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diff --git a/1386-h/1386-h.htm b/1386-h/1386-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e08b41 --- /dev/null +++ b/1386-h/1386-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12536 @@ +<?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> + <title> + Lady Baltimore, by Owen Wister + </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%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1386 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + LADY BALTIMORE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Owen Wister + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + To + S. Weir Mitchell + With the Affection and Memories of All My Life + </pre> + <p> + To the Reader + </p> + <p> + You know the great text in Burns, I am sure, where he wishes he could see + himself as others see him. Well, here lies the hitch in many a work of + art: if its maker—poet, painter, or novelist—could but have + become its audience too, for a single day, before he launched it + irrevocably upon the uncertain ocean of publicity, how much better his + boat would often sail! How many little touches to the rigging he would + give, how many little drops of oil to the engines here and there, the need + of which he had never suspected, but for that trial trip! That’s where the + ship-builders and dramatists have the advantage over us others: they can + dock their productions and tinker at them. Even to the musician comes this + useful chance, and Schumann can reform the proclamation which opens his + B-flat Symphony. + </p> + <p> + Still, to publish a story in weekly numbers previously to its appearance + as a book does sometimes give to the watchful author an opportunity to + learn, before it is too late, where he has failed in clearness; and it + brings him also, through the mails, some few questions that are pleasant + and proper to answer when his story sets forth united upon its journey of + adventure among gentle readers. + </p> + <p> + How came my hero by his name? + </p> + <p> + If you will open a book more valuable than any I dare hope to write, and + more entertaining too, The Life of Paul Jones, by Mr. Buell, you will find + the real ancestor of this imaginary boy, and fall in love with John + Mayrant the First, as did his immortal captain of the Bon Homme Richard. + He came from South Carolina; and believing his seed and name were perished + there to-day, I gave him a descendant. I have learned that the name, until + recently, was in existence; I trust it will not seem taken in vain in + these pages. + </p> + <p> + Whence came such a person as Augustus? + </p> + <p> + Our happier cities produce many Augustuses, and may they long continue to + do so! If Augustus displeases any one, so much the worse for that one, not + for Augustus. To be sure, he doesn’t admire over heartily the parvenus of + steel or oil, whose too sudden money takes them to the divorce court; he + calls them the ‘yellow rich’; do you object to that? Nor does he think + that those Americans who prefer their pockets to their patriotism, are + good citizens. He says of such people that ‘eternal vigilance cannot watch + liberty and the ticker at the same time.’ Do you object to that? Why, the + young man would be perfect, did he but attend his primaries and vote more + regularly,—and who wants a perfect young man? + </p> + <p> + What would John Mayrant have done if Hortense had not challenged him as + she did? + </p> + <p> + I have never known, and I fear we might have had a tragedy. + </p> + <p> + Would the old ladies really have spoken to Augustus about the love + difficulties of John Mayrant? + </p> + <p> + I must plead guilty. The old ladies of Kings Port, like American + gentlefolk everywhere, keep family matters sacredly inside the family + circle. But you see, had they not told Augustus, how in the world could I + have told—however, I plead guilty. + </p> + <p> + Certain passages have been interpreted most surprisingly to signify a + feeling against the colored race, that is by no means mine. My only wish + regarding these people, to whom we owe an immeasurable responsibility, is + to see the best that is in them prevail. Discord over this seems on the + wane, and sane views gaining. The issue sits on all our shoulders, but + local variations call for a sliding scale of policy. So admirably + dispassionate a novel as The Elder Brother, by Mr. Jervey, forwards the + understanding of Northerners unfamiliar with the South, and also that + friendliness between the two places, which is retarded chiefly by tactless + newspapers. + </p> + <p> + Ah, tact should have been one of the cardinal virtues; and if I didn’t + possess a spice of it myself, I should here thank by name certain two + members of the St. Michael family of Kings Port for their patience with + this comedy, before ever it saw the light. Tact bids us away from many + pleasures; but it can never efface the memory of kindness. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>LADY BALTIMORE</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I: </a> A Word about My Aunt <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II: </a> I Vary My Lunch <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III: </a> Kings Port Talks <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV: </a> THE GIRL BEHIND THE + COUNTER—I <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V: </a> The + Boy of the Cake <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI: </a> In + the Churchyard <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII: </a> The + Girl Behind the Counter—II <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> + VIII: </a> Midsummer-Night’s Dream <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX: </a> Juno <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0011"> X: </a> High Walk and the Ladies <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XI: </a> Daddy Ben and His Seed + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XII: </a> From the + Bedside <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIII: </a> The + Girl Behind the Counter—III <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> + XIV: </a> The Replacers <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> + XV: </a> What She Came to See <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVI: </a> The Steel Wasp <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVII: </a> Doing the Handsome Thing + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVIII: </a> Again the + Replacers <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XIX: </a> Udolpho + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XX: </a> What She Wanted + Him For <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XXI: </a> Hortense’s + Cigarette Goes Out <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXII: </a> Behind + the Times <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIII: </a> Poor + Aunt Carola! <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIV: </a> Post + Scriptum <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + LADY BALTIMORE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I: A Word about My Aunt + </h2> + <p> + Like Adam, our first conspicuous ancestor, I must begin, and lay the blame + upon a woman; I am glad to recognize that I differ from the father of my + sex in no important particular, being as manlike as most of his sons. + Therefore it is the woman, my Aunt Carola, who must bear the whole + reproach of the folly which I shall forthwith confess to you, since she it + was who put it into my head; and, as it was only to make Eve happy that + her husband ever consented to eat the disastrous apple, so I, save to + please my relative, had never aspired to become a Selected Salic Scion. I + rejoice now that I did so, that I yielded to her temptation. Ours is a + wide country, and most of us know but our own corner of it, while, thanks + to my Aunt, I have been able to add another corner. This, among many other + enlightenments of navel and education, do I owe her; she stands on the + threshold of all that is to come; therefore I were lacking in deference + did I pass her and her Scions by without due mention,—employing no + English but such as fits a theme so stately. Although she never left the + threshold, nor went to Kings Port with me, nor saw the boy, or the girl, + or any part of what befell them, she knew quite well who the boy was. When + I wrote her about him, she remembered one of his grandmothers whom she had + visited during her own girlhood, long before the war, both in Kings Port + and at the family plantation; and this old memory led her to express a + kindly interest in him. How odd and far away that interest seems, now that + it has been turned to cold displeasure! + </p> + <p> + Some other day, perhaps, I may try to tell you much more than I can tell + you here about Aunt Carola and her Colonial Society—that apple which + Eve, in the form of my Aunt, held out to me. Never had I expected to feel + rise in me the appetite for this particular fruit, though I had known such + hunger to exist in some of my neighbors. Once a worthy dame of my town, at + whose dinner-table young men and maidens of fashion sit constantly, asked + me with much sentiment if I was aware that she was descended from + Boadicea. Why had she never (I asked her) revealed this to me before? And + upon her informing me that she had learned it only that very day, I + exclaimed that it was a great distance to have descended so suddenly. To + this, after a look at me, she assented, adding that she had the good news + from the office of The American Almanach de Gotha, Union Square, New York; + and she recommended that publication to me. There was but a slight fee to + pay, a matter of fifty dollars or upwards, and for this trifling sum you + were furnished with your rightful coat-of-arms and with papers clearly + tracing your family to the Druids, the Vestal Virgins, and all the best + people in the world. Therefore I felicitated the Boadicean lady upon the + illustrious progenitrix with whom the Almanach de Gotha had provided her + for so small a consideration, and observed that for myself I supposed I + should continue to rest content with the thought that in our enlightened + Republic every American was himself a sovereign. But that, said the lady, + after giving me another look, is so different from Boadicea! And to this I + perfectly agreed. Later I had the pleasure to hear in a roundabout way + that she had pronounced me one of the most agreeable young men in society, + though sophisticated. I have not cherished this against her; my gift of + humor puzzles many who can see only my refinement and my scrupulous + attention to dress. + </p> + <p> + Yes, indeed, I counted myself proof against all Boadiceas. But you have + noticed—have you not?—how, whenever a few people gather + together and style themselves something, and choose a president, and eight + or nine vice-presidents, and a secretary and a treasurer, and a committee + on elections, and then let it be known that almost nobody else is + qualified to belong to it, that there springs up immediately in hundreds + and thousands of breasts a fiery craving to get into that body? You may + try this experiment in science, law, medicine, art, letters, society, + farming, I care not what, but you will set the same craving afire in + doctors, academicians, and dog breeders all over the earth. Thus, when my + Aunt—the president, herself, mind you!—said to me one day that + she thought, if I proved my qualifications, my name might be favorably + considered by the Selected Salic Scions—I say no more; I blush, + though you cannot see me; when I am tempted, I seem to be human, after + all. + </p> + <p> + At first, to be sure, I met Aunt Carola’s suggestion in the way that I am + too ready to meet many of her remarks; for you must know she once, with + sincere simplicity and good-will, told my Uncle Andrew (her husband; she + is only my Aunt by marriage) that she had married beneath her; and she + seemed unprepared for his reception of this candid statement: Uncle Andrew + was unaffectedly merry over it. Ever since then all of us wait hopefully + every day for what she may do or say next. + </p> + <p> + She is from old New York, oldest New York; the family manor is still + habitable, near Cold Spring; she was, in her youth, handsome, I am assured + by those whose word I have always trusted; her appearance even to-day + causes people to turn and look; she is not tall in feet and inches—I + have to stoop considerably when she commands from me the familiarity of a + kiss; but in the quality which we call force, in moral stature, she must + be full eight feet high. When rebuking me, she can pronounce a single + word, my name, “Augustus!” in a tone that renders further remark needless; + and you should see her eye when she says of certain newcomers in our + society, “I don’t know them.” She can make her curtsy as appalling as a + natural law; she knows also how to “take umbrage,” which is something that + I never knew any one else to take outside of a book; she is a highly + pronounced Christian, holding all Unitarians wicked and all Methodists + vulgar; and once, when she was talking (as she does frequently) about King + James and the English religion and the English Bible, and I reminded her + that the Jews wrote it, she said with displeasure that she made no doubt + King James had—“well, seen to it that all foreign matter was + expunged”—I give you her own words. Unless you have moved in our + best American society (and by this I do not at all mean the lower classes + with dollars and no grandfathers, who live in palaces at Newport, and look + forward to every-thing and back to nothing, but those Americans with + grandfathers and no dollars, who live in boarding-houses, and look forward + to nothing and back to everything)—unless you have known this + haughty and improving milieu, you have never seen anything like my Aunt + Carola. Of course, with Uncle Andrew’s money, she does not live in a + boarding-house; and I shall finish this brief attempt to place her before + you by adding that she can be very kind, very loyal, very public-spirited, + and that I am truly attached to her. + </p> + <p> + “Upon your mother’s side of the family,” she said, “of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Me!” I did not have to feign amazement. + </p> + <p> + My Aunt was silent. “Me descended from a king?” + </p> + <p> + My Aunt nodded with an indulgent stateliness. “There seems to be the + possibility of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Royal blood in my veins, Aunt?” + </p> + <p> + “I have said so, Augustus. Why make me repeat it?” + </p> + <p> + It was now, I fear, that I met Aunt Carola in that unfitting spirit, that + volatile mood, which, as I have said already, her remarks often rouse in + me. + </p> + <p> + “And from what sovereign may I hope that I—?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will consult a recent admirable compilation, entitled The American + Almanach de Gotha, you will find that Henry the Seventh—” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt, I am so much relieved! For I think that I might have hesitated to + trace it back had you said—well—Charles the Second, for + example, or Elizabeth.” + </p> + <p> + At this point I should have been wise to notice my Aunt’s eye; but I did + not, and I continued imprudently:— + </p> + <p> + “Though why hesitate? I have never heard that there was anybody present to + marry Adam and Eve, and so why should we all make such a to-do about—” + </p> + <p> + “Augustus!” + </p> + <p> + She uttered my name in that quiet but prodigious tone to which I have + alluded above. + </p> + <p> + It was I who was now silent. + </p> + <p> + “Augustus, if you purpose trifling, you may leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Aunt, I beg your pardon. I never meant—” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand what impels you to adopt such a manner to me, when I + am trying to do something for you.” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to strengthen my apologies with a manner becoming the possible + descendant of a king toward a lady of distinction, and my Aunt was pleased + to pass over my recent lapse from respect. She now broached her favorite + topic, which I need scarcely tell you is genealogy, beginning with her + own. + </p> + <p> + “If your title to royal blood,” she said, “were as plain as mine (through + Admiral Bombo, you know), you would not need any careful research.” + </p> + <p> + She told me a great deal of genealogy, which I spare you; it was not one + family tree, it was a forest of them. It gradually appeared that a + grandmother of my mother’s grandfather had been a Fanning, and there were + sundry kinds of Fannings, right ones and wrong ones; the point for me was, + what kind had mine been? No family record showed this. If it was Fanning + of the Bon Homme Richard variety, or Fanning of the Alamance, then I was + no king’s descendant. + </p> + <p> + “Worthy New England people, I understand,” said my Aunt with her nod of + indulgent stateliness, referring to the Bon Homme Richard species, “but of + entirely bourgeois extraction—Paul Jones himself, you know, was a + mere gardener’s son—while the Alamance Fanning was one of those + infamous regulators who opposed Governor Tryon. Not through any such + cattle could you be one of us,” said my Aunt. + </p> + <p> + But a dim, distant, hitherto uncharted Henry Tudor Fanning had fought in + some of the early Indian wars, and the last of his known blood was + reported to have fallen while fighting bravely at the battle of Cowpens. + In him my hope lay. Records of Tarleton, records of Marion’s men, these + were what I must search, and for these I had best go to Kings Port. If I + returned with Kinship proven, then I might be a Selected Salic Scion, a + chosen vessel, a royal seed, one in the most exalted circle of men and + women upon our coasts. The other qualifications were already mine: + ancestors colonial and bellicose upon land and sea— + </p> + <p> + “—besides having acquired,” my Aunt was so good as to say, + “sufficient personal presentability since your life in Paris, of which I + had rather not know too much, Augustus. It is a pity,” she repeated, “that + you will have so much research. With my family it was all so + satisfactorily clear through Kill-devil Bombo—Admiral Bombo’s + spirited, reckless son.” + </p> + <p> + You will readily conceive that I did not venture to betray my ignorance of + these Bombos; I worked my eyebrows to express a silent and timeworn + familiarity. + </p> + <p> + “Go to Kings Port. You need a holiday, at any rate. And I,” my Aunt + handsomely finished, “will make the journey a present to you.” + </p> + <p> + This generosity made me at once, and sincerely, repentant for my flippancy + concerning Charles the Second and Elizabeth. And so, partly from being + tempted by this apple of Eve, and partly because recent overwork had tired + me, but chiefly for her sake, and not to thwart at the outset her + kindly-meant ambitions for me, I kissed the hand of my Aunt Carola and set + forth to Kings Port. + </p> + <p> + “Come back one of us,” was her parting benediction. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II: I Vary My Lunch + </h2> + <p> + Thus it was that I came to sojourn in the most appealing, the most lovely, + the most wistful town in America; whose visible sadness and distinction + seem also to speak audibly, speak in the sound of the quiet waves that + ripple round her Southern front, speak in the church-bells on Sunday + morning, and breathe not only in the soft salt air, but in the perfume of + every gentle, old-fashioned rose that blooms behind the high garden walls + of falling mellow-tinted plaster: Kings Port the retrospective, Kings Port + the belated, who from her pensive porticoes looks over her two rivers to + the marshes and the trees beyond, the live-oaks, veiled in gray moss, + brooding with memories! Were she my city, how I should love her! + </p> + <p> + But though my city she cannot be, the enchanting image of her is mine to + keep, to carry with me wheresoever I may go; for who, having seen her, + could forget her? Therefore I thank Aunt Carola for this gift, and for + what must always go with it in my mind, the quiet and strange romance + which I saw happen, and came finally to share in. Why it is that my Aunt + no longer wishes to know either the boy or the girl, or even to hear their + names mentioned, you shall learn at the end, when I have finished with the + wedding; for this happy story of love ends with a wedding, and begins in + the Woman’s Exchange, which the ladies of Kings Port have established, and + (I trust) lucratively conduct, in Royal Street. + </p> + <p> + Royal Street! There’s a relevance in this name, a fitness to my errand; + but that is pure accident. + </p> + <p> + The Woman’s Exchange happened to be there, a decorous resort for those who + became hungry, as I did, at the hour of noon each day. In my very pleasant + boarding-house, where, to be sure, there was one dreadful boarder, a tall + lady, whom I soon secretly called Juno—but let unpleasant things + wait—in the very pleasant house where I boarded (I had left my hotel + after one night) our breakfast was at eight, and our dinner not until + three: sacred meal hours in Kings Port, as inviolable, I fancy, as the + Declaration of Independence, but a gap quite beyond the stretch of my + Northern vitals. Therefore, at twelve, it was my habit to leave my Fanning + researches for a while, and lunch at the Exchange upon chocolate and + sandwiches most delicate in savor. As, one day, I was luxuriously biting + one of these, I heard his voice and what he was saying. Both the voice and + the interesting order he was giving caused me, at my small table, in the + dim back of the room, to stop and watch him where he stood in the light at + the counter to the right of the entrance door. Young he was, very young, + twenty-two or three at the most, and as he stood, with hat in hand, + speaking to the pretty girl behind the counter, his head and side-face + were of a romantic and high-strung look. It was a cake that he desired + made, a cake for a wedding; and I directly found myself curious to know + whose wedding. Even a dull wedding interests me more than other dull + events, because it can arouse so much surmise and so much prophecy; but in + this wedding I instantly, because of his strange and winning + embarrassment, became quite absorbed. How came it he was ordering the cake + for it? Blushing like the boy that he was entirely, he spoke in a most + engaging voice: “No, not charged; and as you don’t know me, I had better + pay for it now.” + </p> + <p> + Self-possession in his speech he almost had; but the blood in his cheeks + and forehead was beyond his control. + </p> + <p> + A reply came from behind the counter: “We don’t expect payment until + delivery.” + </p> + <p> + “But—a—but on that morning I shall be rather particularly + engaged.” His tones sank almost away on these words. + </p> + <p> + “We should prefer to wait, then. You will leave your address. In + half-pound boxes, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Boxes? Oh, yes—I hadn’t thought—no—just a big, round + one. Like this, you know!” His arms embraced a circular space of air. + “With plenty of icing.” + </p> + <p> + I do not think that there was any smile on the other side of the counter; + there was, at any rate, no hint of one in the voice. “And how many + pounds?” + </p> + <p> + He was again staggered. “Why—a—I never ordered one before. I + want plenty—and the very best, the very best. Each person would eat + a pound, wouldn’t they? Or would two be nearer? I think I had better leave + it all to you. About like this, you know.” Once more his arms embraced a + circular space of air. + </p> + <p> + Before this I had never heard the young lady behind the counter enter into + any conversation with a customer. She would talk at length about all sorts + of Kings Port affairs with the older ladies connected with the Exchange, + who were frequently to be found there; but with a customer, never. She + always took my orders, and my money, and served me, with a silence and a + propriety that have become, with ordinary shopkeepers, a lost art. They + talk to one indeed! But this slim girl was a lady, and consequently did + the right thing, marking and keeping a distance between herself and the + public. To-day, however, she evidently felt it her official duty to guide + the hapless young, man amid his errors. He now appeared to be committing a + grave one. + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure you want that?” the girl was asking. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Baltimore? Yes, that is what I want.” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” she began to explain, then hesitated, and looked at him. + Perhaps it was in his face; perhaps it was that she remembered at this + point the serious difference between the price of Lady Baltimore (by my + small bill-of-fare I was now made acquainted with its price) and the cost + of that rich article which convention has prescribed as the cake for + weddings; at any rate, swift, sudden delicacy of feeling prevented her + explaining any more to him, for she saw how it was: his means were too + humble for the approved kind of wedding cake! She was too young, too + unskilled yet in the world’s ways, to rise above her embarrassment; and so + she stood blushing at him behind the counter, while he stood blushing at + her in front of it. + </p> + <p> + At length he succeeded in speaking. “That’s all, I believe. Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + At his hastily departing back she, too, murmured: “Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + Before I knew it I had screamed out loudly from my table: “But he hasn’t + told you the day he wants it for!” + </p> + <p> + Before she knew it she had flown to the door—my cry had set her + going, as if I had touched a spring—and there he was at the door + himself, rushing back. He, too, had remembered. It was almost a collision, + and nothing but their good Southern breeding, the way they took it, saved + it from being like a rowdy farce. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he said simply and immediately. “I am sorry to be so careless. + It’s for the twenty-seventh.” + </p> + <p> + She was writing it down in the order-book. “Very well. That is Wednesday + of next week. You have given us more time than we need.” She put complete, + impersonal business into her tone; and this time he marched off in good + order, leaving peace in the Woman’s Exchange. + </p> + <p> + No, not peace; quiet, merely; the girl at the counter now proceeded to + grow indignant with me. We were alone together, we two; no young man, or + any other business, occupied her or protected me. But if you suppose that + she made war, or expressed rage by speaking, that is not it at all. From + her counter in front to my table at the back she made her displeasure + felt; she was inaudibly crushing; she did not do it even with her eye, she + managed it—well, with her neck, somehow, and by the way she made her + nose look in profile. Aunt Carola would have embraced her—and I + should have liked to do so myself. She could not stand the idea of my + having, after all these days of official reserve that she had placed + between us, startled her into that rush to the door annihilated her + dignity at a blow. So did I finish my sandwiches beneath her invisible but + eloquent fire. What affair of mine was the cake? And what sort of + impertinent, meddlesome person was I, shrieking out my suggestions to + people with whom I had no acquaintance? These were the things that her + nose and her neck said to me the whole length of the Exchange. I had + nothing but my own weakness to thank; it was my interest in weddings that + did it, made me forget my decorum, the public place, myself, everything, + and plunge in. And I became more and more delighted over it as the girl + continued to crush me. My day had been dull, my researches had not brought + me a whit nearer royal blood; I looked at my little bill-of-fare, and then + I stepped forward to the counter, adventurous, but polite. + </p> + <p> + “I should like a slice, if you please, of Lady Baltimore,” I said with + extreme formality. + </p> + <p> + I thought she was going to burst; but after an interesting second she + replied, “Certainly,” in her fit Regular Exchange tone; only, I thought it + trembled a little. + </p> + <p> + I returned to the table and she brought me the cake, and I had my first + felicitous meeting with Lady Baltimore. Oh, my goodness! Did you ever + taste it? It’s all soft, and it’s in layers, and it has nuts—but I + can’t write any more about it; my mouth waters too much. + </p> + <p> + Delighted surprise caused me once more to speak aloud, and with my mouth + full. “But, dear me, this Is delicious!” + </p> + <p> + A choking ripple of laughter came from the counter. “It’s I who make + them,” said the girl. “I thank you for the unintentional compliment.” Then + she walked straight back to my table. “I can’t help it,” she said, + laughing still, and her delightful, insolent nose well up; “how can I + behave myself when a man goes on as you do?” A nice white curly dog + followed her, and she stroked his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Your behavior is very agreeable to me,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll allow me to say that you’re not invited to criticise it. I was + decidedly put out with you for making me ridiculous. But you have admired + my cake with such enthusiasm that you are forgiven. And—may I hope + that you are getting on famously with the battle of Cowpens?” + </p> + <p> + I stared. “I’m frankly very much astonished that you should know about + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’re just known all about in Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + I wish that our miserable alphabet could in some way render the soft + Southern accent which she gave to her words. But it cannot. I could easily + misspell, if I chose; but how, even then, could I, for instance, make you + hear her way of saying “about”? “Aboot” would magnify it; and besides, I + decline to make ugly to the eye her quite special English, that was so + charming to the ear. + </p> + <p> + “Kings Port just knows all about you,” she repeated with a sweet and + mocking laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mind telling me how?” + </p> + <p> + She explained at once. “This place is death to all incognitos.” + </p> + <p> + The explanation, however, did not, on the instant, enlighten me. “This? + The Woman’s Exchange, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure! Have you not heard ladies talking together here?” + </p> + <p> + I blankly repealed her words. “Ladies talking?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I cried. “How dull of me! Ladies talking! Of course!” + </p> + <p> + She continued. “It was therefore widely known that you were consulting our + South Carolina archives at the library—and then that notebook you + bring marked you out the very first day. Why, two hours after your first + lunch we just knew all about you!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Kings Port is ever ready to discuss strangers,” she further explained. + “The Exchange has been going on five years, and the resident families have + discussed each other so thoroughly here that everything is known; + therefore a stranger is a perfect boon.” Her gayety for a moment + interrupted her, before she continued, always mocking and always sweet: + “Kings Port cannot boast intelligence offices for servants; but if you + want to know the character and occupation of your friends, come to the + Exchange!” How I wish I could give you the raciness, the contagion, of her + laughter! Who would have dreamed that behind her primness all this frolic + lay in ambush? “Why,” she said, “I’m only a plantation girl; it’s my first + week here, and I know every wicked deed everybody as done since 1812!” + </p> + <p> + She went back to her counter. It had been very merry; and as I was + settling the small debt for my lunch I asked: “Since this is the proper + place for information, will you kindly tell me whose wedding that cake is + for?” + </p> + <p> + She was astonished. “You don’t know? And I thought you were quite a clever + Ya—I beg your pardon—Northerner. + </p> + <p> + “Please tell me, since I know you’re quite a clever Reb—I beg your + pardon—Southerner.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it’s his own! Couldn’t you see that from his bashfulness?” + </p> + <p> + “Ordering his own wedding cake?” Amazement held me. But the door opened, + one of the elderly ladies entered, the girl behind the counter stiffened + to primness in a flash, and I went out into Royal Street as the curly + dog’s tail wagged his greeting to the newcomer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III: Kings Port Talks + </h2> + <p> + Of course I had at once left the letters of introduction which Aunt Carola + had given me; but in my ignorance of Kings Port hours I had found + everybody at dinner when I made my first round of calls between half-past + three and five—an experience particularly regrettable, since I had + hurried my own dinner on purpose, not then aware that the hours at my + boarding-house were the custom of the whole town. (These hours even since + my visit to Kings Port, are beginning to change. But such backsliding is + much condemned.) Upon an afternoon some days later, having seen in the + extra looking-glass, which I had been obliged to provide for myself, that + the part in my back hair was perfect, I set forth again, better informed. + </p> + <p> + As I rang the first doorbell, another visitor came up the steps, a + beautiful old lady in widow’s dress, a cardcase in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Have you rung, sir?” said she, in a manner at once gentle and voluminous. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madam.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless she pulled it again. “It doesn’t always ring,” she explained, + “unless one is accustomed to it, which you are not.” + </p> + <p> + She addressed me with authority, exactly like Aunt Carola, and with even + greater precision in her good English and good enunciation. Unlike the + girl at the Exchange, she had no accent; her language was simply the + perfection of educated utterance; it also was racy with the free + censoriousness which civilized people of consequence are apt to exercise + the world over. “I was sorry to miss your visit,” she began (she knew me, + you see, perfectly); “you will please to come again soon, and console me + for my disappointment. I am Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, and my house is in + Le Maire Street (Pronounced in Kings Port, Lammarree) as you have been so + civil as to find out. And how does your Aunt Carola do in these + contemptible times? You can tell her from me that vulgarization is + descending, even upon Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot imagine that!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You cannot imagine it because you don’t know anything about it, young + gentleman! The manners of some of our own young people will soon be as + dishevelled as those in New York. Have you seen our town yet, or is it all + books with you? You should not leave without a look at what is still left + of us. I shall be happy if you will sit in my pew on Sunday morning. Your + Northern shells did their best in the bombardment—did you say that + you rang? I think you had better pull it again; all the way out; yes, like + that—in the bombardment, but we have our old church still, in spite + of you. Do you see the crack in that wall? The earthquake did it. You’re + spared earthquakes in the North, as you seem to be spared pretty much + everything disastrous—except the prosperity that’s going to ruin you + all. We’re better off with our poverty than you. Just ring the bell once + more, and then we’ll go. I fancy Julia—I fancy Mrs. Weguelin St. + Michael—has run out to stare at the Northern steam yacht in the + harbor. It would be just like her. This house is historic itself. Shabby + enough now, to be sure! The great-aunt of my cousin, John Mayrant (who is + going to be married next Wednesday, to such a brute of a girl, poor boy!), + lived here in 1840, and made an answer to the Earl of Mainridge that put + him in his place. She was our famous Kings Port wit, and at the reception + which her father (my mother’s uncle) gave the English visitor, he + conducted himself as so many Englishmen seem to think they can in this + country. Miss Beaufain (pronounced in Kings Port, Bowfayne), as she was + then, asked the Earl how he liked America; and he replied, very well, + except for the people, who were so vulgar. ‘What can you expect?’ said + Miss Beaufain; ‘we’re descended from the English.’ Mrs. St. Michael is + out, and the servant has gone home. Slide this card under the door, with + your own, and come away.” + </p> + <p> + She took me with her, moving through the quiet South Place with a + leisurely grace and dignity at which my spirit rejoiced; she was so + beautiful, and so easy, and afraid of nothing and nobody! (This must be + modified. I came later to suspect that they all stood in some dread of + their own immediate families.) + </p> + <p> + In the North, everybody is afraid of something: afraid of the legislature, + afraid of the trusts, afraid of the strikes, afraid of what the papers + will say, of what the neighbors will say, of what the cook will say; and + most of all, and worst of all, afraid to be different from the general + pattern, afraid to take a step or speak a syllable that shall cause them + to be thought unlike the monotonous millions of their fellow-citizens; the + land of the free living in ceaseless fear! Well, I was already afraid of + Mrs. Gregory St. Michael. As we walked and she talked, I made one or two + attempts at conversation, and speedily found that no such thing was the + lady’s intention: I was there to listen; and truly I could wish nothing + more agreeable, in spite of my desire to hear further about next + Wednesday’s wedding and the brute of a girl. But to this subject Mrs. St. + Michael did not return. We crossed Worship Street and Chancel Street, and + were nearing the East Place where a cannon was being shown me, a cannon + with a history and an inscription concerning the “war for Southern + independence, which I presume your prejudice calls the Rebellion,” said my + guide. “There’s Mrs. St. Michael now, coming round the corner. Well, + Julia, could you read the yacht’s name with your naked eye? And what’s the + name of the gambler who owns it? He’s a gambler, or he couldn’t own a + yacht—unless his wife’s a gambler’s daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “How well you’re feeling to-day, Maria!” said the other lady, with a + gentle smile. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. I have been talking for twenty minutes.” I was now presented + to Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael, also old, also charming, in widow’s dress no + less in the bloom of age than Mrs. Gregory, but whiter and very + diminutive. She shyly welcomed me to Kings Port. “Take him home with you, + Julia. We pulled your bell three times, and it’s too damp for you to be + out. Don’t forget,” Mrs. Gregory said to me, “that you haven’t told me a + word about your Aunt Carola, and that I shall expect you to come and do + it.” She went slowly away from us, up the East Place, tall, graceful, + sweeping into the distance like a ship. No haste about her dignified + movement, no swinging of elbows, nothing of the present hour! + </p> + <p> + “What a beautiful girl she must have been!” I murmured aloud, + unconsciously. + </p> + <p> + “No, she was not a beauty in her youth,” said my new guide in her shy + voice, “but always fluent, always a wit. Kings Port has at times thought + her tongue too downright. We think that wit runs in her family, for young + John Mayrant has it; and her first-cousin-once-removed put the Earl of + Mainridge in his place at her father’s ball in 1840. Miss Beaufain (as she + was then) asked the Earl how he liked America; and he replied, very well, + except for the people, who were so vulgar. ‘What can you expect?’ said + Miss Beaufain; ‘we’re descended from the English.’ I am very sorry for + Maria—for Mrs. St. Michael—just at present. Her young cousin, + John Mayrant, is making an alliance deeply vexatious to her. Do you happen + to know Miss Hortense Rieppe?” + </p> + <p> + I had never heard of her. + </p> + <p> + “No? She has been North lately. I thought you might have met her. Her + father takes her North, I believe, whenever any one will invite them. They + have sometimes managed to make it extend through an unbroken year. + Newport, I am credibly informed, greatly admires her. We in Kings Port + have never (except John Mayrant, apparently) seen anything in her beauty, + which Northerners find so exceptional.” + </p> + <p> + “What is her type?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I consider that she looks like a steel wasp. And she has the assurance to + call herself a Kings Port girl. Her father calls himself a general, and it + is repeated that he ran away at the battle of Chattanooga. I hope you will + come to see me another day, when you can spare time from the battle of + Cowpens. I am Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael, the other lady is Mrs. Gregory + St. Michael. I wonder if you will keep us all straight?” And smiling, the + little lady, whose shy manner and voice I had found to veil as much spirit + as her predecessor’s, dismissed me and went up her steps, letting herself + into her own house. + </p> + <p> + The boy in question, the boy of the cake, John Mayrant, was coming out of + the gate at which I next rang. The appearance of his boyish figure and + well-carried head struck me anew, as it had at first; from his whole + person one got at once a strangely romantic impression. He looked at me, + made as if he would speak, but passed on. Probably he had been hearing as + much about me as I had been hearing about him. At this house the black + servant had not gone home for the night, and if the mistress had been out + to take a look at the steam yacht, she had returned. + </p> + <p> + “My sister,” she said, presenting me to a supremely fine-looking old lady, + more chiselled, more august, than even herself. I did not catch this + lady’s name, and she confined herself to a distant, though perhaps not + unfriendly, greeting. She was sitting by a work-table, and she resumed + some embroidery of exquisite appearance, while my hostess talked to me. + </p> + <p> + Both wore their hair in a simple fashion to suit their years, which must + have been seventy or more; both were dressed with the dignity that such + years call for; and I may mention here that so were all the ladies above a + certain age in this town of admirable old-fashioned propriety. In New + York, in Boston, in Philadelphia, ladies of seventy won’t be old ladies + any more; they’re unwilling to wear their years avowedly, in quiet dignity + by their firesides; they bare their bosoms and gallop egregiously to the + ball-rooms of the young; and so we lose a particular graciousness that + Kings Port retains, a perspective of generations. We happen all at once, + with no background, in a swirl of haste and similarity. + </p> + <p> + One of the many things which came home to me during the conversation that + now began (so many more things came home than I can tell you!) was that + Mrs. Gregory St. Michael’s tongue was assuredly “downright” for Kings + Port. This I had not at all taken in while she talked to me, and her + friend’s reference to it had left me somewhat at a loss. That better + precision and choice of words which I have mentioned, and the manner in + which she announced her opinions, had put me in mind of several fine + ladles whom I had known in other parts of the world; but hers was an + individual manner, I was soon to find, and by no means the Kings Port + convention. This convention permitted, indeed, condemnations of one’s + neighbor no less sweeping, but it conveyed them in a phraseology far more + restrained. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot regret your coming to Kings Port,” said my hostess, after we had + talked for a little while, and I had complimented the balmy March weather + and the wealth of blooming flowers; “but I fear that Fanning is not a name + that you will find here. It belongs to North Carolina.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled and explained that North Carolina Fannings were useless to me. + “And, if I may be so bold, how well you are acquainted with my errand!” + </p> + <p> + I cannot say that my hostess smiled, that would be too definite; but I can + say that she did not permit herself to smile, and that she let me see this + repression. “Yes,” she said, “we are acquainted with your errand, though + not with its motive.” + </p> + <p> + I sat silent, thinking of the Exchange. + </p> + <p> + My hostess now gave me her own account of why all things were known to all + people in this town. “The distances in your Northern cities are greater, + and their population is much greater. There are but few of us in Kings + Port.” In these last words she plainly told me that those “few” desired no + others. She next added: “My nephew, John Mayrant, has spoken of you at + some length.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed. “I had the pleasure to see and hear him order a wedding cake.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. From Eliza La Heu (pronounced Layhew), my niece; he is my nephew, + she is my niece on the other side. My niece is a beginner at the Exchange. + We hope that she will fulfil her duties there in a worthy manner. She + comes from a family which is schooled to meet responsibilities.” + </p> + <p> + I bowed again; again it seemed fitting. “I had not, until now, known the + charming girl’s name,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + My hostess now bowed slightly. “I am glad that you find her charming.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, yes!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “We, also, are pleased with her. She is of good family—for the + up-country.” + </p> + <p> + Once again our alphabet fails me. The peculiar shade of kindness, of + recognition, of patronage, which my agreeable hostess (and all Kings Port + ladies, I soon noticed) imparted to the word “up-country” cannot be + conveyed except by the human voice—and only a Kings Port voice at + that. It is a much lighter damnation than what they make of the phrase + “from Georgia,” which I was soon to hear uttered by the lips of the lady. + “And so you know about his wedding cake?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear madam, I feel that I shall know about everything.” + </p> + <p> + Her gray eyes looked at me quietly for a moment. “That is possible. But + although we may talk of ourselves to you, we scarcely expect you to talk + of ourselves to us.” + </p> + <p> + Well, my pertness had brought me this quite properly! And I received it + properly. “I should never dream—” I hastened to say; “even without + your warning. I find I’m expected to have seen the young lady of his + choice,” I now threw out. My accidental words proved as miraculous as the + staff which once smote the rock. It was a stream, indeed, which now broke + forth from her stony discretion. She began easily. “It is evident that you + have not seen Miss Rieppe by the manner in which you allude to her—although + of course, in comparison with my age, she is a young girl.” I think that + this caused me to open my mouth. + </p> + <p> + “The disparity between her years and my nephew’s is variously stated,” + continued the old lady. “But since John’s engagement we have all of us + realized that love is truly blind.” + </p> + <p> + I did not open my mouth any more; but my mind’s mouth was wide open. + </p> + <p> + My hostess kept it so. “Since John Mayrant was fifteen he has had many + loves; and for myself, knowing him and believing in him as I do, I feel + confident that he will make no connection distasteful to the family when + he really comes to marry.” + </p> + <p> + This time I gasped outright. “But—the cake!—next Wednesday!” + </p> + <p> + She made, with her small white hand, a slight and slighting gesture. “The + cake is not baked yet, and we shall see what we shall see.” From this + onward until the end a pinkness mounted in her pale, delicate cheeks, and + deep, strong resentment burned beneath her discreetly expressed + indiscretions. “The cake is not baked, and I, at least, am not solicitous. + I tell my cousin, Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, that she must not forget it + was merely his phosphates. That girl would never have looked at John + Mayrant had it not been for the rumor of his phosphates. I suppose some + one has explained to you her pretensions of birth. Away from Kings Port + she may pass for a native of this place, but they come from Georgia. It + cannot be said that she has met with encouragement from us; she, however, + easily recovers from such things. The present generation of young people + in Kings Port has little enough to remind us of what we stood for in + manners and customs, but we are not accountable for her, nor for her + father. I believe that he is called a general. His conduct at Chattanooga + was conspicuous for personal prudence. Both of them are skillful in never + knowing poor people—but the Northerners they consort with must + really be at a loss how to bestow their money. Of course, such Northerners + cannot realize the difference between Kings Port and Georgia, and + consequently they make much of her. Her features do undoubtedly possess + beauty. A Newport woman—the new kind—has even taken her to + Worth! And yet, after all, she has remained for John. We heard a great + deal of her men, too. She took care of that, of course. John Mayrant + actually followed her to Newport. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I couldn’t help crying out, “I thought he was so poor!” + </p> + <p> + “The phosphates,” my hostess explained. “They had been discovered on his + land. And none of her New York men had come forward. So John rushed back + happy.” At this point a very singular look came over the face of my + hostess, and she continued: “There have been many false reports (and false + hopes in consequence) based upon the phosphate discoveries. It was I who + had to break it to him—what further investigation had revealed. Poor + John!” + </p> + <p> + “He has, then, nothing?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “His position in the Custom House, and a penny or two from his mother’s + fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “But the cake?” I now once again reminded her. + </p> + <p> + My hostess lifted her delicate hand and let it fall. Her resentment at the + would-be intruder by marriage still mounted. “Not even from that pair + would I have believed such a thing possible!” she exclaimed; and she went + into a long, low, contemplative laugh, looking not at me, but at the fire. + Our silent companion continued to embroider. “That girl,” my hostess + resumed, “and her discreditable father played on my nephew’s youth and + chivalry to the tune of—well, you have heard the tune.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean—you mean—?” I couldn’t quite take it in. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. They rattled their poverty at him until he offered and they + accepted.” + </p> + <p> + I must have stared grotesquely now. “That—that—the cake—and + that sort of thing—at his expense? + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir, I shall be glad if you can find me anything that they have + ever done at their own expense!” + </p> + <p> + I doubt if she would ever have permitted her speech such freedom had not + the Rieppes been “from Georgia”; I am sure that it was anger—family + anger, race anger—which had broken forth; and I think that her + silent, severe sister scarcely approved of such breaking forth to me, a + stranger. But indignation had worn her reticence thin, and I had happened + to press upon the weak place. After my burst of exclamation I came back to + it. “So you think Miss Rieppe will get out of it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is my nephew who will ‘get out of it,’ as you express it.” + </p> + <p> + I totally misunderstood her. “Oh!” I protested stupidly. “He doesn’t look + like that. And it takes all meaning from the cake.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not say cake to me again!” said the lady, smiling at last. “And—will + you allow me to tell you that I do not need to have my nephew, John + Mayrant, explained to me by any one? I merely meant to say that he, and + not she, is the person who will make the lucky escape. Of course, he is + honorable—a great deal too much so for his own good. It is a + misfortune, nowadays, to be born a gentleman in America. But, as I told + you, I am not solicitous. What she is counting on—because she thinks + she understands true Kings Port honor, and does not in the least—is + his renouncing her on account of the phosphates—the bad news, I + mean. They could live on what he has—not at all in her way, though—and + besides, after once offering his genuine, ardent, foolish love—for + it was genuine enough at the time—John would never—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped; but I took her up. “Did I understand you to say that his love + was genuine at the lime?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he thinks it is now—insists it is now! That is just precisely + what would make him—do you not see?—stick to his colors all + the closer.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” I murmured. “What a predicament!” + </p> + <p> + But my hostess nodded easily. “Oh, no. You will see. They will all see.” + </p> + <p> + I rose to take my leave; my visit, indeed, had been, for very interest, + prolonged beyond the limits of formality—my hostess had attended + quite thoroughly to my being entertained. And at this point the other, the + more severe and elderly lady, made her contribution to my entertainment. + She had kept silence, I now felt sure, because gossip was neither her + habit nor to her liking. Possibly she may have also felt that her + displeasure had been too manifest; at any rate, she spoke out of her + silence in cold, yet rich, symmetrical tones. + </p> + <p> + “This, I understand, is your first visit to Kings Port?” + </p> + <p> + I told her that it was. + </p> + <p> + She laid down her exquisite embroidery. “It has been thought a place worth + seeing. There is no town of such historic interest at the North.” + </p> + <p> + Standing by my chair, I assured her that I did not think there could be. + </p> + <p> + “I heard you allude to my half-sister-in-law, Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael. + It was at the house where she now lives that the famous Miss Beaufain (as + she was then) put the Earl of Mainridge in his place, at the reception + which her father gave the English visitor in 1840. The Earl conducted + himself as so many Englishmen seem to think they can in this country; and + on her asking him how he liked America, he replied, very well, except for + the people, who were so vulgar. + </p> + <p> + “‘What can you expect?’ said Miss Beaufain; ‘we’re descended from the + English.’” + </p> + <p> + “But I suppose you will tell me that your Northern beauties can easily + outmatch such wit.” + </p> + <p> + I hastened to disclaim any such pretension; and having expressed my + appreciation of the anecdote, I moved to the door as the stately lady + resumed her embroidery. + </p> + <p> + My hostess had a last word for me. “Do not let the cake worry you.” + </p> + <p> + Outside the handsome old iron gate I looked at my watch and found that for + this day I could spend no more time upon visiting. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV: THE GIRL BEHIND THE COUNTER—I + </h2> + <p> + I fear—no; to say one “fears” that one has stepped aside from the + narrow path of duty, when one knows perfectly well that one has done so, + is a ridiculous half-dodging of the truth; let me dismiss from my service + such a cowardly circumlocution, and squarely say that I neglected the + Cowpens during certain days which now followed. Nay, more; I totally + deserted them. Although I feel quite sure that to discover one is a real + king’s descendant must bring an exultation of no mean order to the heart, + there’s no exultation whatever in failing to discover this, day after day. + Mine is a nature which demands results, or at any rate signs of results + coming sooner or later. Even the most abandoned fisherman requires a bite + now and then; but my fishing for Fannings had not yet brought me one + single nibble—and I gave up the sad sport for a while. The beautiful + weather took me out of doors over the land, and also over the water, for I + am a great lover of sailing; and I found a little cat-boat and a little + negro, both of which suited me very well. I spent many delightful hours in + their company among the deeps and shallows of these fair Southern waters. + </p> + <p> + And indoors, also, I made most agreeable use of my time, in spite of one + disappointment when, on the day following my visit to the ladies, I + returned full of expectancy to lunch at the Woman’s exchange, the girl + behind the counter was not there. I found in her stead, it is true, a most + polite lady, who provided me with chocolate and sandwiches that were just + as good as their predecessors; but she was of advanced years, and little + inclined to light conversation. Beyond telling me that Miss Eliza La Heu + was indisposed, but not gravely so, and that she was not likely to be long + away from her post of duty, this lady furnished me with scant information. + </p> + <p> + Now I desired a great deal of information. To learn of an imminent wedding + where the bridegroom attends to the cake, and is suspected of diminished + eagerness for the bride, who is a steel wasp—that is not enough to + learn of such nuptials. Therefore I fear—I mean, I know—that + it was not wholly for the sake of telling Mrs. Gregory St. Michael about + Aunt Carola that I repaired again to Le Maire Street and rang Mrs. St. + Michael’s door-bell. + </p> + <p> + She was at home, to be sure, but with her sat another visitor, the tall, + severe lady who had embroidered and had not liked the freedom with which + her sister had spoken to me about the wedding. There was not a bit of + freedom to-day; the severe lady took care of that. + </p> + <p> + When, after some utterly unprofitable conversation, I managed to say in a + casual voice, which I thought very well tuned for the purpose, “What part + of Georgia did you say that General Rieppe came from?” the severe lady + responded:— + </p> + <p> + “I do not think that I mentioned him at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Georgia?” said Mrs. Gregory St. Michael. “I never heard that they came + from Georgia.” + </p> + <p> + And this revived my hopes. But the severe lady at once remarked to her:— + </p> + <p> + “I have received a most agreeable letter from my sister in Paris.” + </p> + <p> + This stopped Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, and dashed my hopes to earth. + </p> + <p> + The severe lady continued to me:— + </p> + <p> + “My sister writes of witnessing a performance of the Lohengrin. Can you + tell me if it is a composition of merit?” + </p> + <p> + I assured her that it was a composition of the highest merit. + </p> + <p> + “It is many years since I have heard an opera,” she pursued. “In my day + the works of the Italians were much applauded. But I doubt if Mozart will + be surpassed. I hope you admire the Nozze?” + </p> + <p> + You will not need me to tell you that I came out of Mrs. Gregory St. + Michael’s house little wiser than I went in. My experience did not lead me + to abandon all hope. I paid other visits to other ladies; but these + answered my inquiries in much the same sort of way as had the lady who + admired Mozart. They spoke delightfully of travel, books, people, and of + the colonial renown of Kings Port and its leading families; but it is + scarce an exaggeration to say that Mozart was as near the cake, the + wedding, or the steel wasp as I came with any of them. By patience, + however, and mostly at our boarding-house table, I gathered a certain + knowledge, though small in amount. + </p> + <p> + If the health of John Mayrant’s mother, I learned, had allowed that lady + to bring him up Herself, many follies might have been saved the youth. His + aunt, Miss Eliza St. Michael, though a pattern of good intentions, was not + always a pattern of wisdom. Moreover, how should a spinster bring up a boy + fitly? + </p> + <p> + Of the Rieppes, father and daughter, I also learned a little more. They + did not (most people believed) come from Georgia. Natchez and Mobile + seemed to divide the responsibility of giving them to the world. It was + quite certain the General had run away from Chattanooga. Nobody disputed + this, or offered any other battle as the authentic one. Of late the + Rieppes were seldom to be seen in Kings Port. Their house (if it had ever + been their own property, which I heard hotly argued both ways) had been + sold more than two years ago, and their recent brief sojourns in the town + were generally beneath the roof of hospitable friends—people by the + name of Cornerly, “whom we do not know,” as I was carefully informed by + more than one member of the St. Michael family. The girl had disturbed a + number of mothers whose sons were prone to slip out of the strict + hereditary fold in directions where beauty or champagne was to be found; + and the Cornerlys dined late, and had champagne. Miss Hortense had + “splurged it” a good deal here, and the measure of her success with the + male youth was the measure of her condemnation by their female elders. + </p> + <p> + Such were the facts which I gathered from women and from the few men whom + I saw in Kings Port. This town seemed to me almost as empty of men as if + the Pied Piper had passed through here and lured them magically away to + some distant country. It was on the happy day that saw Miss Eliza La Heu + again providing me with sandwiches and chocolate that my knowledge of the + wedding and the bride and groom began really to take some steps forward. + </p> + <p> + It was not I who, at my sequestered lunch at the Woman’s Exchange, began + the conversation the next time. That confection, “Lady Baltimore,” about + which I was not to worry myself, had, as they say, “broken the ice” + between the girl behind the counter and myself. + </p> + <p> + “He has put it off!” This, without any preliminaries, was her direct and + stimulating news. + </p> + <p> + I never was more grateful for the solitude of the Exchange, where I had, + before this, noted and blessed an absence of lunch customers as prevailing + as the trade winds; the people I saw there came to talk, not to purchase. + Well, I was certainly henceforth coming for both! + </p> + <p> + I eagerly plunged in with the obvious question:— + </p> + <p> + “Indefinitely?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Only Wednesday week.” + </p> + <p> + “But will it keep?” + </p> + <p> + My ignorance diverted her. “Lady Baltimore? Why, the idea!” And she + laughed at me from the immense distance that the South is from the North. + </p> + <p> + “Then he’ll have to pay for two?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I wasn’t going to make it till Tuesday. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t suppose that kind of thing would keep,” I muttered rather + vaguely. + </p> + <p> + Her young spirits bubbled over. “Which kind of thing? The wedding—or + the cake?” + </p> + <p> + This produced a moment of laughter on the part of us both; we giggled + joyously together amid the silence and wares for sale, the painted cups, + the embroidered souvenirs, the new food, and the old family “pieces.” + </p> + <p> + So this delightful girl was a verbal skirmisher! Now nothing is more to my + liking than the verbal skirmish, and therefore I began one immediately. “I + see you quite know,” was the first light shot that I hazarded. + </p> + <p> + Her retort to this was merely a very bland and inquiring stare. + </p> + <p> + I now aimed a trifle nearer the mark. “About him—her—it! Since + you practically live in the Exchange, how can you exactly help yourself?” + </p> + <p> + Her laughter came back. “It’s all, you know, so much later than 1812.” + </p> + <p> + “Later! Why, a lot of it is to happen yet!” + </p> + <p> + She leaned over the counter. “Tell me what you know about it,” she said + with caressing insinuation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—but probably they mean to have your education progress + chronologically.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I can pick it up anywhere. We had to at the plantation.” + </p> + <p> + It was from my table in the distant dim back of the room, where things + stood lumpily under mosquito netting, that I told her my history. She made + me go there to my lunch. She seemed to desire that our talk over the + counter should not longer continue. And so, back there, over my chocolate + and sandwiches, I brought out my gleaned and arranged knowledge which rang + out across the distance, comically, like a lecture. She, at her counter, + now and then busy with her ledger, received it with the attentive + solemnity of a lecture. The ledger might have been notes that she was + dutifully and improvingly taking. After I had finished she wrote on for a + little while in silence. The curly white dog rose into sight, looked + amiably and vaguely about, stretched himself, and sank to sleep again out + of sight. + </p> + <p> + “That’s all?” she asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “So far,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “And what do you think of such a young man?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I know what I think of such a young woman.” + </p> + <p> + She was still pensive. “Yes, yes, but then that is so simple.” + </p> + <p> + I had a short laugh. “Oh, if you come to the simplicity!” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, seeming to be doing sums with her pencil. + </p> + <p> + “Men are always simple—when they’re in love.” + </p> + <p> + I assented. “And women—you’ll agree?—are always simple when + they’re not!” + </p> + <p> + She finished her sums. “Well, I think he’s foolish!” she frankly stated. + “Didn’t Aunt Josephine think so, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Josephine?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Josephine St. Michael—my greet-aunt—the lady who + embroidered. She brought me here from the plantation.” + </p> + <p> + “No, she wouldn’t talk about it. But don’t you think it is your turn now?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve taken my turn!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not much. To say you think he’s foolish isn’t much. You’ve seen him + since?” + </p> + <p> + “Seen him? Since when?” + </p> + <p> + “Here. Since the postponement. I take it he came himself about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he came. You don’t suppose we discussed the reasons, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear young lady, I suppose nothing, except that you certainly must + have seen how he looked (he can blush, you know, handsomely), and that you + may have some knowledge or some guess—” + </p> + <p> + “Some guess why it’s not to be until Wednesday week? Of course he said + why. Her poor, dear father, the General, isn’t very well.” + </p> + <p> + “That, indeed, must be an anxiety for Johnny,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + This led her to indulge in some more merriment. “But he does,” she then + said, “seem anxious about something.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” I exclaimed. “Then you admit it, too!” + </p> + <p> + She resorted again to the bland, inquiring stare. + </p> + <p> + “What he won’t admit,” I explained, “even to his intimate Aunt, because + he’s so honorable.” + </p> + <p> + “He certainly is simple,” she commented, in soft and pensive tones. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t there some one,” I asked, “who could—not too directly, of + course—suggest that to him?” + </p> + <p> + “I think I prefer men to be simple,” she returned somewhat quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Especially when they’re in love,” I reminded her somewhat slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want some Lady Baltimore to-day?” she inquired in the official + Exchange tone. + </p> + <p> + I rose obediently. “You’re quite right, I should have gone back to the + battle of Cowpens long ago, and I’ll just say this—since you asked + me what I thought of him—that if he’s descended from that John + Mayrant who fought the Serapes under Paul Jones—” + </p> + <p> + “He is!” she broke in eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Then there’s not a name in South Carolina that I’d rather have for my + own.” + </p> + <p> + I intended that thrust to strike home, but she turned it off most + competently. “Oh, you mustn’t accept us because of our ancestors. That’s + how we’ve been accepting ourselves, and only look where we are in the + race!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” I said, as a parting attempt, “don’t pretend you’re not perfectly + satisfied—all of you—as to where you are in the race!” + </p> + <p> + “We don’t pretend anything!” she flashed back. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V: The Boy of the Cake + </h2> + <p> + One is unthankful, I suppose, to call a day so dreary when one has lunched + under the circumstances that I have attempted to indicate; the bright spot + ought to shine over the whole. But you haven’t an idea what a nightmare in + the daytime Cowpens was beginning to be. + </p> + <p> + I had thumbed and scanned hundreds of ancient pages, some of them + manuscript; I had sat by ancient shelves upon hard chairs, I had sneezed + with the ancient dust, and I had not put my finger upon a trace of the + right Fanning. I should have given it up, left unexplored the territory + that remained staring at me through the backs of unread volumes, had it + not been for my Aunt Carola. To her I owed constancy and diligence, and so + I kept at it; and the hermit hours I spent at Court and Chancel streets + grew worse as I knew better what rarely good company was ready to receive + me. This Kings Port, this little city of oblivion, held, shut in with its + lavender and pressed-rose memories, a handful of people who were like that + great society of the world, the high society of distinguished men and + women who exist no more, but who touched history with a light hand, and + left their mark upon it in a host of memoirs and letters that we read + to-day with a starved and home-sick longing in the midst of our sullen + welter of democracy. With its silent houses and gardens, its silent + streets, its silent vistas of the blue water in the sunshine, this + beautiful, sad place was winning my heart and making it ache. Nowhere else + in America such charm, such character, such true elegance as here—and + nowhere else such an overwhelming sense of finality!—the doom of a + civilization founded upon a crime. And yet, how much has the ballot done + for that race? Or, at least, how much has the ballot done for the majority + of that race? And what way was it to meet this problem with the sudden + sweeping folly of the Fifteenth Amendment? To fling the “door of hope” + wide open before those within had learned the first steps of how to walk + sagely through it! Ah, if it comes to blame, who goes scatheless in this + heritage of error? I could have shaped (we all could, you know) a better + scheme for the universe, a plan where we should not flourish at each + other’s expense, where the lion should be lying down with the lamb now, + where good and evil should not be husband and wife, indissolubly married + by a law of creation. + </p> + <p> + With such highly novel thoughts as these I descended the steps from my + researches at the corner of Court and Chancel streets an hour earlier than + my custom, because—well, I couldn’t, that day, stand Cowpens for + another minute. Up at the corner of Court and Worship the people were + going decently into church; it was a sweet, gentle late Friday in Lent. I + had intended keeping out-of-doors, to smell the roses in the gardens, to + bask in the soft remnant of sunshine, to loiter and peep in through the + Kings Port garden gates, up the silent walks to the silent verandas. But + the slow stream of people took me, instead, into church with the deeply + veiled ladies of Kings Port, hushed in their perpetual mourning for not + only, I think, those husbands and brothers and sons whom the war had + turned to dust forty years ago, but also for the Cause, the lost Cause, + that died with them. I sat there among these Christians suckled in a creed + outworn, envying them their well-regulated faith; it, too, was part of the + town’s repose and sweetness, together with the old-fashioned roses and the + old-fashioned ladies. Men, also, were in the congregation—not many, + to be sure, but all unanimously wearing that expression of remarkable + virtue which seems always to visit, when he goes to church, the average + good fellow who is no better than he should be. I became, myself, filled + with this same decorous inconsistency, and was singing the hymn, when I + caught sight of John Mayrant. What lady was he with? It was just this that + most annoyingly I couldn’t make out, because the unlucky disposition of + things hid it. I caught myself craning my neck and singing the hymn + simultaneously and with no difficulty, because all my childhood was in + that hymn; I couldn’t tell when I hadn’t known words and music by heart. + Who was she? I tried for a clear view when we sat down, and also, let me + confess, when we knelt down; I saw even less of her so; and my hope at the + end of the service was dashed by her slow but entire disappearance amid + the engulfing exits of the other ladies. I followed where I imagined she + had gone, out by a side door, into the beautiful graveyard; but among the + flowers and monuments she was not, nor was he; and next I saw, through the + iron gate, John Mayrant in the street, walking with his intimate aunt and + her more severe sister, and Miss La Heu. I somewhat superfluously hastened + to the gate and greeted them, to which they responded with polite, + masterly discouragement. He, however, after taking off his hat to them, + turned back, and I watched them pursuing their leisurely, reticent course + toward the South Place. Why should the old ladies strike me as looking + like a tremendously proper pair of conspirators? I was wondering this as I + turned back among the tombs, when I perceived John Mayrant coming along + one of the churchyard paths. His approach was made at right angles with + that of another personage, the respectful negro custodian of the place. + This dignitary was evidently hoping to lead me among the monuments, recite + to me their old histories, and benefit by my consequent gratitude; he had + even got so far as smiling and removing his hat when John Mayrant stopped + him. The young man hailed the negro by his first name with that particular + and affectionate superiority which few Northerners can understand and none + can acquire, and which resembles nothing so much as the way in which you + speak to your old dog who has loved you and followed you, because you have + cared for him. + </p> + <p> + “Not this time,” John Mayrant said. “I wish to show our relics to this + gentleman myself—if he will permit me?” This last was a question put + to me with a courteous formality, a formality which a few minutes more + were to see smashed to smithereens. + </p> + <p> + I told him that I should consider myself undeservedly privileged. + </p> + <p> + “Some of these people are my people,” he said, beginning to move. + </p> + <p> + The old custodian stood smiling, familiar, respectful, disappointed. “Some + of ‘em my people, too, Mas’ John,” he cannily observed. + </p> + <p> + I put a little silver in his hand. “Didn’t I see a box somewhere,” I said, + “with something on it about the restoration of the church?” + </p> + <p> + “Something on it, but nothing in it!” exclaimed Mayrant; at which moderate + pleasantry the custodian broke into extreme African merriment and ambled + away. “You needn’t have done it,” protested the Southerner, and I + naturally claimed my stranger’s right to pay my respects in this manner. + Such was our introduction, agreeable and unusual. + </p> + <p> + A silence then unexpectedly ensued and the formality fell colder than ever + upon us. The custodian’s departure had left us alone, looking at each + other across all the unexpressed knowledge that each knew the other had. + Mayrant had come impulsively back to me from his aunts, without stopping + to think that we had never yet exchanged a word; both of us were now + brought up short, and it was the cake that was speaking volubly in our + self-conscious dumbness. It was only after this brief, deep gap of things + unsaid that John Mayrant came to the surface again, and began a + conversation of which, on both our parts, the first few steps were taken + on the tiptoes of an archaic politeness; we trod convention like a + polished French floor; you might have expected us, after such deliberate + and graceful preliminaries, to dance a verbal minuet. + </p> + <p> + We, however, danced something quite different, and that conversation + lasted during many days, and led us, like a road, up hill and down dale to + a perfect acquaintance. No, not perfect, but delightful; to the end he + never spoke to me of the matter most near him, and I but honor him the + more for his reticence. + </p> + <p> + Of course his first remark had to be about Kings Port and me; had he + understood rightly that this was my first visit? + </p> + <p> + My answer was equally traditional. + </p> + <p> + It was, next, correct that he should allude to the weather; and his + reference was one of the two or three that it seems a stranger’s destiny + always to hear in a place new to him: he apologized for the weather—so + cold a season had not, in his memory, been experienced in Kings Port; it + was to the highest point exceptional. + </p> + <p> + I exclaimed that it had been, to my Northern notions, delightfully mild + for March. “Indeed,” I continued, “I have always said that if March could + be cut out of our Northern climate, as the core is cut out of an apple, I + should be quite satisfied with eleven months, instead of twelve. I think + it might prolong one’s youth.” + </p> + <p> + The fire of that season lighted in his eyes, but he still stepped upon + polished convention. He assured me that the Southern September hurricane + was more deplorable than any Northern March could be. “Our zone should be + called the Intemperate zone,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “But never in Kings Port,” I protested; “with your roses out-of-doors—and + your ladies indoors!” + </p> + <p> + He bowed. “You pay us a high compliment.” + </p> + <p> + I smiled urbanely. “If the truth is a compliment!” + </p> + <p> + “Our young ladies are roses,” he now admitted with a delicate touch of + pride. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t forget your old ones! I never shall.” + </p> + <p> + There was pleasure in his face at this tribute, which, he could see, came + from the heart. But, thus pictured to him, the old ladies brought a + further idea quite plainly into his expression; and he announced it. “Some + of them are not without thorns.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you give,” I quickly replied, “for anybody—man or woman—who + could not, on an occasion, make themselves sharply felt?” + </p> + <p> + To this he returned a full but somewhat absent-minded assent. He seemed to + be reflecting that he himself didn’t care to be the “occasion” upon which + an old lady rose should try her thorns; and I was inclined to suspect that + his intimate aunt had been giving him a wigging. + </p> + <p> + Anyhow, I stood ready to keep it up, this interchange of lofty civilities. + I, too, could wear the courtly red-heels of eighteenth-century procedure, + and for just as long as his Southern up-bringing inclined him to wear + them; I hadn’t known Aunt Carola for nothing! But we, as I have said, were + not destined to dance any minuet. + </p> + <p> + We had been moving, very gradually, and without any attention to our + surroundings, to and fro in the beautiful sweet churchyard. Flowers were + everywhere, growing, budding, blooming; color and perfume were parts of + the very air, and beneath these pretty and ancient tombs, graven with old + dates and honorable names, slept the men and women who had given Kings + Port her high place is; in our history. I have never, in this country, + seen any churchyard comparable to this one; happy, serene dead, to sleep + amid such blossoms and consecration! Good taste prevailed here; + distinguished men lay beneath memorial stones that came no higher than + your waist or shoulder; there was a total absence of obscure grocers + reposing under gigantic obelisks; to earn a monument here you must win a + battle, or do, at any rate, something more than adulterate sugar and oil. + The particular monument by which young John Mayrant and I found ourselves + standing, when we reached the point about the ladies and the thorns, had a + look of importance and it caught his eye, bringing him back to where we + were. Upon his pointing to it, and before we had spoken or I had seen the + name, I inquired eagerly: “Not the lieutenant of the Bon Homme Richard?” + and then saw that Mayrant was not the name upon it. + </p> + <p> + My knowledge of his gallant sea-fighting namesake visibly gratified him. + “I wish it were,” he said; “but I am descended from this man, too. He was + a statesman, and some of his brilliant powers were inherited by his + children—but they have not come so far down as me. In 1840, his + daughter, Miss Beaufain—” + </p> + <p> + I laid my hand right on his shoulder. “Don’t you do it, John Mayrant!” I + cried. “Don’t you tell me that. Last night I caught myself saying that + instead of my prayers.” + </p> + <p> + Well, it killed the minuet dead; he sat flat down on the low stone coping + that bordered the path to which we had wandered back—and I sat flat + down opposite him. The venerable custodian, passing along a neighboring + path, turned his head and stared at our noise. + </p> + <p> + “Lawd, see those chillun goin’ on!” he muttered. “Mas’ John, don’t you get + too scandalous, tellin’ strangers ‘bout the old famblies.” + </p> + <p> + Mayrant pointed to me. “He’s responsible, Daddy Ben. I’m being just as + good as gold. Honest injun!” + </p> + <p> + The custodian marched slowly on his way, shaking his head. “Mas’ John he + do go on,” he repeated. His office was not alone the care and the showing + off of the graveyard, but another duty, too, as native and peculiar to the + soil as the very cotton and the rice: this loyal servitor cherished the + honor of the “old famblies,” and chide their young descendants whenever he + considered that they needed it. + </p> + <p> + Mayrant now sat revived after his collapse of mirth, and he addressed me + from his gravestone. “Yes, I ought to have foreseen it.” + </p> + <p> + “Foreseen—?” I didn’t at once catch the inference. + </p> + <p> + “All my aunts and cousins have been talking to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Beaufain and the Earl of Mainridge! Well, but it’s quite worth—” + </p> + <p> + “Knowing by heart!” he broke in with new merriment. + </p> + <p> + I kept on. “Why not? They tell those things everywhere—where they’re + so lucky as to possess them! It’s a flawless specimen.” + </p> + <p> + “Of 1840 repartee?” He spoke with increasing pauses. “Yes. We do at least + possess that. And some wine of about the same date—and even + considerably older.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better for age,” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But the blue eyes of Mayrant were far away and full of shadow. “Poor Kings + Port,” he said very slowly and quietly. Then he looked at me with the + steady look and the smile that one sometimes has when giving voice to a + sorrowful conviction against which one has tried to struggle. “Poor Kings + Port,” he affectionately repeated. His hand tapped lightly two or three + times upon the gravestone upon which he was seated. “Be honest and say + that you think so, too,” he demanded, always with his smile. + </p> + <p> + But how was I to agree aloud with what his silent hand had expressed? + Those inaudible taps on the stone spoke clearly enough; they said: “Here + lies Kings Port, here lives Kings Port. Outside of this is our true death, + on the vacant wharves, in the empty streets. All that we have left is the + immortality which these historic names have won.” How could I tell him + that I thought so, too? Nor was I as sure of it then as he was. And + besides, this was a young man whose spirit was almost surely, in + suffering; ill fortune both material and of the heart, I seemed to + suspect, had made him wounded and bitter in these immediate days; and the + very suppression he was exercising hurt him the more deeply. So I replied, + honestly, as he had asked: “I hope you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s because you haven’t been here long enough,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + Over us, gently, from somewhere across the gardens and the walls, came a + noiseless water breeze, to which the roses moved and nodded among the + tombs. They gave him a fanciful thought. “Look at them! They belong to us, + and they know it. They’re saying, ‘Yes; yes; yes,’ all day long. I don’t + know why on earth I’m talking in this way to you!” he broke off with + vivacity. “But you made me laugh so.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI: In the Churchyard + </h2> + <h3> + “Then it was a good laugh, indeed!” I cried heartily. + </h3> + <p> + “Oh, don’t let’s go back to our fine manners!” he begged comically. “We’ve + satisfied each other that we have them! I feel so lonely; and my aunt just + now—well, never mind about that. But you really must excuse us about + Miss Beaufain, and all that sort of thing. I see it, because I’m of the + new generation, since the war, and—well, I’ve been to other places, + too. But Aunt Eliza, and all of them, you know, can’t see it. And I + wouldn’t have them, either! So I don’t ever attempt to explain to them + that the world has to go on. They’d say, ‘We don’t see the necessity!’ + When slavery stopped, they stopped, you see, just like a clock. Their hand + points to 1865—it has never moved a minute since. And some day”—his + voice grew suddenly tender—“they’ll go, one by one, to join the + still older ones. And I shall miss them very much.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment I did not speak, but watched the roses nodding and moving. + Then I said: “May I say that I shall miss them, too?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me. “Miss our old Kings Port people?” He didn’t invite + outsiders to do that! + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see how it is?” I murmured. “It was the same thing once with + us.” + </p> + <p> + “The same thing—in the North?” His tone still held me off. + </p> + <p> + “The same sort of dear old people—I mean charming, peppery, refined, + courageous people; in Salem, in Boston, in New York, in every place that + has been colonial, and has taken a hand in the game.” And, as certain + beloved memories of men and women rose in my mind, I continued: “If you + knew some of the Boston elder people as I have known them, you would warm + with the same admiration that is filling me as I see your people of Kings + Port.” + </p> + <p> + “But politics?” the young Southerner slowly suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang slavery! Hang the war!” I exclaimed. “Of course, we had a family + quarrel. But we were a family once, and a fine one, too! We knew each + other, we visited each other, we wrote letters, sent presents, kept up + relations; we, in short, coherently joined hands from one generation to + another; the fibres of the sons tingled with the current from their + fathers, back and back to the old beginnings, to Plymouth and Roanoke and + Rip Van Winkle! It’s all gone, all done, all over. You have to be a small, + well-knit country for that sort of exquisite personal unitedness. There’s + nothing united about these States any more, except Standard Oil and + discontent. We’re no longer a small people living and dying for a great + idea; we’re a big people living and dying for money. And these ladies of + yours—well, they have made me homesick for a national and a social + past which I never saw, but which my old people knew. They’re like + legends, still living, still warm and with us. In their quiet clean-cut + faces I seem to see a reflection of the old serene candlelight we all once + talked and danced in—sconces, tall mirrors, candles burning inside + glass globes to keep them from the moths and the draft that, of a warm + evening, blew in through handsome mahogany doors; the good bright silver; + the portraits by Copley and Gilbert Stuart; a young girl at a square + piano, singing Moore’s melodies—and Mr. Pinckney or Commodore Perry, + perhaps, dropping in for a hot supper!” + </p> + <p> + John Mayrant was smiling and looking at the graves. “Yes, that’s it; + that’s all it,” he mused. “You do understand.” + </p> + <p> + But I had to finish my flight. “Such quiet faces are gone now in the + breathless, competing North: ground into oblivion between the clashing + trades of the competing men and the clashing jewels and chandeliers of + their competing wives—while yours have lingered on, spared by your + very adversity. And that’s why I shall miss your old people when they + follow mine—because they’re the last of their kind, the end of the + chain, the bold original stock, the great race that made our glory grow + and saw that it did grow through thick and thin: the good old native blood + of independence.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke as a man can always speak when he means it; and my listener’s face + showed that my words had gone where meant words always go—home to + the heart. But he merely nodded at me. His nod, however, telling as it did + of a quickly established accord between us, caused me to bring out to this + new acquaintance still more of those thoughts which I condescend to expose + to very few old ones. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you noticed,” I said, “or don’t you feel it, away down here in + your untainted isolation, the change, the great change, that has come over + the American people?” + </p> + <p> + He wasn’t sure. + </p> + <p> + “They’ve lost their grip on patriotism.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled. “We did that here in 1861.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! You left the Union, but you loved what you considered was your + country, and you love it still. That’s just my point, just my strange + discovery in Kings Port. You retain the thing we’ve lost. Our big men + fifty years ago thought of the country, and what they could make it; our + big men to-day think of the country and what they can make out of it. + Rather different, don’t you see? When I walk about in the North, I merely + meet members of trusts or unions—according to the length of the + individual’s purse; when I walk about in Kings Port, I meet Americans.—Of + course,” I added, taking myself up, “that’s too sweeping a statement. The + right sort of American isn’t extinct in the North by any means. But + there’s such a commercial deluge of the wrong sort, that the others + sometimes seem to me sadly like a drop in the bucket.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly understand it all,” John Mayrant repeated. “It’s amazing to + find you saying things that I have thought were my own private notions.” + </p> + <p> + I laughed. “Oh, I fancy there are more than two of us in the country.” + </p> + <p> + “Even the square piano and Mr. Pinckney,” he went on. “I didn’t suppose + anybody had thought things like that, except myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” I again said lightly, “any American—any, that is, of the world—who + has a colonial background for his family, has thought, probably, very much + the same sort of things. Of course it would be all Greek or gibberish to + the new people.” + </p> + <p> + He took me up with animation. “The new people! My goodness, sir, yes! Have + you seen them? Have you seen Newport, for instance?” His diction now (and + I was to learn it was always in him a sign of heightening intensity) grew + more and more like the formal speech of his ancestors. “You have seen + Newport?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; now and then.” + </p> + <p> + “But lately, sir? I knew we were behind the times down here, sir, but I + had not imagined how much. Not by any means! Kings Port has a long road to + go before she will consider marriage provincial and chastity obsolete.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, Mr. Mayrant! Well, I must tell you that it’s not all quite so—so + advanced—as that, you know. That’s not the whole of Newport.” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to explain. “Certainly not, sir! I would not insult the + honorable families whom I had the pleasure to meet there, and to whom my + name was known because they had retained their good position since the + days when my great-uncle had a house and drove four horses there himself. + I noticed three kinds of Newport, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Three?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Because I took letters; and some of the letters were to people who—who + once had been, you know; it was sad to see the thing, sir, so plain + against the glaring proximity of the other thing. And so you can divide + Newport into those who leave to sell their old family pictures, those who + have to buy their old family pictures, and the lucky few who need neither + buy nor sell, who are neither goin’ down nor bobbing up, but who have kept + their heads above the American tidal wave from the beginning and continue + to do so. And I don’t believe that there are any nicer people in the world + than those.” + </p> + <p> + “Nowhere!” I exclaimed. “When Near York does her best, what’s better?—If + only those best set the pace!” + </p> + <p> + “If only!” he assented. “But it’s the others who get into the papers, who + dine the drunken dukes, and make poor chambermaids envious a thousand + miles inland!” + </p> + <p> + “There should be a high tariff on drunken dukes,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll never get it!” he declared. “It’s the Republican party whose + daughters marry them.” + </p> + <p> + I rocked with enjoyment where I sat; he was so refreshing. And I agreed + with him so well. “You’re every bit as good as Miss Beaufain,” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; oh, no! But I often think if we could only deport the negroes and + Newport together to one of our distant islands, how happily our two chief + problems would be solved!” + </p> + <p> + I still rocked. “Newport would, indeed, enjoy your plan for it. Do go on!” + I entreated him But he had, for the moment, ceased; and I rose to stretch + my legs and saunter among the old headstones and the wafted fragrance. + </p> + <p> + His aunt (or his cousin, or whichever of them it had been) was certainly + right as to his inheriting a pleasant and pointed gift of speech; and a + responsive audience helps us all. Such an audience I certainly was for + young John Mayrant, yet beneath the animation that our talk had filled his + eyes with lay (I seemed to see or feel) that other mood all the time, the + mood which had caused the girl behind the counter to say to me that he was + “anxious about something.” The unhappy youth, I was gradually to learn, + was much more than that—he was in a tangle of anxieties. He talked + to me as a sick man turns in bed from pain; the pain goes on, but the + pillow for a while is cool. + </p> + <p> + Here there broke upon us a little interruption, so diverting, so utterly + like the whole quaint tininess of Kings Port, that I should tell it to + you, even if it did not bear directly upon the matter which was beginning + so actively to concern me—the love difficulties of John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + It was the letter-carrier. + </p> + <p> + We had come, from our secluded seats, round a corner, and so by the vestry + door and down the walk beside the church, and as I read to myself the + initials upon the stones wherewith the walk was paved, I drew near the + half-open gateway upon Worship Street. The postman was descending the + steps of the post-office opposite. He saw me through the gate and paused. + He knew me, too! My face, easily marked out amid the resident faces he was + familiar with, had at once caught his attention; very likely he, too, had + by now learned that I was interested in the battle of Cowpens; but I did + not ask him this. He crossed over and handed me a letter. + </p> + <p> + “No use,” he said most politely, “takin’ it away down to Mistress + Trevise’s when you’re right here, sir. Northern mail eight hours late + to-day,” he added, and bowing, was gone upon his route. + </p> + <p> + My home letter, from a man, an intimate running mate of mine, soon had my + full attention, for on the second page it said:— + </p> + <p> + “I have just got back from accompanying her to Baltimore. One of us went + as far as Washington with her on the train. We gave her a dinner yesterday + at the March Hare by way of farewell. She tried our new toboggan + fire-escape on a bet. Clean from the attic, my boy. I imagine our native + girls will rejoice at her departure. However, nobody’s engaged to her, at + least nobody here. How many may fancy themselves so elsewhere I can’t say. + Her name is Hortense Rieppe.” + </p> + <p> + I suppose I must have been silent after finishing this letter. + </p> + <p> + “No bad news, I trust?” John Mayrant inquired. + </p> + <p> + I told him no; and presently we had resumed our seats in the quiet charm + of the flowers. + </p> + <p> + I now spoke with an intention. “What a lot you seem to have seen and + suffered of the advanced Newport!” + </p> + <p> + The intention wrought its due and immediate effect. “Yes. There was no + choice. I had gone to Newport upon—upon an urgent matter, which took + me among those people.” + </p> + <p> + He dwelt upon the pictures that came up in his mind. But he took me away + again from the “urgent matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw,” he resumed more briskly, “fifteen or twenty—most amazing, + sir!—young men, some of them not any older than I am, who had so + many millions that they could easily—” he paused, casting about for + some expression adequate—“could buy Kings Port and put it under a + glass case in a museum—my aunts and all—and never know it!” He + livened with disrespectful mirth over his own picture of his aunts, + purchased by millionaire steel or coal for the purposes of public + edification. + </p> + <p> + “And a very good thing if they could be,” I declared. + </p> + <p> + He wondered a moment. “My aunts? Under a glass case?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed—and with all deference be it said! They’d be more + invaluable, more instructive, than the classics of a thousand libraries.” + </p> + <p> + He was prepared not to be pleased. “May I ask to whom and for what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you ought to see! You’ve just been saying it yourself. They would + teach our bulging automobilists, our unlicked boy cubs, our alcoholic + girls who shout to waiters for ‘high-balls’ on country club porches—they + would teach these wallowing creatures, whose money has merely gilded their + bristles, what American refinement once was. The manners we’ve lost, the + decencies we’ve banished, the standards we’ve lowered, their light is + still flickering in this passing generation of yours. It’s the last torch. + That’s why I wish it could, somehow, pass on the sacred fire.” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “They don’t want the sacred fire. They want the + high-balls—and they have money enough to be drunk straight through + the next world!” He was thoughtful. “They are the classics,” he added. + </p> + <p> + I didn’t see that he had gone back to my word. “Roman Empire, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No, the others; the old people we’re bidding good-by to. Roman Republic! + Simple lives, gallant deeds, and one great uniting inspiration. Liberty + winning her spurs. They were moulded under that, and they are our true + American classics. Nothing like them will happen again.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” I suggested, “our generation is uneasily living in a ‘bad + quarter-of-an-hour’—good old childhood gone, good new manhood not + yet come, and a state of chicken-pox between whiles.” And on this I made + to him a much-used and consoling quotation about the old order changing. + </p> + <p> + “Who says that?” he inquired; and upon my telling him, “I hope so,” he + said, “I hope so. But just now Uncle Sam ‘aspires to descend.’” + </p> + <p> + I laughed at his counter-quotation. “You know your classics, if you don’t + know Tennyson.” + </p> + <p> + He, too, laughed. “Don’t tell Aunt Eliza!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her what?” + </p> + <p> + “That I didn’t recognize Tennyson. My Aunt Eliza educated me—and she + thinks Tennyson about the only poet worth reading since—well, since + Byron and Sir Walter at the very latest!” + </p> + <p> + “Neither she nor Sir Walter come down to modern poetry—or to + alcoholic girls.” His tone, on these last words, changed. + </p> + <p> + Again, as when he had said “an urgent matter,” I seemed to feel hovering + above us what must be his ceaseless preoccupation; and I wondered if he + had found, upon visiting Newport, Miss Hortense sitting and calling for + “high-balls.” + </p> + <p> + I gave him a lead. “The worst of it is that a girl who would like to + behave herself decently finds that propriety puts her out of the running. + The men flock off to the other kind.” + </p> + <p> + He was following me with watching eyes. + </p> + <p> + “And you know,” I continued, “what an anxious Newport parent does on + finding her girl on the brink of being a failure.” + </p> + <p> + “I can imagine,” he answered, “that she scolds her like the dickens.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing so ineffectual! She makes her keep up with the others, you + know. Makes her do things she’d rather not do.” + </p> + <p> + “High-balls, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything, my friend; anything to keep up.” + </p> + <p> + He had a comic suggestion. “Driven to drink by her mother! Well, it’s, at + any rate, a new cause for old effects.” He paused. It seemed strangely to + bring to him some sort of relief. “That would explain a great deal,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + Was he thus explaining to himself his lady-love, or rather certain Newport + aspects of her which had, so to speak, jarred upon his Kings Port notions + of what a lady might properly do? I sat on my gravestone with my wonder, + and my now-dawning desire to help him (if improbably I could), to get him + out of it, if he were really in it; and he sat on his gravestone opposite, + with the path between us, and the little noiseless breeze rustling the + white irises, and bearing hither and thither the soft perfume of the + roses. His boy face, lean, high-strung, brooding, was full of suppressed + contentions. I made myself, during our silence, state his possible + problem: “He doesn’t love her any more, he won’t admit this to himself; he + intends to go through with it, and he’s catching at any justification of + what he has seen in her that has chilled him, so that he may, poor wretch! + coax back his lost illusion.” Well, if that was it, what in the world + could I, or anybody, do about it? + </p> + <p> + His next remark was transparent enough. “Do you approve of young ladies + smoking?” + </p> + <p> + I met his question with another: “What reasons can be urged against it?” + </p> + <p> + He was quick. “Then you don’t mind it?” There was actual hope in the way + he rushed at this. + </p> + <p> + I laughed. “I didn’t say I didn’t mind it.” (As a matter of fact I do mind + it; but it seemed best not to say so to him.) + </p> + <p> + He fell off again. “I certainly saw very nice people doing it up there.” + </p> + <p> + I filled this out. “You’ll see very nice people doing it everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in Kings Port! At least, not my sort of people!” He stiffly + proclaimed this. + </p> + <p> + I tried to draw him out. “But is there, after all, any valid objection to + it?” + </p> + <p> + But he was off on a preceding speculation. “A mother or any parent,” he + said, “might encourage the daughter to smoke, too. And the girl might take + it up so as not to be thought peculiar where she was, and then she might + drop it very gladly.” + </p> + <p> + I became specific. “Drop it, you mean, when she came to a place where + doing it would be thought—well, in bad style?” + </p> + <p> + “Or for the better reason,” he answered, “that she didn’t really like it + herself.” + </p> + <p> + “How much you don’t ‘really like it’ yourself!” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + This time he was slow. “Well—well—why need they? Are not their + lips more innocent than ours? Is not the association somewhat—?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow,” I interrupted, “the association is, I think you’ll have + to agree, scarcely of my making!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true enough,” he laughed. “And, as you say, very nice people do it + everywhere. But not here. Have you ever noticed,” he now inquired with + continued transparency, “how much harder they are on each other than we + are on them?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! I’ve noticed that.” I surmised it was this sort of thing he had + earlier choked himself off from telling me in his unfinished complaint + about his aunt; but I was to learn later that on this occasion it was upon + the poor boy himself and not on the smoking habits of Miss Rieppe, that + his aunt had heavily descended. I also reflected that if cigarettes were + the only thing he deprecated in the lady of his choice, the lost illusion + might be coaxed back. The trouble was that deprecated something fairly + distant from cigarettes. The cake was my quite sufficient trouble; it + stuck in my throat worse than the probably magnified gossip I had heard; + this, for the present, I could manage to swallow. + </p> + <p> + He came out now with a personal note. “I suppose you think I’m a ninny.” + </p> + <p> + “Never in the wildest dream!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but too innocent for a man, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be an insult,” I declared laughingly. + </p> + <p> + “For I’m not innocent in the least. You’ll find we’re all men here, just + as much as any men in the North you could pick out. South Carolina has + never lacked sporting blood, sir. But in Newport—well, sir, we + gentlemen down here, when we wish a certain atmosphere and all that, have + always been accustomed to seek the demi-monde.” + </p> + <p> + “So it was with us until the women changed it.” + </p> + <p> + “The women, sir?” He was innocent! + </p> + <p> + “The ‘ladies,’ as you Southerners so chivalrously continue to style them. + The rich new fashionable ladies became so desperate in their competition + for men’s allegiance that they—well, some of them would, in the + point of conversation, greatly scandalize the smart demi-monde.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. “Yes. I heard men say things in drawing-rooms to ladies that a + gentleman here would have been taken out and shot for. And don’t you agree + with me, sir, that good taste itself should be a sort of religion? I don’t + mean to say anything sacrilegious, but it seems to me that even if one has + ceased to believe some parts of the Bible, even if one does not always + obey the Ten Commandments, one is bound, not as a believer but as a + gentleman, to remember the difference between grossness and refinement, + between excess and restraint—that one can have and keep just as the + pagan Greeks did, a moral elegance.” + </p> + <p> + He astonished me, this ardent, ideal, troubled boy; so innocent regarding + the glaring facts of our new prosperity, so finely penetrating as to some + of the mysteries of the soul. But he was of old Huguenot blood, and of + careful and gentle upbringing; and it was delightful to find such a young + man left upon our American soil untainted by the present fashionable + idolatries. + </p> + <p> + “I bow to your creed of ‘moral elegance,’” I cried. “It never dies. It has + outlasted all the mobs and all the religions.” + </p> + <p> + “They seemed to think,” he continued, pursuing his Newport train of + thought, “that to prove you were a dead game sport you must behave like—behave + like—” + </p> + <p> + “Like a herd of swine,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + He was merry. “Ah, if they only would—completely!” + </p> + <p> + “Completely what?” + </p> + <p> + “Behave so. Rush over a steep place into the sea.” + </p> + <p> + We sat in the quiet relish of his Scriptural idea, and the western crimson + and the twilight began to come and mingle with the perfumes. John + Mayrant’s face changed from its vivacity to a sort of pensive wistfulness, + which, for all the dash and spirit in his delicate features, was somehow + the final thing one got from the boy’s expression. It was as though the + noble memories of his race looked out of his eyes, seeking new chances for + distinction, and found instead a soil laid waste, an empty fatherland, a + people benumbed past rousing. Had he not said, “Poor Kings Port!” as he + tapped the gravestone? Moral elegance could scarcely permit a sigh more + direct. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad that you believe it never dies,” he resumed. “And I am glad to + find somebody to—talk to, you know. My friends here are everything + friends and gentlemen should be, but they don’t—I suppose it’s + because they have not had my special experiences.” + </p> + <p> + I sat waiting for the boy to go on with it. How plainly he was telling me + of his “special experiences”! He and his creed were not merely in revolt + against the herd of swine; there would be nothing special in that; I had + met people before who were that; but he was tied by honor, and soon to be + tied by the formidable nuptial knot, to a specimen devotee of the cult. He + shouldn’t marry her if he really did not want to, and I could stop it! But + how was I to begin spinning the first faint web of plan how I might stop + it, unless he came right out with the whole thing? I didn’t believe he was + the man to do that ever, even under the loosening inspiration of drink. In + wine lies truth, no doubt; but within him, was not moral elegance the + bottom truth that would, even in his cups, keep him a gentleman, and + control all such revelations? He might smash the glasses, but he would not + speak of his misgivings as to Hortense Rieppe. + </p> + <p> + He began again, “Nor do I believe that a really nice girl would continue + to think as those few do, if she once got safe away from them. Why, my + dear sir,” he stretched out his hand in emphasis, “you do not have to do + anything untimely and extreme if you are in good earnest a dead game + sport. The time comes, and you meet the occasion as the duck swims. There + was one of them—the right kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why—you’re leaning against her headstone!” + </p> + <p> + The little incongruity made us both laugh, but it was only for the + instant. The tender mood of the evening, and all that we had said, + sustained the quiet and almost grave undertone of our conference. My own + quite unconscious act of rising from the grave and standing before him on + the path to listen brought back to us our harmonious pensiveness. + </p> + <p> + “She was born in Kings Port, but educated in Europe. I don’t suppose until + the time came that she ever did anything harder than speak French, or play + the piano, or ride a horse. She had wealth and so had her husband. He was + killed in the war, and so were two of her sons. The third was too young to + go. Their fortune was swept away, but the plantation was there, and the + negroes were proud to remain faithful to the family. She took hold of the + plantation, she walked the rice-banks in high boots. She had an overseer, + who, it was told her, would possibly take her life by poison or by + violence. She nevertheless lived in that lonely spot with no protector + except her pistol and some directions about antidotes. She dismissed him + when she had proved he was cheating her; she made the planting pay as well + as any man did after the war; she educated her last son, got him into the + navy, and then, one evening, walking the river-banks too late, she caught + the fever and died. You will understand she went with one step from + cherished ease to single-handed battle with life, a delicately nurtured + lady, with no preparation for her trials.” + </p> + <p> + “Except moral elegance,” I murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that was the point, sir! To see her you would never have guessed it! + She kept her burdens from the sight of all. She wore tribulation as if it + were a flower in her bosom. We children always looked forward to her + coming, because she was so gay and delightful to us, telling us stories of + the old times—old rides when the country was wild, old journeys with + the family and servants to the Hot Springs before the steam cars were + invented, old adventures, with the battle of New Orleans or a famous duel + in them—the sort of stories that begin with (for you seem to know + something of it yourself, sir) ‘Your grandfather, my dear John, the year + that he was twenty, got himself into serious embarrassments through paying + his attentions to two reigning beauties at once.’ She was full of stories + which began in that sort of pleasant way.” + </p> + <p> + I said: “When a person like that dies, an impoverishment falls upon us; + the texture of life seems thinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, indeed! I know what you mean—to lose the people one has + always seen from the cradle. Well, she has gone away, she has taken her + memories out of the world, the old times, the old stories. Nobody, except + a little nutshell of people here, knows or cares anything about her any + more; and soon even the nutshell will be empty.” He paused, and then, as + if brushing aside his churchyard mood, he translated into his changed + thought another classic quotation: “But we can’t dawdle over the ‘tears of + things’; it’s Nature’s law. Only, when I think of the rice-banks and the + boots and the pistol, I wonder if the Newport ladies, for all their + high-balls, could do any better!” + </p> + <p> + The crimson had faded, the twilight was altogether come, but the little + noiseless breeze was blowing still; and as we left the quiet tombs behind + us, and gained Worship Street, I could not help looking back where slept + that older Kings Port about which I had heard and had said so much. Over + the graves I saw the roses, nodding and moving, as if in acquiescent + revery. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII: The Girl Behind the Counter—II + </h2> + <p> + “Which of them is idealizing?” This was the question that I asked myself, + next morning, in my boarding-house, as I dressed for breakfast; the next + morning is—at least I have always found it so—an excellent + time for searching questions; and to-day I had waked up no longer beneath + the strong, gentle spell of the churchyard. A bright sun was shining over + the eastern waters of the town, I could see from my upper veranda the + thousand flashes of the waves; the steam yacht rode placidly and + competently among them, while a coastwise steamer was sailing by her, out + to sea, to Savannah, or New York; the general world was going on, and—which + of them was idealizing? It mightn’t be so bad, after all. Hadn’t I, + perhaps, over-sentimentalized to myself the case of John Mayrant? Hadn’t I + imagined for him ever so much more anxiety than the boy actually felt? For + people can idealize down just as readily as they can idealize up. Of Miss + Hortense Rieppe I had now two partial portraits—one by the + displeased aunts, the other by their chivalric nephew; in both she held + between her experienced lips, a cigarette; there the similarity ceased. + And then, there was the toboggan fire-escape. Well, I must meet the living + original before I could decide whether (for me, at any rate) she was the + “brute” as seen by the eyes of Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, or the “really + nice girl” who was going to marry John Mayrant on Wednesday week. Just at + this point my thoughts brought up hard again at the cake. No; I couldn’t + swallow that any better this morning than yesterday afternoon! Allow the + gentleman to pay for the feast! Better to have omitted all feast; nothing + simpler, and it would have been at least dignified, even if arid. But + then, there was the lady (a cousin or an aunt—I couldn’t remember + which this morning) who had told me she wasn’t solicitous. What did she + mean by that? And she had looked quite queer when she spoke about the + phosphates. Oh, yes, to be sure, she was his intimate aunt! Where, by the + way, was Miss Rieppe? + </p> + <p> + By the time I had eaten my breakfast and walked up Worship Street to the + post-office I was full of it all again; my searching thoughts hadn’t + simplified a single point. I always called for my mail at the post-office, + because I got it sooner; it didn’t come to the boarding-house before I had + departed on my quest for royal blood, whereas, this way, I simply got my + letters at the corner of Court and Worship streets and walked diagonally + across and down Court a few steps to my researches, which I could vary and + alleviate by reading and answering news from home. + </p> + <p> + It was from Aunt Carola that I heard to-day. Only a little of what she + said will interest you. There had been a delightful meeting of the + Selected Salic Scions. The Baltimore Chapter had paid her Chapter a visit. + Three ladies and one very highly connected young gentleman had come—an + encouragingly full and enthusiastic meeting. They had lunched upon cocoa, + sherry, and croquettes, after which all had been more than glad to listen + to a paper read by a descendant of Edward the Third and the young + gentleman, a descendant of Catherine of Aragon, had recited a beautiful + original poem, entitled “My Queen Grandmother.” Aunt Carola regretted that + I could not have had the pleasure and the benefit of this meeting, the + young gentleman had turned out to be, also, a refined and tasteful + musician, playing, upon the piano a favorite gavotte of Louis the + Thirteenth “And while you are in Kings Port,” my aunt said; “I expect you + to profit by associating with the survivors of our good American society—people + such as one could once meet everywhere when I was young, but who have been + destroyed by the invasion of the proletariat. You are in the last citadel + of good-breeding. By the way, find out, if you can, if any of the Bombo + connection are extant; as through them I should like, if possible, to + establish a chapter of the Scions in South Carolina. Have you, met a Miss + Rieppe, a decidedly striking young woman, who says she is from Kings Port, + and who recently passed through here with a very common man dancing + attendance on her? He owns the Hermana, and she is said to be engaged to + him.” + </p> + <p> + This wasn’t as good as meeting Miss Rieppe myself; but the new angle at + which I got her from my Aunt was distinctly a contribution toward the + young woman’s likeness; I felt that I should know her at sight, if ever + she came within seeing distance. And it would be entertaining to find that + she was a Bombo; but that could wait; what couldn’t wait was the Hermana. + I postponed the Fannings, hurried by the door where they waited for me, + and, coming to the end of Court Street, turned to the right and sought + among the wharves the nearest vista that could give me a view of the + harbor. Between the silent walls of commerce desolated, and by the empty + windows from which Prosperity once looked out, I threaded my way to a + point upon the town’s eastern edge. Yes, that was the steam yacht’s name: + the Hermana. I didn’t make it out myself, she lay a trifle too far from + shore; but I could read from a little fluttering pennant that her owner + was not on board; and from the second loafer whom I questioned I learned, + besides her name, that she had come from New York here to meet her owner, + whose name he did not know and whose arrival was still indefinite. This + was not very much to find out; but it was so much more than I had found + out about the Fannings that, although I now faithfully returned to my + researches, and sat over open books until noon, I couldn’t tell you a word + of what I read. Where was Miss Rieppe, and where was the owner of the + Hermana? Also, precisely how ill was the hero of Chattanooga, her poor + dear father? + </p> + <p> + At the Exchange I opened the door upon a conversation which, in + consequence, broke off abruptly; but this much I came in for:— + </p> + <p> + “Nothing but the slightest bruise above his eye. The other one is in bed.” + </p> + <p> + It was the severe lady who said this; I mean that lady who, among all the + severe ones I had met, seemed capable of the highest exercise of this + quality, although she had not exercised it in my presence. She looked, in + her veil and her black street dress, as aloof, and as coldly scornful of + the present day, as she had seemed when sitting over her embroidery; but + it was not of 1818, or even 1840, that she had been talking just now: it + was this morning that somebody was bruised, somebody was in bed. + </p> + <p> + The handsome lady acknowledged my salutation completely, but not + encouragingly, and then, on the threshold, exchanged these parting + sentences with the girl behind the counter:— + </p> + <p> + “They will have to shake hands. He was not very willing, but he listened + to me. Of course, the chastisement was right—but it does not affect + my opinion of his keeping on with the position.” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed, Aunt Josephine!” the girl agreed. “I wish he wouldn’t. Did + you say it was his right eye?” + </p> + <p> + “His left.” Miss Josephine St. Michael inclined her head once more to me + and went out of the Exchange. I retired to my usual table, and the girl + read in my manner, quite correctly, the feelings which I had not supposed + I had allowed to be evident. She said:— + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Josephine always makes strangers think she’s displeased with them.” + </p> + <p> + I replied like the young ass which I constantly tell myself I have ceased + to be: “Oh, displeasure is as much notice as one is entitled to from Miss + St. Michael.” + </p> + <p> + The girl laughed with her delightful sweet mockery. + </p> + <p> + “I declare, you’re huffed! Now don’t tell me you’re not. But you mustn’t + be. When you know her, you’ll know that that awful manner means Aunt + Josephine is just being shy. Why, even I’m not afraid of her George + Washington glances any more!” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” I laughed, “I’ll try to have your courage.” Over my chocolate + and sandwiches I sat in curiosity discreditable, but natural. Who was in + bed—who would have to shake hands? And why had they stopped talking + when I came in? Of course, I found myself hoping that John Mayrant had put + the owner of the Hermana in bed at the slight cost of a bruise above his + left eye. I wondered if the cake was again countermanded, and I started + upon that line. “I think I’ll have to-day, if you please, another slice of + that Lady Baltimore.” And I made ready for another verbal skirmish. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry! It’s a little stale to-day. You can have the last slice, if + you wish.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I will.” She brought it. “It’s not so very stale,” I said. + “How long since it has been made?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s the same you’ve been having. You’re its only patron just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no. There’s Mr. Mayrant.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for a week yet, you remember.” + </p> + <p> + So the wedding was on yet. Still, John might have smashed the owner of the + Hermana. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen him lately?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + There was something special in the way she looked. “Not to-day. Have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never in the forenoon. He has his duties and I have mine.” + </p> + <p> + She made a little pause, and then, “What do you think of the President?” + </p> + <p> + “The President?” I was at a loss. + </p> + <p> + “But I’m afraid you would take his view—the Northern view,” she + mused. + </p> + <p> + It gave me, suddenly, her meaning. “Oh, the President of the United + States! How you do change the subject!” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were upon me, burning with sectional indignation, but she seemed + to be thinking too much to speak. Now, here was a topic that I had + avoided, and she had plumped it at me. Very well; she should have my view. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean that a gentleman cannot invite any respectable member of any + race he pleases to dine privately in his house—” + </p> + <p> + “His house!” She was glowing now with it. “I think he is—I think he + is—to have one of them—and even if he likes it, not to + remember—cannot speak about him!” she wound up “I should say + unbecoming things.” She had walked out, during these words, from behind + the counter and as she stood there in the middle of the long room you + might have thought she was about to lead a cavalry charge. Then, + admirably, she put it all under, and spoke on with perfect self-control. + “Why can’t somebody explain it to him? If I knew him, I would go to him + myself, and I would say, Mr. President, we need not discuss our different + tastes as to dinner company. Nor need we discuss how much you benefit the + colored race by an act which makes every member of it immediately think + that he is fit to dine with any king in the world. But you are staying in + a house which is partly our house, ours, the South’s, for we, too, pay + taxes, you know. And since you also know our deep feeling—you may + even call it a prejudice, if it so pleases you—do you not think + that, so long as you are residing in that house, you should not + gratuitously shock our deep feeling?” She swept a magnificent low curtsy + at the air. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, Miss La Heu!” I exclaimed, “you put it so that it’s rather hard + to answer.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m glad it strikes you so.” + </p> + <p> + “But did it make them all think they were going to dine?” + </p> + <p> + “Hundreds of thousands. It was proof to them that they were as good as + anybody—just as good, without reading or writing or anything. The + very next day some of the laziest and dirtiest where we live had a new + strut, like the monkey when you put a red flannel cap on him—only + the monkey doesn’t push ladies off the sidewalk. And that state of mind, + you know,” said Miss La Heu, softening down from wrath to her roguish + laugh, “isn’t the right state of mind for racial progress! But I wasn’t + thinking of this. You know he has appointed one of them to office here.” + </p> + <p> + A light entered my brain: John Mayrant had a position at the Custom House! + John Mayrant was subordinate to the President’s appointee! She hadn’t + changed the subject so violently, after all. + </p> + <p> + I came squarely at it. “And so you wish him to resign his position?” + </p> + <p> + But I was ahead of her this time. + </p> + <p> + “The Chief of Customs?” she wonderingly murmured. + </p> + <p> + I brought her up with me now. “Did Miss Josephine St. Michael say it was + over his left eye?” + </p> + <p> + The girl instantly looked everything she thought. “I believe you were + present!” This was her highly comprehensive exclamation, accompanied also + by a blush as splendidly young as John Mayrant had been while he so + stammeringly brought out his wishes concerning the cake. I at once decided + to deceive her utterly, and therefore I spoke the exact truth: “No, I + wasn’t present.” + </p> + <p> + They did their work, my true words; the false impression flowed out of + them as smoothly as California claret from a French bottle. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder who told you?” my victim remarked. “But it doesn’t really + matter. Everybody is bound to know it. You surely were the last person + with him in the churchyard?” + </p> + <p> + “Gracious!” I admitted again with splendidly mendacious veracity. “How we + do find each other out in Kings Port!” + </p> + <p> + It was not by any means the least of the delights which I took in the + company of this charming girl that sometimes she was too much for me, and + sometimes I was too much for her. It was, of course, just the accident of + our ages; in a very few years she would catch up, would pass, would always + be too much for me. Well, to-day it was happily my turn; I wasn’t going to + finish lunch without knowing all she, at any rate, could tell me about the + left eye and the man in bed. + </p> + <p> + “Forty years ago,” I now, with ingenuity, remarked, “I suppose it would + have been pistols.” + </p> + <p> + She assented. “And I like that better—don’t you—for + gentlemen?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you mean that fists are—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she finished for me. + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” I maintained, “don’t you think that there ought to be some + correspondence, some proportion, between the gravity of the cause and the + gravity of—” + </p> + <p> + “Let the coal-heavers take to their fists!” she scornfully cried. “People + of our class can’t descend—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but,” I interrupted, “then you give the coal-heavers the palm for + discrimination.” + </p> + <p> + “How’s that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, perfectly! Your coal-heaver kills for some offenses, while for + lighter ones he—gets a bruise over the left eye.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t meet it, you don’t meet it! What is an insult ever but an + insult?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we in the North notice certain degrees—insolence, impudence, + impertinence, liberties, rudeness—all different.” + </p> + <p> + She took up my phrase with a sudden odd quietness. “You in the North.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. We have, alas! to expect and allow for rudeness sometimes, even + in our chosen few, and for liberties in their chosen few; it’s only the + hotel clerk and the head waiter from whom we usually get impudence; while + insolence is the chronic condition of the Wall Street rich.” + </p> + <p> + “You in the North!” she repeated. “And so your Northern eyes can’t see it, + after all!” At these words my intelligence sailed into a great blank, + while she continued: “Frankly—and forgive me for saying it—I + was hoping that you were one Northerner who would see it.” + </p> + <p> + “But see what?” I barked in my despair. + </p> + <p> + She did not help me. “If I had been a man, nothing could have insulted me + more than that. And that’s what you don’t see,” she regretfully finished. + “It seems so strange.” + </p> + <p> + I sat in the midst of my great blank, while her handsome eyes rested upon + me. In them was that look of a certain inquiry and a certain remoteness + with which one pauses, in a museum, before some specimen of the + cave-dwelling man. + </p> + <p> + “You comprehend so much,” she meditated slowly, aloud; “you’ve been such + an agreeable disappointment, because your point of view is so often the + same as ours.” She was still surveying me with the specimen expression, + when it suddenly left her. “Do you mean to sit there and tell me,” she + broke out, “that you wouldn’t have resented it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “O dear!” my mind lamentably said to itself, inside. Of what may have been + the exterior that I presented to her, sitting over my slice of Lady + Baltimore, I can form no impression. + </p> + <p> + “Put yourself in his place,” the girl continued. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” I gasped, “that is always so easy to say and so hard to do.” + </p> + <p> + My remark proved not a happy one. She made a brief, cold pause over it, + and then, as she wheeled round from me, back to the counter: “No + Southerner would let pass such an affront.” + </p> + <p> + It was final. She regained her usual place, she resumed her ledger; the + curly dog, who had come out to hear our conversation, went in again; I was + disgraced. Not only with the profile of her short, belligerent nose, but + with the chilly way in which she made her pencil move over the ledger, she + told me plainly that my self-respect had failed to meet her tests. This + was what my remarkable ingenuity had achieved for me. I swallowed the last + crumbs of Lady Baltimore, and went forward to settle the account. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I’m scarcely entitled to ask for a fresh one to-morrow,” I + ventured. “I am so fond of this cake.” + </p> + <p> + Her officialness met me adequately. “Certainly the public is entitled to + whatever we print upon our bill-of-fare.” + </p> + <p> + Now this was going to be too bad! Henceforth I was to rank merely as “the + public,” no matter how much Lady Baltimore I should lunch upon! A happy + thought seized me, and I spoke out instantly on the strength of it. + </p> + <p> + “Miss La Heu, I’ve a confession to make.” + </p> + <p> + But upon this beginning of mine the inauspicious door opened and young + John Mayrant came in. It was all right about his left eye; anybody could + see that bruise! + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he exclaimed, hearty, but somewhat disconcerted. “To think of + finding you here! You’re going? But I’ll see you later?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” I said. “You know where I work.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes. I’ll come. We’ve all sorts of things more to say, haven’t + we? We—good-by!” + </p> + <p> + Did I hear, as I gained the street, something being said about the + General, and the state of his health? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII: Midsummer-Night’s Dream + </h2> + <p> + You may imagine in what state of wondering I went out of that place, and + how little I could now do away with my curiosity. By the droll looks and + head-turnings which followed me from strangers that passed me by in the + street, I was made aware that I must be talking aloud to myself, and the + words which I had evidently uttered were these: “But who in the world can + he have smashed up?” + </p> + <p> + Of course, beneath the public stare and smile I kept the rest of my + thoughts to myself; yet they so possessed and took me from my + surroundings, that presently, while crossing Royal Street, I was nearly + run down by an electric car. Nor did even this serve to disperse my + preoccupation; my walk back to Court and Chancel streets is as if it had + not been; I can remember nothing about it, and the first account that I + took of external objects was to find myself sitting in my accustomed chair + in the Library, with the accustomed row of books about the battle of + Cowpens waiting on the table in front of me. How long we had thus been + facing each other, the books and I, I’ve not a notion. And with such + mysterious machinery are we human beings filled—machinery that is in + motion all the while, whether we are aware of it or not—that now, + with some part of my mind, and with my pencil assisting, I composed + several stanzas to my kingly ancestor, the goal of my fruitless search; + and yet during the whole process of my metrical exercise I was really + thinking and wondering about John Mayrant, his battles and his loves. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ODE ON INTIMATIONS OF ROYALTY + + I sing to thee, thou Great Unknown, + Who canst connect me with a throne + Through uncle, cousin, aunt, or sister, + But not, I trust, through bar sinister. + + Chorus: + Gules! Gules! and a cuckoo peccant! +</pre> + <p> + Such was the frivolous opening of my poem, which, as it progressed, grew + even less edifying; I have quoted this fragment merely to show you how + little reverence for the Selected Salic Scions was by this time left in my + spirit, and not because the verses themselves are in the least + meritorious; they should serve as a model for no serious-minded singer, + and they afford a striking instance of that volatile mood, not to say that + inclination to ribaldry, which will at seasons crop out in me, do what I + will. It is my hope that age may help me to subdue this, although I have + observed it in some very old men. + </p> + <p> + I did not send my poem to Aunt Carola, but I wrote her a letter, even + there and then, couched in terms which I believe were altogether + respectful. I deplored my lack of success in discovering the link that was + missing between me and king’s blood; I intimated my conviction that + further effort on my part would still be met with failure; and I renounced + with fitting expressions of disappointment my candidateship for the Scions + thanking Aunt Carola for her generosity, by which I must now no longer + profit. I added that I should remain in Kings Port for the present, as I + was finding the climate of decided benefit to my health, and the courtesy + of the people an education in itself. + </p> + <p> + Whatever pain at missing the glory of becoming a Scion may have lingered + with me after this was much assuaged in a few days by my reading an + article in a New York paper, which gave an account of a meeting of my + Aunt’s Society, held in that city. My attention was attracted to this + article by the prominent heading given to it: THEY WORE THEIR CROWNS. This + in very conspicuous Roman capitals, caused me to sit up. There must have + been truth in some of it, because the food eaten by the Scions was + mentioned as consisting of sandwiches, sherry and croquettes; yet I think + that the statement that the members present addressed each other according + to the royal families from which they severally traced descent, as, for + example, Brother Guelph and Sister Plantagenet, can scarce have beers + aught but an exaggeration; nevertheless, the article brought me undeniable + consolation for my disappointment. + </p> + <p> + After finishing my letter to Aunt Carola I should have hastened out to + post it and escape from Cowpens, had I not remembered that John Mayrant + had more or less promised to meet me here. Now, there was but a slender + chance that he boy would speak to me on the subject of his late encounter; + this I must learn from other sources; but he might speak to me about + something that would open a way for my hostile preparations against Miss + Rieppe. So far he had not touched upon his impending marriage in any way, + but this reserve concerning a fact generally known among the people whom I + was seeing could hardly go on long without becoming ridiculous. If he + should shun mention of it to-day, I would take this as a plain sign that + he did not look forward to it with the enthusiasm which a lover ought to + feel for his approaching bliss; and on such silence from him I would + begin, if I could, to undermine his intention of keeping an engagement of + the heart when the heart no longer entered into it. + </p> + <p> + While my thoughts continued to be busied over this lover and his concerns, + I noticed the works of William Shakespeare close beside me upon a shelf; + and although it was with no special purpose in mind that I took out one of + the volumes and sat down with it to wait for John Mayrant, in a little + while an inspiration came to me from its pages, so that I was more anxious + than ever the boy should not fail to meet me here in the Library. + </p> + <p> + Was it the bruise on his forehead that had perturbed his manner just now + when he entered the Exchange? No, this was not likely to be the reason, + since he had been full as much embarrassed that first day of my seeing him + there, when he had given his order for Lady Baltimore so lamely that the + girl behind the counter had come to his aid. And what could it have been + that he had begun to tell her to-day as I was leaving the place? Was the + making of that cake again to be postponed on account of the General’s + precarious health? And what had been the nature of the insult which young + John Mayrant had punished and was now commanded to shake hands over? Could + it in truth be the owner of the Hermana whom he had thrashed so well as to + lay him up in bed? That incident had damaged two people at least, the + unknown vanquished combatant in his bodily welfare, and me in my character + as an upstanding man in the fierce feminine estimation of Miss La Heu; but + this injury it was my intention to set right; my confession to the girl + behind the counter was merely delayed. As I sat with Shakespeare open in + my lap, I added to my store of reasoning one little new straw of argument + in favor of my opinion that John Mayrant was no longer at ease or happy + about his love affair. I had never before met any young man in whose + manner nature was so finely tempered with good bringing-up; forwardness + and shyness were alike absent from him, and his bearing had a sort of + polished unconsciousness as far removed from raw diffidence as it was from + raw conceit; it was altogether a rare and charming address in a youth of + such true youthfulness, but it had failed him upon two occasions which I + have already mentioned. Both times that he had come to the Exchange he had + stumbled in his usually prompt speech, lost his habitual ease, and + betrayed, in short, all the signs of being disconcerted. The matter seemed + suddenly quite plain to me: it was the nature of his errands to the + Exchange. The first time he had been ordering the cake for his own + wedding, and to-day it was something about the wedding again. Evidently + the high mettle of his delicacy and breeding made him painfully conscious + of the view which others must take of the part that Miss Rieppe was + playing in all this—a view from which it was out of his power to + shield her; and it was this consciousness that destroyed his composure. + From what I was soon to learn of his fine and unmoved disregard for + unfavorable opinion when he felt his course to be the right one, I know + that it was no thought at all of his own scarcely heroic role during these + days, but only the perception that outsiders must detect in his affianced + lady some of those very same qualities which had chilled his too + precipitate passion for her, and left him alone, without romance, without + family sympathy, without social acclamations, with nothing indeed save his + high-strung notion of honor to help him bravely face the wedding march. + How appalling must the wedding march sound to a waiting bridegroom who + sees the bride, that he no longer looks at except with distaste and + estrangement, coming nearer and nearer to him up the aisle! A funeral + march would be gayer than that music, I should think! The thought came to + me to break out bluntly and say to him: “Countermand the cake! She’s only + playing with you while that yachtsman is making up his mind.” But there + could be but one outcome of such advice to John Mayrant: two people, + instead of one, would be in bed suffering from contusions. As I mused on + the boy and his attractive and appealing character, I became more rejoiced + than ever that he had thrashed somebody, I cared not very much who nor yet + very much why, so long as such thrashing had been thorough, which seemed + quite evidently and happily the case. He stood now in my eyes, in some way + that is too obscure for me to be able to explain to you, saved from some + reproach whose subtlety likewise eludes my powers of analysis. + </p> + <p> + It was already five minutes after three o’clock, my dinner hour, when he + at length appeared in the Library; and possibly I put some reproach into + my greeting: “Won’t you walk along with me to Mrs. Trevise’s?” (That was + my boarding house.) + </p> + <p> + “I could not get away from the Custom House sooner,” he explained; and + into his eyes there came for a moment that look of unrest and + preoccupation which I had observed at times while we had discussed Newport + and alcoholic girls. The two subjects seemed certainly far enough apart! + But he immediately began upon a conversation briskly enough—so + briskly that I suspected at once he had got his subject ready in advance; + he didn’t want me to speak first, lest I turn the talk into channels + embarrassing, such as bruised foreheads or wedding cake. Well, this should + not prevent me from dropping in his cup the wholesome bitters which I had + prepared. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir! Well, sir!” such was his hearty preface. “I wonder if you’re + feeling ashamed of yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Never when I read Shakespeare,” I answered restoring the plume to its + place. + </p> + <p> + He looked at the title. “Which one?” + </p> + <p> + “One of the unsuitable love affairs that was prevented in time.” + </p> + <p> + “Romeo and Juliet?” + </p> + <p> + “No; Bottom and Titania—and Romeo and Juliet were not prevented in + time. They had their bliss once and to the full, and died before they + caused each other anything but ecstasy. No weariness of routine, no tears + of disenchantment; complete love, completely realized—and finis! + It’s the happiest ending of all the plays.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me hard. “Sometimes I believe you’re ironic!” + </p> + <p> + I smiled at him. “A sign of the highest civilization, then. But please to + think of Juliet after ten years of Romeo and his pin-headed intelligence + and his preordained infidelities. Do you imagine that her predecessor, + Rosamond, would have had no successors? Juliet would have been compelled + to divorce Romeo, if only for the children’s sake. + </p> + <p> + “The children!” cried John Mayrant. “Why, it’s for their sake deserted + women abstain from divorce!” + </p> + <p> + “Juliet would see deeper than such mothers. She could not have her little + sons and daughters grow up and comprehend their father’s absences, and see + their mother’s submission to his returns for such discovery would scorch + the marrow of any hearts they had.” + </p> + <p> + At this, as we came out of the Library, he made an astonishing rejoinder, + and one which I cannot in the least account for: “South Carolina does not + allow divorce.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I should think,” I said to him, “that all you people here would be + doubly careful as to what manner of husbands and wives you chose for + yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + Such a remark was sailing, you may say, almost within three points of the + wind; and his own accidental allusion to Romeo had brought it about with + an aptness and a celerity which were better for my purpose than anything I + had privately developed from the text of Bottom and Titania; none the + less, however, did I intend to press into my service that fond couple also + as basis for a moral, in spite of the sharp turn which those last words of + mine now caused him at once to give to our conversation. His quick + reversion to the beginning of the talk seemed like a dodging of remarks + that hit too near home for him to relish hearing pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” he resumed with the same initial briskness, “I was ashamed if + you were not.” + </p> + <p> + “I still don’t make out what impropriety we have jointly committed.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of the views you expressed about our country?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! When we sat on the gravestones.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think about it to-day?” + </p> + <p> + I turned to him as we slowly walked toward Worship Street. “Did you say + anything then that you would take back now?” + </p> + <p> + He pondered, wrinkling his forehead. “Well, but all the same, didn’t we + give the present hour a pretty black eye?” + </p> + <p> + “The present hour deserves a black eye, and two of them!” + </p> + <p> + He surveyed me squarely. “I believe you’re a pessimist!” + </p> + <p> + “That is the first trashy thing I’ve heard you say.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you! At least admit you’re scarcely an optimist.” + </p> + <p> + “Optimist! Pessimist! Why, you’re talking just like a newspaper!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “Oh, don’t compare a gentleman to a newspaper.” + </p> + <p> + “Then keep your vocabulary clean of bargain-counter words. A while ago the + journalists had a furious run upon the adjective ‘un-American.’ Anybody or + anything that displeased them was ‘un-American.’ They ran it into the + ground, and in its place they have lately set up ‘pessimist,’ which + certainly has a threatening appearance. They don’t know its meaning, and + in their mouths it merely signifies that what a man says snakes them feel + personally uncomfortable. The word has become a dusty rag of slang. The + arrested burglar very likely calls the policeman a pessimist; and, + speaking reverently and with no intention to shock you, the scribes and + Pharisees would undoubtedly have called Christ a pessimist when He called + them hypocrites, had they been acquainted with the word.” + </p> + <p> + Once more my remarks drew from the boy an unexpected rejoinder. We had + turned into Worship Street, and, as we passed the churchyard, he stopped + and laid his hand upon the railing of the pate. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t shock me,” he said; and then: “But you would shock my aunts.” + He paused, gazing into the churchyard, before he continued more slowly: + “And so should I—if they knew it—shock them.” + </p> + <p> + “If they knew what?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + His hand indicated a sculptured crucifix near by. + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe everything still?” he answered. “Can you?” + </p> + <p> + As he looked at me, I suppose that he read negation in my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “No more can I,” he murmured. Again he looked in among the tombstones and + flowers, where the old custodian saw us and took off his hat. “Howdy, + Daddy Ben!” John Mayrant returned pleasantly, and then resuming to me: “No + more can I believe everything.” Then he gave a brief, comical laugh. “And + I hope my aunts won’t find that out! They would think me gone to perdition + indeed. But I always go to church here” (he pointed to the quiet building, + which, for all its modest size and simplicity, had a stately and + inexpressible charm), “because I like to kneel where my mother said her + prayers, you know.” He flushed a little over this confidence into which he + had fallen, but he continued: “I like the words of the service, too, and I + don’t ask myself over-curiously what I do believe; but there’s a permanent + something within us—a Greater Self—don’t you think?” + </p> + <p> + “A permanent something,” I assented, “which has created all the religions + all over the earth from the beginning, and of which Christianity itself is + merely one of the present temples.” + </p> + <p> + He made an exclamation at my word “present.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think anything in this world is final?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “But—” he began, somewhat at a loss. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you found out yet that human nature is the one indestructible + reality that we know?” + </p> + <p> + “But—” he began again. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t we have the ‘latest thing’ all the time, and never the ultimate + thing, never, never? The latest thing in women’s hats is that huge-brimmed + affair with the veil as voluminous as a double-bed mosquito netting. That + hat will look improbable next spring. The latest thing in science is + radium. Radium has exploded the conservation of energy theory—turned + it into a last year’s hat. Answer me, if Christianity is the same as when + it wore among its savage ornaments a devil with horns and a flaming Hell! + Forever and forever the human race reaches out its hand and shapes some + system, some creed, some government, and declares: ‘This is at length the + final thing, the cure-all,’ and lo and behold, something flowing and + eternal in the race itself presently splits the creed and the government + to pieces! Truth is a very marvelous thing. We feel it; it can fill our + eyes with tears, our hearts with joy, it can make us die for it; but once + our human lips attempt to formulate and thus imprison it, it becomes a + lie. You cannot shut truth up in any words.” + </p> + <p> + “But it shall prevail!” the boy exclaimed with a sort of passion. + </p> + <p> + “Everything prevails,” I answered him. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Neither do I,” I returned. “But Jacob got Esau’s inheritance by a mean + trick.” + </p> + <p> + “Jacob was punished for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did that help Esau much?” + </p> + <p> + “You are a pessimist!” + </p> + <p> + “Just because I see Jacob and Esau to-day, alive and kicking in Wall + Street, Washington, Newport, everywhere?” + </p> + <p> + “You’re no optimist, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I’m blind in neither eye.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t give us credit—” + </p> + <p> + “For what?” + </p> + <p> + “For what we’ve accomplished since Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + “Printing, steam, and electricity, for instance? They spread the Bible and + the yellow journal with equal velocity.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean science. Take our institutions.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we’ve accomplished hospitals and the stock market—a pretty + even set-off between God and the devil.” + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “You don’t take a high view of us!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor a low one. I don’t play ostrich with any of the staring permanences + of human nature. We’re just as noble to-day as David was sometimes, and + just as bestial to-day as David was sometimes, and we’ve every possibility + inside us all the time, whether we paint our naked skins, or wear steel + armor or starched shirts.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I believe good is the guiding power in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, John Mayrant! Good and evil draw us on like a span of horses, + sometimes like a tandem, taking turns in the lead. Order has melted into + disorder, and disorder into new order—how many times?” + </p> + <p> + “But better each time.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you know, who never lived in any age but your own?” + </p> + <p> + “I know we have a higher ideal.” + </p> + <p> + “Have we? The Greek was taught to love his neighbor as himself. He gave + his great teacher a cup of poison. We gave ours the cross.” + </p> + <p> + Again he looked away from me into the sweet old churchyard. “I can’t + answer you, but I don’t believe it.” + </p> + <p> + This brought me to gayety. “That’s unanswerable, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + He still stared at the graves. “Those people in there didn’t think all + these uncomfortable things.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! no! They belonged in the first volume of the history of our national + soul, before the bloom was off us.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s an odd notion! And pray what volume are we in now?” + </p> + <p> + “Only the second.” + </p> + <p> + “Since when?” + </p> + <p> + “Since that momentous picnic, the Spanish War!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how that took the bloom off us.” + </p> + <p> + “It didn’t. It merely waked Europe up to the facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Our battleships, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Our steel rails, our gold coffers, our roaring affluence.” + </p> + <p> + “And our very accurate shooting!” he insisted; for he was a Southerner, + and man’s gallantry appealed to him more than man’s industry. + </p> + <p> + I laughed. “Yes, indeed! We may say that the Spanish War closed our first + volume with a bang. And now in the second we bid good-by to the virgin + wilderness, for it’s explored; to the Indian, for he’s conquered; to the + pioneer, for he’s dead; we’ve finished our wild, romantic adolescence and + we find ourselves a recognized world power of eighty million people, and + of general commercial endlessness, and playtime over.” + </p> + <p> + I think, John Mayrant now asserted, “that it is going too far to say the + bloom is off us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’ll find snow in the woods away into April and May. The + freedom-loving American, the embattled farmer, is not yet extinct in the + far recesses. But the great cities grow like a creeping paralysis over + freedom, and the man from the country is walking into them all the time + because the poor, restless fellow believes wealth awaits him on their + pavements. And when he doesn’t go to them, they come to him. The Wall + Street bucket-shop goes fishing in the woods with wires a thousand miles + long; and so we exchange the solid trailblazing enterprise of Volume One + for Volume Two’s electric unrest. In Volume One our wagon was hitched to + the star of liberty. Capital and labor have cut the traces. The labor + union forbids the workingman to labor as his own virile energy and skill + prompt him. If he disobeys, he is expelled and called a ‘scab.’ Don’t let + us call ourselves the land of the free while such things go on. We’re all + thinking a deal too much about our pockets nowadays. Eternal vigilance + cannot watch liberty and the ticker at the same time. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said John Mayrant, “we’re not thinking about our pockets in Kings + Port, because” (and here there came into his voice and face that sudden + humor which made him so delightful)—“because we haven’t got any + pockets to think of!” + </p> + <p> + This brought me down to cheerfulness from my flight among the cold clouds. + </p> + <p> + He continued: “Any more lamentations, Mr. Jeremiah?” + </p> + <p> + “Those who begin to call names, John Mayrant—but never mind! I could + lament you sick if I chose to go on about our corporations and corruption + that I see with my pessimistic eye; but the other eye sees the American + man himself—the type that our eighty millions on the whole melt into + and to which my heart warms each time I land again from more polished and + colder shores—my optimistic eye sees that American dealing + adequately with these political diseases. For stronger even than his + kindness, his ability, and his dishonesty is his self-preservation. He’s + going to stand up for the ‘open shop’ and sit down on the ‘trust’; and I + assure you that I don’t in the least resemble the Evening Post.” + </p> + <p> + A look of inquiry was in John Mayrant’s features. + </p> + <p> + “The New York Evening Post,” I repeated with surprise. Still the inquiry + of his face remained. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, fortunate youth!” I cried. “To have escaped the New York Evening + Post!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it so heinous?” + </p> + <p> + “Well!... well!... how exactly describe it?... make you see it?... It’s + partially tongue-tied, a sad victim of its own excesses. Habitual + over-indulgence in blaming has given it a painful stutter when attempting + praise; it’s the sprucely written sheet of the supercilious; it’s the + after-dinner pill of the American who prefers Europe; it’s our Republic’s + common scold, the Xantippe of journalism, the paper without a country.” + </p> + <p> + “The paper without a country! That’s very good!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I’ll tell you something much better, but it is not mine. A clever + New Yorker said that what with The Sun—” + </p> + <p> + “I know that paper.” + </p> + <p> + “—what with The Sun making vice so attractive in the morning and the + Post making virtue so odious in the evening, it was very hard for a man to + be good in New York.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear I should subscribe to The Sun,” said John Mayrant. He took his + hand from the church-gate railing, and we had turned to stroll down + Worship Street when he was unexpectedly addressed. + </p> + <p> + For some minutes, while John Mayrant and I had been talking, I had grown + aware, without taking any definite note of it, that the old custodian of + the churchyard, Daddy Ben, had come slowly near us from the distant corner + of his demesne, where he had been (to all appearances) engaged in some + trifling activity among the flowers—perhaps picking off the faded + blossoms. It now came home to me that the venerable negro had really been, + in a surreptitious way, watching John Mayrant, and waiting for something—either + for the right moment to utter what he now uttered, or his own delayed + decision to utter it at all. + </p> + <p> + “Mas’ John!” he called quite softly. His tone was fairly padded with + caution, and I saw that in the pause which followed, his eye shot a swift + look at the bruise on Mayrant’s forehead, and another look, equally swift, + at me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Daddy Ben, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + The custodian shunted close to the gate which separated him from us. “Mas’ + John, I speck de President he dun’ know de cullud people like we knows + ‘um, else he nebber bin ‘pint dat ar boss in de Cussum House, no, sah.” + </p> + <p> + After this effort he wiped his forehead and breathed hard. + </p> + <p> + To my astonishment, the effort brought immediately a stern change over + John Mayrant’s face; then he answered in the kindest tones, “Thank you, + Daddy Ben.” + </p> + <p> + This answer interpreted for me the whole thing, which otherwise would have + been obscure enough: the old man held it to be an indignity that his young + “Mas’ John” should, by the President’s act, find himself the subordinate + of a member of the black race, and he had just now, in his perspiring + effort, expressed his sympathy! Why he had chosen this particular moment + (after quite obvious debate with himself) I did not see until somewhat + later. + </p> + <p> + He now left us standing at the gate; and it was not for some moments that + John Mayrant spoke again, evidently closing, for our two selves, this + delicate subject. + </p> + <p> + “I wish we had not got into that second volume of yours.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not progressive.” + </p> + <p> + “I hate progress.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use? Better grow old gracefully! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Qui no pas l’esprit de son age + De son age a tout le malheur.’” + </pre> + <p> + “Well, I’m personally not growing old, just yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither is the United States.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t know. It’s too easy for sick or worthless people to survive + nowadays. They are clotting up our square miles very fast. Philanthropists + don’t seem to remember that you can beget children a great deal faster + than you can educate them; and at this rate I believe universal suffrage + will kill us off before our time.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not believe it! We are going to find out that universal suffrage is + like the appendix—useful at an early stage of the race’s evolution + but to-day merely a threat to life.” + </p> + <p> + He thought this over. “But a surgical operation is pretty serious, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “It’ll be done by absorption. Why, you’ve begun it yourselves, and so has + Massachusetts. The appendix will be removed, black and white—and I + shouldn’t much fear surgery. We’re not nearly civilized enough yet to have + lost the power Of recuperation, and in spite of our express-train speed, I + doubt if we shall travel from crudity to rottenness without a pause at + maturity.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the old, old story,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; is there anything new under the sun?” + </p> + <p> + He was gloomy. “Nothing, I suppose.” Then the gloom lightened. “Nothing + new under the sun—except the fashionable families of Newport!” + </p> + <p> + This again brought us from the clouds of speculation down to Worship + Street, where we were walking toward South Place. It also unexpectedly + furnished me with the means to lead back our talk so gently, without a + jolt or a jerk, to my moral and the delicate topic of matrimony from which + he had dodged away, that he never awoke to what was coming until it had + come. He began pointing out, as we passed them, certain houses which were + now, or had at some period been, the dwellings of his many relatives: “My + cousin Julia So-and-so lives there,” he would say; or, “My great-uncle, + known as Regent Tom, owned that before the War”; and once, “The Rev. + Joseph Priedieu, my great-grandfather, built that house to marry his fifth + wife in, but the grave claimed him first.” + </p> + <p> + So I asked him a riddle. “What is the difference between Kings Port and + Newport?” + </p> + <p> + This he, of course, gave up. + </p> + <p> + “Here you are all connected by marriage, and there they are all connected + by divorce.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true!” he cried, “that’s very true. I met the most embarrassingly + cater-cornered families.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they weren’t embarrassed!” I interjected. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I was,” said John. + </p> + <p> + “And you told me you weren’t innocent!” I exclaimed. “They are going to + institute a divorce march,” I continued. “‘Lohengrin’ or + ‘Midsummer-Night’s Dream’ played backward. They have not settled which it + is to be taught in the nursery with the other kindergarten melodies.” + </p> + <p> + He was still unsuspectingly diverted; and we walked along until we turned + in the direction of my boarding-house. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever notice,” I now said, “what a perpetual allegory + ‘Midsummer-Night’s Dream’ contains?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it was just a fairy sort of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but when a great poet sets his hand to a fairy sort of thing, you + get—well, you get poor Titania.” + </p> + <p> + “She fell in love with a jackass,” he remarked. “Puck bewitched her.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely. A lovely woman with her arms around a jackass. Does that never + happen in Kings Port?” + </p> + <p> + He began smiling to himself. “I’m afraid Puck isn’t all dead yet.” + </p> + <p> + I was now in a position to begin dropping my bitters. “Shakespeare was + probably too gallant to put it the other way, and make Oberon fall in love + with a female jackass. But what an allegory!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he muttered. “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + I followed with another drop. “Titania got out of it. It is not always + solved so easily.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he muttered. “No.” It was quite evident that the flavor of my + bitters reached him. + </p> + <p> + He was walking slowly, with his head down, and frowning hard. We had now + come to the steps of my boarding-house, and I dropped my last drop. “But a + disenchanted woman has the best of it—before marriage, at least.” + </p> + <p> + He looked up quickly. “How?” + </p> + <p> + I evinced surprise. “Why, she can always break off honorably, and we never + can, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + For the third time this day he made me an astonishing rejoinder: “Would + you like to take orders from a negro?” + </p> + <p> + It reduced me to stammering. “I have never—such a juncture has never—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you wouldn’t. Even a Northerner!” + </p> + <p> + His face, as he said this, was a single glittering piece of fierceness. I + was still so much taken aback that I said rather flatly: “But who has to?” + </p> + <p> + “I have to.” With this he abruptly turned on his heel and left me standing + on the steps. For a moment I stared after him; and then, as I rang the + bell, he was back again; and with that formality which at times overtook + him he began: “I will ask you to excuse my hasty—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, John Mayrant! What a notion!” + </p> + <p> + But he was by no means to be put off, and he proceeded with stiffer + formality: “I feel that I have not acted politely just now, and I beg to + assure you that I intended no slight.” + </p> + <p> + My first impulse was to lay a hand upon his shoulder and say to him: “My + dear fellow, stuff and nonsense!” Thus I should have treated any Northern + friend; but here was no Northerner. I am glad that I had the sense to feel + that any careless, good-natured putting away of his deliberate and + definitely tendered apology would seem to him a “slight” on my part. His + punctilious value for certain observances between man and man reached me + suddenly and deeply, and took me far from the familiarity which breeds + contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Why, John Mayrant,” I said, “you could never offend me unless I thought + that you wished to, and how should I possibly think that?” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he replied very simply. + </p> + <p> + I rang the bell a second time. “If we can get into the house,” I + suggested, “won’t you stop and dine with me?” + </p> + <p> + He was going to accept. “I shall be—” he had begun, in tones of + gratification, when in one instant his face was stricken with complete + dismay. “I had forgotten,” he said; and this time he was gone indeed, and + in a hurry most apparent. It resembled a flight. + </p> + <p> + What was the matter now? You will naturally think that it was an + appointment with his ladylove which he had forgotten; this was certainly + my supposition as I turned again to the front door. There stood one of the + waitresses, glaring with her white eyes half out of her black face at the + already distant back of John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I thought; but, before I could think any more, the tall, dreadful + boarder—the lady whom I secretly called Juno—swept up the + steps, and by me into the house, with a dignity that one might term + deafening. + </p> + <p> + The waitress now muttered, or rather sang, a series of pious apostrophes. + “Oh, Lawd, de rampages and de ructions! Oh, Lawd, sinner is in my way, + Daniel!” She was strongly, but I think pleasurably, excited; and she next + turned to me with a most natural grin, and saying, “Chick’n’s mos’ gone, + sah,” she went back to the dining room. + </p> + <p> + This admonition sent me upstairs to make as hasty a toilet as I could. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX: Juno + </h2> + <p> + Each recent remarkable occurrence had obliterated its predecessor, and it + was with difficulty that I made a straight parting in my hair. Had it been + Miss Rieppe that John so suddenly ran away to? It seemed now more as if + the boy had been running away from somebody. The waitress had stared at + him with extraordinary interest; she had seen his bruise; perhaps she knew + how he had got it. Her excitement—had he smashed up his official + superior at the custom house? That would be an impossible thing, I told + myself instantly; as well might a nobleman cross swords with a peasant. + Perhaps the stare of the waitress had reminded him of his bruise, and he + might have felt disinclined to show himself with it in a company of + gossiping strangers. Still, that would scarcely account for it—the + dismay with which he had so suddenly left me. Was Juno the cause—she + had come up behind me; he must have seen her and her portentous manner + approaching—had the boy fled from her? + </p> + <p> + And then, his fierce outbreak about taking orders from a negro when I was + moralizing over the misfortune of marrying a jackass! I got a sort of + parting in my hair, and went down to the dining room. + </p> + <p> + Juno was there before me, with her bonnet, or rather her headdress, still + on, and I heard her making apologies to Mrs. Trevise for being so late. + Mrs. Trevise, of course, sat at the head of her table, and Juno sat at her + right hand. I was very glad not to have a seat near Juno, because this + lady was, as I have already hinted, an intolerable person to me. Either + her Southern social position or her rent (she took the whole second floor, + except Mrs. Trevise’s own rooms) was of importance to Mrs. Trevise; but I + assure you that her ways kept our landlady’s cold, impervious tact + watchful from the beginning to the end of almost every meal. Juno was one + of those persons who possess so many and such strong feelings themselves + that they think they have all the feelings there are; at least, they + certainly consider no one’s feelings but their own. She possessed an + inexhaustible store of anecdote, but it was exclusively about our Civil + War; you would have supposed that nothing else had ever happened in the + world. When conversation among the rest of us became general, she + preserved a cold and acrid inattention; when the fancy took her to open + her own mouth, it was always to begin some reminiscence, and the + reminiscence always began: “In September, 1862, when the Northern + vandals,” etc., etc., or “When the Northern vandals were repulsed by my + husband’s cousin, General Braxton Bragg,” etc., etc. Now it was not that I + was personally wounded by the term, because at the time of the vandals I + was not even born, and also because I know that vandals cannot be kept out + of any army. Deeply as I believed the March to the Sea to have been + imperative, of “Sherman’s bummers” and their excesses I had a fair + historic knowledge and a very poor opinion; and this I should have been + glad to tell Juno, had she ever given me the chance; but her immodest + sympathy for herself froze all sympathy for her. Why could she not + preserve a well-bred silence upon her sufferings, as did the other old + ladies I had met in Kings Port? Why did she drag them in, thrust them, + poke them, shove them at you? Thus it was that for her insulting disregard + of those whom her words might wound I detested Juno; and as she was a + woman, and nearly old enough to be my grandmother, it was, of course, out + of the question that I should retaliate. When she got very bad indeed, it + was calm Mrs. Trevise’s last, but effective, resort to tinkle a little + handbell and scold one of the waitresses whom its sound would then summon + from the kitchen. This bell was tinkled not always by any means for my + sake; other travellers from the North there were who came and went, + pausing at Kings Port between Florida and their habitual abodes. + </p> + <p> + At present our company consisted of Juno; a middle-class Englishman + employed in some business capacity in town; a pair of very young + honeymooners from the “up-country”; a Louisiana poetess, who wore the + long, cylindrical ringlets of 1830, and who was attending a convention the + Daughters of Dixie; two or three males and females, best described as et + ceteras; and myself. “I shall only take a mouthful for the sake of + nourishment,” Juno was announcing, “and then I shall return to his + bedside.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he very suffering?” inquired the poetess, in melodious accent. + </p> + <p> + “It was an infamous onslaught,” Juno replied. + </p> + <p> + The poetess threw up her eyes and crooned, “Noble, doughty champion!” + </p> + <p> + “You may say so indeed, madam,” said Juno. + </p> + <p> + “Raw beefsteak’s jolly good for your eye,” observed the Briton. + </p> + <p> + This suggestion did not appear to be heard by Juno. + </p> + <p> + “I had a row with a chap,” the Briton continued. He’s my best friend now. + He made me put raw beefsteak—” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you,” interrupted Juno. “He requires no beefsteak, raw or + cooked.” + </p> + <p> + The face of the Briton reddened. “Too groggy to eat, is he?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Trevise tinkled her bell. “Daphne! I have said to you twice to hand + those yams.” + </p> + <p> + “I done handed ‘em twice, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Hand them right away, Daphne, and don’t be so forgetful.” It was not easy + to disturb the composure of Mrs. Trevise. + </p> + <p> + The poetess now took up the broken thread. “Had I a son,” she declared, “I + would sooner witness him starve than hear him take orders from a menial + race.” + </p> + <p> + “But mightn’t starving be harder for him to experience than for you to + witness, y’ know?” asked the Briton. + </p> + <p> + At this one of the et ceteras made a sort of snuffing noise, and ate his + dinner hard. + </p> + <p> + It was the male honeymooner who next spoke. “Must have been quite a + tussle, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “It was an infamous onslaught!” repeated Juno. “Wish I’d seen it!” sighed + the honeymooner. + </p> + <p> + His bride smiled at him beamingly. “You’d have felt right lonesome to be + out of it, David.” + </p> + <p> + “No apology has yet been offered,” continued Juno. + </p> + <p> + “But must your nephew apologize besides taking a licking?” inquired the + Briton. + </p> + <p> + Juno turned an awful face upon hint. “It is from his brutal assailant that + apologies are due. Mr. Mayrant’s family” (she paused here for blighting + emphasis) “are well-bred people, and he will be coerced into behaving like + a gentleman for once.” + </p> + <p> + I checked an impulse here to speak out and express my doubts as to the + family coercion being founded upon any dissatisfaction with John’s + conduct. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if reading or recitation might not soothe your nephew?” said the + poetess, now. + </p> + <p> + “I should doubt it,” answered Juno. “I have just come from his bedside.” + </p> + <p> + “I should so like to soothe him, if I could,” the poetess murmured. “If he + were well enough to hear my convention ode—” + </p> + <p> + “He is not nearly well enough,” said Juno. + </p> + <p> + The et cetera here coughed and blew his nose so remarkably that we all + started. + </p> + <p> + A short silence followed, which Juno relieved. + </p> + <p> + “I will give the young ruffian’s family the credit they deserve,” she + stated. “The whole connection despises his keeping the position.” + </p> + <p> + Another et cetera now came into it. “Is it known what exactly precipitated + the occurrence?” + </p> + <p> + Juno turned to him. “My nephew is a gentleman from whose lips no unworthy + word could ever fall.’ + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the et cetera, mildly. “He said something, then?” + </p> + <p> + “He conveyed a well-merited rebuke in fitting terms.” + </p> + <p> + “What were the terms?” inquired the Briton. + </p> + <p> + Juno again did not hear him. “It was after a friendly game of cards. My + nephew protested against any gentleman remaining at the custom house since + the recent insulting appointment.” + </p> + <p> + I was now almost the only member of the party who had preserved strict + silence throughout this very interesting conversation, because, having no + wish to converse with Juno at any time, I especially did not desire it + now, just after her seeing me (I thought she must have seen me) in + amicable conference with the object of her formidable displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “Every Mayrant is ferocious that I ever heard of,” she continued. “You + cannot trust that seemingly delicate and human exterior. His father had + it, too—deceiving exterior and raging interior, though I will say + for that one that he would never have stooped to humiliate the family name + as his son is doing. His regiment was near by when the Northern vandals + burned our courthouse, and he made them run, I can tell you! It’s a mercy + for that poor girl that the scales have dropped from her eyes and she has + broken her engagement with him.” + </p> + <p> + “With the father?” asked a third et cetera. + </p> + <p> + Juno stared at the intruder. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Trevise drawled a calm contribution. “The father died before this boy + was born.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see!” murmured the et cetera, gratefully. + </p> + <p> + Juno proceeded. “No woman’s life would be safe with him.” + </p> + <p> + “But mightn’t he be safer for a person’s niece than for their nephew?” + said the Briton. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Trevise’s hand moved toward the bell. + </p> + <p> + But Juno answered the question mournfully: “With such hereditary + bloodthirstiness, who can tell?” And so Mrs. Trevise moved her hand away + again. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, but do you know if the other gentleman is laid up, too?” + inquired the male honeymooner, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “I am happy to understand that he is,” replied Juno. + </p> + <p> + In sheer amazement I burst out, “Oh!” and abruptly stopped. + </p> + <p> + But it was too late. I had instantly become the centre of interest. The et + ceteras and honeymooners craned their necks; the Briton leaned toward me + from opposite; the poetess, who had worn an absent expression since being + told that the injured champion was not nearly well enough to listen to her + ode, now put on her glasses and gazed at me kindly; while Juno reared her + headdress and spoke, not to me, but to the air in my general neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one later intelligence than what I bring from my nephew’s + bedside?” + </p> + <p> + So she hadn’t perceived who my companion at the step had been! Well, she + should be enlightened, they all should be enlightened, and vengeance was + mine. I spoke with gentleness:— + </p> + <p> + “Your nephew’s impressions, I fear, are still confused by his deplorable + misadventure.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask what you know about his impressions?” + </p> + <p> + Out of the corner of my eye I saw the hand of Mrs. Trevise move toward her + bell; but she wished to hear all about it more than she wished concord at + her harmonious table; and the hand stopped. + </p> + <p> + Juno spoke again. “Who, pray, has later news than what I bring?” + </p> + <p> + My enemy was in my hand; and an enemy in the hand is worth I don’t know + how many in the bush. + </p> + <p> + I answered most gently: “I do not come from Mr. Mayrant’s bedside, because + I have just left him at the front door in sound health—saving a + bruise over his left eye.” + </p> + <p> + During a second we all sat in a high-strung silence, and then Juno became + truly superb. “Who sees the scars he brazenly conceals?” + </p> + <p> + It took away my breath; my battle would have been lost, when the Briton + suggested: “But mayn’t he have shown those to his Aunt?” + </p> + <p> + We sat in no silence now; the first et cetera made extraordinary sounds on + his plate, Mrs. Trevise tinkled her handbell with more unction than I had + ever yet seen in her; and while she and Daphne interchanged streams of + severe words which I was too disconcerted to follow, the other et ceteras + and the honeymooners hectically effervesced into small talk. I presently + found myself eating our last course amid a reestablished calm, when, with + a rustle, Juno swept out from among us, to return (I suppose) to the + bedside. As she passed behind the Briton’s chair, that invaluable person + kicked me under the table, and on my raising my eyes to him he gave me a + large, robust wink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X: High Walk and the Ladies + </h2> + <p> + I now burned to put many questions to the rest of the company. If, through + my foolish and outreaching slyness with the girl behind the counter, the + door of my comprehension had been shut, Juno had now opened it + sufficiently wide for a number of facts to come crowding in, so to speak, + abreast. Indeed, their simultaneous arrival was not a little confusing, as + if several visitors had burst in upon me and at once begun speaking + loudly, each shouting a separate and important matter which demanded my + intelligent consideration. John Mayrant worked in the custom house, and + Kings Port frowned upon this; not merely Kings Port in general—which + counted little with the boy, if indeed he noticed general opinion at all—but + the boy’s particular Kings Port, his severe old aunts, and his cousins, + and the pretty girl at the Exchange, and the men he played cards with, all + these frowned upon it, too; yet even this condemnation one could disregard + if some lofty personal principle, some pledge to one’s own sacred honor, + were at stake—but here was no such thing: John Mayrant hated the + position himself. The salary? No, the salary would count for nothing in + the face of such a prejudice as I had seen glitter from his eye! A strong, + clever youth of twenty-three, with the world before him, and no one to + support—stop! Hortense Rieppe! There was the lofty personal + principle, the sacred pledge to honor; he was engaged presently to endow + her with all his worldly goods; and to perform this faithfully a + bridegroom must not, no matter how little he liked “taking orders from a + negro,” fling away his worldly goods some few days before he was to + pronounce his bridegroom’s vow. So here, at Mrs. Trevise’s dinner-table, I + caught for one moment, to the full, a vision of the unhappy boy’s plight; + he was sticking to a task which he loathed that he might support a wife + whom he no longer desired. Such, as he saw it, was his duty; and nobody, + not even a soul of his kin or his kind, gave him a word or a thought of + understanding, gave him anything except the cold shoulder. Yes; from one + soul he had got a sign—from aged Daddy Ben, at the churchyard gate; + and amid my jostling surmises and conclusions, that quaint speech of the + old negro, that little act of fidelity and affection from the heart of a + black man, took on a strange pathos in its isolation amid the general + harshness of his white superiors. Over this it was that I was pausing + when, all in a second, perplexity again ruled my meditations. Juno had + said that the engagement was broken. Well, if that were the case—But + was it likely to be the case? Juno’s agreeable habit, a habit grown + familiar to all of us in the house, was to sprinkle about, along with her + vitriol, liberal quantities of the by-product of inaccuracy. Mingled with + her latest illustrations, she had poured out for us one good dose of + falsehood, the antidote for which it had been my happy office to + administer on the spot. If John Mayrant wasn’t in bed from the wounds of + combat, as she had given us to suppose, perhaps Hortense Rieppe hadn’t + released him from his plighted troth, as Juno had also announced; and + distinct relief filled me when I reasoned this out. I leave others to + reason out why it was relief, and why a dull disappointment had come over + me at the news that the match was off. This, for me, should have been good + news, when you consider that I had been so lately telling myself such a + marriage must not be, that I must myself, somehow (since no one else + would), step in and arrest the calamity; and it seems odd that I should + have felt this blankness and regret upon learning that the parties had + happily settled it for themselves, and hence my difficult and delicate + assistance was never to be needed by them. + </p> + <p> + Did any one else now sitting at our table know of Miss Rieppe’s reported + act? What particulars concerning John’s fight had been given by Juno + before my entrance? It didn’t surprise me that her nephew was in bed from + Master Mayrant’s lusty blows. One could readily guess the manner in which + young John, with his pent-up fury over the custom house, would “land” his + chastisement all over the person of any rash critic! And what a talking + about it must be going on everywhere to-day! If Kings Port tongues had + been set in motion over me and my small notebook in a library, the whole + town must be buzzing over every bruise given and taken in this evidently + emphatic battle. I had hoped to glean some more precise information from + my fellow-boarders after Juno had disembarrassed us of her sonorous + presence; but even if they were possessed of all the facts which I lacked, + Mrs. Trevise in some masterly fashion of her own banished the subject from + further discussion. She held us off from it chiefly, I think, by adopting + a certain upright posture in her chair, and a certain tone when she + inquired if we wished a second help of the pudding. After thirty-five + years of boarders and butchers, life held no secrets or surprises for her; + she was a mature, lone, disenchanted, able lady, and even her silence was + like an arm of the law. + </p> + <p> + An all too brief conversation, nipped by Mrs. Trevise at a stage even + earlier than the bud, revealed to me that perhaps my fellow-boarders would + have been glad to ask me questions, too. + </p> + <p> + It was the male honeymooner who addressed me. “Did I understand you to + say, sir, that Mr. Mayrant had received a bruise over his left eye?” + </p> + <p> + “Daphne!” called out Mrs. Trevise, “Mr. Henderson will take an orange.” + </p> + <p> + And so we finished our meal without further reference to eyes, or noses, + or anything of the sort. It was just as well, I reflected, when I reached + my room, that I on my side had been asked no questions, since I most + likely knew less than the others who had heard all that Juno had to say; + and it would have been humiliating, after my superb appearance of knowing + more, to explain that John Mayrant had walked with me all the way from the + Library, and never told me a word about the affair. + </p> + <p> + This reflection increased my esteem for the boy’s admirable reticence. + What private matter of his own had I ever learned from him? It was other + people, invariably, who told me of his troubles. There had been that + single, quickly controlled outbreak about his position in the Custom + House, and also he had let fall that touching word concerning his faith + and his liking to say his prayers in the place where his mother had said + them; beyond this, there had never yet been anything of all that must at + the present moment be intimately stirring in his heart. + </p> + <p> + Should I “like to take orders from a negro?” Put personally, it came to me + now as a new idea came as something which had never entered my mind + before, not even as an abstract hypothesis I didn’t have to think before + reaching the answer though; something within me, which you ma call what + you please—convention, prejudice, instinct—something answered + most prompt and emphatically in the negative. I revolved in my mind as I + tried to pack into a box a number of objects that I had bought in one or + to “antique” shops. They wouldn’t go in, the objects; they were of + defeating and recalcitrant shapes, and of hostile materials—glass + and brass—and I must have a larger box made, and in that case I + would buy this afternoon the other kettle-supporter (I forget its right + name) and have the whole lot decently packed. Take orders from a colored + man? Have him give you directions, dictate you letters, discipline you if + you were unpunctual? No, indeed! And if such were my feeling, how must + this young Southerner feel? With this in my mind, I made sure that the + part in my back hair was right, and after that precaution soon found + myself on my way, in a way somewhat roundabout, to the kettle-supporter + sauntering northward along High Walk, and stopping often; the town, and + the water, and the distant shores all were so lovely, so belonged to one + another, so melted into one gentle impression of wistfulness and + tenderness! I leaned upon the stone parapet and enjoyed the quiet which + every surrounding detail brought to my senses. How could John Mayrant + endure such a situation? I continued to wonder; and I also continued to + assure myself it was absurd to suppose that the engagement was broken. + </p> + <p> + The shutting of a front door across the street almost directly behind me + attracted my attention because of its being the first sound that had + happened in noiseless, empty High Walk since I had been strolling there; + and I turned from the parapet to see that I was no longer the solitary + person in the street. Two ladies, one tall and one diminutive, both in + black and with long black veils which they had put back from their faces, + were evidently coming from a visit. As the tall one bowed to me I + recognized Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, and took off my hat. It was not until + they had crossed the street and come up the stone steps near where I stood + on High Walk that the little lady also bowed to me; she was Mrs. Weguelin + St. Michael, and from something in her prim yet charming manner I gathered + that she held it to be not perfectly well-bred in a lady to greet a + gentleman across the width of a public highway, and that she could have + wished that her tall companion had not thus greeted me, a stranger likely + to comment upon Kings Port manners. In her eyes, such free deportment + evidently went with her tall companion’s method of speech: hadn’t the + little lady informed me during our first brief meeting that Kings Port at + times thought Mrs. Gregory St. Michael’s tongue “too downright”? + </p> + <p> + The two ladies having graciously granted me permission to join them while + they took the air, Mrs. Gregory must surely have shocked Mrs. Weguelin by + saying to me, “I haven’t a penny for your thoughts, but I’ll exchange.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you thus bargain in the dark, madam?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ll risk that; and, to say truth, even your back, as we came out of + that house, was a back of thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I confess to some thinking. Shall I begin?” + </p> + <p> + It was Mrs. Weguelin who quickly replied, smiling: “Ladies first, you + know. At least we still keep it so in Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + “Would we did everywhere!” I exclaimed devoutly; and I was quite aware + that beneath the little lady’s gentle smile a setting down had lurked, a + setting down of the most delicate nature, administered to me not in the + least because I had deserved one, but because she did not like Mrs. + Gregory’s “downright” tongue, and could not stop her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory now took the prerogative of ladies, and began. “I was + thinking of what we had all just been saying during our visit across the + way—and with which you are not going to agree—that our young + people would do much better to let us old people arrange their marriages + for them, as it Is done in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “O dear!” + </p> + <p> + “I said that you would not agree; but that is because you are so young.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that twenty-eight is so young.” + </p> + <p> + “You will know it when you are seventy-three.” This observation again came + from Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael, and again with a gentle and attractive + smile. It was only the second time that she had spoken; and throughout the + talk into which we now fell as we slowly walked up and down High Walk, she + never took the lead; she left that to the “downright” tongue—but I + noticed, however, that she chose her moments to follow the lead very + aptly. I also perceived plainly that what we were really going to discuss + was not at all the European principle of marriage-making, but just simply + young John and his Hortense; they were the true kernel of the nut with + whose concealing shell Mrs. Gregory was presenting me, and in proposing an + exchange of thoughts she would get back only more thoughts upon the same + subject. It was pretty evident how much Kings Port was buzzing over all + this! They fondly believed they did not like it; but what would they have + done without it? What, indeed, were they going to do when it was all over + and done with, one way or another? As a matter of fact, they ought to be + grateful to Hortense for contributing illustriously to the excitement of + their lives. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, I am well aware,” Mrs. Gregory pursued, “that the young people + of to-day believe they can all ‘teach their grandmothers to suck eggs,’ as + we say in Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + “We say it elsewhere, too,” I mildly put in. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? I didn’t know that the North, with its pest of Hebrew and other + low immigrants, had retained any of the good old homely saws which we + brought from England. But do you imagine that if the control of marriage + rested in the hands of parents and grandparents (where it properly + belongs), you would be witnessing in the North this disgusting spectacle + of divorce?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mrs. St. Michael—” + </p> + <p> + “We didn’t invite you to argue when we invited you to walk!” cried the + lady, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “We should like you to answer the question,” said Mrs. Weguelin St. + Michael. + </p> + <p> + “And tell us,” Mrs. Gregory continued, “if it’s your opinion that a boy + who has never been married is a better judge of matrimony’s pitfalls than + his father.” + </p> + <p> + “Or than any older person who has bravely and worthily gone through with + the experience,” Mrs. Weguelin added. + </p> + <p> + “Ladies, I’ve no mind to argue. But we’re ahead of Europe; we don’t need + their clumsy old plan.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory gave a gallant, incredulous snort. “I shall be interested to + learn of anything that is done better here than in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, many things, surely! But especially the mating of the fashionable + young. They don’t need any parents to arrange for them; it’s much better + managed through precocity.” + </p> + <p> + “Through precocity? I scarcely follow you.” + </p> + <p> + And Mrs. Weguelin softly added, “You must excuse us if we do not follow + you.” But her softness nevertheless indicated that if there were any one + present needing leniency, it was myself. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” I told them, “it’s through precocity. The new-rich American no + longer commits the blunder of keeping his children innocent. You’ll see it + beginning in the dancing-class, where I heard an exquisite little girl of + six say to a little boy, ‘Go away; I can’t dance with you, because my + mamma says your mamma only keeps a maid to answer the doorbell.’ When they + get home from the dancing-class, tutors in poker and bridge are waiting to + teach them how to gamble for each other’s little dimes. I saw a little boy + in knickerbockers and a wide collar throw down the evening paper—” + </p> + <p> + “At that age? They read the papers?” interrupted Mrs. Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “They read nothing else at any age. He threw it down and said, ‘Well, I + guess there’s not much behind this raid on Steel Preferred.’ What need has + such a boy for parents or grandparents? Presently he is travelling to a + fashionable boarding-school in his father’s private car. At college all + his adolescent curiosities are lavishly gratified. His sister at home + reads the French romances, and by eighteen she, too, knows (in her head at + least) the whole of life, so that she can be perfectly trusted; she would + no more marry a mere half-millionaire just because she loved him than she + would appear twice in the same ball-dress. She and her ball-dresses are + described in the papers precisely as if she were an animal at a show—which + indeed is what she has become; and she’s eager to be thus described, + because she and her mother—even if her mother was once a lady and + knew better—are haunted by one perpetual, sickening fear, the fear + of being left out. And if you desire to pay correct ballroom compliments, + you no longer go to her mother and tell her she’s looking every bit as + young as her daughter; you go to the daughter and tell her she’s looking + every bit as old as her mother, for that’s what she wishes to do, that’s + what she tries for, what she talks, dresses, eats, drinks, goes to + indecent plays and laughs for. Yes, we manage it through precocity, and + the new-rich American parent has achieved at least one new thing under the + sun, namely, the corruption of the child.” + </p> + <p> + My ladies silently consulted each other’s expressions, after which, in + equal silence, their gaze returned to me; but their equally intent + scrutiny was expressive of quite different things. It was with expectancy + that Mrs. Gregory looked at me—she wanted more. Not so Mrs. + Weguelin; she gave me disapproval; it was shadowed in her beautiful, + lustrous eyes that burned dark in her white face with as much fire as that + of youth, yet it was not of youth, being deeply charged with + retrospection. + </p> + <p> + In what, then, had I sinned? For the little lady’s next words, coldly + murmured, increased in me an uneasiness, as of sin:— + </p> + <p> + “You have told us much that we are not accustomed to hear in Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I haven’t begun to tell you!” I exclaimed cheerily. + </p> + <p> + “You certainly have not told us,” said Mrs. Gregory, “how your ‘precocity’ + escapes this divorce degradation.” + </p> + <p> + “Escape it? Those people think it is—well, provincial—not to + have been divorced at least once!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory opened her eyes, but Mrs. Weguelin shut her lips. + </p> + <p> + I continued: “Even the children, for their own little reasons, like it. + Only last summer, in Newport, a young boy was asked how he enjoyed having + a father and an ex-father.” + </p> + <p> + “Ex-father!” said Mrs. Gregory. “Vice-father is what I should call him.” + </p> + <p> + “Maria!” murmured Mrs. Weguelin, “how can you jest upon such topics?” + </p> + <p> + “I am far from jesting, Julia. Well, young gentleman, and what answer did + this precious Newport child make?” + </p> + <p> + “He said (if you will pardon my giving you his little sentiment in his own + quite expressive idiom), ‘Me for two fathers! Double money birthdays and + Christmases. See?’ That was how he saw divorce.” + </p> + <p> + Once again my ladies consulted each other’s expressions; we moved along + High Walk in such silence that I heard the stiff little rustle which the + palmettos were making across the street; even these trees, you might have + supposed, were whispering together over the horrors that I had recited in + their decorous presence. + </p> + <p> + It was Mrs. Gregory who next spoke. “I can translate that last boy’s + language, but what did the other boy mean about a ‘raid on Steel + Preferred’—if I’ve got the jargon right?” + </p> + <p> + While I translated this for her, I felt again the disapproval in Mrs. + Weguelin’s dark eyes; and my sins—for they were twofold—were + presently made clear to me by this lady. + </p> + <p> + “Are such subjects as—as stocks” (she softly cloaked this word in + scorn immeasurable)—“are such subjects mentioned in your good + society at the North?” + </p> + <p> + I laughed heartily. “Everything’s mentioned!” + </p> + <p> + The lady paused over my reply. “I am afraid you must feel us to be very + old-fashioned in, Kings Port,” she then said. + </p> + <p> + “But I rejoice in it!” + </p> + <p> + She ignored my not wholly dexterous compliment. “And some subjects,” she + pursued, “seem to us so grave that if we permit ourselves to speak of them + at all we cannot speak of them lightly.” + </p> + <p> + No, they couldn’t speak of them lightly! Here, then, stood my two sins + revealed; everything I had imparted, and also my tone of imparting it, had + displeased Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael, not with the thing, but with me. I + had transgressed her sound old American code of good manners, a code + slightly pompous no doubt, but one in which no familiarity was allowed to + breed contempt. To her good taste, there were things in the world which + had, apparently, to exist, but which one banished from drawing-room + discussion as one conceals from sight the kitchen and outhouses; one dealt + with them only when necessity compelled, and never in small-talk; and here + had I been, so to speak, small-talking them in that glib, modern, + irresponsible cadence with which our brazen age rings and clatters like + the beating of triangles and gongs. Not triangles and gongs, but rather + strings and flutes, had been the music to which Kings Port society had + attuned its measured voice. + </p> + <p> + I saw it all, and even saw that my own dramatic sense of Mrs. Weguelin’s + dignity had perversely moved me to be more flippant than I actually felt; + and I promised myself that a more chastened tone should forthwith redeem + me from the false position I had got into. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said Mrs. Gregory to Mrs. Weguelin, “we must ask him to excuse + our provincialism.” + </p> + <p> + For the second time I was not wholly dexterous. “But I like it so much!” I + exclaimed; and both ladies laughed frankly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory brought in a fable. “You’ll find us all ‘country mice’ here.” + </p> + <p> + This time I was happy. “At least, then, there’ll be no cat!” And this + caused us all to make little bows. + </p> + <p> + But the word “cat” fell into our talk as does a drop of some acid into a + chemical solution, instantly changing the whole to an unexpected new + color. The unexpected new color was, in this instance, merely what had + been latently lurking in the fluid of our consciousness all through and + now it suddenly came out. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory stared over the parapet at the harbor. “I wonder if anybody + has visited that steam yacht?” + </p> + <p> + “The Hermana?” I said. “She’s waiting, I believe, for her owner, who is + enjoying himself very much on land.” It was a strong temptation to add, + “enjoying himself with the cat,” but I resisted it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Mrs. Gregory. “Possibly a friend of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Even his name is unknown to me. But I gather that he may be coming to + Kings Port—to attend Mr. John Mayrant’s wedding next Wednesday + week.” + </p> + <p> + I hadn’t gathered this; but one is at times driven to improvising. I + wished so much to know if Juno was right about the engagement being + broken, and I looked hard at the ladies as my words fairly grazed the + “cat.” This time I expected them to consult each other’s expressions, and + such, indeed, was their immediate proceeding. + </p> + <p> + “The Wednesday following, you mean,” Mrs. Weguelin corrected. + </p> + <p> + “Postponed again? Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory spoke this time. “General Rieppe. Less well again, it seems.” + </p> + <p> + It would be like Juno to magnify a delay into a rupture. Then I had a + hilarious thought, which I instantly put to the ladies. “If the poor + General were to die completely, would the wedding be postponed + completely?” + </p> + <p> + “There would not be the slightest chance of that,” Mrs. Gregory declared. + And then she pronounced a sentence that was truly oracular: “She’s coming + at once to see for herself.” + </p> + <p> + To which Mrs. Weguelin added with deeper condemnation than she had so far + employed at all: “There is a rumor that she is actually coming in an + automobile.” + </p> + <p> + My silence upon these two remarks was the silence of great and sudden + interest; but it led Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael to do my perceptions a + slight injustice, and she had no intention that I should miss the quality + of her opinion regarding the vehicle in which Hortense was reported to be + travelling. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Rieppe has the extraordinary taste to come here in an automobile,” + said Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael, with deepened severity. + </p> + <p> + Though I understood quite well, without this emphasizing, that the little + lady would, with her unbending traditions, probably think it more + respectable to approach Kings Port in a wheelbarrow, I was absorbed by the + vague but copious import of Mrs. Gregory’s announcement. The oracles, + moreover, continued. + </p> + <p> + “But she is undoubtedly very clever to come and see for herself,” was Mrs. + Weguelin’s next comment. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory’s face, as she replied to her companion, took on a censorious + and superior expression. “You’ll remember, Julia, that I told Josephine + St. Michael it was what they had to expect.” + </p> + <p> + “But it was not Josephine, my dear, who at any time approved of taking + such a course. It was Eliza’s whole doing.” + </p> + <p> + It was fairly raining oracles round me, and they quite resembled, for all + the help and light they contained, their Delphic predecessors. + </p> + <p> + “And yet Eliza,” said Mrs. Gregory, “in the face of it, this very morning, + repeated her eternal assertion that we shall all see the marriage will not + take place.” + </p> + <p> + “Eliza,” murmured Mrs. Weguelin, “rates few things more highly than her + own judgment.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory mused. “Yet she is often right when she has no right to be + right.” + </p> + <p> + I could not bear it any longer, and I said, “I heard to-day that Miss + Rieppe had broken her engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “And where did you hear that nonsense?” asked Mrs. Gregory. + </p> + <p> + My heart leaped, and I told her where. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well! you will hear anything in a boarding-house. Indeed, that would + be a great deal too good to be true.” + </p> + <p> + “May I ask where Miss Rieppe is all this while?” + </p> + <p> + “The last news was from Palm Beach, where the air was said to be necessary + for the General.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” Mrs. Weguelin repeated, “we have every reason to believe that she + is coming here in an automobile.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to call, of course,” added Mrs. Gregory to her, not to me; + they were leaving me out of it. Yes, these ladies were forgetting about me + in their using preoccupation over whatever crisis it was that now hung + over John Mayrant’s love affairs—a preoccupation which was evidently + part of Kings Port’s universal buzz to-day, and which my joining them in + the street had merely mitigated for a moment. I did not wish to be left + out of it; I cannot tell you why—perhaps it was contagious in the + local air—but a veritable madness of craving to know about it seized + upon me. Of course, I saw that Miss Rieppe was, almost too grossly and + obviously, “playing for time”; the health of people’s fathers did not + cause weekly extensions of this sort. But what was it that the young lady + expected time to effect for her? Her release, formally, by her young man, + on the ground of his worldly ill fortune? Or was it for an offer from the + owner of the Hermana that she was waiting, before she should take the step + of formally releasing John Mayrant? No, neither of these conjectures + seemed to furnish a key to the tactics of Miss Rieppe and the theory that + each of these affianced parties was strategizing to cause the other to + assume the odium of breaking their engagement, with no result save that of + repeatedly countermanding a wedding-cake, struck me as belonging admirably + to a stage-comedy in three acts, but scarcely to life as we find it. + Besides, poor John Mayrant was, all too plainly, not strategizing; he was + playing as straight a game as the honest heart of a gentleman could + inspire. And so, baffled at all points, I said (for I simply had to try + something which might lead to my sharing in Kings Port’s vibrating + secret):— + </p> + <p> + “I can’t make out whether she wants to marry him or not.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory answered. “That is just what she is coming to see for + herself.” + </p> + <p> + “But since her love was for his phosphates only—!” was my natural + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + It caused (and this time I did not expect it) my inveterate ladies to + consult each other’s expressions. They prolonged their silence so much + that I spoke again:— + </p> + <p> + “And backing out of this sort of thing can be done, I should think, quite + as cleverly, and much more simply, from a distance.” + </p> + <p> + It was Mrs. Weguelin who answered now, or, rather, who headed me off. + “Have you been able to make out whether he wants to marry her or not?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he never comes near any of that with me!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. But we all understand that he has taken a fancy to you, + and that you have talked much with him.” + </p> + <p> + So they all understood this, did they? This, too, had played its little + special part in the buzz? Very well, then, nothing of my private + impressions should drop from my lips here, to be quoted and misquoted and + battledored and shuttlecocked, until it reached the boy himself (as it + would inevitably) in fantastic disarrangement. I laughed. “Oh, yes! I have + talked much with him. Shakespeare, I think, was our latest subject.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin was plainly watching for something to drop. “Shakespeare!” + Her tone was of surprise. + </p> + <p> + I then indulged myself in that most delightful sort of impertinence, which + consists in the other person’s not seeing it. “You wouldn’t be likely to + have heard of that yet. It occurred only before dinner to-day. But we have + also talked optimism, pessimism, sociology, evolution—Mr. Mayrant + would soon become quite—” I stopped myself on the edge of something + very clumsy. + </p> + <p> + But sharp Mrs. Gregory finished for me. “Yes, you mean that if he didn’t + live in Kings Port (where we still have reverence, at any rate), he fit + would imbibe all the shallow quackeries of the hour and resemble all the + clever young donkeys of the minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Maria!” Mrs. Weguelin murmurously expostulated. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory immediately made me a handsome but equivocal apology. “I + wasn’t thinking of you at all!” she declared gayly; and it set me doubting + if perhaps she hadn’t, after all, comprehended my impertinence. “And, + thank Heaven!” she continued, “John is one of us, in spite of his present + stubborn course.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Weguelin’s beautiful eyes were resting upon me with that + disapproval I had come to know. To her, sociology and evolution and all + “isms” were new-fangled inventions and murky with offense; to touch them + was defilement, and in disclosing them to John Mayrant I was a corrupter + of youth. She gathered it all up into a word that was radiant with a kind + of lovely maternal gentleness:— + </p> + <p> + “We should not wish John to become radical.” + </p> + <p> + In her voice, the whole of old Kings Port was enshrined: hereditary faith + and hereditary standards, mellow with the adherence of generations past, + and solicitous for the boy of the young generation. I saw her eyes soften + at the thought of him; and throughout the rest of our talk to its end her + gaze would now and then return to me, shadowed with disapproval. + </p> + <p> + I addressed Mrs. Gregory. “By his ‘present stubborn course’ I suppose you + mean the Custom House.” + </p> + <p> + “All of us deplore his obstinacy. His Aunt Eliza has strongly but vainly + expostulated with him. And after that, Miss Josephine felt obliged to tell + him that he need not come to see her again until he resigned a position + which reflects ignominy upon us all.” + </p> + <p> + I suppressed a whistle. I thought (as I have said earlier) that I had + caught a full vision of John Mayrant’s present plight. But my imagination + had not soared to the height of Miss Josephine St. Michael’s act of + discipline. This, it must have been, that the boy had checked himself from + telling me in the churchyard. What a character of sterner times was Miss + Josephine! I thought of Aunt Carola, but even she was not quite of this + iron, and I said so to Mrs. Gregory. “I doubt if there be any old lady + left in the North,” I said, “capable of such antique severity.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Gregory opened my eyes still further. “Oh, you’d have them if you + had the negro to deal with as we have him. Miss Josephine,” she added, + “has to-day removed her sentence of banishment.” + </p> + <p> + I felt on the verge of new discoveries. “What!” I exclaimed, “and did she + relent?” + </p> + <p> + “New circumstances intervened,” Mrs. Gregory loftily explained. “There was + an occurrence—an encounter, in fact—in which John Mayrant + fittingly punished one who had presumed. Upon hearing of it, this morning, + Miss Josephine sent a message to John that he might resume visiting her. + </p> + <p> + “But that is perfectly grand!” I cried in my delight over Miss Josephine + as a character. + </p> + <p> + “It is perfectly natural,” returned Mrs. Gregory, quietly. “John has + behaved with credit throughout. He was at length made to see that + circumstances forbade any breach between his family and that of the other + young man. John held back—who would not, after such an insult?—but + Miss Josephine was firm, and he has promised to call and shake hands. My + cousin, Doctor Beaugarcon, assures me that the young man’s injuries are + trifling—a week will see him restored and presentable again.” + </p> + <p> + “A week? A mere nothing!” I answered “Do you know,” I now suggested, “that + you have forgotten to ask me what I was thinking about when we met?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, young gentleman! and was it so remarkable?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all, but it partly answers what Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael asked + me. If a young man does not really wish to marry a young woman there are + ways well known by which she can be brought to break the engagement.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Mrs. Gregory, “of course; gayeties and irregularities—” + </p> + <p> + “That is, if he’s not above them,” I hastily subjoined. + </p> + <p> + “Not always, by any means,” Mrs. Gregory returned. “Kings Port has been + treated to some episodes—” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin put in a word of defence. “It is to be said, Maria, that + John’s irregularities have invariably been conducted with perfect + propriety.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Mrs. Gregory, “no Mayrant was ever known to be gross!” + </p> + <p> + “But this particular young lady,” said Mrs. Weguelin, “would not be + estranged by an masculine irregularities and gayeties. Not many.” + </p> + <p> + “How about infidelities?” I suggested. “If he should flagrantly lose his + heart to another?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin replied quickly. “That answers very well where hearts are in + question.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said I, “since phosphates are no longer—?” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. “It would be a new dilemma,” Mrs. Gregory then said + slowly, “if she turned out to care for him, after all.” + </p> + <p> + Throughout all this I was getting more and more the sense of how a total + circle of people, a well-filled, wide circle of interested people, + surrounded and cherished John Mayrant, made itself the setting of which he + was the jewel; I felt in it, even stronger than the manifestation of + personal affection (which certainly was strong enough), a collective sense + of possession in him, a clan value, a pride and a guardianship + concentrated and jealous, as of an heir to some princely estate, who must + be worthy for the sake of a community even before he was worthy for his + own sake. Thus he might amuse himself—it was in the code that + princely heirs so should pour se deniaiser, as they neatly put it in Paris—thus + might he and must he fight when his dignity was assailed; but thus might + he not marry outside certain lines prescribed, or depart from his circle’s + established creeds, divine and social, especially to hold any position + which (to borrow Mrs. Gregory’s phrase) “reflected ignominy” upon them + all. When he transgressed, their very value for him turned them bitter + against him. I know that all of us are more or less chained to our + community, which is pleased to expect us to walk its way, and mightily + displeased when we please ourselves instead by breaking the chain and + walking our own way; and I know that we are forgiven very slowly; but I + had not dreamed what a prisoner to communal criticism a young American + could be until I beheld Kings Port over John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + And to what estate was this prince heir? Alas, his inheritance was all of + it the Past and none of it the Future; was the full churchyard and the + empty wharves! He was paying dear for his princedom! And then, there was + yet another sense of this beautiful town that I got here completely, + suddenly crystallized, though slowly gathering ever since my arrival: all + these old people were clustered about one young one. That was it; that was + the town’s ultimate tragic note: the old timber of the forest dying and + the too sparse new growth appearing scantily amid the tall, fine, + venerable, decaying trunks. It had been by no razing to the ground and + sowing with salt that the city had perished; a process less violent but + more sad had done away with it. Youth, in the wake of commerce, had ebbed + from Kings Port, had flowed out from the silent, mourning houses, and + sought life North and West, and wherever else life was to be found. Into + my revery floated a phrase from a melodious and once favorite song: O + tempo passato perche non ritorni? + </p> + <p> + And John Mayrant? Why, then, had he tarried here himself? That is a hard + saying about crabbed age and youth, but are not most of the sayings hard + that are true? What was this young man doing in Kings Port with his + brains, and his pride, and his energetic adolescence? If the Custom House + galled him, the whole country was open to him; why not have tried his + fortune out and away, over the hills, where the new cities lie, all full + of future and empty of past? Was it much to the credit of such a young man + to find himself at the age of twenty-three or twenty-four, sound and lithe + of limb, yet tied to the apron strings of Miss Josephine, and Miss Eliza, + and some thirty or forty other elderly female relatives? + </p> + <p> + With these thoughts I looked at the ladies and wondered how I might lead + them to answer me about John Mayrant, without asking questions which might + imply something derogatory to him or painful to them. I could not ever say + to them a word which might mean, however indirectly, that I thought their + beautiful, cherished town no place for a young man to go to seed in; this + cut so close to the quick of truth that discourse must keep wide away from + it. What, then, could I ask them? As I pondered, Mrs. Weguelin solved it + for me by what she was saying to Mrs. Gregory, of which, in my + preoccupation, I had evidently missed a part:— + </p> + <p> + “—if he should share the family bad taste in wives.” + </p> + <p> + “Eliza says she has no fear of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Were I Eliza, Hugh’s performance would make me very uneasy.” + </p> + <p> + “Julia, John does not resemble Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Very decidedly, in coloring, Maria.” + </p> + <p> + “And Hugh found that girl in Minneapolis, Julia, where there was doubtless + no pick for the poor fellow. And remember that George chose a lady, at any + rate.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin gave to this a short assent. “Yes.” It portended something + more behind, which her next words duly revealed. “A lady; but do—any—ladies + ever seem quite like our own? + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, Julia.” + </p> + <p> + You see, they were forgetting me again; but they had furnished me with a + clue. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. John Mayrant has married brothers?” + </p> + <p> + “Two,” Mrs. Gregory responded. “John is the youngest of three children.” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn’t heard of the brothers before.” + </p> + <p> + “They seldom come here. They saw fit to leave their home and their + delicate mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “But John,” said Mrs. Gregory, “met his responsibility like a Mayrant.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever temptations he has yielded to,” said Mrs. Weguelin, “his filial + piety has stood proof.” + </p> + <p> + “He refused,” added Mrs. Gregory, “when George (and I have never + understood how George could be so forgetful of their mother) wrote twice, + offering him a lucrative and rising position in the railroad company at + Roanoke.” + </p> + <p> + “That was hard!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She totally misapplied my sympathy. “Oh, Anna Mayrant,” she corrected + herself, “John’s mother, Mrs. Hector Mayrant, had harder things than + forgetful sons to bear! I’ve not laid eyes on those boys since the + funeral.” + </p> + <p> + “Nearly two years,” murmured Mrs. Weguelin. And then, to me, with + something that was almost like a strange severity beneath her gentle tone: + “Therefore we are proud of John, because the better traits in his nature + remind us of his forefathers, whom we knew.” + </p> + <p> + “In Kings Port,” said Mrs. Gregory, “we prize those who ring true to the + blood.” + </p> + <p> + By way of response to this sentiment, I quoted some French to her. “Bon + chien chasse de race.” + </p> + <p> + It pleased Mrs. Weguelin. Her guarded attitude toward me relented. “John + mentioned your cultivation to us,” she said. “In these tumble-down days it + is rare to meet with one who still lives, mentally, on the gentlefolks’ + plane—the piano nobile of intelligence!” + </p> + <p> + I realized how high a compliment she was paying me, and I repaid it with a + joke. “Take care. Those who don’t live there would call it the piano + snobile.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” cried the delighted lady, “they’d never have the wit!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever hear,” I continued, “the Bostonian’s remark—‘The + mission of America is to vulgarize the world’?” + </p> + <p> + “I never expected to agree so totally with a Bostonian!” declared Mrs. + Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing so hopeful,” I pursued, “has ever been said of us. For refinement + and thoroughness and tradition delay progress, and we are sweeping them + out of the road as fast as we can.” + </p> + <p> + “Come away, Julia,” said Mrs. Gregory. “The young gentleman is getting + flippant again, and we leave him.” + </p> + <p> + The ladies, after gracious expressions concerning the pleasure of their + stroll, descended the steps at the north end of High Walk, where the + parapet stops, and turned inland from the water through a little street. I + watched them until they went out of my sight round a corner; but the two + silent, leisurely figures, moving in their black and their veils along an + empty highway, come back to me often in the pictures of my thoughts; come + back most often, indeed, as the human part of what my memory sees when it + turns to look at Kings Port. For, first, it sees the blue frame of quiet + sunny water, and the white town within its frame beneath the clear, + untainted air; and then it sees the high-slanted roofs, red with their old + corrugated tiles, and the tops of leafy enclosures dipping below sight + among quaint and huddled quadrangles; and, next, the quiet houses standing + in their separate grounds, their narrow ends to the street and their long, + two-storied galleries open to the south, but their hushed windows closed + as if against the prying, restless Present that must not look in and + disturb the motionless memories which sit brooding behind these shutters; + and between all these silent mansions lie the narrow streets, the quiet, + empty streets, along which, as my memory watches them, pass the two ladies + silently, in their black and their veils, moving between high, + mellow-colored garden walls over whose tops look the oleanders, the + climbing roses, and all the taller flowers of the gardens. + </p> + <p> + And if Mrs. Gregory and Mrs. Weguelin seemed to me at moments as narrow as + those streets, they also seemed to me as lovely as those serene gardens; + and if I had smiled at their prejudices, I had loved their innocence, + their deep innocence, of the poisoned age which has succeeded their own; + and if I had wondered this day at their powers for cruelty, I wondered the + next day at the glimpse I had of their kindness. For during a pelting cold + rainstorm, as I sat and shivered in a Royal Street car, waiting for it to + start upon its north-bound course, the house-door opposite which we stood + at the end of the track opened, and Mrs. Weguelin’s head appeared, nodding + to the conductor as she sent her black servant out with hot coffee for + him! He took off his hat, and smiled, and thanked her; and when we had + started and I, the sole passenger in the chilly car, asked him about this, + he said with native pride: “The ladies always watches out for us + conductors in stormy weather, sir. That’s Mistress Weguelin St. Michael, + one of our finest.” And then he gave me careful directions how to find a + shop that I was seeking. + </p> + <p> + Think of this happening in New York! Think of the aristocracy of that + metropolis warming up with coffee the—but why think of it, or of a + New York conductor answering your questions with careful directions! It is + not New York’s fault, it is merely New York’s misfortune: New York is in a + hurry; and a world of haste cannot be a world either of courtesy or of + kindness. But we have progress, progress, instead; and that is a + tremendous consolation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI: Daddy Ben and His Seed + </h2> + <h3> + But what was Hortense Rieppe coming to see for herself? + </h3> + <p> + Many dark things had been made plain to me by my talk with the two ladies; + yet while disclosing so much, they had still left this important matter in + shadow. I was very glad, however, for what they had revealed. They had + showed me more of John Mayrant’s character, and more also of the destiny + which had shaped his ends, so that my esteem for him had increased; for + some of the words that they had exchanged shone like bright lanterns down + into his nature upon strength and beauty lying quietly there—young + strength and beauty, yet already tempered by manly sacrifice. I saw how it + came to pass through this, through renunciation of his own desires, + through performance of duties which had fallen upon him not quite fairly, + that the eye of his spirit had been turned away from self; thus had it + grown strong-sighted and able to look far and deep, as his speech + sometimes revealed, while still his flesh was of his youthful age, and no + saint’s flesh either. This had the ladies taught me during the fluttered + interchange of their reminders and opinions, and by their eager agreements + and disagreements, I was also grateful to them in that I could once more + correct Juno. The pleasure should be mine to tell them in the public + hearing of our table that Miss Rieppe was still engaged to John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + But what was this interesting girl coming to see for herself? + </p> + <p> + This little hole in my knowledge gave me discomfort as I walked along + toward the antiquity shop where I was to buy the other kettle-supporter. + The ladies, with all their freedom of comment and censure, had kept + something from me. I reviewed, I pieced together, their various remarks, + those oracles, especially, which they had let fall, but it all came back + to the same thing. I did not know, and they did, what Hortense Rieppe was + coming to see for herself. At all events, the engagement was not broken, + the chance to be instrumental in having it broken was still mine; I might + still save John Mayrant from his deplorable quixotism; and as this + reflection grew with me I took increasing comfort in it, and I stepped + onward toward my kettle-supporter, filled with that sense of moral + well-being which will steal over even the humblest of us when we feel that + we are beneficently minding somebody else’s business. + </p> + <p> + Whenever the arrangement did not take me too widely from my course, I so + mapped out my walks and errands in Kings Port that I might pass by the + churchyard and church at the corner of Court and Worship streets. Even if + I did not indulge myself by turning in to stroll and loiter among the + flowers, it was enough pleasure to walk by that brick-wall. If you are + willing to wander curiously in our old towns, you may still find in many + of them good brick walls standing undisturbed, and equal in their color + and simple excellence to those of Kings Port; but fashion has pushed these + others out of its sight, among back streets and all sorts of forgotten + purlieus and abandoned dignity, and takes its walks to-day amid cold, + expensive ugliness; while the old brick walls of Kings Port continually + frame your steps with charm. No one workman famous for his skill built + them so well proportioned, so true to comeliness; it was the general hand + of their age that could shape nothing wrong, as the hand of to-day can + shape nothing right, save by a rigid following of the old. + </p> + <p> + I gave myself the pleasure this afternoon of walking by the churchyard + wall; and when I reached the iron gate, there was Daddy Ben. So full was I + of my thoughts concerning John Mayrant, and the vicissitudes of his heart, + and the Custom House, that I was moved to have words with the old man upon + the general topic. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I said, “and so Mr. John is going to be married.” + </p> + <p> + No attempt to start a chat ever failed more signally. He assented with a + manner of mingled civility and reserve that was perfection, and after the + two syllables of which his answer consisted, he remained as impenetrably + respectful as before. I felt rather high and dry, but I tried it again:— + </p> + <p> + “And I’m sure, Daddy Ben, that you feel as sorry as any of the family that + the phosphates failed.” + </p> + <p> + Again he replied with his two syllables of assent, and again he stood + mute, respectful, a little bent with his great age; but now his good + manners—and better manners were never seen—impelled him to + break silence upon some subject, since he would not permit himself to + speak concerning the one which I had introduced. It was the phosphates + which inspired him. + </p> + <p> + “Dey is mighty fine prostrate wukks heah, sah.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’ve been told so, Daddy Ben.” + </p> + <p> + “On dis side up de ribber an’ tudder side down de ribber ‘cross de new + bridge. Wuth visitin’ fo’ strangers, sah.” + </p> + <p> + I now felt entirely high and dry. I had attempted to enter into + conversation with him about the intimate affairs of a family to which he + felt that he belonged; and with perfect tact he had not only declined to + discuss them with me, but had delicately informed me that I was a stranger + and as such had better visit the phosphate works among the other sights of + Kings Port. No diplomat could have done it better; and as I walled away + from him I knew that he regarded me as an outsider, a Northerner, + belonging to a race hostile to his people; he had seen Mas’ John friendly + with me, but that was Mas’ John’s affair. And so it was that if the ladies + had kept something from me, this cunning, old, polite, coal-black African + had kept everything from me. + </p> + <p> + If all the negroes in Kings Port were like Daddy Ben, Mrs. Gregory St. + Michael would not have spoken of having them “to deal with,” and the girl + behind the counter would not have been thrown into such indignation when + she alluded to their conceit and ignorance. Daddy Ben had, so far from + being puffed up by the appointment in the Custom House, disapproved of + this. I had heard enough about the difference between the old and new + generations of the negro of Kings Port to believe it to be true, and I had + come to discern how evidently it lay at the bottom of many things here: + John Mayrant and his kind were a band united by a number of strong ties, + but by nothing so much as by their hatred of the modern negro in their + town. Yes, I was obliged to believe that the young Kings Port African left + to freedom and the ballot, was a worse African than his slave parents; but + this afternoon brought me a taste of it more pungent than all the + assurances in the world. + </p> + <p> + I bought my kettle-supporter, and learned from the robber who sold it to + me (Kings Port prices for “old things” are the most exorbitant that I know + anywhere) that a carpenter lived not far from Mrs. Trevise’s + boarding-house, and that he would make for me the box in which I could + pack my various purchases. + </p> + <p> + “That is, if he’s working this week,” added the robber. + </p> + <p> + “What else would he be doing?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be his week for getting drunk on what he earned the week before.” + And upon this he announced with as much bitterness as if he had been John + Mayrant or any of his aunts, “That’s what Boston philanthropy has done for + him.” + </p> + <p> + I dared up at this. “I suppose that’s a Southern argument for + reestablishing slavery.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not Southern; Breslau is my native town, and I came from New York + here to live five years ago. I’ve seen what your emancipation has done for + the black, and I say to you, my friend, honest I don’t know a fool from a + philanthropist any longer.” + </p> + <p> + He had much right upon his side; and it can be seen daily that + philanthropy does not always walk hand-in-hand with wisdom. Does anything + or anybody always walk so? Moreover, I am a friend to not many + superlatives, and have perceived no saying to be more true than the one + that extremes meet: they meet indeed, and folly is their meeting-place. + Nor could I say in the case of the negro which folly were the more + ridiculous;—that which expects a race which has lived no one knows + how many thousand years in mental nakedness while Confucius, Moses, and + Napoleon were flowering upon adjacent human stems, should put on suddenly + the white man’s intelligence, or that other folly which declares we can do + nothing for the African, as if Hampton had not already wrought excellent + things for him. I had no mind to enter into all the inextricable error + with this Teuton, and it was he who continued:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, these Boston philanthropists; oh, these know-it-alls! Why don’t they + stay home? Why do they come down here to worry us with their ignorance? + See here, my friend, let me show you!” + </p> + <p> + He rushed about his shop in a search of distraught eagerness, and with a + multitude of small exclamations, until, screeching jubilantly once, he + pounced upon a shabby and learned-looking volume. This he brought me, + thrusting it with his trembling fingers between my own, and shuffling the + open pages. But when the apparently right one was found, he exclaimed, + “No, I have better! and dashed away to a pile of pamphlets on the floor, + where he began to plough and harrow. Wondering if I was closeted with a + maniac, I looked at the book in my passive hand, and saw diagrams of + various bones to me unknown, and men’s names of which I was equally + ignorant—Mivart, Topinard, and more,—but at last that of + Huxley. But this agreeable sight was spoiled at once by the quite horrible + words Nycticebidoe, platyrrhine, catarrhine, from which I raised my eyes + to see him coming at me with two pamphlets, and scolding as he came. + </p> + <p> + “Are you educated, yes? Have been to college, yes? Then perhaps you will + understand.” + </p> + <p> + Certainly I understood immediately that he and his pamphlets were as bad + as the book, or worse, in their use of a vocabulary designed to cause + almost any listener the gravest inconvenience. Common Eocene ancestors + occurred at the beginning of his lecture; and I believed that if it got no + stronger than this, I could at least preserve the appearance of + comprehending him; but it got stronger, and at sacro-iliac notch I may + say, without using any grossly exaggerated expression, that I became + unconscious. At least, all intelligence left me. When it returned, he was + saying.— + </p> + <p> + “But this is only the beginning. Come in here to my crania and jaws.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently he held me hypnotized, for he now hurried me unresisting through + a back door into a dark little where he turned up the gas, and I saw + shelves as in a museum, to one of which he led me. I suppose that it was + curiosity that rendered me thus sheep-like. Upon the shelf were a number + of skulls and jaws in admirable condition and graded arrangement, + beginning to the left with that flat kind of skull which one associates + with gorillas. He resumed his scolding harangue, and for a few brief + moments I understood him. Here, told by themselves, was as much of the + story of the skulls as we know, from manlike apes through glacial man to + the modern senator or railroad president. But my intelligence was destined + soon to die away again. + </p> + <p> + “That is the Caucasian skull: your skull,” he said, touching a specimen at + the right. + </p> + <p> + “Interesting,” I murmured. “I’m afraid I know nothing about skulls.” + </p> + <p> + “But you shall know someding before you leave,” he retorted, wagging his + head at me; and this time it was not the book, but a specimen, that he + pushed into my grasp. He gave it a name, not as bad as platyrrhine, but I + feared worse was coming; then he took it away from me, gave me another + skull, and while I obediently held it, pronounced something quite beyond + me. + </p> + <p> + “And what is the translation of that?” he demanded excitedly. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” I feebly answered. + </p> + <p> + He shouted with overweening triumph: “The translation of that is South + Carolina nigger. Notice well this so egcellent specimen. Prognathous, + megadont, platyrrhine.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Platyrrhine!” I saluted the one word I recognized as I drowned. + </p> + <p> + “You have said it yourself!” was his extraordinary answer;—for what + had I said? Almost as if he were going to break into a dance for joy, he + took the Caucasian skull and the other two, and set the three together by + themselves, away from the rest of the collection. The picture which they + thus made spoke more than all the measurements and statistics which he now + chattered out upon me, reading from his book as I contemplated the skulls. + There was a similarity of shape, a kinship there between the three, which + stared you in the face; but in the contours of vaulted skull, the + projecting jaws, and the great molar teeth—what was to be seen? Why, + in every respect that the African departed from the Caucasian, he departed + in the direction of the ape! Here was zoology mutely but eloquently + telling us why there had blossomed no Confucius, no Moses, no Napoleon, + upon that black stem; why no Iliad, no Parthenon, no Sistine Madonna, had + ever risen from that tropic mud. + </p> + <p> + The collector touched my sleeve. “Have you now learned someding about + skulls, my friend? Will you invite those Boston philanthropists to stay + home? They will get better results in civilization by giving votes to + monkeys than teaching Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to riggers.” + </p> + <p> + Retaliation rose in me. “Haven’t you learned to call them negroes?” I + remarked. But this was lost upon the Teuton. I was tempted to tell him + that I was no philanthropist, and no Bostonian, and that he need not shout + so loud, but my more dignified instincts restrained me. I withdrew my + sleeve from his touch (it was this act of his, I think, that had most to + do with my displeasure), and merely bidding him observe that the enormous + price of the kettle-supporter had been reduced for me by his exhibition to + a bagatelle, I left the shop of the screaming anatomist—or Afropath, + or whatever it may seem most fitting that he should be called. + </p> + <p> + I bore the kettle-supporter with me, tied up objectionably in newspaper, + and knotted with ungainly string; and it was this bundle which prevented + my joining the girl behind the counter, and ending by a walk with a young + lady the afternoon that had begun by a walk with two old ones. I should + have liked to make my confession to her. She was evidently out for the + sake of taking the air, and had with her no companion save the big curly + white dog; confession would have been very agreeable; but I looked again + at my ugly newspaper bundle, and turned in a direction that she was not + herself pursuing. + </p> + <p> + Twice, as I went, I broke into laughter over my interview in the shop, + which I fear has lost its comical quality in the relating. To enter a door + and come serenely in among dingy mahogany and glass objects, to bargain + haughtily for a brass bauble with the shopkeeper, and to have a few + exchanged remarks suddenly turn the whole place into a sort of bedlam with + a gibbering scientist dashing skulls at me to prove his fixed idea, and + myself quite furious—I laughed more than twice; but, by the time I + had approached the neighborhood of the carpenter’s shop, another side of + it had brought reflection to my mind. Here was a foreigner to whom slavery + and the Lost Cause were nothing, whose whole association with the South + had begun but five years ago; and the race question had brought his + feelings to this pitch! He had seen the Kings Port negro with the eyes of + the flesh, and not with the eyes of theory, and as a result the reddest + rag for him was pale beside a Boston philanthropist! + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, I have said already that I am no lover of superlatives, and + in doctrine especially is this true. We need not expect a Confucius from + the negro, nor yet a Chesterfield; but I am an enemy also of that blind + and base hate against him, which conducts nowhere save to the + de-civilizing of white and black alike. Who brought him here? Did he + invite himself? Then let us make the best of it and teach him, lead him, + compel him to live self-respecting, not as statesman, poet, or financier, + but by the honorable toil of his hand and sweat of his brow. Because “the + door of hope” was once opened too suddenly for him is no reason for + slamming it now forever in his face. + </p> + <p> + Thus mentally I lectured back at the Teuton as I went through the streets + of Kings Port; and after a while I turned a corner which took me abruptly, + as with one magic step, out of the white man’s world into the blackest + Congo. Even the well-inhabited quarter of Kings Port (and I had now come + within this limited domain) holds narrow lanes and recesses which teem and + swarm with negroes. As cracks will run through fine porcelain, so do these + black rifts of Africa lurk almost invisible among the gardens and the + houses. The picture that these places offered, tropic, squalid, and + fecund, often caused me to walk through them and watch the basking + population; the intricate, broken wooden galleries, the rickety outside + stair cases, the red and yellow splashes of color on the clothes lines, + the agglomerate rags that stuffed holes in decaying roofs or hung nakedly + on human frames, the small, choked dwellings, bursting open at doors and + windows with black, round-eyed babies as an overripe melon bursts with + seeds, the children playing marbles in the court, the parents playing + cards in the room, the grandparents smoking pipes on the porch, and the + great-grandparents stairs gazing out at you like creatures from the Old + Testament or the jungle. From the jungle we had stolen them, North and + South had stolen them together, long ago, to be slaves, not to be + citizens, and now here they were, the fruits of our theft; and for some + reason (possibly the Teuton was the reason) that passage from the Book of + Exodus came into my head: “For I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, + visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children.” + </p> + <p> + These thoughts were interrupted by sounds as of altercation. I had nearly + reached the end of the lane, where I should again emerge into the White + man’s world, and where I was now walking the lane spread into a broader + space with ells and angles and rotting steps, and habitations mostly too + ruinous to be inhabited. It was from a sashless window in one of these + that the angry voices came. The first words which were distinct aroused my + interest quite beyond the scale of an ordinary altercation:— + </p> + <p> + “Calls you’self a reconstuckted niggah?” + </p> + <p> + This was said sharply and with prodigious scorn. The answer which it + brought was lengthy and of such a general sullen incoherence that I could + make out only a frequent repetition of “custom house,” and that somebody + was going to take care of somebody hereafter. + </p> + <p> + Into this the first voice broke with tones of highest contempt and + rapidity:— + </p> + <p> + “President gwine to gib brekfus’ an’ dinnah an suppah to de likes ob you + fo’ de whole remaindah oh youh wuthless nat’ral life? Get out ob my sight, + you reconstuckted niggah. I come out oh de St. Michael.” + </p> + <p> + There came through the window immediately upon this sounds of scuffling + and of a fall, and then cries for help which took me running into the + dilapidated building. Daddy Ben lay on the floor, and a thick, young + savage was kicking him. In some remarkable way I thought of the solidity + of their heads, and before the assailant even knew that he had a witness, + I sped forward, aiming my kettle-supporter, and with its sharp brass edge + I dealt him a crack over his shin with astonishing accuracy. It was a + dismal howl that he gave, and as he turned he got from me another crack + upon the other shin. I had no time to be alarmed at my deed, or I think + that I should have been very much so; I am a man above all of peace, and + physical encounters are peculiarly abhorrent to me; but, so far from + assailing me, the thick, young savage, with the single muttered remark, + “He hit me fuss,” got himself out of the house with the most agreeable + rapidity. + </p> + <p> + Daddy Ben sat up, and his first inquiry greatly reassured me as to his + state. He stared at my paper bundle. “You done make him hollah wid dat, + sah!” + </p> + <p> + I showed him the kettle-supporter through a rent in its wrapping, and I + assisted him to stand upright. His injuries proved fortunately to be + slight (although I may say here that the shock to his ancient body kept + him away for a few days from the churchyard), and when I began to talk to + him about the incident, he seemed unwilling to say much in answer to my + questions. And when I offered to accompany him to where he lived, he + declined altogether, assuring me that it was close, and that he could walk + there as well as if nothing had happened to him; but upon my asking him if + I was on the right way to the carpenter’s shop, he looked at me curiously. + </p> + <p> + “No use you gwine dab, sah. Dat shop close up. He not wukkin, dis week, + and dat why fo’ I jaw him jus’ now when you come in an’ stop him. He de + cahpentah, my gran’son, Cha’s Coteswuth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII: From the Bedside + </h2> + <p> + Next morning when I saw the weltering sky I resigned myself to a day of + dullness; yet before its end I had caught a bright new glimpse of John + Mayrant’s abilities, and also had come, through tribulation, to a further + understanding of the South; so that I do not, to-day, regret the + tribulation. As the rain disappointed me of two outdoor expeditions, to + which I had been for some little while looking forward, I dedicated most + of my long morning to a sadly neglected correspondence, and trusted that + the expeditions, as soon as the next fine weather visited Kings Port, + would still be in store for me. Not only everybody in town here, but Aunt + Carola, up in the North also, had assured me that to miss the sight of + Live Oaks when the azaleas in the gardens of that country seat were in + flower would be to lose one of the rarest and most beautiful things which + could be seen anywhere; and so I looked out of my window at the furious + storm, hoping that it might not strip the bushes at Live Oaks of their + bloom, which recent tourists at Mrs. Trevise’s had described as drawing + near the zenith of its luxuriance. The other excursion to Udolpho with + John Mayrant was not so likely to fall through. Udolpho was a sort of + hunting lodge or country club near Tern Creek and an old colonial church, + so old that it bore the royal arms upon a shield still preserved as a sign + of its colonial origin. A note from Mayrant, received at breakfast, + informed me that the rain would take all pleasure from such an excursion, + and that he should seize the earliest opportunity the weather might afford + to hold me to my promise. The wet gale, even as I sat writing, was beating + down some of the full-blown flowers in the garden next Mrs. Trevise’s + house, and as the morning wore on I watched the paths grow more strewn + with broken twigs and leaves. + </p> + <p> + I filled my correspondence with accounts of Daddy Ben and his grandson, + the carpenter, doubtless from some pride in my part in that, but also + because it had become, through thinking it over, even more interesting + to-day than it had been at the moment of its occurrence; and in replying + to a sort of postscript of Aunt Carola’s in which she hurriedly wrote that + she had forgotten to say she had heard the La Heu family in South Carolina + was related to the Bombos, and should be obliged to me if I would make + inquiries about this, I told her that it would be easy, and then described + to her the Teuton, plying his “antiquity” trade externally while + internally cherishing his collected skulls and nursing his scientific + rage. All my letters were the more abundant concerning these adventures of + mine from my having kept entirely silent upon them at Mrs. Trevise’s + tea-table. I dreaded Juno when let loose upon the negro question; and the + fact that I was beginning to understand her feelings did not at all make + me wish to be deafened by them. Neither Juno, therefore, nor any of them + learned a word from me about the kettle-supporter incident. What I did + take pains to inform the assembled company was my gratification that the + report of Mr. Mayrant’s engagement being broken was unfounded; and this + caused Juno to observe that in that case Miss Rieppe must have the most + imperative reasons for uniting herself to such a young man. + </p> + <p> + Unintimidated by the rain, this formidable creature had taken herself off + to her nephew’s bedside almost immediately after breakfast; and later in + the day I, too, risked a drenching for the sake of ordering the + packing-box that I needed. When I returned, it was close on tea-time; I + had seen Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael send out the hot coffee to the + conductor, and I had found a negro carpenter whose week it happily was to + stay sober; and now I learned that, when tea should be finished, the + poetess had in store for us, as a treat, her ode. + </p> + <p> + Our evening meal was not plain sailing, even for the veteran navigation of + Mrs. Trevise; Juno had returned from the bedside very plainly displeased + (she was always candid even when silent) by something which had happened + there; and before the joyful moment came when we all learned what this + was, a very gouty Boston lady who had arrived with her husband from + Florida on her way North—and whose nature you will readily grasp + when I tell you that we found ourselves speaking of the man as Mrs. + Braintree’s husband and never as Mr. Braintree—this crippled lady, + who was of a candor equal to Juno’s, embarked upon a conversation with + Juno that compelled Mrs. Trevise to tinkle her bell for Daphne after only + two remarks had been exchanged. + </p> + <p> + I had been sorry at first that here in this Southern boarding-house Boston + should be represented only by a lady who appeared to unite in herself all + the stony products of that city, and none of the others; for she was as + convivial as a statue and as well-informed as a spelling-book; she stood + no more for the whole of Boston than did Juno for the whole of Kings Port. + But my sorrow grew less when I found that in Mrs. Braintree we had indeed + a capable match for her Southern counterpart. Juno, according to her + custom, had remembered something objectionable that had been perpetrated + in 1865 by the Northern vandals. + </p> + <p> + “Edward,” said Mrs. Braintree to her husband, in a frightfully clear + voice, “it was at Chambersburg, was it not, that the Southern vandals + burned the house in which were your father’s title-deeds?” + </p> + <p> + Edward, who, it appeared, had fought through the whole Civil War, and was + in consequence perfectly good-humored and peaceable in his feelings upon + that subject, replied hastily and amiably: “Oh, yes, yes! Why, I believe + it was!” + </p> + <p> + But this availed nothing; Juno bent her great height forward, and + addressed Mrs. Braintree. “This is the first time I have been told + Southerners were vandals.” + </p> + <p> + “You will never be able to say that again!” replied Mrs. Braintree. + </p> + <p> + After the bell and Daphne had stopped, the invaluable Briton addressed a + genial generalization to us all: “I often think how truly awful your war + would have been if the women had fought it, y’know, instead of the men.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so!” said the easy-going Edward “Squaws! Mutilation! Yes!” and he + laughed at his little joke, but he laughed alone. + </p> + <p> + I turned to Juno. “Speaking of mutilation, I trust your nephew is better + this evening.” + </p> + <p> + I was rejoiced by receiving a glare in response. But still more joy was to + come. + </p> + <p> + “An apology ought to help cure him a lot,” observed the Briton. + </p> + <p> + Juno employed her policy of not hearing him. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I trust that your nephew is in less pain,” said the poetess. + </p> + <p> + Juno was willing to answer this. “The injuries, thank you, are the merest + trifles—all that such a light-weight could inflict.” And she + shrugged her shoulders to indicate the futility of young John’s pugilism. + </p> + <p> + “But,” the surprised Briton interposed, “I thought you said your nephew + was too feeble to eat steak or hear poetry.” + </p> + <p> + Juno could always stem the eddy of her own contradictions—but she + did raise her voice a little. “I fancy, sir, that Doctor Beaugarcon knows + what he is talking about.” + </p> + <p> + “Have they apologized yet?” inquired the male honeymooner from the + up-country. + </p> + <p> + “My nephew, sir, nobly consented to shake hands this afternoon. He did it + entirely out of respect for Mr. Mayrant’s family, who coerced him into + this tardy reparation, and who feel unable to recognize him since his + treasonable attitude in the Custom House.” + </p> + <p> + “Must be fairly hard to coerce a chap you can’t recognize,” said the + Briton. + </p> + <p> + An et cetera now spoke to the honeymoon bride from the up-country: “I + heard Doctor Beaugarcon say he was coming to visit you this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Yais,” assented the bride. “Doctor Beaugarcon is my mother’s fourth + cousin.” + </p> + <p> + Juno now took—most unwisely, as it proved—a vindictive turn at + me. “I knew that your friend, Mr. Mayrant, was intemperate,” she began. + </p> + <p> + I don’t think that Mrs. Trevise had any intention to ring for Daphne at + this point—her curiosity was too lively; but Juno was going to risk + no such intervention, and I saw her lay a precautionary hand heavily down + over the bell. “But,” she continued, “I did not know that Mr. Mayrant was + a gambler.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever seen him intemperate?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “That would be quite needless,” Juno returned. “And of the gambling I have + ocular proof, since I found him, cards, counters, and money, with my sick + nephew. He had actually brought cards in his pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said the Briton, “your nephew was too sick to resist him.” + </p> + <p> + The male honeymooner, with two of the et ceteras, made such unsteady + demonstrations at this that Mrs. Trevise protracted our sitting no longer. + She rose, and this meant rising for us all. + </p> + <p> + A sense of regret and incompleteness filled me, and finding the Briton at + my elbow as our company proceeded toward the sitting room, I said: “Too + bad!” + </p> + <p> + His whisper was confident. “We’ll get the rest of it out of her yet.” + </p> + <p> + But the rest of it came without our connivance. + </p> + <p> + In the sitting room Doctor Beaugarcon sat waiting, and at sight of Juno + entering the door (she headed our irregular procession) he sprang up and + lifted admiring hands. “Oh, why didn’t I have an aunt like you!” he + exclaimed, and to Mrs. Trevise as she followed: “She pays her nephew’s + poker debts.” + </p> + <p> + “How much, cousin Tom?” asked the upcountry bride. + </p> + <p> + And the gay old doctor chuckled, as he kissed her: “Thirty dollars this + afternoon, my darling.” + </p> + <p> + At this the Briton dragged me behind a door in the hall, and there we + danced together. + </p> + <p> + “That Mayrant chap will do,” he declared; and we composed ourselves for a + proper entrance into the sitting room, where the introductions had been + made, and where Doctor Beaugarcon and Mrs. Braintree’s husband had already + fallen into war reminiscences, and were discovering with mutual amiability + that they had fought against each other in a number of battles. + </p> + <p> + “And you generally licked us,” smiled the Union soldier. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! don’t I know myself how it feels to run!” laughed the Confederate. + “Are you down at the club?” + </p> + <p> + But upon learning from the poetess that her ode was now to be read aloud, + Doctor Beaugarcon paid his fourth cousin’s daughter a brief, though + affectionate, visit, lamenting that a very ill patient should compel him + to take himself away so immediately, but promising her presently in his + stead two visitors much more interesting. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Josephine St. Michael desires to call upon you,” he said, “and I + fancy that her nephew will escort her.” + </p> + <p> + “In all this rain?” said the bride. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s letting up, letting up! Good night, Mistress Trevise. Good + night, sir; I am glad to have met you.” He shook hands with Mrs. + Braintree’s husband. “We fellows,” he whispered, “who fought in the war + have had war enough.” And bidding the general company good night, and + kissing the bride again, he left us even as the poetess returned from her + room with the manuscript. + </p> + <p> + I soon wished that I had escaped with him, because I feared what Mrs. + Braintree might say when the verses should be finished; and so, I think, + did her husband. We should have taken the hint which tactful Doctor + Beaugarcon had meant, I began to believe, to give us in that whispered + remark of his. But it had been given too lightly, and so we sat and heard + the ode out. I am sure that the poetess, wrapped in the thoughts of her + own composition, had lost sight of all but the phrasing of her poem and + the strong feelings which it not unmusically voiced; there Is no other way + to account for her being willing to read it in Mrs. Braintree’s presence. + </p> + <p> + Whatever gayety had filled me when the Boston lady had clashed with Juno + was now changed to deprecation and concern. Indeed, I myself felt almost + as if I were being physically struck by the words, until mere bewilderment + took possession of me; and after bewilderment, a little, a very little, + light, which, however, rapidly increased. We were the victors, we the + North, and we had gone upon our way with songs and rejoicing—able to + forget, because we were the victors. We had our victory; let the + vanquished have their memory. But here was the cry of the vanquished, + coming after forty years. It was the time which at first bewildered me; + Juno had seen the war, Juno’s bitterness I could comprehend, even if I + could not comprehend her freedom in expressing it, but the poetess could + not be more than a year or two older than I was; she had come after it was + all over. Why should she prolong such memories and feelings? But my light + increased as I remembered she had not written this for us, and that if she + had not seen the flames of war, she had seen the ashes; for the ashes I + had seen myself here in Kings Port, and had been overwhelmed by the sight, + forty years later, more overwhelmed than I could possibly say to Mrs. + Gregory St. Michael, or Mrs. Weguelin, or anybody. The strain of sitting + and waiting for the end made my hands cold and my head hot, but + nevertheless the light which had come enabled me to bend instantly to Mrs. + Braintree and murmur a great and abused quotation to her:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Tout comprendre c’est tout pardonner.” + </pre> + <p> + But my petition could not move her. She was too old; she had seen the + flames of war; and so she said to her husband:— + </p> + <p> + “Edward, will you please help me upstairs?” + </p> + <p> + And thus the lame, irreconcilable lady left the room with the assistance + of her unhappy warrior, who must have suffered far more keenly than I did. + </p> + <p> + This departure left us all in a constraint which was becoming unbearable + when the blessed doorbell rang and delivered us, and Miss Josephine St. + Michael entered with John Mayrant. He wore a most curious expression; his + eyes went searching about the room, and at length settled upon Juno with a + light in them as impish as that which had flickered in my own mood before + the ode. + </p> + <p> + To my surprise, Miss Josephine advanced and gave me a special and marked + greeting. Before this she had always merely bowed to me; to-night she held + out her hand. “Of course my visit is not to you; but I am very glad to + find you here and express the appreciation of several of us for your + timely aid to Daddy Ben. He feels much shame in having said nothing to you + himself.” + </p> + <p> + And while I muttered those inevitable modest nothings which fit such + occasions, Miss St. Michael recounted to the bride, whom she was + ostensibly calling upon, and to the rest of our now once more harmonious + circle, my adventures in the alleys of Africa. These loomed, even with + Miss St. Michael’s perfectly quiet and simple rendering of them, almost of + heroic size, thanks doubtless to Daddy Ben’s tropical imagery when he + first told the tale; and before they were over Miss St. Michael’s marked + recognition of me actually brought from Juno some reflected recognition—only + this resembled in its graciousness the original about as correctly as a + hollow spoon reflects the human countenance divine. Still, it was at + Juno’s own request that I brought down from my chamber and displayed to + them the kettle-supporter. + </p> + <p> + I have said that Miss St. Michael’s visit was ostensibly to the bride: and + that is because for some magnetic reason or other I felt diplomacy like an + undercurrent passing among our chairs. Young John’s expression deepened, + whenever he watched Juno, to a devilishness which his polite manners + veiled no better than a mosquito netting; and I believe that his aunt, on + account of the battle between their respective nephews, had for family + reasons deemed it advisable to pay, indirectly, under cover of the bride, + a state visit to Juno; and I think that I saw Juno accepting it as a state + visit, and that the two together, without using a word of spoken language, + gave each other to understand that the recent deplorable circumstances + were a closed incident. I think that his Aunt Josephine had desired young + John to pay a visit likewise, and, to make sure of his speedy compliance, + had brought him along with her—coerced him, as Juno would have said. + He wore somewhat the look of having been “coerced,” and he contributed + remarkably few observations to the talk. + </p> + <p> + It was all harmonious, and decorous, and properly conducted, this state + visit; yet even so, Juno and John exchanged at parting some verbal + sweet-meats which rather stuck out from the smooth meringue of diplomacy. + </p> + <p> + She contemplated his bruise. “You are feeling stronger, I hope, than you + have been lately? A bridegroom’s health should be good.” + </p> + <p> + He thanked her. “I am feeling better to-night than for many weeks.” + </p> + <p> + The rascal had the thirty dollars visibly bulging that moment in his + pocket. I doubt if he had acquainted his aunt with this episode, but she + was certain to hear it soon; and when she did hear it, I rather fancy that + she wished to smile—as I completely smiled alone in my bed that + night thinking young John over. + </p> + <p> + But I did not go to sleep smiling; listening to the “Ode for the Daughters + of Dixie” had been an ordeal too truly painful, because it disclosed live + feelings which I had thought were dead, or rather, it disclosed that those + feelings smouldered in the young as well as in the old. Doctor Beaugarcon + didn’t have them—he had fought them out, just as Mr. Braintree had + fought them out; and Mrs. Braintree, like Juno, retained them, because she + hadn’t fought them out; and John Mayrant didn’t have them, because he had + been to other places; and I didn’t have them—never had had them in + my life, because I came into the world when it was all over. Why then—Stop, + I told myself, growing very wakeful, and seeing in the darkness the light + which had come to me, you have beheld the ashes, and even the sight has + overwhelmed you; these others were born in the ashes, and have had ashes + to sleep in and ashes to eat. This I said to myself; and I remembered that + War hadn’t been all; that Reconstruction came in due season; and I thought + of the “reconstructed” negro, as Daddy Ben had so ingeniously styled him. + These white people, my race, had been set beneath the reconstructed negro. + Still, still, this did not justify the whole of it to me; my perfectly + innocent generation seemed to be included in the unforgiving, unforgetting + ode. “I must have it out with somebody,” I said. And in time I fell + asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII: The Girl Behind the Counter—III + </h2> + <p> + I was still thinking the ode over as I dressed for breakfast, for which I + was late, owing to my hair, which the changes in the weather had rendered + somewhat recalcitrant. Yes; decidedly I must have it out with somebody. + The weather was once more superb; and in the garden beneath my window men + were already sweeping away the broken twigs and debris of the storm. I say + “already,” because it had not seemed to me to be the Kings Port custom to + remove debris, or anything, with speed. I also had it in my mind to + perform at lunch Aunt Carola’s commission, and learn if the family of La + Heu were indeed of royal descent through the Bombos. I intended to find + this out from the girl behind the counter, but the course which our + conversation took led me completely to forget about it. + </p> + <p> + As soon as I entered the Exchange I planted myself in front of the + counter, in spite of the discouragement which I too plainly perceived in + her countenance; the unfavorable impression which I had made upon her at + our last interview was still in force. + </p> + <p> + I plunged into it at once. “I have a confession to make.” + </p> + <p> + “You do me surprising honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, don’t begin like that! I suppose you never told a lie.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m telling the truth now when I say that I do not see why an entire + stranger should confess anything to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my goodness! Well, I told you a lie, anyhow; a great, successful, + deplorable lie.” + </p> + <p> + She opened her mouth under the shock of it, and I recited to her + unsparingly my deception; during this recital her mouth gradually closed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare, declare, declare!” she slowly and deliciously breathed + over the sum total; and she considered me at length, silently, before her + words came again, like a soft soliloquy. “I could never have believed it + in one who”—here gayety flashed in her eyes suddenly—“parts + his back hair so rigidly. Oh, I beg your pardon for being personal!” And + her gayety broke in ripples. Some habitual instinct moved me to turn to + the looking-glass. “Useless!” she cried, “you can’t see it in that. But + it’s perfectly splendid to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Nature has been kind to me in many ways—nay, prodigal; it is not + every man who can perceive the humor in a jest of which he is himself the + subject. I laughed with her. “I trust that I am forgiven,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you are forgiven! Come out, General, and give the gentleman your + right paw, and tell him that he is forgiven—if only for the sake of + Daddy Ben.” With these latter words she gave me a gracious nod of + understanding. They were all thanking me for the kettle-supporter! She + probably knew also the tale of John Mayrant, the cards, and the bedside. + </p> + <p> + The curly dog came out, and went through his part very graciously. + </p> + <p> + “I can guess his last name,” I remarked. + </p> + <p> + “General’s? How? Oh, you’ve heard it! I don’t believe in you any more.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not a bit handsome, after my confession. No, I’m getting to + understand South Carolina a little. You came from the ‘up-country,’ you + call your dog General; his name is General Hampton!” + </p> + <p> + Her laughter assented. “Tell me some more about South Carolina,” she added + with her caressing insinuation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, to begin with—” + </p> + <p> + “Go sit down at your lunch-table first. Aunt Josephine would never + tolerate my encouraging gentlemen to talk to me over the counter.” + </p> + <p> + I went back obediently, and then resumed: “Well, what sort of people are + those who own the handsome garden behind Mrs. Trevise’s!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know them.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; that’s all I wanted.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “They’re new people. I could tell it from the way you stuck your nose in + the air.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you talk about my hair, I can talk about your nose, I think. I + suspected that they were: ‘new people’ because they cleaned up their + garden immediately after the storm this morning. Now, I’ll tell you + something else: the whole South looks down on the whole North.” + </p> + <p> + She made her voice kind. “Do you mind it very much?” + </p> + <p> + I joined in her latent mirth. “It makes life not worth living! But more + than this, South Carolina looks down on the whole South.” + </p> + <p> + “Not Virginia.” + </p> + <p> + “Not? An ‘entire stranger,’ you know, sometimes notices things which + escape the family eye—family likenesses in the children, for + instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Never Virginia,” she persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, very well! Somehow you’ve admitted the rest, however.” + </p> + <p> + She began to smile. + </p> + <p> + “And next, Kings Port looks down on all the rest of South Carolina.” + </p> + <p> + She now laughed outright. “An up-country girl will not deny that, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + “And finally, your aunts—” + </p> + <p> + “My aunts are Kings Port.” + </p> + <p> + “The whole of it?” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean the thirty thousand negroes—” + </p> + <p> + “No, there are other white people here—there goes your nose again!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not have you so impudent, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand pardons, I’m on my knees. But your aunts—” There was + such a flash of war in her eye that I stopped. + </p> + <p> + “May I not even mention them?” I asked her. + </p> + <p> + And suddenly upon this she became serious and gentle. “I thought that you + understood them. Would you take them from their seclusion, too? It is all + they have left—since you burned the rest in 1865.” + </p> + <p> + I had made her say what I wanted! That “you” was what I wanted. Now I + should presently have it out with her. But, for the moment, I did not + disclaim the “you.” I said:— + </p> + <p> + “The burning in 1865 was horrible, but it was war.” + </p> + <p> + “It was outrage.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the same kind as England’s, who burned Washington in 1812, and whom + you all so deeply admire.” + </p> + <p> + She had, it seemed, no answer to this. But we trembled on the verge of a + real quarrel. It was in her voice when she said:— + </p> + <p> + “I think I interrupted you.” + </p> + <p> + I pushed the risk one step nearer the verge, because of the words I wished + finally to reach. “In 1812, when England burned our White House down, we + did not sit in the ashes; we set about rebuilding.” + </p> + <p> + And now she burst out. “That’s not fair, that’s perfectly inexcusable! Did + England then set loose on us a pack of black savages and politicians to + help us rebuild? Why, this very day I cannot walk on the other side of the + river, I dare not venture off the New Bridge; and you who first beat us + and then unleashed the blacks to riot in a new ‘equality’ that they were + no more fit for than so many apes, you sat back at ease in your victory + and your progress, having handed the vote to the negro as you might have + handed a kerosene lamp to a child of three, and let us crushed, breathless + people cope with the chaos and destruction that never came near you. Why, + how can you dare—” Once again, admirably she pulled herself up as + she had done when she spoke of the President. “I mustn’t!” she declared, + half whispering, and then more clearly and calmly, “I mustn’t.” And she + shook her head as if shaking something off. “Nor must you,” she finished, + charmingly and quietly, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I will not,” I assured her. She was truly noble. + </p> + <p> + “But I did think that you understood us,” she said pensively. + </p> + <p> + “Miss La Heu, when you talked to me about the President and the White + House, I said that you were hard to answer. Do you remember?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. I said I was glad you found me so.’ + </p> + <p> + “You helped me to understand you then, and now I want to be helped to + further understanding. Last night I heard the ‘Ode for the Daughters of + Dixie.’ I had a bad time listening to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you presume to criticise it? Do we criticise your Grand Army reunions, + and your ‘Marching through Georgia,’ and your ‘John Brown’s Body,’ and + your Arlington Museum? Can we not be allowed to celebrate our heroes and + our glories and sing our songs?” + </p> + <p> + She had helped me already! Still, still, the something I was groping for, + the something which had given me such pain during the ode, remained + undissolved, remained unanalyzed between us; I still had to have it out + with her, and the point was that it had to be with her, and not simply + with myself alone. We must thrash out together the way to an + understanding; an agreement was not in the least necessary—we could + agree to differ, for that matter, with perfect cordiality—but an + understanding we must reach. And as I was thinking this my light + increased, and I saw clearly the ultimate thing which lay at the bottom of + my own feeling, and which had been strangely confusing me all along. This + discovery was the key to the whole remainder of my talk; I never let go of + it. The first thing it opened for me was that Eliza La Heu didn’t + understand me, which was quite natural, since I had only just this moment + become clear to myself. + </p> + <p> + “Many of us,” I began, “who have watched the soiling touch of politics + make dirty one clean thing after another, would not be wholly desolated to + learn that the Grand Army of the Republic had gone to another world to + sing its songs and draw its pensions.” + </p> + <p> + She looked astonished, and then she laughed. Down in the South here she + was too far away to feel the vile uses to which present politics had + turned past heroism. + </p> + <p> + “But,” I continued, “we haven’t any Daughters of the Union banded together + and handing it down.” + </p> + <p> + “It?” she echoed. “Well, if the deeds of your heroes are not a sacred + trust to you, don’t invite us, please, to resemble you.” + </p> + <p> + I waited for more, and a little more came. + </p> + <p> + “We consider Northerners foreigners, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Again I felt that hurt which hearing the ode had given me, but I now knew + how I was going to take it, and where we were presently coming out; and I + knew she didn’t mean quite all that—didn’t mean it every day, at + least—and that my speech had driven her to saying it. + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss La Heu; you don’t consider Northerners, who understand you, to + be foreigners.” + </p> + <p> + “We have never met any of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + (“Yes,” I thought, “but you really want to. Didn’t you say you hoped I was + one? Away down deep there’s a cry of kinship in you; and that you don’t + hear it, and that we don’t hear it, has been as much our fault as yours. I + see that very well now, but I’m afraid to tell you so, yet.”) + </p> + <p> + What I said was: “We’re handing the ‘sacred trust’ down, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “I understood you to say you weren’t.” + </p> + <p> + “I said we were not handing ‘it’ down.” + </p> + <p> + I didn’t wonder that irritation again moulded her reply. “You must excuse + a daughter of Dixie if she finds the words of a son of the Union beyond + her. We haven’t had so many advantages.” + </p> + <p> + There she touched what I had thought over during my wakeful hours: the + tale of the ashes, the desolate ashes! The war had not prevented my + parents from sending me to school and college, but here the old had seen + the young grow up starved of what their fathers had given them, and the + young had looked to the old and known their stripped heritage. + </p> + <p> + “Miss La Heu,” I said, “I could not tell you, you would not wish me to + tell you, what the sight of Kings Port has made me feel. But you will let + me say this: I have understood for a long while about your old people, + your old ladies, whose faces are so fine and sad.” + </p> + <p> + I paused, but she merely looked at me, and her eyes were hard. + </p> + <p> + “And I may say this, too. I thank you very sincerely for bringing + completely home to me what I had begun to make out for myself. I hope the + Daughters of Dixie will go on singing of their heroes.” + </p> + <p> + I paused again, and now she looked away, out of the window into Royal + Street. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” I still continued, “you will hardly believe me when I say that + I have looked at your monuments here with an emotion more poignant even + than that which Northern monuments raise in me.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” I exclaimed. “Need you have asked that? The North won.” + </p> + <p> + “You are quite dispassionate!” Her eyes were always toward the window. + </p> + <p> + “That’s my ‘sacred trust.’” + </p> + <p> + It made her look at me. “Yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yours—yet! It would be yours if you had won.” I thought a + slight change came in her steady scrutiny. “And, Miss La Heu, it was awful + about the negro. It is awful. The young North thinks so just as much as + you do. Oh, we shock our old people! We don’t expect them to change, but + they mustn’t expect us not to. And even some of them have begun to whisper + a little doubtfully. But never mind them—here’s the negro. We can’t + kick him out. That plan is childish. So, it’s like two men having to live + in one house. The white man would keep the house in repair, the black + would let it rot. Well, the black must take orders from the white. And it + will end so.” + </p> + <p> + She was eager. “Slavery again, you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never! It was too injurious to ourselves. But something between + slavery and equality.” And I ended with a quotation: “‘Patience, cousin, + and shuffle the cards.’” + </p> + <p> + “You may call me cousin—this once—because you have been, + really, quite nice—for a Northerner.” + </p> + <p> + Now we had come to the place where she must understand me. + </p> + <p> + “Not a Northerner, Miss La Heu.” + </p> + <p> + She became mocking. “Scarcely a Southerner, I presume?” + </p> + <p> + But I kept my smile and my directness. “No more a Southerner than a + Northerner.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray what, then?” + </p> + <p> + “An American.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the ‘sacred trust’—for me.” + </p> + <p> + She was still silent. + </p> + <p> + “If my state seceded from the Union tomorrow, I should side with the Union + against her.” + </p> + <p> + She was frankly astonished now. “Would you really?” And I think some light + about me began to reach her. A Northerner willing to side against a + Northern state! I was very glad that I had found that phrase to make clear + to her my American creed. + </p> + <p> + I proceeded. “I shall help to hand down all the glories and all the + sadnesses; Lee’s, Lincoln’s, everybody’s. But I shall not hand ‘it’ down.” + </p> + <p> + This checked her. + </p> + <p> + “It’s easy for me, you know,” I hastily explained. “Nothing noble about it + at all. But from noble people”—and I looked hard at her—“one + expects, sooner or later, noble things.” + </p> + <p> + She repressed something she had been going to reply. + </p> + <p> + “If ever I have children,” I finished, “they shall know ‘Dixie’ and + ‘Yankee Doodle’ by heart, and never know the difference. By that time I + should think they might have a chance of hearing ‘Yankee Doodle’ in Kings + Port.” + </p> + <p> + Again she checked a rapid retort. “Well,” she, after a pause, repeated, + “you have been really quite nice.” + </p> + <p> + “May I tell you what you have been?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. Have you seen Mr. Mayrant to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “We have an engagement to walk this afternoon. May I go walking with you + sometime?” + </p> + <p> + “May he, General?” A wagging tail knocked on the floor behind the counter. + “General says that he will think about it. What makes you like Mr. Mayrant + so much?” + </p> + <p> + This question struck me as an odd one; nor could I make out the import of + the peculiar tone in which she put it. “Why, I should think everybody + would like him—except, perhaps, his double victim.” + </p> + <p> + “Double?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, first of his fist and then of—of his hand!” + </p> + <p> + But she didn’t respond. + </p> + <p> + “Of his hand—his poker hand,” I explained. + </p> + <p> + “Poker hand?” She remained honestly vague. + </p> + <p> + It rejoiced me to be the first to tell her. “You haven’t heard of Master + John’s last performance? Well, finding himself forced by that immeasurable + old Aunt Josephine of yours to shake hands, he shook ‘em all right, but he + took thirty dollars away as a little set-off for his pious docility.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she murmured, overwhelmed with astonishment. Then she broke into one + of her delicious peals of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Anybody,” I said, “likes a boy who plays a hand—and a fist—to + that tune.” I continued to say a number of commendatory words about young + John, while her sparkling eyes rested upon me. But even as I talked I grew + aware that these eyes were not sparkling, were starry rather, and distant, + and that she was not hearing what I said; so I stopped abruptly, and at + the stopping she spoke, like a person waking up. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! Certainly he can take care of himself. Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather creditable, don’t you think?” + </p> + <p> + “Creditable?” + </p> + <p> + “Considering his aunts and everything.” + </p> + <p> + She became haughty on the instant. “Upon my word! And do you suppose the + women of South Carolina don’t wish their men to be men? Why”—she + returned to mirth and that arch mockery which was her special charm—“we + South Carolina women consider virtue our business, and we don’t expect the + men to meddle with it!” + </p> + <p> + “Primal, perpetual, necessary!” I cried. “When that division gets blurred, + society is doomed. Are you sure John can take care of himself every way?” + </p> + <p> + “I have other things than Mr. Mayrant to think about.” She said this quite + sharply. + </p> + <p> + It surprised me. “To be sure,” I assented. “But didn’t you once tell me + that you thought he was simple?” + </p> + <p> + She opened her ledger. “It’s a great honor to have one’s words so well + remembered.” + </p> + <p> + I was still at a loss. “Anyhow, the wedding is postponed,” I continued; + “and the cake. Of course one can’t help wondering how it’s all coming + out.” + </p> + <p> + She was now working at her ledger, bending her head over it. “Have you + ever met Miss Rieppe?” She inquired this with a sort of wonderful softness—which + I was to hear again upon a still more memorable occasion. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” I answered, “but there’s nobody at present living whom I long to + see so much.” + </p> + <p> + She wrote on for a little while before saying, with her pencil steadily + busy, “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Don’t you? After all this fuss?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly,” she drawled. “She is so much admired—by + Northerners.” + </p> + <p> + “I do hope John is able to take care of himself,” I purposely repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Take care of yourself!” she laughed angrily over her ledger. + </p> + <p> + “Me? Why? I understand you less and less!” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I want to help him!” I protested. “I don’t want him to marry her. + Oh, by the way do you happen to know what it is that she is coming here to + see for herself?” + </p> + <p> + In a moment her ledger was left, and she was looking at me straight. + Coming? When? + </p> + <p> + “Soon. In an automobile. To see something for herself.” + </p> + <p> + She pondered for quite a long moment; then her eyes returned, searchingly, + to me. “You didn’t make that up?” + </p> + <p> + I laughed, and explained. “Some of them, at any rate,” I finished, “know + what she’s coming for. They were rather queer about it, I thought.” + </p> + <p> + She pondered again. I noticed that she had deeply flushed, and that the + flush was leaving her. Then she fixed her eyes on me once more. “They + wouldn’t tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that they came inadvertently near it, once or twice, and + remembered just in time that I didn’t know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “But since you do know pretty much about it!” she laughed. + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. “There’s something else, something that’s turned up; the + sort of thing that upsets calculations. And I merely hoped that you’d + know.” + </p> + <p> + On those last words of mine she gave me quite an extraordinary look, and + then, as if satisfied with what she saw in my face.— + </p> + <p> + “They don’t talk to me.” + </p> + <p> + It was an assurance, it was true, it had the ring of truth, that evident + genuineness which a piece of real confidence always possesses; she meant + me to know that we were in the same boat of ignorance to-day. And yet, as + I rose from my lunch and came forward to settle for it, I was aware of + some sense of defeat, of having been held off just as the ladies on High + Walk had held me off. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” I sighed, “I pin my faith to the aunt who says he’ll never marry + her.” + </p> + <p> + Miss La Heu had no more to say upon the subject. “Haven’t you forgotten + something?” she inquired gayly; and, as I turned to see what I had left + behind—“I mean, you had no Lady Baltimore to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “I clean forgot it!” + </p> + <p> + “No loss. It is very stale; and to-morrow I shall have a fresh supply + ready.” + </p> + <p> + As I departed through the door I was conscious of her eyes following me, + and that she had spoken of Lady Baltimore precisely because she was + thinking of something else. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV: The Replacers + </h2> + <p> + She had been strange, perceptibly strange, had Eliza La Heu; that was the + most which I could make out of it. I had angered her in some manner wholly + beyond my intention or understanding and not all at one fixed point in our + talk; her irritation had come out and gone in again in spots all along the + colloquy, and it had been a displeasure wholly apart from that indignation + which had flashed up in her over the negro question. This, indeed, I + understood well enough, and admired her for, and admired still more her + gallant control of it; as for the other, I gave it up. + </p> + <p> + A sense of guilt—a very slight one, to be sure—dispersed my + speculations when I was preparing for dinner, and Aunt Carola’s + postscript, open upon my writing-table, reminded me that I had never asked + Miss La Heu about the Bombos. Well, the Bombos could keep! And I descended + to dinner a little late (as too often) to feel instantly in the air that + they had been talking about me. I doubt if any company in the world, from + the Greeks down through Machiavelli to the present moment, has ever been + of a subtlety adequate to conceal from an observant person entering a room + the fact that he has been the subject of their conversation. This company, + at any rate, did not conceal it from me. Not even when the upcountry bride + astutely greeted me with:— + </p> + <p> + “Why, we were just speaking of you! We were lust saying it would be a + perfect shame if you missed those flowers at Live Oaks.” And, at this, + various of the guests assured me that another storm would finish them; + upon which I assured every one that to-morrow should see me embark upon + the Live Oaks excursion boat, knowing quite well in my heart that some + decidedly different question concerning me had been hastily dropped upon + my appearance at the door. It poked up its little concealed head, did this + question, when the bride said later to me, with immense archness:— + </p> + <p> + “How any gentleman can help falling just daid in love with that lovely + young girl at the Exchange, I don’t see!” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven’t helped it!” I immediately exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” declared the bride with unerring perception, “that just shows he + hasn’t been smitten at all! Well, I’d be ashamed, if I was a single + gentleman.” And while I brought forth additional phrases concerning the + distracted state of my heart, she looked at me with large, limpid eyes. + “Anybody could tell you’re not afraid of a rival,” was her resulting + comment; upon which several of the et ceteras laughed more than seemed to + me appropriate. + </p> + <p> + I left them all free again to say what they pleased; for John Mayrant + called for me to go upon our walk while we were still seated at table, and + at table they remained after I had excused myself. + </p> + <p> + The bruise over John’s left eye was fading out, but traces of his + spiritual battle were deepening. During the visit which he had paid (under + compulsion, I am sure) to Juno at our boarding-house in company with Miss + Josephine St. Michael, his recent financial triumph at the bedside had + filled his face with diabolic elation as he confronted his victim’s + enraged but checkmated aunt; when to the thinly veiled venom of her + inquiry as to a bridegroom’s health he had retorted with venom as thinly + veiled that he was feeling better that night than for many weeks, he had + looked better, too; the ladies had exclaimed after his departure what a + handsome young man he was, and Juno had remarked how fervently she trusted + that marriage might cure him of his deplorable tendencies. But to-day his + vitality had sagged off beneath the weight of his preoccupation: it looked + to me as if, by a day or two more, the boy’s face might be grown haggard. + </p> + <p> + Whether by intention, or, as is more likely, by the perfectly natural and + spontaneous working of his nature, he speedily made it plain to me that + our relation, our acquaintance, had progressed to a stage more friendly + and confidential. He did not reveal this by imparting any confidence to + me; far from it; it was his silence that indicated the ease he had come to + feel in my company. Upon our last memorable interview he had embarked at + once upon a hasty yet evidently predetermined course of talk, because he + feared that I might touch upon subjects which he wished excluded from all + discussion between us; to-day he embarked upon nothing, made no + conventional effort of any sort, but walked beside me, content with my + mere society; if it should happen that either of us found a thought worth + expressing aloud, good! and if this should not happen, why, good also! And + so we walked mutely and agreeably together for a long while. The thought + which was growing clear in my mind, and which was decidedly worthy of + expression, was also unluckily one which his new reliance upon my + discretion completely forbade my uttering in even the most shadowy manner; + but it was a conviction which Miss Josephine St. Michael should have been + quick to force upon him for his good. Quite apart from selfish reasons, he + had no right to marry a girl whom he had ceased to care for. The code + which held a “gentleman” to his plighted troth in such a case did more + injury to the “lady” than any “jilting” could possibly do. Never until now + had I thought this out so lucidly, and I was determined that time and my + own tact should assuredly help me find a way to say it to him, if he + continued in his present course. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy Ben says you can’t be a real Northerner.” + </p> + <p> + This was his first observation, and I think that we must have walked a + mile before he made it. + </p> + <p> + “Because I pounded a negro? Of course, he retains your Southern + ante-bellum mythical notion of Northerners—all of us willing to have + them marry our sisters. Well, there’s a lady at our boarding-house who + says you are a real gambler.” + </p> + <p> + The impish look came curling round his lips, but for a moment only, and it + was gone. + </p> + <p> + “That shook Daddy Ben up a good deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Having his grandson do it, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he’s used to his grandson! Grandsons in that race might just as well + be dogs for all they know or care about their progenitors. Yet Daddy Ben + spent his savings on educating Charles Cotesworth and two more—but + not one of them will give the old man a house to-day. If ever I have a + home—” John stopped himself, and our silence was no longer easy; our + unspoken thoughts looked out of our eyes so that they could not meet. Yet + no one, unless directly invited by him, had the right to say to hint what + I was thinking, except some near relative. Therefore, to relieve this + silence which had ceased to be agreeable, I talked about Daddy Ben and his + grandsons, and negro voting, and the huge lie of “equality” which our lips + vociferate and our lives daily disprove. This took us comfortably away + from weddings and cakes into the subject of lynching, my violent + condemnation of which surprised him; for our discussion had led us over a + wide field, and one fertile in well-known disputes of the evergreen sort, + conducted by the North mostly with more theory than experience, and by the + South mostly with more heat than light; whereas, between John and me, I + may say that our amiability was surpassed only by our intelligence! Each + allowed for the other’s standpoint, and both met in many views: he would + have voted against the last national Democratic ticket but for the + Republican upholding of negro equality, while I assured him that such + stupid and criminal upholding was on the wane. He informed me that he did + not believe the pure blooded African would ever be capable of taking the + intellectual side of the white man’s civilization, and I informed him that + we must patiently face this probability, and teach the African whatever he + could profitably learn and no more; and each of us agreed with the other. + I think that we were at one, save for the fact that I was, after all, a + Northerner—and that is a blemish which nobody in Kings Port can + quite get over. John, therefore, was unprepared for my wholesale + denunciation of lynching. + </p> + <p> + “With your clear view of the negro,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + “My dear man, it’s my clear view of the white! It’s the white, the + American citizen, the ‘hope of humanity,’ as he enjoys being called, who, + after our English-speaking race has abolished public executions, + degenerates back to the Stone Age. It’s upon him that lynching works the + true injury.” + </p> + <p> + “They’re nothing but animals,” he muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Would you treat an animal in that way?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + He persisted. “You’d do it yourself if you had to suffer from them.” + </p> + <p> + “Very probably. Is that an answer? What I’d never do would be to make a + show, an entertainment, a circus, out of it, run excursion trains to see + it—come, should you like your sister to buy tickets for a lynching?” + </p> + <p> + This brought him up rather short. “I should never take part myself,” he + presently stated, “unless it were immediate personal vengeance.” + </p> + <p> + “Few brothers or husbands would blame you,” I returned. “It would be hard + to wait for the law. But let no community which treats it as a public + spectacle presume to call itself civilized.” + </p> + <p> + He gave a perplexed smile, shaking his head over it. “Sometimes I think + civilization costs—” + </p> + <p> + “Civilization costs all you’ve got!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “More than I’ve got!” he declared. “I’m mortal tired of civilization.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! What male creature is not? And neither of us will live quite + long enough to see the smash-up of our own.” + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you sometimes inconsistent?” he inquired, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” I returned. “Consistency is a form of death. The dead are the + only perfectly consistent people.” + </p> + <p> + “And sometimes you sound like a Socialist,” he pursued, still laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” I shouted. “Don’t class me with those untrained puppies of + thought. And you’ll generally observe,” I added, “that the more nobly a + Socialist vaporizes about the rights of humanity, the more wives and + children he has abandoned penniless along the trail of his life.” + </p> + <p> + He was livelier than ever at this. “What date have you fixed for the + smash-up of our present civilization?” + </p> + <p> + “Why fix dates? Is it not diversion enough to watch, and step handsomely + through one’s own part, with always a good sleeve to laugh in?” + </p> + <p> + Pensiveness returned upon him. “I shall be able to step through my own + part, I think.” He paused, and I was wondering secretly, “Does that + include the wedding?” when he continued: “What’s there to laugh at?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, our imperishable selves! For instance: we swear by universal + suffrage. Well, sows’ ears are an invaluable thing in their place, on the + head of the animal; but send them to make your laws, and what happens? + Bribery, naturally. The silk purse buys the sow’s ear. We swear by + Christianity, but dishonesty is our present religion. That little phrase + ‘In God We Trust’ is about as true as the silver dollar it’s stamped on—worth + some thirty-nine cents. We get awfully serious about whether or no good + can come of evil, when every sky-scraping thief of finance is helping + hospitals with one hand while the other’s in my pocket; and good and evil + attend each other, lead to each other, are such Siamese twins that if + separated they would both die. We make phrases about peace, pity, and + brotherhood, while every nation stands prepared for shipwreck and for the + sinking plank to which two are clinging and the stronger pushes the weaker + into the flood and thus floats safe. Why, the old apple of wisdom, which + Adam and Eve swallowed and thus lost their innocence, was a gentle nursery + drug compared with the new apple of competition, which, as soon as chewed, + instantly transforms the heart into a second brain. But why worry, when + nothing is final? Haven’t you and I, for instance, lamented the present + rottenness of smart society? Why, when kings by the name of George sat on + the throne of England, society was just as drunken, just as dissolute! + Then a decent queen came, and society behaved itself; and now, here we + come round again to the Georges, only with the name changed! There’s + nothing final. So, when things are as you don’t like them, remember that + and bear them; and when they’re as you do like them, remember it and make + the most of them—and keep a good sleeve handy!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got any creed at all?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; but I don’t live up to it.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not expected. May I ask what it is?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s in Latin.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can probably bear it. Aunt Eliza had a classical tutor for me.” + </p> + <p> + I always relish a chance to recite my favorite poet, and I began + accordingly:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Laetus in praesens animus quod ultra est + Oderit curare et—” + </pre> + <p> + “I know that one!” he exclaimed, interrupting me. “The tutor made me put + it into English verse. I had the severest sort of a time. I ran away from + it twice to a deer-hunt.” And he, in his turn, recited:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Who hails each present hour with zest + Hates fretting what may be the rest, + Makes bitter sweet with lazy jest; + Naught is in every portion blest.” + </pre> + <p> + I complimented him, in spite of my slight annoyance at being deprived by + him of the chance to declaim Latin poetry, which is an exercise that I + approve and enjoy; but of course, to go on with it, after he had + intervened with his translation, would have been flat. + </p> + <p> + “You have written good English, and very close to the Latin, too,” I told + him, “particularly in the last line.” And I picked up from the bridge + which we were crossing, an oyster-shell, and sent it skimming over the + smooth water that stretched between the low shores, wide, blue, and + vacant. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you wonder why we call this the ‘New Bridge,’” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I did wonder when I first came,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + He smiled. “You’re getting used to us!” + </p> + <p> + This long structure wore, in truth, no appearance of yesterday. It was + newer than the “New Bridge” which it had replaced some fifteen years ago, + and which for forty years had borne the same title. Spanning the broad + river upon a legion of piles, this wooden causeway lies low against the + face of the water, joining the town with a serene and pensive country of + pines and live oaks and level opens, where glimpses of cabin and + plantation serve to increase the silence and the soft, mysterious + loneliness. Into this the road from the bridge goes straight and among the + purple vagueness gently dissolves away. + </p> + <p> + We watched a slow, deep-laden boat sliding down toward the draw, across + which we made our way, and drew near the further end of the bridge. The + straight avenue of the road in front of us took my eyes down its quiet + vista, until they were fixed suddenly by an alien object, a growing dot, + accompanied by dust, whence came the small, distorted honks of an + automobile. These fat, importunate sounds redoubled as the machine rushed + toward the bridge, growing up to its full staring, brazen dimensions. Six + or seven figures sat in it, all of the same dusty, shrouded likeness, + their big glass eyes and their masked mouths suggesting some fabled, + unearthly race, a family of replete and bilious ogres; so that as they + flew honking by us I called out to John:— + </p> + <p> + “Behold the yellow rich!” and then remembered that his Hortense probably + sat among them. + </p> + <p> + The honks redoubled, and we turned to see that the drawbridge had no + thought of waiting for them. We also saw a bewildered curly white dog and + a young girl, who called despairingly to him as he disappeared beneath the + automobile. The engine of murder could not, as is usual, proceed upon its + way, honking, for the drawbridge was visibly swinging open to admit the + passage of the boat. When John and I had run back near enough to become + ourselves a part of the incident, the white dog lay still behind the + stationary automobile, whose passengers were craning their muffled necks + and glass eyes to see what they had done, while one of their number had + got out, and was stooping to examine if the machine had sustained any + injuries. The young girl, with a face of anguish, was calling the dog’s + name as she hastened toward him, and her voice aroused him: he lifted his + head, got on his legs, and walked over to her, which action on his part + brought from the automobile a penetrating female voice:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, he’s in better luck than that Savannah dog!” + </p> + <p> + But General was not in luck. He lay quietly down at the feet of his + mistress and we soon knew that life had passed from his faithful body. The + first stroke of grief, dealt her in such cruel and sudden form, overbore + the poor girl’s pride and reserve; she made no attempt to remember or heed + surroundings, but kneeling and placing her arms about the neck of her dead + servant, she spoke piteously aloud:— + </p> + <p> + “And I raised him, I raised him from a puppy!” + </p> + <p> + The female voice, at this, addressed the traveller who was examining the + automobile: “Charley, a five or a ten spot is what her feelings need.” + </p> + <p> + The obedient and munificent Charley straightened up from his stooping + among the mechanical entrails, dexterously produced money, and advanced + with the selected bill held out politely in his hand, while the glass eyes + and the masks peered down at the performance. Eliza La Heu had perceived + none of this, for she was intent upon General; nor had John Mayrant, who + had approached her with the purpose of coming to her aid. But when + Charley, quite at hand, began to speak words which were instantly + obliterated from my memory by what happened, the young girl realized his + intention and straightened stiffly, while John, with the rapidity of + light, snatched the extended bill from Charley’s hand, and tearing it in + four pieces, threw it in his face. + </p> + <p> + A foreign voice cackled from the automobile: “Oh la la! il a du panache!” + </p> + <p> + But Charley now disclosed himself to be a true man of the world—the + financial world—by picking the pieces out of the mud; and, while he + wiped them and enclosed them in his handkerchief and with perfect dignity + returned them to his pocket, he remarked simply, with a shrug: “As you + please.” His accent also was ever so little foreign—that New York + downtown foreign, of the second generation, which stamps so, many of our + bankers. + </p> + <p> + The female now leaned from her seat, and with the tone of setting the + whole thing right, explained: “We had no idea it was a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless you’re not accustomed to their appearance,” said John to + Charley. + </p> + <p> + I don’t know what Charley would have done about this; for while the + completely foreign voice was delightedly whispering, “Toujours le + panache!” a new, deep, and altogether different female voice exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Why, John, it’s you!” + </p> + <p> + So that was Hortense, then! That rich and quiet utterance was hers, a + schooled and studied management of speech. I found myself surprised, and I + knew directly why; that word of one of the old ladles, “I consider that + she looks like a steel wasp,” had implanted in me some definite + anticipations to which the voice certainly did not correspond. How + fervently I desired that she would lift her thick veil, while John, with + hat in hand, was greeting her, and being presented to her companions! Why + she had not spoken to John sooner was of course a recondite question, and + beyond my power to determine with merely the given situation to guide me. + Hadn’t she recognized him before? Had her thick veil, and his position, + and the general slight flurry of the misadventure, intercepted recognition + until she heard his voice when he addressed Charley. Or had she known her + lover at once, and rapidly decided that the moment was an unpropitious one + for a first meeting after absence, and that she would pass on to Kings + Port unrevealed, but then had found this plan become impossible through + the collision between Charley and John? It was not until certain incidents + of the days following brought Miss Rieppe’s nature a good deal further + home to me, that a third interpretation of her delay in speaking to John + dawned upon my mind; that I was also made aware how a woman’s + understanding of the words “Steel wasp,” when applied by her to one of her + own sex, may differ widely from a man’s understanding of them; and that + Miss Rieppe, through her thick veil, saw from her seat in the automobile + something which my own unencumbered vision had by no means detected. + </p> + <p> + But now, here on the bridge, even her outward appearance was as shrouded + as her inward qualities—save such as might be audible in that voice, + as her skilful, well-placed speeches to one and the other of the company + tided over and carried off into ease this uneasy moment. All men, at such + a voice, have pricked up their ears since the beginning; there was much + woman in it; each slow, schooled syllable called its challenge to questing + man. But I got no chance to look in the eye that went with that voice; she + took all the advantages which her veil gave her; and how well she used + them I was to learn later. + </p> + <p> + In the general smoothing-out process which she was so capably effecting, + her attention was about to reach me, when my name was suddenly called out + from behind her. It was Beverly Rodgers, that accomplished and inveterate + bachelor of fashion. Ten years before, when I had seen much of him, he had + been more particular in his company, frequently declaring in his genial, + irresponsible way that New York society was going to the devil. But many + tempting dances on the land, and cruises on the water, had taken him deep + among our lower classes that have boiled up from the bottom with their + millions—and besides, there would be nothing to marvel at in + Beverly’s presence in any company that should include Hortense Rieppe, if + she carried out the promise of her voice. + </p> + <p> + Beverly was his customary, charming, effusive self, coming out of the + automobile to me with his “By Jove, old man,” and his “Who’d have thought + it, old fellow?” and sprinkling urbane little drops of jocosity over us + collectively, as the garden water-turning apparatus sprinkles a lawn. His + knowing me, and the way he brought it out, and even the tumbling into the + road of a few wraps and chattels of travel as he descended from the + automobile, and the necessity of picking these up and handing them back + with delightful little jocular apologies, such as, “By Jove, what a lout I + am,” all this helped the meeting on prodigiously, and got us gratefully + away from the disconcerting incident of the torn money. Charley was + helpful, too; you would never have supposed from the polite small-talk + which he was now offering to John Mayrant that he had within some three + minutes received the equivalent of a slap across the eyes from that youth, + and carried the soiled consequences in his pocket. And such a thing is it + to be a true man of the world of finance, that upon the arrival now of a + second automobile, also his property, and containing a set of maids and + valets, and also some live dogs sitting up, covered with glass eyes and + wrappings like their owners, munificent Charley at once offered the dead + dog and his mistress a place in it, and begged she would let it take her + wherever she wished to go. Everybody exclaimed copiously and condolingly + over the unfortunate occurrence. What a fine animal he was, to be sure! + What breed was he? Of course, he wasn’t used to automobiles! Was it quite + certain that he was dead? Quel dommage! And Charley would be so happy to + replace him. + </p> + <p> + And how was Eliza La Heu bearing herself amid these murmurously chattered + infelicities? She was listening with composure to the murmurs of Hortense + Rieppe, more felicitous, no doubt. Miss Rieppe, through her veil, was + particularly devoting herself to Miss La Lieu. I could not hear what she + said; the little chorus of condolence and suggestion intercepted all save + her tone, and that, indeed, coherently sustained its measured cadence + through the texture of fragments uttered by Charley and the others. Eliza + La Heu had now got herself altogether in hand, and, saving her pale + cheeks, no sign betrayed that the young girl’s feelings had been so + recently too strong for her. To these strangers, ignorant of her usual + manner, her present strange quietness may very well have been accepted as + her habit. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she replied to munificent Charley’s offer that she would use + his second automobile. She managed to make her polite words cut like a + scythe. “I should crowd it.” + </p> + <p> + “But they shall get out and walk; it will be good for them,” said Charley, + indicating the valets and maids, and possibly the dogs, too. + </p> + <p> + Beverly Rodgers did much better than Charley. With a charming gesture and + bow, he offered his own seat in the first automobile. “I am going to walk + in any case,” he assured her. + </p> + <p> + “One gentleman among them,” I heard John Mayrant mutter behind me. + </p> + <p> + Miss La Heu declined, the chorus urged, but Beverly (who was indeed a + gentleman, every inch of him) shook his head imperceptibly at Charley; and + while the little exclamations—“Do come! So much more comfortable! So + nice to see more of you!”—dropped away, Miss La Heu had settled her + problem quite simply for herself. A little procession of vehicles, + townward bound, had gathered on the bridge, waiting until the closing of + the draw should allow them to continue upon their way. From these most of + the occupants had descended, and were staring with avidity at us all; the + great glass eyes and the great refulgent cars held them in timidity and + fascination, and the poor lifeless white body of General, stretched beside + the way, heightened the hypnotic mystery; one or two of the boldest had + touched him, and found no outward injury upon him; and this had sent their + eyes back to the automobile with increased awe. Eliza La Heu summoned one + of the onlookers, an old negro; at some word she said to him he hurried + back and returned, leading his horse and empty cart, and General was + lifted into this. The girl took her seat beside the old driver. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said to John Mayrant, “certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + I wondered at the needless severity with which she declined his offer to + accompany her and help her. + </p> + <p> + He stood by the wheel of the cart, looking up at her and protesting, and I + joined him. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she returned, “I need no one. You will both oblige me by + saying no more about it.” + </p> + <p> + “John!” It was the slow, well-calculated utterance of Hortense Rieppe. Did + I hear in it the caressing note of love? + </p> + <p> + John turned. + </p> + <p> + The draw had swung to, the mast and sail of the vessel were separating + away from the bridge with a stealthy motion, men with iron bars were at + work fastening the draw secure, and horses’ hoofs knocked nervously upon + the wooden flooring as the internal churning of the automobiles burst upon + their innocent ears. + </p> + <p> + “John, if Mr. Rodgers is really not going with us—” + </p> + <p> + Thus Hortense; and at that Miss La Heu:— + </p> + <p> + “Why do you keep them waiting?” There was no caress in that note! It was + polished granite. + </p> + <p> + He looked up at her on her high seat by the extremely dilapidated negro, + and then he walked forward and took his place beside his veiled fiancee, + among the glass eyes. A hiss of sharp noise spurted from the automobiles, + horses danced, and then, smoothly, the two huge engines were gone with + their cargo of large, distorted shapes, leaving behind them—quite as + our present epoch will leave behind it—a trail of power, of + ingenuity, of ruthlessness, and a bad smell. + </p> + <p> + “Hold hard, old boy!” chuckled Beverly, to whom I communicated this + sentiment. “How do you know the stink of one generation does not become + the perfume of the next?” Beverly, when he troubled to put a thing at all + (which was seldom—for he kept his quite good brains well-nigh + perpetually turned out to grass—or rather to grass widows) always + put it well, and with a bracing vocabulary. “Hullo!” he now exclaimed, and + walked out into the middle of the roadway, where he picked up a parasol. + “Kitty will be in a jolly old stew. None of its expensive bones broken + however.” And then he hailed me by a name of our youth. “What are you + doing down here, you old sourbelly?” + </p> + <p> + “Watching you sun yourself on the fat cushions of the yellow rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shucks, old man, they’re not so yellow!” + </p> + <p> + “Charley strikes me as yellower than his own gold.” + </p> + <p> + “Charley’s not a bad little sort. Of course, he needs coaching a bit here + and there—just now, for instance, when he didn’t see that that girl + wouldn’t think of riding in the machine that had just killed her dog. By + Jove, give that girl a year in civilization and she’d do! Who was the + young fire-eater?” + </p> + <p> + “Fire-eater! He’s a lot more decent than you or I.” + </p> + <p> + “But that’s saying so little, dear boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, Beverly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it with your ‘seriously’! Well, then, seriously, melodrama was + the correct ticket and all that in 1840, but we’ve outgrown it; it’s + devilish demode to chuck things in people’s faces. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not sorry John Mayrant did it!” I brought out his name with due + emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” Beverly was beginning, when the automobile returned + rapidly upon us, and, guessing the cause of this, he waved the parasol. + Charley descended to get it—an unnecessary act, prompted, I suppose, + by the sudden relief of finding that it was not lost. + </p> + <p> + He made his thanks marked. “It is my sister’s,” he concluded, to me, by + way of explanation, in his slightly foreign accent. “It is not much, but + it has got some stones and things in the handle.” + </p> + <p> + We were favored with a bow from the veiled Hortense, shrill thanks from + Kitty, and the car, turning, again left us in a moment. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve got a Frenchman along,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Little Gazza,” Beverly returned. “Italian; though from his morals you’d + never guess he wasn’t Parisian. Great people in Rome. Hereditary right to + do something in the presence of the Pope—or not to do it, I forget + which. Not a bit of a bad little sort, Gazza. He has just sold a lot of + old furniture—Renaissance—Lorenzo du Borgia—that sort of + jolly old truck—to Bohm, you know.” + </p> + <p> + I didn’t know. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you do, old boy. Harry Bohm, of Bohm & Cohn. Everybody knows + Bohm, and we’ll all be knowing Cohn by next year. Gazza has sold him a lot + of furniture, too. Bohm’s from Pittsfield, or South Lee, or East Canaan, + or West Stockbridge, or some of those other back-country cider presses + that squirt some of the hardest propositions into Wall Street. He’s just + back from buying a railroad, and four or five mines in Mexico. Bohm + represents Christianity in the firm. At Newport they call him the military + attache to Jerusalem. He’s the big chap that sat behind me in the car. + He’ll marry Kitty as soon as she can get her divorce. Bohm’s a jolly old + sort—and I tell you, you old sourbelly, you’re letting this Southern + moss grow over you a bit. Hey? What? Yellow rich isn’t half bad, and I’ll + say it myself, and pretend it’s mine; but hang it, old man, their children + won’t be worse than lemon-colored, and the grandchildren will be white!” + </p> + <p> + “Just in time,” I exclaimed, “to take a back seat with their evaporated + fortunes!” + </p> + <p> + Beverly chuckled. “Well, if they do evaporate, there will be new ones. Now + don’t walk along making Mayflower eyes at me. I’m no Puritan, and my + people have had a front seat since pretty early in the game, which I’m + holding on to, you know. And by Jove, old man, I tell you, if you wish to + hold on nowadays, you can’t be drawing lines! If you don’t want to see + yourself jolly well replaced, you must fall in with the replacers. Our + blooming old republic is merely the quickest process of endless replacing + yet discovered, and you take my tip, and back the replacers! That’s where + Miss Rieppe, for all her Kings Port traditions, shows sense.” + </p> + <p> + I turned square on him. “Then she has broken it?” + </p> + <p> + “Broken what?” + </p> + <p> + “Her engagement to John Mayrant. You mean to say that you didn’t—?” + </p> + <p> + “See here, old man. Seriously. The fire-eater?” + </p> + <p> + I was so very much bewildered that I merely stared at Beverly Rodgers. Of + course, I might have known that Miss Rieppe would not feel the need of + announcing to her rich Northern friends an engagement which she had fallen + into the habit of postponing. + </p> + <p> + But Beverly had a better right to be taken aback. “I suppose you must have + some reason for your remark,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean that you’re engaged to her?” I shot out. + </p> + <p> + “Me? With my poor little fifteen thousand a year? Consider, dear boy! Oh, + no, we’re merely playing at it, she and I. She’s a good player. But + Charley—” + </p> + <p> + “He is?” I shouted. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, old man, and I don’t think he knows—yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Beverly,” said I, “let me tell you.” And I told him. + </p> + <p> + After he had got himself adjusted to the novelty of it he began to take it + with a series of thoughtful chuckles. + </p> + <p> + Into these I dropped with: “Where’s her father, anyhow?” I began to feel, + fantastically, that she mightn’t have a father. + </p> + <p> + “He stopped in Savannah,” Beverly answered. “He’s coming over by the + train. Kitty—Charley’s sister, Mrs. Bleecker—did the + chaperoning for us. + </p> + <p> + “Very expertly, I should guess,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly; invisibly,” said Beverly. And he returned to his thoughts and + his chuckles. + </p> + <p> + “After all, it’s simple,” he presently remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Doesn’t that depend on what she’s here for?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, to break it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why come for that?” + </p> + <p> + He took another turn among his cogitations. I took a number of turns among + my own, but it was merely walking round and round in a circle. + </p> + <p> + “When will she announce it, then?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” I murmured. “You said she was a good player.” + </p> + <p> + “But a fire-eater!” he resumed. “For her. Oh, hang it! She’ll let him go!” + </p> + <p> + “Then why hasn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. “Well, of course her game could be spoiled by—” + </p> + <p> + His speech died away into more cogitation, and I had to ask him what he + meant. + </p> + <p> + “By love getting into it somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + We walked on through Worship Street, which we had reached some while + since, and the chief features of which I mechanically pointed out to him. + </p> + <p> + “Jolly old church, that,” said Beverly, as we reached my favorite corner + and brick wall. “Well, I’ll not announce it!” he murmured gallantly. + </p> + <p> + “My dear man,” I said, “Kings Port will do all the announcing for you + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV: What She Came to See + </h2> + <p> + But in this matter my prognostication was thoroughly at fault; yet surely, + knowing Kings Port’s sovereign habit, as I had had good cause to know it, + I was scarce beyond reasonable bounds in supposing that the arrival of + Miss Rieppe would heat up some very general and very audible talk about + this approaching marriage, against which the prejudices of the town were + set in such compact array. I have several times mentioned that Kings Port, + to my sense, was buzzing over John Mayrant’s affairs; buzzing in the open, + where one could hear it, and buzzing behind closed doors, where one could + somehow feel it; I can only say that henceforth this buzzing ceased, + dropped wholly away, as if Gossip were watching so hard that she forgot to + talk, giving place to a great stillness in her kingdom. Such occasional + words as were uttered sounded oddly and egregiously clear in the + new-established void. + </p> + <p> + The first of these words sounded, indeed, quite enormous, issuing as it + did from Juno’s lips at our breakfast-table, when yesterday’s meeting on + the New Bridge was investing my mind with many thoughts. She addressed me + in one of her favorite tones (I have met it, thank God! but in two or + three other cases during my whole experience), which always somehow + conveyed to you that you were personally to blame for what she was going + to tell you. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know that your friend, Mr. Mayrant, has resigned from the + Custom House?” + </p> + <p> + I was, of course, careful not to give Juno the pleasure of seeing that she + had surprised me. I bowed, and continued in silence to sip a little + coffee; then, setting my coffee down, I observed that it would be some few + days yet before the resignation could take effect; and, noticing that Juno + was getting ready some new remark, I branched off and spoke to her of my + excursion up the river this morning to see the azaleas in the gardens at + Live Oaks. + </p> + <p> + “How lucky the weather is so magnificent!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be interested to hear,” said Juno, “what explanation he finds to + give Miss Josephine for his disrespectful holding out against her, and his + immediate yielding to Miss Rieppe.” + </p> + <p> + Here I deemed it safe to ask her, was she quite sure it had been at the + instance of Miss Rieppe that John had resigned? + </p> + <p> + “It follows suspiciously close upon her arrival,” stated Juno. She might + have been speaking of a murder. “And how he expects to support a wife now—well, + that is no affair of mine,” Juno concluded, with a washing-her-hands-of-it + air, as if up to this point she had always done her best for the wilful + boy. She had blamed him savagely for not resigning, and now she was + blaming him because he had resigned; and I ate my breakfast in much + entertainment over this female acrobat in censure. + </p> + <p> + No more was said; I think that my manner of taking Juno’s news had been + perfectly successful in disappointing her. John’s resignation, if it had + really occurred, did certainly follow very close upon the arrival of + Hortense; but I had spoken one true thought in intimating that I doubted + if it was due to the influence of Miss Rieppe. It seemed to me to the + highest degree unlikely that the boy in his present state of feeling would + do anything he did not wish to do because his ladylove happened to wish it—except + marry her! There was apparently no doubt that he would do that. Did she + want him, poverty and all? Was she, even now, with eyes open, deliberately + taking her last farewell days of automobiles and of steam yachts? That + voice of hers, that rich summons, with its quiet certainty of power, + sounded in my memory. “John,” she had called to him from the automobile; + and thus John had gone away in it, wedged in among Charley and the fat + cushions and all the money and glass eyes. And now he had resigned from + the Custom House! Yes, that was, whatever it signified, truly amazing—if + true. + </p> + <p> + So I continued to ponder quite uselessly, until the up-country bride + aroused me. She, it appeared, had been greatly carried away by the beauty + of Live Oaks, and was making her David take her there again this morning; + and she was asking me didn’t I hope we shouldn’t get stuck? The people had + got stuck yesterday, three whole hours, right on a bank in the river; and + wasn’t it a sin and a shame to run a boat with ever so many passengers + aground? By the doctrine of chances, I informed her, we had every right to + hope for better luck to-day; and, with the assurance of how much my + felicity was increased by the prospect of having her and David as company + during the expedition, I betook myself meanwhile to my own affairs, which + meant chiefly a call at the Exchange to inquire for Eliza La Heu, and a + visit to the post-office before starting upon a several hours’ absence. + </p> + <p> + A few steps from our front door I came upon John Mayrant, and saw at once + too plainly that no ease had come to his spirit during the hours since the + bridge. He was just emerging from an adjacent house. + </p> + <p> + “And have you resigned?” I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. That’s done. You haven’t seen Miss Rieppe this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, she’s surely not boarding with Mrs. Trevise?” + </p> + <p> + “No; stopping here with her old friend, Mrs. Cornerly.” He indicated the + door he had come from. “Of course, you wouldn’t be likely to see her + pass!” And with that he was gone. + </p> + <p> + That he was greatly stirred up by something there could be no doubt; never + before had I seen him so abrupt; it seemed clear that anger had taken the + place of despondency, or whatever had been his previous mood; and by the + time I reached the post-office I had already imagined and dismissed the + absurd theory that John was jealous of Charley, had resigned from the + Custom House as a first step toward breaking his engagement, and had rung + Mrs. Cornerly’s bell at this early hour with the purpose of informing his + lady-love that all was over between them. Jealousy would not be likely to + produce this set of manifestations in young, foolish John; and I may say + here at once, what I somewhat later learned, that the boy had come with + precisely the opposite purpose, namely, to repeat and reenforce his + steadfast constancy, and that it was something far removed from jealousy + which had spurred him to this. + </p> + <p> + I found the girl behind the counter at her post, grateful to me for coming + to ask how she was after the shock of yesterday, but unwilling to speak of + it at all; all which she expressed by her charming manner, and by the + other subjects she chose for conversation, and especially by the way in + which she held out her hand when I took my leave. + </p> + <p> + Near the post-office I was hailed by Beverly Rodgers, who proclaimed to me + at once a comic but genuine distress. He had already walked, he said (and + it was but half-past nine o’clock, as he bitterly bade me observe on the + church dial), more miles in search of a drink than his unarithmetical + brain had the skill to compute. And he confounded such a town heartily; he + should return as soon as possible to Charley’s yacht, where there was + civilization, and where he had spent the night. During his search he had + at length come to a door of promising appearance, and gone in there, and + they had explained to him that it was a dispensary. A beastly arrangement. + What was the name of the razor-back hog they said had invented it? And + what did you do for a drink in this confounded water-hole? + </p> + <p> + He would find it no water-hole, I told him; but there were methods which a + stranger upon his first morning could scarce be expected to grasp. “I + could direct you to a Dutchman,” I said, “but you’re too well dressed to + win his confidence at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, old man,” began Beverly, “I don’t speak Dutch, but give me a crack + at the confidence.” + </p> + <p> + However, he renounced the project upon learning what a Dutchman was. Since + my hours were no longer dedicated to establishing the presence of royal + blood in my veins I had spent them upon various local investigations of a + character far more entertaining and akin to my taste. It was in truth + quite likely that Beverly could in a very few moments, with his smile and + his manner, find his way to any Dutchman’s heart; he had that divine gift + of winning over to him quickly all sorts and conditions of men; and my + account of the ingenious and law-baffling contrivances, which you found at + these little grocery shops, at once roused his curiosity to make a trial; + but he decided that the club was better, if less picturesque. And he told + me that all the men of the automobile party had received from John Mayrant + cards of invitation to the club. + </p> + <p> + “Your fire-eater is a civil chap,” said Beverly. “And by the way, do you + happen to know,” here he pulled from his pocket a letter and consulted its + address, “Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael?” + </p> + <p> + I was delighted that he brought an introduction to this lady; Hortense + Rieppe could not open for him any of those haughty doors; and I wished not + only that Beverly (since he was just the man to appreciate it and + understand it) should see the fine flower of Kings Port, but also that the + fine flower of Kings Port should see him; the best blood of the South + could not possibly turn out anything better than Beverly Rodgers, and it + was horrible and humiliating to think of the other Northern specimens of + men whom Hortense had imported with her. I was here suddenly reminded that + the young woman was a guest of the Cornerlys, the people who swept their + garden, the people whom Eliza La Heu at the Exchange did not “know”; and + at this the remark of Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, when I had walked with her + and Mrs. Weguelin, took on an added lustre of significance:— + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to call.” + </p> + <p> + Call on the Cornerlys! Would they do that? Were they ready to stand by + their John to that tune? A hotel would be nothing; you could call on + anybody at a hotel, if you had to; but here would be a demarche indeed! + Yet, nevertheless, I felt quite certain that, if Hortense, though the + Cornerlys’ guest, was also the guaranteed fiancee of John Mayrant, the old + ladies would come up to the scratch, hate and loathe it as they might, and + undoubtedly would: they could be trusted to do the right thing. + </p> + <p> + I told Beverly how glad I was that he would meet Mrs. Weguelin St. + Michael. “The rest of your party, my friend,” I said, “are not very likely + to.” And I generalized to him briefly upon the town of Kings Port. + “Supposing I take you to call upon Mrs. St. Michael when I come back this + afternoon?” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + Beverly thought it over, and then shook his head. “Wouldn’t do, old man. + If these people are particular and know, as you say they do, hadn’t I + better leave the letter with my card, and then wait till she sends some + word?” + </p> + <p> + He was right, as he always was, unerringly. Consorting with all the + Charleys, and the Bohms, and the Cohns, and the Kitties hadn’t taken the + fine edge from Beverly’s good inheritance and good bringing up; his + instinct had survived his scruples, making of him an agile and charming + cynic, whom you could trust to see the right thing always, and never do it + unless it was absolutely necessary; he would marry any amount of Kitties + for their money, and always know that beside his mother and sisters they + were as dirt; and he would see to it that his children took after their + father, went to school in England for a good accent and enunciation, as he + had done, went to college in America for the sake of belonging in their + own country, as he had done, and married as many fortunes, and had as few + divorces, as possible. + </p> + <p> + “Who was that girl on the bridge?” he now inquired as we reached the steps + of the post-office; and when I had told him again, because he had asked me + about Eliza La Heu at the time, “She’s the real thing,” he commented. + “Quite extraordinary, you know, her dignity, when poor old awful Charley + was messing everything—he’s so used to mere money, you know, that + half the time he forgets people are not dollars, and you have to kick him + to remind him—yes, quite perfect dignity. Gad, it took a lady to + climb up and sit by that ragged old darky and take her dead dog away in + the cart! The cart and the darky only made her look what she was all the + more. Poor Kitty couldn’t do that—she’d look like a chambermaid! + Well, old man, see you again.” + </p> + <p> + I stood on the post-office steps looking after Beverly Rodgers as he + crossed Court Street. His admirably good clothes, the easy finish of his + whole appearance, even his walk, and his back, and the slope of his + shoulders, were unmistakable. The Southern men, going to their business in + Court Street, looked at him. Alas, in his outward man he was as a rose + among weeds! And certainly, no well-born American could unite with an art + more hedonistic than Beverly’s the old school and the nouveau jeu! + </p> + <p> + Over at the other corner he turned and stood admiring the church and + gazing at the other buildings, and so perceived me still on the steps. + With a gesture of remembering something he crossed back again. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve not seen Miss Rieppe?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course I haven’t!” I exclaimed. Was everybody going to ask me + that? + </p> + <p> + “Well, something’s up, old boy. Charley has got the launch away with him—and + I’ll bet he’s got her away with him, too. Charley lied this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Is lying, then, so rare with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it rather is, you know. But I’ve come to be able to spot him when he + does it. Those little bulgy eyes of his look at you particularly straight + and childlike. He said he had to hunt up a man on business—V-C + Chemical Company, he called it—” + </p> + <p> + “There is such a thing here,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Charley’d never make up a thing, and get found out in that way! But + he was lying all the same, old man.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean they’ve run off and got married?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you take them for? Much more like them to run off and not get + married. But they haven’t done that either. And, speaking of that, I + believe I’ve gone a bit adrift. Your fire-eater, you know—she is an + extraordinary woman!” And Beverly gave his mellow, little humorous + chuckle. “Hanged if I don’t begin to think she does fancy him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!” I cried, “that would explain—no, it wouldn’t. Whence comes + your theory?” + </p> + <p> + “Saw her look at him at dinner once last night. We dined with some people—Cornerly. + She looked at him just once. Well, if she intends—by gad, it upsets + one’s whole notion of her!” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t just one look rather slight basis for—” + </p> + <p> + “Now, old man, you know better than that!” Beverly paused to chuckle. “My + grandmother Livingston,” he resumed, “knew Aaron Burr, and she used to say + that he had an eye which no honest woman could meet without a blush. I + don’t know whether your fire-eater is a Launcelot, or a Galahad, but that + girl’s eye at dinner—” + </p> + <p> + “Did he blush?” I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Not that I saw. But really, old man, confound it, you know! He’s no sort + of husband for her. How can he make her happy and how can she make him + happy, and how can either of them hit it off with the other the least + little bit? She’s expensive, he’s not; she’s up-to-date, he’s not; she’s + of the great world, he’s provincial. She’s all derision, he’s all faith. + Why, hang it, old boy, what does she want him for?” + </p> + <p> + Beverly’s handsome brow was actually furrowed with his problem; and, as I + certainly could furnish him no solution for it, we stood in silence on the + post-office steps. “What can she want him for?” he repeated. Then he threw + it off lightly with one of his chuckles. “So glad I’ve no daughters to + marry! Well—I must go draw some money.” + </p> + <p> + He took himself off with a certain alacrity, giving an impatient cut with + his stick at a sparrow in the middle of Worship Street, nor did I see him + again this day, although, after hurriedly getting my letters (for the + starting hour of the boat had now drawn near), I followed where he had + gone down Court Street, and his cosmopolitan figure would have been easy + to descry at any distance along that scantily peopled pavement. He had + evidently found the bank and was getting his money. + </p> + <p> + David of the yellow heir and his limpid-looking bride were on the horrible + little excursion boat, watching for me and keeping with some difficulty a + chair next themselves that I might not have to stand up all the way; and, + as I came aboard, the bride called out to me her relief, she had made sure + that I would be late. + </p> + <p> + “David said you wouldn’t,” she announced in her clear up-country accent + across the parasols and heads of huddled tourists, “but I told him a + gentleman that’s late to three meals aivry day like as not would forget + boats can’t be kept hot in the kitchen for you.” + </p> + <p> + I took my place in the chair beside her as hastily as possible, for there + is nothing that I so much dislike as being made conspicuous for any reason + whatever; and my thanks to her were, I fear, less gracious in their manner + than should have been the case. Nor did she find me, I must suppose, as + companionable during this excursion—during the first part of it, at + any rate—as a limpid-looking bride, who has kept at some pains a + seat beside her for a single gentleman, has the right to expect; the brief + hours of this morning had fed my preoccupation too richly, and I must + often have fallen silent. + </p> + <p> + The horrible little tug, or ferry, or wherry, or whatever its contemptible + inconvenience makes it fitting that this unclean and snail-like craft + should be styled, cast off and began to lumber along the edges of the town + with its dense cargo of hats and parasols and lunch parcels. We were a + most extraordinary litter of man and womankind. There was the severe New + England type, improving each shining hour, and doing it in bleak costume + and with a thoroughly northeast expression; there were pink sunbonnets + from (I should imagine) Spartanburg, or Charlotte, or Greenville; there + were masculine boots which yet bore incrusted upon their heels the red mud + of Aiken or of Camden; there was one fat, jewelled exhalation who spoke of + Palm Beach with the true stockyard twang, and looked as if she swallowed a + million every morning for breakfast, and God knows how many more for the + ensuing repasts; she was the only detestable specimen among us; + sunbonnets, boots, and even ungenial New England proved on acquaintance + kindly, simple, enterprising Americans; yet who knows if sunbonnets and + boots and all of us wouldn’t have become just as detestable had we but + been as she was, swollen and puffy with the acute indigestion of sudden + wealth? + </p> + <p> + This reflection made me charitable, which I always like to be, and I + imparted it to the bride. + </p> + <p> + “My!” she said. And I really don’t know what that meant. + </p> + <p> + But presently I understood well why people endured the discomfort of this + journey. I forgot the cinders which now and then showered upon us, and the + heat of the sun, and the crowded chairs; I forgot the boat and myself, in + looking at the passing shores. Our course took us round Kings Port on + three sides. The calm, white town spread out its width and length beneath + a blue sky softer than the tenderest dream; the white steeples shone + through the enveloping brightness, taking to each other, and to the + distant roofs beneath them, successive and changing relations, while the + dwindling mass of streets and edifices followed more slowly the veering of + the steeples, folded upon itself, and refolded, opened into new shapes and + closed again, dwindling always, and always white and beautiful; and as the + far-off vision of it held the eye, the few masts along the wharves grew + thin and went out into invisibility, the spires became as masts, the + distant drawbridge through which we had passed sank down into a mere + stretching line, and shining Kings Port was dissolved in the blue of water + and of air. + </p> + <p> + The curving and the narrowing of the river took it at last from view; and + after it disappeared the spindling chimneys and their smoke, which were + along the bank above the town and bridge, leaving us to progress through + the solitude of marsh and wood and shore. The green levels of stiff salt + grass closed in upon the breadth of water, and we wound among them, + looking across their silence to the deeper silence of the woods that + bordered them, the brooding woods, the pines and the liveoaks, misty with + the motionless hanging moss, and misty also in that Southern air that + deepened when it came among their trunks to a caressing, mysterious, + purple veil. Every line of this landscape, the straight forest top, the + feathery breaks in it of taller trees, the curving marsh, every line and + every hue and every sound inscrutably spoke sadness. I heard a + mocking-bird once in some blossoming wild fruit tree that we gradually + reached and left gradually behind; and more than once I saw other + blossoms, and the yellow of the trailing jessamine; but the bird could not + sing the silence away, and spring with all her abundance could not hide + this spiritual autumn. + </p> + <p> + Dreams, a land of dreams, where even the high noon itself was dreamy; a + melting together of earth and air and water in one eternal gentleness of + revery! Whence came the melancholy of this? I had seen woods as solitary + and streams as silent, I had felt nature breathing upon me a greater awe; + but never before such penetrating and quiet sadness. I only know that this + is the perpetual mood of those Southern shores, those rivers that wind in + from the ocean among their narrowing marshes and their hushed forests, and + that it does not come from any memory of human hopes and disasters, but + from the elements themselves. + </p> + <p> + So did we move onward, passing in due time another bridge and a few + dwellings and some excavations, until the river grew quite narrow, and + there ahead was the landing at Live Oaks, with negroes idly watching for + us, and a launch beside the bank, and Charley and Hortense Rieppe about to + step into it. Another man stood up in the launch and talked to them where + they were on the landing platform, and pointed down the river as we + approached; but evidently he did not point at us. I looked hastily to see + what he was indicating to them, but I could see nothing save the solitary + river winding away between the empty woods and marshes. + </p> + <p> + So this was Hortense Rieppe! It was not wonderful that she had caused + young John to lose his heart, or, at any rate, his head and his senses; + nor was it wonderful that Charley, with his little bulging eyes, should + take her in his launch whenever she would go; the wonderful thing was that + John, at his age and with his nature, should have got over it—if he + had got over it! I felt it tingling in me; any man would. Steel wasp + indeed! + </p> + <p> + She was slender, and oh, how well dressed! She watched the passengers get + off the boat, and I could not tell you from that first sight of her what + her face was like, but only her hair, the sunburnt amber of its masses + making one think of Tokay or Chateau-Yquem. She was watching me, I felt, + and then saw; and as soon as I was near she spoke to me without moving, + keeping one gloved hand lightly posed upon the railing of the platform, so + that her long arm was bent with perfect ease and grace. I swear that none + but a female eye could have detected any toboggan fire-escape. + </p> + <p> + Her words dropped with the same calculated deliberation, the same composed + and rich indifference. “These gardens are so beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + Such was her first remark, chosen with some purpose, I knew quite well; + and I observed that I hoped I was not too late for their full perfection, + if too late to visit them in her company. + </p> + <p> + She turned her head slightly toward Charley. “We have been enjoying them + so much.” + </p> + <p> + It was of absorbing interest to feel simultaneously in these brief + speeches he vouchsafed—speeches consummate in their inexpressive + flatness—the intentional coldness and the latent heat of the + creature. Since Natchez and Mobile (or whichever of them it had been that + had witnessed her beginnings) she had encountered many men and women, + those who could be of use to her and those who could not; and in dealing + with them she had tempered and chiselled her insolence to a perfect + instrument, to strike or to shield. And of her greatest gift, also, she + was entirely aware—how could she help being, with her evident + experience? She knew that round her whole form swam a delicious, invisible + sphere, a distillation that her veriest self sent forth, as gardenias do + their perfume, moving where she moved and staying where she stayed, and + compared with which wine was a feeble vapor for a man to get drunk on. + </p> + <p> + “Flowers are always so delightful.” + </p> + <p> + That was her third speech, pronounced just like the others, in a low, + clear voice—simplicity arrived at by much well-practiced complexity. + And she still looked at Charley. + </p> + <p> + Charley now responded in his little banker accent. “It is a magnificent + collection.” This he said looking at me, and moving a highly polished + finger-nail along a very slender mustache. + </p> + <p> + The eyes of Hortense now for a moment glanced at the mixed company of + boat-passengers, who were beginning to be led off in pilgrim groups by the + appointed guides. + </p> + <p> + “We were warned it would be too crowded,” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + Charley was looking at her foot. I can’t say whether or not the two light + taps that the foot now gave upon the floor of the landing brought out for + me a certain impatience which I might otherwise have missed in those last + words of hers. From Charley it brought out, I feel quite sure, the speech + which (in some form) she had been expecting from him as her confederate in + this unwelcome and inopportune interview with me, and which his less + highly schooled perceptions had not suggested to him until prompted by + her. + </p> + <p> + “I should have been very glad to include you in our launch party if I had + known you were coming here to-day,” lied little Charley. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you so much!” I murmured; and I fancy that after this Hortense + hated me worse than ever. Well, why should I play her game? If anybody had + any claim upon me, was it she? I would get as much diversion as I could + from this encounter. + </p> + <p> + Hortense had looked at Charley when she spoke for my benefit, and it now + pleased me very much to look at him when I spoke for hers. + </p> + <p> + “I could almost give up the gardens for the sake of returning with you,” I + said to him. + </p> + <p> + This was most successful in producing a perceptible silence before + Hortense said, “Do come.” + </p> + <p> + I wanted to say to her, “You are quite splendid—as splendid as you + look, through and through! You wouldn’t have run away from any battle of + Chattanooga!” But what I did say was, “These flowers here will fade, but + may I not hope to see you again in Kings Port?” + </p> + <p> + She was looking at me with eyes half closed; half closed for the sake of + insolence—and better observation; when eyes like that take on + drowsiness, you will be wise to leave all your secrets behind you, locked + up in the bank, or else toss them right down on the open table. Well, I + tossed mine down, thereto precipitated by a warning from the stranger in + the launch:— + </p> + <p> + “We shall need all the tide we can get.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure you’d be glad to know,” I then said immediately (to Charley, of + course), “that Miss La Heu, whose dog you killed, is back at her work as + usual this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” returned Charley. “If there could be any chance for me to + replace—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss La Heu is her name?” inquired Hortense. “I did not catch it + yesterday. She works, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Woman’s Exchange. She bakes cakes for weddings—among her + other activities.” + </p> + <p> + “So interesting!” said Hortense; and bowing to me, she allowed the + spellbound Charley to help her down into the launch. + </p> + <p> + Each step of the few that she had to take was upon unsteady footing, and + each was taken with slow security and grace, and with a mastery of her + skirts so complete that they seemed to do it of themselves, falling and + folding in the soft, delicate curves of discretion. + </p> + <p> + For the sake of not seeming too curious about this party, I turned from + watching it before the launch had begun to move, and it was immediately + hidden from me by the bank, so that I did not see it get away. As I + crossed an open space toward the gardens I found myself far behind the + other pilgrims, whose wandering bands I could half discern among winding + walks and bordering bushes. I was soon taken into somewhat reprimanding + charge by an admirable, if important, negro, who sighted me from a door + beneath the porch of the house, and advanced upon me speedily. From him I + learned at once the rule of the place, that strangers were not allowed to + “go loose,” as he expressed it; and recognizing the perfect propriety of + this restriction, I was humble, and even went so far as to put myself + right with him by quite ample purchases of the beautiful flowers that he + had for sale; some of these would be excellent for the up-country bride, + who certainly ought to have repentance from me in some form for my silence + as we had come up the river: the scenery had caused me most ungallantly to + forget her. + </p> + <p> + My rule-breaking turned out all to my advantage. The admirable and + important negro was so pacified by my liberal amends that he not only + placed the flowers which I had bought in a bucket of water to wait in + freshness until my tour of the gardens should be finished and the moment + for me to return upon the boat should arrive, but he also honored me with + his own special company; and instead of depositing me in one of the groups + of other travellers, he took me to see the sights alone, as if I were + somebody too distinguished to receive my impressions with the common herd. + Thus I was able to linger here and there, and even to return to certain + points for another look. + </p> + <p> + I shall not attempt to describe the azaleas at Live Oaks. You will + understand me quite well, I am sure, when I say that I had heard the + people at Mrs. Trevise’s house talk so much about them, and praise them so + superlatively, that I was not prepared for much: my experience of life had + already included quite a number of azaleas. Moreover, my meeting with + Hortense and Charley had taken me far away from flowers. But when that + marvelous place burst upon me, I forgot Hortense. I have seen gardens, + many gardens, in England, in France; in Italy; I have seen what can be + done in great hothouses, and on great terraces; what can be done under a + roof, and what can be done in the open air with the aid of architecture + and sculpture and ornamental land and water; but no horticulture that I + have seen devised by mortal man approaches the unearthly enchantment of + the azaleas at Live Oaks. It was not like seeing flowers at all; it was as + if there, in the heart of the wild and mystic wood, in the gray gloom of + those trees veiled and muffled in their long webs and skeins of hanging + moss, a great, magic flame of rose and red and white burned steadily. You + looked to see it vanish; you could not imagine such a thing would stay. + All idea of individual petals or species was swept away in this glowing + maze of splendor, this transparent labyrinth of rose and red and white, + through which you looked beyond, into the gray gloom of the hanging moss + and the depths of the wild forest trees. + </p> + <p> + I turned back as often as I could, and to the last I caught glimpses of + it, burning, glowing, and shining like some miracle, some rainbow + exorcism, with its flooding fumes of orange-rose and red and white, + merging magically. It was not until I reached the landing, and made my way + on board again, that Hortense returned to my thoughts. She hadn’t come to + see the miracle; not she! I knew that better than ever. And who was the + other man in the launch? + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t it perfectly elegant!” exclaimed the up-country bride. And upon my + assenting, she made a further declaration to David: “It’s just aivry bit + as good as the Isle of Champagne.” + </p> + <p> + This I discovered to be a comic opera, mounted with spendthrift + brilliance, which David had taken her to see at the town of Gonzales, just + before they were married. + </p> + <p> + As we made our way down the bending river she continued to make many + observations to me in that up-country accent of hers, which is a fashion + of speech that may be said to differ as widely from the speech of the + low-country as cotton differs from rice. I began to fear that, in spite of + my truly good intentions, I was again failing to be as “attentive” as the + occasion demanded; and so I presented her with my floral tribute. + </p> + <p> + She was immediately arch. “I’d surely be depriving somebody!” and on this + I got to the full her limpid look. + </p> + <p> + I assured her that this would not be so, and pointed to the other flowers + I had. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, after a little more archness, she took them, as she had, of + course, fully meant to do from the first; she also took a woman’s revenge. + “I’ll not be any more lonesome going down than I was coming up,” she said. + “David’s enough.” And this led me definitely to conclude that David had + secured a helpmate who could take care of herself, in spite of the + limpidity of her eyes. + </p> + <p> + A steel wasp? Again that misleading description of Mrs. Weguelin St. + Michael’s, to which, since my early days in Kings Port, my imagination may + be said to have been harnessed, came back into my mind. I turned its + injustice over and over beneath the light which the total Hortense now + shed upon it—or rather, not the total Hortense, but my whole + impression of her, as far as I had got; I got a good deal further before + we had finished. To the slow, soft accompaniment of these gliding river + shores, where all the shadows had changed since morning, so that new + loveliness stood revealed at every turn, my thoughts dwelt upon this + perfected specimen of the latest American moment—so late that she + contained nothing of the past, and a great deal of to-morrow. I basked + myself in the memory of her achieved beauty, her achieved dress, her + achieved insolence, her luxurious complexity. She was even later than + those quite late athletic girls, the Amazons of the links, whose big, hard + football faces stare at one from public windows and from public punts, + whose giant, manly strides take them over leagues of country and square + miles of dance-floor, and whose bursting, blatant, immodest health glares + upon sea-beaches and round supper tables. Hortense knew that even now the + hour of such is striking, and that the American boy will presently turn + with relief to a creature who will more clearly remind him that he is a + man and that she is a woman. + </p> + <p> + But why was the insolence of Hortense offensive, when the insolence of + Eliza La Heu was not? Both these extremely feminine beings could exercise + that quality in profusion, whenever they so wished; wherein did the + difference lie? Perhaps I thought, in the spirit of its exercise; Eliza + was merely insolent when she happened to feel like it; and man has always + been able to forgive woman for that—whether the angels do or not, + but Hortense, the world-wise, was insolent to all people who could not be + of use to her; and all I have to say is, that if the angels can forgive + them, they’re welcome; I can’t! + </p> + <p> + Had I made sure of anything at the landing? Yes; Hortense didn’t care for + Charley in the least, and never would. A woman can stamp her foot at a man + and love him simultaneously; but those two light taps, and the measure + that her eyes took of Charley, meant that she must love his possessions + very much to be able to bear him at all. + </p> + <p> + Then, what was her feeling about John Mayrant? As Beverly had said, what + could she want him for? He hadn’t a thing that she valued or needed. His + old-time notions of decency, the clean simplicity of his make, his good + Southern position, and his collection of nice old relatives—what did + these assets look like from an automobile, or on board the launch of a + modern steam yacht? And wouldn’t it be amusing if John should grow + needlessly jealous, and have a “difficulty” with Charley? not a mere + flinging of torn paper money in the banker’s face, but some more decided + punishment for the banker’s presuming to rest his predatory eyes upon + John’s affianced lady. + </p> + <p> + I stared at the now broadening river, where the reappearance of the + bridge, and of Kings Port, and the nearer chimneys pouring out their smoke + a few miles above the town, betokened that our excursion was drawing to + its end. And then from the chimney’s neighborhood, from the waterside + where their factories stood, there shot out into the smoothness of the + stream a launch. It crossed into our course ahead of us, preceded us + quickly, growing soon into a dot, went through the bridge, and so was seen + no longer; and its occupants must have reached town a good half hour + before we did. And now, suddenly, I was stunned with a great discovery. + The bride’s voice sounded in my ear. “Well, I’ll always say you’re a + prophet, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + I looked at her, dull and dazed by the internal commotion the discovery + had raised in me. + </p> + <p> + “You said we wouldn’t get stuck in the mud, and we didn’t,” said the + bride. + </p> + <p> + I pointed to the chimneys. “Are those the phosphate works?” + </p> + <p> + “Yais. Didn’t you know?” + </p> + <p> + “The V-C phosphate works?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yais. Haven’t you been to see them yet? He ought to, oughtn’t he, + David? ‘Specially now they’ve found those deposits up the river were just + as rich as they hoped, after all.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose? Mr. Mayrant’s?” I asked with such sharpness that the bride was + surprised. + </p> + <p> + David hadn’t attended to the name. It was some trust estate, he thought; + Regent Tom, or some such thing. + </p> + <p> + “And they thought it was no good,” said the bride. “And it’s aivry bit as + good as the Coosaw used to be. Better than Florida or Tennessee.” + </p> + <p> + My eyes instinctively turned to where they had last seen the launch; of + course it wasn’t there any more. Then I spoke to David. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what a phosphate bed looks like? Can one see it?” + </p> + <p> + “This kind you can,” he answered. “But it’s not worth your trouble. Just a + kind of a square hole you dig along the river till you strike the stuff. + What you want to see is the works.” + </p> + <p> + No, I didn’t want to see even the works; they smelt atrociously, and I do + not care for vats, and acids, and processes: and besides, had I not seen + enough? My eyes went down the river again where that launch had gone; and + I wondered if the wedding-cake would be postponed any more. + </p> + <p> + Regent Tom? Oh, yes, to be sure! John Mayrant had pointed out to me the + house where he had lived; he had been John’s uncle. So the old gentleman + had left his estate in trust! And now—! But certainly Hortense would + have won the battle of Chattanooga! + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be too sure about all this,” I told myself cautiously. But there + are times when cautioning one’s self is quite as useless as if somebody + else had cautioned one; my reason leaped with the rapidity of intuition; I + merely sat and looked on at what it was doing. All sorts of odds and ends, + words I hadn’t understood, looks and silences I hadn’t interpreted, little + signs that I had thought nothing of at first, but which I had gradually, + through their multiplicity, come to know meant something, all these broken + pieces fitted into each other now, fell together and made a clear pattern + of the truth, without a crack in it—Hortense had never believed in + that story about the phosphates having failed—“pinched out,” as they + say of ore deposits. There she had stood between her two suitors, between + her affianced John and the besieging Charley, and before she would be off + with the old love and on with the new, she must personally look into those + phosphates. Therefore she had been obliged to have a sick father and + postpone the wedding two or three times, because her affairs—very + likely the necessity of making certain of Charley—had prevented her + from coming sooner to Kings Port. And having now come hither, and having + beheld her Northern and her Southern lovers side by side—had the + comparison done something to her highly controlled heart? Was love taking + some hitherto unknown liberties with that well-balanced organ? But what an + outrage had been perpetrated upon John! At that my deductions staggered in + their rapid course. How could his aunts—but then it had only been + one of them; Miss Josephine had never approved of Miss Eliza’s course; it + was of that that Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael had so emphatically reminded + Mrs. Gregory in my presence when we had strolled together upon High Walk, + and those two ladies had talked oracles in my presence. Well, they were + oracles no longer! + </p> + <p> + When the boat brought us back to the wharf, there were the rest of my + flowers unbestowed, and upon whom should I bestow them? I thought first of + Eliza La Heu, but she wouldn’t be at the Exchange so late as this. Then it + seemed well to carry them to Mrs. Weguelin. Something, however, prompted + me to pass her door, and continue vaguely walking on until I came to the + house where Miss Josephine and Miss Eliza lived; and here I rang the bell + and was admitted. + </p> + <p> + They were sitting as I had seen them first, the one with her embroidery, + and the other on the further side of a table, whereon lay an open letter, + which in a few moments I knew must have been the subject of the discussion + which they finished even as I came forward. + </p> + <p> + “It was only prolonging an honest mistake.” That was Miss Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And it has merely resulted in clinching what you meant it to finish.” + That was Miss Josephine. + </p> + <p> + I laid my flowers upon the table, and saw that the letter was in John + Mayrant’s hand. Of course. + </p> + <p> + I avoided looking at it again; but what had he written, and why had he + written? His daily steps turned to this house—unless Miss Josephine + had banished him again. + </p> + <p> + The ladies accepted my offering with gracious expressions, and while I + told them of my visit to Live Oaks, and poured out my enthusiasm, the + servant was sent for and brought water and two beautiful old china bowls, + in which Miss Eliza proceeded to arrange the flowers with her delicate + white hands. She made them look exquisite with an old lady’s art, and this + little occupation went on as we talked of indifferent subjects. + </p> + <p> + But the atmosphere of that room was charged with the subject of which we + did not speak. The letter lay on the table; and even as I struggled to + sustain polite conversation, I began to know what was in it, though I + never looked at it again; it spoke out as clearly to me as the launch had + done. I had thought, when I first entered, to tell the ladies something of + my meeting with Hortense Rieppe; I can only say that I found this + impossible. Neither of them referred to her, or to John, or to anything + that approached what we were all thinking of; for me to do so would have + assumed the dimensions of a liberty; and in consequence of this state of + things, constraint sat upon us all, growing worse, and so pervading our + small-talk with discomfort that I made my visit a very short one. Of + course they were civil about this when I rose, and begged me not to go so + soon; but I knew better. And even as I was getting my hat and gloves in + the hall I could tell by their tones that they had returned to the subject + of that letter. But in truth they had never left it; as the front door + shut behind me I felt as if they had read it aloud to me. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI: The Steel Wasp + </h2> + <p> + Certainly Hortense Rieppe would have won the battle of Chattanooga! I know + not from which parent that young woman inherited her gift of strategy, but + she was a master. To use the resources of one lover in order to ascertain + if another lover had any; to lay tribute on everything that Charley + possessed; on his influence in the business world, which enabled him to + walk into the V-C Chemical Company’s office and borrow an expert in the + phosphate line; on his launch in which to pop the expert and take him up + the river, and see in his company and learn from his lips just what + resources of worldly wealth were likely to be in-store for John Mayrant; + and finally (which was the key to all the rest) on his inveterate passion + for her, on his banker-like determination through all the thick and thin + of discouragement, and worse than discouragement, of contemptuous + coquetry, to possess her at any cost he could afford;—to use all + this that Charley had, in order that she might judiciously arrive at the + decision whether she would take him or his rival, left one lost in + admiration. And then, not to waste a moment! To reach town one evening, + and next morning by ten o’clock to have that expert safe in the launch on + his way up the river to the phosphate diggings! The very audacity of such + unscrupulousness commanded my respect: successful dishonor generally wins + louder applause than successful virtue. But to be married to her! Oh! not + for worlds! Charley might meet such emergency, but poor John, never! + </p> + <p> + I nearly walked into Mrs. Weguelin and Mrs. Gregory taking their customary + air slowly in South Place. + </p> + <p> + “But why a steel wasp?” I said at once to Mrs. Weguelin. It was a more + familiar way of beginning with the little, dignified lady than would have + been at all possible, or suitable, if we had not had that little joke + about the piano snobile between us. As it was, she was not wholly + displeased. These Kings Port old ladies grew, I suspect, very slowly and + guardedly accustomed to any outsider; they allowed themselves very seldom + to suffer any form of abruptness from him, or from any one, for that + matter. But, once they were reassured as to him, then they might sometimes + allow the privileged person certain departures from their own rule of + deportment, because his conventions were recognized to be different from + theirs. Moreover, in reminding Mrs. Weguelin of the steel wasp, I had put + my abruptness in “quotations,” so to speak, by the tone I gave it, just as + people who are particular in speech can often interpolate a word of + current slang elegantly by means of the shade of emphasis which they lay + upon it. + </p> + <p> + So Mrs. Weguelin smiled and her dark eyes danced a little. “You remember I + said that, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember everything that you said.” + </p> + <p> + “How much have you seen of the creature?” demanded Mrs. Gregory, with her + head pretty high. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m seeing more, and more, and more every minute. She’s rather + endless.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin looked reproachful. “You surely cannot admire her, too?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory hadn’t understood me. “Oh, if you really can keep her away, + you’re welcome!” + </p> + <p> + “I only meant,” I explained to the ladies, “that you don’t really begin to + see her till you have seen her: it’s afterward, when you’re out of reach + of the spell.” And I told them of the interview which I had not been able + to tell to Miss Josephine and Miss Eliza. “I doubt if it lasted more than + four minutes,” I assured them. + </p> + <p> + “Up the river?” repeated Mrs. Gregory + </p> + <p> + “At the landing,” I repeated. And the ladies consulted each other’s + expressions. But that didn’t bother me any more. + </p> + <p> + “And you can admire her?” Mrs. Weguelin persisted. + </p> + <p> + “May I tell you exactly, precisely?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do!” they both exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I think many wise men would find her immensely desirable—as + somebody else’s wife!” + </p> + <p> + At this remark Mrs. Weguelin dropped her eyes, but I knew they were + dancing beneath their lids. “I should not have permitted myself to say + that, but I am glad that it has been said.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory turned to her companion. “Shall we call to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you feel it must be done?” returned Mrs. Weguelin, and then she + addressed me. “Do you know a Mr. Beverly Rodgers?” + </p> + <p> + I gave him a golden recommendation and took my leave of the ladies. + </p> + <p> + So they were going to do the handsome thing; they would ring the + Cornerlys’ bell; they would cross the interloping threshold, they would + recognize the interloping girl; and this meant that they had given it up. + It meant that Miss Eliza had given it up, too, had at last abandoned her + position that the marriage would never take place. And her own act had + probably drawn this down upon her. When the trustee of that estate had + told her of the apparent failure of the phosphates, she had hailed it as + an escape for her beloved John, and for all of them, because she made sure + that Hortense would never marry a virtually penniless man. And when the + work went on, and the rich fortune was unearthed after all, her influence + had caused that revelation to be delayed because she was so confident that + the engagement would be broken. But she had reckoned without Hortense; + worse than that, she had reckoned without John Mayrant; in her meddling + attempt to guide his affairs in the way that she believed would be best + for him, she forgot that the boy whom she had brought up was no longer a + child, and thus she unpardonably ignored his rights as a man. And now Miss + Josephine’s disapproval was vindicated, and her own casuistry was doubly + punished. Miss Rieppe’s astute journey of investigation—for her + purpose had evidently become suspected by some of them beforehand—had + forced Miss Eliza to disclose the truth about the phosphates to her nephew + before it should be told him by the girl herself; and the intolerable + position of apparent duplicity precipitated two wholly inevitable actions + on his part; he had bound himself more than ever to marry Hortense, and he + had made a furious breach with his Aunt Eliza. That was what his letter + had contained; this time he had banished himself from that house. What was + his Aunt Eliza going to do about it? I wondered. She was a stiff, if + indiscreet, old lady, and it certainly did not fall within her view of the + proprieties that young people should take their elders to task in furious + letters. But she had been totally in the wrong, and her fault was + irreparable, because important things had happened in consequence of it; + she might repent the fault in sackcloth and ashes, but she couldn’t stop + the things. Would she, then, honorably wear the sackcloth, or would she + dishonestly shirk it under the false issue of her nephew’s improper tone + to her? Women can justify themselves with more appalling skill than men. + </p> + <p> + One drop there was in all this bitter bucket, which must have tasted sweet + to John. He had resigned from the Custom House: Juno had got it right this + time, though she hadn’t a notion of the real reason for John’s act. This + act had been, since morning, lost for me, so to speak, in the shuffle of + more absorbing events; and it now rose to view again in my mind as a + telling stroke in the full-length portrait that all his acts had been + painting of the boy during the last twenty-four hours. Notwithstanding a + meddlesome aunt, and an arriving sweetheart, and imminent wedlock, he + hadn’t forgotten to stop “taking orders from a negro” at the very first + opportunity which came to him; his phosphates had done this for him, at + least, and I should have the pleasure of correcting Juno at tea. + </p> + <p> + But I did not have this pleasure. They were all in an excitement over + something else, and my own different excitement hadn’t a chance against + this greater one; for people seldom wish to hear what you have to say, + even under the most favorable circumstances, and never when they have + anything to say themselves. With an audience so hotly preoccupied I + couldn’t have sat on Juno effectively at all, and therefore I kept it to + myself, and attended very slightly to what they were telling me about the + Daughters of Dixie. + </p> + <p> + I bowed absently to the poetess. “And your poem?” I said. “A great + success, I am sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, didn’t you hear me say so?” said the upcountry bride; and then, + after a smile at the others, “I’m sure your flowers were graciously + accepted.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask Miss Josephine St. Michael,” I replied. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, oh, oh!” went the bride. “How would she know?” + </p> + <p> + I gave myself no pains to improve or arrest this tiresome joke, and they + went back to their Daughters of Dixie; but it is rather singular how + sometimes an utterly absurd notion will be the cause of our taking a step + which we had not contemplated. I did carry some flowers to Miss La Heu the + next day. I was at some trouble to find any; for in Kings Port shops of + this kind are by no means plentiful, and it was not until I had paid a + visit to a quite distant garden at the extreme northwestern edge of the + town that I lighted upon anything worthy of the girl behind the counter. + The Exchange itself was apt to have flowers for sale, but I hardly saw my + way to buying them there, and then immediately offering them to the fair + person who had sold them to me. As it was, I did much better; for what I + brought her were decidedly superior to any that were at the Exchange when + I entered it at lunch time. + </p> + <p> + They were, as the up-country bride would have put it, “graciously + accepted.” Miss La Heu stood them in water on the counter beside her + ledger. She was looking lovely. + </p> + <p> + “I expected you yesterday,” she said. “The new Lady Baltimore was ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if it is not all eaten yet—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Not a slice gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, nobody does your art justice here!” + </p> + <p> + “Go and sit down at your table, please.” + </p> + <p> + It was really quite difficult to say to her from that distance the sort of + things that I wished to say; but there seemed to be no help for it, and I + did my best. + </p> + <p> + “I shall miss my lunches here very much when I’m gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you say coffee to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Chocolate. I shall miss—” + </p> + <p> + “And the lettuce sandwiches?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You don’t realize how much these lunches—” + </p> + <p> + “Have cost you?” She seemed determined to keep laughing. + </p> + <p> + “You have said it. They have cost me my—” + </p> + <p> + “I can give you the receipt, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “The receipt?” + </p> + <p> + “For Lady Baltimore, to take with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to give me a receipt for a lost heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, his heart! General, listen to—” From habit she had turned to + where her dog used to lie; and sudden pain swept over her face and was + mastered. “Never mind!” she quickly resumed. “Please don’t speak about it. + And you have a heart somewhere; for it was very nice in you to come in + yesterday morning after—after the bridge.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope I have a heart,” I began, rising; for, really, I could not go on + in this way, sitting down away back at the lunch table. + </p> + <p> + But the door opened, and Hortense Rieppe came into the Woman’s Exchange. + </p> + <p> + It was at me that she first looked, and she gave me the slightest bow + possible, the least sign of conventional recognition that a movement of + the head could make and be visible at all; she didn’t bend her head down, + she tilted it ever so little up. It wasn’t new to me, this form of + greeting, and I knew that she had acquired it at Newport, and that it + denoted, all too accurately, the size of my importance in her eyes; she + did it, as she did everything, with perfection. Then she turned to Eliza + La Heu, whose face had become miraculously sweet. + </p> + <p> + “Good morning,” said Hortense. + </p> + <p> + It sounded from a quiet well of reserve music; just a cupful of melodious + tone dipped lightly out of the surface. Her face hadn’t become anything; + but it was equally miraculous in its total void of all expression relating + to this moment, or to any moment; just her beauty, her permanent + stationary beauty, was there glowing in it and through it, not skin deep, + but going back and back into her lazy eyes, and shining from within the + modulated bloom of her color and the depths of her amber hair. She was + choosing, for this occasion, to be as impersonal as some radiant hour in + nature, some mellow, motionless day when the leaves have turned, but have + not fallen, and it is drowsily warm; but it wasn’t so much of nature that + she, in her harmonious lustre, reminded me, as of some beautiful + silken-shaded lamp, from which color rather than light came with subdued + ampleness. + </p> + <p> + I saw her eyes settle upon the flowers that I had brought Eliza La Heu. + </p> + <p> + “How beautiful those are!” she remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Is there something that you wish?” inquired Miss La Heu, always + miraculously sweet. + </p> + <p> + “Some of your good things for lunch; a very little, if you will be so + kind.” + </p> + <p> + I had gone back to my table while the “very little” was being selected, + and I felt, in spite of how slightly she counted me, that it would be + inadequate in me to remain completely dumb. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Mayrant is still at the Custom House?” I observed. + </p> + <p> + “For a few days, yes. Happily we shall soon break that connection.” And + she smelt my flowers. + </p> + <p> + “‘We,’” I thought to myself, “is rather tremendous.” + </p> + <p> + It grew more tremendous in the silence as Eliza La Heu brought me my + orders. Miss Rieppe did not seat herself to take the light refreshment + which she found enough for lunch. Her plate and cup were set for her, but + she walked about, now with one, and now with the other, taking her time + over it, and pausing here and there at some article of the Exchange stock. + </p> + <p> + Of course, she hadn’t come there for any lunch; the Cornerlys had midday + lunch and dined late; these innovated hours were a part of Kings Port’s + deep suspicion of the Cornerlys; but what now became interesting was her + evident indifference to our perceiving that lunch was merely a pretext + with her; in fact, I think she wished it to be perceived, and I also think + that those turns which she took about the Exchange—her apparent + inspection of an old mahogany table, her examination of a pewter set—were + a symbol (and meant to be a symbol) of how she had all the time there was, + and the possession of everything she wished including the situation, and + that she enjoyed having this sink in while she was rearranging whatever + she had arranged to say, in consequence of finding that I should also hear + it. And how well she was worth looking at, no matter whether she stood, or + moved, or what she did! Her age lay beyond the reach of the human eye; if + she was twenty-five, she was marvelous in her mastery of her appearance; + if she was thirty-four, she was marvelous in her mastery of perpetuating + it, and by no other means than perfect dress personal to herself (for she + had taken the fashion and welded it into her own plasticity) and perfect + health; for without a trace of the athletic, her graceful shape teemed + with elasticity. There was a touch of “sport” in the parasol she had laid + down; and with all her blended serenity there was a touch of “sport” in + her. Experience could teach her beauty nothing more; it wore the look of + having been made love to by many married men. + </p> + <p> + Quite suddenly the true light flashed upon me. I had been slow-sighted + indeed! So that was what she had come here for to-day! Miss Hortense was + going to pay her compliments to Miss La Heu. I believe that my sight might + still have been slow but for that miraculous sweetness upon the face of + Eliza. She was ready for the compliments! Well, I sat expectant—and + disappointment was by no means my lot. + </p> + <p> + Hortense finished her lunch. “And so this interesting place is where you + work?” + </p> + <p> + Eliza, thus addressed, assented. + </p> + <p> + “And you furnish wedding cakes also?” + </p> + <p> + Eliza was continuously and miraculously sweet. “The Exchange includes + that.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall hope you will be present to taste some of yours on the day it is + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall accept the invitation if my friends send me one.” + </p> + <p> + No blood flowed from Hortense at this, and she continued with the same + smooth deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “The list is of necessity very small; but I shall see that it includes + you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not going to postpone it any more, then?” + </p> + <p> + No blood flowed at this, either. “I doubt if John—if Mr. Mayrant—would + brook further delay, and my father seems stronger, at last. How much do I + owe you for your very good food?” + </p> + <p> + It is a pity that a larger audience could not have been there to enjoy + this skilful duet, for it held me hanging on every musical word of it. + There, at the far back end of the long room, I sat alone at my table, + pretending to be engaged over a sandwich that was no more in existence—external, + I mean—and a totally empty cup of chocolate. I lifted the cup, and + bowed over the plate, and used the paper Japanese napkin, and generally + went through the various discreet paces of eating, quite breathless, all + the while, to know which of them was coming out ahead. There was no + fairness in their positions; Hortense had Eliza in a cage, penned in by + every fact; but it doesn’t do to go too near some birds, even when they’re + caged, and, while these two birds had been giving their sweet + manifestations of song, Eliza had driven a peck or two home through the + bars, which, though they did not draw visible blood, as I have said, + probably taught Hortense that a Newport education is not the only + instruction which fits you for drawing-room war to the knife. + </p> + <p> + Her small reckoning was paid, and she had drawn on one long, tawny glove. + Even this act was a luxury to watch, so full it was of the feminine, of + the stretching, indolent ease that the flesh and the spirit of this + creature invariably seemed to move with. But why didn’t she go? This + became my wonder now, while she slowly drew on the second glove. She was + taking more time than it needed. + </p> + <p> + “Your flowers are for sale, too?” + </p> + <p> + This, after her silence, struck me as being something planned out after + her original plan. The original plan had finished with that second + assertion of her ownership of John (or, I had better say, of his ownership + in her), that doubt she had expressed as to his being willing to consent + to any further postponement of their marriage. Of course she had expected, + and got herself ready for, some thrust on the postponement subject. + </p> + <p> + Eliza crossed from behind her counter to where the Exchange flowers stood + on the opposite side of the room and took some of them up. + </p> + <p> + “But those are inferior,” said Hortense. “These.” And she touched rightly + the bowl in which my roses stood close beside Eliza’s ledger. + </p> + <p> + Eliza paused for one second. “Those are not for sale.” + </p> + <p> + Hortense paused, too. Then she hung to it. “They are so much the best.” + She was holding her purse. + </p> + <p> + “I think so, too,” said Eliza. “But I cannot let any one have them.” + </p> + <p> + Hortense put her purse away. “You know best. Shall you furnish us flowers + as well as cake?” + </p> + <p> + Eliza’s sweetness rose an octave, softer and softer. “Why, they have + flowers there! Didn’t you know?” + </p> + <p> + And to this last and frightful peck through the bars Hortense found no + retaliation. With a bow to Eliza, and a total oblivion of me, she went out + of the Exchange. She had flaunted “her” John in Eliza’s face, she had, as + they say, rubbed it in that he was “her” John;—but was it such a + neat, tidy victory, after all? She had given away the last word to Eliza, + presented her with that poisonous speech which when translated meant:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he’s ‘your’ John; and you’re climbing up him into houses where you’d + otherwise be arrested for trespass.” For it was in one of the various St. + Michael houses that the marriage would be held, owing to the nomadic state + of the Rieppes. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Hortense had gone altogether too close to the cage at the end, and, + in that repetition of her taunt about “furnishing” supplies for the + wedding, she had at length betrayed something which her skill and the + intricate enamel of her experience had hitherto, and with entire success, + concealed—namely, the latent vulgarity of the woman. She was + wearing, for the sake of Kings Port, her best behavior, her most knowing + form, and, indeed it was a well-done imitation of the real thing; it would + last through most occasions, and it would deceive most people. But here + was the trouble: she was wearing it; while, through the whole encounter, + Eliza La Heu had worn nothing but her natural and perfect dignity; yet + with that disadvantage (for good breeding, alas!, is at times a sort of + disadvantage, and can be battered down and covered with mud so that its + own fine grain is invisible) Eliza had, after a somewhat undecisive + battle, got in that last frightful peck! But what had led Hortense, after + she had come through pretty well, to lose her temper and thus, at the + finish, expose to Eliza her weakest position? That her clothes were paid + for by a Newport lady who had taken her to Worth, that her wedding feast + was to be paid for by the bridegroom, these were not facts which Eliza + would deign to use as weapons; but she was marrying inside the doors of + Eliza’s Kings Port, that had never opened to admit her before, and she had + slipped into putting this chance into Eliza’s hand—and how had she + come to do this? + </p> + <p> + To be sure, my vision had been slow! Hortense had seen, through her thick + veil, Eliza’s interest in John in the first minute of her arrival on the + bridge, that minute when John had run up to Eliza after the automobile had + passed over poor General. And Hortense had not revealed herself at once, + because she wanted a longer look at them. Well, she had got it, and she + had got also a look at her affianced John when he was in the fire-eating + mood, and had displayed the conduct appropriate to 1840, while Charley’s + display had been so much more modern. And so first she had prudently + settled that awkward phosphate difficulty, and next she had paid this + little visit to Eliza in order to have the pleasure of telling her in four + or five different ways, and driving it in deep, and turning it round: + “Don’t you wish you may get him?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s all clear as day,” I said to myself. “But what does her loss of + temper mean?” + </p> + <p> + Eliza was writing at her ledger. The sweetness hadn’t entirely gone; it + was too soon for that, and besides, she knew I must be looking at her. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t you have told her they were my flowers?” I asked her at the + counter, as I prepared to depart. Eliza did not look up from her ledger. + “Do you think she would have believed me?” + </p> + <p> + “And why shouldn’t—” + </p> + <p> + “Go out!” she interrupted imperiously and with a stamp of her foot. + “You’ve been here long enough!” + </p> + <p> + You may imagine my amazement at this. It was not until I had reached Mrs. + Trevise’s, and was sitting down to answer a note which had been left for + me, that light again came. Hortense Rieppe had thought those flowers were + from John Mayrant, and Eliza had let her think so. + </p> + <p> + Yes, that was light, a good bright light shed on the matter; but a still + more brilliant beam was cast by the up-country bride when I came into the + dining-room. I told her myself, at once, that I had taken flowers to Miss + La Heu; I preferred she should hear this from me before she learned it + from the smiling lips of gossip. It surprised me that she should + immediately inquire what kind of flowers? + </p> + <p> + “Why, roses,” I answered; and she went into peals of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Pray share the jest,” I begged her with some dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t you know,” she replied, “the language that roses from a single + gentleman to a young lady speak in Kings Port?” + </p> + <p> + I stood staring and stiff, taking it in, taking myself, and Eliza, and + Hortense, and the implicated John, all in. + </p> + <p> + “Why, aivrybody in Kings Port knows that!” said the bride; and now my + mirth rose even above hers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII: Doing the Handsome Thing + </h2> + <p> + It by no means lessened my pleasure to discern that Hortense must feel + herself to be in a predicament; and as I sat writing my answer to the + note, which was from Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael and contained an invitation + to me for the next afternoon, I thought of those pilots whose dangers have + come down to us from distant times through the songs of ancient poets. The + narrow and tempestuous channel between Scylla and Charybdis bristled + unquestionably with violent problems, but with none, I should suppose, + that called for a nicer hand upon the wheel, or an eye more alert, than + this steering of your little trireme to a successful marriage, between one + man who believed himself to be your destined bridegroom and another who + expected to be so, meanwhile keeping each in ignorance of how close you + were sailing to the other. In Hortense’s place I should have wished to + hasten the wedding now, have it safely performed this afternoon, say, or + to-morrow morning; thus precipitated by some invaluable turn in the health + of her poor dear father. But she had worn it out, his health, by playing + it for decidedly as much as it could bear; it couldn’t be used again + without risk; the date must stand fixed; and, uneasy as she might have + begun to be about John, Hortense must, with no shortening of the course, + get her boat in safe without smashing it against either John or Charley. I + wondered a little that she should feel any uncertainty about her affianced + lover. She must know how much his word was to him, and she had had his + word twice, given her the second time to put his own honor right with her + on the score of the phosphates. But perhaps Hortense’s rich experiences of + life had taught her that a man’s word to a woman should not be subjected + to the test of another woman’s advent. On the whole, I suppose it was + quite natural those flowers should annoy her, and equally natural that + Eliza, the minx, should allow them to do so! There’s a joy to the marrow + in watching your enemy harried and discomfited by his own gratuitous + contrivances; you look on serenely at a show which hasn’t cost you a + groat. However, poor Eliza had not been so serene at the very end, when + she stormed out at me. For this I did not have to forgive her, of course, + little as I had merited such treatment. Had she not accepted my flowers? + But it was a gratification to reflect that in my sentimental passages with + her I had not gone to any great length; nothing, do I ever find, is so + irksome as the sense of having unwittingly been in a false position. Was + John, on his side, in love with her? Was it possible he would fail in his + word? So with these thoughts, while answering and accepting Mrs. Weguelin + St. Michael’s invitation to make one of a party of strangers to whom she + was going to show another old Kings Port church, “where many of my + ancestors lie,” as her note informed me, I added one sentence which had + nothing to do with the subject “She is a steel wasp,” I ventured to say. + And when on the next afternoon I met the party at the church, I received + from the little lady a look of highly spiced comprehension as she gently + remarked, “I was glad to get your acceptance.” + </p> + <p> + When I went down to the dinner-table, Juno sat in her best clothes, still + discussing the Daughters of Dixie. + </p> + <p> + I can’t say that I took much more heed of this at dinner than I had done + at tea; but I was interested to hear Juno mention that she, too, intended + to call upon Hortense Rieppe. Kings Port, she said, must take a consistent + position; and for her part, so far as behavior went, she didn’t see much + to choose between the couple. “As to whether Mr. Mayrant had really + concealed the discovery of his fortune,” she continued, “I asked Miss + Josephine—in a perfectly nice way, of course. But old Mr. St. + Michael Beaugarcon, who has always had the estate in charge, did that. It + is only a life estate, unless Mr. Mayrant has lawful issue. Well, he will + have that now, and all that money will be his to squander.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Carola had written me again this morning, but I had been in no haste + to open her letter; my neglect of the Bombos did not weigh too heavily + upon me, I fear, but I certainly did put off reading what I expected to be + a reprimand. And concerning this I was right; her first words betokened + reprimand at once. “My dear nephew Augustus,” she began, in her fine, + elegant handwriting. That was always her mode of address to me when + something was coming, while at other times it would be, less portentously, + “My dear Augustus,” or “My dear nephew “; but whenever my name and my + relationship to her occurred conjointly, I took the communication away + with me to some corner, and opened it in solitude. + </p> + <p> + It wasn’t about the Bombos, though; and for what she took me to task I was + able to defend myself, I think, quite adequately. She found fault with me + for liking the South too much, and this she based upon the enthusiastic + accounts of Kings Port and its people that I had written to her; nor had + she at all approved of my remarks on the subject of the negro, called + forth by Daddy Ben and his grandson Charles Cotesworth. + </p> + <p> + “When I sent you (wrote Aunt Carola) to admire Kings Port good-breeding, I + did not send you to forget your country. Remember that those people were + its mortal enemies; that besides their treatment of our prisoners in Libby + and Andersonville (which killed my brother Alexander) they displayed in + their dealings, both social and political, an arrogance in success and a + childish petulance at opposition, which we who saw and suffered can never + forget, any more than we can forget our loved ones who laid down their + lives for this cause.” + </p> + <p> + These were not the only words with which Aunt Carola reproved what she + termed my “disloyalty,” but they will serve to indicate her feeling about + the Civil War. It was—on her side—precisely the feeling of all + the Kings Port old ladies on Heir side. But why should it be mine? And so, + after much thinking how I might best reply respectfully yet say to Aunt + Carola what my feeling was, I sat down upstairs at my window, and, after + some preliminary sentences, wrote:— + </p> + <p> + “There are dead brothers here also, who, like your brother, laid down + their lives for what they believed was their country, and whom their + sisters never can forget as you can never forget him. I read their names + upon sad church tablets, and their boy faces look out at me from cherished + miniatures and dim daguerreotypes. Upon their graves the women who mourn + them leave flowers as you leave flowers upon the grave of your young + soldier. You will tell me, perhaps, that since the bereavement is equal, I + have not justified my sympathy for these people. But the bereavement was + not equal. More homes here were robbed by death of their light and promise + than with us; and to this you must add the material desolation of the + homes themselves. Our roofs were not laid in ashes, and to-day we sit in + affluence while they sit in privation. You will say to this, perhaps, that + they brought it upon themselves. But even granting that they did so, + surely to suffer and to lose is more bitter than to suffer and to win. My + dear aunt, you could not see what I have seen here, and write to me as you + do; and if those years have left upon your heart a scar which will not + vanish, do not ask me, who came afterward, to wear the scar also. I should + then resemble certain of the younger ones here, with less excuse than is + theirs. As for the negro, forgive me if I assure you that you retain an + Abolitionist exaltation for a creature who does not exist, or whose + existence is an ineffectual drop in the bucket, a creature on grateful + knees raising faithful eyes to one who has struck off his chains of + slavery, whereas the creature who does exist is—” + </p> + <p> + I paused here in my letter to Aunt Carola, and sought for some fitting + expression that should characterize for her with sufficient severity the + new type of deliberately worthless negro; and as I sought, my eyes + wandered to the garden next door, the garden of the Cornerlys. On a bench + near a shady arrangement of vines over bars sat Hortense Rieppe. She was + alone, and, from her attitude, seemed to be thinking deeply. The high + walls of the garden shut her into a privacy that her position near the + shady vines still more increased. It was evident that she had come here + for the sake of being alone, and I regretted that she was so turned from + me that I could not see her face. But her solitude did not long continue; + there came into view a gentleman of would-be venerable appearance, who + approached her with a walk carefully constructed for public admiration, + and who, upon reaching her, bent over with the same sort of footlight + elaboration and gave her a paternal kiss. I did not need to hear her call + him father; he was so obviously General Rieppe, the prudent hero of + Chattanooga, that words would have been perfectly superfluous in his + identification. + </p> + <p> + I was destined upon another day to hear the tones of his voice, and + thereupon may as well state now that they belonged altogether with the + rest of him. There is a familiar type of Northern fraud, and a Southern + type, equally familiar, but totally different in appearance. The Northern + type has the straight, flat, earnest hair, the shaven upper lip, the + chin-beard, and the benevolent religious expression. He will be the + president of several charities, and the head of one great business. He + plays no cards, drinks no wine, and warns young men to beware of + temptation. He is as genial as a hair-sofa; and he is seldom found out by + the public unless some financial crash in general affairs uncovers his + cheating, which lies most often beyond the law’s reach; and because he + cannot be put in jail, he quite honestly believes heaven is his + destination. We see less of him since we have ceased to be a religious + country, religion no longer being an essential disguise for him. The + Southern type, with his unction and his juleps, is better company, unless + he is the hero of too many of his own anecdotes. He is commonly the + possessor of a poetic gaze, a mane of silvery hair, and a noble neck. As + war days and cotton-factor days recede into a past more and more filmed + over with romance, he too grows rare among us, and I regret it, for he was + in truth a picturesque figure. General Rieppe was perfect. + </p> + <p> + At first I was sorry that the distance they were from me rendered hearing + what they were saying impossible; very soon, however, the frame of my open + window provided me with a living picture which would have been actually + spoiled had the human voice disturbed its eloquent pantomime. + </p> + <p> + General Rieppe’s daughter responded to her father’s caress but languidly, + turning to him her face, with its luminous, stationary beauty. He pointed + to the house, and then waved his hand toward the bench where she sat; and + she, in response to this, nodded slightly. Upon which the General, after + another kiss of histrionic paternity administered to her forehead, left + her sitting and proceeded along the garden walk at a stately pace, until I + could no longer see him. Hortense, left alone upon the bench, looked down + at the folds of her dress, extended a hand and slowly rearranged one of + them, and then, with the same hand, felt her hair from front to back. This + had scarce been accomplished when the General reappeared, ushering Juno + along the walk, and bearing a chair with him. When they turned the corner + at the arbor, Hortense rose, and greetings ensued. Few objects could be + straighter than was Juno’s back; her card-case was in her hand, but her + pocket was not quite large enough for the whole of her pride, which stuck + out so that it could have been seen from a greater distance than my + window. The General would have departed, placing his chair for the + visitor, when Hortense waved for him an inviting hand toward the bench + beside her; he waved a similarly inviting hand, looking at Juno, who + thereupon sat firmly down upon the chair. At this the General hovered + heavily, looking at his daughter, who gave him no look in return, as she + engaged in conversation with Juno; and presently the General left them. + Juno’s back and Hortense’s front, both entirely motionless as they + interviewed each other’ presented a stiff appearance, with Juno half + turned in her seat and Hortense’s glance following her slight movement; + the two then rose, as the General came down the walk with two chairs and + Mrs. Gregory and Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael. Juno, with a bow to them, + approached Hortense by a step or two, a brief touch of their fingers was + to be seen, and Juno’s departure took place, attended by the heavy + hovering of General Rieppe. + </p> + <p> + “That’s why!” I said to myself aloud, suddenly, at my open window. + Immediately, however, I added, “but can it be?” And in my mind a whole + little edifice of reasons for Hortense’s apparent determination to marry + John instantly fabricated itself—and then fell down. + </p> + <p> + Through John she was triumphantly bringing stiff Kings Port to her, was + forcing them to accept her. But this was scarce enough temptation for + Hortense to marry; she could do very well without Kings Port—indeed, + she was not very likely to show herself in it, save to remind them, now + and then, that she was there, and that they could not keep her out any + more; this might amuse her a little, but the society itself would not + amuse her in the least. What place had it for her to smoke her cigarettes + in? + </p> + <p> + Eliza La Heu, then? Spite? The pleasure of taking something that somebody + else wanted? The pleasure of spoiling somebody else’s pleasure? Or, more + accurately, the pleasure of power? Well, yes; that might be it, if + Hortense Rieppe were younger in years, and younger, especially, in soul; + but her museum was too richly furnished with specimens of the chase, she + had collected too many bits and bibelots from life’s Hotel Druot and the + great bazaar of female competition, to pay so great a price as marriage + for merely John; particularly when a lady, even in Newport, can have but + one husband at a time in her collection. If she did actually love John, as + Beverly Rodgers had reluctantly come to believe, it was most inappropriate + in her! Had I followed out the train of reasoning which lay coiled up + inside the word inappropriate, I might have reached the solution which + eventually Hortense herself gave me, and the jewelled recesses of her + nature would have blazed still more brilliantly to my eyes to-day; but in + truth, my soul wasn’t old enough yet to work Hortense out by itself, + unaided! + </p> + <p> + While Mrs. Gregory and Mrs. Weguelin sat on their chairs, and Hortense sat + on her bench, tea was brought and a table laid, behind whose whiteness and + silver Hortense began slight offices with cups and sugar tongs. She looked + inquiry at her visitors, in answer to which Mrs. Gregory indicated + acceptance, and Mrs. Weguelin refusal. The beauty of Hortense’s face had + strangely increased since the arrival of these two visitors. It shone + resplendent behind the silver and the white cloth, and her movement, as + she gave the cup to Mrs. Gregory St. Michael, was one of complete grace + and admirable propriety. But once she looked away from them in the + direction of the path. Her two visitors rose and left her, Mrs. Gregory + setting her tea-cup down with a gesture that said she would take no more, + and, after their bows of farewell, Hortense sat alone again pulling about + the tea things. + </p> + <p> + I saw that by the table lay a card-case on the ground, evidently dropped + by Mrs. Gregory; but Hortense could not see it where she sat. Her quick + look along the path heralded more company and the General with more + chairs. Young people now began to appear, the various motions of whom were + more animated than the approaches and greetings and farewells of their + elders; chairs were moved and exchanged, the General was useful in + handling cups, and a number of faces unknown to me came and went, some of + them elderly ones whom I had seen in church, or passed while walking; the + black dresses of age mingled with the brighter colors of youth; and on her + bench behind the cups sat Hortense, or rose up at right moments, radiant, + restrained and adequate, receiving with deferential attention the remarks + of some dark-clothed elder, or, with sufficiently interested countenance, + inquiring something from a brighter one of her own generation; but twice I + saw her look up the garden path. None of them stayed long, although when + they were all gone the shadow of the garden wall had come as far as the + arbor; and once again Hortense sat alone behind the table, leaning back + with arms folded, and looking straight in front of her. At last she + stirred, and rose slowly, and then, with a movement which was the + perfection of timidity, began to advance, as John, with his Aunt Eliza, + came along the path. To John, Hortense with familiar yet discreet + brightness gave a left hand, as she waited for the old lady; and then the + old lady went through with it. What that embrace of acknowledgment cost + her cannot be measured, and during its process John stood like a sentinel. + Possibly this was the price of his forgiveness to his Aunt Eliza. + </p> + <p> + The visitors accepted tea, and the beauty in Hortense’s face was now + supreme. The old lady sat, forgetting to drink her tea, but very still in + outward attitude, as she talked with Hortense; and the sight of one hand + in its glove lying motionless upon her best dress, suddenly almost drew + unexpected tears to my eyes. John was nearly as quiet as she, but the + glove that he held was twisted between his fingers. I expected that he + would stay with his Hortense when his aunt took her leave; he, however, + was evidently expected by the old lady to accompany her out and back, I + suppose, to her house, as was proper. + </p> + <p> + But John’s departure from Hortense differed from his meeting her. She gave + no left hand to him now; she gazed at him, and then, as the old lady began + to go toward the house, she moved a step toward him, and then she cast + herself into his arms! It was no acting, this, no skilful simulation; her + head sank upon his shoulder, and true passion spoke in every line of that + beautiful surrendered form, as it leaned against her lover’s. + </p> + <p> + “So that’s why!” I exclaimed, once more aloud. + </p> + <p> + It was but a moment; and John, released, followed Miss Eliza. The old lady + walked slowly, with that half-failing step that betokens the body’s + weariness after great mental or moral strain. Indeed, as John regained her + side, she put her arm in his as if her feebleness needed his support. Thus + they went away together, the aunt and her beloved boy, who had so sorely + grieved and disappointed her. + </p> + <p> + But if this sight touched me, this glimpse of the vanquished leaving the + field after supreme acknowledgment of defeat, upon Hortense it wrought + another effect altogether. She stood looking after them, and as she + looked, the whole woman from head to foot, motionless as she was, seemed + to harden. Yet still she looked, until at length, slowly turning, her eyes + chanced to fall upon Mrs. Gregory St. Michael’s card-case. There it lay, + the symbol of Kings Port’s capitulation. She swooped down and up with a + flying curve of grace, holding her prey caught; and then, catching also + her handsome skirts on either side, she danced like a whirling fan among + the empty chairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII: Again the Replacers + </h2> + <p> + But a little while, and all that I had just witnessed in such vivid + dumb-show might have seemed to me in truth some masque; so smooth had it + been, and voiceless, coming and going like a devised fancy. And after the + last of the players was gone from the stage, leaving the white cloth, and + the silver, and the cups, and the groups of chairs near the pleasant + arbor, I watched the deserted garden whence the sunlight was slowly + departing, and it seemed to me more than ever like some empty and charming + scene in a playhouse, to which the comedians would in due time return to + repeat their delicate pantomime. But these were mental indulgences, with + which I sat playing until the sight of my interrupted letter to Aunt + Carola on the table before me brought the reality of everything back into + my thoughts; and I shook my head over Miss Eliza. I remembered that hand + of hers, lying in despondent acquiescence upon her lap, as the old lady + sat in her best dress, formally and faithfully accepting the woman whom + her nephew John had brought upon them as his bride-elect—formally + and faithfully accepting this distasteful person, and thus atoning as best + she could to her beloved nephew for the wrong that her affection had led + her to do him in that ill-starred and inexcusable tampering with his + affairs. + </p> + <p> + But there was my letter waiting. I took my pen, and finished what I had to + say about the negro and the injustice we had done to him, as well as to + our own race, by the Fifteenth Amendment. I wrote:— + </p> + <p> + “I think Northerners must often seem to these people strangely obtuse in + their attitude. And they deserve such opinion, since all they need to do + is come here and see for themselves what the War did to the South. + </p> + <p> + “You may have a perfectly just fight with a man and beat him rightly; but + if you are able to go on with your work next day, while his health is so + damaged that for a long while he limps about as a cripple, you must not + look up from your busy thriving and reproach him with his helplessness, + and remind him of its cause; nor must you be surprised that he remembers + the fight longer than you have time for. I know that the North meant to be + magnanimous, that the North was magnanimous, that the spirit of Grant at + Appomattox filled many breasts; and I know that the magnanimity was not + met by those who led the South after Lee’s retirement, and before + reconstruction set in, and that the Fifteenth Amendment was brought on by + their own doings: when have two wrongs made a right? And to place the + negro above these people was an atrocity. You cannot expect them to + inquire very industriously how magnanimous this North meant to be, when + they have suffered at her hands worse, far worse, than France suffered + from Germany’s after 1870. + </p> + <p> + “I do think there should be a different spirit among some of the + later-born, but I have come to understand even the slights and suspicions + from which I here and there suffer, since to their minds, shut in by + circumstance, I’m always a ‘Yankee.’ + </p> + <p> + “We are prosperous; and prosperity does not bind, it merely assembles + people—at dinners and dances. It is adversity that binds—beside + the gravestone, beneath the desolated roof. Could you come here and see + what I have seen, the retrospect of suffering, the long, lingering + convalescence, the small outlook of vigor to come, and the steadfast + sodality of affliction and affection and fortitude, your kind but + unenlightened heart would be wrung, as mine has been, and is being, at + every turn.” + </p> + <p> + After I had posted this reply to Aunt Carola, I had some fears that my pen + had run away with me, and that she might now descend upon me with that + reproof which she knew so well how to exercise in cases of disrespect. But + there was actually a certain pathos in her mildness when it came. She felt + it her duty to go over a good deal of history first, but:— + </p> + <p> + “I do not understand the present generation,” she finished, “and I suppose + that I was not meant to.” + </p> + <p> + The little sigh in these words did great credit to Aunt Carola. + </p> + <p> + This vindication off my mind, and relieved by it of the more general + thoughts about Kings Port and the South, which the pantomime of Kings + Port’s forced capitulation to Hortense had raised in me, I returned to the + personal matters between that young woman and John, and Charley. How much + did Charley know? How much would Charley stand? How much would John stand, + if he came to know? + </p> + <p> + Well, the scene in the garden now helped me to answer these questions much + better than I could have answered them before its occurrence. With one + fact—the great fact of love—established, it was not difficult + to account for at least one or two of the several things that puzzled me. + There could be no doubt that Hortense loved John Mayrant, loved him beyond + her own control. When this love had begun, made no matter. Perhaps it + began on the bridge, when the money was torn, and Eliza La Heu had + appeared. The Kings Port version of Hortense’s indifference to John before + the event of the phosphates might well enough be true. It might even well + enough be true that she had taken him and his phosphates at Newport for + lack of anything better at hand, and because she was sick of disappointed + hopes. In this case, Charley’s subsequent appearance as something very + much better (if the phosphates were to fail) would perfectly explain the + various postponements of the wedding. + </p> + <p> + So I was able to answer my questions to myself thus: How much did Charley + know?—Just what he could see for himself, and what he had most + likely heard from Newport gossip. He could have heard of an old + engagement, made purely for money’s sake, and of recent delays created by + the lady; and he could see the gentleman—an impossible husband from + a Wall Street standpoint!—to whom Hortense was evidently tempering + her final refusal by indulgently taking an interest in helping along his + phosphate fortune. Charley would not refuse to lend her his aid in this + estimable benevolence; nor would it occur to Charley’s sensibilities how + such benevolence would be taken by John if John were not “taken” himself. + Yes, Charley was plainly fooled, and fooled the more readily because he + had the old version of the truth. How should he suspect there was a + revised version? How should he discover that passion had now changed + sides, that it was now John who allowed himself to be loved? The signs of + this did not occur before his eyes. Of course, Charley would not stay + fooled forever; the hours of that were numbered,—but their number + was quite beyond my guessing! + </p> + <p> + How much would Charley stand? He would stand a good deal, because the + measure of his toleration was the measure of his desire for Hortense; and + it was plain that he wanted her very much indeed. But how much would John + stand? How soon would his “fire-eating” traditions produce a “difficulty”? + Why had they not done this already? Well, the garden had in some way + helped me to frame a fairly reasonable answer for this also. Poor Hortense + had become as powerless to woo John to warmth as poor Venus had been with + Adonis; and passion, in changing sides, had advanced the boy’s knowledge. + He knew now the difference between the embraces of his lady when she had + merely wanted his phosphates, and these other caresses now that, she + wanted him. In his ceaseless search for some possible loophole of escape, + his eye could not have overlooked the chance that lay in Charley, and he + was far too canny to blast his forlorn hope. He had probably wondered what + had changed the nature of Hortense’s caresses, and the adventure of the + torn money could scarce have failed to suggest itself to the mind of a + youth who, little as he had trodden the ways of the world, evidently + possessed some lively instincts regarding the nature of women. To batter + Charley as he had battered Juno’s nephew, might result in winding the arms + of Hortense around his own neck more tightly than ever. + </p> + <p> + Why Hortense should keep Charley “on” any longer, was what I could least + fathom, but I trusted her to have excellent reasons for anything that she + did. “It’s sure to be quite simple, once you know it,” I told myself; and + the near future proved me to be right. + </p> + <p> + Thus I laid most of my enigmas to rest; there was but one which now and + then awakened still. Were Hortense a raw girl of eighteen, I could easily + grant that the “fire-eater” in John would be sure to move her. But + Hortense had travelled many miles away from the green forests of romance; + her present fields were carpeted, not with grass and flowers, but with + Oriental mats and rugs, and it was electric lights, not the moon and + stars, that shone upon her highly seasoned nights. No, torn money and all, + it was not appropriate in a woman of her experience; and so I still found + myself inquiring in the words of Beverly Rodgers, “But what can she want + him for?” + </p> + <p> + The next time that I met Mrs. Gregory St. Michael it was on my way to join + the party at the old church, which Mrs. Weguelin was going to show them. + The card-case was in her hand, and the sight of it prompted me to allude + to Hortense Rieppe. + </p> + <p> + “I find her beauty growing upon me?” I declared. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Gregory did not deny the beauty, although she spoke with reserve at + first. “It is to be said that she knows how to write a suitable note,” the + lady also admitted. + </p> + <p> + She didn’t tell me what the note was about, naturally; but I could imagine + with what joy in the exercise of her art Hortense had constructed that + communication which must have accompanied the prompt return of the + card-case. + </p> + <p> + Then Mrs. Gregory’s tongue became downright. “Since you’re able to see so + much of her, why don’t you tell her to marry that little steam-yacht + gambler? I’m sure he’s dying to, and he’s just the thing for her?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” I returned, “Love so seldom knows what’s just the thing for + marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Then your precocity theory falls,” declared Mrs. St. Michael. And as she + went away from me along the street, I watched her beautiful stately walk; + for who could help watching a sight so good? + </p> + <p> + Charley, then, was no secret to John’s people. Was John still a secret to + Charley? Could Hortense possibly have managed this? I hoped for a chance + to observe the two men with her during the visit of Mrs. Weguelin St. + Michael and her party to the church. + </p> + <p> + This party was already assembled when I arrived upon the spot appointed. + In the street, a few paces from the church, stood Bohm and Charley and + Kitty and Gazza, with Beverly Rodgers, who, as I came near, left them and + joined me. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’s somewhere off with her fire-eater,” responded Beverly to my + immediate inquiry for Hortense. “Do you think she was asked, old man?” + </p> + <p> + Probably not, I thought. “But she goes so well with the rest,” I + suggested. + </p> + <p> + Beverly gave his chuckle. “She goes where she likes. She’ll meet us here + when we’re finished, I’m pretty sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Why such certainty?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she has to attend to Charley, you know!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Weguelin, it appeared, had met the party here by the church, but had + now gone somewhere in the immediate neighborhood to find out why the gate + was not opened to admit us, and to hasten the unpunctual custodian of the + keys. I had not looked for precisely such a party as Mrs. Weguelin’s + invitation had gathered, nor could I imagine that she had fully understood + herself what she was gathering; and this I intimated to Beverly Rodgers, + saying:— + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose, my friend, that she suspected the feather of the birds + you flock with?” + </p> + <p> + Beverly took it lightly. “Hang it, old boy, of course everybody can’t be + as nice as I am!” But he took it less lightly before it was over. + </p> + <p> + We stood chatting apart, he and I, while Bohm and Charley and Kitty and + Gazza walked across the street to the window of a shop, where old + furniture was for sale at a high price; and it grew clearer to me what + Beverly had innocently brought upon Mrs. Weguelin, and how he had brought + it. The little quiet, particular lady had been pleased with his visit, and + pleased with him. His good manners, his good appearance, his good + English-trained voice, all these things must have been extremely to her + taste; and then—more important than they—did she not know + about his people? She had inquired, he told me, with interest about two of + his uncles, whom she had last seen in 1858. “She’s awfully the right + sort,” said Beverly. Yes, I saw well how that visit must have gone: the + gentle old lady reviving in Beverly’s presence, and for the sake of being + civil to him, some memories of her girlhood, some meetings with those + uncles, some dances with them; and generally shedding from her talk and + manner the charm of some sweet old melody—and Beverly, the facile, + the appreciative, sitting there with her at a correct, deferential angle + on his chair, admirably sympathetic and in good form, and playing the old + school. (He had no thought to deceive her; the old school was his by + right, and genuinely in his blood, he took to it like a duck to the + water.) How should Mrs. Weguelin divine that he also took to the nouveau + jeu to the tune of Bohm and Charley and Kitty and Gazza? And so, to show + him some attention, and because she couldn’t ask him to a meal, why, she + would take him over the old church, her colonial forefathers’; she would + tell him the little legends about them; he was precisely the young man to + appreciate such things—and she would be pleased if he would also + bring the friends with whom he was travelling. + </p> + <p> + I looked across the street at Bohm and Charley and Kitty and Gazza. They + were now staring about them in all their perfection of stare: small + Charley in a sleek slate-colored suit, as neat as any little barber; Bohm, + massive, portentous, his strong shoes and gloves the chief note in his + dress, and about his whole firm frame a heavy mechanical strength, a look + as of something that did something rapidly and accurately when set going—cut + or cracked or ground or smashed something better and faster than it had + ever been cut or cracked or ground or smashed before, and would take your + arms and legs off if you didn’t stand well back from it; it was only in + Bohm’s eye and lips that you saw he wasn’t made entirely of brass and + iron, that champagne and shoulders decolletes received a punctual share of + his valuable time. And there was Kitty, too, just the wife for Bohm, so + soon as she could divorce her husband, to whom she had united herself + before discovering that all she married him for, his old Knickerbocker + name, was no longer in the slightest degree necessary for social + acceptance; while she could feed people, her trough would be well + thronged. Kitty was neat, Kitty was trig, Kitty was what Beverly would + call “swagger “; her skilful tailor-made clothes sheathed her closely and + gave her the excellent appearance of a well-folded English umbrella; it + was in her hat that she had gone wrong—a beautiful hat in itself, + one which would have wholly become Hortense; but for poor Kitty it didn’t + do at all. Yes, she was a well folded English umbrella, only the umbrella + had for its handle the head of a bulldog or the leg of a ballet-dancer. + And these were the Replacers whom Beverly’s clear-sighted eyes saw + swarming round the temple of his civilization, pushing down the aisles, + climbing over the backs of the benches, walking over each other’s bodies, + and seizing those front seats which his family had sat in since New York + had been New York; and so the wise fellow very prudently took every step + that would insure the Replacers’ inviting him to occupy one of his own + chairs. I had almost forgotten little Gazza, the Italian nobleman, who + sold old furniture to new Americans. Gazza was not looking at the old + furniture of Kings Port, which must have filled his Vatican soul with + contempt; he was strolling back and forth in the street, with his head in + the air, humming, now loudly, now softly “La-la, la-la, E quando a la + predica in chiesa siederia, la-la-la-la;” and I thought to myself that, + were I the Pope, I should kick him into the Tiber. + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael came back with the keys and their + custodian, Bohm was listening to the slow, clear words of Charley, in + which he evidently found something that at length interested him—a + little. Bohm, it seemed, did not often speak himself: possibly once a + week. His way was to let other people speak to him when there were signs + in his face that he was hearing anything which they said, it was a high + compliment to them, and of course Charley could command Bohm’s ear; for + Charley, although he was as neat as any barber, and let Hortense walk on + him because he looked beyond that, and purposed to get her, was just as + potent in the financial world as Bohm, could bring a borrowing empire to + his own terms just as skillfully as could Bohm; was, in short, a man after + Bohm’s own—I had almost said heart: the expression is so obstinately + embedded in our language! Bohm, listening, and Charley, talking, had + neither of them noticed Mrs. Weguelin’s arrival; they stood ignoring her, + while she waited, casting a timid eye upon them. But Beverly, suddenly + perceiving this, and begging her pardon for them, brought the party + together, and we moved in among the old graves. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Gazza, bending to read the quaint words cut upon one of them, + as we stopped while the door at the rear of the church was being opened, + “French!” + </p> + <p> + “It was the mother-tongue of these colonists,” Mrs. Weguelin explained to + him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! like Canada!” cried Gazza. “But what a pretty bit is that!” And he + stood back to admire a little glimpse, across a street, between tiled + roofs and rusty balconies, of another church steeple. “Almost, one would + say, the Old World,” Gazza declared. + </p> + <p> + “Our world is not new,” said Mrs. Weguelin; and she passed into the + church. + </p> + <p> + Kings Port holds many sacred nooks, many corners, many vistas, that should + deeply stir the spirit and the heart of all Americans who know and love + their country. The passing traveller may gaze up at certain windows there, + and see History herself looking out at him, even as she looks out of the + windows of Independence Hall in Philadelphia. There are also other ancient + buildings in Kings Port, where History is shut up, as in a strong-box,—such + as that stubborn old octagon, the powder-magazine of Revolutionary times, + which is a chest holding proud memories of blood and war. And then there + are the three churches. Not strong-boxes, these, but shrines, where burn + the venerable lamps of faith. And of these three houses of God, that one + holds the most precious flame, the purest light, which treasures the holy + fire that came from France. The English colonists, who sat in the other + two congregations, came to Carolina’s soil to better their estate; but it + was for liberty of soul, to lift their ardent and exalted prayer to God as + their own conscience bade them, and not as any man dictated, that those + French colonists sought the New World. No Puritan splendor of independence + and indomitable courage outshines theirs. They preached a word as burning + as any that Plymouth or Salem ever heard. They were but a handful, yet so + fecund was their marvelous zeal that they became the spiritual leaven of + their whole community. They are less known than Plymouth and Salem, + because men of action, rather than men of letters, have sprung from the + loins of the South; but there they stand, a beautiful beacon, shining upon + the coasts of our early history. Into their church, then, into the shrine + where their small lamp still burns, their devout descendant, Mrs. Weguelin + St. Michael led our party, because in her eyes Kings Port could show + nothing more precious and significant. There had been nothing to warn her + that Bohm and Charley were Americans who neither knew nor loved their + country, but merely Americans who knew their country’s wealth and loved to + acquire every penny of it that they could. + </p> + <p> + And so, following the steps of our delicate and courteous guide, we + entered into the dimness of the little building; and Mrs. Weguelin’s + voice, lowered to suit the sanctity which the place had for her, began to + tell us very quietly and clearly the story of its early days. + </p> + <p> + I knew it, or something of it, from books; but from this little lady’s + lips it took on a charm and graciousness which made it fresh to me. I + listened attentively, until I felt, without at first seeing the cause, + that dulling of enjoyment, that interference with the receptive attention, + which comes at times to one during the performance of music when untimely + people come in or go out. Next, I knew that our group of listeners was + less compact; and then, as we moved from the first point in the church to + a new one, I saw that Bohm and Charley were dropping behind, and I + lingered, with the intention of bringing them closer. + </p> + <p> + “But there was nothing in it,” I heard Charley’s slow monologue continuing + behind me to the silent Bohm. “We could have bought the Parsons road at + that time. ‘Gentlemen,’ I said to them, ‘what is there for us in + tide-water at Kings Port? ‘” + </p> + <p> + It was not to be done, and I rejoined Mrs. Weguelin and those of the party + who were making some show of attention to her quiet little histories and + explanations; and Kitty’s was the next voice which I heard ring out— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you must never let it fall to pieces! It’s the cunningest little + fossil I’ve seen in the South.” + </p> + <p> + “So,” said Charley behind me, “we let the other crowd buy their strategic + point; and I guess they know they got a gold brick.” + </p> + <p> + I moved away from the financiers, I endeavored not to hear their words; + and in this much I was successful; but their inappropriate presence had + got, I suppose upon my nerves; at any rate, go where I would in the little + church, or attend as I might and did to what Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael + said about the tablets, and whatever traditions their inscriptions + suggested to her, that quiet, low, persistent banker’s voice of Charley’s + pervaded the building like a draft of cold air. Once, indeed, he addressed + Mrs. Weguelin a question. She was telling Beverly (who followed her + throughout, protectingly and charmingly, with his most devoted attention + and his best manner) the honorable deeds of certain older generations of a + family belonging to this congregation, some of whose tombs outside had + borne French inscriptions. + </p> + <p> + “My mother’s family,” said Mrs. Weguelin. + </p> + <p> + “And nowadays,” inquired Beverly, “what do they find instead of military + careers?” + </p> + <p> + “There are no more of us nowadays; they—they were killed in the + war.” + </p> + <p> + And immediately she smiled, and with her hand she made a light gesture, as + if to dismiss this subject from mutual embarrassment and pain. + </p> + <p> + “I might have known better,” murmured the understanding Beverly. + </p> + <p> + But Charley now had his question. “How many, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “How many?” Mrs. Weguelin did not quite understand him. + </p> + <p> + “Were killed?” explained Charley. + </p> + <p> + Again there was a little pause before Mrs. Weguelin answered, “My four + brothers met their deaths.” + </p> + <p> + Charley was interested. “And what was the percentage of fatality in their + regiments?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Mrs. Weguelin, “we did not think of it in that way.” And she + turned aside. + </p> + <p> + “Charley,” said Kitty, with some precipitancy, “do make Mr. Bohm look at + the church!” and she turned after Mrs. Weguelin. “It is such a gem!” + </p> + <p> + But I saw the little lady try to speak and fail, and then I noticed that + she was leaning against a window-sill. + </p> + <p> + Beverly Rodgers also noticed this, and he hastened to her. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she returned to his hasty question, “I am quite well. If you + are not tired of it, shall we go on?” + </p> + <p> + “It is such a gem!” repeated Kitty, throwing an angry glance at Charley + and Bohm. And so we went on. + </p> + <p> + Yes, Kitty did her best to cover it up; Kitty, as she would undoubtedly + have said herself, could see a few things. But nobody could cover it up, + though Beverly was now vigilant in his efforts to do so. Indeed, Replacers + cannot be covered up by human agency; they bulge, they loom, they stare, + they dominate the road of life, even as their automobiles drive horses and + pedestrians to the wall. Bohm, roused from his financial torpor by Kitty’s + sharp command, did actually turn his eyes upon the church, which he had + now been inside for some twenty minutes without noticing. Instinct and + long training had given his eye, when it really looked at anything, a + particular glance—the glance of the Replacer—which plainly + calculated: “Can this be made worth money to me?” and which died instantly + to a glaze of indifference on seeing that no money could be made. Bohm’s + eye, accordingly, waked and then glazed. Manners, courtesy, he did not + need, not yet; he had looked at them with his Replacer glance, and, seeing + no money in them, had gone on looking at railroads, and mines, and mills,—and + bare shoulders, and bottles. Should manners and courtesy come, some day, + to mean money to him, then he could have them, in his fashion, so that his + admirers and his apologists should alike declare of him, “A rough diamond, + but consider what he has made of himself!” + </p> + <p> + “After what, did you say?” This was the voice of Gazza, addressing Mrs. + Weguelin St. Michael. It must be said of Gazza that he, too, made a + certain presence of interest in the traditions of Kings Port. + </p> + <p> + “After the revocation of the Edict of Nantes,” replied Mrs. Weguelin. + </p> + <p> + “Built it in Savannah,” Charley was saying to Bohm, “or Norfolk. This is a + good place to bury people in, but not money. Now the phosphate proposition—” + </p> + <p> + Again I dragged my attention by force away from that quiet, relentless + monologue, and listened as well as I could to Mrs. Weguelin. There had + come to be among us all, I think—Beverly, Kitty, Gazza, and myself—a + joint impulse to shield her, to cluster about her, to follow her steps + from each little lecture that she finished to the new point where the next + lecture began; and we did it, performed our pilgrimage to the end; but + there was less and less nature in our performance. I knew (and it was like + a dream which I could not stop) that we pressed a little too close, that + our questions were a little too eager, that we overprinted our faces with + attention; knowing this did not help, nothing helped, and we went on to + the end, seeing ourselves doing it; and it must have been that Mrs. + Weguelin saw us likewise. But she was truly admirable in giving no sign, + she came out well ahead; the lectures were not hurried, one had no sense + of points being skipped to accommodate our unworthiness, it required a + previous familiarity with the church to know (as I did) that there was, + indeed, more and more skipping; yet the little lady played her part so + evenly and with never a falter of voice nor a change in the gentle + courtesy of her manner, that I do not think—save for that moment at + the window-sill—I could have been sure what she thought, or how much + she noticed. Her face was always so pale, it may well have been all + imagination with me that she seemed, when we emerged at last into the + light of the street, paler than usual; but I am almost certain that her + hand was trembling as she stood receiving the thanks of the party. These + thanks were cut a little short by the arrival of one of the automobiles, + and, at the same time, the appearance of Hortense strolling toward us with + John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + Charley had resumed to Bohm, “A tax of twenty-five cents on the ton is + nothing with deposits of this richness,” when his voice ceased; and + looking at him to see the cause, I perceived that his eye was on John, and + that his polished finger-nail was running meditatively along his thin + mustache. + </p> + <p> + Hortense took the matter—whatever the matter was—in hand. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t much time,” she said to Charles, who consulted his watch. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s coming to see me off?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s he going?” I asked Beverly. + </p> + <p> + “She’s sending him North,” Beverly answered, and then he spoke with his + very best simple manner to Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael. “May I not walk home + with you after all your kindness?” + </p> + <p> + She was going to say no, for she had had enough of this party; but she + looked at Beverly, and his face and his true solicitude won her; she said, + “Thank you, if you will.” And the two departed together down the shabby + street, the little veiled lady in black, and Beverly with his excellent + London clothes and his still more excellent look of respectful, sheltering + attention. + </p> + <p> + And now Bohm pronounced the only utterance that I heard fall from his lips + during his stay in Kings Port. He looked at the church he had come from, + he looked at the neighboring larger church whose columns stood out at the + angle of the street; he looked at the graveyard opposite that, then at the + stale, dusty shop of old furniture, and then up the shabby street, where + no life or movement was to be seen, except the distant forms of Beverly + and Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael. Then from a gold cigar-case, curved to fit + his breast pocket, he took a cigar and lighted it from a gold match-box. + Offering none of us a cigar, he placed the case again in his pocket; and + holding his lighted cigar a moment with two fingers in his strong glove, + he spoke:— + </p> + <p> + “This town’s worse than Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + Then he got into the automobile. They all followed to see Charley off, and + he addressed me. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be glad,” he said, “if you will make one of a little party on the + yacht next Sunday, when I come back. And you also,” he added to John. + </p> + <p> + Both John and I expressed our acceptance in suitable forms, and the + automobile took its way to the train. + </p> + <p> + “Your Kings Port streets,” I said, as we walked back toward Mrs. + Trevise’s, “are not very favorable for automobiles.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he returned briefly. I don’t remember that either of us found more + to say until we had reached my front door, when he asked, “Will the day + after to-morrow suit you for Udolpho?” + </p> + <p> + “Whenever you say,” I told him. + </p> + <p> + “Weather permitting, of course. But I hope that it will; for after that I + suppose my time will not be quite so free.” + </p> + <p> + After we had parted it struck me that this was the first reference to his + approaching marriage that John had ever made in my hearing since that day + long ago (it seemed long ago, at least) when he had come to the Exchange + to order the wedding-cake, and Eliza La Heu had fallen in love with him at + sight. That, in my opinion, looking back now with eyes at any rate + partially opened, was what Eliza had done. Had John returned the + compliment then, or since? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX: Udolpho + </h2> + <p> + It was to me continuously a matter of satisfaction and of interest to see + Hortense disturbed—whether for causes real or imaginary—about + the security of her title to her lover John, nor can I say that my + misinterpreted bunch of roses diminished this satisfaction. I should have + been glad to know if the accomplished young woman had further probed that + question and discovered the truth, but it seemed scarce likely that she + could do this without the help of one of three persons, Eliza and myself + who knew all, or John who knew nothing; for the up-country bride, and + whatever other people in Kings Port there were to whom the bride might + gayly recite the tale of my roses, were none of them likely to encounter + Miss Rieppe; their paths and hers would not meet until they met in church + at the wedding of Hortense and John. No, she could not have found out the + truth; for never in the world would she, at this eleventh hour, risk a + conversation with John upon a subject so full of well-packed explosives; + and so she must be simply keeping on both him and Eliza an eye as watchful + as lay in her power. As for Charley, what bait, what persuasion, what + duress she had been able to find that took him at an hour so critical from + her side to New York, I could not in the least conjecture. Had she said to + the little banker, Go, because I must think it over alone? It did not seem + strong enough. Or had she said, Go, and on your return you shall have my + answer? Not adequate either, I thought. Or had it been, If you don’t go, + it shall be “no,” to-day and forever? This last was better; but there was + no telling, nor did Beverly Rodgers, to whom I propounded all my theories, + have any notion of what was between Hortense and Charley. He only knew + that Charley was quite aware of the existence of John, but had always been + merely amused at the notion of him. + </p> + <p> + “So have you been merely amused,” I reminded him. + </p> + <p> + “Not since that look I saw her give him, old chap. I know she wants him, + only not why she wants him. And Charley, you know—well, of course, + poor Charley’s a banker, just a banker and no more; and a banker is merely + the ace in the same pack where the drummer is the two-spot. Our American + civilization should be called Drummer’s Delight—and there’s nothing + in your fire-eater to delight a drummer: he’s a gentleman, he’ll be only + so-so rich, and he’s away back out of the lime-light, while poor old + Charley’s a bounder, and worth forty millions anyhow, and right in the + centre of the glare. How should he see any danger in John?” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if he hasn’t begun to?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps. He and Hortense have been ‘talking business’; I know that. + Oh—and why do you think she said he must go to New York? To make a + better deal for the fire-eater’s phosphates than his fuddling old trustee + here was going to close with. Charley said that could be arranged by + telegram. But she made him go himself! She’s extraordinary. He’ll arrive + in town to-morrow, he’ll leave next day, he’ll reach here by the Southern + on Saturday night in time for our Sunday yacht picnic, and then something + has got to happen, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + Here was another key, unlocking a further piece of knowledge for me. I had + not been able to guess why Hortense should be keeping Charley “on”; but + how natural was this policy, when understood clearly! She still needed + Charley’s influence in the world of affairs. Charley’s final service was + to be the increasing of his successful rival’s fortune. I wondered what + Charley would do, when the full extent of his usefulness dawned upon him; + and with wonder renewed I thought of General Rieppe, and this daughter he + had managed to beget. Surely the mother of Hortense, whoever she may have + been, must have been a very richly endowed character! + </p> + <p> + “Something has most certainly got to happen and soon,” I said to Beverly + Rodgers. “Especially if my busy boarding-house bodies are right in saying + that the invitations for the wedding are to be out on Monday.” + </p> + <p> + Well, I had Friday, I had Udolpho; and there, while on that excursion, + when I should be alone with John Mayrant during many hours, and especially + the hours of deep, confidential night, I swore to myself on oath I would + say to the boy the last word, up to the verge of offense, that my wits + could devise. Apart from a certain dramatic excitement as of battle—battle + between Hortense and me—I truly wished to help him out of the + miserable mistake his wrong standard, his chivalry gone perverted, was + spurring him on to make; and I had a comic image of myself, summoning Miss + Josephine, summoning Miss Eliza, summoning Mrs. Gregory and Mrs. Weguelin, + and the whole company of aunts and cousins, and handing to them the + rescued John with the single but sufficient syllable: “There!” + </p> + <p> + He was in apparent spirits, was John, at that hour of our departure for + Udolpho; he pretended so well that I was for a while altogether deceived. + He had wished to call for me with the conveyance in which he should drive + us out into the lonely country through the sunny afternoon; but instead, I + chose to walk round to where he lived, and where I found him stuffing + beneath the seats of the vehicle the baskets and the parcels which + contained the provisions for our ample supper. + </p> + <p> + “I have never seen you drink hearty yet, and now I purpose to,” said John. + </p> + <p> + As the packing was finishing Miss Josephine St. Michael came by; and the + sight of the erect old lady reminded me that of all Kings Port figures + known to me and seen in the garden paying their visit of ceremony to + Hortense, she alone—she and Eliza La Heu—had been absent. + Eliza’s declining to share in that was well-nigh inevitable, but Miss + Josephine was another matter. Perhaps she had considered her sister’s + going there to be enough; at any rate, she had not been party to the + surrender, and this gave me whimsical satisfaction. Moreover, it had + evidently occasioned no ruffle in the affectionate relations between + herself and John. + </p> + <p> + “John,” said she, “as you drive by, do get me a plumber.” + </p> + <p> + “Much better get a burglar, Aunt Josephine. Cheaper in the end, and neater + work.” + </p> + <p> + It was thus, at the outset, that I came to believe John’s spirits were + high; and this illusion he successfully kept up until after we had left + the plumber and Kings Port several sordid miles behind us; the approach to + Kings Port this way lies through dirtiest Africa. John was loquacious; + John discoursed upon the Replacers; Mrs. Weguelin St. Michael had quite + evidently expressed to her own circle what she thought of them; and the + town in consequence, although it did not see them or their automobiles, + because it appeared they were gone some twenty miles inland upon an + excursion to a resort where was a large hotel, and a little variety in the + way of some tourists of the Replacer stripe,—the town kept them well + in its mind’s eye. The automobiles would have sufficed to bring them into + disrepute, but Kings Port had a better reason in their conduct in the + church; and John found many things to say to me, as we drove along, about + Bohm and Charley and Kitty. Gazza he forgot, although, as shall appear in + its place, Gazza was likely to live a long while in his memory. Beverly + Rodgers he, of course, recognized as being a gentleman—it was clear + that Beverly met with Kings Port’s approval—and, from his Newport + experiences, John was able to make out quite as well as if he had heard + Beverly explain it himself the whole wise philosophic system of joining + with the Replacers in order that you be not replaced yourself. + </p> + <p> + “In his shoes mightn’t I do the same?” he surmised. “I fear I’m not as + Spartan as my aunts—only pray don’t mention it to them!” + </p> + <p> + And then, because I had been answering him with single syllables, or with + nods, or not at all, he taxed me with my taciturnity; he even went so far + as to ask me what thoughts kept me so silent—which I did not tell + him. + </p> + <p> + “I am wondering,” I told him instead, “how much they steal every week.” + </p> + <p> + “Those financiers?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Bohm is president of an insurance company, and Charley’s a director, + and reorganizes railroads.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if other people share your pleasant opinion of them, how do they + get elected?” + </p> + <p> + “Other people share their pleasant spoils—senators, vestrymen—you + can’t be sure who you’re sitting next to at dinner any more. Come live + North. You’ll find the only safe way is never to know anybody worth more + than five millions—if you wish to keep the criminal classes off your + visiting list.” + </p> + <p> + This made him merry. “Put ‘em in jail, then!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the jail!” I returned. “It’s the great American joke. It reverses the + rule of our smart society. Only those who have no incomes are admitted.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you have laws and lawyers for?” + </p> + <p> + “To keep the rich out of jail. It’s called ‘professional etiquette.’” + </p> + <p> + “Your picture flatters!” + </p> + <p> + “You flatter me; it’s only a photograph. Come North and see.” + </p> + <p> + “One might think, from your account, the American had rather be bad than + good.” + </p> + <p> + “O dear, no! The American had much rather be good than bad!” + </p> + <p> + “Your admission amazes me!” + </p> + <p> + “But also the American had rather be rich than good. And he is having his + wish. And money’s golden hand is tightening on the throat of liberty while + the labor union stabs liberty in the back—for trusts and unions are + both trying to kill liberty. And the soul of Uncle Sam has turned into a + dollar-inside his great, big, strong, triumphant flesh; so that even his + new religion, his own special invention, his last offering to the creeds + of the world, his gatherer of converted hordes, his Christian Science, is + based upon physical benefit.” + </p> + <p> + John touched the horses. “You’re particularly cheerful to-day!” + </p> + <p> + “No. I merely summarize what I’m seeing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, a moral awakening will come,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Inevitably. To-morrow, perhaps. The flesh has had a good, long, + prosperous day, and the hour of the spirit must be near striking. And the + moral awakening will be followed by a moral slumber, since, in the + uncomprehended scheme of things, slumber seems necessary; and you needn’t + pull so long a face, Mr. Mayrant, because the slumber will be followed by + another moral awakening. The alcoholic society girl you don’t like will + very probably give birth to a water-drinking daughter—who in her + turn may produce a bibulous progeny: how often must I tell you that + nothing is final?” + </p> + <p> + John Mayrant gave the horses a somewhat vicious lash after these last + words of mine; and, as he made no retort to them, we journeyed some little + distance in silence through the mild, enchanting light of the sun. My + deliberate allusion to alcoholic girls had made plain what I had begun to + suspect. I could now discern that his cloak of gayety had fallen from him, + leaving bare the same harassed spirit, the same restless mood, which had + been his upon the last occasion when we had talked at length together upon + some of the present social and political phases of our republic—that + day of the New Bridge and the advent of Hortense. Only, upon that day, he + had by his manner in some subtle fashion conveyed to me a greater security + in my discretion than I felt him now to entertain. His many observations + about the Replacers, with always the significant and conspicuous omission + of Hortense, proved more and more, as I thought it over, that his state + was unsteady. Even now, he did not long endure silence between us; yet the + eagerness which he threw into our discussions did not, it seemed to me, so + much proceed from present interest in their subjects (though interest + there was at times) as from anxiety lest one particular subject, ever + present with him, should creep in unawares. So much I, at any rate, + concluded, and bided my time for the creeping in unawares, content + meanwhile to parry some of the reproaches which he now and again cast at + me with an earnestness real or feigned. + </p> + <p> + We had made now considerable progress, and were come to a space of sand + and cabins and intersecting railroad tracks, where freight cars and + locomotives stood, and negroes of all shapes, but of one lowering and + ragged appearance, lounged and stared. + </p> + <p> + “There used to be a murder here about once a day,” said John, “before the + dispensary system. Now, it is about once a week.” + </p> + <p> + “That law is of benefit, then?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “To those who drink the whiskey, possibly; certainly to those who sell + it!” And he condensed for me the long story of the state dispensary, which + in brief appeared to be that South Carolina had gone into the liquor + business. The profits were to pay for compulsory education; the liquor was + to be pure; society and sobriety were to be advanced: such had been the + threefold promise, of which the threefold fulfillment was—defeat of + the compulsory education bill, a political monopoly enriching favored + distillers, “and lately,” said John, “a thoroughly democratic whiskey for + the plain people. Pay ten cents for a bottle of X, if you’re curious. It + may not poison you—but the murders are coming up again.” + </p> + <p> + “What a delightful example of government ownership!” I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But John in Kings Port was not in the way of hearing that cure-all policy + discussed, and I therefore explained it to him. He did not seem to grasp + my explanation. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how it would change anything,” he remarked, “beyond switching + the stealing from one set of hands to another.” + </p> + <p> + I put on a face of concern. “What? You don’t believe in our patent + American short-cuts?” + </p> + <p> + “Short-cuts?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Short-cuts to universal happiness, universal honesty, + universal everything. For instance: Don’t make a boy study four years for + a college degree; just cut the time in half, and you’ve got a short-cut to + education. Write it down that man is equal. That settles it. You’ll notice + how equal he is at once. Write it down that the negro shall vote. You’ll + observe how instantly he is fit for the suffrage. Now they want it written + down that government shall take all the wicked corporations, because then + corruption will disappear from the face of the earth. You’ll find the + farmers presently having it written down that all hens must hatch their + eggs in a week, and next, a league of earnest women will advocate a + Constitutional amendment that men only shall bring forth children. Oh, we + Americans are very thorough!” And I laughed. + </p> + <p> + But John’s face was not gay. “Well,” he mused, “South Carolina took a + short-cut to pure liquor and sober citizens—and reached instead a + new den of thieves. Is the whole country sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Sick to the marrow, my friend; but young and vigorous still. A nation in + its long life has many illnesses before the one it dies of. But we shall + need some strong medicine if we do not get well soon.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s beyond any one! And we have several things the matter with us—as + bad a case, for example, of complacency as I’ve met in history. + Complacency’s a very dangerous disease, seldom got rid of without the + purge of a great calamity. And worse, where does our dishonesty begin, and + where end? The boy goes to college, and there in football it awaits him; + he graduates, and in the down-town office it smirks at him; he rises into + the confidence of his superiors, the town’s chief citizens, and finds + their gray hairs crowned with it,—the very men he has looked up to, + believed in, his ideals, his examples, the merchant prince, the railroad + magnate, the president of insurance companies—all dirty rascals! + Presently he faces worldly success or failure, and then, in the new ocean + of mind that has swallowed morals up, he sinks with his isolated honesty, + like a fool, or swims to respectability with his brother knaves. And into + this mess the immigrant sewage of Europe is steadily pouring. Such is our + continent to-day, with all its fair winds and tides and fields favorable + to us, and only our shallow, complacent, dishonest selves against us! But + don’t let these considerations make you gloomy; for (I must say it again) + nothing is final; and even if we rot before we ripen—which would be + a wholly novel phenomenon—we shall have made our contribution to + mankind in demonstrating by our collapse that the sow’s ear belongs with + the rest of the animal, and not in the voting booth or the legislature, + and that the doctrine of universal suffrage should have waited until men + were born honest and equal. That in itself would be a memorable service to + have rendered.” + </p> + <p> + We had come into the divine, sad stillness of the woods, where the warm + sunlight shone through the gray moss, lighting the curtained solitudes + away and away into the depths of the golden afternoon; and somewhere amid + the miles of sleeping wilderness sounded the hoarse honk of the + automobile. The Replacers were abroad, enjoying what they could in this + country where they did not belong, and which did not as yet belong to + them. Once again we heard their honk off to our left, from a farther + distance, and I am glad to say that we did not see them at all. + </p> + <p> + “If,” said John Mayrant, “what you have said is true, the nation had + better get on its knees and pray God to give it grace.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at the boy and saw that his countenance had grown very fine. “The + act,” I said, “would bring grace, wherever it comes from.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he assented. “If in the stars and awfulness of space there’s + nothing, that does not trouble me; for my greater self is inside me, safe. + And our country has a greater self somewhere. Think!” + </p> + <p> + “I do not have to think,” I replied, “when I know the nobleness we have + risen to at times.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” he pursued, “happen to believe it is not all only stars and + space; and that God, as much as any ship-builder, rejoices to watch every + tiniest boat meet and brave the storm.” + </p> + <p> + Out of his troubles he had brought such mood, sweetness instead of + bitterness; he was saying as plainly as if his actual words said it, + “Misfortune has come to me, and I am going to make the best of it.” His + nobleness, his moral elegance, compelled him to this, and I envied him, + not sure if I myself, thus placed, would acquit myself so well. And there + was in his sweetness a contagion that strangely reconciled me to the + troubled aspects of our national hour. I thought, “Invisible among our + eighty millions there is a quiet legion living untainted in the depths, + while the yellow rich, the prismatic scum and bubbles, boil on the + surface.” Yes, he had accidentally helped me, and I wished doubly that I + might help him. It was well enough he should feel he must not shirk his + duty, but how much better if he could be led to see that marrying where he + did not love was no duty of his. + </p> + <p> + I knew what I had to say to him, but lacked the beginning of it; and of + this beginning I was in search as we drove up among the live-oaks of + Udolpho to the little club-house, or hunting lodge, where a negro and his + wife received us, and took the baskets and set about preparing supper. My + beginning sat so heavily upon my attention that I took scant notice of + Udolpho as we walked about its adjacent grounds in the twilight before + supper, and John Mayrant pointed out to me its fine old trees, its placid + stream, and bade me admire the snug character of the hunting lodge, buried + away for bachelors’ delights deep in the heart of the pleasant forest. I + heard him indulging in memories and anecdotes of date sittings after long + hunts; but I was myself always on a hunt for my beginning, and none of his + words clearly reached my intelligence until I was aware of his reciting an + excellently pertinent couplet:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “If you would hold your father’s land, + You must wash your throat before your hand—” + </pre> + <p> + and found myself standing by the lodge table, upon which he had set two + glasses, containing, I soon ascertained, gin, vermouth, orange bitters, + and a cherry at the bottom—all which he had very skillfully mingled + himself in the happiest proportions. + </p> + <p> + “The poetry,” he remarked, “is hereditary in my family;” and setting down + the empty glasses we also washed our hands. A moon half-grown looked in at + the window from the filmy darkness, and John, catching sight of it, paused + with the wet soap in his hand and stared out at the dimly visible trees. + “Oh, the times, the times!” he murmured to himself, gazing long; and then + with a sort of start he returned to the present moment, and rinsed and + dried his hands. Presently we were sitting at the table, pledging each + other in well-cooled champagne; and it was not long after this that not + only the negro who waited on us was plainly reveling in John’s remarks, + but also the cook, with her bandannaed ebony head poked round the corner + of the kitchen door, was doing her utmost to lose no word of this + entertainment. For John, taking up the young and the old, the quick and + the dead, of masculine Kings Port, proceeded to narrate their private + exploits, until by coffee-time he had unrolled for me the richest tapestry + of gayeties that I remember, and I sat without breath, tearful and aching, + while the two negroes had retired far into the kitchen to muffle their + emotions. + </p> + <p> + “Tom, oh Tom! you Tom!” called John Mayrant; and after the man had come + from the kitchen: “You may put the punch-bowl and things on the table, and + clear away and go to bed. My Great-uncle Marston Chartain,” he continued + to me, “was of eccentric taste, and for the last twenty years of his life + never had anybody to dinner but the undertaker.” He paused at this point + to mix the punch, and then resumed: “But for all that, he appears to have + been a lively old gentleman to the end, and left us his version of a + saying which is considered by some people an improvement on the original, + ‘Cherchez la femme.’ Uncle Marston had it, ‘Hunt the other woman.’ Don’t + go too fast with that punch; it isn’t as gentle as it seems.” + </p> + <p> + But John and his Uncle Marston had between them given me my beginning, + and, as I sat sipping my punch, I ceased to hear the anecdotes which + followed. I sat sipping and smoking, and was presently aware of the + deepening silence of the night, and of John no longer at the table, but by + the window, looking out into the forest, and muttering once more, “Oh, the + times, the times!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s always a triangle,” I began. + </p> + <p> + He turned round from his window. “Triangle?” He looked at my glass of + punch, and then at me. “Go easy with the Bombo,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Bombo?” I echoed. “You call this Bombo? You don’t know how remarkable + that is, but that’s because you don’t know Aunt Carola, who is very + remarkable, too. Well, never mind her now. Point is, it’s always a + triangle.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t a doubt of it,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “There you’re right. And so was your uncle. He knew. Triangle.” Here I + found myself nodding portentously at John, and beating the table with my + finger very solemnly. + </p> + <p> + He stood by his window seeming to wait for me. And now everything in the + universe grew perfectly clear to me; I rose on mastering tides of thought, + and all problems lay disposed of at my feet, while delicious strength and + calm floated in my brain and being. Nothing was difficult for me. But I + was getting away from the triangle, and there was John waiting at the + window, and I mustn’t say too much, mustn’t say too much. My will reached + out and caught the triangle and brought it close, and I saw it all + perfectly clear again. + </p> + <p> + “What are they all,” I said, “the old romances? You take Paris and Helen + and Menelaus. What’s that? You take Launcelot and Arthur and Guinevere. + You take Paola and Francesca and her husband, what’s-his-name, or Tristram + and Iseult and Mark. Two men, one woman. Triangle and trouble. Other way + around you get Tannhauser and Venus and Elizabeth; two women, one man; + more triangle and more trouble. Yes.” And I nodded at him again. The tide + of my thought was pulling me hard away from this to other important + world-problems, but my will held, struggling, and I kept to it. + </p> + <p> + “You wait,” I told him. “I know what I mean. Trouble is, so hard to advise + him right.” + </p> + <p> + “Advise who right?” inquired John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + It helped me wonderfully. My will gripped my floating thoughts and held + them to it. “Friend of mine in trouble; though why he asks me when I’m not + married—I’d be married now, you know, but afraid of only one wife. + Man doesn’t love twice; loves thrice, four, six, lots of times; but they + say only one wife. Ought to be two, anyhow. Much easier for man to marry + then.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t it be rather immoral?” John asked. + </p> + <p> + “Morality is queer thing. Like kaleidoscope. New patterns all the time. + Abraham and wives—perfectly respectable. You take Pharaohs—or + kings of that sort—married own sisters. All right then. Perfectly + horrible now, of course. But you ask men about two wives. They’d say + something to be said for that idea. Only there are the women, you know. + They’d never. But I’m going to tell my friend he’s doing wrong. Going to + write him to-night. Where’s ink?” + </p> + <p> + “It won’t go to-night,” said John. “What are you going to tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “Going to tell him, since only one wife, wicked not to break his + engagement.” + </p> + <p> + John looked at me very hard, as he stood by the window, leaning on the + sill. But my will was getting all the while a stronger hold, and my + thoughts were less and less inclined to stray to other world-problems; + moreover, below the confusion that still a little reigned in them was the + primal cunning of the old Adam, the native man, quite untroubled and alert—it + saw John’s look at me and it prompted my course. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” I said. “He wants the truth from me. Where’s his letter? No harm + reading you without names.” And I fumbled in my pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Letter gone. Never mind. Facts are: friend’s asked girl. Girl’s said yes. + Now he thinks he’s bound by that.” + </p> + <p> + “He thinks right,” said John. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. You take Tannhauser. Engagement to Venus all a mistake. + Perfectly proper to break it. Much more than proper. Only honorable thing + he could do. I’m going to write it to him. Where’s ink?” And I got up. + </p> + <p> + John came from his window and sat down at the table. His glass was empty, + his cigar gone out, and he looked at me. But I looked round the room for + the ink, noting in my search the big fireplace, simple, wooden, + unornamented, but generous, and the plain plaster walls of the lodge, + whereon hung two or three old prints of gamebirds; and all the while I saw + John out of the corner of my eye, looking at me. + </p> + <p> + He spoke first. “Your friend has given his word to a lady; he must stand + by it like a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + “Lot of difference,” I returned, still looking round the room, “between + spirit and letter. If his heart has broken the word, his lips can’t make + him a gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + John brought his fist down on the table. “He had no business to get + engaged to her! He must take the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + That blow of the fist on the table brought my thoughts wholly clear and + fixed on the one subject; my will had no longer to struggle with them, + they worked of themselves in just the way that I wanted them to do. + </p> + <p> + “If he’s a gentleman, he must stand to his word,” John repeated, “unless + she releases him.” + </p> + <p> + I fumbled again for my letter. “That’s just about what he says himself,” I + rejoined, sitting down. “He thinks he ought to take the consequences.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” John Mayrant’s face was very stern as he sat in judgment on + himself. + </p> + <p> + “But why should she take the consequences?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “What consequences?” + </p> + <p> + “Being married to a man who doesn’t want her, all her life, until death + them do part. How’s that? Having the daily humiliation of his + indifference, and the world’s knowledge of his indifference. How’s that? + Perhaps having the further humiliation of knowing that his heart belongs + to another woman. How’s that? That’s not what a girl bargains for. His + standing to his word is not an act of honor, but a deception. And in + talking about ‘taking the consequences,’ he’s patting his personal + sacrifice on the back and forgetting all about her and the sacrifice he’s + putting her to. What’s the brief suffering of a broken engagement to that? + No: the true consequences that a man should shoulder for making such a + mistake is the poor opinion that society holds of him for placing a woman + in such a position; and to free her is the most honorable thing he can do. + Her dignity suffers less so than if she were a wife chained down to + perpetual disregard.” + </p> + <p> + John, after a silence, said: “That is a very curious view.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the view I shall give my friend,” I answered. “I shall tell him + that in keeping on he is not at bottom honestly thinking of the girl and + her welfare, but of himself and the public opinion he’s afraid of, if he + breaks his engagement. And I shall tell him that if I’m in church and they + come to the place where they ask if any man knows just cause or + impediment, I shall probably call out, ‘He does! His heart’s not in it. + This is not marriage that he’s committing. You’re pronouncing your + blessing upon a fraud.’” + </p> + <p> + John sat now a long time silent, holding his extinct cigar. The lamp was + almost burned dry; we had blown out the expiring candles some while since. + “That is a very curious view,” he repeated. “I should like to hear what + your friend says in answer.” + </p> + <p> + This finished our late sitting. We opened the door and went out for a + brief space into the night to get its pure breath into our lungs, and look + to the distant place where the moon had sailed. Then we went to bed, or + rather, I did; for the last thing that I remembered was John, standing by + the window of our bedroom still dressed, looking out into the forest. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX: What She Wanted Him For + </h2> + <p> + He was neither at the window, nor in his bed, nor anywhere else to be + seen, when I opened my eyes upon the world next morning; nor did any + answer come when I called his name. I raised myself and saw outside the + great branches of the wood, bathed from top to trunk in a sunshine that + was no early morning’s light; and upon this, the silence of the house + spoke plainly to me not of man still sleeping, but of man long risen and + gone about his business. I stepped barefoot across the wooden floor to + where lay my watch, but it marked an unearthly hour, for I had neglected + to wind it at the end of our long and convivial evening—of which my + head was now giving me some news. And then I saw a note addressed to me + from John Mayrant. + </p> + <p> + “You are a good sleeper,” it began, “but my conscience is clear as to the + Bombo, called by some Kill-devil, about which I hope you will remember + that I warned you.” + </p> + <p> + He hoped I should remember! Of course I remembered everything; why did he + say that? An apology for his leaving me followed; he had been obliged to + take the early train because of the Custom House, where he was serving his + final days; they would give me breakfast when ever I should be ready for + it, and I was to make free of the place; I had better visit the old church + (they had orders about the keys) and drive myself into Kings Port after + lunch; the horses would know the way, if I did not. It was the boy’s + closing sentence which fixed my attention wholly, took it away from + Kill-devil Bombo and my Aunt Carola’s commission, for the execution of + which I now held the clue, and sent me puzzling for the right + interpretation of his words:— + </p> + <p> + “I believe that you will help your friend by that advice which startled me + last night, but which I now begin to see more in than I did. Only between + alternate injuries, he may find it harder to choose which is the least he + can inflict, than you, who look on, find it. For in following your + argument, he benefits himself so plainly that the benefit to the other + person is very likely obscured to him. But, if you wish to, tell him a + Southern gentleman would feel he ought to be shot either way. That’s the + honorable price for changing your mind in such a case.” + </p> + <p> + No interpretation of this came to me. I planned and carried out my day + according to his suggestion; a slow dressing with much cold water, a slow + breakfast with much good hot coffee, a slow wandering beneath the dreamy + branches of Udolpho,—this course cleared my head of the Bombo, and + brought back to me our whole evening, and every word I had said to John, + except that I had lost the solution which, last night, the triangle had + held for me. At that moment, the triangle, and my whole dealing with the + subject of monogamy, had seemed to contain the simplicity of genius; but + it had all gone now, and I couldn’t get it back; only, what I had + contrived to say to John about his own predicament had been certainly well + said; I would say that over again to-day. It was the boy and the meaning + of his words which escaped me still, baffled me, and formed the whole + subject of my attention, even when I was inside the Tern Creek church; so + that I retain nothing of that, save a general quaintness, a general + loneliness, a little deserted, forgotten token of human doings long since + done, standing on its little acre of wilderness amid that solitude which + suggests the departed presence of man, and which is so much more potent in + the flavor of its desolation than the virgin wilderness whose solitude is + still waiting for man to come. + </p> + <p> + It made no matter whether John had believed in the friend to whom I + intended writing advice, or had seen through and accepted in good part my + manoeuvre; he had considered my words, that was the point; and he had not + slept in his bed, but on it, if sleep had come to him at all; this I found + out while dressing. Several times I read his note over. “Between alternate + injuries he may find it harder to choose.” This was not an answer to me, + but an explanation of his own perplexity. At times it sounded almost like + an appeal, as if he were saying, “Do not blame me for not being + convinced;” and if it was such appeal, why, then, taken with his resolve + to do right at any cost, and his night of inward contention, it was + poignant. “I believe that you will help your friend.” Those words sounded + better. But—“tell him a Southern gentleman ought to be shot either + way.” What was the meaning of this? A chill import rose from it into my + thoughts, but that I dismissed. To die on account of Hortense! Such a + thing was not to be conceived. And yet, given a high-strung nature, not + only trapped by its own standards, but also wrought upon during many days + by increasing exasperation and unhappiness while helpless in the trap, and + with no other outlook but the trap: the chill import returned to me more + than once, and was reasoned away, as, with no attention to my + surroundings, I took a pair of oars, and got into a boat belonging to the + lodge, and rowed myself slowly among the sluggish windings of Tern Creek. + </p> + <p> + Whence come those thoughts that we ourselves feel shame at? It shamed me + now, as I pulled my boat along, that I should have thoughts of John which + needed banishing. What tale would this be to remember of a boy’s life, + that he gave it to buy freedom from a pledge which need never have been + binding? What pearl was this to cast before the sophisticated Hortense? + Such act would be robbed of its sadness by its absurdity. Yet, surely, the + bitterest tragedies are those of which the central anguish is lost amid + the dust of surrounding paltriness. If such a thing should happen here, no + one but myself would have seen the lonely figure of John Mayrant, standing + by the window and looking out into the dark quiet of the wood; his name + would be passed down for a little while as the name of a fool, and then he + would be forgotten. “I believe that you will help your friend.” Yes; he + had certainly written that, and it now came to me that I might have said + to him one thing more: Had he given Hortense the chance to know what his + feelings to her had become? But he would merely have answered that here it + was the duty of a gentleman to lie. Or, had he possibly, at Newport, ever + become her lover too much for any escaping now? Had his dead passion once + put his honor in a pawn which only marriage could redeem? This might fit + all that had come, so far; and still, with such a two as they, I should + forever hold the boy the woman’s victim. But this did not fit what came + after. Perhaps it was the late sitting of the night before, and the hushed + and strange solitude of my surroundings now, that had laid my mind open to + all these thoughts which my reason, in dealing with, answered continually, + one by one, yet which returned, requiring to be answered again; for there + are times when our uncomfortable eyes see through the appearances we have + arranged for daily life, into the actualities which lie forever behind + them. + </p> + <p> + Going about thus in my boat, I rowed sleepiness into myself, and pushed + into a nook where shade from some thick growth hid the boat and me from + the sun; and there, almost enmeshed in the deep lattice of green, I placed + my coat beneath my head, and prone in the boat’s bottom I drifted into + slumber. Once or twice my oblivion was pierced by the roaming honk of the + automobile; but with no more than the half-melted consciousness that the + Replacers were somewhere in the wood, oblivion closed over me again; and + when it altogether left me, it was because of voices near me on the water, + or on the bank. Their calls and laughter pushed themselves into my + drowsiness, and soon after I grew aware that the Replacers were come here + to see what was to be seen at Udolpho—the club, the old church, a + country place with a fine avenue—and that it was the church they now + couldn’t get into, because my visit had disturbed the usual whereabouts of + the key, of which Gazza was now going in search. I could have told him + where to find it, but it pleased me not to disturb myself for this, as I + listened to him assuring Kitty that it was probably in the cabin beyond + the bridge, but not to be alarmed if he did not immediately return with + it. Kitty, not without audible mirth, assured him that they should not be + alarmed at all, to which the voice of Hortense supplemented, “Not at all.” + They were evidently in a boat, which Hortense herself was rowing, and + which she seemed to bring to the bank, where I gathered that Kitty got out + and sat while Hortense remained in the boat. There was the little talk and + movement which goes with borrowing of a cigarette, a little exclamation + about not falling out, accompanied by the rattle of a displaced oar, and + then stillness, and the smell of tobacco smoke. + </p> + <p> + Presently Kitty spoke. “Charley will be back to-night.” + </p> + <p> + To this I heard no reply. + </p> + <p> + “What did his telegram say?” Kitty inquired, after another silence. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right.” This was Hortense. Her slow, rich murmur was as + deliberate as always. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bohm knew it would be,” said Kitty. “He said it wouldn’t take five + minutes’ talk from Charley to get a contract worth double what they were + going to accept.” + </p> + <p> + After this, nothing came to me for several minutes, save the odor of the + cigarettes. + </p> + <p> + Of course there was now but one proper course for me, namely, to utter a + discreet cough, and thus warn them that some one was within earshot. But I + didn’t! I couldn’t! Strength failed, curiosity won, my baser nature + triumphed here, and I deliberately remained lying quiet and hidden. It was + the act of no gentleman, you will say. Well, it was; and I must simply + confess to it, hoping that I am not the only gentleman in the world who + has, on occasion, fallen beneath himself. + </p> + <p> + “Hortense Rieppe,” began Kitty, “what do you intend to say to my brother + after what he has done about those phosphates?” + </p> + <p> + “He is always so kind,” murmured Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know what it means.” + </p> + <p> + “Means?” + </p> + <p> + “If you persist in this folly, you’ll drop out.” + </p> + <p> + Hortense chose another line of speculation. “I wonder why your brother is + so sure of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Charley is a set man. And I’ve never seen him so set on anything as on + you, Hortense Rieppe.” + </p> + <p> + “He is always so kind,” murmured Hortense again. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a man you’ll always know just where to find,” declared Kitty. + “Charley is safe. He’ll never take you by surprise, never fly out, never + do what other people don’t do, never make any one stare at him by the way + he looks, or the way he acts, or anything he says, or—or—why, + how you can hesitate between those two men after that ridiculous, + childish, conspicuous, unusual scene on the bridge—” + </p> + <p> + “Unusual. Yes,” said Hortense. + </p> + <p> + Kitty’s eloquence and voice mounted together. “I should think it was + unusual! Tearing people’s money up, and making a rude, awkward fuss that + everybody had to smooth over as hard as they could! Why, even Mr. Rodgers + says that sort of thing isn’t done, and you’re always saying he knows.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Hortense. “It isn’t done.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ve never seen anything approaching such behavior in our set. And + he was ready to go further. Nobody knows where it might have gone to, if + Charley’s perfect coolness hadn’t rebuked him and brought him to his + senses. There’s where it is, that’s what I mean, Hortense, by saying you + could always feel safe with Charley.” + </p> + <p> + Hortense put in a languid word. “I think I should always feel safe with + Mr. Mayrant.” + </p> + <p> + But Kitty was a simple soul. “Indeed you couldn’t, Hortense! I assure you + that you’re mistaken. There’s where you get so wrong about men sometimes. + I have been studying that boy for your sake ever since we got here, and I + know him through and through. And I tell you, you cannot count upon him. + He has not been used to our ways, and I see no promise of his getting used + to them. He will stay capable of outbreaks like that horrid one on the + bridge. Wherever you take him, wherever you put him, no matter how much + you show him of us, and the way we don’t allow conspicuous things like + that to occur, believe me, Hortense, he’ll never learn, he’ll never smooth + down. You may brush his hair flat and keep him appearing like other people + for a while, but a time will come, something will happen, and that boy’ll + be conspicuous. Charley would never be conspicuous.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” assented Hortense. + </p> + <p> + Kitty urged her point. “Why, I never saw or beard of anything like that on + the bridge—that is, among—among—us!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” assented Hortense, again, and her voice dropped lower with each + statement. “One always sees the same thing. Always hears the same thing. + Always the same thing.” These last almost inaudible words sank away into + the silent pool of Hortense’s meditation. + </p> + <p> + “Have another cigarette,” said Kitty. “You’ve let yours fall into the + water.” + </p> + <p> + I heard them moving a little, and then they must have resumed their seats. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll drop out of it,” Kitty now pursued. + </p> + <p> + “Into what shall I drop?” + </p> + <p> + “Just being asked to the big things everybody goes to and nobody counts. + For even with the way Charley has arranged about the phosphates, it will + not be enough to keep you in our swim—just by itself. He’ll weigh + more than his money, because he’ll stay different—too different.” + </p> + <p> + “He was not so different last summer.” + </p> + <p> + “Because he was not there long enough, my dear. He learned bridge quickly, + and of course he had seen champagne before, and nobody had time to notice + him. But he’ll be married now and they will notice him, and they won’t + want him. To think of your dropping out!” Kitty became very earnest. “To + think of not seeing you among us! You’ll be in none of the small things; + you’ll never be asked to stay at the smart houses—why, not even your + name will be in the paper! Not a foreigner you entertain, not a dinner you + give, not a thing you wear, will ever be described next morning. And + Charley’s so set on you, and you’re so just exactly made for each other, + and it would all be so splendid, and cosey, and jolly! And to throw all + this away for that crude boy!” Kitty’s disdain was high at the thought of + John. + </p> + <p> + Hortense took a little time over it “Once,” she then stated, “he told me + he could drown in my hair as joyfully as the Duke of Clarence did in his + butt of Malmsey wine!” + </p> + <p> + Kitty gave a little scream. “Did you let him?” + </p> + <p> + “One has to guard one’s value at times.” + </p> + <p> + Kitty’s disdain for John increased. “How crude!” + </p> + <p> + Hortense did not make any answer. + </p> + <p> + “How crude!” Kitty, after some silence, repeated. She seemed to have found + the right word. + </p> + <p> + Steps sounded upon the bridge, and the voice of Gazza cried out that the + stupid key was at the imbecile club-house, whither he was now going for + it, and not to be alarmed. Their voices answered reassuringly, and Gazza + was heard growing distant, singing some little song. + </p> + <p> + Kitty was apparently unable to get away from John’s crudity. “He actually + said that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Where was it? Tell me about it, Hortense.” + </p> + <p> + “We were walking in the country on that occasion.” + </p> + <p> + Kitty still lingered with it. “Did he look—I’ve never had any man—I + wonder if—how did you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Not disagreeably.” And Hortense permitted herself to laugh musically. + </p> + <p> + Kitty’s voice at once returned to the censorious tone. “Well, I call such + language as that very—very—” + </p> + <p> + Hortense helped her. “Operatic?” + </p> + <p> + “He could never be taught in those ways either,” declared Kitty. “You + would find his ardor always untrained—provincial.” + </p> + <p> + Once more Hortense abstained from making any answer. + </p> + <p> + Kitty grew superior. “Well, if that’s to your taste, Hortense Rieppe!” + </p> + <p> + “It was none of it like Charley,” murmured Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “I should think not! Charley’s not crude. What do you see in that man?” + </p> + <p> + “I like the way his hair curls above his ears.” + </p> + <p> + For this Kitty found nothing but an impatient exclamation. + </p> + <p> + And now the voice of Hortense sank still deeper in dreaminess,—down + to where the truth lay; and from those depths came the truth, flashing + upward through the drowsy words she spoke: “I think I want him for his + innocence.” + </p> + <p> + What light these words may have brought to Kitty, I had no chance to + learn; for the voice of Gazza returning with the key put an end to this + conversation. But I doubted if Kitty had it in her to fathom the nature of + Hortense. Kitty was like a trim little clock that could tick tidily on an + ornate shelf; she could go, she could keep up with time, with the rapid + epoch to which she belonged, but she didn’t really have many works. I + think she would have scoffed at that last languorous speech as a piece of + Hortense’s nonsense, and that is why Hortense uttered it aloud: she was + safe from being understood. But in my ears it sounded the note of + revelation, the simple central secret of Hortense’s fire, a flame fed + overmuch with experience, with sophistication, grown cold under the + ministrations of adroitness, and lighted now by the “crudity” of John’s + love-making. And when, after an interval, I had rowed my boat back, and + got into the carriage, and started on my long drive from Udolpho to Kings + Port, I found that there was almost nothing about all this which I did not + know now. Hortense, like most riddles when you are told the answer, was + clear:— + </p> + <p> + “I think I want him for his innocence.” + </p> + <p> + Yes; she was tired of love-making whose down had been rubbed off; she + hungered for love-making with the down still on, even if she must pay for + it with marriage. Who shall say if her enlightened and modern eye could + not look beyond such marriage (when it should grow monotonous) to divorce? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI: Hortense’s Cigarette Goes Out + </h2> + <p> + John was the riddle that I could not read. Among my last actions of this + day was one that had been almost my earliest, and bedtime found me staring + at his letter, as I stood, half undressed, by my table. The calm moon + brought back Udolpho and what had been said there, as it now shone down + upon the garden where Hortense had danced. I stared at John’s letter as if + its words were new to me, instead of being words that I could have + fluently repeated from beginning to end without an error; it was as if, by + virtue of mere gazing at the document, I hoped to wring more meaning from + it, to divine what had been in the mind which had composed it; but instead + of this, I seemed to get less from it, instead of more. Had the boy’s + purpose been to mystify me, he could scarce have done better. I think that + he had no such intention, for it would have been wholly unlike him; but I + saw no sign in it that I had really helped him, had really shaken his old + quixotic resolve, nor did I see any of his having found a new way of his + own out of the trap. I could not believe that the dark road of escape had + taken any lodgement in his thought, but had only passed over it, like a + cloud with a heavy shadow. But these are surmises at the best: if John had + formed any plan, I can never know it, and Juno’s remarks at breakfast on + Sunday morning sounded strange, like something a thousand miles away. For + she spoke of the wedding, and of the fact that it would certainly be a + small one. She went over the names of the people who would have to be + invited, and doubted if she were one of these. But if she should be, then + she would go—for the sake of Miss Josephine St. Michael, she + declared. In short, it was perfectly plain that Juno was much afraid of + being left out, and that wild horses could not drag her away from it, if + an invitation came to her. But, as I say, this side of the wedding seemed + to have nothing to do with it, when I thought of all that lay beneath; my + one interest to-day was to see John Mayrant, to get from him, if not by + some word, then by some look or intonation, a knowledge of what he meant + to do. Therefore, disappointment and some anxiety met me when I stepped + from the Hermana’s gangway upon her deck, and Charley asked me if he was + coming. But the launch, sent back to wait, finally brought John, + apologizing for his lateness. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, I was pleased to find among the otherwise complete party + General Rieppe. What I had seen of him from a distance held promise, and + the hero’s nearer self fulfilled it. We fell to each other’s lot for the + most natural of reasons: nobody else desired the company of either of us. + Charley was making himself the devoted servant of Hortense, while Kitty + drew Beverly, Bohm, and Gazza in her sprightly wake. To her, indeed, I + made a few compliments during the first few minutes after my coming + aboard, while every sort of drink and cigar was being circulated among us + by the cabin boy. Kitty’s costume was the most markedly maritime thing + that I have ever beheld in any waters, and her white shoes looked (I must + confess) supremely well on her pretty little feet. I am no advocate of + sumptuary laws; but there should be one prohibiting big-footed women from + wearing white shoes. Did these women know what a spatulated effect their + feet so shod produce, no law would be needed. Yes, Kitty was + superlatively, stridently maritime; you could have known from a great + distance that she belonged to the very latest steam yacht class, and that + she was perfectly ignorant of the whole subject. On her left arm, for + instance, was worked a red propeller with one blade down, and two + chevrons. It was the rating mark for a chief engineer, but this, had she + known it, would not have disturbed her. + </p> + <p> + “I chose it,” she told me in reply to my admiration of it, “because it’s + so pretty. Oh, won’t we enjoy ourselves while those stupid old blue-bloods + in Kings Port are going to church!” And with this she gave a skip, and + ordered the cabin boy to bring her a Remsen cooler. Beverly Rodgers called + for dwarf’s blood, and I chose a horse’s neck, and soon found myself in + the society of the General. + </p> + <p> + He was sipping whiskey and plain water. “I am a rough soldiers sir,” he + explained to me, “and I keep to the simple beverage of the camp. Had we + not ‘rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not + of’?” And he waved a stately hand at my horse’s neck. “You are acquainted + with the works of Shakespeare?” + </p> + <p> + I replied that I had a moderate knowledge of them, and assured him that a + horse’s neck was very simple. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless, sir; but a veteran is ever old-fashioned.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa,” said Hortense, “don’t let the sun shine upon your head.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, daughter mine.” They said no more; but I presently felt that + for some reason she watched him. + </p> + <p> + He moved farther beneath the awning, and I followed him. “Are you a + father, sir? No? Then you cannot appreciate what it is to confide such a + jewel as yon girl to another’s keeping.” He summoned the cabin boy, who + brought him some more of the simple beverage of the camp, and I, feeling + myself scarce at liberty to speak on matters so near to him and so far + from me as his daughter’s marriage, called his attention to the beautiful + aspect of Kings Port, spread out before us in a long white line against + the blue water. + </p> + <p> + The General immediately seized his opportunity. “‘Sweet Auburn, loveliest + village of the plain!’ You are acquainted with the works of Goldsmith, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + I professed some knowledge of this author also, and the General’s talk + flowed ornately onward. Though I had little to say to him about his + daughter’s marriage, he had much to say to me. Miss Josephine St. Michael + would have been gratified to hear that her family was considered suitable + for Hortense to contract an alliance with. “My girl is not stepping down, + sir,” the father assured me; and he commended the St. Michaels and the + whole connection. He next alluded tragically but vaguely to misfortunes + which had totally deprived him of income. I could not precisely fix what + his inheritance had been; sometimes he spoke of cotton, but next it would + be rice, and he touched upon sugar more than once; but, whatever it was, + it had been vast and was gone. He told me that I could not imagine the + feelings of a father who possessed a jewel and no dowry to give her. “A + queen’s estate should have been hers,” he said. “But what! ‘Who steals my + purse steals trash.’” And he sat up, nobly braced by the philosophic + thought. But he soon was shaking his head over his enfeebled health. Was I + aware that he had been the cause of postponing the young people’s joy + twice? Twice had the doctors forbidden him to risk the emotions that would + attend his giving his jewel away. He dwelt upon his shattered system to + me, and, indeed, it required some dwelling on, for he was the picture of + admirable preservation. “But I know what it is myself,” he declared, “to + be a lover and have bliss delayed. They shall be united now. A soldier + must face all arrows. What!” + </p> + <p> + I had hoped he might quote something here, but was disappointed. His + conversation would soon cease to interest me, should I lose the excitement + of watching for the next classic; and my eye wandered from the General to + the water, where, happily, I saw John Mayrant coming in the launch. I + briskly called the General’s attention to him, and was delighted with the + unexpected result. + </p> + <p> + “‘Oh, young Lochinvar has come out of the West,’” said the General, + lifting his glass. + </p> + <p> + I touched it ceremoniously with mine. “The day will be hot,” I said; “‘The + boy stood on the burning deck.’” + </p> + <p> + On this I made my escape from him, and, leaving him to his whiskey and his + contemplating, I became aware that the eyes of the rest of the party were + eager to watch the greeting between Hortense and John. But there was + nothing to see. Hortense waited until her lover had made his apologies to + Charley for being late, and, from the way they met, she might have been no + more to him than Kitty was. Whatever might be thought, whatever might be + known, by these onlookers, Hortense set the pace of how the open secret + was to be taken. She made it, for all of us, as smooth and smiling as the + waters of Kings Port were this fine day. How much did they each know? I + asked myself how much they had shared in common. To these Replacers Kings + Port had opened no doors; they and their automobile had skirted around the + outside of all things. And if Charley knew about the wedding, he also knew + that it had been already twice postponed. He, too, could have said, as + Miss Eliza had once said to me, “The cake is not baked yet.” The General’s + talk to me (I felt as I took in how his health had been the centred point) + was probably the result of previous arrangements with Hortense herself; + and she quite as certainly inspired whatever she allowed him to say to + Charley. + </p> + <p> + As for Kitty, she knew that her brother was “set”; she always came back to + that. + </p> + <p> + If Hortense found this Sunday morning a passage of particularly delicate + steering, she showed it in no way, unless by that heightened radiance and + triumph of beauty which I had seen in her before. No; the splendor of the + day, the luxuries of the Hermana, the conviviality of the Replacers—all + melted the occasion down to an ease and enjoyment in which even John + Mayrant, with his grave face, was not perceptible, unless, like myself, + one watched him. + </p> + <p> + It was my full expectation that we should now get under way and proceed + among the various historic sights of Kings Port harbor, but of this I saw + no signs anywhere on board the Hermana. Abeam of the foremast her boat + booms remained rigged out on port and starboard, her boats riding to + painters, while her crew wore a look as generally lounging as that of her + passengers. Beverly Rodgers told me the reason: we had no pilot; the negro + Waterman engaged for this excursion in the upper waters had failed of + appearance, and when Charley was for looking up another, Kitty, Bohm, and + Gazza had dissuaded him. + </p> + <p> + “Kitty,” said Beverly, “told me she didn’t care about the musty old forts + and things, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + I looked at Kitty, and heard her tongue ticking away, like the little + clock she was; she had her Bohm, she had her nautical costume and her + Remsen cooler. These, with the lunch that would come in time, were enough + for her. + </p> + <p> + “But it was such a good chance!” I exclaimed in disappointment + </p> + <p> + “Chance for what, old man?” + </p> + <p> + “To see everything—the forts, the islands—and it’s beautiful, + you know, all the way to the navy yard.” + </p> + <p> + Beverly followed my glance to where the gay company was sitting among the + cracked ice, and bottles, and cigar boxes, chattering volubly, with its + back to the scenery. He gave his laisser-faire chuckle, and laid a hand on + my shoulder. “Don’t worry ‘em with forts and islands, old boy! They know + what they want. No living breed on earth knows better what it wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they don’t get it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, don’t they?” + </p> + <p> + “The cold fear of ennui gnaws at their vitals this minute.” + </p> + <p> + Shrill laughter from Kitty and Gazza served to refute my theory. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, very few know what’s the matter with them,” I added. “You + seldom spot an organic disease at the start.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm,” said Beverly, lengthily. “You put a pin through some of ‘em. + Hortense hasn’t got the disease, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, she spotted it! She’s taking treatment. It’s likely to help her—for + a time.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me. “You know something.” + </p> + <p> + I nodded. He looked at Hortense, who was now seated among the noisy group + with quiet John beside her. She was talking to Bohm, she had no air of any + special relation to John, but there was a lustre about her that spoke well + for the treatment. + </p> + <p> + “Then it’s coming off?” said Beverly. + </p> + <p> + “She has been too much for him,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + Beverly misunderstood. “He doesn’t look it.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “But the fool can cut loose!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you and I have gone over all that! I’ve even gone over it with him.” + </p> + <p> + Beverly looked at Hortense again. “And her fire-eater’s fortune is about + double what it would have been. I don’t see how she’s going to square + herself with Charley.” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll wait till that’s necessary. It isn’t necessary to-day.” + </p> + <p> + We had to drop our subject here, for the owner of the Hermana approached + us with the amiable purpose, I found, of making himself civil for a while + to me. + </p> + <p> + “I think you would have been interested to see the navy yard,” I said to + him. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen it,” Charley replied, in his slightly foreign, careful voice. + “It is not a navy yard. It is small politics and a big swamp. I was not + interested.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” I cried. “But surely it’s going to be very fine!” + </p> + <p> + “Another gold brick sold to Uncle Sam.” Charley’s words seemed always to + drop out like little accurately measured coins from some minting machine. + “They should not have changed from the old place if they wanted a harbor + that could be used in war-time. Here they must always keep at least one + dredge going out at the jetties. So the enemy blows up your dredge and you + are bottled in, or bottled out. It is very simple for the enemy. And, for + Kings Port, navy yards do not galvanize dead trade. It was a gold brick. + You have not been on the Hermana before?” + </p> + <p> + He knew that I had not, but he wishes to show her to me; and I soon noted + a difference as radical as it was diverting between this + banker-yachtsman’s speech when he talked of affairs on land and when he + attempted to deal with nautical matters. The clear, dispassionate finality + of his tone when phosphates, or railroads, or navy yards, or imperial + loans were concerned, left him, and changed to something very like a + recitation of trigonometry well memorized but not at all mastered; he + could do that particular sum, but you mustn’t stop him; and I concluded + that I would rather have Charley for my captain during a panic in Wall + Street than in a hurricane at sea. He, too, wore highly pronounced sea + clothes of the ornamental kind; and though they fitted him physically, + they hung baggily upon his unmarine spirit; giving him the air, as it + were, of a broiled quail served on oyster shells. Beverly Rodgers, the + consummate Beverly, was the only man of us whose clothes seemed to belong + to him; he looked as if he could sail a boat. + </p> + <p> + While the cabin boy continued to rush among the guests with siphons, ice, + and fresh refreshments, Charley became the Hermana’s guidebook for me; and + our interview gave me, I may say, entertainment unalloyed, although there + lay all the while, beneath the entertainment, my sadness and concern about + John. Charley was owner of the Hermana, there was no doubt of that; she + had cost him (it was not long before he told me) fifty thousand dollars, + and to run her it cost him a thousand a month. Yes, he was her owner, but + there it stopped, no matter with how solemn a face he inspected each part + of her, or spoke of her details; he was as much a passenger on her as + myself; and this was as plain on the equally solemn faces of his crew, + from the sailing-master down through the two quartermasters to the five + deck-hands, as was the color of the Hermana’s stack, which was, of course, + yellow. She was a pole-mast, schooner-rigged steam yacht, Charley + accurately told me, with clipper bow and spiked bowsprit. + </p> + <p> + “About a hundred tons?” I inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. A hundred feet long, beam twenty feet, and she draws twelve feet,” + said Charley; and I thought I detected the mate listening to him. + </p> + <p> + He now called my attention to the flags, and I am certain that I saw the + sailing-master hide his mouth with his hand. Some of the deck-hands seemed + to gather delicately nearer to us. + </p> + <p> + “Sunday, of course,” I said; and I pointed to the Jack flying from a staff + at the bow. + </p> + <p> + But Charley did not wish me to tell him about the flags, he wished to tell + me about the flags. “I am very strict about all this,” he said, his + gravity and nauticality increasing with every word. “At the fore truck + flies our club burgee.” + </p> + <p> + I went through my part, giving a solemn, silent, intelligent assent. + </p> + <p> + “That is my private signal at the main truck. It was designed by Miss + Rieppe.” + </p> + <p> + As I again intelligently nodded, I saw the boatswain move an elbow into + the ribs of one of the quartermasters. + </p> + <p> + “On the staff at the taffrail I have the United States yacht ensign,” + Charley continued. “That’s all,” he said, looking about for more flags, + and (to his disappointment, I think) finding no more. For he added: “But + at twelve o’c—at eight bells, the crew’s meal-flag will be in the + port fore rigging. While we are at lunch, my meal-flag will be in the + starboard main rigging.” + </p> + <p> + “It should be there all day,” I was tempted to remark to him, as my + wandering eye fell on the cabin boy carrying something more on a plate to + Kitty. But instead of this I said: “Well, she’s a beautiful boat!” + </p> + <p> + Charley shook his head. “I’m going to get rid of her.” + </p> + <p> + I was surprised. “Isn’t she all right?” It seemed to me that the crew + behind us were very attentive now. + </p> + <p> + “There is not enough refrigerator space,” said Charley. One of the + deck-hands whirled round instantly; but stolidity sat like adamant upon + the faces of the others as Charley turned in their direction, and we + continued our tour of the Hermana. Thus the little banker let me see his + little soul, deep down; and there I saw that to pass for a real yachtsman—which + he would never be able to do—was dearer to his pride than to bring + off successfully some huge and delicate matter in the world’s finance—which + he could always do supremely well. “I’m just like that, too,” I thought to + myself; and we returned to the gay Kitty. + </p> + <p> + But Kitty, despite her gayety, had serious thoughts upon her mind. + Charley’s attentions to me had met all that politeness required, and as we + went aft again, his sister caused certain movements and rearrangements to + happen with chairs and people. I didn’t know this at once, but I knew it + when I found myself somehow sitting with her and John, and saw Hortense + with Charley. Hortense looked over at Kitty with a something that had in + it both raised eyebrows and a shrug, though these visible signs did not + occur; and, indeed, so far as anything visible went (except the look) you + might have supposed that now Hortense had no thoughts for any man in the + world save Charley. And John was plainly more at ease with Kitty! He began + to make himself agreeable, so that once or twice she gave him a glance of + surprise. There was nothing to mark him out from the others, except his + paleness in the midst of their redness. Yachting clothes bring out + wonderfully how much you are in the habit of eating and drinking; and an + innocent stranger might have supposed that the Replacers were richly + sunburned from exposure to the blazing waters of Cuba and the tropics. + Kitty deemed it suitable to extol Kings Port to John. “Quaint” was the + word that did most of this work for her; she found everything that, even + the negroes; and when she had come to the end of it, she supposed the + inside must be just as “quaint” as the outside. + </p> + <p> + “It is,” said John Mayrant. He was enjoying Kitty. Then he became + impertinent. “You ought to see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you stay inside much?” said Kitty. + </p> + <p> + “We all do,” said John. “Some of us never come out.” + </p> + <p> + “But you came out?” Kitty suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ve been out,” John returned. He was getting older. I doubt if the + past few years of his life had matured him as much as had the past few + days. Then he looked at Kitty in the eyes. “And I’d always come out—if + Romance rang the bell.” + </p> + <p> + “Hm!” said Kitty. “Then you know that ring?” + </p> + <p> + “We begin to hear it early in Kings Port,” remarked John. “About the age + of fourteen.” + </p> + <p> + Kitty looked at him with an interest that now plainly revealed curiosity + also. It occurred to me that he could not have found any great + embarrassment in getting on at Newport. “What if I rang the bell myself?” + explained Kitty. + </p> + <p> + “Come in the evening,” returned John. “We won’t go home till morning.” + </p> + <p> + Kitty kissed her hand to him, and, during the pleased giggle that she + gave, I saw her first taking in John and then Hortense. Kitty was + thinking, thinking, of John’s “crudity.” And so I made a little experiment + for myself. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if men seem as similar in making love as women do in receiving + it?” + </p> + <p> + “They aren’t!” shouted both John and Kitty, in the same indignant breath. + Their noise brought Bohm to listen to us. + </p> + <p> + This experiment was so much a success that I promptly made another for the + special benefit of Bohm, Kitty’s next husband. I find it often delightful + to make a little gratuitous mischief, just to watch the victims. I + addressed Kitty. “What would you do if a man said he could drown in your + hair as joyfully as the Duke of Clarence did in his butt of Malmsey?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—” gasped Kitty, “why—why—” + </p> + <p> + I suppose it gave John time; but even so he was splendid. + </p> + <p> + “She has heard it said!” This was his triumphant shout. I should not have + supposed that Kitty could have turned any redder, but she did. John buried + his nose in his tall glass, and gulped a choking quantity of its contents, + and mopped his face profusely; but little good that effected. There sat + this altogether innocent pair, deeply suffused with the crimson of + apparent guilt, and there stood Kitty’s next husband, eyeing them + suspiciously. My little gratuitous mischief was a perfect success, and + remains with me as one of the bright spots in this day of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Vivacious measures from the piano brought Kitty to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “There’s Gazza!” she cried. “We’ll make him sing!” And on the instant she + was gone down the companionway. Bohm followed her with a less agitated + speed, and soon all were gone below, leaving John and me alone on the + deck, sitting together in silence. + </p> + <p> + John lolled back in his chair, slowly sipping at his tall glass, and + neither of us made any remark. I think he wanted to ask me how I came to + mention the Duke of Clarence; but I did not see how he very well could, + and he certainly made no attempt to do so. Thus did we sit for some time, + hearing the piano and the company grow livelier and louder with solos, and + choruses, and laughter. By and by the shadow of the awning shifted, + causing me to look up, when I saw the shores slowly changing; the tide had + turned, and was beginning to run out. Land and water lay in immense peace; + the long, white, silent picture of the town with its steeples on the one + hand, and on the other the long, low shore, and the trees behind. Into + this rose the high voice of Gazza, singing in broken English, + “Razzla-dazzla, razzla-dazzla,” while his hearers beat upon glasses with + spoons—at least so I conjectured. + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you coming, John?” asked Hortense, appearing at the companionway. + She looked very bacchanalian. Her splendid amber hair was half riotous, + and I was reminded of the toboggan fire-escape. + </p> + <p> + He obeyed her; and now I had the deck entirely to myself, or, rather, but + one other and distant person shared it with me. The hour had come, the + bells had struck; Charley’s crew was eating its dinner below forward; + Charley’s guests were drinking their liquor below aft; Charley’s correct + meal-flag was to be seen in the port fore rigging, as he had said, red and + triangular; and away off from me in the bow was the anchor watch, whom I + dreamily watched trying to light his pipe. His matches seemed to be bad; + and the brotherly thought of helping him drifted into my mind—and + comfortably out of it again, without disturbing my agreeable repose. It + had been really entertaining in John to tell Kitty that she ought to see + the inside of Kings Port; that was like his engaging impishness with Juno. + If by any possible contrivance (and none was possible) Kitty and her + Replacers could have met the inside of Kings Port, Kitty would have added + one more “quaint” impression to her stock, and gone away in total + ignorance of the quality of the impression she had made—and Bohm + would probably have again remarked, “Worse than Sunday.” No; the St. + Michaels and the Replacers would never meet in this world, and I see no + reason that they should in the next. John’s light and pleasing skirmish + with Kitty gave me the glimpse of his capacities which I had lacked + hitherto. John evidently “knew his way about,” as they say; and I was + diverted to think how Miss Josephine St. Michael would have nodded over + his adequacy and shaken her head at his squandering it on such a + companion. But it was no squandering; the boy’s heavy spirit was making a + gallant “bluff” at playing up with the lively party he had no choice but + to join, and this one saw the moment he was not called upon to play up. + </p> + <p> + The peaceful loveliness that floated from earth and water around me + triumphed over the jangling hilarity of the cabin, and I dozed away, aware + that they were now all thumping furiously in chorus, while Gazza sang + something that went, “Oh, she’s my leetle preety poosee pet.” When I + roused, it was Kitty’s voice at the piano, but no change in the quality of + the song or the thumping; and Hortense was stepping on deck. She had a + cigarette, her beauty flashed with devilment, and John followed her. “They + are going to have an explanation,” I thought, as I saw his face. If that + were so, then Kitty had blundered in her strategy and hurt Charley’s + cause; for after the two came Gazza, as obviously “sent” as any emissary + ever looked: Kitty took care of the singing, while Gazza intercepted any + tete-a-tete. I rose and made a fourth with them, and even as I was drawing + near, the devilment in Hortense’s face sank inward beneath cold + displeasure. + </p> + <p> + I had never been a welcome person to Hortense, and she made as little + effort to conceal this as usual. Her indifferent eyes glanced at me with + drowsy insolence, and she made her beautiful, low voice as remote and + inattentive as her skilful social equipment could render it. + </p> + <p> + “It is so hot in the cabin.” + </p> + <p> + This was all she had for me. Then she looked at Gazza with returning + animation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, la la!” said Gazza. “If it is hot in the cabin!” And he flirted his + handkerchief back and forth. + </p> + <p> + “I think I had the best of it,” I remarked. “All the melody and none of + the temperature.” + </p> + <p> + Hortense saw no need of noticing me further + </p> + <p> + “The singer has the worst of it,” said Gazza. + </p> + <p> + “But since you all sang!” I laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Rieppe, she is cool,” continued Gazza. “And she danced. It is not + fair.” + </p> + <p> + John contributed nothing. He was by no means playing up now. He was + looking away at the shore. + </p> + <p> + Gazza hummed a little fragment. “But after lunch I will sing you good + music.” + </p> + <p> + “So long as it keeps us cool,” I suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no! It will not be cool music!” cried Gazza—“for those who + understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Are those boys bathing?” Hortense now inquired. + </p> + <p> + We watched the distant figures, and presently they flashed into the water. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, me!” sighed Gazza. “If I were a boy!” + </p> + <p> + Hortense looked at him. “You would be afraid.” The devilment had come out + again, suddenly and brilliantly: + </p> + <p> + “I never have been afraid!” declared Gazza. + </p> + <p> + “You would not jump in after me,” said Hortense, taking his measure more + and more provokingly. + </p> + <p> + Gazza laid his hand on his heart. “Where you go, I will go!” + </p> + <p> + Hortense looked at him, and laughed very slightly and lightly. + </p> + <p> + “I swear it! I swear!” protested Gazza. + </p> + <p> + John’s eyes were now fixed upon Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “Would you go?” she asked him + </p> + <p> + “Decidedly not!” he returned. I don’t know whether he was angry or + anxious. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you would!” said Hortense; and she jumped into the water, + cigarette and all. + </p> + <p> + “Get a boat, quick,” said John to me; and with his coat flung off he was + in the river, whose current Hortense could scarce have reckoned with; for + they were both already astern as I ran out on the port boat boom. + </p> + <p> + Gazza was dancing and shrieking, “Man overboard!” which, indeed, was the + correct expression, only it did not apply to himself. Gazza was a very + sensible person. I had, as I dropped into the nearest boat, a brisk sight + of the sailing-master, springing like a jack-in-the-box on the deserted + deck, with a roar of “Where’s that haymaker?” His reference was to the + anchor watch. The temptation to procure good matches to light his pipe had + ended (I learned later) by proving too much for this responsible + sailor-man, and he had unfortunately chosen for going below just the + unexpected moment when it had entered the daring head of Hortense to + perform this extravagance. Of course, before I had pulled many strokes, + the deck of the Hermana was alive with many manifestations of life-saving + and they had most likely been in time. But I am not perfectly sure of + this; the current was strong, and a surprising distance seemed to broaden + between me and the Hermana before another boat came into sight around her + stern. By then, or just after that (for I cannot clearly remember the + details of these few anxious minutes), I had caught up with John, whose + face, and total silence, as he gripped the stern of the boat with one hand + and held Hortense with the other, plainly betrayed it was high time + somebody came. A man can swim (especially in salt water) with his shoes + on, and his clothes add nothing of embarrassment, if his arms are free; + but a woman’s clothes do not help either his buoyancy or the freedom of + his movement. John now lifted Hortense’s two hands, which took a good hold + of the boat. From between her lips the dishevelled cigarette, bitten + through and limp, fell into the water. The boat felt the weight of the two + hands to it. + </p> + <p> + “Take care,” I warned John. + </p> + <p> + Hortense opened her eyes and looked at me; she knew that I meant her. + “I’ll not swamp you.” This was her first remark. Her next was when, after + no incautious haste, I had hauled her in over the stern, John working + round to the bow for the sake of balance: “I was not dressed for + swimming.” Very quietly did Hortense speak; very coolly, very evenly; no + fainting—and no flippancy; she was too game for either. + </p> + <p> + After this, whatever emotions she had felt, or was feeling, she showed + none of them, unless it was by her complete silence. John’s coming into + the boat we managed with sufficient dexterity; aided by the horrified + Charley, who now arrived personally in the other boat, and was for taking + all three of us into that. But this was altogether unnecessary; he was + made to understand that such transferences as it would occasion were + superfluous, and so one of his men stepped into our boat to help me to row + back against the current; and for this I was not unthankful. + </p> + <p> + Our return took, it appeared to me, a much longer time than everything + else which had happened. When I looked over my shoulder at the Hermana, + she seemed an incredible distance off, and when I looked again, she had + grown so very little nearer that I abandoned this fruitless proceeding. + Charley’s boat had gone ahead to announce the good news to General Rieppe + as soon as possible. But if our return was long to me, to Hortense it was + not so. She sat beside her lover in the stern, and I knew that he was more + to her than ever: it was her spirit also that wanted him now. Poor Kitty’s + words of prophecy had come perversely true: “Something will happen, and + that boy’ll be conspicuous.” Well, it had happened with a vengeance, and + all wrong for Kitty, and all wrong for me! Then I remembered Charley, last + of all. My doubt as to what he would have done, had he been on deck, was + settled later by learning from his own lips that he did not know how to + swim. + </p> + <p> + Yes, the sentimental world (and by that I mean the immense and mournful + preponderance of fools, and not the few of true sentiment) would soon be + exclaiming: “How romantic! She found her heart! She had a glimpse of + Death’s angel, and in that light saw her life’s true happiness!” But I + should say nothing like that, nor would Miss Josephine St. Michael, if I + read that lady at all right. She didn’t know what I did about Hortense. + She hadn’t overheard Sophistication confessing amorous curiosity about + Innocence; but the old Kings Port lady’s sound instinct would tell her + that a souse in the water wasn’t likely to be enough to wash away the + seasoning of a lifetime; and she would wait, as I should, for the day when + Hortense, having had her taste of John’s innocence, and having grown used + to the souse in the water, would wax restless for the Replacers, for + excitement, for complexity, for the prismatic life. Then it might interest + her to corrupt John; but if she couldn’t, where would her occupation be, + and how were they going to pull through? + </p> + <p> + But now, there sat Hortense in the stern, melted into whatever best she + was capable of; it had come into her face, her face was to be read—for + the first time since I had known it—and, strangely enough, I + couldn’t read John’s at all. It seemed happy, which was impossible. + </p> + <p> + “Way enough!” he cried suddenly, and, at his command, the sailor and I + took in our oars. Here was Hermana’s gangway, and crowding faces above, + and ejaculations and tears from Kitty. Yes, Hortense would have liked that + return voyage to last longer. I was first on the gangway, and stood to + wait and give them a hand out; but she lingered, and; rising slowly, spoke + her first word to him, softly:— + </p> + <p> + “And so I owe you my life.” + </p> + <p> + “And so I restore it to you complete,” said John, instantly. + </p> + <p> + None could have heard it but myself—unless the sailor, beyond whose + comprehension it was—and I doubted for a moment if I could have + heard right; but it was for a moment only. Hortense stood stiff, and then, + turning, came in front of him, and I read her face for an instant longer + before the furious hate in it was mastered to meet her father’s embrace, + as I helped her up the gang. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter mine!” said the General, with a magnificent break in his voice. + </p> + <p> + But Hortense was game to the end. She took Kitty’s-hysterics and the men’s + various grades of congratulation; her word to Gazza would have been + supreme, but for his imperishable rejoinder. + </p> + <p> + “I told you you wouldn’t jump,” was what she said. + </p> + <p> + Gazza stretched both arms, pointing to John. “But a native! He was surer + to find you!” + </p> + <p> + At this they all remembered John, whom they thus far hadn’t thought of. + </p> + <p> + “Where is that lion-hearted boy?” the General called out. + </p> + <p> + John hadn’t got out of the boat; he thought he ought to change his + clothes, he said; and when Charley, truly astonished, proffered his entire + wardrobe and reminded him of lunch, it was thank you very much, but if he + could be put ashore—I looked for Hortense, to see what she would do, + but Hortense, had gone below with Kitty to change her clothes, and the + genuinely hearty protestations from all the rest brought merely pleasantly + firm politeness from John, as he put on again the coat he had flung off on + jumping. At least he would take a drink, urged Charley. Yes, thank you, he + would; and he chose brandy-and-soda, of which he poured himself a + remarkably stiff one. Charley and I poured ourselves milder ones, for the + sake of company. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s how,” said Charley to John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, here’s how,” I added more emphatically. + </p> + <p> + John looked at Charley with a somewhat extraordinary smile. “Here’s + unquestionably how!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + We had a gay lunch; I should have supposed there was plenty of room in the + Hermana’s refrigerator; nor did the absence of Hortense and John, the + cause of our jubilation, at all interfere with the jubilation itself; by + the time the launch was ready to put me ashore, Gazza had sung several + miles of “good music” and double that quantity of “razzla-dazzla,” and + General Rieppe was crying copiously, and assuring everybody that God was + very good to him. But Kitty had told us all that she intended Hortense to + remain quiet in her cabin; and she kept her word. + </p> + <p> + Quite suddenly, as the launch was speeding me toward Kings Port, I + exclaimed aloud: “The cake!” + </p> + <p> + And, I thought, the cake was now settled forever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII: Behind the Times + </h2> + <p> + It was my lot to attend but one of the weddings which Hortense + precipitated (or at least determined) by her plunge into the water; and, + truth to say, the honor of my presence at the other was not requested; + therefore I am unable to describe the nuptials of Hortense and Charley. + But the papers were full of them; what the female guests wore, what the + male guests were worth, and what both ate and drank, were set forth in + many columns of printed matter; and if you did not happen to see this, + just read the account of the next wedding that occurs among the New York + yellow rich, and you will know how Charley and Hortense were married; for + it’s always the same thing. The point of mark in this particular ceremony + of union lay in Charley’s speech; Charley found a happy thought at the + breakfast. The bridal party (so the papers had it) sat on a dais, and was + composed exclusively of Oil, Sugar, Beef, Steel, and Union Pacific; merely + at this one table five hundred million dollars were sitting (so the papers + computed), and it helped the bridegroom to his idea, when, by the + importunate vociferations of the company, he was forced to get on his + unwilling legs. + </p> + <p> + “Poets and people of that sort say” (Charley concluded, after thanking + them) “that happiness cannot be bought with money. Well, I guess a poet + never does learn how to make a dollar do a dollar’s work. But I am no + poet; and I have learned it is as well to have a few dollars around. And I + guess that my friends and I, right here at this table, could organize a + corner in happiness any day we chose. And if we do, we will let you all in + on it.” + </p> + <p> + I am told that the bride looked superb, both in church and at the + reception which took place in the house of Kitty; and that General Rieppe, + in spite of his shattered health, maintained a noble appearance through + the whole ordeal of parting with his daughter. I noticed that Beverly + Rodgers and Gazza figured prominently among the invited guests: Bohm did + not have to be invited, for some time before the wedding he had become the + husband of the successfully divorced Kitty. So much for the nuptials of + Hortense and Charley; they were, as one paper pronounced them, “up to date + and distingue.” The paper omitted the accent in the French word, which + makes it, I think, fit this wedding even more happily. + </p> + <p> + “So Hortense,” I said to myself as I read the paper, “has squared herself + with Charley after all.” And I sat wondering if she would be happy. But + she was not constructed for happiness. You cannot be constructed for all + the different sorts of experiences which this world offers: each of our + natures has its specialty. Hortense was constructed for pleasure; and I + have no doubt she got it, if not through Charley, then by other means. + </p> + <p> + The marriage of Eliza La Heu and John Mayrant was of a different quality; + no paper pronounced it “up to date,” or bestowed any other adjectival + comments upon it; for, being solemnized in Kings Port, where such purely + personal happenings are still held (by the St. Michael family, at any + rate) to be no business of any one’s save those immediately concerned, the + event escaped the famishment of publicity. Yes, this marriage was + solemnized, a word that I used above without forethought, and now repeat + with intention; for certainly no respecter of language would write it of + the yellow rich and their blatant unions. If you’re a Bohm or a Charley, + you may trivialize or vulgarize or bestialize your wedding, but solemnize + it you don’t, for that is not “up to date.” + </p> + <p> + And to the marriage of Eliza and John I went; for not only was the honor + of my presence requested, but John wrote me, in both their names, a + personal note, which came to me far away in the mountains, whither I had + gone from Kings Port. This was the body of the note:— + </p> + <p> + “To the formal invitation which you will receive, Miss La Heu joins her + wish with mine that you will not be absent on that day. We should both + really miss you. Miss La Heu begs me to add that if this is not sufficient + inducement, you shall have a slice of Lady Baltimore.” + </p> + <p> + Not a long note! But you will imagine how genuinely I was touched by their + joint message. I was not an old acquaintance, and I had done little to + help them in their troubles, but I came into the troubles; with their + memory of those days I formed a part, and it was a part which it warmed me + to know they did not dislike to recall. I had actually been present at + their first meeting, that day when John visited the Exchange to order his + wedding-cake, and Eliza had rushed after him, because in his embarrassment + he had forgotten to tell her the date for which he wanted it. The cake had + begun it, the cake had continued it, the cake had brought them together; + and in Eliza’s retrospect now I doubted If she could find the moment when + her love for John had awakened; but if with women there ever is such a + moment, then, as I have before said, it was when the girl behind the + counter looked across at the handsome, blushing boy, and felt stirred to + help him in his stumbling attempts to be businesslike about that cake. If + his youth unwittingly kindled hers, how could he or she help that? But, + had he ever once known it and shown it to her during his period of bondage + to Hortense, then, indeed, the flame would have turned to ice in Eliza’s + breast. What saved him for her was his blind steadfastness against her. + That was the very thing she prized most, once it became hers; whereas, any + secret swerving toward her from Hortense during his heavy hours of + probation would have degraded John to nothing in Eliza’s eyes. And so, + making all this out by myself in the mountains after reading John’s note, + I ordered from the North the handsomest old china cake-dish that Aunt + Carola could find to be sent to Miss Eliza La Heu with my card. I wanted + to write on the card, “Rira bien qui viva le dernier”; but alas! so many + pleasant thoughts may never be said aloud in this world of ours. That I + ordered china, instead of silver, was due to my surmise that in Kings Port—or + at any rate by Mrs. Weguelin and Miss Josephine St. Michael—silver + from any one not of the family would be considered vulgar; it was only a + surmise, and, of course, it was precisely the sort of thing that I could + not verify by asking any of them. + </p> + <p> + But (you may be asking) how on earth did all this come about? What + happened in Kings Port on the day following that important swim which + Hortense and John took together in the waters of the harbor? + </p> + <p> + I wish that I could tell you all that happened, but I can only tell you of + the outside of things; the inside was wholly invisible and inaudible to + me, although we may be sure, I think, that when the circles that widened + from Hortense’s plunge reached the shores of the town, there must have + been in certain quarters a considerable splashing. I presume that John + communicated to somebody the news of his broken engagement; for if he + omitted to do so, with the wedding invitations to be out the next day, he + was remiss beyond excuse, and I think this very unlikely; and I also + presume (with some evidence to go on) that Hortense did not, in the + somewhat critical juncture of her fortunes, allow the grass to grow under + her feet—if such an expression may be used of a person who is shut + up in the stateroom of a steam yacht. To me John Mayrant made no sign of + any sort by word or in writing, and this is the highest proof he ever gave + me of his own delicacy, and also of his reliance upon mine; for he must + have been pretty sure that I had overheard those last destiny-deciding + words spoken between himself and Hortense in the boat, as we reached the + Hermana’s gangway. In John’s place almost any man, even Beverly Rodgers, + would have either dropped a hint at the moment, or later sent me some line + to the effect that the incident was, of course, “between ourselves.” That + would have been both permissible and practical; but there it was, the + difference between John of Kings Port and us others; he was not practical + when it came to something “between gentlemen,” as he would have said. The + finest flower of breeding blossoms above the level of the practical, and + that is why you do not find it growing in the huge truck-garden of our + age, save in corners where it has not yet been uprooted. John’s silence to + me was something that I liked very much, and he must have found that it + was not misplaced. + </p> + <p> + The first external splash of the few that I have to narrate was a negative + manifestation, and occurred at breakfast: Juno supposed if the wedding + invitations would be out later in the day. The next splash was somewhat + louder on, was at dinner, when Juno inquired of Mrs. Trevise if she had + received any wedding invitation. At tea time was very decided splashing. + No invitation had come to anybody. Juno had called at five of the St. + Michael houses and got in at none of them, and there was a rumor that the + Hermana had disappeared from the harbor. So far, none of the splashing had + wet me but I now came in for a light sprinkle. + </p> + <p> + “Were you not on board that boat yesterday?” Juno inquired; and to see her + look at me you might have gathered that I was suspected of sinking the + vessel. + </p> + <p> + “A most delightful occasion!” I exclaimed, filling my face with a bright + blankness. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t he awful to speak that way about Sunday!” said the up-country + bride. + </p> + <p> + This was a chance for the poetess, and she took it. “To me,” she mused, + “every day seems fraught with an equal holiness.” + </p> + <p> + “But I should think,” observed the Briton, “that you could knock off a + hymn better on Sundays.” + </p> + <p> + All this while Juno was looking at me, and I knew it, and therefore I ate + my food in a kindly sort of unconscious way, until she fired another shot + at me. “There is an absurd report that somebody fell overboard.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” I laughed. “So that is what it has grown to already! I did go + out on the boat boom, and I did drop off—but into a boat.” + </p> + <p> + At this confession of mine the up-country bride became extraordinarily + arch on the subject of the well-known hospitality of steam yachts, and for + this I was honestly grateful to her; but Juno brooded still. “I hope there + is nothing wrong,” she said solemnly. + </p> + <p> + Feeling that silence at this point would not be golden, I went into it + with spirit I told them of our charming party, of General Rieppe’s rich + store of quotations, of the strict discipline on board the well-appointed + Hermana, of the great beauty of Hortense, and her evident happiness when + her lover was by her side. This talk of mine turned off any curiosity or + suspicion which the rest of the company may have begun to entertain; but + upon Juno I think it made scant impression, save causing her to set me + down as an imbecile. For there was Doctor Beaugarcon when we came into the + sitting-room, who told us before any one could even say “How-do-you-do,” + that Miss Hortense Rieppe had broken her engagement with John Mayrant, and + that he had it from Mrs. Cornerly, whom he was visiting professionally. I + caught the pitying look which Juno threw at me at this news, and I was + happy to have acquitted myself so creditably in the manipulation of my + secret: nobody asked me any more questions! + </p> + <p> + There is almost nothing else to tell you of how the splashes broke on + Kings Port. Before the day when I was obliged to call in Doctor + Beaugarcon’s professional services (quite a sharp attack put me to bed for + half a week) I found merely the following things: the Hermana gone to New + York, the automobiles and the Replacers had also disappeared, and people + were divided on the not strikingly important question as to whether + Hortense and the General had accompanied Charley on the yacht, or + continued northward in an automobile, or taken the train. Gone, in any + case, the whole party indubitably was, leaving, I must say, a sense of + emptiness: the comedy was over, the players departed. I never heard any + one, not even Juno, doubt that it was Hortense who had broken the + engagement; this part of the affair was conducted by the principals with + great skill. Hortense had evidently written her version to the Cornerlys, + and not a word to any other effect ever came from John’s mouth, of course. + One result I had not looked for, though it was a natural one: if the old + ladies had felt indignation at Hortense for her determination to marry + John Mayrant, this indignation was doubled by her determination not to! I + fear that few of us live by logic, even in Kings Port; and then, they had + all called upon her in that garden for nothing! The sudden thought of this + made me laugh alone in my bed of sickness; and when I came out of it, had + such a thing been possible, I should have liked to congratulate Miss + Josephine St. Michael on her absence from the garden occasion. I said, + however, nothing to her, or to any of the other ladies, upon this or any + subject, for I was so unlucky as to find them not at home when I paid my + round of farewell visits. Nor (to my real distress) did I see John Mayrant + again. The boy wrote me (I received it in bed) a short, warm note of + regret, with nothing else in it save the fact that he was leaving town, + having become free from the Custom House at last. I fancy that he ran away + for a judicious interval. Who would not? + </p> + <p> + Was there one person to whom he told the truth before he went? Did the + girl behind the counter hear the manner in which the engagement was + broken? Ah, none of us will ever know that! But, although I could not, + without the highest impropriety, have spoken to any of the old ladies + about this business, unless they had chosen to speak to me—and + somehow I feel that after the abrupt close of it not even Mrs. Gregory St. + Michael would have been likely to touch on the subject with an outsider—there + was nothing whatever to forbid my indulging in a skirmish with Eliza La + Heu; therefore I lunched at the Exchange on my last day. + </p> + <p> + “To the mountains?” she said, in reply to my information about my plans of + travel. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor Beaugarcon says nothing else can so quickly restore me.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay there for the rhododendrons, then,” she bade me. “No sight more + beautiful in all the South.” + </p> + <p> + “Town seems deserted,” I pursued. “Everybody gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not everybody!” + </p> + <p> + “All the interesting people.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “I meant, interesting to you.” + </p> + <p> + I saw her decide not to be angry; and her decision changed and saved our + conversation from the trashy, bantering tone which it was taking, and + brought it to a pass most unexpected to both of us. + </p> + <p> + She gave me a charming and friendly smile. “Well, you, at any rate, are + going away. And I am really sorry for that.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes rested upon me with perfect frankness. I was not in love with + Eliza La Heu, but nearer to love than I had ever been then, and it would + have been easy, very easy, to let one’s self go straight onward into love. + There are for a man more ways of falling into that state than romancers + would have us to believe, and one of them is by an assent of the will at a + certain given moment, which the heart promptly follows—just as a man + in a moment decides he will espouse a cause, and soon finds himself hotly + fighting for it body and soul. I could have gone out of that Exchange + completely in love with Eliza La Heu; but my will did not give its assent, + and I saw John Mayrant not as a rival, but as one whose happiness I + greatly desired. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” I said, “for telling me you are sorry I am going. And now, + may I treat you more than ever as a friend, and tell you of a circumstance + which Kings Port does not know?” + </p> + <p> + It put her on her guard. “Don’t be indiscreet,” she laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t timely indiscretion discretion?” + </p> + <p> + “And don’t be clever,” she said. “Tell me what you have to say—if + you’re quite sure you’ll not be sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure. There’s no reason—now that the untruth is properly and + satisfactorily established—that one person should not know that John + Mayrant broke that engagement.” And I told her the whole of it. “If I’m + outrageous to share this secret with you,” I concluded, “I can only say + that I couldn’t stand the unfairness any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “He jumped straight in?” said Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, straight!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “And just after declaring that he wouldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” she murmured again. “And the current took them right away?” + </p> + <p> + “Instantly.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he very tired when you got to him?” + </p> + <p> + I answered this question and a number of others, backward and forward, + until she had led me to cover the whole incident about twice-and-a-half + times. Then she had a silence, and after this a reflection. + </p> + <p> + “How well they managed it!” + </p> + <p> + “Managed what?” + </p> + <p> + “The accepted version.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “And you and I will not spoil it for them,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + As I took my final leave of her she put a flower in my buttonhole. My + reflection was then, and is now, that if she already knew the truth from + John himself, how well she managed it! + </p> + <p> + So that same night I took the lugubrious train which bore me with the + grossest deliberation to the mountains; and among the mountains and their + waterfalls I stayed and saw the rhododendrons, and was preparing to + journey home when the invitation came from John and Eliza. + </p> + <p> + I have already said that of this wedding no word was in the papers. Kings + Port by the war lost all material things, but not the others, among which + precious privacy remains to her; and, O Kings Port, may you never lose + your grasp of that treasure! May you never know the land where the + reporter blooms, where if any joy or grief befall you, the public press + rings your doorbell and demands the particulars, and if you deny it the + particulars, it makes them up and says something scurrilous about you into + the bargain. Therefore nothing was printed, morning or evening, about John + and Eliza. Nor was the wedding service held in church to the accompaniment + of nodding bonnets and gaping stragglers. No eye not tender with regard + and emotion looked on while John took Eliza to his wedded wife, to live + together after God’s ordinance in the holy state of matrimony. + </p> + <p> + In Royal Street, not many steps from South Place, there stands a quiet + house a little back, upon whose face sorrow has struck many blows, but + made no deep wounds yet; no scorch from the fires of war is visible, and + the rending of the earthquake does not show too plainly; but there hangs + about the house a gravity that comes from seeing and suffering much, and a + sweetness from having sheltered many generations of smiles and tears. The + long linked chain of births and deaths here has not been broken and + scattered, and the grandchildren look out of the same windows from which + the grandsires gazed, whose faces now in picture frames still watch + serenely the sad present from their happy past. Therefore the rooms lie in + still depths of association, and from the walls, the stairs, the + furniture, flows the benign influence of undispersed memories; it sheds + its tempered radiance upon the old miniatures, and upon every fresh flower + that comes in from the garden; it seems to pass through the open doors to + and fro like a tranquil blessing; it is beyond joy and pain, because time + has distilled it from both of these; it is the assembled essence of + kinship and blood unity, enriched by each succeeding brood that is born, + is married, is fruitful in its turn, and dies remembered; only the balm of + faith is stronger to sustain and heal; for that comes from heaven, while + it is earth that gives us this; and the sacred cup of it which our native + land once held is almost empty. + </p> + <p> + Amid this influence John and Eliza were made one, and the faces of the + older generations grew soft beneath it, and pensive eyes became lustrous, + and into pale cheeks the rosy tint came like an echo faintly back for a + short hour. They made so little sound in their quiet happiness of + congratulation that it might have been a dream; and they were so few that + the house with the sense of its memories was not lost with the movement + and crowding, but seemed still to preside over the whole, and send down + its benediction. + </p> + <p> + When it was my turn to shake the hands of bride and groom, John asked:— + </p> + <p> + “What did your friend do with your advice?” + </p> + <p> + And I replied. “He has taken it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not that,” John returned, “but you must have helped him to see + his way.” + </p> + <p> + When the bride came to cut the cake, she called me to her and fulfilled + her promise. + </p> + <p> + “You have always liked my baking,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Then you made it after all,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + “I would not have been married without doing so,” she declared sweetly. + </p> + <p> + When the time came for them to go away, they were surrounded with + affectionate God-speeds; but Miss Josephine St. Michael waited to be the + last, standing a little apart, her severe and chiselled face turned aside, + and seeming to watch a mocking-bird that was perched in his cage at a + window halfway up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “He is usually not so silent,” Miss Josephine said to me. “I suppose we + are too many visitors for him.” + </p> + <p> + Then I saw that the old lady, beneath her severity, was deeply moved; and + almost at once John and Eliza came down the stairs. Miss Josephine took + each of them to her heart, but she did not trust herself to speak; and a + single tear rolled down her face, as the boy and girl continued to the + hall-door. There Daddy Ben stood, and John’s gay good-by to him was the + last word that I heard the bridegroom say. While we all stood silently + watching them as they drove away from the tall iron gate, the mocking-bird + on the staircase broke into melodious ripples of song. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII: Poor Aunt Carola! + </h2> + <p> + And now here goes my language back into the small-clothes that it wore at + the beginning of all, when I told you something of that colonial society, + the Selected Salic Scions, dear to the heart of my Aunt. It were beyond my + compass to approach this august body of men and women with the respect + that is its due, did I attire myself in that modern garment which, in the + phrase of the vulgar, is denoted pants. + </p> + <p> + You will scarce have forgot, I must suppose, the importance set by my Aunt + Carola upon the establishing of the Scions in new territories, wherever + such persons as were both qualified by their descent and in themselves + worthy, should be found; and you will remember that I was bidden by her to + look in South Carolina for members of the Bombo connection which she was + inclined to suspect existed in that state. My neglect to make this inquiry + for my kind Aunt now smote me sharply when all seemed too late. John + Mayrant had spoken of Kill-devil Bombo, the very personage through whom + lay Aunt Carola’s claim to kingly lineage, and I had let John Mayrant go + away upon his honeymoon without ever questioning him upon this subject. As + I looked back upon the ease with which I might have settled the matter, + and forward to my return empty-handed to the generous relative to whom I + owed this agreeable experience of travel, I felt guilty indeed. I wrote a + letter to follow John Mayrant into whatever retreat of bliss he had + betaken himself to, and I begged him earnestly to write me at his early + convenience all that he might know of Bombos in South Carolina. + Consequently, I was able, on reaching home, to meet Aunt Carola with some + sort of countenance, and to assure her that I expected presently to be + furnished with authentic and valuable particulars. + </p> + <p> + I now learned that the Selected Salic Scions had greatly increased in + numbers during my short absence. It appeared that the origin of the whole + movement had sprung from a needy but ingenious youth in some manufacturing + town of New England. This lad had a cousin, who had amassed from nothing a + noble fortune by inventing one day a speedy and convenient fashion of + opening beer bottles; and this cousin’s achievement had set him to looking + about him. He soon discovered that in our great republic everywhere there + were living hundreds and thousands of men and women who were utterly + unaware that they were descended from kings. Borrowing a little money to + float him, he set up The American Almanach de Gotha and began (for the + minimum sum of fifty dollars a pedigree) to reveal to these eager people + the chain of links that connected them with royalty. Thus, in a period of + time the brevity of which is incredible, this young man passed from + complete indigence to a wife and four automobiles, or an automobile and + four wives—I don’t remember which he had the four of. There was so + much royal blood about that it had spilled into several rival + organizations, each bitterly warring with the other; but my Aunt assured + me that her society was the only one that any respectable person belonged + to. + </p> + <p> + I am minded to announce a rule of discreet conduct: Never read aloud any + letter that you have not first read to yourself. Had I observed this rule—but + listen:— + </p> + <p> + It so happened that Aunt Carola was at luncheon with us when the postman + brought John Mayrant’s answer to my inquiry, and at the sight of his + handwriting I thoughtlessly exclaimed to my Aunt that here at last we had + all there was to be known concerning the Bombos in South Carolina; with + this I tore open the missive and embarked upon a reading of it for the + edification of all present. I pass over the beginning of John’s + communication, because it was merely the observations of a man upon his + honeymoon, and was confined to laudatory accounts of scenery and weather, + and the beauty of all life when once one saw it with his eyes truly + opened. + </p> + <p> + “No Bombos ever came to Carolina,” he now continued, “that I know of, or + that Aunt Josephine knows of, which is more to the point. Aunt Josephine + has copied me a passage from the writings of William Byrd, Esq., of + Westover, Virginia, in which mention is made, not of the family, but of a + rum punch which seems to have been concocted first by Admiral Bombo, from + a New England brand of rum so very deadly that it was not inaptly styled + ‘kill-devil’ by the early planters of the colony. That the punch drifted + to Carolina and still survives there, you have reason to know. Therefore + if any remote ancestors of yours contracted an alliance with Kill-devil + Bombo, I can imagine no resulting offspring of such union but a series of + severe attacks of delir—” + </p> + <p> + “What?” interrupted Aunt Carola, at this point, in her most formidable + voice. “What’s that stuff you’re reading, Augustus?” + </p> + <p> + I shook in my shoes. “Why, Aunt, it’s John—” + </p> + <p> + “Not another word, sir! And never let me hear his name again. To think—to + think—” But here Aunt Carola’s face grew extremely red, and she + choked so decidedly that Uncle Andrew poured her a glass of water. + </p> + <p> + The rest of our luncheon was conducted with remarkable solemnity. + </p> + <p> + As we were rising from table, my Aunt said:— + </p> + <p> + “It was high time, Augustus, that you came home. You seem to have got into + very strange company down there.” + </p> + <p> + This was the last reference to the Bombos that my Aunt ever made in my + hearing. Of course it is preposterous to suppose that she traces her + descent from a king through a mere bowl of punch, and her being still the + president of the Selected Salic Scions is proof irrefutable that her claim + rests upon a more solid foundation. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV: Post Scriptum + </h2> + <p> + I think that John Mayrant, Jr., is going to look like his mother. I was + very glad to be present when he was christened, and at this ceremony I did + not feel as I had felt the year before at the wedding; for then I had + known well enough that if the old ladies found any blemish on that + occasion, it was my being there! To them I must remain forever a “Yankee,” + a wall perfectly imaginary and perfectly real between us; and the fact + that young John could take any other view of me, was to them a sign of + that “radical” tendency in him which they were able to forgive solely + because he was of the younger generation and didn’t know any better. + </p> + <p> + And with these thoughts in my mind, and remembering a certain very grave + talk I had once held with Eliza in the Exchange about the North and the + South, in which it was my good fortune to make her see that there is on + our soil nowadays such a being as an American, who feels, wherever he goes + in our native land, that it is all his, and that he belongs everywhere to + it, I looked at the little John Mayrant, and then I said to his mother:— + </p> + <p> + “And will you teach him ‘Dixie’ and ‘Yankee Doodle’ as well?” + </p> + <p> + But Eliza smiled at me with friendly, inscrutable eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said John, “you mustn’t ask too much of the ladies. I’ll see to all + that.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps he will. And an education at Harvard College need not cause the + boy to forget his race, or his name, or his traditions, but only to value + them more, as they should be valued. And the way that they should be + valued is this: that the boy in thinking of them should say to himself, “I + am proud of my ancestors; let my life make them proud of me.” + </p> + <p> + But, in any case, is it not pleasant to think of the boy being brought up + by Eliza, and not by Hortense? + </p> + <p> + And so my portrait of Kings Port is finished. That the likeness is not + perfect, I am only too sensible. No painter that I have heard of ever + satisfies the whole family. But, should any of the St. Michaels see this + picture, I trust they may observe that if some of the touches are faulty, + true admiration and love of his subject animated the artist’s hand; and if + Miss Josephine St. Michael should be pleased with any of it, I could wish + that she might indicate this by sending me a Lady Baltimore; we have no + cake here that approaches it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1386 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |