicks were equally and majestically + three-dimensional—but because they never moved abroad without the + escort of two private secretaries (one for the foreign languages), Mr. + Hicks’s doctor, a maiden lady known as Eldoradder Tooker, who was Mrs. + Hicks’s cousin and stenographer, and finally their daughter, Coral Hicks. + </p> + <p> + Coral Hicks, when Susy had last encountered the party, had been a fat + spectacled school-girl, always lagging behind her parents, with a + reluctant poodle in her wake. Now the poodle had gone, and his mistress + led the procession. The fat school-girl had changed into a young lady of + compact if not graceful outline; a long-handled eyeglass had replaced the + spectacles, and through it, instead of a sullen glare, Miss Coral Hicks + projected on the world a glance at once confident and critical. She looked + so strong and so assured that Susy, taking her measure in a flash, saw + that her position at the head of the procession was not fortuitous, and + murmured inwardly: “Thank goodness she’s not pretty too!” + </p> + <p> + If she was not pretty, she was well-dressed; and if she was overeducated, + she seemed capable, as Strefford had suggested, of carrying off even this + crowning disadvantage. At any rate, she was above disguising it; and + before the whole party had been seated five minutes in front of a fresh + supply of ices (with Eldorada and the secretaries at a table slightly in + the background) she had taken up with Nick the question of exploration in + Mesopotamia. + </p> + <p> + “Queer child, Coral,” he said to Susy that night as they smoked a last + cigarette on their balcony. “She told me this afternoon that she’d + remembered lots of things she heard me say in India. I thought at the time + that she cared only for caramels and picture-puzzles, but it seems she was + listening to everything, and reading all the books she could lay her hands + on; and she got so bitten with Oriental archaeology that she took a course + last year at Bryn Mawr. She means to go to Bagdad next spring, and back by + the Persian plateau and Turkestan.” + </p> + <p> + Susy laughed luxuriously: she was sitting with her hand in Nick’s, while + the late moon—theirs again—rounded its orange-coloured glory + above the belfry of San Giorgio. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Coral! How dreary—” Susy murmured + </p> + <p> + “Dreary? Why? A trip like that is about as well worth doing as anything I + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I meant: dreary to do it without you or me,” she laughed, getting up + lazily to go indoors. A broad band of moonlight, dividing her room onto + two shadowy halves, lay on the painted Venetian bed with its folded-back + sheet, its old damask coverlet and lace-edged pillows. She felt the warmth + of Nick’s enfolding arm and lifted her face to his. + </p> + <p> + The Hickses retained the most tender memory of Nick’s sojourn on the Ibis, + and Susy, moved by their artless pleasure in meeting him again, was glad + he had not followed her advice and tried to elude them. She had always + admired Strefford’s ruthless talent for using and discarding the human + material in his path, but now she began to hope that Nick would not + remember her suggestion that he should mete out that measure to the + Hickses. Even if it had been less pleasant to have a big yacht at their + door during the long golden days and the nights of silver fire, the + Hickses’ admiration for Nick would have made Susy suffer them gladly. She + even began to be aware of a growing liking for them, a liking inspired by + the very characteristics that would once have provoked her disapproval. + Susy had had plenty of training in liking common people with big purses; + in such cases her stock of allowances and extenuations was inexhaustible. + But they had to be successful common people; and the trouble was that the + Hickses, judged by her standards, were failures. It was not only that they + were ridiculous; so, heaven knew, were many of their rivals. But the + Hickses were both ridiculous and unsuccessful. They had consistently + resisted the efforts of the experienced advisers who had first descried + them on the horizon and tried to help them upward. They were always taking + up the wrong people, giving the wrong kind of party, and spending millions + on things that nobody who mattered cared about. They all believed + passionately in “movements” and “causes” and “ideals,” and were always + attended by the exponents of their latest beliefs, always asking you to + hear lectures by haggard women in peplums, and having their portraits + painted by wild people who never turned out to be the fashion. + </p> + <p> + All this would formerly have increased Susy’s contempt; now she found + herself liking the Hickses most for their failings. She was touched by + their simple good faith, their isolation in the midst of all their queer + apostles and parasites, their way of drifting about an alien and + indifferent world in a compactly clinging group of which Eldorada Tooker, + the doctor and the two secretaries formed the outer fringe, and by their + view of themselves as a kind of collective re-incarnation of some past + state of princely culture, symbolised for Mrs. Hicks in what she called + “the court of the Renaissance.” Eldorada, of course, was their chief + prophetess; but even the intensely “bright” and modern young secretaries, + Mr. Beck and Mr. Buttles, showed a touching tendency to share her view, + and spoke of Mr. Hicks as “promoting art,” in the spirit of Pandolfino + celebrating the munificence of the Medicis. + </p> + <p> + “I’m getting really fond of the Hickses; I believe I should be nice to + them even if they were staying at Danieli’s,” Susy said to Strefford. + </p> + <p> + “And even if you owned the yacht?” he answered; and for once his banter + struck her as beside the point. + </p> + <p> + The Ibis carried them, during the endless June days, far and wide along + the enchanted shores; they roamed among the Euganeans, they saw Aquileia + and Pomposa and Ravenna. Their hosts would gladly have taken them farther, + across the Adriatic and on into the golden network of the Aegean; but Susy + resisted this infraction of Nick’s rules, and he himself preferred to + stick to his task. Only now he wrote in the early mornings, so that on + most days they could set out before noon and steam back late to the low + fringe of lights on the lagoon. His work continued to progress, and as + page was added to page Susy obscurely but surely perceived that each one + corresponded with a hidden secretion of energy, the gradual forming within + him of something that might eventually alter both their lives. In what + sense she could not conjecture: she merely felt that the fact of his + having chosen a job and stuck to it, if only through a few rosy summer + weeks, had already given him a new way of saying “Yes” and “No.” + </p> + + +<h3>VII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Of</span> some new ferment at work in him Nick Lansing himself was equally aware. + He was a better judge of the book he was trying to write than either Susy + or Strefford; he knew its weaknesses, its treacheries, its tendency to + slip through his fingers just as he thought his grasp tightest; but he + knew also that at the very moment when it seemed to have failed him it + would suddenly be back, beating its loud wings in his face. + </p> + <p> + He had no delusions as to its commercial value, and had winced more than + he triumphed when Susy produced her allusion to Marius. His book was to be + called The Pageant of Alexander. His imagination had been enchanted by the + idea of picturing the young conqueror’s advance through the fabulous + landscapes of Asia: he liked writing descriptions, and vaguely felt that + under the guise of fiction he could develop his theory of Oriental + influences in Western art at the expense of less learning than if he had + tried to put his ideas into an essay. He knew enough of his subject to + know that he did not know enough to write about it; but he consoled + himself by remembering that Wilhelm Meister has survived many weighty + volumes on aesthetics; and between his moments of self-disgust he took + himself at Susy’s valuation, and found an unmixed joy in his task. + </p> + <p> + Never—no, never!—had he been so boundlessly, so confidently + happy. His hack-work had given him the habit of application, and now habit + wore the glow of inspiration. His previous literary ventures had been + timid and tentative: if this one was growing and strengthening on his + hands, it must be because the conditions were so different. He was at + ease, he was secure, he was satisfied; and he had also, for the first time + since his early youth, before his mother’s death, the sense of having some + one to look after, some one who was his own particular care, and to whom + he was answerable for himself and his actions, as he had never felt + himself answerable to the hurried and indifferent people among whom he had + chosen to live. + </p> + <p> + Susy had the same standards as these people: she spoke their language, + though she understood others, she required their pleasures if she did not + revere their gods. But from the moment that she had become his property he + had built up in himself a conception of her answering to some deep-seated + need of veneration. She was his, he had chosen her, she had taken her + place in the long line of Lansing women who had been loved, honoured, and + probably deceived, by bygone Lansing men. He didn’t pretend to understand + the logic of it; but the fact that she was his wife gave purpose and + continuity to his scattered impulses, and a mysterious glow of + consecration to his task. + </p> + <p> + Once or twice, in the first days of his marriage, he had asked himself + with a slight shiver what would happen if Susy should begin to bore him. + The thing had happened to him with other women as to whom his first + emotions had not differed in intensity from those she inspired. The part + he had played in his previous love-affairs might indeed have been summed + up in the memorable line: “I am the hunter and the prey,” for he had + invariably ceased to be the first only to regard himself as the second. + This experience had never ceased to cause him the liveliest pain, since + his sympathy for his pursuer was only less keen than his commiseration for + himself; but as he was always a little sorrier for himself, he had always + ended by distancing the pursuer. + </p> + <p> + All these pre-natal experiences now seemed utterly inapplicable to the new + man he had become. He could not imagine being bored by Susy—or + trying to escape from her if he were. He could not think of her as an + enemy, or even as an accomplice, since accomplices are potential enemies: + she was some one with whom, by some unheard-of miracle, joys above the + joys of friendship were to be tasted, but who, even through these fleeting + ecstasies, remained simply and securely his friend. + </p> + <p> + These new feelings did not affect his general attitude toward life: they + merely confirmed his faith in its ultimate “jolliness.” Never had he more + thoroughly enjoyed the things he had always enjoyed. A good dinner had + never been as good to him, a beautiful sunset as beautiful; he still + rejoiced in the fact that he appreciated both with an equal acuity. He was + as proud as ever of Susy’s cleverness and freedom from prejudice: she + couldn’t be too “modern” for him now that she was his. He shared to the + full her passionate enjoyment of the present, and all her feverish + eagerness to make it last. He knew when she was thinking of ways of + extending their golden opportunity, and he secretly thought with her, + wondering what new means they could devise. He was thankful that Ellie + Vanderlyn was still absent, and began to hope they might have the palace + to themselves for the remainder of the summer. If they did, he would have + time to finish his book, and Susy to lay up a little interest on their + wedding cheques; and thus their enchanted year might conceivably be + prolonged to two. + </p> + <p> + Late as the season was, their presence and Strefford’s in Venice had + already drawn thither several wandering members of their set. It was + characteristic of these indifferent but agglutinative people that they + could never remain long parted from each other without a dim sense of + uneasiness. Lansing was familiar with the feeling. He had known slight + twinges of it himself, and had often ministered to its qualms in others. + It was hardly stronger than the faint gnawing which recalls the tea-hour + to one who has lunched well and is sure of dining as abundantly; but it + gave a purpose to the purposeless, and helped many hesitating spirits over + the annual difficulty of deciding between Deauville and St. Moritz, + Biarritz and Capri. + </p> + <p> + Nick was not surprised to learn that it was becoming the fashion, that + summer, to pop down to Venice and take a look at the Lansings. Streffy had + set the example, and Streffy’s example was always followed. And then + Susy’s marriage was still a subject of sympathetic speculation. People + knew the story of the wedding cheques, and were interested in seeing how + long they could be made to last. It was going to be the thing, that year, + to help prolong the honey-moon by pressing houses on the adventurous + couple. Before June was over a band of friends were basking with the + Lansings on the Lido. + </p> + <p> + Nick found himself unexpectedly disturbed by their arrival. To avoid + comment and banter he put his book aside and forbade Susy to speak of it, + explaining to her that he needed an interval of rest. His wife instantly + and exaggeratedly adopted this view, guarding him from the temptation to + work as jealously as she had discouraged him from idling; and he was + careful not to let her find out that the change in his habits coincided + with his having reached a difficult point in his book. But though he was + not sorry to stop writing he found himself unexpectedly oppressed by the + weight of his leisure. For the first time communal dawdling had lost its + charm for him; not because his fellow dawdlers were less congenial than of + old, but because in the interval he had known something so immeasurably + better. He had always felt himself to be the superior of his habitual + associates, but now the advantage was too great: really, in a sense, it + was hardly fair to them. + </p> + <p> + He had flattered himself that Susy would share this feeling; but he + perceived with annoyance that the arrival of their friends heightened her + animation. It was as if the inward glow which had given her a new beauty + were now refracted upon her by the presence of the very people they had + come to Venice to avoid. + </p> + <p> + Lansing was vaguely irritated; and when he asked her how she liked being + with their old crowd again his irritation was increased by her answering + with a laugh that she only hoped the poor dears didn’t see too plainly how + they bored her. The patent insincerity of the reply was a shock to + Lansing. He knew that Susy was not really bored, and he understood that + she had simply guessed his feelings and instinctively adopted them: that + henceforth she was always going to think as he thought. To confirm this + fear he said carelessly: “Oh, all the same, it’s rather jolly knocking + about with them again for a bit;” and she answered at once, and with equal + conviction: “Yes, isn’t it? The old darlings—all the same!” + </p> + <p> + A fear of the future again laid its cold touch on Lansing. Susy’s + independence and self-sufficiency had been among her chief attractions; if + she were to turn into an echo their delicious duet ran the risk of + becoming the dullest of monologues. He forgot that five minutes earlier he + had resented her being glad to see their friends, and for a moment he + found himself leaning dizzily over that insoluble riddle of the + sentimental life: that to be differed with is exasperating, and to be + agreed with monotonous. + </p> + <p> + Once more he began to wonder if he were not fundamentally unfitted for the + married state; and was saved from despair only by remembering that Susy’s + subjection to his moods was not likely to last. But even then it never + occurred to him to reflect that his apprehensions were superfluous, since + their tie was avowedly a temporary one. Of the special understanding on + which their marriage had been based not a trace remained in his thoughts + of her; the idea that he or she might ever renounce each other for their + mutual good had long since dwindled to the ghost of an old joke. + </p> + <p> + It was borne in on him, after a week or two of unbroken sociability, that + of all his old friends it was the Mortimer Hickses who bored him the + least. The Hickses had left the Ibis for an apartment in a vast + dilapidated palace near the Canareggio. They had hired the apartment from + a painter (one of their newest discoveries), and they put up + philosophically with the absence of modern conveniences in order to secure + the inestimable advantage of “atmosphere.” In this privileged air they + gathered about them their usual mixed company of quiet studious people and + noisy exponents of new theories, themselves totally unconscious of the + disparity between their different guests, and beamingly convinced that at + last they were seated at the source of wisdom. + </p> + <p> + In old days Lansing would have got half an hour’s amusement, followed by a + long evening of boredom, from the sight of Mrs. Hicks, vast and jewelled, + seated between a quiet-looking professor of archaeology and a large-browed + composer, or the high priest of a new dance-step, while Mr. Hicks, beaming + above his vast white waistcoat, saw to it that the champagne flowed more + abundantly than the talk, and the bright young secretaries industriously + “kept up” with the dizzy cross-current of prophecy and erudition. But a + change had come over Lansing. Hitherto it was in contrast to his own + friends that the Hickses had seemed most insufferable; now it was as an + escape from these same friends that they had become not only sympathetic + but even interesting. It was something, after all, to be with people who + did not regard Venice simply as affording exceptional opportunities for + bathing and adultery, but who were reverently if confusedly aware that + they were in the presence of something unique and ineffable, and + determined to make the utmost of their privilege. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he said to himself one evening, as his eyes wandered, with + somewhat of a convalescent’s simple joy, from one to another of their + large confiding faces, “after all, they’ve got a religion....” The phrase + struck him, in the moment of using it, as indicating a new element in his + own state of mind, and as being, in fact, the key to his new feeling about + the Hickses. Their muddled ardour for great things was related to his own + new view of the universe: the people who felt, however dimly, the wonder + and weight of life must ever after be nearer to him than those to whom it + was estimated solely by one’s balance at the bank. He supposed, on + reflexion, that that was what he meant when he thought of the Hickses as + having “a religion”.... + </p> + <p> + A few days later, his well-being was unexpectedly disturbed by the arrival + of Fred Gillow. Lansing had always felt a tolerant liking for Gillow, a + large smiling silent young man with an intense and serious desire to miss + nothing attainable by one of his fortune and standing. What use he made of + his experiences, Lansing, who had always gone into his own modest + adventures rather thoroughly, had never been able to guess; but he had + always suspected the prodigal Fred of being no more than a well-disguised + looker-on. Now for the first time he began to view him with another eye. + The Gillows were, in fact, the one uneasy point in Nick’s conscience. He + and Susy from the first, had talked of them less than of any other members + of their group: they had tacitly avoided the name from the day on which + Susy had come to Lansing’s lodgings to say that Ursula Gillow had asked + her to renounce him, till that other day, just before their marriage, when + she had met him with the rapturous cry: “Here’s our first wedding present! + Such a thumping big cheque from Fred and Ursula!” + </p> + <p> + Plenty of sympathizing people were ready, Lansing knew, to tell him just + what had happened in the interval between those two dates; but he had + taken care not to ask. He had even affected an initiation so complete that + the friends who burned to enlighten him were discouraged by his so + obviously knowing more than they; and gradually he had worked himself + around to their view, and had taken it for granted that he really did. + </p> + <p> + Now he perceived that he knew nothing at all, and that the “Hullo, old + Fred!” with which Susy hailed Gillow’s arrival might be either the usual + tribal welcome—since they were all “old,” and all nicknamed, in + their private jargon—or a greeting that concealed inscrutable depths + of complicity. + </p> + <p> + Susy was visibly glad to see Gillow; but she was glad of everything just + then, and so glad to show her gladness! The fact disarmed her husband and + made him ashamed of his uneasiness. “You ought to have thought this all + out sooner, or else you ought to chuck thinking of it at all,” was the + sound but ineffectual advice he gave himself on the day after Gillow’s + arrival; and immediately set to work to rethink the whole matter. + </p> + <p> + Fred Gillow showed no consciousness of disturbing any one’s peace of mind. + Day after day he sprawled for hours on the Lido sands, his arms folded + under his head, listening to Streffy’s nonsense and watching Susy between + sleepy lids; but he betrayed no desire to see her alone, or to draw her + into talk apart from the others. More than ever he seemed content to be + the gratified spectator of a costly show got up for his private + entertainment. It was not until he heard her, one morning, grumble a + little at the increasing heat and the menace of mosquitoes, that he said, + quite as if they had talked the matter over long before, and finally + settled it: “The moor will be ready any time after the first of August.” + </p> + <p> + Nick fancied that Susy coloured a little, and drew herself up more + defiantly than usual as she sent a pebble skimming across the dying + ripples at their feet. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be a lot cooler in Scotland,” Fred added, with what, for him, was + an unusual effort at explicitness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shall we?” she retorted gaily; and added with an air of mystery and + importance, pivoting about on her high heels: “Nick’s got work to do here. + It will probably keep us all summer.” + </p> + <p> + “Work? Rot! You’ll die of the smells.” Gillow stared perplexedly skyward + from under his tilted hat-brim; and then brought out, as from the depth of + a rankling grievance: “I thought it was all understood.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” Nick asked his wife that night, as they re-entered Ellie’s cool + drawing-room after a late dinner at the Lido, “did Gillow think it was + understood that we were going to his moor in August?” He was conscious of + the oddness of speaking of their friend by his surname, and reddened at + his blunder. + </p> + <p> + Susy had let her lace cloak slide to her feet, and stood before him in the + faintly-lit room, slim and shimmering-white through black transparencies. + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyebrows carelessly. “I told you long ago he’d asked us + there for August.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t tell me you’d accepted.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled as if he had said something as simple as Fred. “I accepted + everything—from everybody!” + </p> + <p> + What could he answer? It was the very principle on which their bargain had + been struck. And if he were to say: “Ah, but this is different, because + I’m jealous of Gillow,” what light would such an answer shed on his past? + The time for being jealous—if so antiquated an attitude were on any ground + defensible—would have been before his marriage, and before the acceptance + of the bounties which had helped to make it possible. He wondered a little + now that in those days such scruples had not troubled him. His + inconsistency irritated him, and increased his irritation against Gillow. + “I suppose he thinks he owns us!” he grumbled inwardly. + </p> + <p> + He had thrown himself into an armchair, and Susy, advancing across the + shining arabesques of the floor, slid down at his feet, pressed her + slender length against him, and whispered with lifted face and lips close + to his: “We needn’t ever go anywhere you don’t want to.” For once her + submission was sweet, and folding her close he whispered back through his + kiss: “Not there, then.” + </p> + <p> + In her response to his embrace he felt the acquiescence of her whole happy + self in whatever future he decided on, if only it gave them enough of such + moments as this; and as they held each other fast in silence his doubts + and distrust began to seem like a silly injustice. + </p> + <p> + “Let us stay here as long as ever Ellie will let us,” he said, as if the + shadowy walls and shining floors were a magic boundary drawn about his + happiness. + </p> + <p> + She murmured her assent and stood up, stretching her sleepy arm above her + shoulders. “How dreadfully late it is.... Will you unhook me?... Oh, + there’s a telegram.” + </p> + <p> + She picked it up from the table, and tearing it open stared a moment at + the message. “It’s from Ellie. She’s coming to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + She turned to the window and strayed out onto the balcony. Nick followed + her with enlacing arm. The canal below them lay in moonless shadow, barred + with a few lingering lights. A last snatch of gondola-music came from far + off, carried upward on a sultry gust. + </p> + <p> + “Dear old Ellie. All the same... I wish all this belonged to you and me.” + Susy sighed. + </p> + + +<h3>VIII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">It</span> was not Mrs. Vanderlyn’s fault if, after her arrival, her palace seemed + to belong any less to the Lansings. + </p> + <p> + She arrived in a mood of such general benevolence that it was impossible + for Susy, when they finally found themselves alone, to make her view even + her own recent conduct in any but the most benevolent light. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you’d be the veriest angel about it all, darling, because I knew + you’d understand me—especially now,” she declared, her slim hands in + Susy’s, her big eyes (so like Clarissa’s) resplendent with past pleasures + and future plans. + </p> + <p> + The expression of her confidence was unexpectedly distasteful to Susy + Lansing, who had never lent so cold an ear to such warm avowals. She had + always imagined that being happy one’s self made one—as Mrs. + Vanderlyn appeared to assume—more tolerant of the happiness of + others, of however doubtful elements composed; and she was almost ashamed + of responding so languidly to her friend’s outpourings. But she herself + had no desire to confide her bliss to Ellie; and why should not Ellie + observe a similar reticence? + </p> + <p> + “It was all so perfect—you see, dearest, I was meant to be happy,” + that lady continued, as if the possession of so unusual a characteristic + singled her out for special privileges. + </p> + <p> + Susy, with a certain sharpness, responded that she had always supposed we + all were. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, dearest: not governesses and mothers-in-law and companions, and + that sort of people. They wouldn’t know how if they tried. But you and I, + darling—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t consider myself in any way exceptional,” Susy intervened. She + longed to add: “Not in your way, at any rate—” but a few minutes + earlier Mrs. Vanderlyn had told her that the palace was at her disposal + for the rest of the summer, and that she herself was only going to perch + there—if they’d let her!—long enough to gather up her things + and start for St. Moritz. The memory of this announcement had the effect + of curbing Susy’s irony, and of making her shift the conversation to the + safer if scarcely less absorbing topic of the number of day and evening + dresses required for a season at St. Moritz. + </p> + <p> + As she listened to Mrs. Vanderlyn—no less eloquent on this theme + than on the other—Susy began to measure the gulf between her past + and present. “This is the life I used to lead; these are the things I used + to live for,” she thought, as she stood before the outspread glories of + Mrs. Vanderlyn’s wardrobe. Not that she did not still care: she could not + look at Ellie’s laces and silks and furs without picturing herself in + them, and wondering by what new miracle of management she could give + herself the air of being dressed by the same consummate artists. But these + had become minor interests: the past few months had given her a new + perspective, and the thing that most puzzled and disconcerted her about + Ellie was the fact that love and finery and bridge and dining-out were + seemingly all on the same plane to her. + </p> + <p> + The inspection of the dresses lasted a long time, and was marked by many + fluctuations of mood on the part of Mrs. Vanderlyn, who passed from + comparative hopefulness to despair at the total inadequacy of her + wardrobe. It wouldn’t do to go to St. Moritz looking like a frump, and yet + there was no time to get anything sent from Paris, and, whatever she did, + she wasn’t going to show herself in any dowdy re-arrangements done at + home. But suddenly light broke on her, and she clasped her hands for joy. + “Why, Nelson’ll bring them—I’d forgotten all about Nelson! There’ll + be just time if I wire to him at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Nelson going to join you at St. Moritz?” Susy asked, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, no! He’s coming here to pick up Clarissa and take her to some + stuffy cure in Austria with his mother. It’s too lucky: there’s just time + to telegraph him to bring my things. I didn’t mean to wait for him; but it + won’t delay me more than day or two.” + </p> + <p> + Susy’s heart sank. She was not much afraid of Ellie alone, but Ellie and + Nelson together formed an incalculable menace. No one could tell what + spark of truth might dash from their collision. Susy felt that she could + deal with the two dangers separately and successively, but not together + and simultaneously. + </p> + <p> + “But, Ellie, why should you wait for Nelson? I’m certain to find someone + here who’s going to St. Moritz and will take your things if he brings + them. It’s a pity to risk losing your rooms.” + </p> + <p> + This argument appealed for a moment to Mrs. Vanderlyn. “That’s true; they + say all the hotels are jammed. You dear, you’re always so practical!” She + clasped Susy to her scented bosom. “And you know, darling, I’m sure you’ll + be glad to get rid of me—you and Nick! Oh, don’t be hypocritical and + say ‘Nonsense!’ You see, I understand... I used to think of you so often, + you two... during those blessed weeks when we two were alone....” + </p> + <p> + The sudden tears, brimming over Ellie’s lovely eyes, and threatening to + make the blue circles below them run into the adjoining carmine, filled + Susy with compunction. + </p> + <p> + “Poor thing—oh, poor thing!” she thought; and hearing herself called + by Nick, who was waiting to take her out for their usual sunset on the + lagoon, she felt a wave of pity for the deluded creature who would never + taste that highest of imaginable joys. “But all the same,” Susy reflected, + as she hurried down to her husband, “I’m glad I persuaded her not to wait + for Nelson.” + </p> + <p> + Some days had elapsed since Susy and Nick had had a sunset to themselves, + and in the interval Susy had once again learned the superior quality of + the sympathy that held them together. She now viewed all the rest of life + as no more than a show: a jolly show which it would have been a thousand + pities to miss, but which, if the need arose, they could get up and leave + at any moment—provided that they left it together. + </p> + <p> + In the dusk, while their prow slid over inverted palaces, and through the + scent of hidden gardens, she leaned against him and murmured, her mind + returning to the recent scene with Ellie: “Nick, should you hate me + dreadfully if I had no clothes?” + </p> + <p> + Her husband was kindling a cigarette, and the match lit up the grin with + which he answered: “But, my dear, have I ever shown the slightest symptom—?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, rubbish! When a woman says: ‘No clothes,’ she means: ‘Not the right + clothes.’” + </p> + <p> + He took a meditative puff. “Ah, you’ve been going over Ellie’s finery with + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: all those trunks and trunks full. And she finds she’s got nothing + for St. Moritz!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he murmured, drowsy with content, and manifesting but a + languid interest in the subject of Mrs. Vanderlyn’s wardrobe. + </p> + <p> + “Only fancy—she very nearly decided to stop over for Nelson’s + arrival next week, so that he might bring her two or three more trunkfuls + from Paris. But mercifully I’ve managed to persuade her that it would be + foolish to wait.” + </p> + <p> + Susy felt a hardly perceptible shifting of her husband’s lounging body, + and was aware, through all her watchful tentacles, of a widening of his + half-closed lids. + </p> + <p> + “You ‘managed’—?” She fancied he paused on the word ironically. “But + why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why on earth should you try to prevent Ellie’s waiting for Nelson, if for + once in her life she wants to?” + </p> + <p> + Susy, conscious of reddening suddenly, drew back as though the leap of her + tell-tale heart might have penetrated the blue flannel shoulder against + which she leaned. + </p> + <p> + “Really, dearest—!” she murmured; but with a sudden doggedness he + renewed his “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she’s in such a fever to get to St. Moritz—and in such a + funk lest the hotel shouldn’t keep her rooms,” Susy somewhat breathlessly + produced. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—I see.” Nick paused again. “You’re a devoted friend, aren’t + you!” + </p> + <p> + “What an odd question! There’s hardly anyone I’ve reason to be more + devoted to than Ellie,” his wife answered; and she felt his contrite clasp + on her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Darling! No; nor I—. Or more grateful to for leaving us alone in + this heaven.” + </p> + <p> + Dimness had fallen on the waters, and her lifted lips met his bending + ones. + </p> + <p> + Trailing late into dinner that evening, Ellie announced that, after all, + she had decided it was safest to wait for Nelson. + </p> + <p> + “I should simply worry myself ill if I weren’t sure of getting my things,” + she said, in the tone of tender solicitude with which she always discussed + her own difficulties. “After all, people who deny themselves everything do + get warped and bitter, don’t they?” she argued plaintively, her lovely + eyes wandering from one to the other of her assembled friends. + </p> + <p> + Strefford remarked gravely that it was the complaint which had fatally + undermined his own health; and in the laugh that followed the party + drifted into the great vaulted dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t mind your laughing at me, Streffy darling,” his hostess + retorted, pressing his arm against her own; and Susy, receiving the shock + of their rapidly exchanged glance, said to herself, with a sharp twinge of + apprehension: “Of course Streffy knows everything; he showed no surprise + at finding Ellie away when he arrived. And if he knows, what’s to prevent + Nelson’s finding out?” For Strefford, in a mood of mischief, was no more + to be trusted than a malicious child. + </p> + <p> + Susy instantly resolved to risk speaking to him, if need be even betraying + to him the secret of the letters. Only by revealing the depth of her own + danger could she hope to secure his silence. + </p> + <p> + On the balcony, late in the evening, while the others were listening + indoors to the low modulations of a young composer who had embroidered his + fancies on Browning’s “Toccata,” Susy found her chance. Strefford, + unsummoned, had followed her out, and stood silently smoking at her side. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Streff—oh, why should you and I make mysteries to each + other?” she suddenly began. + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed: but do we?” + </p> + <p> + Susy glanced back at the group around the piano. “About Ellie, I mean—and + Nelson.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord! Ellie and Nelson? You call that a mystery? I should as soon apply + the term to one of the million candle-power advertisements that adorn your + native thoroughfares.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes. But—” She stopped again. Had she not tacitly promised + Ellie not to speak? + </p> + <p> + “My Susan, what’s wrong?” Strefford asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know....” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do, then: you’re afraid that, if Ellie and Nelson meet here, + she’ll blurt out something—injudicious.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she won’t!” Susy cried with conviction. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—who will! I trust that superhuman child not to. And you + and I and Nick—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she gasped, interrupting him, “that’s just it. Nick doesn’t know... + doesn’t even suspect. And if he did....” + </p> + <p> + Strefford flung away his cigar and turned to scrutinize her. “I don’t see—hanged + if I do. What business is it of any of us, after all?” + </p> + <p> + That, of course, was the old view that cloaked connivance in an air of + decency. But to Susy it no longer carried conviction, and she hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “If Nick should find out that I know....” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord—doesn’t he know that you know? After all, I suppose it’s + not the first time—” + </p> + <p> + She remained silent. + </p> + <p> + “The first time you’ve received confidences—from married friends. + Does Nick suppose you’ve lived even to your tender age without... Hang it, + what’s come over you, child?” + </p> + <p> + What had, indeed, that she could make clear to him? And yet more than ever + she felt the need of having him securely on her side. Once his word was + pledged, he was safe: otherwise there was no limit to his capacity for + wilful harmfulness. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Streff, you and I know that Ellie hasn’t been away for a cure; + and that if poor Clarissa was sworn to secrecy it was not because it + ‘worries father’ to think that mother needs to take care of her health.” + She paused, hating herself for the ironic note she had tried to sound. + </p> + <p> + “Well—?” he questioned, from the depths of the chair into which he + had sunk. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Nick doesn’t... doesn’t dream of it. If he knew that we owed our + summer here to... to my knowing....” + </p> + <p> + Strefford sat silent: she felt his astonished stare through the darkness. + “Jove!” he said at last, with a low whistle Susy bent over the balustrade, + her heart thumping against the stone rail. + </p> + <p> + “What was left of soul, I wonder—?” the young composer’s voice + shrilled through the open windows. + </p> + <p> + Strefford sank into another silence, from which he roused himself only as + Susy turned back toward the lighted threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, we’ll see it through between us; you and I—and Clarissa,” + he said with his rasping laugh, rising to follow her. He caught her hand + and gave it a short pressure as they re-entered the drawing-room, where + Ellie was saying plaintively to Fred Gillow: “I can never hear that thing + sung without wanting to cry like a baby.” + </p> + + +<h3>IX.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Nelson Vanderlyn</span>, still in his travelling clothes, paused on the threshold + of his own dining-room and surveyed the scene with pardonable + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + He was a short round man, with a grizzled head, small facetious eyes and a + large and credulous smile. + </p> + <p> + At the luncheon table sat his wife, between Charlie Strefford and Nick + Lansing. Next to Strefford, perched on her high chair, Clarissa throned in + infant beauty, while Susy Lansing cut up a peach for her. Through wide + orange awnings the sun slanted in upon the white-clad group. + </p> + <p> + “Well—well—well! So I’ve caught you at it!” cried the happy + father, whose inveterate habit it was to address his wife and friends as + if he had surprised them at an inopportune moment. Stealing up from + behind, he lifted his daughter into the air, while a chorus of “Hello, old + Nelson,” hailed his appearance. + </p> + <p> + It was two or three years since Nick Lansing had seen Mr. Vanderlyn, who + was now the London representative of the big New York bank of Vanderlyn + & Co., and had exchanged his sumptuous house in Fifth Avenue for + another, more sumptuous still, in Mayfair; and the young man looked + curiously and attentively at his host. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Vanderlyn had grown older and stouter, but his face still kept its + look of somewhat worn optimism. He embraced his wife, greeted Susy + affectionately, and distributed cordial hand-grasps to the two men. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo,” he exclaimed, suddenly noticing a pearl and coral trinket hanging + from Clarissa’s neck. “Who’s been giving my daughter jewellery, I’d like + to know!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streffy did—just think, father! Because I said I’d rather have + it than a book, you know,” Clarissa lucidly explained, her arms tight + about her father’s neck, her beaming eyes on Strefford. + </p> + <p> + Nelson Vanderlyn’s own eyes took on the look of shrewdness which came into + them whenever there was a question of material values. + </p> + <p> + “What, Streffy? Caught you at it, eh? Upon my soul-spoiling the brat like + that! You’d no business to, my dear chap-a lovely baroque pearl—” he + protested, with the half-apologetic tone of the rich man embarrassed by + too costly a gift from an impecunious friend. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hadn’t I? Why? Because it’s too good for Clarissa, or too expensive + for me? Of course you daren’t imply the first; and as for me—I’ve + had a windfall, and am blowing it in on the ladies.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford, Lansing had noticed, always used American slang when he was + slightly at a loss, and wished to divert attention from the main point. + But why was he embarrassed, whose attention did he wish to divert, It was + plain that Vanderlyn’s protest had been merely formal: like most of the + wealthy, he had only the dimmest notion of what money represented to the + poor. But it was unusual for Strefford to give any one a present, and + especially an expensive one: perhaps that was what had fixed Vanderlyn’s + attention. + </p> + <p> + “A windfall?” he gaily repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a tiny one: I was offered a thumping rent for my little place at + Como, and dashed over here to squander my millions with the rest of you,” + said Strefford imperturbably. + </p> + <p> + Vanderlyn’s look immediately became interested and sympathetic. “What—the + scene of the honey-moon?” He included Nick and Susy in his friendly smile. + </p> + <p> + “Just so: the reward of virtue. I say, give me a cigar, will you, old man, + I left some awfully good ones at Como, worse luck—and I don’t mind + telling you that Ellie’s no judge of tobacco, and that Nick’s too far gone + in bliss to care what he smokes,” Strefford grumbled, stretching a hand + toward his host’s cigar-case. + </p> + <p> + “I do like jewellery best,” Clarissa murmured, hugging her father. + </p> + <p> + Nelson Vanderlyn’s first word to his wife had been that he had brought her + all her toggery; and she had welcomed him with appropriate enthusiasm. In + fact, to the lookers-on her joy at seeing him seemed rather too patently + in proportion to her satisfaction at getting her clothes. But no such + suspicion appeared to mar Mr. Vanderlyn’s happiness in being, for once, + and for nearly twenty-four hours, under the same roof with his wife and + child. He did not conceal his regret at having promised his mother to join + her the next day; and added, with a wistful glance at Ellie: “If only I’d + known you meant to wait for me!” + </p> + <p> + But being a man of duty, in domestic as well as business affairs, he did + not even consider the possibility of disappointing the exacting old lady + to whom he owed his being. “Mother cares for so few people,” he used to + say, not without a touch of filial pride in the parental exclusiveness, + “that I have to be with her rather more than if she were more sociable”; + and with smiling resignation he gave orders that Clarissa should be ready + to start the next evening. + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile,” he concluded, “we’ll have all the good time that’s + going.” + </p> + <p> + The ladies of the party seemed united in the desire to further this + resolve; and it was settled that as soon as Mr. Vanderlyn had despatched a + hasty luncheon, his wife, Clarissa and Susy should carry him off for a + tea-picnic at Torcello. They did not even suggest that Strefford or Nick + should be of the party, or that any of the other young men of the group + should be summoned; as Susy said, Nelson wanted to go off alone with his + harem. And Lansing and Strefford were left to watch the departure of the + happy Pasha ensconced between attentive beauties. + </p> + <p> + “Well—that’s what you call being married!” Strefford commented, + waving his battered Panama at Clarissa. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I don’t!” Lansing laughed. + </p> + <p> + “He does. But do you know—” Strefford paused and swung about on his + companion—“do you know, when the Rude Awakening comes, I don’t care + to be there. I believe there’ll be some crockery broken.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn’t wonder,” Lansing answered indifferently. He wandered away to + his own room, leaving Strefford to philosophize to his pipe. + </p> + <p> + Lansing had always known about poor old Nelson: who hadn’t, except poor + old Nelson? The case had once seemed amusing because so typical; now, it + rather irritated Nick that Vanderlyn should be so complete an ass. But he + would be off the next day, and so would Ellie, and then, for many + enchanted weeks, the palace would once more be the property of Nick and + Susy. Of all the people who came and went in it, they were the only ones + who appreciated it, or knew how it was meant to be lived in; and that made + it theirs in the only valid sense. In this light it became easy to regard + the Vanderlyns as mere transient intruders. + </p> + <p> + Having relegated them to this convenient distance, Lansing shut himself up + with his book. He had returned to it with fresh energy after his few weeks + of holiday-making, and was determined to finish it quickly. He did not + expect that it would bring in much money; but if it were moderately + successful it might give him an opening in the reviews and magazines, and + in that case he meant to abandon archaeology for novels, since it was only + as a purveyor of fiction that he could count on earning a living for + himself and Susy. + </p> + <p> + Late in the afternoon he laid down his pen and wandered out of doors. He + loved the increasing heat of the Venetian summer, the bruised peach-tints + of worn house-fronts, the enamelling of sunlight on dark green canals, the + smell of half-decayed fruits and flowers thickening the languid air. What + visions he could build, if he dared, of being tucked away with Susy in the + attic of some tumble-down palace, above a jade-green waterway, with a + terrace overhanging a scrap of neglected garden—and cheques from the + publishers dropping in at convenient intervals! Why should they not settle + in Venice if he pulled it off! + </p> + <p> + He found himself before the church of the Scalzi, and pushing open the + leathern door wandered up the nave under the whirl of rose-and-lemon + angels in Tiepolo’s great vault. It was not a church in which one was + likely to run across sight-seers; but he presently remarked a young lady + standing alone near the choir, and assiduously applying her field-glass to + the celestial vortex, from which she occasionally glanced down at an open + manual. + </p> + <p> + As Lansing’s step sounded on the pavement, the young lady, turning, + revealed herself as Miss Hicks. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—you like this too? It’s several centuries out of your line, + though, isn’t it!” Nick asked as they shook hands. + </p> + <p> + She gazed at him gravely. “Why shouldn’t one like things that are out of + one’s line?” she answered; and he agreed, with a laugh, that it was often + an incentive. + </p> + <p> + She continued to fix her grave eyes on him, and after one or two remarks + about the Tiepolos he perceived that she was feeling her way toward a + subject of more personal interest. + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad to see you alone,” she said at length, with an abruptness that + might have seemed awkward had it not been so completely unconscious. She + turned toward a cluster of straw chairs, and signed to Nick to seat + himself beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I seldom do,” she added, with the serious smile that made her heavy face + almost handsome; and she went on, giving him no time to protest: “I wanted + to speak to you—to explain about father’s invitation to go with us + to Persia and Turkestan.” + </p> + <p> + “To explain?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You found the letter when you arrived here just after your marriage, + didn’t you? You must have thought it odd, our asking you just then; but we + hadn’t heard that you were married.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guessed as much: it happened very quietly, and I was remiss about + announcing it, even to old friends.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing frowned. His thoughts had wandered away to the evening when he had + found Mrs. Hicks’s letter in the mail awaiting him at Venice. The day was + associated in his mind with the ridiculous and mortifying episode of the + cigars—the expensive cigars that Susy had wanted to carry away from + Strefford’s villa. Their brief exchange of views on the subject had left + the first blur on the perfect surface of his happiness, and he still felt + an uncomfortable heat at the remembrance. For a few hours the prospect of + life with Susy had seemed unendurable; and it was just at that moment that + he had found the letter from Mrs. Hicks, with its almost irresistible + invitation. If only her daughter had known how nearly he had accepted it! + </p> + <p> + “It was a dreadful temptation,” he said, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “To go with us? Then why—?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, everything’s different now: I’ve got to stick to my writing.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hicks still bent on him the same unblinking scrutiny. “Does that mean + that you’re going to give up your real work?” + </p> + <p> + “My real work—archaeology?” He smiled again to hide a twitch of + regret. “Why, I’m afraid it hardly produces a living wage; and I’ve got to + think of that.” He coloured suddenly, as if suspecting that Miss Hicks + might consider the avowal an opening for he hardly knew what ponderous + offer of aid. The Hicks munificence was too uncalculating not to be + occasionally oppressive. But looking at her again he saw that her eyes + were full of tears. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was your vocation,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “So did I. But life comes along, and upsets things.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I understand. There may be things—worth giving up all other + things for.” + </p> + <p> + “There are!” cried Nick with beaming emphasis. + </p> + <p> + He was conscious that Miss Hicks’s eyes demanded of him even more than + this sweeping affirmation. + </p> + <p> + “But your novel may fail,” she said with her odd harshness. + </p> + <p> + “It may—it probably will,” he agreed. “But if one stopped to + consider such possibilities—” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you have to, with a wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear Coral—how old are you? Not twenty?” he questioned, + laying a brotherly hand on hers. + </p> + <p> + She stared at him a moment, and sprang up clumsily from her chair. “I was + never young... if that’s what you mean. It’s lucky, isn’t it, that my + parents gave me such a grand education? Because, you see, art’s a + wonderful resource.” (She pronounced it RE-source.) + </p> + <p> + He continued to look at her kindly. “You won’t need it—or any other—when + you grow young, as you will some day,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean, when I fall in love? But I am in love—Oh, there’s + Eldorada and Mr. Beck!” She broke off with a jerk, signalling with her + field-glass to the pair who had just appeared at the farther end of the + nave. “I told them that if they’d meet me here to-day I’d try to make them + understand Tiepolo. Because, you see, at home we never really have + understood Tiepolo; and Mr. Beck and Eldorada are the only ones to realize + it. Mr. Buttles simply won’t.” She turned to Lansing and held out her + hand. “I am in love,” she repeated earnestly, “and that’s the reason why I + find art such a RE source.” + </p> + <p> + She restored her eye-glasses, opened her manual, and strode across the + church to the expectant neophytes. + </p> + <p> + Lansing, looking after her, wondered for half a moment whether Mr. Beck + were the object of this apparently unrequited sentiment; then, with a + queer start of introspection, abruptly decided that, no, he certainly was + not. But then—but then—. Well, there was no use in following + up such conjectures.... He turned home-ward, wondering if the picnickers + had already reached Palazzo Vanderlyn. + </p> + <p> + They got back only in time for a late dinner, full of chaff and laughter, + and apparently still enchanted with each other’s society. Nelson Vanderlyn + beamed on his wife, sent his daughter off to bed with a kiss, and leaning + back in his armchair before the fruit-and-flower-laden table, declared + that he’d never spent a jollier day in his life. Susy seemed to come in + for a full share of his approbation, and Lansing thought that Ellie was + unusually demonstrative to her friend. Strefford, from his hostess’s side, + glanced across now and then at young Mrs. Lansing, and his glance seemed + to Lansing a confidential comment on the Vanderlyn raptures. But then + Strefford was always having private jokes with people or about them; and + Lansing was irritated with himself for perpetually suspecting his best + friends of vague complicities at his expense. “If I’m going to be jealous + of Streffy now—!” he concluded with a grimace of self-derision. + </p> + <p> + Certainly Susy looked lovely enough to justify the most irrational pangs. + As a girl she had been, for some people’s taste, a trifle fine-drawn and + sharp-edged; now, to her old lightness of line was added a shadowy bloom, + a sort of star-reflecting depth. Her movements were slower, less angular; + her mouth had a needing droop, her lids seemed weighed down by their + lashes; and then suddenly the old spirit would reveal itself through the + new languor, like the tartness at the core of a sweet fruit. As her + husband looked at her across the flowers and lights he laughed inwardly at + the nothingness of all things else. + </p> + <p> + Vanderlyn and Clarissa left betimes the next morning; and Mrs. Vanderlyn, + who was to start for St. Moritz in the afternoon, devoted her last hours + to anxious conferences with her maid and Susy. Strefford, with Fred Gillow + and the others, had gone for a swim at the Lido, and Lansing seized the + opportunity to get back to his book. + </p> + <p> + The quietness of the great echoing place gave him a foretaste of the + solitude to come. By mid-August all their party would be scattered: the + Hickses off on a cruise to Crete and the Ægean, Fred Gillow on the way to + his moor, Strefford to stay with friends in Capri till his annual visit to + Northumberland in September. One by one the others would follow, and + Lansing and Susy be left alone in the great sun-proof palace, alone under + the star-laden skies, alone with the great orange moons—still theirs!—above + the bell-tower of San Giorgio. The novel, in that blessed quiet, would + unfold itself as harmoniously as his dreams. + </p> + <p> + He wrote on, forgetful of the passing hours, till the door opened and he + heard a step behind him. The next moment two hands were clasped over his + eyes, and the air was full of Mrs. Vanderlyn’s last new scent. + </p> + <p> + “You dear thing—I’m just off, you know,” she said. “Susy told me you + were working, and I forbade her to call you down. She and Streffy are + waiting to take me to the station, and I’ve run up to say good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + “Ellie, dear!” Full of compunction, Lansing pushed aside his writing and + started up; but she pressed him back into his seat. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I should never forgive myself if I’d interrupted you. I oughtn’t + to have come up; Susy didn’t want me to. But I had to tell you, you + dear.... I had to thank you...” + </p> + <p> + In her dark travelling dress and hat, so discreetly conspicuous, so + negligent and so studied, with a veil masking her paint, and gloves hiding + her rings, she looked younger, simpler, more natural than he had ever seen + her. Poor Ellie such a good fellow, after all! + </p> + <p> + “To thank me? For what? For being so happy here?” he laughed, taking her + hands. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, laughed back, and flung her arms about his neck. + </p> + <p> + “For helping me to be so happy elsewhere—you and Susy, you two + blessed darlings!” she cried, with a kiss on his cheek. + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met for a second; then her arms slipped slowly downward, + dropping to her sides. Lansing sat before her like a stone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she gasped, “why do you stare so? Didn’t you know...?” + </p> + <p> + They heard Strefford’s shrill voice on the stairs. “Ellie, where the deuce + are you? Susy’s in the gondola. You’ll miss the train!” + </p> + <p> + Lansing stood up and caught Mrs. Vanderlyn by the wrist. “What do you + mean? What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing... But you were both such bricks about the letters.... And + when Nelson was here, too.... Nick, don’t hurt my wrist so! I must run!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped her hand and stood motionless, staring after her and listening + to the click of her high heels as she fled across the room and along the + echoing corridor. + </p> + <p> + When he turned back to the table he noticed that a small morocco case had + fallen among his papers. In falling it had opened, and before him, on the + pale velvet lining, lay a scarf-pin set with a perfect pearl. He picked + the box up, and was about to hasten after Mrs. Vanderlyn—it was so + like her to shed jewels on her path!—when he noticed his own + initials on the cover. + </p> + <p> + He dropped the box as if it had been a hot coal, and sat for a long while + gazing at the gold N. L., which seemed to have burnt itself into his + flesh. + </p> + <p> + At last he roused himself and stood up. + </p> + + +<h3>X.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">With</span> a sigh of relief Susy drew the pins from her hat and threw herself + down on the lounge. + </p> + <p> + The ordeal she had dreaded was over, and Mr. and Mrs. Vanderlyn had safely + gone their several ways. Poor Ellie was not noted for prudence, and when + life smiled on her she was given to betraying her gratitude too openly; + but thanks to Susy’s vigilance (and, no doubt, to Strefford’s tacit + co-operation), the dreaded twenty-four hours were happily over. Nelson + Vanderlyn had departed without a shadow on his brow, and though Ellie’s, + when she came down from bidding Nick good-bye, had seemed to Susy less + serene than usual, she became her normal self as soon as it was discovered + that the red morocco bag with her jewel-box was missing. Before it had + been discovered in the depths of the gondola they had reached the station, + and there was just time to thrust her into her “sleeper,” from which she + was seen to wave an unperturbed farewell to her friends. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, we’ve been it through,” Strefford remarked with a deep + breath as the St. Moritz express rolled away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Susy sighed in mute complicity; then, as if to cover her + self-betrayal: “Poor darling, she does so like what she likes!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—even if it’s a rotten bounder,” Strefford agreed. + </p> + <p> + “A rotten bounder? Why, I thought—” + </p> + <p> + “That it was still young Davenant? Lord, no—not for the last six + months. Didn’t she tell you—?” + </p> + <p> + Susy felt herself redden. “I didn’t ask her—” + </p> + <p> + “Ask her? You mean you didn’t let her!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t let her. And I don’t let you,” Susy added sharply, as he helped + her into the gondola. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right: I daresay you’re right. It simplifies things,” Strefford + placidly acquiesced. + </p> + <p> + She made no answer, and in silence they glided homeward. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the quiet of her own room, Susy lay and pondered on the distance + she had travelled during the last year. Strefford had read her mind with + his usual penetration. It was true that there had been a time when she + would have thought it perfectly natural that Ellie should tell her + everything; that the name of young Davenant’s successor should be confided + to her as a matter of course. Apparently even Ellie had been obscurely + aware of the change, for after a first attempt to force her confidences on + Susy she had contented herself with vague expressions of gratitude, + allusive smiles and sighs, and the pretty “surprise” of the sapphire + bangle slipped onto her friend’s wrist in the act of their farewell + embrace. + </p> + <p> + The bangle was extremely handsome. Susy, who had an auctioneer’s eye for + values, knew to a fraction the worth of those deep convex stones + alternating with small emeralds and brilliants. She was glad to own the + bracelet, and enchanted with the effect it produced on her slim wrist; + yet, even while admiring it, and rejoicing that it was hers, she had + already transmuted it into specie, and reckoned just how far it would go + toward the paying of domestic necessities. For whatever came to her now + interested her only as something more to be offered up to Nick. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Nick came in. Dusk had fallen, and she could not see + his face; but something in the jerk of the door-handle roused her + ever-wakeful apprehension. She hurried toward him with outstretched wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Look, dearest—wasn’t it too darling of Ellie?” + </p> + <p> + She pressed the button of the lamp that lit her dressing-table, and her + husband’s face started unfamiliarly out of the twilight. She slipped off + the bracelet and held it up to him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can go you one better,” he said with a laugh; and pulling a morocco + case from his pocket he flung it down among the scent-bottles. + </p> + <p> + Susy opened the case automatically, staring at the pearl because she was + afraid to look again at Nick. + </p> + <p> + “Ellie—gave you this?” she asked at length. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She gave me this.” There was a pause. “Would you mind telling me,” + Lansing continued in the same dead-level tone, “exactly for what services + we’ve both been so handsomely paid?” + </p> + <p> + “The pearl is beautiful,” Susy murmured, to gain time, while her head spun + round with unimaginable terrors. + </p> + <p> + “So are your sapphires; though, on closer examination, my services would + appear to have been valued rather higher than yours. Would you be kind + enough to tell me just what they were?” + </p> + <p> + Susy threw her head back and looked at him. “What on earth are you talking + about, Nick! Why shouldn’t Ellie have given us these things? Do you forget + that it’s like our giving her a pen-wiper or a button-hook? What is it you + are trying to suggest?” + </p> + <p> + It had cost her a considerable effort to hold his eyes while she put the + questions. Something had happened between him and Ellie, that was + evident—one of those hideous unforeseeable blunders that may cause one’s + cleverest plans to crumble at a stroke; and again Susy shuddered at the + frailty of her bliss. But her old training stood her in good stead. There + had been more than one moment in her past when everything—somebody else’s + everything—had depended on her keeping a cool head and a clear glance. It + would have been a wonder if now, when she felt her own everything at + stake, she had not been able to put up as good a defence. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” she repeated impatiently, as Lansing continued to remain + silent. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I’m here to ask,” he returned, keeping his eyes as steady as + she kept hers. “There’s no reason on earth, as you say, why Ellie + shouldn’t give us presents—as expensive presents as she likes; and + the pearl is a beauty. All I ask is: for what specific services were they + given? For, allowing for all the absence of scruple that marks the + intercourse of truly civilized people, you’ll probably agree that there + are limits; at least up to now there have been limits....” + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t know what you mean. I suppose Ellie wanted to show that + she was grateful to us for looking after Clarissa.” + </p> + <p> + “But she gave us all this in exchange for that, didn’t she?” he suggested, + with a sweep of the hand around the beautiful shadowy room. “A whole + summer of it if we choose.” + </p> + <p> + Susy smiled. “Apparently she didn’t think that enough.” + </p> + <p> + “What a doting mother! It shows the store she sets upon her child.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t you set store upon Clarissa?” + </p> + <p> + “Clarissa is exquisite; but her mother didn’t mention her in offering me + this recompense.” + </p> + <p> + Susy lifted her head again. “Whom did she mention?” + </p> + <p> + “Vanderlyn,” said Lansing. + </p> + <p> + “Vanderlyn? Nelson?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—and some letters... something about letters.... What is it, my + dear, that you and I have been hired to hide from Vanderlyn? Because I + should like to know,” Nick broke out savagely, “if we’ve been adequately + paid.” + </p> + <p> + Susy was silent: she needed time to reckon up her forces, and study her + next move; and her brain was in such a whirl of fear that she could at + last only retort: “What is it that Ellie said to you?” + </p> + <p> + Lansing laughed again. “That’s just what you’d like to find out—isn’t + it?—in order to know the line to take in making your explanation.” + </p> + <p> + The sneer had an effect that he could not have foreseen, and that Susy + herself had not expected. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t—don’t let us speak to each other like that!” she cried; + and sinking down by the dressing-table she hid her face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her, now, that nothing mattered except that their love for + each other, their faith in each other, should be saved from some + unhealable hurt. She was willing to tell Nick everything—she wanted + to tell him everything—if only she could be sure of reaching a + responsive chord in him. But the scene of the cigars came back to her, and + benumbed her. If only she could make him see that nothing was of any + account as long as they continued to love each other! + </p> + <p> + His touch fell compassionately on her shoulder. “Poor child—don’t,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + Their eyes met, but his expression checked the smile breaking through her + tears. “Don’t you see,” he continued, “that we’ve got to have this thing + out?” + </p> + <p> + She continued to stare at him through a prism of tears. “I can’t—while + you stand up like that,” she stammered, childishly. + </p> + <p> + She had cowered down again into a corner of the lounge; but Lansing did + not seat himself at her side. He took a chair facing her, like a caller on + the farther side of a stately tea-tray. “Will that do?” he asked with a + stiff smile, as if to humour her. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will do—as long as you’re not you!” + </p> + <p> + “Not me?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head wearily. “What’s the use? You accept things + theoretically—and then when they happen....” + </p> + <p> + “What things? What has happened!” + </p> + <p> + A sudden impatience mastered her. What did he suppose, after all—? + “But you know all about Ellie. We used to talk about her often enough in + old times,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ellie and young Davenant?” + </p> + <p> + “Young Davenant; or the others....” + </p> + <p> + “Or the others. But what business was it of ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s just what I think!” she cried, springing up with an explosion + of relief. Lansing stood up also, but there was no answering light in his + face. + </p> + <p> + “We’re outside of all that; we’ve nothing to do with it, have we?” he + pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what on earth is the meaning of Ellie’s gratitude? Gratitude for + what we’ve done about some letters—and about Vanderlyn?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not you,” Susy cried, involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + “Not I? Then you?” He came close and took her by the wrist. “Answer me. + Have you been mixed up in some dirty business of Ellie’s?” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. She found it impossible to speak, with that burning + grasp on the wrist where the bangle had been. At length he let her go and + moved away. “Answer,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told you it was my business and not yours.” + </p> + <p> + He received this in silence; then he questioned: “You’ve been sending + letters for her, I suppose? To whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why do you torment me? Nelson was not supposed to know that she’d + been away. She left me the letters to post to him once a week. I found + them here the night we arrived.... It was the price—for this. Oh, + Nick, say it’s been worth it—say at least that it’s been worth it!” she + implored him. + </p> + <p> + He stood motionless, unresponding. One hand drummed on the corner of her + dressing-table, making the jewelled bangle dance. + </p> + <p> + “How many letters?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know... four... five... What does it matter?” + </p> + <p> + “And once a week, for six weeks—?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And you took it all as a matter of course?” + </p> + <p> + “No: I hated it. But what could I do?” + </p> + <p> + “What could you do?” + </p> + <p> + “When our being together depended on it? Oh, Nick, how could you think I’d + give you up?” + </p> + <p> + “Give me up?” he echoed. + </p> + <p> + “Well—doesn’t our being together depend on—on what we can get + out of people? And hasn’t there always got to be some give-and-take? Did + you ever in your life get anything for nothing?” she cried with sudden + exasperation. “You’ve lived among these people as long as I have; I + suppose it’s not the first time—” + </p> + <p> + “By God, but it is,” he exclaimed, flushing. “And that’s the difference—the + fundamental difference.” + </p> + <p> + “The difference!” + </p> + <p> + “Between you and me. I’ve never in my life done people’s dirty work for + them—least of all for favours in return. I suppose you guessed it, + or you wouldn’t have hidden this beastly business from me.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rose to Susy’s temples also. Yes, she had guessed it; + instinctively, from the day she had first visited him in his bare + lodgings, she had been aware of his stricter standard. But how could she + tell him that under his influence her standard had become stricter too, + and that it was as much to hide her humiliation from herself as to escape + his anger that she had held her tongue? + </p> + <p> + “You knew I wouldn’t have stayed here another day if I’d known,” he + continued. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: and then where in the world should we have gone?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that—in one way or another—what you call + give-and-take is the price of our remaining together?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—isn’t it,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “Then we’d better part, hadn’t we?” + </p> + <p> + He spoke in a low tone, thoughtfully and deliberately, as if this had been + the inevitable conclusion to which their passionate argument had led. + </p> + <p> + Susy made no answer. For a moment she ceased to be conscious of the causes + of what had happened; the thing itself seemed to have smothered her under + its ruins. + </p> + <p> + Nick wandered away from the dressing-table and stood gazing out of the + window at the darkening canal flecked with lights. She looked at his back, + and wondered what would happen if she were to go up to him and fling her + arms about him. But even if her touch could have broken the spell, she was + not sure she would have chosen that way of breaking it. Beneath her + speechless anguish there burned the half-conscious sense of having been + unfairly treated. When they had entered into their queer compact, Nick had + known as well as she on what compromises and concessions the life they + were to live together must be based. That he should have forgotten it + seemed so unbelievable that she wondered, with a new leap of fear, if he + were using the wretched Ellie’s indiscretion as a means of escape from a + tie already wearied of. Suddenly she raised her head with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “After all—you were right when you wanted me to be your mistress.” + </p> + <p> + He turned on her with an astonished stare. “You—my mistress?” + </p> + <p> + Through all her pain she thrilled with pride at the discovery that such a + possibility had long since become unthinkable to him. But she insisted. + “That day at the Fulmers’—have you forgotten? When you said it would + be sheer madness for us to marry.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing stood leaning in the embrasure of the window, his eyes fixed on + the mosaic volutes of the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I was right enough when I said it would be sheer madness for us to + marry,” he rejoined at length. + </p> + <p> + She sprang up trembling. “Well, that’s easily settled. Our compact—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that compact—” he interrupted her with an impatient laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you asking me to carry it out now?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I said we’d better part?” He paused. “But the compact—I’d + almost forgotten it—was to the effect, wasn’t it, that we were to + give each other a helping hand if either of us had a better chance? The + thing was absurd, of course; a mere joke; from my point of view, at least. + I shall never want any better chance... any other chance....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nick, oh, Nick... but then....” She was close to him, his face + looming down through her tears; but he put her back. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been easy enough, wouldn’t it,” he rejoined, “if we’d been + as detachable as all that? As it is, it’s going to hurt horribly. But + talking it over won’t help. You were right just now when you asked how + else we were going to live. We’re born parasites, both, I suppose, or we’d + have found out some way long ago. But I find there are things I might put + up with for myself, at a pinch—and should, probably, in time that I + can’t let you put up with for me... ever.... Those cigars at Como: do you + suppose I didn’t know it was for me? And this too? Well, it won’t do... it + won’t do....” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, as if his courage failed him; and she moaned out: “But your + writing—if your book’s a success....” + </p> + <p> + “My poor Susy—that’s all part of the humbug. We both know that my + sort of writing will never pay. And what’s the alternative except more of + the same kind of baseness? And getting more and more blunted to it? At + least, till now, I’ve minded certain things; I don’t want to go on till I + find myself taking them for granted.” + </p> + <p> + She reached out a timid hand. “But you needn’t ever, dear... if you’d only + leave it to me....” + </p> + <p> + He drew back sharply. “That seems simple to you, I suppose? Well, men are + different.” He walked toward the dressing-table and glanced at the little + enamelled clock which had been one of her wedding-presents. + </p> + <p> + “Time to dress, isn’t it? Shall you mind if I leave you to dine with + Streffy, and whoever else is coming? I’d rather like a long tramp, and no + more talking just at present except with myself.” + </p> + <p> + He passed her by and walked rapidly out of the room. Susy stood + motionless, unable to lift a detaining hand or to find a final word of + appeal. On her disordered dressing-table Mrs. Vanderlyn’s gifts glittered + in the rosy lamp-light. + </p> + <p> + Yes: men were different, as he said. + </p> + + +<h3>XI.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">But</span> there were necessary accommodations, there always had been; Nick in + old times, had been the first to own it.... How they had laughed at the + Perpendicular People, the people who went by on the other side (since you + couldn’t be a good Samaritan without stooping over and poking into heaps + of you didn’t know what)! And now Nick had suddenly become + perpendicular.... + </p> + <p> + Susy, that evening, at the head of the dinner table, saw—in the + breaks between her scudding thoughts—the nauseatingly familiar faces + of the people she called her friends: Strefford, Fred Gillow, a giggling + fool of a young Breckenridge, of their New York group, who had arrived + that day, and Prince Nerone Altineri, Ursula’s Prince, who, in Ursula’s + absence at a tiresome cure, had, quite simply and naturally, preferred to + join her husband at Venice. Susy looked from one to the other of them, as + if with newly-opened eyes, and wondered what life would be like with no + faces but such as theirs to furnish it.... + </p> + <p> + Ah, Nick had become perpendicular!... After all, most people went through + life making a given set of gestures, like dance-steps learned in advance. + If your dancing manual told you at a given time to be perpendicular, you + had to be, automatically—and that was Nick! + </p> + <p> + “But what on earth, Susy,” Gillow’s puzzled voice suddenly came to her as + from immeasurable distances, “Are you going to do in this beastly stifling + hole for the rest of the summer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Nick, my dear fellow,” Strefford answered for her; and: “By the way, + where is Nick—if one may ask?” young Breckenridge interposed, + glancing up to take belated note of his host’s absence. + </p> + <p> + “Dining out,” said Susy glibly. “People turned up: blighting bores that I + wouldn’t have dared to inflict on you.” How easily the old familiar + fibbing came to her! + </p> + <p> + “The kind to whom you say, ‘Now mind you look me up’; and then spend the + rest of your life dodging-like our good Hickses,” Strefford amplified. + </p> + <p> + The Hickses—but, of course, Nick was with the Hickses! It went + through Susy like a knife, and the dinner she had so lightly fibbed became + a hateful truth. She said to herself feverishly: “I’ll call him up there + after dinner—and then he will feel silly”—but only to remember + that the Hickses, in their mediaeval setting, had of course sternly denied + themselves a telephone. + </p> + <p> + The fact of Nick’s temporary inaccessibility—since she was now + convinced that he was really at the Hickses’—turned her distress to + a mocking irritation. Ah, that was where he carried his principles, his + standards, or whatever he called the new set of rules he had suddenly + begun to apply to the old game! It was stupid of her not to have guessed + it at once. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Hickses—Nick adores them, you know. He’s going to marry + Coral next,” she laughed out, flashing the joke around the table with all + her practiced flippancy. + </p> + <p> + “Lord!” grasped Gillow, inarticulate: while the Prince displayed the + unsurprised smile which Susy accused him of practicing every morning with + his Mueller exercises. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Susy felt Strefford’s eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with me? Too much rouge?” she asked, passing her arm in + his as they left the table. + </p> + <p> + “No: too little. Look at yourself,” he answered in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in these cadaverous old looking-glasses-everybody looks fished up + from the canal!” + </p> + <p> + She jerked away from him to spin down the long floor of the sala, hands on + hips, whistling a rag-time tune. The Prince and young Breckenridge caught + her up, and she spun back with the latter, while Gillow—it was believed to + be his sole accomplishment—snapped his fingers in simulation of bones, and + shuffled after the couple on stamping feet. + </p> + <p> + Susy sank down on a sofa near the window, fanning herself with a floating + scarf, and the men foraged for cigarettes, and rang for the gondoliers, + who came in with trays of cooling drinks. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what next—this ain’t all, is it?” Gillow presently queried, + from the divan where he lolled half-asleep with dripping brow. Fred + Gillow, like Nature, abhorred a void, and it was inconceivable to him that + every hour of man’s rational existence should not furnish a motive for + getting up and going somewhere else. Young Breckenridge, who took the same + view, and the Prince, who earnestly desired to, reminded the company that + somebody they knew was giving a dance that night at the Lido. + </p> + <p> + Strefford vetoed the Lido, on the ground that he’d just come back from + there, and proposed that they should go out on foot for a change. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? What fun!” Susy was up in an instant. “Let’s pay somebody a + surprise visit—I don’t know who! Streffy, Prince, can’t you think of + somebody who’d be particularly annoyed by our arrival?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the list’s too long. Let’s start, and choose our victim on the way,” + Strefford suggested. + </p> + <p> + Susy ran to her room for a light cloak, and without changing her + high-heeled satin slippers went out with the four men. There was no moon—thank + heaven there was no moon!—but the stars hung over them as close as + fruit, and secret fragrances dropped on them from garden-walls. Susy’s + heart tightened with memories of Como. + </p> + <p> + They wandered on, laughing and dawdling, and yielding to the drifting + whims of aimless people. Presently someone proposed taking a nearer look + at the facade of San Giorgio Maggiore, and they hailed a gondola and were + rowed out through the bobbing lanterns and twanging guitar-strings. When + they landed again, Gillow, always acutely bored by scenery, and + particularly resentful of midnight aesthetics, suggested a night club near + at hand, which was said to be jolly. The Prince warmly supported this + proposal; but on Susy’s curt refusal they started their rambling again, + circuitously threading the vague dark lanes and making for the Piazza and + Florian’s ices. Suddenly, at a calle-corner, unfamiliar and yet somehow + known to her, Susy paused to stare about her with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “But the Hickses—surely that’s their palace? And the windows all lit + up! They must be giving a party! Oh, do let’s go up and surprise them!” + The idea struck her as one of the drollest that she had ever originated, + and she wondered that her companions should respond so languidly. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t see anything very thrilling in surprising the Hickses,” Gillow + protested, defrauded of possible excitements; and Strefford added: “It + would surprise me more than them if I went.” + </p> + <p> + But Susy insisted feverishly: “You don’t know. It may be awfully exciting! + I have an idea that Coral’s announcing her engagement—her engagement + to Nick! Come, give me a hand, Streff—and you the other, Fred-” she + began to hum the first bars of Donna Anna’s entrance in Don Giovanni. + “Pity I haven’t got a black cloak and a mask....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, your face will do,” said Strefford, laying his hand on her arm. + </p> + <p> + She drew back, flushing crimson. Breckenridge and the Prince had sprung on + ahead, and Gillow, lumbering after them, was already halfway up the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “My face? My face? What’s the matter with my face? Do you know any reason + why I shouldn’t go to the Hickses to-night?” Susy broke out in sudden + wrath. + </p> + <p> + “None whatever; except that if you do it will bore me to death,” Strefford + returned, with serenity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in that case—!” + </p> + <p> + “No; come on. I hear those fools banging on the door already.” He caught + her by the hand, and they started up the stairway. But on the first + landing she paused, twisted her hand out of his, and without a word, + without a conscious thought, dashed down the long flight, across the great + resounding vestibule and out into the darkness of the calle. + </p> + <p> + Strefford caught up with her, and they stood a moment silent in the night. + </p> + <p> + “Susy—what the devil’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “The matter? Can’t you see? That I’m tired, that I’ve got a splitting + headache—that you bore me to death, one and all of you!” She turned + and laid a deprecating hand on his arm. “Streffy, old dear, don’t mind me: + but for God’s sake find a gondola and send me home.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone.” + </p> + <p> + It was never any concern of Streff’s if people wanted to do things he did + not understand, and she knew that she could count on his obedience. They + walked on in silence to the next canal, and he picked up a passing gondola + and put her in it. + </p> + <p> + “Now go and amuse yourself,” she called after him, as the boat shot under + the nearest bridge. Anything, anything, to be alone, away from the folly + and futility that would be all she had left if Nick were to drop out of + her life.... + </p> + <p> + “But perhaps he has dropped already—dropped for good,” she thought + as she set her foot on the Vanderlyn threshold. + </p> + <p> + The short summer night was already growing transparent: a new born breeze + stirred the soiled surface of the water and sent it lapping freshly + against the old palace doorways. Nearly two o’clock! Nick had no doubt + come back long ago. Susy hurried up the stairs, reassured by the mere + thought of his nearness. She knew that when their eyes and their lips met + it would be impossible for anything to keep them apart. + </p> + <p> + The gondolier dozing on the landing roused himself to receive her, and to + proffer two envelopes. The upper one was a telegram for Strefford: she + threw it down again and paused under the lantern hanging from the painted + vault, the other envelope in her hand. The address it bore was in Nick’s + writing. “When did the signore leave this for me? Has he gone out again?” + </p> + <p> + Gone out again? But the signore had not come in since dinner: of that the + gondolier was positive, as he had been on duty all the evening. A boy had + brought the letter—an unknown boy: he had left it without waiting. + It must have been about half an hour after the signora had herself gone + out with her guests. + </p> + <p> + Susy, hardly hearing him, fled on to her own room, and there, beside the + very lamp which, two months before, had illuminated Ellie Vanderlyn’s + fatal letter, she opened Nick’s. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t think me hard on you, dear; but I’ve got to work this thing out by + myself. The sooner the better—don’t you agree? So I’m taking the express + to Milan presently. You’ll get a proper letter in a day or two. I wish I + could think, now, of something to say that would show you I’m not a brute—but + I can’t. N. L.” + </p> + <p> + There was not much of the night left in which to sleep, even had a + semblance of sleep been achievable. The letter fell from Susy’s hands, and + she crept out onto the balcony and cowered there, her forehead pressed + against the balustrade, the dawn wind stirring in her thin laces. Through + her closed eyelids and the tightly-clenched fingers pressed against them, + she felt the penetration of the growing light, the relentless advance of + another day—a day without purpose and without meaning—a day + without Nick. At length she dropped her hands, and staring from dry lids + saw a rim of fire above the roofs across the Grand Canal. She sprang up, + ran back into her room, and dragging the heavy curtains shut across the + windows, stumbled over in the darkness to the lounge and fell among its + pillows-face downward—groping, delving for a deeper night.... + </p> + <p> + She started up, stiff and aching, to see a golden wedge of sun on the + floor at her feet. She had slept, then—was it possible?—it + must be eight or nine o’clock already! She had slept—slept like a + drunkard—with that letter on the table at her elbow! Ah, now she + remembered—she had dreamed that the letter was a dream! But there, + inexorably, it lay; and she picked it up, and slowly, painfully re-read + it. Then she tore it into shreds hunted for a match, and kneeling before + the empty hearth, as though she were accomplishing some funeral rite, she + burnt every shred of it to ashes. Nick would thank her for that some day! + </p> + <p> + After a bath and a hurried toilet she began to be aware of feeling younger + and more hopeful. After all, Nick had merely said that he was going away + for “a day or two.” And the letter was not cruel: there were tender things + in it, showing through the curt words. She smiled at herself a little + stiffly in the glass, put a dash of red on her colourless lips, and rang + for the maid. + </p> + <p> + “Coffee, Giovanna, please; and will you tell Mr. Strefford that I should + like to see him presently.” + </p> + <p> + If Nick really kept to his intention of staying away for a few days she + must trump up some explanation of his absence; but her mind refused to + work, and the only thing she could think of was to take Strefford into her + confidence. She knew that he could be trusted in a real difficulty; his + impish malice transformed itself into a resourceful ingenuity when his + friends required it. + </p> + <p> + The maid stood looking at her with a puzzled gaze, and Susy somewhat + sharply repeated her order. “But don’t wake him on purpose,” she added, + foreseeing the probable effect on Strefford’s temper. + </p> + <p> + “But, signora, the gentleman is already out.” + </p> + <p> + “Already out?” Strefford, who could hardly be routed from his bed before + luncheon-time! “Is it so late?” Susy cried, incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “After nine. And the gentleman took the eight o’clock train for England. + Gervaso said he had received a telegram. He left word that he would write + to the signora.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed upon the maid, and Susy continued to gaze at her painted + image in the glass, as if she had been trying to outstare an importunate + stranger. There was no one left for her to take counsel of, then—no + one but poor Fred Gillow! She made a grimace at the idea. + </p> + <p> + But what on earth could have summoned Strefford back to England? + </p> + + +<h3>XII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Nick Lansing</span>, in the Milan express, was roused by the same bar of sunshine + lying across his knees. He yawned, looked with disgust at his stolidly + sleeping neighbours, and wondered why he had decided to go to Milan, and + what on earth he should do when he got there. The difficulty about + trenchant decisions was that the next morning they generally left one + facing a void.... + </p> + <p> + When the train drew into the station at Milan, he scrambled out, got some + coffee, and having drunk it decided to continue his journey to Genoa. The + state of being carried passively onward postponed action and dulled + thought; and after twelve hours of furious mental activity that was + exactly what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + He fell into a doze again, waking now and then to haggard intervals of + more thinking, and then dropping off to the clank and rattle of the train. + Inside his head, in his waking intervals, the same clanking and grinding + of wheels and chains went on unremittingly. He had done all his lucid + thinking within an hour of leaving the Palazzo Vanderlyn the night before; + since then, his brain had simply continued to revolve indefatigably about + the same old problem. His cup of coffee, instead of clearing his thoughts, + had merely accelerated their pace. + </p> + <p> + At Genoa he wandered about in the hot streets, bought a cheap suit-case + and some underclothes, and then went down to the port in search of a + little hotel he remembered there. An hour later he was sitting in the + coffee-room, smoking and glancing vacantly over the papers while he waited + for dinner, when he became aware of being timidly but intently examined by + a small round-faced gentleman with eyeglasses who sat alone at the + adjoining table. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo—Buttles!” Lansing exclaimed, recognising with surprise the + recalcitrant secretary who had resisted Miss Hicks’s endeavour to convert + him to Tiepolo. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Buttles, blushing to the roots of his scant hair, half rose and bowed + ceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + Nick Lansing’s first feeling was of annoyance at being disturbed in his + solitary broodings; his next, of relief at having to postpone them even to + converse with Mr. Buttles. + </p> + <p> + “No idea you were here: is the yacht in harbour?” he asked, remembering + that the Ibis must be just about to spread her wings. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Buttles, at salute behind his chair, signed a mute negation: for the + moment he seemed too embarrassed to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—you’re here as an advance guard? I remember now—I saw Miss + Hicks in Venice the day before yesterday,” Lansing continued, dazed at the + thought that hardly forty-eight hours had passed since his encounter with + Coral in the Scalzi. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Buttles, instead of speaking, had tentatively approached his table. + “May I take this seat for a moment, Mr. Lansing? Thank you. No, I am not + here as an advance guard—though I believe the Ibis is due some time + to-morrow.” He cleared his throat, wiped his eyeglasses on a silk + handkerchief, replaced them on his nose, and went on solemnly: “Perhaps, + to clear up any possible misunderstanding, I ought to say that I am no + longer in the employ of Mr. Hicks.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing glanced at him sympathetically. It was clear that he suffered + horribly in imparting this information, though his compact face did not + lend itself to any dramatic display of emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” Nick smiled, and then ventured: “I hope it’s not owing to + conscientious objections to Tiepolo?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Buttles’s blush became a smouldering agony. “Ah, Miss Hicks mentioned + to you... told you...? No, Mr. Lansing. I am principled against the effete + art of Tiepolo, and of all his contemporaries, I confess; but if Miss + Hicks chooses to surrender herself momentarily to the unwholesome spell of + the Italian decadence it is not for me to protest or to criticize. Her + intellectual and aesthetic range so far exceeds my humble capacity that it + would be ridiculous, unbecoming....” + </p> + <p> + He broke off, and once more wiped a faint moisture from his eyeglasses. It + was evident that he was suffering from a distress which he longed and yet + dreaded to communicate. But Nick made no farther effort to bridge the gulf + of his own preoccupations; and Mr. Buttles, after an expectant pause, went + on: “If you see me here to-day it is only because, after a somewhat abrupt + departure, I find myself unable to take leave of our friends without a + last look at the Ibis—the scene of so many stimulating hours. But I + must beg you,” he added earnestly, “should you see Miss Hicks—or any + other member of the party—to make no allusion to my presence in + Genoa. I wish,” said Mr. Buttles with simplicity, “to preserve the + strictest incognito.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing glanced at him kindly. “Oh, but—isn’t that a little + unfriendly?” + </p> + <p> + “No other course is possible, Mr. Lansing,” said the ex-secretary, “and I + commit myself to your discretion. The truth is, if I am here it is not to + look once more at the Ibis, but at Miss Hicks: once only. You will + understand me, and appreciate what I am suffering.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed again, and trotted away on his small, tightly-booted feet; + pausing on the threshold to say: “From the first it was hopeless,” before + he disappeared through the glass doors. + </p> + <p> + A gleam of commiseration flashed through Nick’s mind: there was something + quaintly poignant in the sight of the brisk and efficient Mr. Buttles + reduced to a limp image of unrequited passion. And what a painful surprise + to the Hickses to be thus suddenly deprived of the secretary who possessed + “the foreign languages”! Mr. Beck kept the accounts and settled with the + hotel-keepers; but it was Mr. Buttles’s loftier task to entertain in their + own tongues the unknown geniuses who flocked about the Hickses, and Nick + could imagine how disconcerting his departure must be on the eve of their + Grecian cruise which Mrs. Hicks would certainly call an Odyssey. + </p> + <p> + The next moment the vision of Coral’s hopeless suitor had faded, and Nick + was once more spinning around on the wheel of his own woes. The night + before, when he had sent his note to Susy, from a little restaurant close + to Palazzo Vanderlyn that they often patronized, he had done so with the + firm intention of going away for a day or two in order to collect his wits + and think over the situation. But after his letter had been entrusted to + the landlord’s little son, who was a particular friend of Susy’s, Nick had + decided to await the lad’s return. The messenger had not been bidden to + ask for an answer; but Nick, knowing the friendly and inquisitive Italian + mind, was almost sure that the boy, in the hope of catching a glimpse of + Susy, would linger about while the letter was carried up. And he pictured + the maid knocking at his wife’s darkened room, and Susy dashing some + powder on her tear-stained face before she turned on the light—poor + foolish child! + </p> + <p> + The boy had returned rather sooner than Nick expected, and he had brought + no answer, but merely the statement that the signora was out: that + everybody was out. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody?” + </p> + <p> + “The signora and the four gentlemen who were dining at the palace. They + all went out together on foot soon after dinner. There was no one to whom + I could give the note but the gondolier on the landing, for the signora + had said she would be very late, and had sent the maid to bed; and the + maid had, of course, gone out immediately with her innamorato.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—” said Nick, slipping his reward into the boy’s hand, and + walking out of the restaurant. + </p> + <p> + Susy had gone out—gone out with their usual band, as she did every + night in these sultry summer weeks, gone out after her talk with Nick, as + if nothing had happened, as if his whole world and hers had not crashed in + ruins at their feet. Ah, poor Susy! After all, she had merely obeyed the + instinct of self preservation, the old hard habit of keeping up, going + ahead and hiding her troubles; unless indeed the habit had already + engendered indifference, and it had become as easy for her as for most of + her friends to pass from drama to dancing, from sorrow to the cinema. What + of soul was left, he wondered—? + </p> + <p> + His train did not start till midnight, and after leaving the restaurant + Nick tramped the sultry by-ways till his tired legs brought him to a + standstill under the vine-covered pergola of a gondolier’s wine-shop at a + landing close to the Piazzetta. There he could absorb cooling drinks until + it was time to go to the station. + </p> + <p> + It was after eleven, and he was beginning to look about for a boat, when a + black prow pushed up to the steps, and with much chaff and laughter a + party of young people in evening dress jumped out. Nick, from under the + darkness of the vine, saw that there was only one lady among them, and it + did not need the lamp above the landing to reveal her identity. Susy, + bareheaded and laughing, a light scarf slipping from her bare shoulders, a + cigarette between her fingers, took Strefford’s arm and turned in the + direction of Florian’s, with Gillow, the Prince and young Breckenridge in + her wake.... + </p> + <p> + Nick had relived this rapid scene hundreds of times during his hours in + the train and his aimless trampings through the streets of Genoa. In that + squirrel-wheel of a world of his and Susy’s you had to keep going or drop + out—and Susy, it was evident, had chosen to keep going. Under the + lamp-flare on the landing he had had a good look at her face, and had seen + that the mask of paint and powder was carefully enough adjusted to hide + any ravages the scene between them might have left. He even fancied that + she had dropped a little atropine into her eyes.... + </p> + <p> + There was no time to spare if he meant to catch the midnight train, and no + gondola in sight but that which his wife had just left. He sprang into it, + and bade the gondolier carry him to the station. The cushions, as he + leaned back, gave out a breath of her scent; and in the glare of electric + light at the station he saw at his feet a rose which had fallen from her + dress. He ground his heel into it as he got out. + </p> + <p> + There it was, then; that was the last picture he was to have of her. For + he knew now that he was not going back; at least not to take up their life + together. He supposed he should have to see her once, to talk things over, + settle something for their future. He had been sincere in saying that he + bore her no ill-will; only he could never go back into that slough again. + If he did, he knew he would inevitably be drawn under, slipping downward + from concession to concession.... + </p> + <p> + The noises of a hot summer night in the port of Genoa would have kept the + most care-free from slumber; but though Nick lay awake he did not notice + them, for the tumult in his brain was more deafening. Dawn brought a + negative relief, and out of sheer weariness he dropped into a heavy sleep. + When he woke it was nearly noon, and from his window he saw the well-known + outline of the Ibis standing up dark against the glitter of the harbour. + He had no fear of meeting her owners, who had doubtless long since landed + and betaken themselves to cooler and more fashionable regions: oddly + enough, the fact seemed to accentuate his loneliness, his sense of having + no one on earth to turn to. He dressed, and wandered out disconsolately to + pick up a cup of coffee in some shady corner. + </p> + <p> + As he drank his coffee his thoughts gradually cleared. It became obvious + to him that he had behaved like a madman or a petulant child—he + preferred to think it was like a madman. If he and Susy were to separate + there was no reason why it should not be done decently and quietly, as + such transactions were habitually managed among people of their kind. It + seemed grotesque to introduce melodrama into their little world of + unruffled Sybarites, and he felt inclined, now, to smile at the + incongruity of his gesture.... But suddenly his eyes filled with tears. + The future without Susy was unbearable, inconceivable. Why, after all, + should they separate? At the question, her soft face seemed close to his, + and that slight lift of the upper lip that made her smile so exquisite. + Well—he would go back. But not with any presence of going to talk things + over, come to an agreement, wind up their joint life like a business + association. No—if he went back he would go without conditions, for + good, forever.... + </p> + <p> + Only, what about the future? What about the not far-distant day when the + wedding cheques would have been spent, and Granny’s pearls sold, and + nothing left except unconcealed and unconditional dependence on rich + friends, the role of the acknowledged hangers-on? Was there no other + possible solution, no new way of ordering their lives? No—there was + none: he could not picture Susy out of her setting of luxury and leisure, + could not picture either of them living such a life as the Nat Fulmers, + for instance! He remembered the shabby untidy bungalow in New Hampshire, + the slatternly servants, uneatable food and ubiquitous children. How could + he ask Susy to share such a life with him? If he did, she would probably + have the sense to refuse. Their alliance had been based on a moment’s + midsummer madness; now the score must be paid.... + </p> + <p> + He decided to write. If they were to part he could not trust himself to + see her. He called a waiter, asked for pen and paper, and pushed aside a + pile of unread newspapers on the corner of the table where his coffee had + been served. As he did so, his eye lit on a Daily Mail of two days before. + As a pretext for postponing his letter, he took up the paper and glanced + down the first page. He read: + </p> + <p> + “Tragic Yachting Accident in the Solent. The Earl of Altringham and his + son Viscount d’Amblay drowned in midnight collision. Both bodies + recovered.” + </p> + <p> + He read on. He grasped the fact that the disaster had happened the night + before he had left Venice and that, as the result of a fog in the Solent, + their old friend Strefford was now Earl of Altringham, and possessor of + one of the largest private fortunes in England. It was vertiginous to + think of their old impecunious Streff as the hero of such an adventure. + And what irony in that double turn of the wheel which, in one day, had + plunged him, Nick Lansing, into nethermost misery, while it tossed the + other to the stars! + </p> + <p> + With an intenser precision he saw again Susy’s descent from the gondola at + the calle steps, the sound of her laughter and of Strefford’s chaff, the + way she had caught his arm and clung to it, sweeping the other men on in + her train. Strefford—Susy and Strefford!... More than once, Nick had + noticed the softer inflections of his friend’s voice when he spoke to + Susy, the brooding look in his lazy eyes when they rested on her. In the + security of his wedded bliss Nick had made light of those signs. The only + real jealousy he had felt had been of Fred Gillow, because of his + unlimited power to satisfy a woman’s whims. Yet Nick knew that such + material advantages would never again suffice for Susy. With Strefford it + was different. She had delighted in his society while he was notoriously + ineligible; might not she find him irresistible now? + </p> + <p> + The forgotten terms of their bridal compact came back to Nick: the absurd + agreement on which he and Susy had solemnly pledged their faith. But was + it so absurd, after all? It had been Susy’s suggestion (not his, thank + God!); and perhaps in making it she had been more serious than he + imagined. Perhaps, even if their rupture had not occurred, Strefford’s + sudden honours might have caused her to ask for her freedom.... + </p> + <p> + Money, luxury, fashion, pleasure: those were the four cornerstones of her + existence. He had always known it—she herself had always + acknowledged it, even in their last dreadful talk together; and once he + had gloried in her frankness. How could he ever have imagined that, to + have her fill of these things, she would not in time stoop lower than she + had yet stooped? Perhaps in giving her up to Strefford he might be saving + her. At any rate, the taste of the past was now so bitter to him that he + was moved to thank whatever gods there were for pushing that mortuary + paragraph under his eye.... + </p> + <p> + “Susy, dear [he wrote], the fates seem to have taken our future in hand, + and spared us the trouble of unravelling it. If I have sometimes been + selfish enough to forget the conditions on which you agreed to marry me, + they have come back to me during these two days of solitude. You’ve given + me the best a man can have, and nothing else will ever be worth much to + me. But since I haven’t the ability to provide you with what you want, I + recognize that I’ve no right to stand in your way. We must owe no more + Venetian palaces to underhand services. I see by the newspapers that + Streff can now give you as many palaces as you want. Let him have the + chance—I fancy he’ll jump at it, and he’s the best man in sight. I + wish I were in his shoes. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll write again in a day or two, when I’ve collected my wits, and can + give you an address. NICK.” + </p> + <p> + He added a line on the subject of their modest funds, put the letter into + an envelope, and addressed it to Mrs. Nicholas Lansing. As he did so, he + reflected that it was the first time he had ever written his wife’s + married name. + </p> + <p> + “Well—by God, no other woman shall have it after her,” he vowed, as + he groped in his pocketbook for a stamp. + </p> + <p> + He stood up with a stretch of weariness—the heat was stifling!—and + put the letter in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll post it myself, it’s safer,” he thought; “and then what in the name + of goodness shall I do next, I wonder?” He jammed his hat down on his head + and walked out into the sun-blaze. + </p> + <p> + As he was turning away from the square by the general Post Office, a white + parasol waved from a passing cab, and Coral Hicks leaned forward with + outstretched hand. “I knew I’d find you,” she triumphed. “I’ve been + driving up and down in this broiling sun for hours, shopping and watching + for you at the same time.” + </p> + <p> + He stared at her blankly, too bewildered even to wonder how she knew he + was in Genoa; and she continued, with the kind of shy imperiousness that + always made him feel, in her presence, like a member of an orchestra under + a masterful baton; “Now please get right into this carriage, and don’t + keep me roasting here another minute.” To the cabdriver she called out: + “Al porto.” + </p> + <p> + Nick Lansing sank down beside her. As he did so he noticed a heap of + bundles at her feet, and felt that he had simply added one more to the + number. He supposed that she was taking her spoils to the Ibis, and that + he would be carried up to the deck-house to be displayed with the others. + Well, it would all help to pass the day—and by night he would have + reached some kind of a decision about his future. + </p> + <p> + On the third day after Nick’s departure the post brought to the Palazzo + Vanderlyn three letters for Mrs. Lansing. + </p> + <p> + The first to arrive was a word from Strefford, scribbled in the train and + posted at Turin. In it he briefly said that he had been called home by the + dreadful accident of which Susy had probably read in the daily papers. He + added that he would write again from England, and then—in a blotted + postscript—: “I wanted uncommonly badly to see you for good-bye, but + the hour was impossible. Regards to Nick. Do write me just a word to + Altringham.” + </p> + <p> + The other two letters, which came together in the afternoon, were both + from Genoa. Susy scanned the addresses and fell upon the one in her + husband’s writing. Her hand trembled so much that for a moment she could + not open the envelope. When she had done so, she devoured the letter in a + flash, and then sat and brooded over the outspread page as it lay on her + knee. It might mean so many things—she could read into it so many + harrowing alternatives of indifference and despair, of irony and + tenderness! Was he suffering tortures when he wrote it, or seeking only to + inflict them upon her? Or did the words represent his actual feelings, no + more and no less, and did he really intend her to understand that he + considered it his duty to abide by the letter of their preposterous + compact? He had left her in wrath and indignation, yet, as a closer + scrutiny revealed, there was not a word of reproach in his brief lines. + Perhaps that was why, in the last issue, they seemed so cold to her.... + She shivered and turned to the other envelope. + </p> + <p> + The large stilted characters, though half-familiar, called up no definite + image. She opened the envelope and discovered a post-card of the Ibis, + canvas spread, bounding over a rippled sea. On the back was written: + </p> + <p> + “So awfully dear of you to lend us Mr. Lansing for a little cruise. You + may count on our taking the best of care of him. + </p> + <p> + “CORAL” <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + + <h3> + XIII. + </h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">When</span> Violet Melrose had said to Susy Branch, the winter before in New + York: “But why on earth don’t you and Nick go to my little place at + Versailles for the honeymoon? I’m off to China, and you could have it to + yourselves all summer,” the offer had been tempting enough to make the + lovers waver. + </p> + <p> + It was such an artless ingenuous little house, so full of the demoralizing + simplicity of great wealth, that it seemed to Susy just the kind of place + in which to take the first steps in renunciation. But Nick had objected + that Paris, at that time of year, would be swarming with acquaintances who + would hunt them down at all hours; and Susy’s own experience had led her + to remark that there was nothing the very rich enjoyed more than taking + pot-luck with the very poor. They therefore gave Strefford’s villa the + preference, with an inward proviso (on Susy’s part) that Violet’s house + might very conveniently serve their purpose at another season. + </p> + <p> + These thoughts were in her mind as she drove up to Mrs. Melrose’s door on + a rainy afternoon late in August, her boxes piled high on the roof of the + cab she had taken at the station. She had travelled straight through from + Venice, stopping in Milan just long enough to pick up a reply to the + telegram she had despatched to the perfect housekeeper whose permanent + presence enabled Mrs. Melrose to say: “Oh, when I’m sick of everything I + just rush off without warning to my little shanty at Versailles, and live + there all alone on scrambled eggs.” + </p> + <p> + The perfect house-keeper had replied to Susy’s enquiry: “Am sure Mrs. + Melrose most happy”; and Susy, without further thought, had jumped into a + Versailles train, and now stood in the thin rain before the sphinx-guarded + threshold of the pavilion. + </p> + <p> + The revolving year had brought around the season at which Mrs. Melrose’s + house might be convenient: no visitors were to be feared at Versailles at + the end of August, and though Susy’s reasons for seeking solitude were so + remote from those she had once prefigured, they were none the less cogent. + To be alone—alone! After those first exposed days when, in the + persistent presence of Fred Gillow and his satellites, and in the mocking + radiance of late summer on the lagoons, she had fumed and turned about in + her agony like a trapped animal in a cramping cage, to be alone had seemed + the only respite, the one craving: to be alone somewhere in a setting as + unlike as possible to the sensual splendours of Venice, under skies as + unlike its azure roof. If she could have chosen she would have crawled + away into a dingy inn in a rainy northern town, where she had never been + and no one knew her. Failing that unobtainable luxury, here she was on the + threshold of an empty house, in a deserted place, under lowering skies. + She had shaken off Fred Gillow, sulkily departing for his moor (where she + had half-promised to join him in September); the Prince, young + Breckenridge, and the few remaining survivors of the Venetian group, had + dispersed in the direction of the Engadine or Biarritz; and now she could + at least collect her wits, take stock of herself, and prepare the + countenance with which she was to face the next stage in her career. Thank + God it was raining at Versailles! + </p> + <p> + The door opened, she heard voices in the drawing-room, and a slender + languishing figure appeared on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Darling!” Violet Melrose cried in an embrace, drawing her into the dusky + perfumed room. + </p> + <p> + “But I thought you were in China!” Susy stammered. + </p> + <p> + “In China... in China,” Mrs. Melrose stared with dreamy eyes, and Susy + remembered her drifting disorganised life, a life more planless, more + inexplicable than that of any of the other ephemeral beings blown about + upon the same winds of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Madam, I thought so myself till I got a wire from Mrs. Melrose last + evening,” remarked the perfect house-keeper, following with Susy’s + handbag. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Melrose clutched her cavernous temples in her attenuated hands. “Of + course, of course! I had meant to go to China—no, India.... But I’ve + discovered a genius... and Genius, you know....” Unable to complete her + thought, she sank down upon a pillowy divan, stretched out an arm, cried: + “Fulmer! Fulmer!” and, while Susy Lansing stood in the middle of the room + with widening eyes, a man emerged from the more deeply cushioned and + scented twilight of some inner apartment, and she saw with surprise Nat + Fulmer, the good Nat Fulmer of the New Hampshire bungalow and the + ubiquitous progeny, standing before her in lordly ease, his hands in his + pockets, a cigarette between his lips, his feet solidly planted in the + insidious depths of one of Violet Melrose’s white leopard skins. + </p> + <p> + “Susy!” he shouted with open arms; and Mrs. Melrose murmured: “You didn’t + know, then? You hadn’t heard of his masterpieces?” + </p> + <p> + In spite of herself, Susy burst into a laugh. “Is Nat your genius?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Melrose looked at her reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + Fulmer laughed. “No; I’m Grace’s. But Mrs. Melrose has been our + Providence, and....” + </p> + <p> + “Providence?” his hostess interrupted. “Don’t talk as if you were at a + prayer-meeting! He had an exhibition in New York... it was the most + fabulous success. He’s come abroad to make studies for the decoration of + my music-room in New York. Ursula Gillow has given him her garden-house at + Roslyn to do. And Mrs. Bockheimer’s ball-room—oh, Fulmer, where are + the cartoons?” She sprang up, tossed about some fashion-papers heaped on a + lacquer table, and sank back exhausted by the effort. “I’d got as far as + Brindisi. I’ve travelled day and night to be here to meet him,” she + declared. “But, you darling,” and she held out a caressing hand to Susy, + “I’m forgetting to ask if you’ve had tea?” + </p> + <p> + An hour later, over the tea-table, Susy already felt herself mysteriously + reabsorbed into what had so long been her native element. Ellie Vanderlyn + had brought a breath of it to Venice; but Susy was then nourished on + another air, the air of Nick’s presence and personality; now that she was + abandoned, left again to her own devices, she felt herself suddenly at the + mercy of the influences from which she thought she had escaped. + </p> + <p> + In the queer social whirligig from which she had so lately fled, it seemed + natural enough that a shake of the box should have tossed Nat Fulmer into + celebrity, and sent Violet Melrose chasing back from the ends of the earth + to bask in his success. Susy knew that Mrs. Melrose belonged to the class + of moral parasites; for in that strange world the parts were sometimes + reversed, and the wealthy preyed upon the pauper. Wherever there was a + reputation to batten on, there poor Violet appeared, a harmless vampire in + pearls who sought only to feed on the notoriety which all her millions + could not create for her. Any one less versed than Susy in the shallow + mysteries of her little world would have seen in Violet Melrose a baleful + enchantress, in Nat Fulmer her helpless victim. Susy knew better. Violet, + poor Violet, was not even that. The insignificant Ellie Vanderlyn, with + her brief trivial passions, her artless mixture of amorous and social + interests, was a woman with a purpose, a creature who fulfilled herself; + but Violet was only a drifting interrogation. + </p> + <p> + And what of Fulmer? Mustering with new eyes his short sturdily-built + figure, his nondescript bearded face, and the eyes that dreamed and + wandered, and then suddenly sank into you like claws, Susy seemed to have + found the key to all his years of dogged toil, his indifference to + neglect, indifference to poverty, indifference to the needs of his growing + family.... Yes: for the first time she saw that he looked commonplace + enough to be a genius—was a genius, perhaps, even though it was + Violet Melrose who affirmed it! Susy looked steadily at Fulmer, their eyes + met, and he smiled at her faintly through his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did discover him—I did,” Mrs. Melrose was insisting, from + the depths of the black velvet divan in which she lay sunk like a wan + Nereid in a midnight sea. “You mustn’t believe a word that Ursula Gillow + tells you about having pounced on his ‘Spring Snow Storm’ in a dark corner + of the American Artists’ exhibition—skied, if you please! They skied + him less than a year ago! And naturally Ursula never in her life looked + higher than the first line at a picture-show. And now she actually + pretends... oh, for pity’s sake don’t say it doesn’t matter, Fulmer! Your + saying that just encourages her, and makes people think she did. When, in + reality, any one who saw me at the exhibition on varnishing-day.... Who? + Well, Eddy Breckenridge, for instance. He was in Egypt, you say? Perhaps + he was! As if one could remember the people about one, when suddenly one + comes upon a great work of art, as St. Paul did—didn’t he?—and + the scales fell from his eyes. Well... that’s exactly what happened to me + that day... and Ursula, everybody knows, was down at Roslyn at the time, + and didn’t come up for the opening of the exhibition at all. And Fulmer + sits there and laughs, and says it doesn’t matter, and that he’ll paint + another picture any day for me to discover!” + </p> + <p> + Susy had rung the door-bell with a hand trembling with eagerness—eagerness + to be alone, to be quiet, to stare her situation in the face, and collect + herself before she came out again among her kind. She had stood on the + door-step, cowering among her bags, counting the instants till a step + sounded and the door-knob turned, letting her in from the searching glare + of the outer world.... And now she had sat for an hour in Violet’s + drawing-room, in the very house where her honey-moon might have been + spent; and no one had asked her where she had come from, or why she was + alone, or what was the key to the tragedy written on her shrinking + face.... + </p> + <p> + That was the way of the world they lived in. Nobody questioned, nobody + wondered any more—because nobody had time to remember. The old risk of + prying curiosity, of malicious gossip, was virtually over: one was left + with one’s drama, one’s disaster, on one’s hands, because there was nobody + to stop and notice the little shrouded object one was carrying. As Susy + watched the two people before her, each so frankly unaffected by her + presence, Violet Melrose so engrossed in her feverish pursuit of + notoriety, Fulmer so plunged in the golden sea of his success, she felt + like a ghost making inaudible and imperceptible appeals to the grosser + senses of the living. + </p> + <p> + “If I wanted to be alone,” she thought, “I’m alone enough, in all + conscience.” There was a deathly chill in such security. She turned to + Fulmer. + </p> + <p> + “And Grace?” + </p> + <p> + He beamed back without sign of embarrassment. “Oh, she’s here, naturally—we’re + in Paris, kids and all. In a pension, where we can polish up the lingo. + But I hardly ever lay eyes on her, because she’s as deep in music as I am + in paint; it was as big a chance for her as for me, you see, and she’s + making the most of it, fiddling and listening to the fiddlers. Well, it’s + a considerable change from New Hampshire.” He looked at her dreamily, as + if making an intense effort to detach himself from his dream, and situate + her in the fading past. “Remember the bungalow? And Nick—ah, how’s + Nick?” he brought out triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—darling Nick?” Mrs. Melrose chimed in; and Susy, her head + erect, her cheeks aflame, declared with resonance: “Most awfully well—splendidly!” + </p> + <p> + “He’s not here, though?” from Fulmer. + </p> + <p> + “No. He’s off travelling—cruising.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Melrose’s attention was faintly roused. “With anybody interesting?” + </p> + <p> + “No; you wouldn’t know them. People we met....” She did not have to + continue, for her hostess’s gaze had again strayed. + </p> + <p> + “And you’ve come for your clothes, I suppose, darling? Don’t listen to + people who say that skirts are to be wider. I’ve discovered a new woman—a + Genius—and she absolutely swathes you.... Her name’s my secret; but + we’ll go to her together.” + </p> + <p> + Susy rose from her engulphing armchair. “Do you mind if I go up to my + room? I’m rather tired—coming straight through.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, dear. I think there are some people coming to dinner... Mrs. + Match will tell you. She has such a memory.... Fulmer, where on earth are + those cartoons of the music-room?” + </p> + <p> + Their voices pursued Susy upstairs, as, in Mrs. Match’s perpendicular + wake, she mounted to the white-panelled room with its gay linen hangings + and the low bed heaped with more cushions. + </p> + <p> + “If we’d come here,” she thought, “everything might have been different.” + And she shuddered at the sumptuous memories of the Palazzo Vanderlyn, and + the great painted bedroom where she had met her doom. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Match, hoping she would find everything, and mentioning that dinner + was not till nine, shut her softly in among her terrors. + </p> + <p> + “Find everything?” Susy echoed the phrase. Oh, yes, she would always find + everything: every time the door shut on her now, and the sound of voices + ceased, her memories would be there waiting for her, every one of them, + waiting quietly, patiently, obstinately, like poor people in a doctor’s + office, the people who are always last to be attended to, but whom nothing + will discourage or drive away, people to whom time is nothing, fatigue + nothing, hunger nothing, other engagements nothing: who just wait.... + Thank heaven, after all, that she had not found the house empty, if, + whenever she returned to her room, she was to meet her memories there! + </p> + <p> + It was just a week since Nick had left her. During that week, crammed with + people, questions, packing, explaining, evading, she had believed that in + solitude lay her salvation. Now she understood that there was nothing she + was so unprepared for, so unfitted for. When, in all her life, had she + ever been alone? And how was she to bear it now, with all these ravening + memories besetting her! + </p> + <p> + Dinner not till nine? What on earth was she to do till nine o’clock? She + knelt before her boxes, and feverishly began to unpack. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, imperceptibly, the subtle influences of her old life were + stealing into her. As she pulled out her tossed and crumpled dresses she + remembered Violet’s emphatic warning: “Don’t believe the people who tell + you that skirts are going to be wider.” Were hers, perhaps, too wide as it + was? She looked at her limp raiment, piling itself up on bed and sofa, and + understood that, according to Violet’s standards, and that of all her set, + those dresses, which Nick had thought so original and exquisite, were + already commonplace and dowdy, fit only to be passed on to poor relations + or given to one’s maid. And Susy would have to go on wearing them till + they fell to bits—or else.... Well, or else begin the old life again in + some new form.... + </p> + <p> + She laughed aloud at the turn of her thoughts. Dresses? How little they + had mattered a few short weeks ago! And now, perhaps, they would again be + one of the foremost considerations in her life. How could it be otherwise, + if she were to return again to her old dependence on Ellie Vanderlyn, + Ursula Gillow, Violet Melrose? And beyond that, only the Bockheimers and + their kind awaited her.... + </p> + <p> + A knock on the door—what a relief! It was Mrs. Match again, with a + telegram. To whom had Susy given her new address? With a throbbing heart + she tore open the envelope and read: + </p> + <p> + “Shall be in Paris Friday for twenty-four hours where can I see you write + Nouveau Luxe.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, yes—she remembered now: she had written to Strefford! And this + was his answer: he was coming. She dropped into a chair, and tried to + think. What on earth had she said in her letter? It had been mainly, of + course, one of condolence; but now she remembered having added, in a + precipitate postscript: “I can’t give your message to Nick, for he’s gone + off with the Hickses—I don’t know where, or for how long. It’s all right, + of course: it was in our bargain.” + </p> + <p> + She had not meant to put in that last phrase; but as she sealed her letter + to Strefford her eye had fallen on Nick’s missive, which lay beside it. + Nothing in her husband’s brief lines had embittered her as much as the + allusion to Strefford. It seemed to imply that Nick’s own plans were made, + that his own future was secure, and that he could therefore freely and + handsomely take thought for hers, and give her a pointer in the right + direction. Sudden rage had possessed her at the thought: where she had at + first read jealousy she now saw only a cold providence, and in a blur of + tears she had scrawled her postscript to Strefford. She remembered that + she had not even asked him to keep her secret. Well—after all, what + would it matter if people should already know that Nick had left her? + Their parting could not long remain a mystery, and the fact that it was + known might help her to keep up a presence of indifference. + </p> + <p> + “It was in the bargain—in the bargain,” rang through her brain as + she re-read Strefford’s telegram. She understood that he had snatched the + time for this hasty trip solely in the hope of seeing her, and her eyes + filled. The more bitterly she thought of Nick the more this proof of + Strefford’s friendship moved her. + </p> + <p> + The clock, to her relief, reminded her that it was time to dress for + dinner. She would go down presently, chat with Violet and Fulmer, and with + Violet’s other guests, who would probably be odd and amusing, and too much + out of her world to embarrass her by awkward questions. She would sit at a + softly-lit table, breathe delicate scents, eat exquisite food (trust Mrs. + Match!), and be gradually drawn again under the spell of her old + associations. Anything, anything but to be alone.... + </p> + <p> + She dressed with even more than her habitual care, reddened her lips + attentively, brushed the faintest bloom of pink over her drawn cheeks, and + went down—to meet Mrs. Match coming up with a tray. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Madam, I thought you were too tired.... I was bringing it up to you + myself—just a little morsel of chicken.” + </p> + <p> + Susy, glancing past her, saw, through the open door, that the lamps were + not lit in the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I’m not tired, thank you. I thought Mrs. Melrose expected friends + at dinner!” + </p> + <p> + “Friends at dinner-to-night?” Mrs. Match heaved a despairing sigh. + Sometimes, the sigh seemed to say, her mistress put too great a strain + upon her. “Why, Mrs. Melrose and Mr. Fulmer were engaged to dine in Paris. + They left an hour ago. Mrs. Melrose told me she’d told you,” the + house-keeper wailed. + </p> + <p> + Susy kept her little fixed smile. “I must have misunderstood. In that + case... well, yes, if it’s no trouble, I believe I will have my tray + upstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly she turned, and followed the housekeeper up into the dread solitude + she had just left. + </p> + + +<h3>XIV.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">The</span> next day a lot of people turned up unannounced for luncheon. They were + not of the far-fetched and the exotic, in whom Mrs. Melrose now + specialized, but merely commonplace fashionable people belonging to Susy’s + own group, people familiar with the amusing romance of her penniless + marriage, and to whom she had to explain (though none of them really + listened to the explanation) that Nick was not with her just now but had + gone off cruising... cruising in the AEgean with friends... getting up + material for his book (this detail had occurred to her in the night). + </p> + <p> + It was the kind of encounter she had most dreaded; but it proved, after + all, easy enough to go through compared with those endless hours of + turning to and fro, the night before, in the cage of her lonely room. + Anything, anything, but to be alone.... + </p> + <p> + Gradually, from the force of habit, she found herself actually in tune + with the talk of the luncheon table, interested in the references to + absent friends, the light allusions to last year’s loves and quarrels, + scandals and absurdities. The women, in their pale summer dresses, were so + graceful, indolent and sure of themselves, the men so easy and + good-humoured! Perhaps, after all, Susy reflected, it was the world she + was meant for, since the other, the brief Paradise of her dreams, had + already shut its golden doors upon her. And then, as they sat on the + terrace after luncheon, looking across at the yellow tree-tops of the + park, one of the women said something—made just an allusion—that + Susy would have let pass unnoticed in the old days, but that now filled + her with a sudden deep disgust.... She stood up and wandered away, away + from them all through the fading garden. + </p> + <p> + Two days later Susy and Strefford sat on the terrace of the Tuileries + above the Seine. She had asked him to meet her there, with the desire to + avoid the crowded halls and drawing-room of the Nouveau Luxe where, even + at that supposedly “dead” season, people one knew were always drifting to + and fro; and they sat on a bench in the pale sunlight, the discoloured + leaves heaped at their feet, and no one to share their solitude but a lame + working-man and a haggard woman who were lunching together mournfully at + the other end of the majestic vista. + </p> + <p> + Strefford, in his new mourning, looked unnaturally prosperous and + well-valeted; but his ugly untidy features remained as undisciplined, his + smile as whimsical, as of old. He had been on cool though friendly terms + with the pompous uncle and the poor sickly cousin whose joint + disappearance had so abruptly transformed his future; and it was his way + to understate his feelings rather than to pretend more than he felt. + Nevertheless, beneath his habitual bantering tone Susy discerned a change. + The disaster had shocked him profoundly; already, in his brief sojourn + among his people and among the great possessions so tragically acquired, + old instincts had awakened, forgotten associations had spoken in him. Susy + listened to him wistfully, silenced by her imaginative perception of the + distance that these things had put between them. + </p> + <p> + “It was horrible... seeing them both there together, laid out in that + hideous Pugin chapel at Altringham... the poor boy especially. I suppose + that’s really what’s cutting me up now,” he murmured, almost + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s more than that—more than you know,” she insisted; but he + jerked back: “Now, my dear, don’t be edifying, please,” and fumbled for a + cigarette in the pocket which was already beginning to bulge with his + miscellaneous properties. + </p> + <p> + “And now about you—for that’s what I came for,” he continued, + turning to her with one of his sudden movements. “I couldn’t make head or + tail of your letter.” + </p> + <p> + She paused a moment to steady her voice. “Couldn’t you? I suppose you’d + forgotten my bargain with Nick. He hadn’t—and he’s asked me to fulfil it.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford stared. “What—that nonsense about your setting each other + free if either of you had the chance to make a good match?” + </p> + <p> + She signed “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And he’s actually asked you—?” + </p> + <p> + “Well: practically. He’s gone off with the Hickses. Before going he wrote + me that we’d better both consider ourselves free. And Coral sent me a + postcard to say that she would take the best of care of him.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford mused, his eyes upon his cigarette. “But what the deuce led up + to all this? It can’t have happened like that, out of a clear sky.” + </p> + <p> + Susy flushed, hesitated, looked away. She had meant to tell Strefford the + whole story; it had been one of her chief reasons for wishing to see him + again, and half-unconsciously, perhaps, she had hoped, in his laxer + atmosphere, to recover something of her shattered self-esteem. But now she + suddenly felt the impossibility of confessing to anyone the depths to + which Nick’s wife had stooped. She fancied that her companion guessed the + nature of her hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t tell me anything you don’t want to, you know, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I do want to; only it’s difficult. You see—we had so very + little money....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “And Nick—who was thinking of his book, and of all sorts of big + things, fine things—didn’t realise... left it all to me... to + manage....” + </p> + <p> + She stumbled over the word, remembering how Nick had always winced at it. + But Strefford did not seem to notice her, and she hurried on, unfolding in + short awkward sentences the avowal of their pecuniary difficulties, and of + Nick’s inability to understand that, to keep on with the kind of life they + were leading, one had to put up with things... accept favours.... + </p> + <p> + “Borrow money, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—yes; and all the rest.” No—decidedly she could not + reveal to Strefford the episode of Ellie’s letters. “Nick suddenly felt, I + suppose, that he couldn’t stand it,” she continued; “and instead of asking + me to try—to try to live differently, go off somewhere with him and + live, like work-people, in two rooms, without a servant, as I was ready to + do; well, instead he wrote me that it had all been a mistake from the + beginning, that we couldn’t keep it up, and had better recognize the fact; + and he went off on the Hickses’ yacht. The last evening that you were in + Venice—the day he didn’t come back to dinner—he had gone off + to Genoa to meet them. I suppose he intends to marry Coral.” + </p> + <p> + Strefford received this in silence. “Well—it was your bargain, + wasn’t it?” he said at length. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but—” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly: I always told you so. You weren’t ready to have him go yet—that’s + all.” + </p> + <p> + She flushed to the forehead. “Oh, Streff—is it really all?” + </p> + <p> + “A question of time? If you doubt it, I’d like to see you try, for a + while, in those two rooms without a servant; and then let me hear from + you. Why, my dear, it’s only a question of time in a palace, with a steam + yacht lying off the door-step, and a flock of motors in the garage; look + around you and see. And did you ever imagine that you and Nick, of all + people, were going to escape the common doom, and survive like Mr. and + Mrs. Tithonus, while all about you the eternal passions were crumbling to + pieces, and your native Divorce-states piling up their revenues?” + </p> + <p> + She sat with bent head, the weight of the long years to come pressing like + a leaden load on her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “But I’m so young... life’s so long. What does last, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you’re too young to believe me, if I were to tell you; though you’re + intelligent enough to understand.” + </p> + <p> + “What does, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the hold of the things we all think we could do without. Habits—they + outstand the Pyramids. Comforts, luxuries, the atmosphere of ease... above + all, the power to get away from dulness and monotony, from constraints and + uglinesses. You chose that power, instinctively, before you were even + grown up; and so did Nick. And the only difference between you is that + he’s had the sense to see sooner than you that those are the things that + last, the prime necessities.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe it!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you don’t: at your age one doesn’t reason one’s materialism. + And besides you’re mortally hurt that Nick has found out sooner than you, + and hasn’t disguised his discovery under any hypocritical phrases.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely there are people—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—saints and geniuses and heroes: all the fanatics! To which of + their categories do you suppose we soft people belong? And the heroes and + the geniuses—haven’t they their enormous frailties and their giant + appetites? And how should we escape being the victims of our little ones?” + </p> + <p> + She sat for a while without speaking. “But, Streff, how can you say such + things, when I know you care: care for me, for instance!” + </p> + <p> + “Care?” He put his hand on hers. “But, my dear, it’s just the fugitiveness + of mortal caring that makes it so exquisite! It’s because we know we can’t + hold fast to it, or to each other, or to anything....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes... yes... but hush, please! Oh, don’t say it!” She stood up, the + tears in her throat, and he rose also. + </p> + <p> + “Come along, then; where do we lunch?” he said with a smile, slipping his + hand through her arm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know. Nowhere. I think I’m going back to Versailles.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I’ve disgusted you so deeply? Just my luck—when I came over + to ask you to marry me!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed, but he had become suddenly grave. “Upon my soul, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Streff! As if—now—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not now—I know. I’m aware that even with your accelerated + divorce methods—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not that. I told you it was no use, Streff—I told you long + ago, in Venice.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged ironically. “It’s not Streff who’s asking you now. Streff was + not a marrying man: he was only trifling with you. The present offer comes + from an elderly peer of independent means. Think it over, my dear: as many + days out as you like, and five footmen kept. There’s not the least hurry, + of course; but I rather think Nick himself would advise it.” + </p> + <p> + She flushed to the temples, remembering that Nick had; and the remembrance + made Strefford’s sneering philosophy seem less unbearable. Why should she + not lunch with him, after all? In the first days of his mourning he had + come to Paris expressly to see her, and to offer her one of the oldest + names and one of the greatest fortunes in England. She thought of Ursula + Gillow, Ellie Vanderlyn, Violet Melrose, of their condescending + kindnesses, their last year’s dresses, their Christmas cheques, and all + the careless bounties that were so easy to bestow and so hard to accept. + “I should rather enjoy paying them back,” something in her maliciously + murmured. + </p> + <p> + She did not mean to marry Strefford—she had not even got as far as + contemplating the possibility of a divorce but it was undeniable that this + sudden prospect of wealth and freedom was like fresh air in her lungs. She + laughed again, but now without bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “Very good, then; we’ll lunch together. But it’s Streff I want to lunch + with to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” her companion agreed, “I rather think that for a tête-à -tête + he’s better company.” + </p> + <p> + During their repast in a little restaurant over the Seine, where she + insisted on the cheapest dishes because she was lunching with “Streff,” he + became again his old whimsical companionable self. Once or twice she tried + to turn the talk to his altered future, and the obligations and interests + that lay before him; but he shrugged away from the subject, questioning + her instead about the motley company at Violet Melrose’s, and fitting a + droll or malicious anecdote to each of the people she named. + </p> + <p> + It was not till they had finished their coffee, and she was glancing at + her watch with a vague notion of taking the next train, that he asked + abruptly: “But what are you going to do? You can’t stay forever at + Violet’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” she cried with a shiver. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—you’ve got some plan, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Have I?” she wondered, jerked back into grim reality from the soothing + interlude of their hour together. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t drift indefinitely, can you? Unless you mean to go back to the + old sort of life once for all.” + </p> + <p> + She reddened and her eyes filled. “I can’t do that, Streff—I know I + can’t!” + </p> + <p> + “Then what—?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, and brought out with lowered head: “Nick said he would + write again—in a few days. I must wait—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, naturally. Don’t do anything in a hurry.” Strefford also glanced at + his watch. “Garcon, l’addition! I’m taking the train back to-night, and + I’ve a lot of things left to do. But look here, my dear—when you + come to a decision one way or the other let me know, will you? Oh, I don’t + mean in the matter I’ve most at heart; we’ll consider that closed for the + present. But at least I can be of use in other ways—hang it, you + know, I can even lend you money. There’s a new sensation for our jaded + palates!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff... Streff!” she could only falter; and he pressed on gaily: + “Try it, now do try it—I assure you there’ll be no interest to pay, + and no conditions attached. And promise to let me know when you’ve decided + anything.” + </p> + <p> + She looked into his humorously puckered eyes, answering. Their friendly + smile with hers. + </p> + <p> + “I promise!” she said. + </p> + + +<h3>XV.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">That</span> hour with Strefford had altered her whole perspective. Instead of + possible dependence, an enforced return to the old life of connivances and + concessions, she saw before her—whenever she chose to take them—freedom, + power and dignity. Dignity! It was odd what weight that word had come to + have for her. She had dimly felt its significance, felt the need of its + presence in her inmost soul, even in the young thoughtless days when she + had seemed to sacrifice so little to the austere divinities. And since she + had been Nick Lansing’s wife she had consciously acknowledged it, had + suffered and agonized when she fell beneath its standard. Yes: to marry + Strefford would give her that sense of self-respect which, in such a world + as theirs, only wealth and position could ensure. If she had not the + mental or moral training to attain independence in any other way, was she + to blame for seeking it on such terms? + </p> + <p> + Of course there was always the chance that Nick would come back, would + find life without her as intolerable as she was finding it without him. If + that happened—ah, if that happened! Then she would cease to strain + her eyes into the future, would seize upon the present moment and plunge + into it to the very bottom of oblivion. Nothing on earth would matter then—money + or freedom or pride, or her precious moral dignity, if only she were in + Nick’s arms again! + </p> + <p> + But there was Nick’s icy letter, there was Coral Hicks’s insolent + post-card, to show how little chance there was of such a solution. Susy + understood that, even before the discovery of her transaction with Ellie + Vanderlyn, Nick had secretly wearied, if not of his wife, at least of the + life that their marriage compelled him to lead. His passion was not strong + enough—had never been strong enough—to outweigh his prejudices, + scruples, principles, or whatever one chose to call them. Susy’s dignity + might go up like tinder in the blaze of her love; but his was made of a + less combustible substance. She had felt, in their last talk together, + that she had forever destroyed the inner harmony between them. + </p> + <p> + Well—there it was, and the fault was doubtless neither hers nor his, + but that of the world they had grown up in, of their own moral contempt + for it and physical dependence on it, of his half-talents and her + half-principles, of the something in them both that was not stout enough + to resist nor yet pliant enough to yield. She stared at the fact on the + journey back to Versailles, and all that sleepless night in her room; and + the next morning, when the housemaid came in with her breakfast tray, she + felt the factitious energy that comes from having decided, however + half-heartedly, on a definite course. + </p> + <p> + She had said to herself: “If there’s no letter from Nick this time next + week I’ll write to Streff—” and the week had passed, and there was + no letter. + </p> + <p> + It was now three weeks since he had left her, and she had had no word but + his note from Genoa. She had concluded that, foreseeing the probability of + her leaving Venice, he would write to her in care of their Paris bank. But + though she had immediately notified the bank of her change of address no + communication from Nick had reached her; and she smiled with a touch of + bitterness at the difficulty he was doubtless finding in the composition + of the promised letter. Her own scrap-basket, for the first days, had been + heaped with the fragments of the letters she had begun; and she told + herself that, since they both found it so hard to write, it was probably + because they had nothing left to say to each other. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the days at Mrs. Melrose’s drifted by as they had been wont to + drift when, under the roofs of the rich, Susy Branch had marked time + between one episode and the next of her precarious existence. Her + experience of such sojourns was varied enough to make her acutely + conscious of their effect on her temporary hosts; and in the present case + she knew that Violet was hardly aware of her presence. But if no more than + tolerated she was at least not felt to be an inconvenience; when your + hostess forgot about you it proved that at least you were not in her way. + </p> + <p> + Violet, as usual, was perpetually on the wing, for her profound indolence + expressed itself in a disordered activity. Nat Fulmer had returned to + Paris; but Susy guessed that his benefactress was still constantly in his + company, and that when Mrs. Melrose was whirled away in her noiseless + motor it was generally toward the scene of some new encounter between + Fulmer and the arts. On these occasions she sometimes offered to carry + Susy to Paris, and they devoted several long and hectic mornings to the + dress-makers, where Susy felt herself gradually succumbing to the familiar + spell of heaped-up finery. It seemed impossible, as furs and laces and + brocades were tossed aside, brought back, and at last carelessly selected + from, that anything but the whim of the moment need count in deciding + whether one should take all or none, or that any woman could be worth + looking at who did not possess the means to make her choice regardless of + cost. + </p> + <p> + Once alone, and in the street again, the evil fumes would evaporate, and + daylight re-enter Susy’s soul; yet she felt that the old poison was slowly + insinuating itself into her system. To dispel it she decided one day to + look up Grace Fulmer. She was curious to know how the happy-go-lucky + companion of Fulmer’s evil days was bearing the weight of his prosperity, + and she vaguely felt that it would be refreshing to see some one who had + never been afraid of poverty. + </p> + <p> + The airless pension sitting-room, where she waited while a reluctant + maid-servant screamed about the house for Mrs. Fulmer, did not have the + hoped-for effect. It was one thing for Grace to put up with such quarters + when she shared them with Fulmer; but to live there while he basked in the + lingering radiance of Versailles, or rolled from chateau to picture + gallery in Mrs. Melrose’s motor, showed a courage that Susy felt unable to + emulate. + </p> + <p> + “My dear! I knew you’d look me up,” Grace’s joyous voice ran down the + stairway; and in another moment she was clasping Susy to her tumbled + person. + </p> + <p> + “Nat couldn’t remember if he’d given you our address, though he promised + me he would, the last time he was here.” She held Susy at arms’ length, + beaming upon her with blinking short-sighted eyes: the same old + dishevelled Grace, so careless of her neglected beauty and her squandered + youth, so amused and absent-minded and improvident, that the boisterous + air of the New Hampshire bungalow seemed to enter with her into the little + air-tight salon. + </p> + <p> + While she poured out the tale of Nat’s sudden celebrity, and its + unexpected consequences, Susy marvelled and dreamed. Was the secret of his + triumph perhaps due to those long hard unrewarded years, the steadfast + scorn of popularity, the indifference to every kind of material ease in + which his wife had so gaily abetted him? Had it been bought at the cost of + her own freshness and her own talent, of the children’s “advantages,” of + everything except the closeness of the tie between husband and wife? Well—it + was worth the price, no doubt; but what if, now that honours and + prosperity had come, the tie were snapped, and Grace were left alone among + the ruins? + </p> + <p> + There was nothing in her tone or words to suggest such a possibility. Susy + noticed that her ill-assorted raiment was costlier in quality and more + professional in cut than the home-made garments which had draped her + growing bulk at the bungalow: it was clear that she was trying to dress up + to Nat’s new situation. But, above all, she was rejoicing in it, filling + her hungry lungs with the strong air of his success. It had evidently not + occurred to her as yet that those who consent to share the bread of + adversity may want the whole cake of prosperity for themselves. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, it’s too wonderful! He’s told me to take as many concert and + opera tickets as I like; he lets me take all the children with me. The big + concerts don’t begin till later; but of course the Opera is always going. + And there are little things—there’s music in Paris at all seasons. + And later it’s just possible we may get to Munich for a week—oh, + Susy!” Her hands clasped, her eyes brimming, she drank the new wine of + life almost sacramentally. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember, Susy, when you and Nick came to stay at the bungalow? + Nat said you’d be horrified by our primitiveness—but I knew better! And I + was right, wasn’t I? Seeing us so happy made you and Nick decide to follow + our example, didn’t it?” She glowed with the remembrance. “And now, what + are your plans? Is Nick’s book nearly done? I suppose you’ll have to live + very economically till he finds a publisher. And the baby, darling—when is + that to be? If you’re coming home soon I could let you have a lot of the + children’s little old things.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re always so dear, Grace. But we haven’t any special plans as yet—not + even for a baby. And I wish you’d tell me all of yours instead.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Fulmer asked nothing better: Susy perceived that, so far, the greater + part of her European experience had consisted in talking about what it was + to be. “Well, you see, Nat is so taken up all day with sight-seeing and + galleries and meeting important people that he hasn’t had time to go about + with us; and as so few theatres are open, and there’s so little music, + I’ve taken the opportunity to catch up with my mending. Junie helps me + with it now—she’s our eldest, you remember? She’s grown into a big + girl since you saw her. And later, perhaps, we’re to travel. And the most + wonderful thing of all—next to Nat’s recognition, I mean—is + not having to contrive and skimp, and give up something every single + minute. Just think—Nat has even made special arrangements here in + the pension, so that the children all have second helpings to everything. + And when I go up to bed I can think of my music, instead of lying awake + calculating and wondering how I can make things come out at the end of the + month. Oh, Susy, that’s simply heaven!” + </p> + <p> + Susy’s heart contracted. She had come to her friend to be taught again the + lesson of indifference to material things, and instead she was hearing + from Grace Fulmer’s lips the long-repressed avowal of their tyranny. After + all, that battle with poverty on the New Hampshire hillside had not been + the easy smiling business that Grace and Nat had made it appear. And yet + ... and yet.... + </p> + <p> + Susy stood up abruptly, and straightened the expensive hat which hung + irresponsibly over Grace’s left ear. + </p> + <p> + “What’s wrong with it? Junie helped me choose it, and she generally + knows,” Mrs. Fulmer wailed with helpless hands. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the way you wear it, dearest—and the bow is rather top-heavy. + Let me have it a minute, please.” Susy lifted the hat from her friend’s + head and began to manipulate its trimming. “This is the way Maria Guy or + Suzanne would do it.... And now go on about Nat....” + </p> + <p> + She listened musingly while Grace poured forth the tale of her husband’s + triumph, of the notices in the papers, the demand for his work, the fine + ladies’ battles over their priority in discovering him, and the multiplied + orders that had resulted from their rivalry. + </p> + <p> + “Of course they’re simply furious with each other—Mrs. Melrose and Mrs. + Gillow especially—because each one pretends to have been the first + to notice his ‘Spring Snow-Storm,’ and in reality it wasn’t either of + them, but only poor Bill Haslett, an art-critic we’ve known for years, who + chanced on the picture, and rushed off to tell a dealer who was looking + for a new painter to push.” Grace suddenly raised her soft myopic eyes to + Susy’s face. “But, do you know, the funny thing is that I believe Nat is + beginning to forget this, and to believe that it was Mrs. Melrose who + stopped short in front of his picture on the opening day, and screamed + out: ‘This is genius!’ It seems funny he should care so much, when I’ve + always known he had genius—and he has known it too. But they’re all so + kind to him; and Mrs. Melrose especially. And I suppose it makes a thing + sound new to hear it said in a new voice.” + </p> + <p> + Susy looked at her meditatively. “And how should you feel if Nat liked too + much to hear Mrs. Melrose say it? Too much, I mean, to care any longer + what you felt or thought?” + </p> + <p> + Her friend’s worn face flushed quickly, and then paled: Susy almost + repented the question. But Mrs. Fulmer met it with a tranquil dignity. + “You haven’t been married long enough, dear, to understand... how people + like Nat and me feel about such things... or how trifling they seem, in + the balance... the balance of one’s memories.” + </p> + <p> + Susy stood up again, and flung her arms about her friend. “Oh, Grace,” she + laughed with wet eyes, “how can you be as wise as that, and yet not have + sense enough to buy a decent hat?” She gave Mrs. Fulmer a quick embrace + and hurried away. She had learned her lesson after all; but it was not + exactly the one she had come to seek. + </p> + <p> + The week she had allowed herself had passed, and still there was no word + from Nick. She allowed herself yet another day, and that too went by + without a letter. She then decided on a step from which her pride had + hitherto recoiled; she would call at the bank and ask for Nick’s address. + She called, embarrassed and hesitating; and was told, after enquiries in + the post-office department, that Mr. Nicholas Lansing had given no address + since that of the Palazzo Vanderlyn, three months previously. She went + back to Versailles that afternoon with the definite intention of writing + to Strefford unless the next morning’s post brought a letter. + </p> + <p> + The next morning brought nothing from Nick, but a scribbled message from + Mrs. Melrose: would Susy, as soon as possible, come into her room for a + word, Susy jumped up, hurried through her bath, and knocked at her + hostess’s door. In the immense low bed that faced the rich umbrage of the + park Mrs. Melrose lay smoking cigarettes and glancing over her letters. + She looked up with her vague smile, and said dreamily: “Susy darling, have + you any particular plans—for the next few months, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + Susy coloured: she knew the intonation of old, and fancied she understood + what it implied. + </p> + <p> + “Plans, dearest? Any number... I’m tearing myself away the day after + to-morrow... to the Gillows’ moor, very probably,” she hastened to + announce. + </p> + <p> + Instead of the relief she had expected to read on Mrs. Melrose’s dramatic + countenance she discovered there the blankest disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, really? That’s too bad. Is it absolutely settled—?” + </p> + <p> + “As far as I’m concerned,” said Susy crisply. + </p> + <p> + The other sighed. “I’m too sorry. You see, dear, I’d meant to ask you to + stay on here quietly and look after the Fulmer children. Fulmer and I are + going to Spain next week—I want to be with him when he makes his + studies, receives his first impressions; such a marvellous experience, to + be there when he and Velasquez meet!” She broke off, lost in prospective + ecstasy. “And, you see, as Grace Fulmer insists on coming with us—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there are the five children—such a problem,” sighed the + benefactress. “If you were at a loose end, you know, dear, while Nick’s + away with his friends, I could really make it worth your while....” + </p> + <p> + “So awfully good of you, Violet; only I’m not, as it happens.” + </p> + <p> + Oh the relief of being able to say that, gaily, firmly and even + truthfully! Take charge of the Fulmer children, indeed! Susy remembered + how Nick and she had fled from them that autumn afternoon in New + Hampshire. The offer gave her a salutary glimpse of the way in which, as + the years passed, and she lost her freshness and novelty, she would more + and more be used as a convenience, a stop-gap, writer of notes, runner of + errands, nursery governess or companion. She called to mind several + elderly women of her acquaintance, pensioners of her own group, who still + wore its livery, struck its attitudes and chattered its jargon, but had + long since been ruthlessly relegated to these slave-ant offices. Never in + the world would she join their numbers. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Melrose’s face fell, and she looked at Susy with the plaintive + bewilderment of the wielder of millions to whom everything that cannot be + bought is imperceptible. + </p> + <p> + “But I can’t see why you can’t change your plans,” she murmured with a + soft persistency. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, you know”—Susy paused on a slow inward smile—“they’re + not mine only, as it happens.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Melrose’s brow clouded. The unforeseen complication of Mrs. Fulmer’s + presence on the journey had evidently tried her nerves, and this new + obstacle to her arrangements shook her faith in the divine order of + things. + </p> + <p> + “Your plans are not yours only? But surely you won’t let Ursula Gillow + dictate to you?... There’s my jade pendant; the one you said you liked the + other day.... The Fulmers won’t go with me, you understand, unless they’re + satisfied about the children; the whole plan will fall through. Susy + darling, you were always too unselfish; I hate to see you sacrificed to + Ursula.” + </p> + <p> + Susy’s smile lingered. Time was when she might have been glad to add the + jade pendant to the collection already enriched by Ellie Vanderlyn’s + sapphires; more recently, she would have resented the offer as an insult + to her newly-found principles. But already the mere fact that she might + henceforth, if she chose, be utterly out of reach of such bribes, enabled + her to look down on them with tolerance. Oh, the blessed moral freedom + that wealth conferred! She recalled Mrs. Fulmer’s uncontrollable cry: “The + most wonderful thing of all is not having to contrive and skimp, and give + up something every single minute!” Yes; it was only on such terms that one + could call one’s soul one’s own. The sense of it gave Susy the grace to + answer amicably: “If I could possibly help you out, Violet, I shouldn’t + want a present to persuade me. And, as you say, there’s no reason why I + should sacrifice myself to Ursula—or to anybody else. Only, as it + happens”—she paused and took the plunge—“I’m going to England + because I’ve promised to see a friend.” That night she wrote to Strefford. + </p> + + +<h3>XVI.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Stretched</span> out under an awning on the deck of the Ibis, Nick Lansing looked + up for a moment at the vanishing cliffs of Malta and then plunged again + into his book. + </p> + <p> + He had had nearly three weeks of drug-taking on the Ibis. The drugs he had + absorbed were of two kinds: visions of fleeing landscapes, looming up from + the blue sea to vanish into it again, and visions of study absorbed from + the volumes piled up day and night at his elbow. For the first time in + months he was in reach of a real library, just the kind of scholarly yet + miscellaneous library, that his restless and impatient spirit craved. He + was aware that the books he read, like the fugitive scenes on which he + gazed, were merely a form of anesthetic: he swallowed them with the + careless greed of the sufferer who seeks only to still pain and deaden + memory. But they were beginning to produce in him a moral languor that was + not disagreeable, that, indeed, compared with the fierce pain of the first + days, was almost pleasurable. It was exactly the kind of drug that he + needed. + </p> + <p> + There is probably no point on which the average man has more definite + views than on the uselessness of writing a letter that is hard to write. + In the line he had sent to Susy from Genoa Nick had told her that she + would hear from him again in a few days; but when the few days had passed, + and he began to consider setting himself to the task, he found fifty + reasons for postponing it. + </p> + <p> + Had there been any practical questions to write about it would have been + different; he could not have borne for twenty-four hours the idea that she + was in uncertainty as to money. But that had all been settled long ago. + From the first she had had the administering of their modest fortune. On + their marriage Nick’s own meagre income, paid in, none too regularly, by + the agent who had managed for years the dwindling family properties, had + been transferred to her: it was the only wedding present he could make. + And the wedding cheques had of course all been deposited in her name. + There were therefore no “business” reasons for communicating with her; and + when it came to reasons of another order the mere thought of them benumbed + him. + </p> + <p> + For the first few days he reproached himself for his inertia; then he + began to seek reasons for justifying it. After all, for both their sakes a + waiting policy might be the wisest he could pursue. He had left Susy + because he could not tolerate the conditions on which he had discovered + their life together to be based; and he had told her so. What more was + there to say? + </p> + <p> + Nothing was changed in their respective situations; if they came together + it could be only to resume the same life; and that, as the days went by, + seemed to him more and more impossible. He had not yet reached the point + of facing a definite separation; but whenever his thoughts travelled back + over their past life he recoiled from any attempt to return to it. As long + as this state of mind continued there seemed nothing to add to the letter + he had already written, except indeed the statement that he was cruising + with the Hickses. And he saw no pressing reason for communicating that. + </p> + <p> + To the Hickses he had given no hint of his situation. When Coral Hicks, a + fortnight earlier, had picked him up in the broiling streets of Genoa, and + carried him off to the Ibis, he had thought only of a cool dinner and + perhaps a moonlight sail. Then, in reply to their friendly urging, he had + confessed that he had not been well—had indeed gone off hurriedly + for a few days’ change of air—and that left him without defence + against the immediate proposal that he should take his change of air on + the Ibis. They were just off to Corsica and Sardinia, and from there to + Sicily: he could rejoin the railway at Naples, and be back at Venice in + ten days. + </p> + <p> + Ten days of respite—the temptation was irresistible. And he really + liked the kind uncomplicated Hickses. A wholesome honesty and simplicity + breathed through all their opulence, as if the rich trappings of their + present life still exhaled the fragrance of their native prairies. The + mere fact of being with such people was like a purifying bath. When the + yacht touched at Naples he agreed since they were so awfully kind—to + go on to Sicily. And when the chief steward, going ashore at Naples for + the last time before they got up steam, said: “Any letters for the post, + sir?” he answered, as he had answered at each previous halt: “No, thank + you: none.” + </p> + <p> + Now they were heading for Rhodes and Crete—Crete, where he had never + been, where he had so often longed to go. In spite of the lateness of the + season the weather was still miraculously fine: the short waves danced + ahead under a sky without a cloud, and the strong bows of the Ibis hardly + swayed as she flew forward over the flying crests. + </p> + <p> + Only his hosts and their daughter were on the yacht—of course with + Eldorada Tooker and Mr. Beck in attendance. An eminent archaeologist, who + was to have joined them at Naples, had telegraphed an excuse at the last + moment; and Nick noticed that, while Mrs. Hicks was perpetually + apologizing for the great man’s absence, Coral merely smiled and said + nothing. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, Mr. and Mrs. Hicks were never as pleasant as when one + had them to one’s self. In company, Mr. Hicks ran the risk of appearing + over-hospitable, and Mrs. Hicks confused dates and names in the desire to + embrace all culture in her conversation. But alone with Nick, their old + travelling-companion, they shone out in their native simplicity, and Mr. + Hicks talked soundly of investments, and Mrs. Hicks recalled her early + married days in Apex City, when, on being brought home to her new house in + Aeschylus Avenue, her first thought had been: “How on earth shall I get + all those windows washed?” + </p> + <p> + The loss of Mr. Buttles had been as serious to them as Nick had supposed: + Mr. Beck could never hope to replace him. Apart from his mysterious gift + of languages, and his almost superhuman faculty for knowing how to address + letters to eminent people, and in what terms to conclude them, he had a + smattering of archaeology and general culture on which Mrs. Hicks had + learned to depend—her own memory being, alas, so inadequate to the + range of her interests. + </p> + <p> + Her daughter might perhaps have helped her; but it was not Miss Hicks’s + way to mother her parents. She was exceedingly kind to them, but left + them, as it were, to bring themselves up as best they could, while she + pursued her own course of self-development. A sombre zeal for knowledge + filled the mind of this strange girl: she appeared interested only in + fresh opportunities of adding to her store of facts. They were illuminated + by little imagination and less poetry; but, carefully catalogued and + neatly sorted in her large cool brain, they were always as accessible as + the volumes in an up-to-date public library. + </p> + <p> + To Nick there was something reposeful in this lucid intellectual + curiosity. He wanted above all things to get away from sentiment, from + seduction, from the moods and impulses and flashing contradictions that + were Susy. Susy was not a great reader: her store of facts was small, and + she had grown up among people who dreaded ideas as much as if they had + been a contagious disease. But, in the early days especially, when Nick + had put a book in her hand, or read a poem to her, her swift intelligence + had instantly shed a new light on the subject, and, penetrating to its + depths, had extracted from them whatever belonged to her. What a pity that + this exquisite insight, this intuitive discrimination, should for the most + part have been spent upon reading the thoughts of vulgar people, and + extracting a profit from them—should have been wasted, since her + childhood, on all the hideous intricacies of “managing”! + </p> + <p> + And visible beauty—how she cared for that too! He had not guessed + it, or rather he had not been sure of it, till the day when, on their way + through Paris, he had taken her to the Louvre, and they had stood before + the little Crucifixion of Mantegna. He had not been looking at the + picture, or watching to see what impression it produced on Susy. His own + momentary mood was for Correggio and Fragonard, the laughter of the Music + Lesson and the bold pagan joys of the Antiope; and then he had missed her + from his side, and when he came to where she stood, forgetting him, + forgetting everything, had seen the glare of that tragic sky in her face, + her trembling lip, the tears on her lashes. That was Susy.... + </p> + <p> + Closing his book he stole a glance at Coral Hicks’s profile, thrown back + against the cushions of the deck-chair at his side. There was something + harsh and bracing in her blunt primitive build, in the projection of the + black eyebrows that nearly met over her thick straight nose, and the faint + barely visible black down on her upper lip. Some miracle of will-power, + combined with all the artifices that wealth can buy, had turned the fat + sallow girl he remembered into this commanding young woman, almost + handsome at times indisputably handsome—in her big authoritative + way. Watching the arrogant lines of her profile against the blue sea, he + remembered, with a thrill that was sweet to his vanity, how twice—under + the dome of the Scalzi and in the streets of Genoa—he had seen those + same lines soften at his approach, turn womanly, pleading and almost + humble. That was Coral.... + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she said, without turning toward him: “You’ve had no letters + since you’ve been on board.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, surprised. “No—thank the Lord!” he laughed. + </p> + <p> + “And you haven’t written one either,” she continued in her hard + statistical tone. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he again agreed, with the same laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That means that you really are free—” + </p> + <p> + “Free?” + </p> + <p> + He saw the cheek nearest him redden. “Really off on a holiday, I mean; not + tied down.” After a pause he rejoined: “No, I’m not particularly tied + down.” + </p> + <p> + “And your book?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my book—” He stopped and considered. He had thrust The Pageant + of Alexander into his handbag on the night of his Bight from Venice; but + since then he had never looked at it. Too many memories and illusions were + pressed between its pages; and he knew just at what page he had felt Ellie + Vanderlyn bending over him from behind, caught a whiff of her scent, and + heard her breathless “I had to thank you!” + </p> + <p> + “My book’s hung up,” he said impatiently, annoyed with Miss Hicks’s lack + of tact. There was a girl who never put out feelers.... + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I thought it was,” she went on quietly, and he gave her a startled + glance. What the devil else did she think, he wondered? He had never + supposed her capable of getting far enough out of her own thick carapace + of self-sufficiency to penetrate into any one else’s feelings. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is,” he continued, embarrassed, “I suppose I dug away at it + rather too continuously; that’s probably why I felt the need of a change. + You see I’m only a beginner.” + </p> + <p> + She still continued her relentless questioning. “But later—you’ll go + on with it, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know.” He paused, glanced down the glittering deck, and then + out across the glittering water. “I’ve been dreaming dreams, you see. I + rather think I shall have to drop the book altogether, and try to look out + for a job that will pay. To indulge in my kind of literature one must + first have an assured income.” + </p> + <p> + He was instantly annoyed with himself for having spoken. Hitherto in his + relations with the Hickses he had carefully avoided the least allusion + that might make him feel the heavy hand of their beneficence. But the idle + procrastinating weeks had weakened him and he had yielded to the need of + putting into words his vague intentions. To do so would perhaps help to + make them more definite. + </p> + <p> + To his relief Miss Hicks made no immediate reply; and when she spoke it + was in a softer voice and with an unwonted hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “It seems a shame that with gifts like yours you shouldn’t find some kind + of employment that would leave you leisure enough to do your real + work....” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged ironically. “Yes—there are a goodish number of us + hunting for that particular kind of employment.” + </p> + <p> + Her tone became more business-like. “I know it’s hard to find—almost + impossible. But would you take it, I wonder, if it were offered to you—?” + </p> + <p> + She turned her head slightly, and their eyes met. For an instant blank + terror loomed upon him; but before he had time to face it she continued, + in the same untroubled voice: “Mr. Buttles’s place, I mean. My parents + must absolutely have some one they can count on. You know what an easy + place it is.... I think you would find the salary satisfactory.” + </p> + <p> + Nick drew a deep breath of relief. For a moment her eyes had looked as + they had in the Scalzi—and he liked the girl too much not to shrink + from reawakening that look. But Mr. Buttles’s place: why not? + </p> + <p> + “Poor Buttles!” he murmured, to gain time. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she said, “you won’t find the same reasons as he did for throwing up + the job. He was the martyr of his artistic convictions.” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at her sideways, wondering. After all she did not know of his + meeting with Mr. Buttles in Genoa, nor of the latter’s confidences; + perhaps she did not even know of Mr. Buttles’s hopeless passion. At any + rate her face remained calm. + </p> + <p> + “Why not consider it—at least just for a few months? Till after our + expedition to Mesopotamia?” she pressed on, a little breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “You’re awfully kind: but I don’t know—” + </p> + <p> + She stood up with one of her abrupt movements. “You needn’t, all at once. + Take time think it over. Father wanted me to ask you,” she appended. + </p> + <p> + He felt the inadequacy of his response. “It tempts me awfully, of course. + But I must wait, at any rate—wait for letters. The fact is I shall + have to wire from Rhodes to have them sent. I had chucked everything, even + letters, for a few weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are tired,” she murmured, giving him a last downward glance as + she turned away. + </p> + <p> + From Rhodes Nick Lansing telegraphed to his Paris bank to send his letters + to Candia; but when the Ibis reached Candia, and the mail was brought on + board, the thick envelope handed to him contained no letter from Susy. + </p> + <p> + Why should it, since he had not yet written to her? + </p> + <p> + He had not written, no: but in sending his address to the bank he knew he + had given her the opportunity of reaching him if she wished to. And she + had made no sign. + </p> + <p> + Late that afternoon, when they returned to the yacht from their first + expedition, a packet of newspapers lay on the deck-house table. Nick + picked up one of the London journals, and his eye ran absently down the + list of social events. + </p> + <p> + He read: + </p> + <p> + “Among the visitors expected next week at Ruan Castle (let for the season + to Mr. Frederick J. Gillow of New York) are Prince Altineri of Rome, the + Earl of Altringham and Mrs. Nicholas Lansing, who arrived in London last + week from Paris.” Nick threw down the paper. It was just a month since he + had left the Palazzo Vanderlyn and flung himself into the night express + for Milan. A whole month—and Susy had not written. Only a month—and + Susy and Strefford were already together! + </p> + + +<h3>XVII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Susy</span> had decided to wait for Strefford in London. + </p> + <p> + The new Lord Altringham was with his family in the north, and though she + found a telegram on arriving, saying that he would join her in town the + following week, she had still an interval of several days to fill. + </p> + <p> + London was a desert; the rain fell without ceasing, and alone in the + shabby family hotel which, even out of season, was the best she could + afford, she sat at last face to face with herself. + </p> + <p> + From the moment when Violet Melrose had failed to carry out her plan for + the Fulmer children her interest in Susy had visibly waned. Often before, + in the old days, Susy Branch had felt the same abrupt change of + temperature in the manner of the hostess of the moment; and often—how + often—had yielded, and performed the required service, rather than + risk the consequences of estrangement. To that, at least, thank heaven, + she need never stoop again. + </p> + <p> + But as she hurriedly packed her trunks at Versailles, scraped together an + adequate tip for Mrs. Match, and bade good-bye to Violet (grown suddenly + fond and demonstrative as she saw her visitor safely headed for the + station)—as Susy went through the old familiar mummery of the + enforced leave-taking, there rose in her so deep a disgust for the life of + makeshifts and accommodations, that if at that moment Nick had reappeared + and held out his arms to her, she was not sure she would have had the + courage to return to them. + </p> + <p> + In her London solitude the thirst for independence grew fiercer. + Independence with ease, of course. Oh, her hateful useless love of + beauty... the curse it had always been to her, the blessing it might have + been if only she had had the material means to gratify and to express it! + And instead, it only gave her a morbid loathing of that hideous hotel + bedroom drowned in yellow rain-light, of the smell of soot and cabbage + through the window, the blistered wall-paper, the dusty wax bouquets under + glass globes, and the electric lighting so contrived that as you turned on + the feeble globe hanging from the middle of the ceiling the feebler one + beside the bed went out! + </p> + <p> + What a sham world she and Nick had lived in during their few months + together! What right had either of them to those exquisite settings of the + life of leisure: the long white house hidden in camellias and cypresses + above the lake, or the great rooms on the Giudecca with the shimmer of the + canal always playing over their frescoed ceilings! Yet she had come to + imagine that these places really belonged to them, that they would always + go on living, fondly and irreproachably, in the frame of other people’s + wealth.... That, again, was the curse of her love of beauty, the way she + always took to it as if it belonged to her! + </p> + <p> + Well, the awakening was bound to come, and it was perhaps better that it + should have come so soon. At any rate there was no use in letting her + thoughts wander back to that shattered fool’s paradise of theirs. Only, as + she sat there and reckoned up the days till Strefford arrived, what else + in the world was there to think of? + </p> + <p> + Her future and his? + </p> + <p> + But she knew that future by heart already! She had not spent her life + among the rich and fashionable without having learned every detail of the + trappings of a rich and fashionable marriage. She had calculated long ago + just how many dinner-dresses, how many tea-gowns and how much lacy + lingerie would go to make up the outfit of the future Countess of + Altringham. She had even decided to which dressmaker she would go for her + chinchilla cloak—for she meant to have one, and down to her feet, and + softer and more voluminous and more extravagantly sumptuous than Violet’s + or Ursula’s... not to speak of silver foxes and sables... nor yet of the + Altringham jewels. + </p> + <p> + She knew all this by heart; had always known it. It all belonged to the + make-up of the life of elegance: there was nothing new about it. What had + been new to her was just that short interval with Nick—a life unreal + indeed in its setting, but so real in its essentials: the one reality she + had ever known. As she looked back on it she saw how much it had given her + besides the golden flush of her happiness, the sudden flowering of + sensuous joy in heart and body. Yes—there had been the flowering + too, in pain like birth-pangs, of something graver, stronger, fuller of + future power, something she had hardly heeded in her first light rapture, + but that always came back and possessed her stilled soul when the rapture + sank: the deep disquieting sense of something that Nick and love had + taught her, but that reached out even beyond love and beyond Nick. + </p> + <p> + Her nerves were racked by the ceaseless swish, swish of the rain on the + dirty panes and the smell of cabbage and coal that came in under the door + when she shut the window. This nauseating foretaste of the luncheon she + must presently go down to was more than she could bear. It brought with it + a vision of the dank coffee-room below, the sooty Smyrna rug, the rain on + the sky-light, the listless waitresses handing about food that tasted as + if it had been rained on too. There was really no reason why she should + let such material miseries add to her depression.... + </p> + <p> + She sprang up, put on her hat and jacket, and calling for a taxi drove to + the London branch of the Nouveau Luxe hotel. It was just one o’clock and + she was sure to pick up a luncheon, for though London was empty that great + establishment was not. It never was. Along those sultry velvet-carpeted + halls, in that great flowered and scented dining-room, there was always a + come-and-go of rich aimless people, the busy people who, having nothing to + do, perpetually pursue their inexorable task from one end of the earth to + the other. + </p> + <p> + Oh, the monotony of those faces—the faces one always knew, whether + one knew the people they belonged to or not! A fresh disgust seized her at + the sight of them: she wavered, and then turned and fled. But on the + threshold a still more familiar figure met her: that of a lady in + exaggerated pearls and sables, descending from an exaggerated motor, like + the motors in magazine advertisements, the huge arks in which jewelled + beauties and slender youths pause to gaze at snowpeaks from an Alpine + summit. + </p> + <p> + It was Ursula Gillow—dear old Ursula, on her way to Scotland—and + she and Susy fell on each other’s necks. It appeared that Ursula, detained + till the next evening by a dress-maker’s delay, was also out of a job and + killing time, and the two were soon smiling at each other over the + exquisite preliminaries of a luncheon which the head-waiter had + authoritatively asked Mrs. Gillow to “leave to him, as usual.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula was in a good humour. It did not often happen; but when it did her + benevolence knew no bounds. + </p> + <p> + Like Mrs. Melrose, like all her tribe in fact, she was too much absorbed + in her own affairs to give more than a passing thought to any one else’s; + but she was delighted at the meeting with Susy, as her wandering kind + always were when they ran across fellow-wanderers, unless the meeting + happened to interfere with choicer pleasures. Not to be alone was the + urgent thing; and Ursula, who had been forty-eight hours alone in London, + at once exacted from her friend a promise that they should spend the rest + of the day together. But once the bargain struck her mind turned again to + her own affairs, and she poured out her confidences to Susy over a + succession of dishes that manifested the head-waiter’s understanding of + the case. + </p> + <p> + Ursula’s confidences were always the same, though they were usually about + a different person. She demolished and rebuilt her sentimental life with + the same frequency and impetuosity as that with which she changed her + dress-makers, did over her drawing-rooms, ordered new motors, altered the + mounting of her jewels, and generally renewed the setting of her life. + Susy knew in advance what the tale would be; but to listen to it over + perfect coffee, an amber-scented cigarette at her lips, was pleasanter + than consuming cold mutton alone in a mouldy coffee-room. The contrast was + so soothing that she even began to take a languid interest in her friend’s + narrative. + </p> + <p> + After luncheon they got into the motor together and began a systematic + round of the West End shops: furriers, jewellers and dealers in old + furniture. Nothing could be more unlike Violet Melrose’s long hesitating + sessions before the things she thought she wanted till the moment came to + decide. Ursula pounced on silver foxes and old lacquer as promptly and + decisively as on the objects of her surplus sentimentality: she knew at + once what she wanted, and valued it more after it was hers. + </p> + <p> + “And now—I wonder if you couldn’t help me choose a grand piano?” she + suggested, as the last antiquarian bowed them out. + </p> + <p> + “A piano?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: for Ruan. I’m sending one down for Grace Fulmer. She’s coming to + stay... did I tell you? I want people to hear her. I want her to get + engagements in London. My dear, she’s a Genius.” + </p> + <p> + “A Genius—Grace!” Susy gasped. “I thought it was Nat....” + </p> + <p> + “Nat—Nat Fulmer?” Ursula laughed derisively. “Ah, of course—you’ve + been staying with that silly Violet! The poor thing is off her head about + Nat—it’s really pitiful. Of course he has talent: I saw that long + before Violet had ever heard of him. Why, on the opening day of the + American Artists’ exhibition, last winter, I stopped short before his + ‘Spring Snow-Storm’ (which nobody else had noticed till that moment), and + said to the Prince, who was with me: ‘The man has talent.’ But genius—why, + it’s his wife who has genius! Have you never heard Grace play the violin? + Poor Violet, as usual, is off on the wrong tack. I’ve given Fulmer my + garden-house to do—no doubt Violet told you—because I wanted + to help him. But Grace is my discovery, and I’m determined to make her + known, and to have every one understand that she is the genius of the two. + I’ve told her she simply must come to Ruan, and bring the best + accompanyist she can find. You know poor Nerone is dreadfully bored by + sport, though of course he goes out with the guns. And if one didn’t have + a little art in the evening.... Oh, Susy, do you mean to tell me you don’t + know how to choose a piano? I thought you were so fond of music!” + </p> + <p> + “I am fond of it; but without knowing anything about it—in the way + we’re all of us fond of the worthwhile things in our stupid set,” she + added to herself—since it was obviously useless to impart such + reflections to Ursula. + </p> + <p> + “But are you sure Grace is coming?” she questioned aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure. Why shouldn’t she? I wired to her yesterday. I’m giving her a + thousand dollars and all her expenses.” + </p> + <p> + It was not till they were having tea in a Piccadilly tea-room that Mrs. + Gillow began to manifest some interest in her companion’s plans. The + thought of losing Susy became suddenly intolerable to her. The Prince, who + did not see why he should be expected to linger in London out of season, + was already at Ruan, and Ursula could not face the evening and the whole + of the next day by herself. + </p> + <p> + “But what are you doing in town, darling, I don’t remember if I’ve asked + you,” she said, resting her firm elbows on the tea-table while she took a + light from Susy’s cigarette. + </p> + <p> + Susy hesitated. She had foreseen that the time must soon come when she + should have to give some account of herself; and why should she not begin + by telling Ursula? + </p> + <p> + But telling her what? + </p> + <p> + Her silence appeared to strike Mrs. Gillow as a reproach, and she + continued with compunction: “And Nick? Nick’s with you? How is he, I + thought you and he still were in Venice with Ellie Vanderlyn.” + </p> + <p> + “We were, for a few weeks.” She steadied her voice. “It was delightful. + But now we’re both on our own again—for a while.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gillow scrutinized her more searchingly. “Oh, you’re alone here, + then; quite alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: Nick’s cruising with some friends in the Mediterranean.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula’s shallow gaze deepened singularly. “But, Susy darling, then if + you’re alone—and out of a job, just for the moment?” + </p> + <p> + Susy smiled. “Well, I’m not sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but if you are, darling, and you would come to Ruan! I know Fred + asked you didn’t he? And he told me that both you and Nick had refused. He + was awfully huffed at your not coming; but I suppose that was because Nick + had other plans. We couldn’t have him now, because there’s no room for + another gun; but since he’s not here, and you’re free, why you know, + dearest, don’t you, how we’d love to have you? Fred would be too glad—too + outrageously glad—but you don’t much mind Fred’s love-making, do + you? And you’d be such a help to me—if that’s any argument! With + that big house full of men, and people flocking over every night to dine, + and Fred caring only for sport, and Nerone simply loathing it and + ridiculing it, and not a minute to myself to try to keep him in a good + humour.... Oh, Susy darling, don’t say no, but let me telephone at once + for a place in the train to-morrow night!” + </p> + <p> + Susy leaned back, letting the ash lengthen on her cigarette. How familiar, + how hatefully familiar, was that old appeal! Ursula felt the pressing need + of someone to flirt with Fred for a few weeks... and here was the very + person she needed. Susy shivered at the thought. She had never really + meant to go to Ruan. She had simply used the moor as a pretext when Violet + Melrose had gently put her out of doors. Rather than do what Ursula asked + she would borrow a few hundred pounds of Strefford, as he had suggested, + and then look about for some temporary occupation until— + </p> + <p> + Until she became Lady Altringham? Well, perhaps. At any rate, she was not + going back to slave for Ursula. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head with a faint smile. “I’m so sorry, Ursula: of course I + want awfully to oblige you—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gillow’s gaze grew reproachful. “I should have supposed you would,” + she murmured. Susy, meeting her eyes, looked into them down a long vista + of favours bestowed, and perceived that Ursula was not the woman to forget + on which side the obligation lay between them. + </p> + <p> + Susy hesitated: she remembered the weeks of ecstasy she had owed to the + Gillows’ wedding cheque, and it hurt her to appear ungrateful. + </p> + <p> + “If I could, Ursula... but really... I’m not free at the moment.” She + paused, and then took an abrupt decision. “The fact is, I’m waiting here + to see Strefford.” + </p> + <p> + “Strefford’ Lord Altringham?” Ursula stared. “Ah, yes-I remember. You and + he used to be great friends, didn’t you?” Her roving attention + deepened.... But if Susy were waiting to see Lord Altringham—one of + the richest men in England! Suddenly Ursula opened her gold-meshed bag and + snatched a miniature diary from it. + </p> + <p> + “But wait a moment—yes, it is next week! I knew it was next week + he’s coming to Ruan! But, you darling, that makes everything all right. + You’ll send him a wire at once, and come with me to-morrow, and meet him + there instead of in this nasty sloppy desert.... Oh, Susy, if you knew how + hard life is for me in Scotland between the Prince and Fred you couldn’t + possibly say no!” + </p> + <p> + Susy still wavered; but, after all, if Strefford were really bound for + Ruan, why not see him there, agreeably and at leisure, instead of spending + a dreary day with him in roaming the wet London streets, or screaming at + him through the rattle of a restaurant orchestra? She knew he would not be + likely to postpone his visit to Ruan in order to linger in London with + her: such concessions had never been his way, and were less than ever + likely to be, now that he could do so thoroughly and completely as he + pleased. + </p> + <p> + For the first time she fully understood how different his destiny had + become. Now of course all his days and hours were mapped out in advance: + invitations assailed him, opportunities pressed on him, he had only to + choose.... And the women! She had never before thought of the women. All + the girls in England would be wanting to marry him, not to mention her own + enterprising compatriots. And there were the married women, who were even + more to be feared. Streff might, for the time, escape marriage; though she + could guess the power of persuasion, family pressure, all the converging + traditional influences he had so often ridiculed, yet, as she knew, had + never completely thrown off.... Yes, those quiet invisible women at + Altringham—his uncle’s widow, his mother, the spinster sisters—it + was not impossible that, with tact and patience—and the stupidest + women could be tactful and patient on such occasions—they might + eventually persuade him that it was his duty, they might put just the + right young loveliness in his way.... But meanwhile, now, at once, there + were the married women. Ah, they wouldn’t wait, they were doubtless laying + their traps already! Susy shivered at the thought. She knew too much about + the way the trick was done, had followed, too often, all the sinuosities + of such approaches. Not that they were very sinuous nowadays: more often + there was just a swoop and a pounce when the time came; but she knew all + the arts and the wiles that led up to it. She knew them, oh, how she knew + them—though with Streff, thank heaven, she had never been called + upon to exercise them! His love was there for the asking: would she not be + a fool to refuse it? + </p> + <p> + Perhaps; though on that point her mind still wavered. But at any rate she + saw that, decidedly, it would be better to yield to Ursula’s pressure; + better to meet him at Ruan, in a congenial setting, where she would have + time to get her bearings, observe what dangers threatened him, and make up + her mind whether, after all, it was to be her mission to save him from the + other women. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you like, then, Ursula....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you angel, you! I’m so glad! We’ll go to the nearest post office, and + send off the wire ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + As they got into the motor Mrs. Gillow seized Susy’s arm with a pleading + pressure. “And you will let Fred make love to you a little, won’t you, + darling?” + </p> + + +<h3>XVIII.</h3> + + <p> + “<span class="smcap">But</span> I can’t think,” said Ellie Vanderlyn earnestly, “why you don’t + announce your engagement before waiting for your divorce. People are + beginning to do it, I assure you—it’s so much safer!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderlyn, on the way back from St. Moritz to England, had paused in + Paris to renew the depleted wardrobe which, only two months earlier, had + filled so many trunks to bursting. Other ladies, flocking there from all + points of the globe for the same purpose, disputed with her the Louis XVI + suites of the Nouveau Luxe, the pink-candled tables in the restaurant, the + hours for trying-on at the dressmakers’; and just because they were so + many, and all feverishly fighting to get the same things at the same time, + they were all excited, happy and at ease. It was the most momentous period + of the year: the height of the “dress makers’ season.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderlyn had run across Susy Lansing at one of the Rue de la Paix + openings, where rows of ladies wan with heat and emotion sat for hours in + rapt attention while spectral apparitions in incredible raiment tottered + endlessly past them on aching feet. + </p> + <p> + Distracted from the regal splendours of a chinchilla cloak by the sense + that another lady was also examining it, Mrs. Vanderlyn turned in surprise + at sight of Susy, whose head was critically bent above the fur. + </p> + <p> + “Susy! I’d no idea you were here! I saw in the papers that you were with + the Gillows.” The customary embraces followed; then Mrs. Vanderlyn, her + eyes pursuing the matchless cloak as it disappeared down a vista of + receding mannequins, interrogated sharply: “Are you shopping for Ursula? + If you mean to order that cloak for her I’d rather know.” + </p> + <p> + Susy smiled, and paused a moment before answering. During the pause she + took in all the exquisite details of Ellie Vanderlyn’s perpetually + youthful person, from the plumed crown of her head to the perfect arch of + her patent-leather shoes. At last she said quietly: “No—to-day I’m + shopping for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Yourself? Yourself?” Mrs. Vanderlyn echoed with a stare of incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; just for a change,” Susy serenely acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + “But the cloak—I meant the chinchilla cloak... the one with the + ermine lining....” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is awfully good, isn’t it? But I mean to look elsewhere before I + decide.” + </p> + <p> + Ah, how often she had heard her friends use that phrase; and how amusing + it was, now, to see Ellie’s amazement as she heard it tossed off in her + own tone of contemptuous satiety! Susy was becoming more and more + dependent on such diversions; without them her days, crowded as they were, + would nevertheless have dragged by heavily. But it still amused her to go + to the big dressmakers’, watch the mannequins sweep by, and be seen by her + friends superciliously examining all the most expensive dresses in the + procession. She knew the rumour was abroad that she and Nick were to be + divorced, and that Lord Altringham was “devoted” to her. She neither + confirmed nor denied the report: she just let herself be luxuriously + carried forward on its easy tide. But although it was now three months + since Nick had left the Palazzo Vanderlyn she had not yet written to him—nor + he to her. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, in spite of all that she packed into them, the days passed more + and more slowly, and the excitements she had counted on no longer excited + her. Strefford was hers: she knew that he would marry her as soon as she + was free. They had been together at Ruan for ten days, and after that she + had motored south with him, stopping on the way to see Altringham, from + which, at the moment, his mourning relatives were absent. + </p> + <p> + At Altringham they had parted; and after one or two more visits in England + she had come back to Paris, where he was now about to join her. After her + few hours at Altringham she had understood that he would wait for her as + long as was necessary: the fear of the “other women” had ceased to trouble + her. But, perhaps for that very reason, the future seemed less exciting + than she had expected. Sometimes she thought it was the sight of that + great house which had overwhelmed her: it was too vast, too venerable, too + like a huge monument built of ancient territorial traditions and + obligations. Perhaps it had been lived in for too long by too many + serious-minded and conscientious women: somehow she could not picture it + invaded by bridge and debts and adultery. And yet that was what would have + to be, of course... she could hardly picture either Strefford or herself + continuing there the life of heavy county responsibilities, dull parties, + laborious duties, weekly church-going, and presiding over local + committees.... What a pity they couldn’t sell it and have a little house + on the Thames! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless she was not sorry to let it be known that Altringham was hers + when she chose to take it. At times she wondered whether Nick knew... + whether rumours had reached him. If they had, he had only his own letter + to thank for it. He had told her what course to pursue; and she was + pursuing it. + </p> + <p> + For a moment the meeting with Ellie Vanderlyn had been a shock to her; she + had hoped never to see Ellie again. But now that they were actually face + to face Susy perceived how dulled her sensibilities were. In a few moments + she had grown used to Ellie, as she was growing used to everybody and to + everything in the old life she had returned to. What was the use of making + such a fuss about things? She and Mrs. Vanderlyn left the dress-maker’s + together, and after an absorbing session at a new milliner’s were now + taking tea in Ellie’s drawing-room at the Nouveau Luxe. + </p> + <p> + Ellie, with her spoiled child’s persistency, had come back to the question + of the chinchilla cloak. It was the only one she had seen that she fancied + in the very least, and as she hadn’t a decent fur garment left to her name + she was naturally in somewhat of a hurry... but, of course, if Susy had + been choosing that model for a friend.... + </p> + <p> + Susy, leaning back against her cushions, examined through half-closed lids + Mrs. Vanderlyn’s small delicately-restored countenance, which wore the + same expression of childish eagerness as when she discoursed of the young + Davenant of the moment. Once again Susy remarked that, in Ellie’s agitated + existence, every interest appeared to be on exactly the same plane. + </p> + <p> + “The poor shivering dear,” she answered laughing, “of course it shall have + its nice warm winter cloak, and I’ll choose another one instead.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you darling, you! If you would! Of course, whoever you were ordering + it for need never know....” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you can’t comfort yourself with that, I’m afraid. I’ve already told + you that I was ordering it for myself.” Susy paused to savour to the full + Ellie’s look of blank bewilderment; then her amusement was checked by an + indefinable change in her friend’s expression. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dearest—seriously? I didn’t know there was someone....” + </p> + <p> + Susy flushed to the forehead. A horror of humiliation overwhelmed her. + That Ellie should dare to think that of her—that anyone should dare + to! + </p> + <p> + “Someone buying chinchilla cloaks for me? Thanks!” she flared out. “I + suppose I ought to be glad that the idea didn’t immediately occur to you. + At least there was a decent interval of doubt....” She stood up, laughing + again, and began to wander about the room. In the mirror above the mantel + she caught sight of her flushed angry face, and of Mrs. Vanderlyn’s + disconcerted stare. She turned toward her friend. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose everybody else will think it if you do; so perhaps I’d better + explain.” She paused, and drew a quick breath. “Nick and I mean to part—have + parted, in fact. He’s decided that the whole thing was a mistake. He will + probably; marry again soon—and so shall I.” + </p> + <p> + She flung the avowal out breathlessly, in her nervous dread of letting + Ellie Vanderlyn think for an instant longer that any other explanation was + conceivable. She had not meant to be so explicit; but once the words were + spoken she was not altogether sorry. Of course people would soon begin to + wonder why she was again straying about the world alone; and since it was + by Nick’s choice, why should she not say so? Remembering the burning + anguish of those last hours in Venice she asked herself what possible + consideration she owed to the man who had so humbled her. + </p> + <p> + Ellie Vanderlyn glanced at her in astonishment. “You? You and Nick—are + going to part?” A light appeared to dawn on her. “Ah—then that’s why + he sent me back my pin, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Your pin?” Susy wondered, not at once remembering. + </p> + <p> + “The poor little scarf-pin I gave him before I left Venice. He sent it + back almost at once, with the oddest note—just: ‘I haven’t earned + it, really.’ I couldn’t think why he didn’t care for the pin. But, now I + suppose it was because you and he had quarrelled; though really, even so, + I can’t see why he should bear me a grudge....” + </p> + <p> + Susy’s quick blood surged up. Nick had sent back the pin—the fatal pin! + And she, Susy, had kept the bracelet—locked it up out of sight, + shrunk away from the little packet whenever her hand touched it in packing + or unpacking—but never thought of returning it, no, not once! Which + of the two, she wondered, had been right? Was it not an indirect slight to + her that Nick should fling back the gift to poor uncomprehending Ellie? Or + was it not rather another proof of his finer moral sensitiveness!... And + how could one tell, in their bewildering world, “It was not because we’ve + quarrelled; we haven’t quarrelled,” she said slowly, moved by the sudden + desire to defend her privacy and Nick’s, to screen from every eye their + last bitter hour together. “We’ve simply decided that our experiment was + impossible—for two paupers.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well—of course we all felt that at the time. And now somebody + else wants to marry you! And it’s your trousseau you were choosing that + cloak for?” Ellie cried in incredulous rapture; then she flung her arms + about Susy’s shrinking shoulders. “You lucky lucky girl! You clever clever + darling! But who on earth can he be?” + </p> + <p> + And it was then that Susy, for the first time, had pronounced the name of + Lord Altringham. + </p> + <p> + “Streff—Streff? Our dear old Streff, You mean to say he wants to + marry you?” As the news took possession of her mind Ellie became + dithyrambic. “But, my dearest, what a miracle of luck! Of course I always + knew he was awfully gone on you: Fred Davenant used to say so, I + remember... and even Nelson, who’s so stupid about such things, noticed it + in Venice.... But then it was so different. No one could possibly have + thought of marrying him then; whereas now of course every woman is trying + for him. Oh, Susy, whatever you do, don’t miss your chance! You can’t + conceive of the wicked plotting and intriguing there will be to get him—on + all sides, and even where one least suspects it. You don’t know what + horrors women will do—and even girls!” A shudder ran through her at the + thought, and she caught Susy’s wrists in vehement fingers. “But I can’t + think, my dear, why you don’t announce your engagement at once. People are + beginning to do it, I assure you—it’s so much safer!” + </p> + <p> + Susy looked at her, wondering. Not a word of sympathy for the ruin of her + brief bliss, not even a gleam of curiosity as to its cause! No doubt Ellie + Vanderlyn, like all Susy’s other friends, had long since “discounted” the + brevity of her dream, and perhaps planned a sequel to it before she + herself had seen the glory fading. She and Nick had spent the greater part + of their few weeks together under Ellie Vanderlyn’s roof; but to Ellie, + obviously, the fact meant no more than her own escapade, at the same + moment, with young Davenant’s supplanter—the “bounder” whom + Strefford had never named. Her one thought for her friend was that Susy + should at last secure her prize—her incredible prize. And therein at + any rate Ellie showed the kind of cold disinterestedness that raised her + above the smiling perfidy of the majority of her kind. At least her advice + was sincere; and perhaps it was wise. Why should Susy not let every one + know that she meant to marry Strefford as soon as the “formalities” were + fulfilled? + </p> + <p> + She did not immediately answer Mrs. Vanderlyn’s question; and the latter, + repeating it, added impatiently: “I don’t understand you; if Nick agrees—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he agrees,” said Susy. + </p> + <p> + “Then what more do you want! Oh, Susy, if you’d only follow my example!” + </p> + <p> + “Your example?” Susy paused, weighed the word, was struck by something + embarrassed, arch yet half-apologetic in her friend’s expression. “Your + example?” she repeated. “Why, Ellie, what on earth do you mean? Not that + you’re going to part from poor Nelson?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderlyn met her reproachful gaze with a crystalline glance. “I + don’t want to, heaven knows—poor dear Nelson! I assure you I simply + hate it. He’s always such an angel to Clarissa... and then we’re used to + each other. But what in the world am I to do? Algie’s so rich, so + appallingly rich, that I have to be perpetually on the watch to keep other + women away from him—and it’s too exhausting....” + </p> + <p> + “Algie?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Vanderlyn’s lovely eyebrows rose. “Algie: Algie Bockheimer. Didn’t + you know, I think he said you’ve dined with his parents. Nobody else in + the world is as rich as the Bockheimers; and Algie’s their only child. + Yes, it was with him... with him I was so dreadfully happy last spring... + and now I’m in mortal terror of losing him. And I do assure you there’s no + other way of keeping them, when they’re as hideously rich as that!” + </p> + <p> + Susy rose to her feet. A little shudder ran over her. She remembered, now, + having seen Algie Bockheimer at one of his parents’ first entertainments, + in their newly-inaugurated marble halls in Fifth Avenue. She recalled his + too faultless clothes and his small glossy furtive countenance. She looked + at Ellie Vanderlyn with sudden scorn. + </p> + <p> + “I think you’re abominable,” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The other’s perfect little face collapsed. “A-bo-minable? A-bo-mi-nable? + Susy!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes... with Nelson... and Clarissa... and your past together... and all + the money you can possibly want... and that man! Abominable.” + </p> + <p> + Ellie stood up trembling: she was not used to scenes, and they disarranged + her thoughts as much as her complexion. + </p> + <p> + “You’re very cruel, Susy—so cruel and dreadful that I hardly know + how to answer you,” she stammered. “But you simply don’t know what you’re + talking about. As if anybody ever had all the money they wanted!” She + wiped her dark-rimmed eyes with a cautious handkerchief, glanced at + herself in the mirror, and added magnanimously: “But I shall try to forget + what you’ve said.” + </p> + + +<h3>XIX.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Just</span> such a revolt as she had felt as a girl, such a disgusted recoil from + the standards and ideals of everybody about her as had flung her into her + mad marriage with Nick, now flamed in Susy Lansing’s bosom. + </p> + <p> + How could she ever go back into that world again? How echo its appraisals + of life and bow down to its judgments? Alas, it was only by marrying + according to its standards that she could escape such subjection. Perhaps + the same thought had actuated Nick: perhaps he had understood sooner than + she that to attain moral freedom they must both be above material cares. + Perhaps... + </p> + <p> + Her talk with Ellie Vanderlyn had left Susy so oppressed and humiliated + that she almost shrank from her meeting with Altringham the next day. She + knew that he was coming to Paris for his final answer; he would wait as + long as was necessary if only she would consent to take immediate steps + for a divorce. She was staying at a modest hotel in the Faubourg St. + Germain, and had once more refused his suggestion that they should lunch + at the Nouveau Luxe, or at some fashionable restaurant of the Boulevards. + As before, she insisted on going to an out-of-the-way place near the + Luxembourg, where the prices were moderate enough for her own purse. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand,” Strefford objected, as they turned from her hotel + door toward this obscure retreat, “why you insist on giving me bad food, + and depriving me of the satisfaction of being seen with you. Why must we + be so dreadfully clandestine? Don’t people know by this time that we’re to + be married?” + </p> + <p> + Susy winced a little: she wondered if the word would always sound so + unnatural on his lips. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, with a laugh, “they simply think, for the present, that + you’re giving me pearls and chinchilla cloaks.” + </p> + <p> + He wrinkled his brows good-humouredly. “Well, so I would, with joy—at + this particular minute. Don’t you think perhaps you’d better take + advantage of it? I don’t wish to insist—but I foresee that I’m much + too rich not to become stingy.” + </p> + <p> + She gave a slight shrug. “At present there’s nothing I loathe more than + pearls and chinchilla, or anything else in the world that’s expensive and + enviable....” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she broke off, colouring with the consciousness that she had said + exactly the kind of thing that all the women who were trying for him + (except the very cleverest) would be sure to say; and that he would + certainly suspect her of attempting the conventional comedy of + disinterestedness, than which nothing was less likely to deceive or to + flatter him. + </p> + <p> + His twinkling eyes played curiously over her face, and she went on, + meeting them with a smile: “But don’t imagine, all the same, that if I + should... decide... it would be altogether for your beaux yeux....” + </p> + <p> + He laughed, she thought, rather drily. “No,” he said, “I don’t suppose + that’s ever likely to happen to me again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff—” she faltered with compunction. It was odd—once upon a + time she had known exactly what to say to the man of the moment, whoever + he was, and whatever kind of talk he required; she had even, in the + difficult days before her marriage, reeled off glibly enough the sort of + lime-light sentimentality that plunged poor Fred Gillow into such + speechless beatitude. But since then she had spoken the language of real + love, looked with its eyes, embraced with its hands; and now the other + trumpery art had failed her, and she was conscious of bungling and groping + like a beginner under Strefford’s ironic scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + They had reached their obscure destination and he opened the door and + glanced in. + </p> + <p> + “It’s jammed—not a table. And stifling! Where shall we go? Perhaps + they could give us a room to ourselves—” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + She assented, and they were led up a cork-screw staircase to a + squat-ceilinged closet lit by the arched top of a high window, the lower + panes of which served for the floor below. Strefford opened the window, + and Susy, throwing her cloak on the divan, leaned on the balcony while he + ordered luncheon. + </p> + <p> + On the whole she was glad they were to be alone. Just because she felt so + sure of Strefford it seemed ungenerous to keep him longer in suspense. The + moment had come when they must have a decisive talk, and in the crowded + rooms below it would have been impossible. + </p> + <p> + Strefford, when the waiter had brought the first course and left them to + themselves, made no effort to revert to personal matters. He turned + instead to the topic always most congenial to him: the humours and ironies + of the human comedy, as presented by his own particular group. His + malicious commentary on life had always amused Susy because of the shrewd + flashes of philosophy he shed on the social antics they had so often + watched together. He was in fact the one person she knew (excepting Nick) + who was in the show and yet outside of it; and she was surprised, as the + talk proceeded, to find herself so little interested in his scraps of + gossip, and so little amused by his comments on them. + </p> + <p> + With an inward shrug of discouragement she said to herself that probably + nothing would ever really amuse her again; then, as she listened, she + began to understand that her disappointment arose from the fact that + Strefford, in reality, could not live without these people whom he saw + through and satirized, and that the rather commonplace scandals he + narrated interested him as much as his own racy considerations on them; + and she was filled with terror at the thought that the inmost core of the + richly-decorated life of the Countess of Altringham would be just as poor + and low-ceilinged a place as the little room in which he and she now sat, + elbow to elbow yet so unapproachably apart. + </p> + <p> + If Strefford could not live without these people, neither could she and + Nick; but for reasons how different! And if his opportunities had been + theirs, what a world they would have created for themselves! Such + imaginings were vain, and she shrank back from them into the present. + After all, as Lady Altringham she would have the power to create that + world which she and Nick had dreamed... only she must create it alone. + Well, that was probably the law of things. All human happiness was thus + conditioned and circumscribed, and hers, no doubt, must always be of the + lonely kind, since material things did not suffice for it, even though it + depended on them as Grace Fulmer’s, for instance, never had. Yet even + Grace Fulmer had succumbed to Ursula’s offer, and had arrived at Ruan the + day before Susy left, instead of going to Spain with her husband and + Violet Melrose. But then Grace was making the sacrifice for her children, + and somehow one had the feeling that in giving up her liberty she was not + surrendering a tittle of herself. All the difference was there.... + </p> + <p> + “How I do bore you!” Susy heard Strefford exclaim. She became aware that + she had not been listening: stray echoes of names of places and people—Violet + Melrose, Ursula, Prince Altineri, others of their group and persuasion—had + vainly knocked at her barricaded brain; what had he been telling her about + them? She turned to him and their eyes met; his were full of a melancholy + irony. + </p> + <p> + “Susy, old girl, what’s wrong?” + </p> + <p> + She pulled herself together. “I was thinking, Streff, just now—when + I said I hated the very sound of pearls and chinchilla—how + impossible it was that you should believe me; in fact, what a blunder I’d + made in saying it.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. “Because it was what so many other women might be likely to say + so awfully unoriginal, in fact?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed for sheer joy at his insight. “It’s going to be easier than I + imagined,” she thought. Aloud she rejoined: “Oh, Streff—how you’re + always going to find me out! Where on earth shall I ever hide from you?” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” He echoed her laugh, laying his hand lightly on hers. “In my + heart, I’m afraid.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of the laugh his accent shook her: something about it took all + the mockery from his retort, checked on her lips the: “What? A valentine!” + and made her suddenly feel that, if he were afraid, so was she. Yet she + was touched also, and wondered half exultingly if any other woman had ever + caught that particular deep inflexion of his shrill voice. She had never + liked him as much as at that moment; and she said to herself, with an odd + sense of detachment, as if she had been rather breathlessly observing the + vacillations of someone whom she longed to persuade but dared not: “Now—NOW, + if he speaks, I shall say yes!” + </p> + <p> + He did not speak; but abruptly, and as startlingly to her as if she had + just dropped from a sphere whose inhabitants had other methods of + expressing their sympathy, he slipped his arm around her and bent his keen + ugly melting face to hers.... + </p> + <p> + It was the lightest touch—in an instant she was free again. But + something within her gasped and resisted long after his arm and his lips + were gone, and he was proceeding, with a too-studied ease, to light a + cigarette and sweeten his coffee. + </p> + <p> + He had kissed her.... Well, naturally: why not? It was not the first time + she had been kissed. It was true that one didn’t habitually associate + Streff with such demonstrations; but she had not that excuse for surprise, + for even in Venice she had begun to notice that he looked at her + differently, and avoided her hand when he used to seek it. + </p> + <p> + No—she ought not to have been surprised; nor ought a kiss to have + been so disturbing. Such incidents had punctuated the career of Susy + Branch: there had been, in particular, in far-off discarded times, Fred + Gillow’s large but artless embraces. Well—nothing of that kind had + seemed of any more account than the click of a leaf in a woodland walk. It + had all been merely epidermal, ephemeral, part of the trivial accepted + “business” of the social comedy. But this kiss of Strefford’s was what + Nick’s had been, under the New Hampshire pines, on the day that had + decided their fate. It was a kiss with a future in it: like a ring slipped + upon her soul. And now, in the dreadful pause that followed—while + Strefford fidgeted with his cigarette-case and rattled the spoon in his + cup, Susy remembered what she had seen through the circle of Nick’s kiss: + that blue illimitable distance which was at once the landscape at their + feet and the future in their souls.... + </p> + <p> + Perhaps that was what Strefford’s sharply narrowed eyes were seeing now, + that same illimitable distance that she had lost forever—perhaps he + was saying to himself, as she had said to herself when her lips left + Nick’s: “Each time we kiss we shall see it all again....” Whereas all she + herself had felt was the gasping recoil from Strefford’s touch, and an + intenser vision of the sordid room in which he and she sat, and of their + two selves, more distant from each other than if their embrace had been a + sudden thrusting apart.... + </p> + <p> + The moment prolonged itself, and they sat numb. How long had it lasted? + How long ago was it that she had thought: “It’s going to be easier than I + imagined”? Suddenly she felt Strefford’s queer smile upon her, and saw in + his eyes a look, not of reproach or disappointment, but of deep and + anxious comprehension. Instead of being angry or hurt, he had seen, he had + understood, he was sorry for her! + </p> + <p> + Impulsively she slipped her hand into his, and they sat silent for another + moment. Then he stood up and took her cloak from the divan. “Shall we go + now! I’ve got cards for the private view of the Reynolds exhibition at the + Petit Palais. There are some portraits from Altringham. It might amuse + you.” + </p> + <p> + In the taxi she had time, through their light rattle of talk, to readjust + herself and drop back into her usual feeling of friendly ease with him. He + had been extraordinarily considerate, for anyone who always so + undisguisedly sought his own satisfaction above all things; and if his + considerateness were just an indirect way of seeking that satisfaction + now, well, that proved how much he cared for her, how necessary to his + happiness she had become. The sense of power was undeniably pleasant; + pleasanter still was the feeling that someone really needed her, that the + happiness of the man at her side depended on her yes or no. She abandoned + herself to the feeling, forgetting the abysmal interval of his caress, or + at least saying to herself that in time she would forget it, that really + there was nothing to make a fuss about in being kissed by anyone she liked + as much as Streff.... + </p> + <p> + She had guessed at once why he was taking her to see the Reynoldses. + Fashionable and artistic Paris had recently discovered English eighteenth + century art. The principal collections of England had yielded up their + best examples of the great portrait painter’s work, and the private view + at the Petit Palais was to be the social event of the afternoon. Everybody—Strefford’s + everybody and Susy’s—was sure to be there; and these, as she knew, + were the occasions that revived Strefford’s intermittent interest in art. + He really liked picture shows as much as the races, if one could be sure + of seeing as many people there. With Nick how different it would have + been! Nick hated openings and varnishing days, and worldly aesthetics in + general; he would have waited till the tide of fashion had ebbed, and + slipped off with Susy to see the pictures some morning when they were sure + to have the place to themselves. + </p> + <p> + But Susy divined that there was another reason for Strefford’s suggestion. + She had never yet shown herself with him publicly, among their own group + of people: now he had determined that she should do so, and she knew why. + She had humbled his pride; he had understood, and forgiven her. But she + still continued to treat him as she had always treated the Strefford of + old, Charlie Strefford, dear old negligible impecunious Streff; and he + wanted to show her, ever so casually and adroitly, that the man who had + asked her to marry him was no longer Strefford, but Lord Altringham. + </p> + <p> + At the very threshold, his Ambassador’s greeting marked the difference: it + was followed, wherever they turned, by ejaculations of welcome from the + rulers of the world they moved in. Everybody rich enough or titled enough, + or clever enough or stupid enough, to have forced a way into the social + citadel, was there, waving and flag-flying from the battlements; and to + all of them Lord Altringham had become a marked figure. During their slow + progress through the dense mass of important people who made the approach + to the pictures so well worth fighting for, he never left Susy’s side, or + failed to make her feel herself a part of his triumphal advance. She heard + her name mentioned: “Lansing—a Mrs. Lansing—an American... + Susy Lansing? Yes, of course.... You remember her? At Newport, At St. + Moritz? Exactly.... Divorced already? They say so... Susy darling! I’d no + idea you were here... and Lord Altringham! You’ve forgotten me, I know, + Lord Altringham.... Yes, last year, in Cairo... or at Newport... or in + Scotland ... Susy, dearest, when will you bring Lord Altringham to dine? + Any night that you and he are free I’ll arrange to be....” + </p> + <p> + “You and he”: they were “you and he” already! + </p> + <p> + “Ah, there’s one of them—of my great-grandmothers,” Strefford + explained, giving a last push that drew him and Susy to the front rank, + before a tall isolated portrait which, by sheer majesty of presentment, + sat in its great carved golden frame as on a throne above the other + pictures. + </p> + <p> + Susy read on the scroll beneath it: “The Hon’ble Diana Lefanu, fifteenth + Countess of Altringham”—and heard Strefford say: “Do you remember? + It hangs where you noticed the empty space above the mantel-piece, in the + Vandyke room. They say Reynolds stipulated that it should be put with the + Vandykes.” + </p> + <p> + She had never before heard him speak of his possessions, whether ancestral + or merely material, in just that full and satisfied tone of voice: the + rich man’s voice. She saw that he was already feeling the influence of his + surroundings, that he was glad the portrait of a Countess of Altringham + should occupy the central place in the principal room of the exhibition, + that the crowd about it should be denser there than before any of the + other pictures, and that he should be standing there with Susy, letting + her feel, and letting all the people about them guess, that the day she + chose she could wear the same name as his pictured ancestress. + </p> + <p> + On the way back to her hotel, Strefford made no farther allusion to their + future; they chatted like old comrades in their respective corners of the + taxi. But as the carriage stopped at her door he said: “I must go back to + England the day after to-morrow, worse luck! Why not dine with me to-night + at the Nouveau Luxe? I’ve got to have the Ambassador and Lady Ascot, with + their youngest girl and my old Dunes aunt, the Dowager Duchess, who’s over + here hiding from her creditors; but I’ll try to get two or three amusing + men to leaven the lump. We might go on to a boite afterward, if you’re + bored. Unless the dancing amuses you more....” + </p> + <p> + She understood that he had decided to hasten his departure rather than + linger on in uncertainty; she also remembered having heard the Ascots’ + youngest daughter, Lady Joan Senechal, spoken of as one of the prettiest + girls of the season; and she recalled the almost exaggerated warmth of the + Ambassador’s greeting at the private view. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I’ll come, Streff dear!” she cried, with an effort at gaiety + that sounded successful to her own strained ears, and reflected itself in + the sudden lighting up of his face. + </p> + <p> + She waved a good-bye from the step, saying to herself, as she looked after + him: “He’ll drive me home to-night, and I shall say ‘yes’; and then he’ll + kiss me again. But the next time it won’t be nearly as disagreeable.” + </p> + <p> + She turned into the hotel, glanced automatically at the empty pigeon-hole + for letters under her key-hook, and mounted the stairs following the same + train of images. “Yes, I shall say ‘yes’ to-night,” she repeated firmly, + her hand on the door of her room. “That is, unless, they’ve brought up a + letter....” She never re-entered the hotel without imagining that the + letter she had not found below had already been brought up. + </p> + <p> + Opening the door, she turned on the light and sprang to the table on which + her correspondence sometimes awaited her. + </p> + <p> + There was no letter; but the morning papers, still unread, lay at hand, + and glancing listlessly down the column which chronicles the doings of + society, she read: + </p> + <p> + “After an extended cruise in the AEgean and the Black Sea on their + steam-yacht Ibis, Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Hicks and their daughter are + established at the Nouveau Luxe in Rome. They have lately had the honour + of entertaining at dinner the Reigning Prince of Teutoburger-Waldhain and + his mother the Princess Dowager, with their suite. Among those invited to + meet their Serene Highnesses were the French and Spanish Ambassadors, the + Duchesse de Vichy, Prince and Princess Bagnidilucca, Lady Penelope + Pantiles—” Susy’s eye flew impatiently on over the long list of + titles—“and Mr. Nicholas Lansing of New York, who has been cruising + with Mr. and Mrs. Hicks on the Ibis for the last few months.” + </p> + + +<h3>XX.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">The</span> Mortimer Hickses were in Rome; not, as they would in former times have + been, in one of the antiquated hostelries of the Piazza di Spagna or the + Porta del Popolo, where of old they had so gaily defied fever and + nourished themselves on local colour; but spread out, with all the + ostentation of philistine millionaires, under the piano nobile ceilings of + one of the high-perched “Palaces,” where, as Mrs. Hicks shamelessly + declared, they could “rely on the plumbing,” and “have the privilege of + over-looking the Queen Mother’s Gardens.” + </p> + <p> + It was that speech, uttered with beaming aplomb at a dinner-table + surrounded by the cosmopolitan nobility of the Eternal City, that had + suddenly revealed to Lansing the profound change in the Hicks point of + view. + </p> + <p> + As he looked back over the four months since he had so unexpectedly joined + the Ibis at Genoa, he saw that the change, at first insidious and + unperceived, dated from the ill-fated day when the Hickses had run across + a Reigning Prince on his travels. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto they had been proof against such perils: both Mr. and Mrs. Hicks + had often declared that the aristocracy of the intellect was the only one + which attracted them. But in this case the Prince possessed an intellect, + in addition to his few square miles of territory, and to one of the most + beautiful Field Marshal’s uniforms that had ever encased a royal warrior. + The Prince was not a warrior, however; he was stooping, pacific and + spectacled, and his possession of the uniform had been revealed to Mrs. + Hicks only by the gift of a full-length photograph in a Bond Street frame, + with Anastasius written slantingly across its legs. The Prince—and + herein lay the Hickses’ undoing—the Prince was an archaeologist: an + earnest anxious enquiring and scrupulous archaeologist. Delicate health + (so his suite hinted) banished him for a part of each year from his cold + and foggy principality; and in the company of his mother, the active and + enthusiastic Dowager Princess, he wandered from one Mediterranean shore to + another, now assisting at the exhumation of Ptolemaic mummies, now at the + excavation of Delphic temples or of North African basilicas. The beginning + of winter usually brought the Prince and his mother to Rome or Nice, + unless indeed they were summoned by family duties to Berlin, Vienna or + Madrid; for an extended connection with the principal royal houses of + Europe compelled them, as the Princess Mother said, to be always burying + or marrying a cousin. At other moments they were seldom seen in the + glacial atmosphere of courts, preferring to royal palaces those of the + other, and more modern type, in one of which the Hickses were now lodged. + </p> + <p> + Yes: the Prince and his mother (they gaily avowed it) revelled in Palace + Hotels; and, being unable to afford the luxury of inhabiting them, they + liked, as often as possible, to be invited to dine there by their friends—“or + even to tea, my dear,” the Princess laughingly avowed, “for I’m so awfully + fond of buttered scones; and Anastasius gives me so little to eat in the + desert.” + </p> + <p> + The encounter with these ambulant Highnesses had been fatal—Lansing + now perceived it—to Mrs. Hicks’s principles. She had known a great + many archaeologists, but never one as agreeable as the Prince, and above + all never one who had left a throne to camp in the desert and delve in + Libyan tombs. And it seemed to her infinitely pathetic that these two + gifted beings, who grumbled when they had to go to “marry a cousin” at the + Palace of St. James or of Madrid, and hastened back breathlessly to the + far-off point where, metaphorically speaking, pick-axe and spade had + dropped from their royal hands—that these heirs of the ages should + be unable to offer themselves the comforts of up-to-date hotel life, and + should enjoy themselves “like babies” when they were invited to the other + kind of “Palace,” to feast on buttered scones and watch the tango. + </p> + <p> + She simply could not bear the thought of their privations; and neither, + after a time, could Mr. Hicks, who found the Prince more democratic than + anyone he had ever known at Apex City, and was immensely interested by the + fact that their spectacles came from the same optician. + </p> + <p> + But it was, above all, the artistic tendencies of the Prince and his + mother which had conquered the Hickses. There was fascination in the + thought that, among the rabble of vulgar uneducated royalties who overran + Europe from Biarritz to the Engadine, gambling, tangoing, and sponging on + no less vulgar plebeians, they, the unobtrusive and self-respecting + Hickses, should have had the luck to meet this cultivated pair, who joined + them in gentle ridicule of their own frivolous kinsfolk, and whose tastes + were exactly those of the eccentric, unreliable and sometimes + money-borrowing persons who had hitherto represented the higher life to + the Hickses. + </p> + <p> + Now at last Mrs. Hicks saw the possibility of being at once artistic and + luxurious, of surrendering herself to the joys of modern plumbing and yet + keeping the talk on the highest level. “If the poor dear Princess wants to + dine at the Nouveau Luxe why shouldn’t we give her that pleasure?” Mrs. + Hicks smilingly enquired; “and as for enjoying her buttered scones like a + baby, as she says, I think it’s the sweetest thing about her.” + </p> + <p> + Coral Hicks did not join in this chorus; but she accepted, with her + curious air of impartiality, the change in her parents’ manner of life, + and for the first time (as Nick observed) occupied herself with her + mother’s toilet, with the result that Mrs. Hicks’s outline became firmer, + her garments soberer in hue and finer in material; so that, should anyone + chance to detect the daughter’s likeness to her mother, the result was + less likely to be disturbing. + </p> + <p> + Such precautions were the more needful—Lansing could not but note + because of the different standards of the society in which the Hickses now + moved. For it was a curious fact that admission to the intimacy of the + Prince and his mother—who continually declared themselves to be the + pariahs, the outlaws, the Bohemians among crowned heads nevertheless + involved not only living in Palace Hotels but mixing with those who + frequented them. The Prince’s aide-de-camp—an agreeable young man of + easy manners—had smilingly hinted that their Serene Highnesses, + though so thoroughly democratic and unceremonious, were yet accustomed to + inspecting in advance the names of the persons whom their hosts wished to + invite with them; and Lansing noticed that Mrs. Hicks’s lists, having been + “submitted,” usually came back lengthened by the addition of numerous + wealthy and titled guests. Their Highnesses never struck out a name; they + welcomed with enthusiasm and curiosity the Hickses’ oddest and most + inexplicable friends, at most putting off some of them to a later day on + the plea that it would be “cosier” to meet them on a more private + occasion; but they invariably added to the list any friends of their own, + with the gracious hint that they wished these latter (though socially so + well-provided for) to have the “immense privilege” of knowing the Hickses. + And thus it happened that when October gales necessitated laying up the + Ibis, the Hickses, finding again in Rome the august travellers from whom + they had parted the previous month in Athens, also found their + visiting-list enlarged by all that the capital contained of fashion. + </p> + <p> + It was true enough, as Lansing had not failed to note, that the Princess + Mother adored prehistoric art, and Russian music, and the paintings of + Gauguin and Matisse; but she also, and with a beaming unconsciousness of + perspective, adored large pearls and powerful motors, caravan tea and + modern plumbing, perfumed cigarettes and society scandals; and her son, + while apparently less sensible to these forms of luxury, adored his + mother, and was charmed to gratify her inclinations without cost to + himself—“Since poor Mamma,” as he observed, “is so courageous when + we are roughing it in the desert.” + </p> + <p> + The smiling aide-de-camp, who explained these things to Lansing, added + with an intenser smile that the Prince and his mother were under + obligations, either social or cousinly, to most of the titled persons whom + they begged Mrs. Hicks to invite; “and it seems to their Serene + Highnesses,” he added, “the most flattering return they can make for the + hospitality of their friends to give them such an intellectual + opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + The dinner-table at which their Highnesses’ friends were seated on the + evening in question represented, numerically, one of the greatest + intellectual opportunities yet afforded them. Thirty guests were grouped + about the flower-wreathed board, from which Eldorada and Mr. Beck had been + excluded on the plea that the Princess Mother liked cosy parties and + begged her hosts that there should never be more than thirty at table. + Such, at least, was the reason given by Mrs. Hicks to her faithful + followers; but Lansing had observed that, of late, the same skilled hand + which had refashioned the Hickses’ social circle usually managed to + exclude from it the timid presences of the two secretaries. Their + banishment was the more displeasing to Lansing from the fact that, for the + last three months, he had filled Mr. Buttles’s place, and was himself + their salaried companion. But since he had accepted the post, his obvious + duty was to fill it in accordance with his employers’ requirements; and it + was clear even to Eldorada and Mr. Beck that he had, as Eldorada + ungrudgingly said, “Something of Mr. Buttles’s marvellous social gifts.” + </p> + <p> + During the cruise his task had not been distasteful to him. He was glad of + any definite duties, however trivial, he felt more independent as the + Hickses’ secretary than as their pampered guest, and the large cheque + which Mr. Hicks handed over to him on the first of each month refreshed + his languishing sense of self-respect. + </p> + <p> + He considered himself absurdly over-paid, but that was the Hickses’ + affair; and he saw nothing humiliating in being in the employ of people he + liked and respected. But from the moment of the ill-fated encounter with + the wandering Princes, his position had changed as much as that of his + employers. He was no longer, to Mr. and Mrs. Hicks, a useful and estimable + assistant, on the same level as Eldorada and Mr. Beck; he had become a + social asset of unsuspected value, equalling Mr. Buttles in his capacity + for dealing with the mysteries of foreign etiquette, and surpassing him in + the art of personal attraction. Nick Lansing, the Hickses found, already + knew most of the Princess Mother’s rich and aristocratic friends. Many of + them hailed him with enthusiastic “Old Nicks”, and he was almost as + familiar as His Highness’s own aide-de-camp with all those secret + ramifications of love and hate that made dinner-giving so much more of a + science in Rome than at Apex City. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hicks, at first, had hopelessly lost her way in this labyrinth of + subterranean scandals, rivalries and jealousies; and finding Lansing’s + hand within reach she clung to it with pathetic tenacity. But if the young + man’s value had risen in the eyes of his employers it had deteriorated in + his own. He was condemned to play a part he had not bargained for, and it + seemed to him more degrading when paid in bank-notes than if his + retribution had consisted merely in good dinners and luxurious lodgings. + The first time the smiling aide-de-camp had caught his eye over a verbal + slip of Mrs. Hicks’s, Nick had flushed to the forehead and gone to bed + swearing that he would chuck his job the next day. + </p> + <p> + Two months had passed since then, and he was still the paid secretary. He + had contrived to let the aide-de-camp feel that he was too deficient in + humour to be worth exchanging glances with; but even this had not restored + his self-respect, and on the evening in question, as he looked about the + long table, he said to himself for the hundredth time that he would give + up his position on the morrow. + </p> + <p> + Only—what was the alternative? The alternative, apparently, was + Coral Hicks. He glanced down the line of diners, beginning with the tall + lean countenance of the Princess Mother, with its small inquisitive eyes + perched as high as attic windows under a frizzled thatch of hair and a + pediment of uncleaned diamonds; passed on to the vacuous and overfed or + fashionably haggard masks of the ladies next in rank; and finally caught, + between branching orchids, a distant glimpse of Miss Hicks. + </p> + <p> + In contrast with the others, he thought, she looked surprisingly noble. + Her large grave features made her appear like an old monument in a street + of Palace Hotels; and he marvelled at the mysterious law which had brought + this archaic face out of Apex City, and given to the oldest society of + Europe a look of such mixed modernity. + </p> + <p> + Lansing perceived that the aide-de-camp, who was his neighbour, was also + looking at Miss Hicks. His expression was serious, and even thoughtful; + but as his eyes met Lansing’s he readjusted his official smile. + </p> + <p> + “I was admiring our hostess’s daughter. Her absence of jewels is—er—an + inspiration,” he remarked in the confidential tone which Lansing had come + to dread. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Hicks is full of inspirations,” he returned curtly, and the + aide-de-camp bowed with an admiring air, as if inspirations were rarer + than pearls, as in his milieu they undoubtedly were. “She is the equal of + any situation, I am sure,” he replied; and then abandoned the subject with + one of his automatic transitions. + </p> + <p> + After dinner, in the embrasure of a drawing-room window, he surprised Nick + by returning to the same topic, and this time without thinking it needful + to readjust his smile. His face remained serious, though his manner was + studiously informal. + </p> + <p> + “I was admiring, at dinner, Miss Hicks’s invariable sense of + appropriateness. It must permit her friends to foresee for her almost any + future, however exalted.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing hesitated, and controlled his annoyance. Decidedly he wanted to + know what was in his companion’s mind. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by exalted?” he asked, with a smile of faint amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Well—equal to her marvellous capacity for shining in the public + eye.” + </p> + <p> + Lansing still smiled. “The question is, I suppose, whether her desire to + shine equals her capacity.” + </p> + <p> + The aide-de-camp stared. “You mean, she’s not ambitious?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary; I believe her to be immeasurably ambitious.” + </p> + <p> + “Immeasurably?” The aide-de-camp seemed to try to measure it. “But not, + surely, beyond—beyond what we can offer,” his eyes completed the + sentence; and it was Lansing’s turn to stare. The aide-de-camp faced the + stare. “Yes,” his eyes concluded in a flash, while his lips let fall: “The + Princess Mother admires her immensely.” But at that moment a wave of Mrs. + Hicks’s fan drew them hurriedly from their embrasure. + </p> + <p> + “Professor Darchivio had promised to explain to us the difference between + the Sassanian and Byzantine motives in Carolingian art; but the Manager + has sent up word that the two new Creole dancers from Paris have arrived, + and her Serene Highness wants to pop down to the ball-room and take a peep + at them.... She’s sure the Professor will understand....” + </p> + <p> + “And accompany us, of course,” the Princess irresistibly added. + </p> + <p> + Lansing’s brief colloquy in the Nouveau Luxe window had lifted the scales + from his eyes. Innumerable dim corners of memory had been flooded with + light by that one quick glance of the aide-de-camp’s: things he had heard, + hints he had let pass, smiles, insinuations, cordialities, rumours of the + improbability of the Prince’s founding a family, suggestions as to the + urgent need of replenishing the Teutoburger treasury.... + </p> + <p> + Miss Hicks, perforce, had accompanied her parents and their princely + guests to the ballroom; but as she did not dance, and took little interest + in the sight of others so engaged, she remained aloof from the party, + absorbed in an archaeological discussion with the baffled but smiling + savant who was to have enlightened the party on the difference between + Sassanian and Byzantine ornament. + </p> + <p> + Lansing, also aloof, had picked out a post from which he could observe the + girl: she wore a new look to him since he had seen her as the centre of + all these scattered threads of intrigue. Yes; decidedly she was growing + handsomer; or else she had learned how to set off her massive lines + instead of trying to disguise them. As she held up her long eye-glass to + glance absently at the dancers he was struck by the large beauty of her + arm and the careless assurance of the gesture. There was nothing nervous + or fussy about Coral Hicks; and he was not surprised that, plastically at + least, the Princess Mother had discerned her possibilities. + </p> + <p> + Nick Lansing, all that night, sat up and stared at his future. He knew + enough of the society into which the Hickses had drifted to guess that, + within a very short time, the hint of the Prince’s aide-de-camp would + reappear in the form of a direct proposal. Lansing himself would probably—as + the one person in the Hicks entourage with whom one could intelligibly + commune—be entrusted with the next step in the negotiations: he would be + asked, as the aide-de-camp would have said, “to feel the ground.” It was + clearly part of the state policy of Teutoburg to offer Miss Hicks, with + the hand of its sovereign, an opportunity to replenish its treasury. + </p> + <p> + What would the girl do? Lansing could not guess; yet he dimly felt that + her attitude would depend in a great degree upon his own. And he knew no + more what his own was going to be than on the night, four months earlier, + when he had flung out of his wife’s room in Venice to take the midnight + express for Genoa. + </p> + <p> + The whole of his past, and above all the tendency, on which he had once + prided himself, to live in the present and take whatever chances it + offered, now made it harder for him to act. He began to see that he had + never, even in the closest relations of life, looked ahead of his + immediate satisfaction. He had thought it rather fine to be able to give + himself so intensely to the fullness of each moment instead of hurrying + past it in pursuit of something more, or something else, in the manner of + the over-scrupulous or the under-imaginative, whom he had always grouped + together and equally pitied. It was not till he had linked his life with + Susy’s that he had begun to feel it reaching forward into a future he + longed to make sure of, to fasten upon and shape to his own wants and + purposes, till, by an imperceptible substitution, that future had become + his real present, his all-absorbing moment of time. + </p> + <p> + Now the moment was shattered, and the power to rebuild it failed him. He + had never before thought about putting together broken bits: he felt like + a man whose house has been wrecked by an earthquake, and who, for lack of + skilled labour, is called upon for the first time to wield a trowel and + carry bricks. He simply did not know how. + </p> + <p> + Will-power, he saw, was not a thing one could suddenly decree oneself to + possess. It must be built up imperceptibly and laboriously out of a + succession of small efforts to meet definite objects, out of the facing of + daily difficulties instead of cleverly eluding them, or shifting their + burden on others. The making of the substance called character was a + process about as slow and arduous as the building of the Pyramids; and the + thing itself, like those awful edifices, was mainly useful to lodge one’s + descendants in, after they too were dust. Yet the Pyramid-instinct was the + one which had made the world, made man, and caused his fugitive joys to + linger like fading frescoes on imperishable walls.... + </p> + + +<h3>XXI.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">On</span> the drive back from her dinner at the Nouveau Luxe, events had followed + the course foreseen by Susy. + </p> + <p> + She had promised Strefford to seek legal advice about her divorce, and he + had kissed her; and the promise had been easier to make than she had + expected, the kiss less difficult to receive. + </p> + <p> + She had gone to the dinner a-quiver with the mortification of learning + that her husband was still with the Hickses. Morally sure of it though she + had been, the discovery was a shock, and she measured for the first time + the abyss between fearing and knowing. No wonder he had not written—the + modern husband did not have to: he had only to leave it to time and the + newspapers to make known his intentions. Susy could imagine Nick’s saying + to himself, as he sometimes used to say when she reminded him of an + unanswered letter: “But there are lots of ways of answering a letter—and + writing doesn’t happen to be mine.” + </p> + <p> + Well—he had done it in his way, and she was answered. For a minute, + as she laid aside the paper, darkness submerged her, and she felt herself + dropping down into the bottomless anguish of her dreadful vigil in the + Palazzo Vanderlyn. But she was weary of anguish: her healthy body and + nerves instinctively rejected it. The wave was spent, and she felt herself + irresistibly struggling back to light and life and youth. He didn’t want + her! Well, she would try not to want him! There lay all the old expedients + at her hand—the rouge for her white lips, the atropine for her + blurred eyes, the new dress on her bed, the thought of Strefford and his + guests awaiting her, and of the conclusions that the diners of the Nouveau + Luxe would draw from seeing them together. Thank heaven no one would say: + “Poor old Susy—did you know Nick had chucked her?” They would all + say: “Poor old Nick! Yes, I daresay she was sorry to chuck him; but + Altringham’s mad to marry her, and what could she do?” + </p> + <p> + And once again events had followed the course she had foreseen. Seeing her + at Lord Altringham’s table, with the Ascots and the old Duchess of Dunes, + the interested spectators could not but regard the dinner as confirming + the rumour of her marriage. As Ellie said, people didn’t wait nowadays to + announce their “engagements” till the tiresome divorce proceedings were + over. Ellie herself, prodigally pearled and ermined, had floated in late + with Algie Bockheimer in her wake, and sat, in conspicuous tête-à -tête, + nodding and signalling her sympathy to Susy. Approval beamed from every + eye: it was awfully exciting, they all seemed to say, seeing Susy Lansing + pull it off! As the party, after dinner, drifted from the restaurant back + into the hall, she caught, in the smiles and hand-pressures crowding about + her, the scarcely-repressed hint of official congratulations; and Violet + Melrose, seated in a corner with Fulmer, drew her down with a wan + jade-circled arm, to whisper tenderly: “It’s most awfully clever of you, + darling, not to be wearing any jewels.” + </p> + <p> + In all the women’s eyes she read the reflected lustre of the jewels she + could wear when she chose: it was as though their glitter reached her from + the far-off bank where they lay sealed up in the Altringham strong-box. + What a fool she had been to think that Strefford would ever believe she + didn’t care for them! + </p> + <p> + The Ambassadress, a blank perpendicular person, had been a shade less + affable than Susy could have wished; but then there was Lady Joan—and + the girl was handsome, alarmingly handsome to account for that: probably + every one in the room had guessed it. And the old Duchess of Dunes was + delightful. She looked rather like Strefford in a wig and false pearls + (Susy was sure they were as false as her teeth); and her cordiality was so + demonstrative that the future bride found it more difficult to account for + than Lady Ascot’s coldness, till she heard the old lady, as they passed + into the hall, breathe in a hissing whisper to her nephew: “Streff, + dearest, when you have a minute’s time, and can drop in at my wretched + little pension, I know you can explain in two words what I ought to do to + pacify those awful money-lenders.... And you’ll bring your exquisite + American to see me, won’t you!... No, Joan Senechal’s too fair for my + taste.... Insipid....” + </p> + <p> + Yes: the taste of it all was again sweet on her lips. A few days later she + began to wonder how the thought of Strefford’s endearments could have been + so alarming. To be sure he was not lavish of them; but when he did touch + her, even when he kissed her, it no longer seemed to matter. An almost + complete absence of sensation had mercifully succeeded to the first wild + flurry of her nerves. + </p> + <p> + And so it would be, no doubt, with everything else in her new life. If it + failed to provoke any acute reactions, whether of pain or pleasure, the + very absence of sensation would make for peace. And in the meanwhile she + was tasting what, she had begun to suspect, was the maximum of bliss to + most of the women she knew: days packed with engagements, the exhilaration + of fashionable crowds, the thrill of snapping up a jewel or a bibelot or a + new “model” that one’s best friend wanted, or of being invited to some + private show, or some exclusive entertainment, that one’s best friend + couldn’t get to. There was nothing, now, that she couldn’t buy, nowhere + that she couldn’t go: she had only to choose and to triumph. And for a + while the surface-excitement of her life gave her the illusion of + enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + Strefford, as she had expected, had postponed his return to England, and + they had now been for nearly three weeks together in their new, and + virtually avowed, relation. She had fancied that, after all, the easiest + part of it would be just the being with Strefford—the falling back + on their old tried friendship to efface the sense of strangeness. But, + though she had so soon grown used to his caresses, he himself remained + curiously unfamiliar: she was hardly sure, at times, that it was the old + Strefford she was talking to. It was not that his point of view had + changed, but that new things occupied and absorbed him. In all the small + sides of his great situation he took an almost childish satisfaction; and + though he still laughed at both its privileges and its obligations, it was + now with a jealous laughter. + </p> + <p> + It amused him inexhaustibly, for instance, to be made up to by all the + people who had always disapproved of him, and to unite at the same table + persons who had to dissemble their annoyance at being invited together + lest they should not be invited at all. Equally exhilarating was the + capricious favouring of the dull and dowdy on occasions when the brilliant + and disreputable expected his notice. It enchanted him, for example, to + ask the old Duchess of Dunes and Violet Melrose to dine with the Vicar of + Altringham, on his way to Switzerland for a month’s holiday, and to watch + the face of the Vicar’s wife while the Duchess narrated her last + difficulties with book-makers and money-lenders, and Violet proclaimed the + rights of Love and Genius to all that had once been supposed to belong + exclusively to Respectability and Dulness. + </p> + <p> + Susy had to confess that her own amusements were hardly of a higher order; + but then she put up with them for lack of better, whereas Strefford, who + might have had what he pleased, was completely satisfied with such + triumphs. + </p> + <p> + Somehow, in spite of his honours and his opportunities, he seemed to have + shrunk. The old Strefford had certainly been a larger person, and she + wondered if material prosperity were always a beginning of ossification. + Strefford had been much more fun when he lived by his wits. Sometimes, + now, when he tried to talk of politics, or assert himself on some question + of public interest, she was startled by his limitations. Formerly, when he + was not sure of his ground, it had been his way to turn the difficulty by + glib nonsense or easy irony; now he was actually dull, at times almost + pompous. She noticed too, for the first time, that he did not always hear + clearly when several people were talking at once, or when he was at the + theatre; and he developed a habit of saying over and over again: “Does + so-and-so speak indistinctly? Or am I getting deaf, I wonder?” which wore + on her nerves by its suggestion of a corresponding mental infirmity. + </p> + <p> + These thoughts did not always trouble her. The current of idle activity on + which they were both gliding was her native element as well as his; and + never had its tide been as swift, its waves as buoyant. In his relation to + her, too, he was full of tact and consideration. She saw that he still + remembered their frightened exchange of glances after their first kiss; + and the sense of this little hidden spring of imagination in him was + sometimes enough for her thirst. + </p> + <p> + She had always had a rather masculine punctuality in keeping her word, and + after she had promised Strefford to take steps toward a divorce she had + promptly set about doing it. A sudden reluctance prevented her asking the + advice of friends like Ellie Vanderlyn, whom she knew to be in the thick + of the same negotiations, and all she could think of was to consult a + young American lawyer practicing in Paris, with whom she felt she could + talk the more easily because he was not from New York, and probably + unacquainted with her history. + </p> + <p> + She was so ignorant of the procedure in such matters that she was + surprised and relieved at his asking few personal questions; but it was a + shock to learn that a divorce could not be obtained, either in New York or + Paris, merely on the ground of desertion or incompatibility. + </p> + <p> + “I thought nowadays... if people preferred to live apart... it could + always be managed,” she stammered, wondering at her own ignorance, after + the many conjugal ruptures she had assisted at. + </p> + <p> + The young lawyer smiled, and coloured slightly. His lovely client + evidently intimidated him by her grace, and still more by her + inexperience. + </p> + <p> + “It can be—generally,” he admitted; “and especially so if... as I + gather is the case... your husband is equally anxious....” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, quite!” she exclaimed, suddenly humiliated by having to admit it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—may I suggest that, to bring matters to a point, the + best way would be for you to write to him?” + </p> + <p> + She recoiled slightly. It had never occurred to her that the lawyers would + not “manage it” without her intervention. + </p> + <p> + “Write to him... but what about?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, expressing your wish... to recover your freedom.... The rest, I + assume,” said the young lawyer, “may be left to Mr. Lansing.” + </p> + <p> + She did not know exactly what he meant, and was too much perturbed by the + idea of having to communicate with Nick to follow any other train of + thought. How could she write such a letter? And yet how could she confess + to the lawyer that she had not the courage to do so? He would, of course, + tell her to go home and be reconciled. She hesitated perplexedly. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t it be better,” she suggested, “if the letter were to come from—from + your office?” + </p> + <p> + He considered this politely. “On the whole: no. If, as I take it, an + amicable arrangement is necessary—to secure the requisite evidence + then a line from you, suggesting an interview, seems to me more + advisable.” + </p> + <p> + “An interview? Is an interview necessary?” She was ashamed to show her + agitation to this cautiously smiling young man, who must wonder at her + childish lack of understanding; but the break in her voice was + uncontrollable. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please write to him—I can’t! And I can’t see him! Oh, can’t you + arrange it for me?” she pleaded. + </p> + <p> + She saw now that her idea of a divorce had been that it was something one + went out—or sent out—to buy in a shop: something concrete and + portable, that Strefford’s money could pay for, and that it required no + personal participation to obtain. What a fool the lawyer must think her! + Stiffening herself, she rose from her seat. + </p> + <p> + “My husband and I don’t wish to see each other again.... I’m sure it would + be useless... and very painful.” + </p> + <p> + “You are the best judge, of course. But in any case, a letter from you, a + friendly letter, seems wiser... considering the apparent lack of + evidence....” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then; I’ll write,” she agreed, and hurried away, scarcely + hearing his parting injunction that she should take a copy of her letter. + </p> + <p> + That night she wrote. At the last moment it might have been impossible, if + at the theatre little Breckenridge had not bobbed into her box. He was + just back from Rome, where he had dined with the Hickses (“a bang-up show—they’re + really lances—you wouldn’t know them!”), and had met there Lansing, whom + he reported as intending to marry Coral “as soon as things were settled”. + “You were dead right, weren’t you, Susy,” he snickered, “that night in + Venice last summer, when we all thought you were joking about their + engagement? Pity now you chucked our surprise visit to the Hickses, and + sent Streff up to drag us back just as we were breaking in! You remember?” + </p> + <p> + He flung off the “Streff” airily, in the old way, but with a tentative + side-glance at his host; and Lord Altringham, leaning toward Susy, said + coldly: “Was Breckenridge speaking about me? I didn’t catch what he said. + Does he speak indistinctly—or am I getting deaf, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + After that it seemed comparatively easy, when Strefford had dropped her at + her hotel, to go upstairs and write. She dashed off the date and her + address, and then stopped; but suddenly she remembered Breckenridge’s + snicker, and the words rushed from her. “Nick dear, it was July when you + left Venice, and I have had no word from you since the note in which you + said you had gone for a few days, and that I should hear soon again. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t written yet, and it is five months since you left me. That + means, I suppose, that you want to take back your freedom and give me + mine. Wouldn’t it be kinder, in that case, to tell me so? It is worse than + anything to go on as we are now. I don’t know how to put these things but + since you seem unwilling to write to me perhaps you would prefer to send + your answer to Mr. Frederic Spearman, the American lawyer here. His + address is 100, Boulevard Haussmann. I hope—” + </p> + <p> + She broke off on the last word. Hope? What did she hope, either for him or + for herself? Wishes for his welfare would sound like a mockery—and + she would rather her letter should seem bitter than unfeeling. Above all, + she wanted to get it done. To have to re-write even those few lines would + be torture. So she left “I hope,” and simply added: “to hear before long + what you have decided.” + </p> + <p> + She read it over, and shivered. Not one word of the past—not one allusion + to that mysterious interweaving of their lives which had enclosed them one + in the other like the flower in its sheath! What place had such memories + in such a letter? She had the feeling that she wanted to hide that other + Nick away in her own bosom, and with him the other Susy, the Susy he had + once imagined her to be.... Neither of them seemed concerned with the + present business. + </p> + <p> + The letter done, she stared at the sealed envelope till its presence in + the room became intolerable, and she understood that she must either tear + it up or post it immediately. She went down to the hall of the sleeping + hotel, and bribed the night-porter to carry the letter to the nearest post + office, though he objected that, at that hour, no time would be gained. “I + want it out of the house,” she insisted: and waited sternly by the desk, + in her dressing-gown, till he had performed the errand. + </p> + <p> + As she re-entered her room, the disordered writing-table struck her; and + she remembered the lawyer’s injunction to take a copy of her letter. A + copy to be filed away with the documents in “Lansing versus Lansing!” She + burst out laughing at the idea. What were lawyers made of, she wondered? + Didn’t the man guess, by the mere look in her eyes and the sound of her + voice, that she would never, as long as she lived, forget a word of that + letter—that night after night she would lie down, as she was lying + down to-night, to stare wide-eyed for hours into the darkness, while a + voice in her brain monotonously hammered out: “Nick dear, it was July when + you left me...” and so on, word after word, down to the last fatal + syllable? + </p> + + +<h3>XXII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Strefford</span> was leaving for England. + </p> + <p> + Once assured that Susy had taken the first step toward freeing herself, he + frankly regarded her as his affianced wife, and could see no reason for + further mystery. She understood his impatience to have their plans + settled; it would protect him from the formidable menace of the + marriageable, and cause people, as he said, to stop meddling. Now that the + novelty of his situation was wearing off, his natural indolence reasserted + itself, and there was nothing he dreaded more than having to be on his + guard against the innumerable plans that his well-wishers were perpetually + making for him. Sometimes Susy fancied he was marrying her because to do + so was to follow the line of least resistance. + </p> + <p> + “To marry me is the easiest way of not marrying all the others,” she + laughed, as he stood before her one day in a quiet alley of the Bois de + Boulogne, insisting on the settlement of various preliminaries. “I believe + I’m only a protection to you.” + </p> + <p> + An odd gleam passed behind his eyes, and she instantly guessed that he was + thinking: “And what else am I to you?” + </p> + <p> + She changed colour, and he rejoined, laughing also: “Well, you’re that at + any rate, thank the Lord!” + </p> + <p> + She pondered, and then questioned: “But in the interval—how are you going + to defend yourself for another year?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you’ve got to see to that; you’ve got to take a little house in + London. You’ve got to look after me, you know.” + </p> + <p> + It was on the tip of her tongue to flash back: “Oh, if that’s all you care—!” + But caring was exactly the factor she wanted, as much as possible, to keep + out of their talk and their thoughts. She could not ask him how much he + cared without laying herself open to the same question; and that way + terror lay. As a matter of fact, though Strefford was not an ardent wooer—perhaps + from tact, perhaps from temperament, perhaps merely from the long habit of + belittling and disintegrating every sentiment and every conviction—yet + she knew he did care for her as much as he was capable of caring for + anyone. If the element of habit entered largely into the feeling—if + he liked her, above all, because he was used to her, knew her views, her + indulgences, her allowances, knew he was never likely to be bored, and + almost certain to be amused, by her; why, such ingredients though not of + the fieriest, were perhaps those most likely to keep his feeling for her + at a pleasant temperature. She had had a taste of the tropics, and wanted + more equable weather; but the idea of having to fan his flame gently for a + year was unspeakably depressing to her. Yet all this was precisely what + she could not say. The long period of probation, during which, as she + knew, she would have to amuse him, to guard him, to hold him, and to keep + off the other women, was a necessary part of their situation. She was sure + that, as little Breckenridge would have said, she could “pull it off”; but + she did not want to think about it. What she would have preferred would + have been to go away—no matter where and not see Strefford again + till they were married. But she dared not tell him that either. + </p> + <p> + “A little house in London—?” She wondered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose you’ve got to have some sort of a roof over your head.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down beside her. “If you like me well enough to live at Altringham + some day, won’t you, in the meantime, let me provide you with a smaller + and more convenient establishment?” + </p> + <p> + Still she hesitated. The alternative, she knew, would be to live on Ursula + Gillow, Violet Melrose, or some other of her rich friends, any one of whom + would be ready to lavish the largest hospitality on the prospective Lady + Altringham. Such an arrangement, in the long run, would be no less + humiliating to her pride, no less destructive to her independence, than + Altringham’s little establishment. But she temporized. “I shall go over to + London in December, and stay for a while with various people—then we + can look about.” + </p> + <p> + “All right; as you like.” He obviously considered her hesitation + ridiculous, but was too full of satisfaction at her having started divorce + proceedings to be chilled by her reply. + </p> + <p> + “And now, look here, my dear; couldn’t I give you some sort of a ring?” + </p> + <p> + “A ring?” She flushed at the suggestion. “What’s the use, Streff, dear? + With all those jewels locked away in London—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I daresay you’ll think them old-fashioned. And, hang it, why + shouldn’t I give you something new, I ran across Ellie and Bockheimer + yesterday, in the rue de la Paix, picking out sapphires. Do you like + sapphires, or emeralds? Or just a diamond? I’ve seen a thumping one.... + I’d like you to have it.” + </p> + <p> + Ellie and Bockheimer! How she hated the conjunction of the names! Their + case always seemed to her like a caricature of her own, and she felt an + unreasoning resentment against Ellie for having selected the same season + for her unmating and re-mating. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you wouldn’t speak of them, Streff... as if they were like us! I + can hardly bear to sit in the same room with Ellie Vanderlyn.” + </p> + <p> + “Hullo? What’s wrong? You mean because of her giving up Clarissa?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that only.... You don’t know.... I can’t tell you....” She shivered + at the memory, and rose restlessly from the bench where they had been + sitting. + </p> + <p> + Strefford gave his careless shrug. “Well, my dear, you can hardly expect + me to agree, for after all it was to Ellie I owed the luck of being so + long alone with you in Venice. If she and Algie hadn’t prolonged their + honeymoon at the villa—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped abruptly, and looked at Susy. She was conscious that every drop + of blood had left her face. She felt it ebbing away from her heart, + flowing out of her as if from all her severed arteries, till it seemed as + though nothing were left of life in her but one point of irreducible pain. + </p> + <p> + “Ellie—at your villa? What do you mean? Was it Ellie and Bockheimer + who—?” + </p> + <p> + Strefford still stared. “You mean to say you didn’t know?” + </p> + <p> + “Who came after Nick and me...?” she insisted. + </p> + <p> + “Why, do you suppose I’d have turned you out otherwise? That beastly + Bockheimer simply smothered me with gold. Ah, well, there’s one good + thing: I shall never have to let the villa again! I rather like the little + place myself, and I daresay once in a while we might go there for a day or + two.... Susy, what’s the matter?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She returned his stare, but without seeing him. Everything swam and danced + before her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then she was there while I was posting all those letters for her—?” + </p> + <p> + “Letters—what letters? What makes you look so frightfully upset?” + </p> + <p> + She pursued her thought as if he had not spoken. “She and Algie Bockheimer + arrived there the very day that Nick and I left?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. I thought she’d told you. Ellie always tells everybody + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “She would have told me, I daresay—but I wouldn’t let her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear, that was hardly my fault, was it? Though I really don’t + see—” + </p> + <p> + But Susy, still blind to everything but the dance of dizzy sparks before + her eyes, pressed on as if she had not heard him. “It was their motor, + then, that took us to Milan! It was Algie Bockheimer’s motor!” She did not + know why, but this seemed to her the most humiliating incident in the + whole hateful business. She remembered Nick’s reluctance to use the + motor—she remembered his look when she had boasted of her “managing.” The + nausea mounted to her throat. + </p> + <p> + Strefford burst out laughing. “I say—you borrowed their motor? And + you didn’t know whose it was?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I know? I persuaded the chauffeur... for a little tip.... It + was to save our railway fares to Milan... extra luggage costs so + frightfully in Italy....” + </p> + <p> + “Good old Susy! Well done! I can see you doing it—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how horrible—how horrible!” she groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Horrible? What’s horrible?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, your not seeing... not feeling...” she began impetuously; and then + stopped. How could she explain to him that what revolted her was not so + much the fact of his having given the little house, as soon as she and + Nick had left it, to those two people of all others—though the + vision of them in the sweet secret house, and under the plane-trees of the + terrace, drew such a trail of slime across her golden hours? No, it was + not that from which she most recoiled, but from the fact that Strefford, + living in luxury in Nelson Vanderlyn’s house, should at the same time have + secretly abetted Ellie Vanderlyn’s love-affairs, and allowed her—for + a handsome price—to shelter them under his own roof. The reproach + trembled on her lip—but she remembered her own part in the wretched + business, and the impossibility of avowing it to Strefford, and of + revealing to him that Nick had left her for that very reason. She was not + afraid that the discovery would diminish her in Strefford’s eyes: he was + untroubled by moral problems, and would laugh away her avowal, with a + sneer at Nick in his new part of moralist. But that was just what she + could not bear: that anyone should cast a doubt on the genuineness of + Nick’s standards, or should know how far below them she had fallen. + </p> + <p> + She remained silent, and Strefford, after a moment, drew her gently down + to the seat beside him. “Susy, upon my soul I don’t know what you’re + driving at. Is it me you’re angry with—or yourself? And what’s it all + about! Are you disgusted because I let the villa to a couple who weren’t + married! But, hang it, they’re the kind that pay the highest price and I + had to earn my living somehow! One doesn’t run across a bridal pair every + day....” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyes to his puzzled incredulous face. Poor Streff! No, it + was not with him that she was angry. Why should she be? Even that + ill-advised disclosure had told her nothing she had not already known + about him. It had simply revealed to her once more the real point of view + of the people he and she lived among had shown her that, in spite of the + superficial difference, he felt as they felt, judged as they judged, was + blind as they were—and as she would be expected to be, should she once + again become one of them. What was the use of being placed by fortune + above such shifts and compromises, if in one’s heart one still condoned + them? And she would have to—she would catch the general note, grow + blunted as those other people were blunted, and gradually come to wonder + at her own revolt, as Strefford now honestly wondered at it. She felt as + though she were on the point of losing some new-found treasure, a treasure + precious only to herself, but beside which all he offered her was nothing, + the triumph of her wounded pride nothing, the security of her future + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Susy?” he asked, with the same puzzled gentleness. + </p> + <p> + Ah, the loneliness of never being able to make him understand! She had + felt lonely enough when the flaming sword of Nick’s indignation had shut + her out from their Paradise; but there had been a cruel bliss in the pain. + Nick had not opened her eyes to new truths, but had waked in her again + something which had lain unconscious under years of accumulated + indifference. And that re-awakened sense had never left her since, and had + somehow kept her from utter loneliness because it was a secret shared with + Nick, a gift she owed to Nick, and which, in leaving her, he could not + take from her. It was almost, she suddenly felt, as if he had left her + with a child. + </p> + <p> + “My dear girl,” Strefford said, with a resigned glance at his watch, “you + know we’re dining at the Embassy....” + </p> + <p> + At the Embassy? She looked at him vaguely: then she remembered. Yes, they + were dining that night at the Ascots’, with Strefford’s cousin, the Duke + of Dunes, and his wife, the handsome irreproachable young Duchess; with + the old gambling Dowager Duchess, whom her son and daughter-in-law had + come over from England to see; and with other English and French guests of + a rank and standing worthy of the Duneses. Susy knew that her inclusion in + such a dinner could mean but one thing: it was her definite recognition as + Altringham’s future wife. She was “the little American” whom one had to + ask when one invited him, even on ceremonial occasions. The family had + accepted her; the Embassy could but follow suit. + </p> + <p> + “It’s late, dear; and I’ve got to see someone on business first,” + Strefford reminded her patiently. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff—I can’t, I can’t!” The words broke from her without her + knowing what she was saying. “I can’t go with you—I can’t go to the + Embassy. I can’t go on any longer like this....” She lifted her eyes to + his in desperate appeal. “Oh, understand—do please understand!” she + wailed, knowing, while she spoke, the utter impossibility of what she + asked. + </p> + <p> + Strefford’s face had gradually paled and hardened. From sallow it turned + to a dusky white, and lines of obstinacy deepened between the ironic + eyebrows and about the weak amused mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Understand? What do you want me to understand,” He laughed. “That you’re + trying to chuck me already?” + </p> + <p> + She shrank at the sneer of the “already,” but instantly remembered that it + was the only thing he could be expected to say, since it was just because + he couldn’t understand that she was flying from him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff—if I knew how to tell you!” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t so much matter about the how. Is that what you’re trying to + say?” + </p> + <p> + Her head drooped, and she saw the dead leaves whirling across the path at + her feet, lifted on a sudden wintry gust. + </p> + <p> + “The reason,” he continued, clearing his throat with a stiff smile, “is + not quite as important to me as the fact.” + </p> + <p> + She stood speechless, agonized by his pain. But still, she thought, he had + remembered the dinner at the Embassy. The thought gave her courage to go + on. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t do, Streff. I’m not a bit the kind of person to make you + happy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, leave that to me, please, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can’t. Because I should be unhappy too.” + </p> + <p> + He clicked at the leaves as they whirled past. “You’ve taken a rather long + time to find it out.” She saw that his new-born sense of his own + consequence was making him suffer even more than his wounded affection; + and that again gave her courage. + </p> + <p> + “If I’ve taken long it’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t take longer. + If I’ve made a mistake it’s you who would have suffered from it....” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” he said, “for your extreme solicitude.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him helplessly, penetrated by the despairing sense of their + inaccessibility to each other. Then she remembered that Nick, during their + last talk together, had seemed as inaccessible, and wondered if, when + human souls try to get too near each other, they do not inevitably become + mere blurs to each other’s vision. She would have liked to say this to + Streff—but he would not have understood it either. The sense of loneliness + once more enveloped her, and she groped in vain for a word that should + reach him. + </p> + <p> + “Let me go home alone, won’t you?” she appealed to him. + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “To-morrow—to-morrow....” + </p> + <p> + He tried, rather valiantly, to smile. “Hang to-morrow! Whatever is wrong, + it needn’t prevent my seeing you home.” He glanced toward the taxi that + awaited them at the end of the deserted drive. + </p> + <p> + “No, please. You’re in a hurry; take the taxi. I want immensely a long + long walk by myself... through the streets, with the lights coming + out....” + </p> + <p> + He laid his hand on her arm. “I say, my dear, you’re not ill?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I’m not ill. But you may say I am, to-night at the Embassy.” + </p> + <p> + He released her and drew back. “Oh, very well,” he answered coldly; and + she understood by his tone that the knot was cut, and that at that moment + he almost hated her. She turned away, hastening down the deserted alley, + flying from him, and knowing, as she fled, that he was still standing + there motionless, staring after her, wounded, humiliated, uncomprehending. + It was neither her fault nor his.... + </p> + + +<h3>XXIII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">As</span> she fled on toward the lights of the streets a breath of freedom seemed + to blow into her face. + </p> + <p> + Like a weary load the accumulated hypocrisies of the last months had + dropped from her: she was herself again, Nick’s Susy, and no one else’s. + She sped on, staring with bright bewildered eyes at the stately facades of + the La Muette quarter, the perspectives of bare trees, the awakening + glitter of shop-windows holding out to her all the things she would never + again be able to buy.... + </p> + <p> + In an avenue of shops she paused before a milliner’s window, and said to + herself: “Why shouldn’t I earn my living by trimming hats?” She met + work-girls streaming out under a doorway, and scattering to catch trams + and omnibuses; and she looked with newly-wakened interest at their tired + independent faces. “Why shouldn’t I earn my living as well as they do?” + she thought. A little farther on she passed a Sister of Charity with + softly trotting feet, a calm anonymous glance, and hands hidden in her + capacious sleeves. Susy looked at her and thought: “Why shouldn’t I be a + Sister, and have no money to worry about, and trot about under a white + coif helping poor people?” + </p> + <p> + All these strangers on whom she smiled in passing, and glanced back at + enviously, were free from the necessities that enslaved her, and would not + have known what she meant if she had told them that she must have so much + money for her dresses, so much for her cigarettes, so much for bridge and + cabs and tips, and all kinds of extras, and that at that moment she ought + to be hurrying back to a dinner at the British Embassy, where her + permanent right to such luxuries was to be solemnly recognized and + ratified. + </p> + <p> + The artificiality and unreality of her life overcame her as with stifling + fumes. She stopped at a street-corner, drawing long panting breaths as if + she had been running a race. Then, slowly and aimlessly, she began to + saunter along a street of small private houses in damp gardens that led to + the Avenue du Bois. She sat down on a bench. Not far off, the Arc de + Triomphe raised its august bulk, and beyond it a river of lights streamed + down toward Paris, and the stir of the city’s heart-beats troubled the + quiet in her bosom. But not for long. She seemed to be looking at it all + from the other side of the grave; and as she got up and wandered down the + Champs Elysees, half empty in the evening lull between dusk and dinner, + she felt as if the glittering avenue were really changed into the Field of + Shadows from which it takes its name, and as if she were a ghost among + ghosts. + </p> + <p> + Halfway home, a weakness of loneliness overcame her, and she seated + herself under the trees near the Rond Point. Lines of motors and carriages + were beginning to animate the converging thoroughfares, streaming abreast, + crossing, winding in and out of each other in a tangle of hurried + pleasure-seeking. She caught the light on jewels and shirt-fronts and hard + bored eyes emerging from dim billows of fur and velvet. She seemed to hear + what the couples were saying to each other, she pictured the + drawing-rooms, restaurants, dance-halls they were hastening to, the + breathless routine that was hurrying them along, as Time, the old + vacuum-cleaner, swept them away with the dust of their carriage-wheels. + And again the loneliness vanished in a sense of release.... + </p> + <p> + At the corner of the Place de la Concorde she stopped, recognizing a man + in evening dress who was hailing a taxi. Their eyes met, and Nelson + Vanderlyn came forward. He was the last person she cared to run across, + and she shrank back involuntarily. What did he know, what had he guessed, + of her complicity in his wife’s affairs? No doubt Ellie had blabbed it all + out by this time; she was just as likely to confide her love-affairs to + Nelson as to anyone else, now that the Bockheimer prize was landed. + </p> + <p> + “Well—well—well—so I’ve caught you at it! Glad to see + you, Susy, my dear.” She found her hand cordially clasped in Vanderlyn’s, + and his round pink face bent on her with all its old urbanity. Did nothing + matter, then, in this world she was fleeing from, did no one love or hate + or remember? + </p> + <p> + “No idea you were in Paris—just got here myself,” Vanderlyn + continued, visibly delighted at the meeting. “Look here, don’t suppose + you’re out of a job this evening by any chance, and would come and cheer + up a lone bachelor, eh? No? You are? Well, that’s luck for once! I say, + where shall we go? One of the places where they dance, I suppose? Yes, I + twirl the light fantastic once in a while myself. Got to keep up with the + times! Hold on, taxi! Here—I’ll drive you home first, and wait while + you jump into your toggery. Lots of time.” As he steered her toward the + carriage she noticed that he had a gouty limp, and pulled himself in after + her with difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “Mayn’t I come as I am, Nelson, I don’t feel like dancing. Let’s go and + dine in one of those nice smoky little restaurants by the Place de la + Bourse.” + </p> + <p> + He seemed surprised but relieved at the suggestion, and they rolled off + together. In a corner at Bauge’s they found a quiet table, screened from + the other diners, and while Vanderlyn adjusted his eyeglasses to study the + carte Susy stole a long look at him. He was dressed with even more than + his usual formal trimness, and she detected, in an ultra-flat wrist-watch + and discreetly expensive waistcoat buttons, an attempt at smartness + altogether new. His face had undergone the same change: its familiar look + of worn optimism had been, as it were, done up to match his clothes, as + though a sort of moral cosmetic had made him pinker, shinier and + sprightlier without really rejuvenating him. A thin veil of high spirits + had merely been drawn over his face, as the shining strands of hair were + skilfully brushed over his baldness. + </p> + <p> + “Here! Carte des vins, waiter! What champagne, Susy?” He chose, + fastidiously, the best the cellar could produce, grumbling a little at the + bourgeois character of the dishes. “Capital food of its kind, no doubt, + but coarsish, don’t you think? Well, I don’t mind... it’s rather a jolly + change from the Luxe cooking. A new sensation—I’m all for new + sensations, ain’t you, my dear?” He re-filled their champagne glasses, + flung an arm sideways over his chair, and smiled at her with a foggy + benevolence. + </p> + <p> + As the champagne flowed his confidences flowed with it. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you know what I’m here for—this divorce business? We wanted + to settle it quietly without a fuss, and of course Paris is the best place + for that sort of job. Live and let live; no questions asked. None of your + dirty newspapers. Great country, this. No hypocrisy... they understand + Life over here!” + </p> + <p> + Susy gazed and listened. She remembered that people had thought Nelson + would make a row when he found out. He had always been addicted to + truculent anecdotes about unfaithful wives, and the very formula of his + perpetual ejaculation—“Caught you at it, eh?”—seemed to hint + at a constant preoccupation with such ideas. But now it was evident that, + as the saying was, he had “swallowed his dose” like all the others. No + strong blast of indignation had momentarily lifted him above his normal + stature: he remained a little man among little men, and his eagerness to + rebuild his life with all the old smiling optimism reminded Susy of the + patient industry of an ant remaking its ruined ant-heap. + </p> + <p> + “Tell you what, great thing, this liberty! Everything’s changed nowadays; + why shouldn’t marriage be too? A man can get out of a business partnership + when he wants to; but the parsons want to keep us noosed up to each other + for life because we’ve blundered into a church one day and said ‘Yes’ + before one of ’em. No, no—that’s too easy. We’ve got beyond that. + Science, and all these new discoveries.... I say the Ten Commandments were + made for man, and not man for the Commandments; and there ain’t a word + against divorce in ’em, anyhow! That’s what I tell my poor old mother, who + builds everything on her Bible. Find me the place where it says: ‘Thou + shalt not sue for divorce.’ It makes her wild, poor old lady, because she + can’t; and she doesn’t know how they happen to have left it out.... I + rather think Moses left it out because he knew more about human nature + than these snivelling modern parsons do. Not that they’ll always bear + investigating either; but I don’t care about that. Live and let live, eh, + Susy? Haven’t we all got a right to our Affinities? I hear you’re + following our example yourself. First-rate idea: I don’t mind telling you + I saw it coming on last summer at Venice. Caught you at it, so to speak! + Old Nelson ain’t as blind as people think. Here, let’s open another bottle + to the health of Streff and Mrs. Streff!” + </p> + <p> + She caught the hand with which he was signalling to the sommelier. This + flushed and garrulous Nelson moved her more poignantly than a more heroic + figure. “No more champagne, please, Nelson. Besides,” she suddenly added, + “it’s not true.” + </p> + <p> + He stared. “Not true that you’re going to marry Altringham?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “By George then what on earth did you chuck Nick for? Ain’t you got an + Affinity, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me it’s all Nick’s doing, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Let’s talk of you instead, Nelson. I’m glad you’re in such + good spirits. I rather thought—” + </p> + <p> + He interrupted her quickly. “Thought I’d cut up a rumpus—do some shooting? + I know—people did.” He twisted his moustache, evidently proud of his + reputation. “Well, maybe I did see red for a day or two—but I’m a + philosopher, first and last. Before I went into banking I’d made and lost + two fortunes out West. Well, how did I build ’em up again? Not by shooting + anybody even myself. By just buckling to, and beginning all over again. + That’s how... and that’s what I am doing now. Beginning all over again.” + His voice dropped from boastfulness to a note of wistful melancholy, the + look of strained jauntiness fell from his face like a mask, and for an + instant she saw the real man, old, ruined, lonely. Yes, that was it: he + was lonely, desperately lonely, foundering in such deep seas of solitude + that any presence out of the past was like a spar to which he clung. + Whatever he knew or guessed of the part she had played in his disaster, it + was not callousness that had made him greet her with such forgiving + warmth, but the same sense of smallness, insignificance and isolation + which perpetually hung like a cold fog on her own horizon. Suddenly she + too felt old—old and unspeakably tired. + </p> + <p> + “It’s been nice seeing you, Nelson. But now I must be getting home.” + </p> + <p> + He offered no objection, but asked for the bill, resumed his jaunty air + while he scattered largesse among the waiters, and sauntered out behind + her after calling for a taxi. + </p> + <p> + They drove off in silence. Susy was thinking: “And Clarissa?” but dared + not ask. Vanderlyn lit a cigarette, hummed a dance-tune, and stared out of + the window. Suddenly she felt his hand on hers. + </p> + <p> + “Susy—do you ever see her?” + </p> + <p> + “See—Ellie?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded, without turning toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Not often... sometimes....” + </p> + <p> + “If you do, for God’s sake tell her I’m happy... happy as a king... tell + her you could see for yourself that I was....” His voice broke in a little + gasp. “I... I’ll be damned if... if she shall ever be unhappy about me... + if I can help it....” The cigarette dropped from his fingers, and with a + sob he covered his face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, poor Nelson—poor Nelson,” Susy breathed. While their cab + rattled across the Place du Carrousel, and over the bridge, he continued + to sit beside her with hidden face. At last he pulled out a scented + handkerchief, rubbed his eyes with it, and groped for another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “I’m all right! Tell her that, will you, Susy? There are some of our old + times I don’t suppose I shall ever forget; but they make me feel kindly to + her, and not angry. I didn’t know it would be so, beforehand—but it + is.... And now the thing’s settled I’m as right as a trivet, and you can + tell her so.... Look here, Susy...” he caught her by the arm as the taxi + drew up at her hotel.... “Tell her I understand, will you? I’d rather like + her to know that....” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell her, Nelson,” she promised; and climbed the stairs alone to her + dreary room. + </p> + <p> + Susy’s one fear was that Strefford, when he returned the next day, should + treat their talk of the previous evening as a fit of “nerves” to be jested + away. He might, indeed, resent her behaviour too deeply to seek to see her + at once; but his easygoing modern attitude toward conduct and convictions + made that improbable. She had an idea that what he had most minded was her + dropping so unceremoniously out of the Embassy Dinner. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, why should she see him again? She had had enough of + explanations during the last months to have learned how seldom they + explain anything. If the other person did not understand at the first + word, at the first glance even, subsequent elucidations served only to + deepen the obscurity. And she wanted above all—and especially since + her hour with Nelson Vanderlyn—to keep herself free, aloof, to + retain her hold on her precariously recovered self. She sat down and wrote + to Strefford—and the letter was only a little less painful to write + than the one she had despatched to Nick. It was not that her own feelings + were in any like measure engaged; but because, as the decision to give up + Strefford affirmed itself, she remembered only his kindness, his + forbearance, his good humour, and all the other qualities she had always + liked in him; and because she felt ashamed of the hesitations which must + cause him so much pain and humiliation. Yes: humiliation chiefly. She knew + that what she had to say would hurt his pride, in whatever way she framed + her renunciation; and her pen wavered, hating its task. Then she + remembered Vanderlyn’s words about his wife: “There are some of our old + times I don’t suppose I shall ever forget—” and a phrase of Grace + Fulmer’s that she had but half grasped at the time: “You haven’t been + married long enough to understand how trifling such things seem in the + balance of one’s memories.” + </p> + <p> + Here were two people who had penetrated farther than she into the + labyrinth of the wedded state, and struggled through some of its thorniest + passages; and yet both, one consciously, the other half-unaware, testified + to the mysterious fact which was already dawning on her: that the + influence of a marriage begun in mutual understanding is too deep not to + reassert itself even in the moment of flight and denial. + </p> + <p> + “The real reason is that you’re not Nick” was what she would have said to + Strefford if she had dared to set down the bare truth; and she knew that, + whatever she wrote, he was too acute not to read that into it. + </p> + <p> + “He’ll think it’s because I’m still in love with Nick... and perhaps I am. + But even if I were, the difference doesn’t seem to lie there, after all, + but deeper, in things we’ve shared that seem to be meant to outlast love, + or to change it into something different.” If she could have hoped to make + Strefford understand that, the letter would have been easy enough to write—but + she knew just at what point his imagination would fail, in what obvious + and superficial inferences it would rest. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Streff—poor me!” she thought as she sealed the letter. + </p> + <p> + After she had despatched it a sense of blankness descended on her. She had + succeeded in driving from her mind all vain hesitations, doubts, returns + upon herself: her healthy system naturally rejected them. But they left a + queer emptiness in which her thoughts rattled about as thoughts might, she + supposed, in the first moments after death—before one got used to + it. To get used to being dead: that seemed to be her immediate business. + And she felt such a novice at it—felt so horribly alive! How had + those others learned to do without living? Nelson—well, he was still + in the throes; and probably never would understand, or be able to + communicate, the lesson when he had mastered it. But Grace Fulmer—she + suddenly remembered that Grace was in Paris, and set forth to find her. + </p> + + +<h3>XXIV.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Nick Lansing</span> had walked out a long way into the Campagna. His hours were + seldom his own, for both Mr. and Mrs. Hicks were becoming more and more + addicted to sudden and somewhat imperious demands upon his time; but on + this occasion he had simply slipped away after luncheon, and taking the + tram to the Porta Salaria, had wandered on thence in the direction of the + Ponte Nomentano. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to get away and think; but now that he had done it the business + proved as unfruitful as everything he had put his hand to since he had + left Venice. Think—think about what? His future seemed to him a + negligible matter since he had received, two months earlier, the few lines + in which Susy had asked him for her freedom. + </p> + <p> + The letter had been a shock—though he had fancied himself so + prepared for it—yet it had also, in another sense, been a relief, + since, now that at last circumstances compelled him to write to her, they + also told him what to say. And he had said it as briefly and simply as + possible, telling her that he would put no obstacle in the way of her + release, that he held himself at her lawyer’s disposal to answer any + further communication—and that he would never forget their days + together, or cease to bless her for them. + </p> + <p> + That was all. He gave his Roman banker’s address, and waited for another + letter; but none came. Probably the “formalities,” whatever they were, + took longer than he had supposed; and being in no haste to recover his own + liberty, he did not try to learn the cause of the delay. From that moment, + however, he considered himself virtually free, and ceased, by the same + token, to take any interest in his own future. His life seemed as flat as + a convalescent’s first days after the fever has dropped. + </p> + <p> + The only thing he was sure of was that he was not going to remain in the + Hickses’ employ: when they left Rome for Central Asia he had no intention + of accompanying them. The part of Mr. Buttles’ successor was becoming + daily more intolerable to him, for the very reasons that had probably made + it most gratifying to Mr. Buttles. To be treated by Mr. and Mrs. Hicks as + a paid oracle, a paraded and petted piece of property, was a good deal + more distasteful than he could have imagined any relation with these + kindly people could be. And since their aspirations had become frankly + social he found his task, if easier, yet far less congenial than during + his first months with them. He preferred patiently explaining to Mrs. + Hicks, for the hundredth time, that Sassanian and Saracenic were not + interchangeable terms, to unravelling for her the genealogies of her + titled guests, and reminding her, when she “seated” her dinner-parties, + that Dukes ranked higher than Princes. No—the job was decidedly + intolerable; and he would have to look out for another means of earning + his living. But that was not what he had really got away to think about. + He knew he should never starve; he had even begun to believe again in his + book. What he wanted to think of was Susy—or rather, it was Susy + that he could not help thinking of, on whatever train of thought he set + out. + </p> + <p> + Again and again he fancied he had established a truce with the past: had + come to terms—the terms of defeat and failure with that bright enemy + called happiness. And, in truth, he had reached the point of definitely + knowing that he could never return to the kind of life that he and Susy + had embarked on. It had been the tragedy, of their relation that loving + her roused in him ideals she could never satisfy. He had fallen in love + with her because she was, like himself, amused, unprejudiced and + disenchanted; and he could not go on loving her unless she ceased to be + all these things. From that circle there was no issue, and in it he + desperately revolved. + </p> + <p> + If he had not heard such persistent rumours of her re-marriage to Lord + Altringham he might have tried to see her again; but, aware of the danger + and the hopelessness of a meeting, he was, on the whole, glad to have a + reason for avoiding it. Such, at least, he honestly supposed to be his + state of mind until he found himself, as on this occasion, free to follow + out his thought to its end. That end, invariably, was Susy; not the bundle + of qualities and defects into which his critical spirit had tried to sort + her out, but the soft blur of identity, of personality, of eyes, hair, + mouth, laugh, tricks of speech and gesture, that were all so solely and + profoundly her own, and yet so mysteriously independent of what she might + do, say, think, in crucial circumstances. He remembered her once saying to + him: “After all, you were right when you wanted me to be your mistress,” + and the indignant stare of incredulity with which he had answered her. Yet + in these hours it was the palpable image of her that clung closest, till, + as invariably happened, his vision came full circle, and feeling her on + his breast he wanted her also in his soul. + </p> + <p> + Well—such all-encompassing loves were the rarest of human + experiences; he smiled at his presumption in wanting no other. Wearily he + turned, and tramped homeward through the winter twilight.... + </p> + <p> + At the door of the hotel he ran across the Prince of Teutoburg’s + aide-de-camp. They had not met for some days, and Nick had a vague feeling + that if the Prince’s matrimonial designs took definite shape he himself + was not likely, after all, to be their chosen exponent. He had surprised, + now and then, a certain distrustful coldness under the Princess Mother’s + cordial glance, and had concluded that she perhaps suspected him of being + an obstacle to her son’s aspirations. He had no idea of playing that part, + but was not sorry to appear to; for he was sincerely attached to Coral + Hicks, and hoped for her a more human fate than that of becoming Prince + Anastasius’s consort. + </p> + <p> + This evening, however, he was struck by the beaming alacrity of the + aide-de-camp’s greeting. Whatever cloud had hung between them had lifted: + the Teutoburg clan, for one reason or another, no longer feared or + distrusted him. The change was conveyed in a mere hand-pressure, a brief + exchange of words, for the aide-de-camp was hastening after a well-known + dowager of the old Roman world, whom he helped into a large coronetted + brougham which looked as if it had been extracted, for some ceremonial + purpose, from a museum of historic vehicles. And in an instant it flashed + on Lansing that this lady had been the person chosen to lay the Prince’s + offer at Miss Hicks’s feet. + </p> + <p> + The discovery piqued him; and instead of making straight for his own room + he went up to Mrs. Hicks’s drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + The room was empty, but traces of elaborate tea pervaded it, and an + immense bouquet of stiff roses lay on the centre table. As he turned away, + Eldorada Tooker, flushed and tear-stained, abruptly entered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Lansing—we were looking everywhere for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Looking for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Coral especially... she wants to see you. She wants you to come to + her own sitting-room.” + </p> + <p> + She led him across the ante-chamber and down the passage to the separate + suite which Miss Hicks inhabited. On the threshold Eldorada gasped out + emotionally: “You’ll find her looking lovely—” and jerked away with + a sob as he entered. + </p> + <p> + Coral Hicks was never lovely: but she certainly looked unusually handsome. + Perhaps it was the long dress of black velvet which, outlined against a + shaded lamp, made her strong build seem slenderer, or perhaps the slight + flush on her dusky cheek: a bloom of womanhood hung upon her which she + made no effort to dissemble. Indeed, it was one of her originalities that + she always gravely and courageously revealed the utmost of whatever mood + possessed her. + </p> + <p> + “How splendid you look!” he said, smiling at her. + </p> + <p> + She threw her head back and gazed him straight in the eyes. “That’s going + to be my future job.” + </p> + <p> + “To look splendid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And wear a crown?” + </p> + <p> + “And wear a crown....” + </p> + <p> + They continued to consider each other without speaking. Nick’s heart + contracted with pity and perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Coral—it’s not decided?” + </p> + <p> + She scrutinized him for a last penetrating moment; then she looked away. + “I’m never long deciding.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated, choking with contradictory impulses, and afraid to formulate + any, lest they should either mislead or pain her. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned lamely; and instantly perceived + his blunder. + </p> + <p> + She sat down, and looked up at him under brooding lashes—had he ever + noticed the thickness of her lashes before? + </p> + <p> + “Would it have made any difference if I had told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Any difference—?” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down by me,” she commanded. “I want to talk to you. You can say now + whatever you might have said sooner. I’m not married yet: I’m still free.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t given your answer?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn’t matter if I have.” + </p> + <p> + The retort frightened him with the glimpse of what she still expected of + him, and what he was still so unable to give. + </p> + <p> + “That means you’ve said yes?” he pursued, to gain time. + </p> + <p> + “Yes or no—it doesn’t matter. I had to say something. What I want is + your advice.” + </p> + <p> + “At the eleventh hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Or the twelfth.” She paused. “What shall I do?” she questioned, with a + sudden accent of helplessness. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her as helplessly. He could not say: “Ask yourself—ask + your parents.” Her next word would sweep away such frail hypocrisies. Her + “What shall I do?” meant “What are you going to do?” and he knew it, and + knew that she knew it. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a bad person to give any one matrimonial advice,” he began, with a + strained smile; “but I had such a different vision for you.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a vision?” She was merciless. + </p> + <p> + “Merely what people call happiness, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “‘People call’—you see you don’t believe in it yourself! Well, + neither do I—in that form, at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + He considered. “I believe in trying for it—even if the trying’s the + best of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve tried, and failed. And I’m twenty-two, and I never was young. + I suppose I haven’t enough imagination.” She drew a deep breath. “Now I + want something different.” She appeared to search for the word. “I want to + be—prominent,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + “Prominent?” + </p> + <p> + She reddened swarthily. “Oh, you smile—you think it’s ridiculous: it + doesn’t seem worth while to you. That’s because you’ve always had all + those things. But I haven’t. I know what father pushed up from, and I want + to push up as high again—higher. No, I haven’t got much imagination. + I’ve always liked Facts. And I find I shall like the fact of being a + Princess—choosing the people I associate with, and being up above + all these European grandees that father and mother bow down to, though + they think they despise them. You can be up above these people by just + being yourself; you know how. But I need a platform—a sky-scraper. + Father and mother slaved to give me my education. They thought education + was the important thing; but, since we’ve all three of us got mediocre + minds, it has just landed us among mediocre people. Don’t you suppose I + see through all the sham science and sham art and sham everything we’re + surrounded with? That’s why I want to buy a place at the very top, where I + shall be powerful enough to get about me the people I want, the big + people, the right people, and to help them I want to promote culture, like + those Renaissance women you’re always talking about. I want to do it for + Apex City; do you understand? And for father and mother too. I want all + those titles carved on my tombstone. They’re facts, anyhow! Don’t laugh at + me....” She broke off with one of her clumsy smiles, and moved away from + him to the other end of the room. + </p> + <p> + He sat looking at her with a curious feeling of admiration. Her harsh + positivism was like a tonic to his disenchanted mood, and he thought: + “What a pity!” + </p> + <p> + Aloud he said: “I don’t feel like laughing at you. You’re a great woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall be a great Princess.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—but you might have been something so much greater!” + </p> + <p> + Her face flamed again. “Don’t say that!” + </p> + <p> + He stood up involuntarily, and drew near her. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you’re the only man with whom I can imagine the other kind of + greatness.” + </p> + <p> + It moved him—moved him unexpectedly. He got as far as saying to + himself: “Good God, if she were not so hideously rich—” and then of + yielding for a moment to the persuasive vision of all that he and she + might do with those very riches which he dreaded. After all, there was + nothing mean in her ideals they were hard and material, in keeping with + her primitive and massive person; but they had a certain grim nobility. + And when she spoke of “the other kind of greatness” he knew that she + understood what she was talking of, and was not merely saying something to + draw him on, to get him to commit himself. There was not a drop of guile + in her, except that which her very honesty distilled. + </p> + <p> + “The other kind of greatness?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Well, isn’t that what you said happiness was? I wanted to be happy... but + one can’t choose.” + </p> + <p> + He went up to her. “No, one can’t choose. And how can anyone give you + happiness who hasn’t got it himself?” He took her hands, feeling how + large, muscular and voluntary they were, even as they melted in his palms. + </p> + <p> + “My poor Coral, of what use can I ever be to you? What you need is to be + loved.” + </p> + <p> + She drew back and gave him one of her straight strong glances: “No,” she + said gallantly, “but just to love.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART3" id="link2H_PART3"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART III + </h2> + + <h3> + XXV. + </h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">In</span> the persistent drizzle of a Paris winter morning Susy Lansing walked + back alone from the school at which she had just deposited the four eldest + Fulmers to the little house in Passy where, for the last two months, she + had been living with them. + </p> + <p> + She had on ready-made boots, an old waterproof and a last year’s hat; but + none of these facts disturbed her, though she took no particular pride in + them. The truth was that she was too busy to think much about them. Since + she had assumed the charge of the Fulmer children, in the absence of both + their parents in Italy, she had had to pass through such an arduous + apprenticeship of motherhood that every moment of her waking hours was + packed with things to do at once, and other things to remember to do + later. There were only five Fulmers; but at times they were like an army + with banners, and their power of self-multiplication was equalled only by + the manner in which they could dwindle, vanish, grow mute, and become as + it were a single tumbled brown head bent over a book in some corner of the + house in which nobody would ever have thought of hunting for them—and + which, of course, were it the bonne’s room in the attic, or the + subterranean closet where the trunks were kept, had been singled out by + them for that very reason. + </p> + <p> + These changes from ubiquity to invisibility would have seemed to Susy, a + few months earlier, one of the most maddening of many characteristics not + calculated to promote repose. But now she felt differently. She had grown + interested in her charges, and the search for a clue to their methods, + whether tribal or individual, was as exciting to her as the development of + a detective story. + </p> + <p> + What interested her most in the whole stirring business was the discovery + that they had a method. These little creatures, pitched upward into + experience on the tossing waves of their parents’ agitated lives, had + managed to establish a rough-and-ready system of self-government. Junie, + the eldest (the one who already chose her mother’s hats, and tried to put + order in her wardrobe) was the recognized head of the state. At twelve she + knew lots of things which her mother had never thoroughly learned, and + Susy, her temporary mother, had never even guessed at: she spoke with + authority on all vital subjects, from castor-oil to flannel under-clothes, + from the fair sharing of stamps or marbles to the number of helpings of + rice-pudding or jam which each child was entitled to. + </p> + <p> + There was hardly any appeal from her verdict; yet each of her subjects + revolved in his or her own orbit of independence, according to laws which + Junie acknowledged and respected; and the interpreting of this mysterious + charter of rights and privileges had not been without difficulty for Susy. + </p> + <p> + Besides this, there were material difficulties to deal with. The six of + them, and the breathless bonne who cooked and slaved for them all, had but + a slim budget to live on; and, as Junie remarked, you’d have thought the + boys ate their shoes, the way they vanished. They ate, certainly, a great + deal else, and mostly of a nourishing and expensive kind. They had + definite views about the amount and quality of their food, and were + capable of concerted rebellion when Susy’s catering fell beneath their + standard. All this made her life a hurried and harassing business, but + never—what she had most feared it would be a dull or depressing one. + </p> + <p> + It was not, she owned to herself, that the society of the Fulmer children + had roused in her any abstract passion for the human young. She knew—had + known since Nick’s first kiss—how she would love any child of his + and hers; and she had cherished poor little Clarissa Vanderlyn with a + shrinking and wistful solicitude. But in these rough young Fulmers she + took a positive delight, and for reasons that were increasingly clear to + her. It was because, in the first place, they were all intelligent; and + because their intelligence had been fed only on things worth caring for. + However inadequate Grace Fulmer’s bringing-up of her increasing tribe had + been, they had heard in her company nothing trivial or dull: good music, + good books and good talk had been their daily food, and if at times they + stamped and roared and crashed about like children unblessed by such + privileges, at others they shone with the light of poetry and spoke with + the voice of wisdom. + </p> + <p> + That had been Susy’s discovery: for the first time she was among awakening + minds which had been wakened only to beauty. From their cramped and + uncomfortable household Grace and Nat Fulmer had managed to keep out mean + envies, vulgar admirations, shabby discontents; above all the din and + confusion the great images of beauty had brooded, like those ancestral + figures that stood apart on their shelf in the poorest Roman households. + </p> + <p> + No, the task she had undertaken for want of a better gave Susy no sense of + a missed vocation: “mothering” on a large scale would never, she + perceived, be her job. Rather it gave her, in odd ways, the sense of being + herself mothered, of taking her first steps in the life of immaterial + values which had begun to seem so much more substantial than any she had + known. + </p> + <p> + On the day when she had gone to Grace Fulmer for counsel and comfort she + had little guessed that they would come to her in this form. She had found + her friend, more than ever distracted and yet buoyant, riding the large + untidy waves of her life with the splashed ease of an amphibian. Grace was + probably the only person among Susy’s friends who could have understood + why she could not make up her mind to marry Altringham; but at the moment + Grace was too much absorbed in her own problems to pay much attention to + her friend’s, and, according to her wont, she immediately “unpacked” her + difficulties. + </p> + <p> + Nat was not getting what she had hoped out of his European opportunity. + Oh, she was enough of an artist herself to know that there must be fallow + periods—that the impact of new impressions seldom produced immediate + results. She had allowed for all that. But her past experience of Nat’s + moods had taught her to know just when he was assimilating, when + impressions were fructifying in him. And now they were not, and he knew it + as well as she did. There had been too much rushing about, too much + excitement and sterile flattery... Mrs. Melrose? Well, yes, for a while... + the trip to Spain had been a love-journey, no doubt. Grace spoke calmly, + but the lines of her face sharpened: she had suffered, oh horribly, at his + going to Spain without her. Yet she couldn’t, for the children’s sake, + afford to miss the big sum that Ursula Gillow had given her for her + fortnight at Ruan. And her playing had struck people, and led, on the way + back, to two or three profitable engagements in private houses in London. + Fashionable society had made “a little fuss” about her, and it had + surprised and pleased Nat, and given her a new importance in his eyes. “He + was beginning to forget that I wasn’t only a nursery-maid, and it’s been a + good thing for him to be reminded... but the great thing is that with what + I’ve earned he and I can go off to southern Italy and Sicily for three + months. You know I know how to manage... and, alone with me, Nat will + settle down to work: to observing, feeling, soaking things in. It’s the + only way. Mrs. Melrose wants to take him, to pay all the expenses + again—well she shan’t. I’ll pay them.” Her worn cheek flushed with + triumph. “And you’ll see what wonders will come of it.... Only there’s the + problem of the children. Junie quite agrees that we can’t take them....” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon she had unfolded her idea. If Susy was at a loose end, and hard + up, why shouldn’t she take charge of the children while their parents were + in Italy? For three months at most—Grace could promise it shouldn’t be + longer. They couldn’t pay her much, of course, but at least she would be + lodged and fed. “And, you know, it will end by interesting you—I’m + sure it will,” the mother concluded, her irrepressible hopefulness rising + even to this height, while Susy stood before her with a hesitating smile. + </p> + <p> + Take care of five Fulmers for three months! The prospect cowed her. If + there had been only Junie and Geordie, the oldest and youngest of the + band, she might have felt less hesitation. But there was Nat, the second + in age, whose motor-horn had driven her and Nick out to the hill-side on + their fatal day at the Fulmers’ and there were the twins, Jack and Peggy, + of whom she had kept memories almost equally disquieting. To rule this + uproarious tribe would be a sterner business than trying to beguile + Clarissa Vanderlyn’s ladylike leisure; and she would have refused on the + spot, as she had refused once before, if the only possible alternatives + had not come to seem so much less bearable, and if Junie, called in for + advice, and standing there, small, plain and competent, had not said in + her quiet grown-up voice: “Oh, yes, I’m sure Mrs. Lansing and I can manage + while you’re away—especially if she reads aloud well.” + </p> + <p> + Reads aloud well! The stipulation had enchanted Susy. She had never before + known children who cared to be read aloud to; she remembered with a shiver + her attempts to interest Clarissa in anything but gossip and the fashions, + and the tone in which the child had said, showing Strefford’s trinket to + her father: “Because I said I’d rather have it than a book.” + </p> + <p> + And here were children who consented to be left for three months by their + parents, but on condition that a good reader was provided for them! + </p> + <p> + “Very well—I will! But what shall I be expected to read to you?” she + had gaily questioned; and Junie had answered, after one of her sober + pauses of reflection: “The little ones like nearly everything; but Nat and + I want poetry particularly, because if we read it to ourselves we so often + pronounce the puzzling words wrong, and then it sounds so horrid.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope I shall pronounce them right,” Susy murmured, stricken with + self-distrust and humility. + </p> + <p> + Apparently she did; for her reading was a success, and even the twins and + Geordie, once they had grown used to her, seemed to prefer a ringing page + of Henry V, or the fairy scenes from the Midsummer Night’s Dream, to their + own more specialized literature, though that had also at times to be + provided. + </p> + <p> + There were, in fact, no lulls in her life with the Fulmers; but its + commotions seemed to Susy less meaningless, and therefore less fatiguing, + than those that punctuated the existence of people like Altringham, Ursula + Gillow, Ellie Vanderlyn and their train; and the noisy uncomfortable + little house at Passy was beginning to greet her with the eyes of home + when she returned there after her tramps to and from the children’s + classes. At any rate she had the sense of doing something useful and even + necessary, and of earning her own keep, though on so modest a scale; and + when the children were in their quiet mood, and demanded books or music + (or, even, on one occasion, at the surprising Junie’s instigation, a + collective visit to the Louvre, where they recognized the most unlikely + pictures, and the two elders emitted startling technical judgments, and + called their companion’s attention to details she had not observed); on + these occasions, Susy had a surprised sense of being drawn back into her + brief life with Nick, or even still farther and deeper, into those visions + of Nick’s own childhood on which the trivial later years had heaped their + dust. + </p> + <p> + It was curious to think that if he and she had remained together, and she + had had a child—the vision used to come to her, in her sleepless + hours, when she looked at little Geordie, in his cot by her bed—their + life together might have been very much like the life she was now leading, + a small obscure business to the outer world, but to themselves how wide + and deep and crowded! + </p> + <p> + She could not bear, at that moment, the thought of giving up this mystic + relation to the life she had missed. In spite of the hurry and fatigue of + her days, the shabbiness and discomfort of everything, and the hours when + the children were as “horrid” as any other children, and turned a + conspiracy of hostile faces to all her appeals; in spite of all this she + did not want to give them up, and had decided, when their parents + returned, to ask to go back to America with them. Perhaps, if Nat’s + success continued, and Grace was able to work at her music, they would + need a kind of governess-companion. At any rate, she could picture no + future less distasteful. + </p> + <p> + She had not sent to Mr. Spearman Nick’s answer to her letter. In the + interval between writing to him and receiving his reply she had broken + with Strefford; she had therefore no object in seeking her freedom. If + Nick wanted his, he knew he had only to ask for it; and his silence, as + the weeks passed, woke a faint hope in her. The hope flamed high when she + read one day in the newspapers a vague but evidently “inspired” allusion + to the possibility of an alliance between his Serene Highness the reigning + Prince of Teutoburg-Waldhain and Miss Coral Hicks of Apex City; it sank to + ashes when, a few days later, her eye lit on a paragraph wherein Mr. and + Mrs. Mortimer Hicks “requested to state” that there was no truth in the + report. + </p> + <p> + On the foundation of these two statements Susy raised one watch-tower of + hope after another, feverish edifices demolished or rebuilt by every + chance hint from the outer world wherein Nick’s name figured with the + Hickses’. And still, as the days passed and she heard nothing, either from + him or from her lawyer, her flag continued to fly from the quaking + structures. + </p> + <p> + Apart from the custody of the children there was indeed little to distract + her mind from these persistent broodings. She winced sometimes at the + thought of the ease with which her fashionable friends had let her drop + out of sight. In the perpetual purposeless rush of their days, the + feverish making of winter plans, hurrying off to the Riviera or St. + Moritz, Egypt or New York, there was no time to hunt up the vanished or to + wait for the laggard. Had they learned that she had broken her + “engagement” (how she hated the word!) to Strefford, and had the fact gone + about that she was once more only a poor hanger-on, to be taken up when it + was convenient, and ignored in the intervals? She did not know; though she + fancied Strefford’s newly-developed pride would prevent his revealing to + any one what had passed between them. For several days after her abrupt + flight he had made no sign; and though she longed to write and ask his + forgiveness she could not find the words. Finally it was he who wrote: a + short note, from Altringham, typical of all that was best in the old + Strefford. He had gone down to Altringham, he told her, to think quietly + over their last talk, and try to understand what she had been driving at. + He had to own that he couldn’t; but that, he supposed, was the very head + and front of his offending. Whatever he had done to displease her, he was + sorry for; but he asked, in view of his invincible ignorance, to be + allowed not to regard his offence as a cause for a final break. The + possibility of that, he found, would make him even more unhappy than he + had foreseen; as she knew, his own happiness had always been his first + object in life, and he therefore begged her to suspend her decision a + little longer. He expected to be in Paris within another two months, and + before arriving he would write again, and ask her to see him. + </p> + <p> + The letter moved her but did not make her waver. She simply wrote that she + was touched by his kindness, and would willingly see him if he came to + Paris later; though she was bound to tell him that she had not yet changed + her mind, and did not believe it would promote his happiness to have her + try to do so. + </p> + <p> + He did not reply to this, and there was nothing further to keep her + thoughts from revolving endlessly about her inmost hopes and fears. + </p> + <p> + On the rainy afternoon in question, tramping home from the “cours” (to + which she was to return at six), she had said to herself that it was two + months that very day since Nick had known she was ready to release him—and + that after such a delay he was not likely to take any further steps. The + thought filled her with a vague ecstasy. She had had to fix an arbitrary + date as the term of her anguish, and she had fixed that one; and behold + she was justified. For what could his silence mean but that he too.... + </p> + <p> + On the hall-table lay a typed envelope with the Paris postage-mark. She + opened it carelessly, and saw that the letter-head bore Mr. Spearman’s + office address. The words beneath spun round before her eyes.... “Has + notified us that he is at your disposal... carry out your wishes... + arriving in Paris... fix an appointment with his lawyers....” + </p> + <p> + Nick—it was Nick the words were talking of! It was the fact of + Nick’s return to Paris that was being described in those preposterous + terms! She sank down on the bench beside the dripping umbrella-stand and + stared vacantly before her. It had fallen at last—this blow in which + she now saw that she had never really believed! And yet she had imagined + she was prepared for it, had expected it, was already planning her future + life in view of it—an effaced impersonal life in the service of + somebody else’s children—when, in reality, under that thin surface + of abnegation and acceptance, all the old hopes had been smouldering + red-hot in their ashes! What was the use of any self-discipline, any + philosophy, any experience, if the lawless self underneath could in an + instant consume them like tinder? + </p> + <p> + She tried to collect herself—to understand what had happened. Nick + was coming to Paris—coming not to see her but to consult his lawyer! + It meant, of course, that he had definitely resolved to claim his freedom; + and that, if he had made up his mind to this final step, after more than + six months of inaction and seeming indifference, it could be only because + something unforeseen and decisive had happened to him. Feverishly, she put + together again the stray scraps of gossip and the newspaper paragraphs + that had reached her in the last months. It was evident that Miss Hicks’s + projected marriage with the Prince of Teutoburg-Waldhain had been broken + off at the last moment; and broken off because she intended to marry Nick. + The announcement of his arrival in Paris and the publication of Mr. and + Mrs. Hicks’s formal denial of their daughter’s betrothal coincided too + closely to admit of any other inference. Susy tried to grasp the reality + of these assembled facts, to picture to herself their actual tangible + results. She thought of Coral Hicks bearing the name of Mrs. Nick Lansing—her + name, Susy’s own!—and entering drawing-rooms with Nick in her wake, + gaily welcomed by the very people who, a few months before, had welcomed + Susy with the same warmth. In spite of Nick’s growing dislike of society, + and Coral’s attitude of intellectual superiority, their wealth would + fatally draw them back into the world to which Nick was attached by all + his habits and associations. And no doubt it would amuse him to re-enter + that world as a dispenser of hospitality, to play the part of host where + he had so long been a guest; just as Susy had once fancied it would amuse + her to re-enter it as Lady Altringham.... But, try as she would, now that + the reality was so close on her, she could not visualize it or relate it + to herself. The mere juxtaposition of the two names—Coral, Nick—which + in old times she had so often laughingly coupled, now produced a blur in + her brain. + </p> + <p> + She continued to sit helplessly beside the hall-table, the tears running + down her cheeks. The appearance of the bonne aroused her. Her youngest + charge, Geordie, had been feverish for a day or two; he was better, but + still confined to the nursery, and he had heard Susy unlock the + house-door, and could not imagine why she had not come straight up to him. + He now began to manifest his indignation in a series of racking howls, and + Susy, shaken out of her trance, dropped her cloak and umbrella and hurried + up. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that child!” she groaned. + </p> + <p> + Under the Fulmer roof there was little time or space for the indulgence of + private sorrows. From morning till night there was always some immediate + practical demand on one’s attention; and Susy was beginning to see how, in + contracted households, children may play a part less romantic but not less + useful than that assigned to them in fiction, through the mere fact of + giving their parents no leisure to dwell on irremediable grievances. + Though her own apprenticeship to family life had been so short, she had + already acquired the knack of rapid mental readjustment, and as she + hurried up to the nursery her private cares were dispelled by a dozen + problems of temperature, diet and medicine. + </p> + <p> + Such readjustment was of course only momentary; yet each time it happened + it seemed to give her more firmness and flexibility of temper. “What a + child I was myself six months ago!” she thought, wondering that Nick’s + influence, and the tragedy of their parting, should have done less to + mature and steady her than these few weeks in a house full of children. + </p> + <p> + Pacifying Geordie was not easy, for he had long since learned to use his + grievances as a pretext for keeping the offender at his beck with a + continuous supply of stories, songs and games. “You’d better be careful + never to put yourself in the wrong with Geordie,” the astute Junie had + warned Susy at the outset, “because he’s got such a memory, and he won’t + make it up with you till you’ve told him every fairy-tale he’s ever heard + before.” + </p> + <p> + But on this occasion, as soon as he saw her, Geordie’s indignation melted. + She was still in the doorway, compunctious, abject and racking her dazed + brain for his favourite stories, when she saw, by the smoothing out of his + mouth and the sudden serenity of his eyes, that he was going to give her + the delicious but not wholly reassuring shock of being a good boy. + </p> + <p> + Thoughtfully he examined her face as she knelt down beside the cot; then + he poked out a finger and pressed it on her tearful cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Susy got a pain too,” he said, putting his arms about her; and as + she hugged him close, he added philosophically: “Tell Geordie a new story, + darling, and you’ll forget all about it.” + </p> + + +<h3>XXVI.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Nick Lansing</span> arrived in Paris two days after his lawyer had announced his + coming to Mr. Spearman. + </p> + <p> + He had left Rome with the definite purpose of freeing himself and Susy; + and though he was not pledged to Coral Hicks he had not concealed from her + the object of his journey. In vain had he tried to rouse in himself any + sense of interest in his own future. Beyond the need of reaching a + definite point in his relation to Susy his imagination could not travel. + But he had been moved by Coral’s confession, and his reason told him that + he and she would probably be happy together, with the temperate happiness + based on a community of tastes and an enlargement of opportunities. He + meant, on his return to Rome, to ask her to marry him; and he knew that + she knew it. Indeed, if he had not spoken before leaving it was with no + idea of evading his fate, or keeping her longer in suspense, but simply + because of the strange apathy that had fallen on him since he had received + Susy’s letter. In his incessant self-communings he dressed up this apathy + as a discretion which forbade his engaging Coral’s future till his own was + assured. But in truth he knew that Coral’s future was already engaged, and + his with it: in Rome the fact had seemed natural and even inevitable. + </p> + <p> + In Paris, it instantly became the thinnest of unrealities. Not because + Paris was not Rome, nor because it was Paris; but because hidden away + somewhere in that vast unheeding labyrinth was the half-forgotten part of + himself that was Susy.... For weeks, for months past, his mind had been + saturated with Susy: she had never seemed more insistently near him than + as their separation lengthened, and the chance of reunion became less + probable. It was as if a sickness long smouldering in him had broken out + and become acute, enveloping him in the Nessus-shirt of his memories. + There were moments when, to his memory, their actual embraces seemed + perfunctory, accidental, compared with this deep deliberate imprint of her + soul on his. + </p> + <p> + Yet now it had become suddenly different. Now that he was in the same + place with her, and might at any moment run across her, meet her eyes, + hear her voice, avoid her hand—now that penetrating ghost of her + with which he had been living was sucked back into the shadows, and he + seemed, for the first time since their parting, to be again in her actual + presence. He woke to the fact on the morning of his arrival, staring down + from his hotel window on a street she would perhaps walk through that very + day, and over a limitless huddle of roofs, one of which covered her at + that hour. The abruptness of the transition startled him; he had not known + that her mere geographical nearness would take him by the throat in that + way. What would it be, then, if she were to walk into the room? + </p> + <p> + Thank heaven that need never happen! He was sufficiently informed as to + French divorce proceedings to know that they would not necessitate a + confrontation with his wife; and with ordinary luck, and some precautions, + he might escape even a distant glimpse of her. He did not mean to remain + in Paris more than a few days; and during that time it would be easy—knowing, + as he did, her tastes and Altringham’s—to avoid the places where she + was likely to be met. He did not know where she was living, but imagined + her to be staying with Mrs. Melrose, or some other rich friend, or else + lodged, in prospective affluence, at the Nouveau Luxe, or in a pretty flat + of her own. Trust Susy—ah, the pang of it—to “manage”! + </p> + <p> + His first visit was to his lawyer’s; and as he walked through the familiar + streets each approaching face, each distant figure seemed hers. The + obsession was intolerable. It would not last, of course; but meanwhile he + had the exposed sense of a fugitive in a nightmare, who feels himself the + only creature visible in a ghostly and besetting multitude. The eye of the + metropolis seemed fixed on him in an immense unblinking stare. + </p> + <p> + At the lawyer’s he was told that, as a first step to freedom, he must + secure a domicile in Paris. He had of course known of this necessity: he + had seen too many friends through the Divorce Court, in one country or + another, not to be fairly familiar with the procedure. But the fact + presented a different aspect as soon as he tried to relate it to himself + and Susy: it was as though Susy’s personality were a medium through which + events still took on a transfiguring colour. He found the “domicile” that + very day: a tawdrily furnished rez-de-chaussee, obviously destined to far + different uses. And as he sat there, after the concierge had discreetly + withdrawn with the first quarter’s payment in her pocket, and stared about + him at the vulgar plushy place, he burst out laughing at what it was about + to figure in the eyes of the law: a Home, and a Home desecrated by his own + act! The Home in which he and Susy had reared their precarious bliss, and + seen it crumble at the brutal touch of his unfaithfulness and his cruelty—for + he had been told that he must be cruel to her as well as unfaithful! He + looked at the walls hung with sentimental photogravures, at the shiny + bronze “nudes,” the moth-eaten animal-skins and the bedizened bed—and once + more the unreality, the impossibility, of all that was happening to him + entered like a drug into his veins. + </p> + <p> + To rouse himself he stood up, turned the key on the hideous place, and + returned to his lawyer’s. He knew that in the hard dry atmosphere of the + office the act of giving the address of the flat would restore some kind + of reality to the phantasmal transaction. And with wonder he watched the + lawyer, as a matter of course, pencil the street and the number on one of + the papers enclosed in a folder on which his own name was elaborately + engrossed. + </p> + <p> + As he took leave it occurred to him to ask where Susy was living. At least + he imagined that it had just occurred to him, and that he was making the + enquiry merely as a measure of precaution, in order to know what quarter + of Paris to avoid; but in reality the question had been on his lips since + he had first entered the office, and lurking in his mind since he had + emerged from the railway station that morning. The fact of not knowing + where she lived made the whole of Paris a meaningless unintelligible + place, as useless to him as the face of a huge clock that has lost its + hour hand. + </p> + <p> + The address in Passy surprised him: he had imagined that she would be + somewhere in the neighborhood of the Champs Elysees or the Place de + l’Etoile. But probably either Mrs. Melrose or Ellie Vanderlyn had taken a + house at Passy. Well—it was something of a relief to know that she + was so far off. No business called him to that almost suburban region + beyond the Trocadero, and there was much less chance of meeting her than + if she had been in the centre of Paris. + </p> + <p> + All day he wandered, avoiding the fashionable quarters, the streets in + which private motors glittered five deep, and furred and feathered + silhouettes glided from them into tea-rooms, picture-galleries and + jewellers’ shops. In some such scenes Susy was no doubt figuring: + slenderer, finer, vivider, than the other images of clay, but imitating + their gestures, chattering their jargon, winding her hand among the same + pearls and sables. He struck away across the Seine, along the quays to the + Cite, the net-work of old Paris, the great grey vaults of St. Eustache, + the swarming streets of the Marais. He gazed at monuments dawdled before + shop-windows, sat in squares and on quays, watching people bargain, argue, + philander, quarrel, work-girls stroll past in linked bands, beggars whine + on the bridges, derelicts doze in the pale winter sun, mothers in mourning + hasten by taking children to school, and street-walkers beat their weary + rounds before the cafes. + </p> + <p> + The day drifted on. Toward evening he began to grow afraid of his + solitude, and to think of dining at the Nouveau Luxe, or some other + fashionable restaurant where he would be fairly sure to meet + acquaintances, and be carried off to a theatre, a boite or a dancing-hall. + Anything, anything now, to get away from the maddening round of his + thoughts. He felt the same blank fear of solitude as months ago in + Genoa.... Even if he were to run across Susy and Altringham, what of it? + Better get the job over. People had long since ceased to take on tragedy + airs about divorce: dividing couples dined together to the last, and met + afterward in each other’s houses, happy in the consciousness that their + respective remarriages had provided two new centres of entertainment. Yet + most of the couples who took their re-matings so philosophically had + doubtless had their hour of enchantment, of belief in the immortality of + loving; whereas he and Susy had simply and frankly entered into a business + contract for their mutual advantage. The fact gave the last touch of + incongruity to his agonies and exaltations, and made him appear to himself + as grotesque and superannuated as the hero of a romantic novel. + </p> + <p> + He stood up from a bench on which he had been lounging in the Luxembourg + gardens, and hailed a taxi. Dusk had fallen, and he meant to go back to + his hotel, take a rest, and then go out to dine. But instead, he threw + Susy’s address to the driver, and settled down in the cab, resting both + hands on the knob of his umbrella and staring straight ahead of him as if + he were accomplishing some tiresome duty that had to be got through with + before he could turn his mind to more important things. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the easiest way,” he heard himself say. + </p> + <p> + At the street-corner—her street-corner—he stopped the cab, and + stood motionless while it rattled away. It was a short vague street, much + farther off than he had expected, and fading away at the farther end in a + dusky blur of hoardings overhung by trees. A thin rain was beginning to + fall, and it was already night in this inadequately lit suburban quarter. + Lansing walked down the empty street. The houses stood a few yards apart, + with bare-twigged shrubs between, and gates and railings dividing them + from the pavement. He could not, at first, distinguish their numbers; but + presently, coming abreast of a street-lamp, he discovered that the small + shabby facade it illuminated was precisely the one he sought. The + discovery surprised him. He had imagined that, as frequently happened in + the outlying quarters of Passy and La Muette, the mean street would lead + to a stately private hotel, built upon some bowery fragment of an old + country-place. It was the latest whim of the wealthy to establish + themselves on these outskirts of Paris, where there was still space for + verdure; and he had pictured Susy behind some pillared house-front, with + lights pouring across glossy turf to sculptured gateposts. Instead, he saw + a six-windowed house, huddled among neighbours of its kind, with the + family wash fluttering between meagre bushes. The arc-light beat + ironically on its front, which had the worn look of a tired work-woman’s + face; and Lansing, as he leaned against the opposite railing, vainly tried + to fit his vision of Susy into so humble a setting. + </p> + <p> + The probable explanation was that his lawyer had given him the wrong + address; not only the wrong number but the wrong street. He pulled out the + slip of paper, and was crossing over to decipher it under the lamp, when + an errand-boy appeared out of the obscurity, and approached the house. + Nick drew back, and the boy, unlatching the gate, ran up the steps and + gave the bell a pull. + </p> + <p> + Almost immediately the door opened; and there stood Susy, the light full + upon her, and upon a red-checked child against her shoulder. The space + behind them was dark, or so dimly lit that it formed a black background to + her vivid figure. She looked at the errand-boy without surprise, took his + parcel, and after he had turned away, lingered a moment in the door, + glancing down the empty street. + </p> + <p> + That moment, to her watcher, seemed quicker than a flash yet as long as a + life-time. There she was, a stone’s throw away, but utterly unconscious of + his presence: his Susy, the old Susy, and yet a new Susy, curiously + transformed, transfigured almost, by the new attitude in which he beheld + her. + </p> + <p> + In the first shock of the vision he forgot his surprise at her being in + such a place, forgot to wonder whose house she was in, or whose was the + sleepy child in her arms. For an instant she stood out from the blackness + behind her, and through the veil of the winter night, a thing apart, an + unconditioned vision, the eternal image of the woman and the child; and in + that instant everything within him was changed and renewed. His eyes were + still absorbing her, finding again the familiar curves of her light body, + noting the thinness of the lifted arm that upheld the little boy, the + droop of the shoulder he weighed on, the brooding way in which her cheek + leaned to his even while she looked away; then she drew back, the door + closed, and the street-lamp again shone on blankness. + </p> + <p> + “But she’s mine!” Nick cried, in a fierce triumph of recovery... + </p> + <p> + His eyes were so full of her that he shut them to hold in the crowding + vision. + </p> + <p> + It remained with him, at first, as a complete picture; then gradually it + broke up into its component parts, the child vanished, the strange house + vanished, and Susy alone stood before him, his own Susy, only his Susy, + yet changed, worn, tempered—older, even—with sharper shadows + under the cheek-bones, the brows drawn, the joint of the slim wrist more + prominent. It was not thus that his memory had evoked her, and he + recalled, with a remorseful pang, the fact that something in her look, her + dress, her tired and drooping attitude, suggested poverty, dependence, + seemed to make her after all a part of the shabby house in which, at first + sight, her presence had seemed so incongruous. + </p> + <p> + “But she looks poor!” he thought, his heart tightening. And instantly it + occurred to him that these must be the Fulmer children whom she was living + with while their parents travelled in Italy. Rumours of Nat Fulmer’s + sudden ascension had reached him, and he had heard that the couple had + lately been seen in Naples and Palermo. No one had mentioned Susy’s name + in connection with them, and he could hardly tell why he had arrived at + this conclusion, except perhaps because it seemed natural that, if Susy + were in trouble, she should turn to her old friend Grace. + </p> + <p> + But why in trouble? What trouble? What could have happened to check her + triumphant career? + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I mean to find out!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + His heart was beating with a tumult of new hopes and old memories. The + sight of his wife, so remote in mien and manner from the world in which he + had imagined her to be re-absorbed, changed in a flash his own relation to + life, and flung a mist of unreality over all that he had been trying to + think most solid and tangible. Nothing now was substantial to him but the + stones of the street in which he stood, the front of the house which hid + her, the bell-handle he already felt in his grasp. He started forward, and + was halfway to the threshold when a private motor turned the corner, the + twin glitter of its lamps carpeting the wet street with gold to Susy’s + door. + </p> + <p> + Lansing drew back into the shadow as the motor swept up to the house. A + man jumped out, and the light fell on Strefford’s shambling figure, its + lazy disjointed movements so unmistakably the same under his fur coat, and + in the new setting of prosperity. + </p> + <p> + Lansing stood motionless, staring at the door. Strefford rang, and waited. + Would Susy appear again? Perhaps she had done so before only because she + had been on the watch.... + </p> + <p> + But no: after a slight delay a bonne appeared—the breathless + maid-of-all-work of a busy household—and at once effaced herself, + letting the visitor in. Lansing was sure that not a word passed between + the two, of enquiry on Lord Altringham’s part, or of acquiescence on the + servant’s. There could be no doubt that he was expected. + </p> + <p> + The door closed on him, and a light appeared behind the blind of the + adjoining window. The maid had shown the visitor into the sitting-room and + lit the lamp. Upstairs, meanwhile, Susy was no doubt running skilful + fingers through her tumbled hair and daubing her pale lips with red. Ah, + how Lansing knew every movement of that familiar rite, even to the pucker + of the brow and the pouting thrust-out of the lower lip! He was seized + with a sense of physical sickness as the succession of remembered gestures + pressed upon his eyes.... And the other man? The other man, inside the + house, was perhaps at that very instant smiling over the remembrance of + the same scene! + </p> + <p> + At the thought, Lansing plunged away into the night. + </p> + + +<h3>XXVII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Susy</span> and Lord Altringham sat in the little drawing-room, divided from each + other by a table carrying a smoky lamp and heaped with tattered + school-books. + </p> + <p> + In another half hour the bonne, despatched to fetch the children from + their classes, would be back with her flock; and at any moment Geordie’s + imperious cries might summon his slave up to the nursery. In the scant + time allotted them, the two sat, and visibly wondered what to say. + </p> + <p> + Strefford, on entering, had glanced about the dreary room, with its piano + laden with tattered music, the children’s toys littering the lame sofa, + the bunches of dyed grass and impaled butterflies flanking the cast-bronze + clock. Then he had turned to Susy and asked simply: “Why on earth are you + here?” + </p> + <p> + She had not tried to explain; from the first, she had understood the + impossibility of doing so. And she would not betray her secret longing to + return to Nick, now that she knew that Nick had taken definite steps for + his release. In dread lest Strefford should have heard of this, and should + announce it to her, coupling it with the news of Nick’s projected + marriage, and lest, hearing her fears thus substantiated, she should lose + her self-control, she had preferred to say, in a voice that she tried to + make indifferent: “The ‘proceedings,’ or whatever the lawyers call them, + have begun. While they’re going on I like to stay quite by myself.... I + don’t know why....” + </p> + <p> + Strefford, at that, had looked at her keenly. “Ah,” he murmured; and his + lips were twisted into their old mocking smile. “Speaking of proceedings,” + he went on carelessly, “what stage have Ellie’s reached, I wonder? I saw + her and Vanderlyn and Bockheimer all lunching cheerfully together to-day + at Larue’s.” + </p> + <p> + The blood rushed to Susy’s forehead. She remembered her tragic evening + with Nelson Vanderlyn, only two months earlier, and thought to herself. + “In time, then, I suppose, Nick and I....” + </p> + <p> + Aloud she said: “I can’t imagine how Nelson and Ellie can ever want to see + each other again. And in a restaurant, of all places!” + </p> + <p> + Strefford continued to smile. “My dear, you’re incorrigibly old-fashioned. + Why should two people who’ve done each other the best turn they could by + getting out of each other’s way at the right moment behave like sworn + enemies ever afterward? It’s too absurd; the humbug’s too flagrant. + Whatever our generation has failed to do, it’s got rid of humbug; and + that’s enough to immortalize it. I daresay Nelson and Ellie never liked + each other better than they do to-day. Twenty years ago, they’d have been + afraid to confess it; but why shouldn’t they now?” + </p> + <p> + Susy looked at Strefford, conscious that under his words was the ache of + the disappointment she had caused him; and yet conscious also that that + very ache was not the overwhelming penetrating emotion he perhaps wished + it to be, but a pang on a par with a dozen others; and that even while he + felt it he foresaw the day when he should cease to feel it. And she + thought to herself that this certainty of oblivion must be bitterer than + any certainty of pain. + </p> + <p> + A silence had fallen between them. He broke it by rising from his seat, + and saying with a shrug: “You’ll end by driving me to marry Joan + Senechal.” + </p> + <p> + Susy smiled. “Well, why not? She’s lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but she’ll bore me.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Streff! So should I—” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. But nothing like as soon—” He grinned sardonically. + “There’d be more margin.” He appeared to wait for her to speak. “And what + else on earth are you going to do?” he concluded, as she still remained + silent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Streff, I couldn’t marry you for a reason like that!” she murmured at + length. + </p> + <p> + “Then marry me, and find your reason afterward.” + </p> + <p> + Her lips made a movement of denial, and still in silence she held out her + hand for good-bye. He clasped it, and then turned away; but on the + threshold he paused, his screwed-up eyes fixed on her wistfully. + </p> + <p> + The look moved her, and she added hurriedly: “The only reason I can find + is one for not marrying you. It’s because I can’t yet feel unmarried + enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Unmarried enough? But I thought Nick was doing his best to make you feel + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But even when he has—sometimes I think even that won’t make + any difference.” + </p> + <p> + He still scrutinized her hesitatingly, with the gravest eyes she had ever + seen in his careless face. + </p> + <p> + “My dear, that’s rather the way I feel about you,” he said simply as he + turned to go. + </p> + <p> + That evening after the children had gone to bed Susy sat up late in the + cheerless sitting-room. She was not thinking of Strefford but of Nick. He + was coming to Paris—perhaps he had already arrived. The idea that he + might be in the same place with her at that very moment, and without her + knowing it, was so strange and painful that she felt a violent revolt of + all her strong and joy-loving youth. Why should she go on suffering so + unbearably, so abjectly, so miserably? If only she could see him, hear his + voice, even hear him say again such cruel and humiliating words as he had + spoken on that dreadful day in Venice when that would be better than this + blankness, this utter and final exclusion from his life! He had been cruel + to her, unimaginably cruel: hard, arrogant, unjust; and had been so, + perhaps, deliberately, because he already wanted to be free. But she was + ready to face even that possibility, to humble herself still farther than + he had humbled her—she was ready to do anything, if only she might + see him once again. + </p> + <p> + She leaned her aching head on her hands and pondered. Do anything? But + what could she do? Nothing that should hurt him, interfere with his + liberty, be false to the spirit of their pact: on that she was more than + ever resolved. She had made a bargain, and she meant to stick to it, not + for any abstract reason, but simply because she happened to love him in + that way. Yes—but to see him again, only once! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she remembered what Strefford had said about Nelson Vanderlyn and + his wife. “Why should two people who’ve just done each other the best turn + they could behave like sworn enemies ever after?” If in offering Nick his + freedom she had indeed done him such a service as that, perhaps he no + longer hated her, would no longer be unwilling to see her.... At any rate, + why should she not write to him on that assumption, write in a spirit of + simple friendliness, suggesting that they should meet and “settle things”? + The business-like word “settle” (how she hated it) would prove to him that + she had no secret designs upon his liberty; and besides he was too + unprejudiced, too modern, too free from what Strefford called humbug, not + to understand and accept such a suggestion. After all, perhaps Strefford + was right; it was something to have rid human relations of hypocrisy, even + if, in the process, so many exquisite things seemed somehow to have been + torn away with it.... + </p> + <p> + She ran up to her room, scribbled a note, and hurried with it through the + rain and darkness to the post-box at the corner. As she returned through + the empty street she had an odd feeling that it was not empty—that + perhaps Nick was already there, somewhere near her in the night, about to + follow her to the door, enter the house, go up with her to her bedroom in + the old way. It was strange how close he had been brought by the mere fact + of her having written that little note to him! + </p> + <p> + In the bedroom, Geordie lay in his crib in ruddy slumber, and she blew out + the candle and undressed softly for fear of waking him. + </p> + <p> + Nick Lansing, the next day, received Susy’s letter, transmitted to his + hotel from the lawyer’s office. + </p> + <p> + He read it carefully, two or three times over, weighing and scrutinizing + the guarded words. She proposed that they should meet to “settle things.” + What things? And why should he accede to such a request? What secret + purpose had prompted her? It was horrible that nowadays, in thinking of + Susy, he should always suspect ulterior motives, be meanly on the watch + for some hidden tortuousness. What on earth was she trying to “manage” + now, he wondered. + </p> + <p> + A few hours ago, at the sight of her, all his hardness had melted, and he + had charged himself with cruelty, with injustice, with every sin of pride + against himself and her; but the appearance of Strefford, arriving at that + late hour, and so evidently expected and welcomed, had driven back the + rising tide of tenderness. + </p> + <p> + Yet, after all, what was there to wonder at? Nothing was changed in their + respective situations. He had left his wife, deliberately, and for reasons + which no subsequent experience had caused him to modify. She had + apparently acquiesced in his decision, and had utilized it, as she was + justified in doing, to assure her own future. + </p> + <p> + In all this, what was there to wail or knock the breast between two people + who prided themselves on looking facts in the face, and making their grim + best of them, without vain repinings? He had been right in thinking their + marriage an act of madness. Her charms had overruled his judgment, and + they had had their year... their mad year... or at least all but two or + three months of it. But his first intuition had been right; and now they + must both pay for their madness. The Fates seldom forget the bargains made + with them, or fail to ask for compound interest. Why not, then, now that + the time had come, pay up gallantly, and remember of the episode only what + had made it seem so supremely worth the cost? + </p> + <p> + He sent a pneumatic telegram to Mrs. Nicholas Lansing to say that he would + call on her that afternoon at four. “That ought to give us time,” he + reflected drily, “to ‘settle things,’ as she calls it, without interfering + with Strefford’s afternoon visit.” + </p> + + +<h3>XXVIII.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">Her</span> husband’s note had briefly said: + </p> + <p> + “To-day at four o’clock. N.L.” + </p> + <p> + All day she pored over the words in an agony of longing, trying to read + into them regret, emotion, memories, some echo of the tumult in her own + bosom. But she had signed “Susy,” and he signed “N.L.” That seemed to put + an abyss between them. After all, she was free and he was not. Perhaps, in + view of his situation, she had only increased the distance between them by + her unconventional request for a meeting. + </p> + <p> + She sat in the little drawing-room, and the cast-bronze clock ticked out + the minutes. She would not look out of the window: it might bring bad luck + to watch for him. And it seemed to her that a thousand invisible spirits, + hidden demons of good and evil, pressed about her, spying out her + thoughts, counting her heart-beats, ready to pounce upon the least symptom + of over-confidence and turn it deftly to derision. Oh, for an altar on + which to pour out propitiatory offerings! But what sweeter could they have + than her smothered heart-beats, her choked-back tears? + </p> + <p> + The bell rang, and she stood up as if a spring had jerked her to her feet. + In the mirror between the dried grasses her face looked long pale + inanimate. Ah, if he should find her too changed—! If there were but + time to dash upstairs and put on a touch of red.... + </p> + <p> + The door opened; it shut on him; he was there. + </p> + <p> + He said: “You wanted to see me?” + </p> + <p> + She answered: “Yes.” And her heart seemed to stop beating. + </p> + <p> + At first she could not make out what mysterious change had come over him, + and why it was that in looking at him she seemed to be looking at a + stranger; then she perceived that his voice sounded as it used to sound + when he was talking to other people; and she said to herself, with a sick + shiver of understanding, that she had become an “other person” to him. + </p> + <p> + There was a deathly pause; then she faltered out, not knowing what she + said: “Nick—you’ll sit down?” + </p> + <p> + He said: “Thanks,” but did not seem to have heard her, for he continued to + stand motionless, half the room between them. And slowly the uselessness, + the hopelessness of his being there overcame her. A wall of granite seemed + to have built itself up between them. She felt as if it hid her from him, + as if with those remote new eyes of his he were staring into the wall and + not at her. Suddenly she said to herself: “He’s suffering more than I am, + because he pities me, and is afraid to tell me that he is going to be + married.” + </p> + <p> + The thought stung her pride, and she lifted her head and met his eyes with + a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think,” she said, “it’s more sensible—with everything so + changed in our lives—that we should meet as friends, in this way? I + wanted to tell you that you needn’t feel—feel in the least unhappy + about me.” + </p> + <p> + A deep flush rose to his forehead. “Oh, I know—I know that—” + he declared hastily; and added, with a factitious animation: “But thank + you for telling me.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing, is there,” she continued, “to make our meeting in this + way in the least embarrassing or painful to either of us, when both have + found....” She broke off, and held her hand out to him. “I’ve heard about + you and Coral,” she ended. + </p> + <p> + He just touched her hand with cold fingers, and let it drop. “Thank you,” + he said for the third time. + </p> + <p> + “You won’t sit down?” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think,” she continued, “that the new way of... of meeting as + friends... and talking things over without ill-will... is much pleasanter + and more sensible, after all?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. “It’s immensely kind of you to feel that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I do feel it!” She stopped short, and wondered what on earth she had + meant to say next, and why she had so abruptly lost the thread of her + discourse. + </p> + <p> + In the pause she heard him cough slightly and clear his throat. “Let me + say, then,” he began, “that I’m glad too—immensely glad that your + own future is so satisfactorily settled.” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her glance again to his walled face, in which not a muscle + stirred. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: it—it makes everything easier for you, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “For you too, I hope.” He paused, and then went on: “I want also to tell + you that I perfectly understand—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she interrupted, “so do I; your point of view, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + They were again silent. + </p> + <p> + “Nick, why can’t we be friends real friends? Won’t it be easier?” she + broke out at last with twitching lips. + </p> + <p> + “Easier—?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean, about talking things over—arrangements. There are + arrangements to be made, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so.” He hesitated. “I’m doing what I’m told—simply following + out instructions. The business is easy enough, apparently. I’m taking the + necessary steps—” + </p> + <p> + She reddened a little, and drew a gasping breath. “The necessary steps: + what are they? Everything the lawyers tell one is so confusing.... I don’t + yet understand—how it’s done.” + </p> + <p> + “My share, you mean? Oh, it’s very simple.” He paused, and added in a tone + of laboured ease: “I’m going down to Fontainebleau to-morrow—” + </p> + <p> + She stared, not understanding. “To Fontainebleau—?” + </p> + <p> + Her bewilderment drew from him his first frank smile. “Well—I chose + Fontainebleau—I don’t know why... except that we’ve never been there + together.” + </p> + <p> + At that she suddenly understood, and the blood rushed to her forehead. She + stood up without knowing what she was doing, her heart in her throat. “How + grotesque—how utterly disgusting!” + </p> + <p> + He gave a slight shrug. “I didn’t make the laws....” + </p> + <p> + “But isn’t it too stupid and degrading that such things should be + necessary when two people want to part—?” She broke off again, + silenced by the echo of that fatal “want to part.”... + </p> + <p> + He seemed to prefer not to dwell farther on the legal obligations + involved. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t yet told me,” he suggested, “how you happen to be living + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Here—with the Fulmer children?” She roused herself, trying to catch + his easier note. “Oh, I’ve simply been governessing them for a few weeks, + while Nat and Grace are in Sicily.” She did not say: “It’s because I’ve + parted with Strefford.” Somehow it helped her wounded pride a little to + keep from him the secret of her precarious independence. + </p> + <p> + He looked his wonder. “All alone with that bewildered bonne? But how many + of them are there? Five? Good Lord!” He contemplated the clock with + unseeing eyes, and then turned them again on her face. + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought a lot of children would rather get on your nerves.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not these children. They’re so good to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well, I suppose it won’t be for long.” + </p> + <p> + He sent his eyes again about the room, which his absent-minded gaze seemed + to reduce to its dismal constituent elements, and added, with an obvious + effort at small talk: “I hear the Fulmers are not hitting it off very well + since his success. Is it true that he’s going to marry Violet Melrose?” + </p> + <p> + The blood rose to Susy’s face. “Oh, never, never! He and Grace are + travelling together now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn’t know. People say things....” He was visibly embarrassed with + the subject, and sorry that he had broached it. + </p> + <p> + “Some of the things that people say are true. But Grace doesn’t mind. She + says she and Nat belong to each other. They can’t help it, she thinks, + after having been through such a lot together.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear old Grace!” + </p> + <p> + He had risen from his chair, and this time she made no effort to detain + him. He seemed to have recovered his self-composure, and it struck her + painfully, humiliatingly almost, that he should have spoken in that light + way of the expedition to Fontainebleau on the morrow.... Well, men were + different, she supposed; she remembered having felt that once before about + Nick. + </p> + <p> + It was on the tip of her tongue to cry out: “But wait—wait! I’m not + going to marry Strefford after all!”—but to do so would seem like an + appeal to his compassion, to his indulgence; and that was not what she + wanted. She could never forget that he had left her because he had not + been able to forgive her for “managing”—and not for the world would + she have him think that this meeting had been planned for such a purpose. + </p> + <p> + “If he doesn’t see that I am different, in spite of appearances... and + that I never was what he said I was that day—if in all these months + it hasn’t come over him, what’s the use of trying to make him see it now?” + she mused. And then, her thoughts hurrying on: “Perhaps he’s suffering too—I + believe he is suffering—at any rate, he’s suffering for me, if not for + himself. But if he’s pledged to Coral, what can he do? What would he think + of me if I tried to make him break his word to her?” + </p> + <p> + There he stood—the man who was “going to Fontainebleau to-morrow”; + who called it “taking the necessary steps!” Who could smile as he made the + careless statement! A world seemed to divide them already: it was as if + their parting were already over. All the words, cries, arguments beating + loud wings in her dropped back into silence. The only thought left was: + “How much longer does he mean to go on standing there?” + </p> + <p> + He may have read the question in her face, for turning back from an + absorbed contemplation of the window curtains he said: “There’s nothing + else?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing else?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean: you spoke of things to be settled—” + </p> + <p> + She flushed, suddenly remembering the pretext she had used to summon him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she faltered, “I didn’t know... I thought there might be.... But the + lawyers, I suppose....” + </p> + <p> + She saw the relief on his contracted face. “Exactly. I’ve always thought + it was best to leave it to them. I assure you”—again for a moment + the smile strained his lips—“I shall do nothing to interfere with a + quick settlement.” + </p> + <p> + She stood motionless, feeling herself turn to stone. He appeared already a + long way off, like a figure vanishing down a remote perspective. + </p> + <p> + “Then—good-bye,” she heard him say from its farther end. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,—good-bye,” she faltered, as if she had not had the word ready, + and was relieved to have him supply it. + </p> + <p> + He stopped again on the threshold, looked back at her, began to speak. + “I’ve—” he said; then he repeated “Good-bye,” as though to make sure + he had not forgotten to say it; and the door closed on him. + </p> + <p> + It was over; she had had her last chance and missed it. Now, whatever + happened, the one thing she had lived and longed for would never be. He + had come, and she had let him go again.... + </p> + <p> + How had it come about? Would she ever be able to explain it to herself? + How was it that she, so fertile in strategy, so practiced in feminine + arts, had stood there before him, helpless, inarticulate, like a + school-girl a-choke with her first love-longing? If he was gone, and gone + never to return, it was her own fault, and none but hers. What had she + done to move him, detain him, make his heart beat and his head swim as + hers were beating and swimming? She stood aghast at her own inadequacy, + her stony inexpressiveness.... + </p> + <p> + And suddenly she lifted her hands to her throbbing forehead and cried out: + “But this is love! This must be love!” + </p> + <p> + She had loved him before, she supposed; for what else was she to call the + impulse that had drawn her to him, taught her how to overcome his + scruples, and whirled him away with her on their mad adventure? Well, if + that was love, this was something so much larger and deeper that the other + feeling seemed the mere dancing of her blood in tune with his.... + </p> + <p> + But, no! Real love, great love, the love that poets sang, and privileged + and tortured beings lived and died of, that love had its own superior + expressiveness, and the sure command of its means. The petty arts of + coquetry were no farther from it than the numbness of the untaught girl. + Great love was wise, strong, powerful, like genius, like any other + dominant form of human power. It knew itself, and what it wanted, and how + to attain its ends. + </p> + <p> + Not great love, then... but just the common humble average of human love + was hers. And it had come to her so newly, so overwhelmingly, with a face + so grave, a touch so startling, that she had stood there petrified, + humbled at the first look of its eyes, recognizing that what she had once + taken for love was merely pleasure and spring-time, and the flavour of + youth. + </p> + <p> + “But how was I to know? And now it’s too late!” she wailed. + </p> + + +<h3>XXIX.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">The</span> inhabitants of the little house in Passy were of necessity early + risers; but when Susy jumped out of bed the next morning no one else was + astir, and it lacked nearly an hour of the call of the bonne’s + alarm-clock. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Susy leaned out of her dark room into the darker night. A + cold drizzle fell on her face, and she shivered and drew back. Then, + lighting a candle, and shading it, as her habit was, from the sleeping + child, she slipped on her dressing-gown and opened the door. On the + threshold she paused to look at her watch. Only half-past five! She + thought with compunction of the unkindness of breaking in on Junie + Fulmer’s slumbers; but such scruples did not weigh an ounce in the balance + of her purpose. Poor Junie would have to oversleep herself on Sunday, that + was all. + </p> + <p> + Susy stole into the passage, opened a door, and cast her light on the + girl’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Junie! Dearest Junie, you must wake up!” + </p> + <p> + Junie lay in the abandonment of youthful sleep; but at the sound of her + name she sat up with the promptness of a grown person on whom domestic + burdens have long weighed. + </p> + <p> + “Which one of them is it?” she asked, one foot already out of bed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Junie dear, no... it’s nothing wrong with the children... or with + anybody,” Susy stammered, on her knees by the bed. + </p> + <p> + In the candlelight, she saw Junie’s anxious brow darken reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Susy, then why—? I was just dreaming we were all driving about + Rome in a great big motor-car with father and mother!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry, dear. What a lovely dream! I’m a brute to have interrupted + it—” + </p> + <p> + She felt the little girl’s awakening scrutiny. “If there’s nothing wrong + with anybody, why are you crying, Susy? Is it you there’s something wrong + with? What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I crying?” Susy rose from her knees and sat down on the counterpane. + “Yes, it is me. And I had to disturb you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Susy, darling, what is it?” Junie’s arms were about her in a flash, + and Susy grasped them in burning fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Junie, listen! I’ve got to go away at once—to leave you all for the + whole day. I may not be back till late this evening; late to-night; I + can’t tell. I promised your mother I’d never leave you; but I’ve got to—I’ve + got to.” + </p> + <p> + Junie considered her agitated face with fully awakened eyes. “Oh, I won’t + tell, you know, you old brick,” she said with simplicity. + </p> + <p> + Susy hugged her. “Junie, Junie, you darling! But that wasn’t what I meant. + Of course you may tell—you must tell. I shall write to your mother + myself. But what worries me is the idea of having to go away—away + from Paris—for the whole day, with Geordie still coughing a little, + and no one but that silly Angele to stay with him while you’re out—and + no one but you to take yourself and the others to school. But Junie, + Junie, I’ve got to do it!” she sobbed out, clutching the child tighter. + </p> + <p> + Junie Fulmer, with her strangely mature perception of the case, and + seemingly of every case that fate might call on her to deal with, sat for + a moment motionless in Susy’s hold. Then she freed her wrists with an + adroit twist, and leaning back against the pillows said judiciously: + “You’ll never in the world bring up a family of your own if you take on + like this over other people’s children.” + </p> + <p> + Through all her turmoil of spirit the observation drew a laugh from Susy. + “Oh, a family of my own—I don’t deserve one, the way I’m behaving to + your—” + </p> + <p> + Junie still considered her. “My dear, a change will do you good: you need + it,” she pronounced. + </p> + <p> + Susy rose with a laughing sigh. “I’m not at all sure it will! But I’ve got + to have it, all the same. Only I do feel anxious—and I can’t even + leave you my address!” + </p> + <p> + Junie still seemed to examine the case. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t you even tell me where you’re going?” she ventured, as if not quite + sure of the delicacy of asking. + </p> + <p> + “Well—no, I don’t think I can; not till I get back. Besides, even if + I could it wouldn’t be much use, because I couldn’t give you my address + there. I don’t know what it will be.” + </p> + <p> + “But what does it matter, if you’re coming back to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I’m coming back! How could you possibly imagine I should think + of leaving you for more than a day?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shouldn’t be afraid—not much, that is, with the poker, and + Nat’s water-pistol,” emended Junie, still judicious. + </p> + <p> + Susy again enfolded her vehemently, and then turned to more practical + matters. She explained that she wished if possible to catch an + eight-thirty train from the Gare de Lyon, and that there was not a moment + to lose if the children were to be dressed and fed, and full instructions + written out for Junie and Angele, before she rushed for the underground. + </p> + <p> + While she bathed Geordie, and then hurried into her own clothes, she could + not help wondering at her own extreme solicitude for her charges. She + remembered, with a pang, how often she had deserted Clarissa Vanderlyn for + the whole day, and even for two or three in succession—poor little + Clarissa, whom she knew to be so unprotected, so exposed to evil + influences. She had been too much absorbed in her own greedy bliss to be + more than intermittently aware of the child; but now, she felt, no sorrow + however ravaging, no happiness however absorbing, would ever again isolate + her from her kind. + </p> + <p> + And then these children were so different! The exquisite Clarissa was + already the predestined victim of her surroundings: her budding soul was + divided from Susy’s by the same barrier of incomprehension that separated + the latter from Mrs. Vanderlyn. Clarissa had nothing to teach Susy but the + horror of her own hard little appetites; whereas the company of the noisy + argumentative Fulmers had been a school of wisdom and abnegation. + </p> + <p> + As she applied the brush to Geordie’s shining head and the handkerchief to + his snuffling nose, the sense of what she owed him was so borne in on Susy + that she interrupted the process to catch him to her bosom. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll have such a story to tell you when I get back to-night, if you’ll + promise me to be good all day,” she bargained with him; and Geordie, + always astute, bargained back: “Before I promise, I’d like to know what + story.” + </p> + <p> + At length all was in order. Junie had been enlightened, and Angele + stunned, by the minuteness of Susy’s instructions; and the latter, + waterproofed and stoutly shod, descended the doorstep, and paused to wave + at the pyramid of heads yearning to her from an upper window. + </p> + <p> + It was hardly light, and still raining, when she turned into the dismal + street. As usual, it was empty; but at the corner she perceived a + hesitating taxi, with luggage piled beside the driver. Perhaps it was some + early traveller, just arriving, who would release the carriage in time for + her to catch it, and thus avoid the walk to the metro, and the subsequent + strap-hanging; for it was the work-people’s hour. Susy raced toward the + vehicle, which, overcoming its hesitation, was beginning to move in her + direction. Observing this, she stopped to see where it would discharge its + load. Thereupon the taxi stopped also, and the load discharged itself in + front of her in the shape of Nick Lansing. + </p> + <p> + The two stood staring at each other through the rain till Nick broke out: + “Where are you going? I came to get you.” + </p> + <p> + “To get me? To get me?” she repeated. Beside the driver she had suddenly + remarked the old suit-case from which her husband had obliged her to + extract Strefford’s cigars as they were leaving Como; and everything that + had happened since seemed to fall away and vanish in the pang and rapture + of that memory. + </p> + <p> + “To get you; yes. Of course.” He spoke the words peremptorily, almost as + if they were an order. “Where were you going?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + Without answering, she turned toward the house. He followed her, and the + laden taxi closed the procession. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you out in such weather without an umbrella?” he continued, in + the same severe tone, drawing her under the shelter of his. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, because Junie’s umbrella is in tatters, and I had to leave her mine, + as I was going away for the whole day.” She spoke the words like a person + in a trance. + </p> + <p> + “For the whole day? At this hour? Where?” + </p> + <p> + They were on the doorstep, and she fumbled automatically for her key, let + herself in, and led the way to the sitting-room. It had not been tidied up + since the night before. The children’s school books lay scattered on the + table and sofa, and the empty fireplace was grey with ashes. She turned to + Nick in the pallid light. + </p> + <p> + “I was going to see you,” she stammered, “I was going to follow you to + Fontainebleau, if necessary, to tell you... to prevent you....” + </p> + <p> + He repeated in the same aggressive tone: “Tell me what? Prevent what?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell you that there must be some other way... some decent way... of our + separating... without that horror, that horror of your going off with a + woman....” + </p> + <p> + He stared, and then burst into a laugh. The blood rushed to her face. She + had caught a familiar ring in his laugh, and it wounded her. What business + had he, at such a time, to laugh in the old way? + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry; but there is no other way, I’m afraid. No other way but one,” + he corrected himself. + </p> + <p> + She raised her head sharply. “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “That you should be the woman.—Oh, my dear!” He had dropped his + mocking smile, and was at her side, her hands in his. “Oh, my dear, don’t + you see that we’ve both been feeling the same thing, and at the same hour? + You lay awake thinking of it all night, didn’t you? So did I. Whenever the + clock struck, I said to myself: ‘She’s hearing it too.’ And I was up + before daylight, and packed my traps—for I never want to set foot + again in that awful hotel where I’ve lived in hell for the last three + days. And I swore to myself that I’d go off with a woman by the first + train I could catch—and so I mean to, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + She stood before him numb. Yes, numb: that was the worst of it! The + violence of the reaction had been too great, and she could hardly + understand what he was saying. Instead, she noticed that the tassel of the + window-blind was torn off again (oh, those children!), and vaguely + wondered if his luggage were safe on the waiting taxi. One heard such + stories.... + </p> + <p> + His voice came back to her. “Susy! Listen!” he was entreating. “You must + see yourself that it can’t be. We’re married—isn’t that all that + matters? Oh, I know—I’ve behaved like a brute: a cursed arrogant + ass! You couldn’t wish that ass a worse kicking than I’ve given him! But + that’s not the point, you see. The point is that we’re married.... + Married.... Doesn’t it mean something to you, something—inexorable? + It does to me. I didn’t dream it would—in just that way. But all I + can say is that I suppose the people who don’t feel it aren’t really + married—and they’d better separate; much better. As for us—” + </p> + <p> + Through her tears she gasped out: “That’s what I felt... that’s what I + said to Streff....” + </p> + <p> + He was upon her with a great embrace. “My darling! My darling! You have + told him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she panted. “That’s why I’m living here.” She paused. “And you’ve + told Coral?” + </p> + <p> + She felt his embrace relax. He drew away a little, still holding her, but + with lowered head. + </p> + <p> + “No... I... haven’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nick! But then—?” + </p> + <p> + He caught her to him again, resentfully. “Well—then what? What do + you mean? What earthly difference does it make?” + </p> + <p> + “But if you’ve told her you were going to marry her—” (Try as she + would, her voice was full of silver chimes.) + </p> + <p> + “Marry her? Marry her?” he echoed. “But how could I? What does marriage + mean anyhow? If it means anything at all it means—you! And I can’t + ask Coral Hicks just to come and live with me, can I?” + </p> + <p> + Between crying and laughing she lay on his breast, and his hand passed + over her hair. + </p> + <p> + They were silent for a while; then he began again: “You said it yourself + yesterday, you know.” + </p> + <p> + She strayed back from sunlit distances. “Yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: that Grace Fulmer says you can’t separate two people who’ve been + through a lot of things—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, been through them together—it’s not the things, you see, it’s + the togetherness,” she interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “The togetherness—that’s it!” He seized on the word as if it had + just been coined to express their case, and his mind could rest in it + without farther labour. + </p> + <p> + The door-bell rang, and they started. Through the window they saw the + taxi-driver gesticulating enquiries as to the fate of the luggage. + </p> + <p> + “He wants to know if he’s to leave it here,” Susy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “No—no! You’re to come with me,” her husband declared. + </p> + <p> + “Come with you?” She laughed again at the absurdity of the suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Of course: this very instant. What did you suppose? That I was going away + without you? Run up and pack your things,” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + “My things? My things? But I can’t leave the children!” + </p> + <p> + He stared, between indignation and amusement. “Can’t leave the children? + Nonsense! Why, you said yourself you were going to follow me to + Fontainebleau—” + </p> + <p> + She reddened again, this time a little painfully “I didn’t know what I was + doing.... I had to find you... but I should have come back this evening, + no matter what happened.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter what?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, and met his gaze resolutely. + </p> + <p> + “No; but really—” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I can’t leave the children till Nat and Grace come back. I + promised I wouldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but you didn’t know then.... Why on earth can’t their nurse look + after them?” + </p> + <p> + “There isn’t any nurse but me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “But it’s only for two weeks more,” she pleaded. “Two weeks! Do you know + how long I’ve been without you!” He seized her by both wrists, and drew + them against his breast. “Come with me at least for two days—Susy!” + he entreated her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she cried, “that’s the very first time you’ve said my name!” + </p> + <p> + “Susy, Susy, then—my Susy—Susy! And you’ve only said mine + once, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Nick!” she sighed, at peace, as if the one syllable were a magic seed + that hung out great branches to envelop them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Susy, be reasonable. Come!” + </p> + <p> + “Reasonable—oh, reasonable!” she sobbed through laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Unreasonable, then! That’s even better.” + </p> + <p> + She freed herself, and drew back gently. “Nick, I swore I wouldn’t leave + them; and I can’t. It’s not only my promise to their mother—it’s + what they’ve been to me themselves. You don’t, know... You can’t imagine + the things they’ve taught me. They’re awfully naughty at times, because + they’re so clever; but when they’re good they’re the wisest people I + know.” She paused, and a sudden inspiration illuminated her. “But why + shouldn’t we take them with us?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Her husband’s arms fell away from her, and he stood dumfounded. + </p> + <p> + “Take them with us?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “All five of them?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course—I couldn’t possibly separate them. And Junie and Nat will + help us to look after the young ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Help us!” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’ll see; they won’t bother you. Just leave it to me; I’ll manage—” + The word stopped her short, and an agony of crimson suffused her from brow + to throat. Their eyes met; and without a word he stooped and laid his lips + gently on the stain of red on her neck. + </p> + <p> + “Nick,” she breathed, her hands in his. + </p> + <p> + “But those children—” + </p> + <p> + Instead of answering, she questioned: “Where are we going?” + </p> + <p> + His face lit up. + </p> + <p> + “Anywhere, dearest, that you choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—I choose Fontainebleau!” she exulted. + </p> + <p> + “So do I! But we can’t take all those children to an hotel at + Fontainebleau, can we?” he questioned weakly. “You see, dear, there’s the + mere expense of it—” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were already travelling far ahead of him. “The expense won’t + amount to much. I’ve just remembered that Angele, the bonne, has a sister + who is cook there in a nice old-fashioned pension which must be almost + empty at this time of year. I’m sure I can ma—arrange easily,” she + hurried on, nearly tripping again over the fatal word. “And just think of + the treat it will be to them! This is Friday, and I can get them let off + from their afternoon classes, and keep them in the country till Monday. + Poor darlings, they haven’t been out of Paris for months! And I daresay + the change will cure Geordie’s cough—Geordie’s the youngest,” she + explained, surprised to find herself, even in the rapture of reunion, so + absorbed in the welfare of the Fulmers. + </p> + <p> + She was conscious that her husband was surprised also; but instead of + prolonging the argument he simply questioned: “Was Geordie the chap you + had in your arms when you opened the front door the night before last?” + </p> + <p> + She echoed: “I opened the front door the night before last?” + </p> + <p> + “To a boy with a parcel.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she sobbed, “you were there? You were watching?” + </p> + <p> + He held her to him, and the currents flowed between them warm and full as + on the night of their moon over Como. + </p> + <p> + In a trice, after that, she had the matter in hand and her forces + marshalled. The taxi was paid, Nick’s luggage deposited in the vestibule, + and the children, just piling down to breakfast, were summoned in to hear + the news. + </p> + <p> + It was apparent that, seasoned to surprises as they were, Nick’s presence + took them aback. But when, between laughter and embraces, his identity, + and his right to be where he was, had been made clear to them, Junie + dismissed the matter by asking him in her practical way: “Then I suppose + we may talk about you to Susy now?”—and thereafter all five + addressed themselves to the vision of their imminent holiday. + </p> + <p> + From that moment the little house became the centre of a whirlwind. Treats + so unforeseen, and of such magnitude, were rare in the young Fulmers’ + experience, and had it not been for Junie’s steadying influence Susy’s + charges would have got out of hand. But young Nat, appealed to by Nick on + the ground of their common manhood, was induced to forego celebrating the + event on his motor horn (the very same which had tortured the New + Hampshire echoes), and to assert his authority over his juniors; and + finally a plan began to emerge from the chaos, and each child to fit into + it like a bit of a picture puzzle. + </p> + <p> + Susy, riding the whirlwind with her usual firmness, nevertheless felt an + undercurrent of anxiety. There had been no time as yet, between her and + Nick, to revert to money matters; and where there was so little money it + could not, obviously, much matter. But that was the more reason for being + secretly aghast at her intrepid resolve not to separate herself from her + charges. A three days’ honey-moon with five children in the party—and + children with the Fulmer appetite—could not but be a costly + business; and while she settled details, packed them off to school, and + routed out such nondescript receptacles as the house contained in the way + of luggage, her thoughts remained fixed on the familiar financial problem. + </p> + <p> + Yes—it was cruel to have it rear its hated head, even through the + bursting boughs of her new spring; but there it was, the perpetual serpent + in her Eden, to be bribed, fed, sent to sleep with such scraps as she + could beg, borrow or steal for it. And she supposed it was the price that + fate meant her to pay for her blessedness, and was surer than ever that + the blessedness was worth it. Only, how was she to compound the business + with her new principles? + </p> + <p> + With the children’s things to pack, luncheon to be got ready, and the + Fontainebleau pension to be telephoned to, there was little time to waste + on moral casuistry; and Susy asked herself with a certain irony if the + chronic lack of time to deal with money difficulties had not been the + chief cause of her previous lapses. There was no time to deal with this + question either; no time, in short, to do anything but rush forward on a + great gale of plans and preparations, in the course of which she whirled + Nick forth to buy some charcuterie for luncheon, and telephone to + Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + Once he was gone—and after watching him safely round the corner—she + too got into her wraps, and transferring a small packet from her + dressing-case to her pocket, hastened out in a different direction. + </p> + + +<h3>XXX.</h3> + + <p> + <span class="smcap">It</span> took two brimming taxi-cabs to carry the Nicholas Lansings to the + station on their second honey-moon. In the first were Nick, Susy and the + luggage of the whole party (little Nat’s motor horn included, as a last + concession, and because he had hitherto forborne to play on it); and in + the second, the five Fulmers, the bonne, who at the eleventh hour had + refused to be left, a cage-full of canaries, and a foundling kitten who + had murderous designs on them; all of which had to be taken because, if + the bonne came, there would be nobody left to look after them. + </p> + <p> + At the corner Susy tore herself from Nick’s arms and held up the + procession while she ran back to the second taxi to make sure that the + bonne had brought the house-key. It was found of course that she hadn’t + but that Junie had; whereupon the caravan got under way again, and reached + the station just as the train was starting; and there, by some miracle of + good nature on the part of the guard, they were all packed together into + an empty compartment—no doubt, as Susy remarked, because train + officials never failed to spot a newly-married couple, and treat them + kindly. + </p> + <p> + The children, sentinelled by Junie, at first gave promise of superhuman + goodness; but presently their feelings overflowed, and they were not to be + quieted till it had been agreed that Nat should blow his motor-horn at + each halt, while the twins called out the names of the stations, and + Geordie, with the canaries and kitten, affected to change trains. + </p> + <p> + Luckily the halts were few; but the excitement of travel, combined with + over-indulgence in the chocolates imprudently provided by Nick, + overwhelmed Geordie with a sudden melancholy that could be appeased only + by Susy’s telling him stories till they arrived at Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + The day was soft, with mild gleams of sunlight on decaying foliage; and + after luggage and livestock had been dropped at the pension Susy confessed + that she had promised the children a scamper in the forest, and buns in a + tea-shop afterward. Nick placidly agreed, and darkness had long fallen, + and a great many buns been consumed, when at length the procession turned + down the street toward the pension, headed by Nick with the sleeping + Geordie on his shoulder, while the others, speechless with fatigue and + food, hung heavily on Susy. + </p> + <p> + It had been decided that, as the bonne was of the party, the children + might be entrusted to her for the night, and Nick and Susy establish + themselves in an adjacent hotel. Nick had flattered himself that they + might remove their possessions there when they returned from the tea-room; + but Susy, manifestly surprised at the idea, reminded him that her charges + must first be given their supper and put to bed. She suggested that he + should meanwhile take the bags to the hotel, and promised to join him as + soon as Geordie was asleep. + </p> + <p> + She was a long time coming, but waiting for her was sweet, even in a + deserted hotel reading-room insufficiently heated by a sulky stove; and + after he had glanced through his morning’s mail, hurriedly thrust into his + pocket as he left Paris, he sank into a state of drowsy beatitude. It was + all the maddest business in the world, yet it did not give him the sense + of unreality that had made their first adventure a mere golden dream; and + he sat and waited with the security of one in whom dear habits have struck + deep roots. In this mood of acquiescence even the presence of the five + Fulmers seemed a natural and necessary consequence of all the rest; and + when Susy at length appeared, a little pale and tired, with the brooding + inward look that busy mothers bring from the nursery, that too seemed + natural and necessary, and part of the new order of things. + </p> + <p> + They had wandered out to a cheap restaurant for dinner; now, in the damp + December night, they were walking back to the hotel under a sky full of + rain-clouds. They seemed to have said everything to each other, and yet + barely to have begun what they had to tell; and at each step they took, + their heavy feet dragged a great load of bliss. + </p> + <p> + In the hotel almost all the lights were already out; and they groped their + way to the third floor room which was the only one that Susy had found + cheap enough. A ray from a street-lamp struck up through the unshuttered + windows; and after Nick had revived the fire they drew their chairs close + to it, and sat quietly for a while in the dark. + </p> + <p> + Their silence was so sweet that Nick could not make up his mind to break + it; not to do so gave his tossing spirit such a sense of permanence, of + having at last unlimited time before him in which to taste his joy and let + its sweetness stream through him. But at length he roused himself to say: + “It’s queer how things coincide. I’ve had a little bit of good news in one + of the letters I got this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Susy took the announcement serenely. “Well, you would, you know,” she + commented, as if the day had been too obviously designed for bliss to + escape the notice of its dispensers. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he continued with a thrill of pardonable pride. “During the cruise + I did a couple of articles on Crete—oh, just travel-impressions, of + course; they couldn’t be more. But the editor of the New Review has + accepted them, and asks for others. And here’s his cheque, if you please! + So you see you might have let me take the jolly room downstairs with the + pink curtains. And it makes me awfully hopeful about my book.” + </p> + <p> + He had expected a rapturous outburst, and perhaps some reassertion of + wifely faith in the glorious future that awaited The Pageant of Alexander; + and deep down under the lover’s well-being the author felt a faint twinge + of mortified vanity when Susy, leaping to her feet, cried out, ravenously + and without preamble: “Oh, Nick, Nick—let me see how much they’ve + given you!” + </p> + <p> + He flourished the cheque before her in the firelight. “A couple of + hundred, you mercenary wretch!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh—” she gasped, as if the good news had been almost too much + for her tense nerves; and then surprised him by dropping to the ground, + and burying her face against his knees. + </p> + <p> + “Susy, my Susy,” he whispered, his hand on her shaking shoulder. “Why, + dear, what is it? You’re not crying?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nick, Nick—two hundred? Two hundred dollars? Then I’ve got to + tell you—oh now, at once!” + </p> + <p> + A faint chill ran over him, and involuntarily his hand drew back from her + bowed figure. + </p> + <p> + “Now? Oh, why now?” he protested. “What on earth does it matter now—whatever + it is?” + </p> + <p> + “But it does matter—it matters more than you can think!” + </p> + <p> + She straightened herself, still kneeling before him, and lifted her head + so that the firelight behind her turned her hair into a ruddy halo. “Oh, + Nick, the bracelet—Ellie’s bracelet.... I’ve never returned it to + her,” she faltered out. + </p> + <p> + He felt himself recoiling under the hands with which she clutched his + knees. For an instant he did not remember what she alluded to; it was the + mere mention of Ellie Vanderlyn’s name that had fallen between them like + an icy shadow. What an incorrigible fool he had been to think they could + ever shake off such memories, or cease to be the slaves of such a past! + </p> + <p> + “The bracelet?—Oh, yes,” he said, suddenly understanding, and + feeling the chill mount slowly to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the bracelet... Oh, Nick, I meant to give it back at once; I did—I + did; but the day you went away I forgot everything else. And when I found + the thing, in the bottom of my bag, weeks afterward, I thought everything + was over between you and me, and I had begun to see Ellie again, and she + was kind to me and how could I?” To save his life he could have found no + answer, and she pressed on: “And so this morning, when I saw you were + frightened by the expense of bringing all the children with us, and when I + felt I couldn’t leave them, and couldn’t leave you either, I remembered + the bracelet; and I sent you off to telephone while I rushed round the + corner to a little jeweller’s where I’d been before, and pawned it so that + you shouldn’t have to pay for the children.... But now, darling, you see, + if you’ve got all that money, I can get it out of pawn at once, can’t I, + and send it back to her?” + </p> + <p> + She flung her arms about him, and he held her fast, wondering if the tears + he felt were hers or his. Still he did not speak; but as he clasped her + close she added, with an irrepressible flash of her old irony: “Not that + Ellie will understand why I’ve done it. She’s never yet been able to make + out why you returned her scarf-pin.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time she continued to lean against him, her head on his knees, + as she had done on the terrace of Como on the last night of their + honeymoon. She had ceased to talk, and he sat silent also, passing his + hand quietly to and fro over her hair. The first rapture had been + succeeded by soberer feelings. Her confession had broken up the frozen + pride about his heart, and humbled him to the earth; but it had also + roused forgotten things, memories and scruples swept aside in the first + rush of their reunion. He and she belonged to each other for always: he + understood that now. The impulse which had first drawn them together + again, in spite of reason, in spite of themselves almost, that deep-seated + instinctive need that each had of the other, would never again wholly let + them go. Yet as he sat there he thought of Strefford, he thought of Coral + Hicks. He had been a coward in regard to Coral, and Susy had been sincere + and courageous in regard to Strefford. Yet his mind dwelt on Coral with + tenderness, with compunction, with remorse; and he was almost sure that + Susy had already put Strefford utterly out of her mind. + </p> + <p> + It was the old contrast between the two ways of loving, the man’s way and + the woman’s; and after a moment it seemed to Nick natural enough that + Susy, from the very moment of finding him again, should feel neither pity + nor regret, and that Strefford should already be to her as if he had never + been. After all, there was something Providential in such arrangements. + </p> + <p> + He stooped closer, pressed her dreaming head between his hands, and + whispered: “Wake up; it’s bedtime.” + </p> + <p> + She rose; but as she moved away to turn on the light he caught her hand + and drew her to the window. They leaned on the sill in the darkness, and + through the clouds, from which a few drops were already falling, the moon, + labouring upward, swam into a space of sky, cast her troubled glory on + them, and was again hidden. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1263 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |