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diff --git a/14852.txt b/14852.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d6a36ea --- /dev/null +++ b/14852.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18341 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Younger Set, by Robert W. Chambers + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Younger Set + +Author: Robert W. Chambers + +Release Date: February 1, 2005 [EBook #14852] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNGER SET *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Charlie Kirschner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + +_The_ YOUNGER SET + + +WORKS OF ROBERT W. CHAMBERS + + THE YOUNGER SET + THE FIGHTING CHANCE + THE TREE OF HEAVEN + THE TRACER OF LOST PERSONS + THE RECKONING + IOLE + Cardigan + The Maid-at-Arms + Lorraine + Maids of Paradise + Ashes of Empire + The Red Republic + The King in Yellow + A Maker of Moons + A King and a Few Dukes + The Conspirators + The Cambric Mask + The Haunts of Men + Outsiders + A Young Man in a Hurry + The Mystery of Choice + In Search of the Unknown + In the Quarter + + * * * * * + + FOR CHILDREN + + Garden-Land + Forest-Land + River-Land + Mountain-Land + Orchard-Land + Outdoorland + +[Illustration: "Gave into his keeping soul and body."--Page 513] + + + + +_The_ + +YOUNGER SET + +BY + +ROBERT W. CHAMBERS + +AUTHOR OF + +"THE FIGHTING CHANCE," ETC. + + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +G.C. WILMSHURST + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + +NEW YORK + +_Published August, 1907_ + + + + +TO + +MY MOTHER + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + I.--HIS OWN PEOPLE 1 + II.--A DREAM ENDS 43 + III.--UNDER THE ASHES 84 + IV.--MID-LENT 119 + V.--AFTERGLOW 161 + VI.--THE UNEXPECTED 194 + VII.--ERRANDS AND LETTERS 242 +VIII.--SILVERSIDE 280 + IX.--A NOVICE 324 + X.--LEX NON SCRIPTA 384 + XI.--HIS OWN WAY 420 + XII.--HER WAY 460 + ARS AMORIS 503 + + + + +THE YOUNGER SET + + * * * * * + + +CHAPTER I + +HIS OWN PEOPLE + + +"You never met Selwyn, did you?" + +"No, sir." + +"Never heard anything definite about his trouble?" insisted Gerard. + +"Oh, yes, sir!" replied young Erroll, "I've heard a good deal about it. +Everybody has, you know." + +"Well, I _don't_ know," retorted Austin Gerard irritably, "what +'everybody' has heard, but I suppose it's the usual garbled version made +up of distorted fact and malicious gossip. That's why I sent for you. +Sit down." + +Gerald Erroll seated himself on the edge of the big, polished table in +Austin's private office, one leg swinging, an unlighted cigarette +between his lips. + +Austin Gerard, his late guardian, big, florid, with that peculiar blue +eye which seems to characterise hasty temper, stood by the window, +tossing up and catching the glittering gold piece--souvenir of the +directors' meeting which he had just left. + +"What has happened," he said, "is this. Captain Selwyn is back in +town--sent up his card to me, but they told him I was attending a +directors' meeting. When the meeting was over I found his card and a +message scribbled, saying he'd recently landed and was going uptown to +call on Nina. She'll keep him there, of course, until I get home, so I +shall see him this evening. Now, before you meet him, I want you to +plainly understand the truth about this unfortunate affair; and that's +why I telephoned your gimlet-eyed friend Neergard just now to let you +come around here for half an hour." + +The boy nodded and, drawing a gold matchbox from his waistcoat pocket, +lighted his cigarette. + +"Why the devil don't you smoke cigars?" growled Austin, more to himself +than to Gerald; then, pocketing the gold piece, seated himself heavily +in his big leather desk-chair. + +"In the first place," he said, "Captain Selwyn is my +brother-in-law--which wouldn't make an atom of difference to me in my +judgment of what has happened if he had been at fault. But the facts of +the case are these." He held up an impressive forefinger and laid it +flat across the large, ruddy palm of the other hand. "First of all, he +married a cat! C-a-t, cat. Is that clear, Gerald?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Good! What sort of a dance she led him out there in Manila, I've heard. +Never mind that, now. What I want you to know is how he behaved--with +what quiet dignity, steady patience, and sweet temper under constant +provocation and mortification, he conducted himself. Then that fellow +Ruthven turned up--and--Selwyn is above that sort of suspicion. Besides, +his scouts took the field within a week." + +He dropped a heavy, highly coloured fist on his desk with a bang. + +"After that hike, Selwyn came back, to find that Alixe had sailed with +Jack Ruthven. And what did he do; take legal measures to free himself, +as you or I or anybody with an ounce of temper in 'em would have done? +No; he didn't. That infernal Selwyn conscience began to get busy, making +him believe that if a woman kicks over the traces it must be because of +some occult shortcoming on his part. In some way or other that man +persuaded himself of his responsibility for her misbehaviour. He knew +what it meant if he didn't ask the law to aid him to get rid of her; he +knew perfectly well that his silence meant acknowledgment of +culpability; that he couldn't remain in the service under such +suspicion. + +"And now, Gerald," continued Austin, striking his broad palm with +extended forefinger and leaning heavily forward, "I'll tell you what +sort of a man Philip Selwyn is. He permitted Alixe to sue him for +absolute divorce--and, to give her every chance to marry Ruthven, he +refused to defend the suit. That sort of chivalry is very picturesque, +no doubt, but it cost him his career--set him adrift at thirty-five, a +man branded as having been divorced from his wife for cause, with no +profession left him, no business, not much money--a man in the prime of +life and hope and ambition, clean in thought and deed; an upright, just, +generous, sensitive man, whose whole career has been blasted because he +was too merciful, too generous to throw the blame where it belonged. And +it belongs on the shoulders of that Mrs. Jack Ruthven--Alixe +Ruthven--whose name you may see in the columns of any paper that +truckles to the sort of society she figures in." + +Austin stood up, thrust his big hands into his pockets, paced the room +for a few moments, and halted before Gerald. + +"If any woman ever played me a dirty trick," he said, "I'd see that the +public made no mistake in placing the blame. I'm that sort"--he +shrugged--"Phil Selwyn isn't; that's the difference--and it may be in +his favour from an ethical and sentimental point of view. All right; let +it go at that. But all I meant you to understand is that he is every +inch a man; and when you have the honour to meet him, keep that fact in +the back of your head, among the few brains with which Providence has +equipped you." + +"Thanks!" said Gerald, colouring up. He cast his cigarette into the +empty fireplace, slid off the edge of the table, and picked up his hat. +Austin eyed him without particular approval. + +"You buy too many clothes," he observed. "That's a new suit, isn't it?" + +"Certainly," said Gerald; "I needed it." + +"Oh! if you can afford it, all right. . . . How's the nimble Mr. +Neergard?" + +"Neergard is flourishing. We put through that Rose Valley deal. I tell +you what, Austin, I wish you could see your way clear to finance one or +two--" + +Austin's frown cut him short. + +"Oh, all right! You know your own business, of course," said the boy, a +little resentfully. "Only as Fane, Harmon & Co. have thought it worth +while--" + +"I don't care what Fane, Harmon think," growled Austin, touching a +button over his desk. His stenographer entered; he nodded a curt +dismissal to Gerald, adding, as the boy reached the door: + +"Your sister expects you to be on hand to-night--and so do we." + +Gerald halted. + +"I'd clean forgotten," he began; "I made another--a rather important +engagement--" + +But Austin was not listening; in fact, he had already begun to dictate +to his demure stenographer, and Gerald stood a moment, hesitating, then +turned on his heel and went away down the resounding marble corridor. + +"They never let me alone," he muttered; "they're always at me--following +me up as though I were a schoolboy. . . . Austin's the worst--never +satisfied. . . . What do I care for all these functions--sitting around +with the younger set and keeping the cradle of conversation rocking? I +won't go to that infernal baby-show!" + +He entered the elevator and shot down to the great rotunda, still +scowling over his grievance. For he had made arrangements to join a +card-party at Julius Neergard's rooms that night, and he had no +intention of foregoing that pleasure just because his sister's first +grown-up dinner-party was fixed for the same date. + +As for this man Selwyn, whom he had never met, he saw no reason why he +should drop business and scuttle uptown in order to welcome him. No +doubt he was a good fellow; no doubt he had behaved very decently in a +matter which, until a few moments before, he had heard little about. He +meant to be civil; he'd look up Selwyn when he had a chance, and ask him +to dine at the club. But this afternoon he couldn't do it; and, as for +the evening, he had made his arrangements, and he had no intention of +disturbing them on Austin's account. + +When he reached his office he picked up the telephone and called up +Gerard's house; but neither his sister nor anybody else was there except +the children and servants, and Captain Selwyn had not yet called. So he +left no message, merely saying that he'd call up again. Which he forgot +to do. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Captain Selwyn was sauntering along Fifth Avenue under the +leafless trees, scanning the houses of the rich and great across the +way; and these new houses of the rich and great stared back at him out +of a thousand casements as polished and expressionless as the monocles +of the mighty. + +And, strolling at leisure in the pleasant winter weather, he came +presently to a street, stretching eastward in all the cold +impressiveness of very new limestone and plate-glass. + +Could this be the street where his sister now lived? + +As usual when perplexed he slowly raised his hand to his moustache; and +his pleasant gray eyes, still slightly blood-shot from the glare of the +tropics, narrowed as he inspected this unfamiliar house. + +The house was a big elaborate limestone affair, evidently new. Winter +sunshine sparkled on lace-hung casement, on glass marquise, and the +burnished bronze foliations of grille and door. + +It was flood-tide along Fifth Avenue; motor, brougham, and victoria +swept by on the glittering current; pretty women glanced out from +limousine and tonneau; young men of his own type, silk-hatted, +frock-coated, the crooks of their walking sticks tucked up under their +left arms, passed on the Park side. + +But the nods of recognition, lifted hats, the mellow warnings of motor +horns, clattering hoofs, the sun flashing on carriage wheels and +polished panels, on liveries, harness, on the satin coats of horses--a +gem like a spark of fire smothered by the sables at a woman's throat, +and the bright indifference of her beauty--all this had long since lost +any meaning for him. For him the pageant passed as the west wind passes +in Samar over the glimmering valley grasses; and he saw it through +sun-dazzled eyes--all this, and the leafless trees beyond against the +sky, and the trees mirrored in a little wintry lake as brown as the +brown of the eyes which were closed to him now forever. + +As he stood there, again he seemed to hear the whistle signal, clear, +distant, rippling across the wind-blown grasses where the brown +constabulary lay firing in the sunshine; but the rifle shots were the +crack of whips, and it was only a fat policeman of the traffic squad +whistling to clear the swarming jungle trails of the great metropolis. + +Again Selwyn turned to the house, hesitating, unreconciled. Every +sun-lit window stared back at him. + +He had not been prepared for so much limestone and marquise magnificence +where there was more renaissance than architecture and more bay-window +than both; but the number was the number of his sister's house; and, as +the street and the avenue corroborated the numbered information, he +mounted the doorstep, rang, and leisurely examined four stiff box-trees +flanking the ornate portal--meagre vegetation compared to what he had +been accustomed to for so many years. + +Nobody came; once or twice he fancied he heard sounds proceeding from +inside the house. He rang again and fumbled for his card case. Somebody +was coming. + +The moment that the door opened he was aware of a distant and curious +uproar--far away echoes of cheering, and the faint barking of dogs. +These seemed to cease as the man in waiting admitted him; but before he +could make an inquiry or produce a card, bedlam itself apparently broke +loose somewhere in the immediate upper landing--noise in its crudest +elemental definition--through which the mortified man at the door +strove to make himself heard: "Beg pardon, sir, it's the children broke +loose an' runnin' wild-like--" + +"The _what_?" + +"Only the children, sir--fox-huntin' the cat, sir--" + +His voice was lost in the yelling dissonance descending crescendo from +floor to floor. Then an avalanche of children and dogs poured down the +hall-stairs in pursuit of a rumpled and bored cat, tumbling with yelps +and cheers and thuds among the thick rugs on the floor. + +Here the cat turned and soundly cuffed a pair of fat beagle puppies, who +shrieked and fled, burrowing for safety into the yelling heap of +children and dogs on the floor. Above this heap legs, arms, and the +tails of dogs waved wildly for a moment, then a small boy, blond hair in +disorder, staggered to his knees, and, setting hollowed hand to cheek, +shouted: "Hi! for'rard! Harkaway for'rard! Take him, Rags! Now, Tatters! +After him, Owney! Get on, there, Schnitzel! Worry him, Stinger! +Tally-ho-o!" + +At which encouraging invitation the two fat beagle pups, a waddling +dachshund, a cocker, and an Irish terrier flew at Selwyn's nicely +creased trousers; and the small boy, rising to his feet, became aware of +that astonished gentleman for the first time. + +"Steady, there!" exclaimed Selwyn, bringing his walking stick to a brisk +bayonet defence; "steady, men! Prepare to receive infantry--and doggery, +too!" he added, backing away. "No quarter! Remember the Alamo!" + +The man at the door had been too horrified to speak, but he found his +voice now. + +"Oh, you hush up, Dawson!" said the boy; and to Selwyn he added +tentatively, "Hello!" + +"Hello yourself," replied Selwyn, keeping off the circling pups with the +point of his stick. "What is this, anyway--a Walpurgis hunt?--or Eliza +and the bloodhounds?" + +Several children, disentangling themselves from the heap, rose to +confront the visitor; the shocked man, Dawson, attempted to speak again, +but Selwyn's raised hand quieted him. + +The small boy with the blond hair stepped forward and dragged several +dogs from the vicinity of Selwyn's shins. + +"This is the Shallowbrook hunt," he explained; "I am Master of Hounds; +my sister Drina, there, is one of the whips. Part of the game is to all +fall down together and pretend we've come croppers. You see, don't you?" + +"I see," nodded Selwyn; "it's a pretty stiff hunting country, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is. There's wire, you know," volunteered the girl, Drina, +rubbing the bruises on her plump shins. + +"Exactly," agreed Selwyn; "bad thing, wire. Your whips should warn you." + +The big black cat, horribly bored by the proceedings, had settled down +on a hall seat, keeping one disdainful yellow eye on the dogs. + +"All the same, we had a pretty good run," said Drina, taking the cat +into her arms and seating herself on the cushions; "didn't we, Kit-Ki?" +And, turning to Selwyn, "Kit-Ki makes a pretty good fox--only she isn't +enough afraid of us to run away very fast. Won't you sit down? Our +mother is not at home, but we are." + +"Would you really like to have me stay?" asked Selwyn. + +"Well," admitted Drina frankly, "of course we can't tell yet how +interesting you are because we don't know you. We are trying to be +polite--" and, in a fierce whisper, turning on the smaller of the +boys--"Winthrop! take your finger out of your mouth and stop staring at +guests! Billy, you make him behave himself." + +The blond-haired M.F.H. reached for his younger brother; the infant +culprit avoided him and sullenly withdrew the sucked finger but not his +fascinated gaze. + +"I want to know who he ith," he lisped in a loud aside. + +"So do I," admitted a tiny maid in stickout skirts. + +Drina dropped the cat, swept the curly hair from her eyes, and stood up +very straight in her kilts and bare knees. + +"They don't really mean to be rude," she explained; "they're only +children." Then, detecting the glimmering smile in Selwyn's eyes, "But +perhaps you wouldn't mind telling us who you are because we all would +like to know, but we are not going to be ill-bred enough to ask." + +Their direct expectant gaze slightly embarrassed him; he laughed a +little, but there was no response from them. + +"Well," he said, "as a matter of fact and record, I am a sort of +relative of yours--a species of avuncular relation." + +"What is that?" asked Drina coldly. + +"That," said Selwyn, "means that I'm more or less of an uncle to you. +Hope you don't mind. You don't have to entertain me, you know." + +"An uncle!" repeated Drina. + +"Our uncle?" echoed Billy. "You are not our soldier uncle, are you? You +are not our Uncle Philip, are you?" + +"It amounts to that," admitted Selwyn. "Is it all right?" + +There was a dead silence, broken abruptly by Billy; "Where is your +sword, then?" + +"At the hotel. Would you like to see it, Billy?" + +The five children drew a step nearer, inspecting him with merciless +candour. + +"Is it all right?" asked Selwyn again, smilingly uneasy under the +concentrated scrutiny. "How about it, Drina? Shall we shake hands?" + +Drina spoke at last: "Ye-es," she said slowly, "I think it is all right +to shake hands." She took a step forward, stretching out her hand. + +Selwyn stooped; she laid her right hand across his, hesitated, looked up +fearlessly, and then, raising herself on tiptoe, placed both arms upon +his shoulders, offering her lips. + +One by one the other children came forward to greet this promising new +uncle whom the younger among them had never before seen, and whom Drina, +the oldest, had forgotten except as that fabled warrior of legendary +exploits whose name and fame had become cherished classics of their +nursery. + +And now children and dogs clustered amicably around him; under foot +tails wagged, noses sniffed; playful puppy teeth tweaked at his +coat-skirts; and in front and at either hand eager flushed little faces +were upturned to his, shy hands sought his and nestled confidently into +the hollow of his palms or took firm proprietary hold of sleeve and +coat. + +"I infer," observed Selwyn blandly, "that your father and mother are not +at home. Perhaps I'd better stop in later." + +"But you are going to stay here, aren't you?" exclaimed Drina in dismay. +"Don't you expect to tell us stories? Don't you expect to stay here and +live with us and put on your uniform for us and show us your swords and +pistols? _Don't_ you?" + +"We have waited such a very long time for you to do this," added Billy. + +"If you'll come up to the nursery we'll have a drag-hunt for you," +pleaded Drina. "Everybody is out of the house and we can make as much +noise as we please! Will you?" + +"Haven't you any governesses or nurses or something?" asked Selwyn, +finding himself already on the stairway, and still being dragged upward. + +"Our governess is away," said Billy triumphantly, "and our nurses can do +nothing with us." + +"I don't doubt it," murmured Selwyn; "but where are they?" + +"Somebody must have locked them in the schoolroom," observed Billy +carelessly. "Come on, Uncle Philip; we'll have a first-class drag-hunt +before we unlock the schoolroom and let them out." + +"Anyway, they can brew tea there if they are lonely," added Drina, +ushering Selwyn into the big sunny nursery, where he stood, irresolute, +looking about him, aware that he was conniving at open mutiny. From +somewhere on the floor above persistent hammering and muffled appeals +satisfied him as to the location and indignation of the schoolroom +prisoners. + +"You ought to let them out," he said. "You'll surely be punished." + +"We will let them out after we've made noise enough," said Billy calmly. +"We'll probably be punished anyway, so we may as well make a noise." + +"Yes," added Drina, "we are going to make all the noise we can while we +have the opportunity. Billy, is everything ready?" + +And before Selwyn understood precisely what was happening, he found +himself the centre of a circle of madly racing children and dogs. Round +and round him they tore. Billy yelled for the hurdles and Josephine +knocked over some chairs and dragged them across the course of the +route; and over them leaped and scrambled children and puppies, +splitting the air with that same quality of din which had greeted him +upon his entrance to his sister's house. + +When there was no more breath left in the children, and when the dogs +lay about, grinning and lolling, Drina approached him, bland and +dishevelled. + +"That circus," she explained, "was for your entertainment. Now will you +please do something for ours?" + +"Certainly," said Selwyn, looking about him vaguely; "shall +we--er--build blocks, or shall I read to you--er--out of that big +picture-book--" + +"_Picture_-book!" repeated Billy with scorn; "that's good enough for +nurses to read. You're a soldier, you know. Soldiers have real stories +to tell." + +"I see," he said meekly. "What am I to tell you about--our missionaries +in Sulu?" + +"In the first place," began Drina, "you are to lie down flat on the +floor and creep about and show us how the Moros wriggle through the +grass to bolo our sentinels." + +"Why, it's--it's this way," began Selwyn, leaning back in his +rocking-chair and comfortably crossing one knee over the other; "for +instance, suppose--" + +"Oh, but you must _show_ us!" interrupted Billy. "Get down on the floor +please, uncle." + +"I can tell it better!" protested Selwyn; "I can show you just the--" + +"Please lie down and show us how they wriggle?" begged Drina. + +"I don't want to get down on the floor," he said feebly; "is it +necessary?" + +But they had already discovered that he could be bullied, and they had +it their own way; and presently Selwyn lay prone upon the nursery floor, +impersonating a ladrone while pleasant shivers chased themselves over +Drina, whom he was stalking. + +And it was while all were passionately intent upon the pleasing and +snake-like progress of their uncle that a young girl in furs, ascending +the stairs two at a time, peeped perfunctorily into the nursery as she +passed the hallway--and halted amazed. + +Selwyn, sitting up rumpled and cross-legged on the floor, after having +boloed Drina to everybody's exquisite satisfaction, looked around at the +sudden rustle of skirts to catch a glimpse of a vanishing figure--a +glimmer of ruddy hair and the white curve of a youthful face, +half-buried in a muff. + +Mortified, he got to his feet, glanced out into the hallway, and began +adjusting his attire. + +"No, you don't!" he said mildly, "I decline to perform again. If you +want any more wriggling you must accomplish it yourselves. Drina, has +your governess--by any unfortunate chance--er--red hair?" + +"No," said the child; "and won't you _please_ crawl across the floor and +bolo me--just _once_ more?" + +"Bolo me!" insisted Billy. "I haven't been mangled yet!" + +"Let Billy assassinate somebody himself. And, by the way, Drina, are +there any maids or nurses or servants in this remarkable house who +occasionally wear copper-tinted hair and black fox furs?" + +"No. Eileen does. Won't you please wriggle--" + +"Who is Eileen?" + +"Eileen? Why--don't you know who Eileen is?" + +"No, I don't," began Captain Selwyn, when a delighted shout from the +children swung him toward the door again. His sister, Mrs. Gerard, stood +there in carriage gown and sables, radiant with surprise. + +"Phil! _You!_ Exactly like you, Philip, to come strolling in from the +antipodes--dear fellow!" recovering from the fraternal embrace and +holding both lapels of his coat in her gloved hands. "Six years!" she +said again and again, tenderly reproachful; "Alexandrine was a baby of +six--Drina, child, do you remember my brother--do you remember your +Uncle Philip? She doesn't remember; you can't expect her to recollect; +she is only twelve, Phil--" + +"I remember _one_ thing," observed Drina serenely. + +Brother and sister turned toward her in pride and delight; and the child +went on: "My Aunt Alixe; I remember her. She was _so_ pretty," concluded +Drina, nodding thoughtfully in the effort to remember more; "Uncle +Philip, where is she now?" + +But her uncle seemed to have lost his voice as well as his colour, and +Mrs. Gerard's gloved fingers tightened on the lapels of his coat. + +"Drina--child--" she faltered; but Drina, immersed in reflection, smiled +dreamily; "So pretty," she murmured; "I remember my Aunt Alixe--" + +"Drina!" repeated her mother sharply, "go and find Bridget this minute!" + +Selwyn's hesitating hand sought his moustache; he lifted his eyes--the +steady gray eyes, slightly bloodshot--to his sister's distressed face. + +"I never dreamed--" she began--"the child has never spoken of--of her +from that time to this! I never dreamed she could remember--" + +"I don't understand what you are talking about, mother," said Drina; but +her pretty mother caught her by the shoulders, striving to speak +lightly; "Where in the world is Bridget, child? Where is Katie? And what +is all this I hear from Dawson? It can't be possible that you have been +fox-hunting all over the house again! Your nurses know perfectly well +that you are not to hunt anywhere except in your own nursery." + +"I know it," said Drina, "but Kit-Ki got out and ran downstairs. We had +to follow her, you know, until she went to earth." + +Selwyn quietly bent over toward Billy: "'Ware wire, my friend," he said +under his breath; "_you'd_ better cut upstairs and unlock that +schoolroom." + +And while Mrs. Gerard turned her attention to the cluster of clamouring +younger children, the boy vanished only to reappear a moment later, +retreating before the vengeful exclamations of the lately imprisoned +nurses who pursued him, caps and aprons flying, bewailing aloud their +ignominious incarceration. + +"Billy!" exclaimed his mother, "_did_ you do that? Bridget, Master +William is to take supper by himself in the schoolroom--and _no_ +marmalade!--No, Billy, not one drop!" + +"We all saw him lock the door," said Drina honestly. + +"And you let him? Oh, Drina!--And Ellen! Katie! No marmalade for Miss +Drina--none for any of the children. Josie, mother feels dreadfully +because you all have been so naughty. Winthrop!--your finger! Instantly! +Clemence, baby, where on earth did you acquire all that grime on your +face and fists?" And to her brother: "Such a household, Phil! Everybody +incompetent--including me; everything topsy-turvy; and all five dogs +perfectly possessed to lie on that pink rug in the music room.--_Have_ +they been there to-day, Drina?--while you were practising?" + +"Yes, and there are some new spots, mother. I'm _very_ sorry." + +"Take the children away!" said Mrs. Gerard. But she bent over, kissing +each culprit as the file passed out, convoyed by the amply revenged +nurses. "No marmalade, remember; and mother has a great mind _not_ to +come up at bedtime and lean over you. Mother has no desire to lean over +her babies to-night." + +To "lean over" the children was always expected of this mother; the +direst punishment on the rather brief list was to omit this intimate +evening ceremony. + +"M-mother," stammered the Master of Fox Hounds, "you _will_ lean over +us, won't you?" + +"Mother hasn't decided--" + +"Oh, muvver!" wailed Josie; and a howl of grief and dismay rose from +Winthrop, modified to a gurgle by the forbidden finger. + +"You _will_, won't you?" begged Drina. "We've been pretty bad, but not +bad enough for that!" + +"I--Oh, yes, I will. Stop that noise, Winthrop! Josie, I'm going to lean +over you--and you, too, Clemence, baby. Katie, take those dogs away +immediately; and remember about the marmalade." + +Reassured, smiling through tears, the children trooped off, it being the +bathing hour; and Mrs. Gerard threw her fur stole over one shoulder and +linked her slender arm in her brother's. + +"You see, I'm not much of a mother," she said; "if I was I'd stay here +all day and every day, week in and year out, and try to make these poor +infants happy. I have no business to leave them for one second!" + +"Wouldn't they get too much of you?" suggested Selwyn. + +"Thanks. I suppose that even a mother had better practise an artistic +absence occasionally. Are they not sweet? _What_ do you think of them? +You never before saw the three youngest; you saw Drina when you went +east--and Billy was a few months old--what do you think of them? +Honestly, Phil?" + +"All to the good, Ninette; very ornamental. Drina--and that Josephine +kid are real beauties. I--er--take to Billy tremendously. He told me +that he'd locked up his nurses. I ought to have interfered. It was +really my fault, you see." + +"And you didn't make him let them out? You are not going to be very good +morally for my young. Tell me, Phil, have you seen Austin?" + +"I went to the Trust Company, but he was attending a directors' confab. +How is he? He's prosperous anyhow, I observe," with a humorous glance +around the elaborate hallway which they were traversing. + +"Don't dare laugh at us!" smiled his sister. "I wish we were back in +Tenth Street. But so many children came--Billy, Josephine, Winthrop, and +Tina--and the Tenth Street house wasn't half big enough; and a dreadful +speculative builder built this house and persuaded Austin to buy it. Oh, +dear, and here we are among the rich and great; and the steel kings and +copper kings and oil kings and their heirs and dauphins. _Do_ you like +the house?" + +"It's--ah--roomy," he said cheerfully. + +"Oh! It isn't so bad from the outside. And we have just had it +redecorated inside. Mizner did it. Look, dear, isn't that a cunning +bedroom?" drawing him toward a partly open door. "Don't be so horridly +critical. Austin is becoming used to it now, so don't stir him up and +make fun of things. Anyway you're going to stay here." + +"No, I'm at the Holland." + +"Of _course_ you're to live with us. You've resigned from the service, +haven't you?" + +He looked at her sharply, but did not reply. + +A curious flash of telepathy passed between them; she hesitated, then: + +"You once promised Austin and me that you would stay with us." + +"But, Nina--" + +"No, no, no! Wait," pressing an electric button; "Watson, Captain +Selwyn's luggage is to be brought here immediately from the Holland! +Immediately!" And to Selwyn: "Austin will not be at home before +half-past six. Come up with me now and see your quarters--a perfectly +charming place for you, with your own smoking-room and dressing-closet +and bath. Wait, we'll take the elevator--as long as we have one." + +Smilingly protesting, yet touched by the undisguised sincerity of his +welcome, he suffered himself to be led into the elevator--a dainty white +and rose rococo affair. His sister adjusted a tiny lever; the car moved +smoothly upward and, presently stopped; and they emerged upon a wide +landing. + +"Here," said Nina, throwing open a door. "Isn't this comfortable? Is +there anything you don't fancy about it? If there is, tell me frankly." + +"Little sister," he said, imprisoning both her hands, "it is a +paradise--but I don't intend to come here and squat on my relatives, and +I won't!" + +"Philip! You are common!" + +"Oh, I know you and Austin _think_ you want me." + +"Phil!" + +"All right, dear. I'll--it's awfully generous of you--so I'll pay you a +visit--for a little while." + +"You'll live here, that's what you'll do--though I suppose you are +dreaming and scheming to have all sorts of secret caves and queer places +to yourself--horrid, grimy, smoky bachelor quarters where you can behave +_sans-facon_." + +"I've had enough of _sans-facon_" he said grimly. "After shacks and +bungalows and gun-boats and troopships, do you suppose this doesn't look +rather heavenly?" + +"Dear fellow!" she said, looking tenderly at him; and then under her +breath: "What a ghastly life you have led!" + +But he knew she did not refer to the military portion of his life. + +He threw back his coat, dug both hands into his pockets, and began to +wander about the rooms, halting sometimes to examine nondescript +articles of ornament or bits of furniture as though politely +interested. But she knew his thoughts were steadily elsewhere. + +[Illustration: "'There is no reason,' she said, 'why you should not call +this house home.'"] + +Sauntering about, aware at moments that her troubled eyes were following +him, he came back, presently, to where she sat perched upon his bed. + +"It all looks most inviting, Nina," he said cheerfully, seating himself +beside her. "I--well, you can scarcely be expected to understand how +this idea of a home takes hold of a man who has none." + +"Yes, I do," she said. + +"All this--" he paused, leisurely, to select his words--"all +this--you--the children--that jolly nursery--" he stopped again, looking +out of the window; and his sister looked at him through eyes grown +misty. + +"There is no reason," she said, "why you should not call this house +home." + +"N-no reason. Thank you. I will--for a few days." + +"_No_ reason, dear," she insisted. "We are your own people; we are all +you have, Phil!--the children adore you already; Austin--you know what +he thinks of you; and--and I--" + +"You are very kind, Ninette." He sat partly turned from her, staring at +the sunny window. Presently he slid his hand back along the bed-covers +until it touched and tightened over hers. And in silence she raised it +to her lips. + +They remained so for a while, he still partly turned from her, his +perplexed and narrowing gaze fixed on the window, she pressing his +clenched hand to her lips, thoughtful and silent. + +"Before Austin comes," he said at length, "let's get the thing over--and +buried--as long as it will stay buried." + +"Yes, dear." + +"Well, then--then--" but his throat closed tight with the effort. + +"Alixe is here," she said gently; "did you know it?" + +He nodded. + +"You know, of course, that she's married Jack Ruthven?" + +He nodded again. + +"Are you on leave, Phil, or have you really resigned?" + +"Resigned." + +"I knew it," she sighed. + +He said: "As I did not defend the suit I couldn't remain in the service. +There's too much said about us, anyway--about us who are appointed from +civil life. And then--to have _that_ happen!" + +"Phil?" + +"What?" + +"Will you answer me one thing?" + +"Yes, I guess so." + +"Do you still care for--her?" + +"I am sorry for her." + +After a painful silence his sister said: "Could you tell me how it +began, Phil?" + +"How it began? I don't know that, either. When Bannard's command took +the field I went with the scouts. Alixe remained in Manila. Ruthven was +there for Fane, Harmon & Co. That's how it began, I suppose; and it's a +rotten climate for morals; and that's how it began." + +"Only that?" + +"We had had differences. It's been one misunderstanding after another. +If you mean was I mixed up with another woman--no! She knew that." + +"She was very young, Phil." + +He nodded: "I don't blame her." + +"Couldn't anything have been done?" + +"If it could, neither she nor I did it--or knew how to do it, I suppose. +It went wrong from the beginning; it was founded on froth--she had been +engaged to Harmon, and she threw him over for 'Boots' Lansing. Then I +came along--Boots behaved like a thoroughbred--that is all there is to +it--inexperience, romance, trouble--a quick beginning, a quick parting, +and two more fools to give the lie to civilization, and justify the West +Pointers in their opinions of civil appointees." + +"Try not to be so bitter, Phil; did you know she was going before she +left Manila?" + +"I hadn't the remotest idea of the affair. I thought that we were trying +to learn something about life and about each other. . . . Then that +climax came." + +He turned and stared out of the window, dropping his sister's hand. "She +couldn't stand me, she couldn't stand the life, the climate, the +inconveniences, the absence of what she was accustomed to. She was dead +tired of it all. I can understand that. And I--I didn't know what to do +about it. . . . So we drifted; and the catastrophe came very quickly. +Let me tell you something; a West Pointer, an Annapolis man, knows what +sort of life he's going into and what he is to expect when he marries. +Usually, too, he marries into the Army or Navy set; and the girl knows, +too, what kind of a married life that means. + +"But I didn't. Neither did Alixe. And we went under; that's +all--fighting each other heart and soul to the end. . . . Is she happy +with Ruthven? I never knew him--and never cared to. I suppose they go +about in town among the yellow set. Do they?" + +"Yes. I've met Alixe once or twice. She was perfectly composed--formal +but unembarrassed. She has shifted her milieu somewhat--it began with +the influx of Ruthven's friends from the 'yellow' section of the younger +married set--the Orchils, Fanes, Minsters, and Delmour-Carnes. Which is +all right if she'd stay there. But in town you're likely to encounter +anybody where the somebodies of one set merge into the somebodies of +another. And we're always looking over our fences, you know. . . . By +the way," she added cheerfully, "I'm dipping into the younger set myself +to-night--on Eileen's account. I brought her out Thursday and I'm giving +a dinner for her to-night." + +"Who's Eileen?" he asked. + +"Eileen? Why, don't you--why, of _course_, you don't know yet that I've +taken Eileen for my own. I didn't want to write you; I wanted first to +see how it would turn out; and when I saw that it was turning out +perfectly, I thought it better to wait until you could return and hear +all about it from me, because one can't write that sort of thing--" + +"Nina!" + +"What, dear?" she said, startled. + +"Who the dickens _is_ Eileen?" + +"Philip! You are precisely like Austin; you grow impatient of +preliminary details when I'm doing my very best attempting to explain +just as clearly as I can. Now I will go on and say that Eileen is Molly +Erroll's daughter, and the courts appointed Austin and me guardians for +her and for her brother Gerald." + +"Oh!" + +"Now is it clear to you?" + +"Yes," he said, thinking of the tragedy which had left the child so +utterly alone in the world, save for her brother and a distant kinship +by marriage with the Gerards. + +For a while he sat brooding, arms loosely folded, immersed once more in +his own troubles. + +"It seems a shame," he said, "that a family like ours, whose name has +always spelled decency, should find themselves entangled in the very +things their race has always hated and managed to avoid. And through me, +too." + +"It was not your fault, Phil." + +"No, not the divorce part. Do you suppose I wouldn't have taken any kind +of medicine before resorting to that! But what's the use; for you can +try as you may to keep your name clean, and then you can fold your arms +and wait to see what a hopeless fool fate makes of you." + +"But no disgrace touches you, dear," she said tremulously. + +"I've been all over that, too," he said with quiet bitterness. "You are +partly right; nobody cares in this town. Even though I did not defend +the suit, nobody cares. And there's no disgrace, I suppose, if nobody +cares enough even to condone. Divorce is no longer noticed; it is a +matter of ordinary occurrence--a matter of routine in some sets. Who +cares?--except decent folk? And they only think it's a pity--and +wouldn't do it themselves. The horrified clamour comes from outside the +social registers and blue books; we know they're right, but it doesn't +affect us. What does affect us is that we _were_ the decent folk who +permitted ourselves the luxury of being sorry for others who resorted to +divorce as a remedy but wouldn't do it ourselves! . . . Now we've done +it and--" + +"Phil! I will not have you feel that way." + +"What way?" + +"The way you feel. We are older than we were--everybody is older--the +world is, too. What we were brought up to consider impossible--" + +"What we were brought up to consider impossible was what kept me up to +the mark out there, Nina." He made a gesture toward the East. "Now, I +come back here and learn that we've all outgrown those ideas--" + +"Phil! I never meant that." + +He said: "If Alixe found that she cared for Ruthven, I don't blame her. +Laws and statutes can't govern such matters. If she found she no longer +cared for me, I could not blame her. But two people, mismated, have only +one chance in this world--to live their tragedy through with dignity. +That is absolutely all life holds for them. Beyond that, outside of that +dead line--treachery to self and race and civilisation! That is my +conclusion after a year's experience in hell." He rose and began to pace +the floor, fingers worrying his moustache. "Law? Can a law, which I do +not accept, let me loose to risk it all again with another woman?" + +She said slowly, her hands folded in her lap: "It is well you've come to +me at last. You've been turning round and round in that wheeled cage +until you think you've made enormous progress; and you haven't. Dear, +listen to me; what you honestly believe to be unselfish and high-minded +adherence to principle, is nothing but the circling reasoning of a hurt +mind--an intelligence still numbed from shock, a mental and physical +life forced by sheer courage into mechanical routine. . . . Wait a +moment; there is nobody else to say this to you; and if I did not love +you I would not interfere with this great mistake you are so honestly +making of your life, and which, perhaps, is the only comfort left you. I +say, 'perhaps,' for I do not believe that life holds nothing happier for +you than the sullen content of martyrdom." + +"Nina!" + +"I am right!" she said, almost fiercely; "I've been married thirteen +years and I've lost that fear of men's portentous judgments which all +girls outgrow one day. And do you think I am going to acquiesce in this +attitude of yours toward life? Do you think I can't distinguish between +a tragical mistake and a mistaken tragedy? I tell you your life is not +finished; it is not yet begun!" + +He looked at her, incensed; but she sprang to the floor, her face bright +with colour, her eyes clear, determined: "I thought, when you took the +oath of military service, you swore to obey the laws of the land? And +the very first law that interferes with your preconceived +notions--crack!--you say it's not for you! Look at me--you great, big, +wise brother of mine--who knows enough to march a hundred and three men +into battle, but not enough to know where pride begins and conscience +ends. You're badly hurt; you are deeply humiliated over your +resignation; you believe that ambition for a career, for happiness, for +marriage, and for children is ended for you. You need fresh air--and I'm +going to see you have it. You need new duties, new faces, new scenes, +new problems. You shall have them. Dear, believe me, few men as young as +you--as attractive, as human, as lovable, as affectionate as you, +wilfully ruin their lives because of a hurt pride which they mistake for +conscience. You will understand that when you become convalescent. Now +kiss me and tell me you're much obliged--for I hear Austin's voice on +the stairs." + +He held her at arms' length, gazing at her, half amused, half indignant; +then, unbidden, a second flash of the old telepathy passed between +them--a pale glimmer lighted his own dark heart in sympathy; and for a +moment he seemed to have a brief glimpse of the truth; and the truth was +not as he had imagined it. But it was a glimpse only--a fleeting +suspicion of his own fallibility; then it vanished into the old, dull, +aching, obstinate humiliation. For truth would not be truth if it were +so easily discovered. + +"Well, we've buried it now," breathed Selwyn. "You're all right, +Nina--from your own standpoint--and I'm not going to make a stalking +nuisance of myself; no fear, little sister. Hello!"--turning +swiftly--"here's that preposterous husband of yours." + +They exchanged a firm hand clasp; Austin Gerard, big, smooth shaven, +humorously inclined toward the ruddy heaviness of successful middle age; +Selwyn, lean, bronzed, erect, and direct in all the powerful symmetry +and perfect health of a man within sight of maturity. + +"Hail to the chief--et cetera," said Austin, in his large, bantering +voice. "Glad to see you home, my bolo-punctured soldier boy. Welcome to +our city! I suppose you've both pockets stuffed with loot, now haven't +you?--pearls and sarongs and dattos--yes? Have you inspected the kids? +What's your opinion of the Gerard batallion? Pretty fit? Nina's +commanding, so it's up to her if we don't pass dress parade. By the +way, your enormous luggage is here--consisting of one dinky trunk and a +sword done up in chamois skin." + +"Nina's good enough to want me for a few days--" began Selwyn, but his +big brother-in-law laughed scornfully: + +"A few days! We've got you now!" And to his wife: "Nina, I suppose I'm +due to lean over those infernal kids before I can have a minute with +your brother. Are they in bed yet? All right, Phil; we'll be down in a +minute; there's tea and things in the library. Make Eileen give you +some." + +He turned, unaffectedly taking his pretty wife's hand in his large +florid paw, and Selwyn, intensely amused, saw them making for the +nursery absorbed in conjugal confab. He lingered to watch them go their +way, until they disappeared; and he stood a moment longer alone there in +the hallway; then the humour faded from his sun-burnt face; he swung +wearily on his heel, and descended the stairway, his hand heavy on the +velvet rail. + +The library was large and comfortable, full of agreeably wadded corners +and fat, helpless chairs--a big, inviting place, solidly satisfying in +dull reds and mahogany. The porcelain of tea paraphernalia caught the +glow of the fire; a reading lamp burned on a centre table, shedding +subdued lustre over ceiling, walls, books, and over the floor where lay +a few ancient rugs of Beloochistan, themselves full of mysterious, +sombre fire. + +Hands clasped behind his back, he stood in the centre of the room, +considering his environment with the grave, absent air habitual to him +when brooding. And, as he stood there, a sound at the door aroused him, +and he turned to confront a young girl in hat, veil, and furs, who was +leisurely advancing toward him, stripping the gloves from a pair of very +white hands. + +"How do you do, Captain Selwyn," she said. "I am Eileen Erroll and I am +commissioned to give you some tea. Nina and Austin are in the nursery +telling bedtime stories and hearing assorted prayers. The children seem +to be quite crazy about you--" She unfastened her veil, threw back stole +and coat, and, rolling up her gloves on her wrists, seated herself by +the table. "--_Quite_ crazy about you," she continued, "and you're to be +included in bedtime prayers, I believe--No sugar? Lemon?--Drina's mad +about you and threatens to give you her new maltese puppy. I +congratulate you on your popularity." + +"Did you see me in the nursery on all fours?" inquired Selwyn, +recognising her bronze-red hair. + +Unfeigned laughter was his answer. He laughed, too, not very heartily. + +"My first glimpse of our legendary nursery warrior was certainly +astonishing," she said, looking around at him with frank malice. Then, +quickly: "But you don't mind, do you? It's all in the family, of +course." + +"Of course," he agreed with good grace; "no use to pretend dignity here; +you all see through me in a few moments." + +She had given him his tea. Now she sat upright in her chair, smiling, +_distraite_, her hat casting a luminous shadow across her eyes; the +fluffy furs, fallen from throat and shoulder, settled loosely around her +waist. + +Glancing up from her short reverie she encountered his curious gaze. + +"To-night is to be my first dinner dance, you know," she said. Faint +tints of excitement stained her white skin; the vivid scarlet contrast +of her mouth was almost startling. "On Thursday I was introduced--" she +explained, "and now I'm to have the gayest winter I ever dreamed +of. . . . And I'm going to leave you in a moment if Nina doesn't hurry +and come. Do you mind?" + +"Of course I mind," he protested amiably, "but I suppose you wish to +devote several hours to dressing." + +She nodded. "Such a dream of a gown! Nina's present! You'll see it. I +hope Gerald will be here to see it. He promised. You'll say you like it +if you do like it, won't you?" + +"I'll say it, anyway." + +"Oh, well--if you are contented to be commonplace like other men--" + +"I've no ambition to be different at my age." + +"Your age?" she repeated, looking up quickly. "You are as young as Nina, +aren't you? Half the men in the younger set are no younger than you--and +you know it," she concluded--"you are only trying to make me say so--and +you've succeeded. I'm not very experienced yet. Does tea bring wisdom, +Captain Selwyn?" pouring herself a cup. "I'd better arm myself +immediately." She sank back into the depths of the chair, looking gaily +at him over her lifted cup. "To my rapid education in worldly wisdom!" +She nodded, and sipped the tea almost pensively. + +He certainly did seem young there in the firelight, his narrow, +thoroughbred head turned toward the fire. Youth, too, sat lightly on his +shoulders; and it was scarcely a noticeably mature hand that touched the +short sun-burnt moustache at intervals. From head to waist, from his +loosely coupled, well-made limbs to his strong, slim foot, strength +seemed to be the keynote to a physical harmony most agreeable to look +at. + +The idea entered her head that he might appear to advantage on +horseback. + +"We must ride together," she said, returning her teacup to the tray; "if +you don't mind riding with me? Do you? Gerald never has time, so I go +with a groom. But if you would care to go--" she laughed. "Oh, you see I +am already beginning a selfish family claim on you. I foresee that +you'll be very busy with us all persistently tugging at your +coat-sleeves; and what with being civil to me and a martyr to Drina, +you'll have very little time to yourself. And--I hope you'll like my +brother Gerald when you meet him. Now I _must_ go." + +Then, rising and partly turning to collect her furs: + +"It's quite exciting to have you here. We will be good friends, won't +we? . . . and I think I had better stop my chatter and go, because my +cunning little Alsatian maid is not very clever yet. . . . Good-bye." + +She stretched out one of her amazingly white hands across the table, +giving him a friendly leave-taking and welcome all in one frank +handshake; and left him standing there, the fresh contact still cool in +his palm. + +Nina came in presently to find him seated before the fire, one hand +shading his eyes; and, as he prepared to rise, she rested both arms on +his shoulders, forcing him into his chair again. + +"So you've bewitched Eileen, too, have you?" she said tenderly. "Isn't +she the sweetest little thing?" + +"She's--ah--as tall as I am," he said, blinking at the fire. + +"She's only nineteen; pathetically unspoiled--a perfect dear. Men are +going to rave over her and--_not_ spoil her. Did you ever see such +hair?--that thick, ruddy, lustrous, copper tint?--and sometimes it's +like gold afire. And a skin like snow and peaches!--she's sound to the +core. I've had her exercised and groomed and hardened and trained from +the very beginning--every inch of her minutely cared for exactly like my +own babies. I've done my best," she concluded with a satisfied sigh, and +dropped into a chair beside her brother. + +"Thoroughbred," commented Selwyn, "to be turned out to-night. Is she +bridle-wise and intelligent?" + +"More than sufficiently. That's one trouble--she's had, at times, a +depressing, sponge-like desire for absorbing all sorts of irrelevant +things that no girl ought to concern herself with. I--to tell the +truth--if I had not rigorously drilled her--she might have become a +trifle tiresome; I don't mean precisely frumpy--but one of those earnest +young things whose intellectual conversation becomes a visitation--one +of the wants-to-know-for-the-sake-of-knowledge sort--a dreadful human +blotter! Oh, dear; show me a girl with her mind soaking up 'isms' and +I'll show you a social failure with a wisp of hair on her cheek, who +looks the dowdier the more expensively she's gowned." + +"So you believe you've got that wisp of copper-tinted hair tucked up +snugly?" asked Selwyn, amused. + +"I--it's still a worry to me; at intervals she's inclined to let it +slop. Thank Heaven, I've made her spine permanently straight and her +head is screwed properly to her neck. There's not a slump to her from +crown to heel--_I_ know, you know. She's had specialists to forestall +every blemish. I made up my mind to do it; I'm doing it for my own +babies. That's what a mother is for--to turn out her offspring to the +world as flawless and wholesome as when they came into it!--physically +and mentally sound--or a woman betrays her stewardship. They must be as +healthy of body and limb as they are innocent and wholesome minded. The +happiest of all creatures are drilled thoroughbreds. Show me a young +girl, unspoiled mentally and spiritually untroubled, with a superb +physique, and I'll show you a girl equipped for the happiness of this +world. And that is what Eileen is." + +"I should say," observed Selwyn, "that she's equipped for the slaughter +of man." + +"Yes, but _I_ am selecting the victim," replied his sister demurely. + +"Oh! Have you? Already?" + +"Tentatively." + +"Who?" + +"Sudbury Gray, I think--with Scott Innis for an understudy--perhaps the +Draymore man as alternate--I don't know; there's time." + +"Plenty," he said vaguely, staring into the fire where a log had +collapsed into incandescent ashes. + +She continued to talk about Eileen until she noticed that his mind was +on other matters--his preoccupied stare enlightened her. She said +nothing for a while. + +But he woke up when Austin came in and settled his big body in a chair. + +"Drina, the little minx, called me back on some flimsy pretext," he +said, relighting his cigar; "I forgot that time was going--and she was +wily enough to keep me talking until Miss Paisely caught me at it and +showed me out. I tell you," turning on Selwyn--"children are what make +life worth wh--" He ceased abruptly at a gentle tap from his wife's +foot, and Selwyn looked up. + +Whether or not he divined the interference he said very quietly: "I'd +rather have had children than anything in the world. They're about the +best there is in life; I agree with you, Austin." + +His sister, watching him askance, was relieved to see his troubled face +become serene, though she divined the effort. + +"Kids are the best," he repeated, smiling at her. "Failing them, for +second choice, I've taken to the laboratory. Some day I'll invent +something and astonish you, Nina." + +"We'll fit you up a corking laboratory," began Austin cordially; "there +is--" + +"You're very good; perhaps you'll all be civil enough to move out of the +house if I need more room for bottles and retorts--" + +"Of _course_, Phil must have his laboratory," insisted Nina. "There's +loads of unused room in this big barn--only you don't mind being at the +top of the house, do you, Phil?" + +"Yes, I do; I want to be in the drawing-room--or somewhere so that you +all may enjoy the odours and get the benefit of premature explosions. +Oh, come now, Austin, if you think I'm going to plant myself here on +you--" + +"Don't notice him, Austin," said Nina, "he only wishes to be implored. +And, by the same token, you'd both better let me implore you to dress!" +She rose and bent forward in the firelight to peer at the clock. +"Goodness! Do you creatures think I'm going to give Eileen half an +hour's start with her maid?--and I carrying my twelve years' handicap, +too. No, indeed! I'm decrepit but I'm going to die fighting. Austin, get +up! You're horribly slow, anyhow. Phil, Austin's man--such as he +is--will be at your disposal, and your luggage is unpacked." + +"Am I really expected to grace this festival of babes?" inquired Selwyn. +"Can't you send me a tray of toast or a bowl of gruel and let me hide my +old bones in a dressing-gown somewhere?" + +"Oh, come on," said Austin, smothering the yawn in his voice and casting +his cigar into the ashes. "You're about ripe for the younger set--one of +them, anyhow. If you can't stand the intellectual strain we'll side-step +the show later and play a little--what do you call it in the +army?--pontoons?" + +They strolled toward the door, Nina's arms linked in theirs, her slim +fingers interlocked on her breast. + +"We are certainly going to be happy--we three--in this innocent _menage +a trois_," she said. "I don't know what more you two men could ask +for--or I, either--or the children or Eileen. Only one thing; I think it +is perfectly horrid of Gerald not to be here." + +Traversing the hall she said: "It always frightens me to be perfectly +happy--and remember all the ghastly things that _could_ happen. . . . +I'm going to take a glance at the children before I dress. . . . Austin, +did you remember your tonic?" + +She looked up surprised when her husband laughed. + +"I've taken my tonic and nobody's kidnapped the kids," he said. She +hesitated, then picking up her skirts she ran upstairs for one more look +at her slumbering progeny. + +The two men glanced at one another; their silence was the tolerant, +amused silence of the wiser sex, posing as such for each other's +benefit; but deep under the surface stirred the tremors of the same +instinctive solicitude that had sent Nina to the nursery. + +"I used to think," said Gerard, "that the more kids you had the less +anxiety per kid. The contrary is true; you're more nervous over half a +dozen than you are over one, and your wife is always going to the +nursery to see that the cat hasn't got in or the place isn't afire or +spots haven't come out all over the children." + +They laughed tolerantly, lingering on the sill of Selwyn's bedroom. + +"Come in and smoke a cigarette," suggested the latter. "I have nothing +to do except to write some letters and dress." + +But Gerard said: "There seems to be a draught through this hallway; I'll +just step upstairs to be sure that the nursery windows are not too wide +open. See you later, Phil. If there's anything you need just dingle that +bell." + +And he went away upstairs, only to return in a few minutes, laughing +under his breath: "I say, Phil, don't you want to see the kids asleep? +Billy's flat on his back with a white 'Teddy bear' in either arm; and +Drina and Josephine are rolled up like two kittens in pajamas; and you +should see Winthrop's legs--" + +"Certainly," said Selwyn gravely, "I'll be with you in a second." + +And turning to his dresser he laid away the letters and the small +photograph which he had been examining under the drop-light, locking +them securely in the worn despatch box until he should have time to +decide whether to burn them all or only the picture. Then he slipped on +his smoking jacket. + +"--Ah, about Winthrop's legs--" he repeated vaguely, "certainly; I +should be very glad to examine them, Austin." + +"I don't want you to examine them," retorted Gerard resentfully, "I want +you to see them. There's nothing the matter with them, you understand." + +"Exactly," nodded Selwyn, following his big brother-in-law into the +hall, where, from beside a lamp-lit sewing table a trim maid rose +smiling: + +"Miss Erroll desires to know whether Captain Selwyn would care to see +her gown when she is ready to go down?" + +"By all means," said Selwyn, "I should like to see that, too. Will you +let me know when Miss Erroll is ready? Thank you." + +Austin said as they reached the nursery door: "Funny thing, feminine +vanity--almost pathetic, isn't it? . . . Don't make too much +noise! . . . What do you think of that pair of legs, Phil?--and he's not +yet five. . . . And I want you to speak frankly; _did_ you ever see +anything to beat that bunch of infants? Not because they're ours and we +happen to be your own people--" he checked himself and the smile faded +as he laid his big ruddy hand on Selwyn's shoulder;--"_your own people_, +Phil. Do you understand? . . . And if I have not ventured to say +anything about--what has happened--you understand that, too, don't you? +You know I'm just as loyal to you as Nina is--as it is natural and +fitting that your own people should be. Only a man finds it difficult to +convey his--his--" + +"Don't say 'sympathies'!" cut in Selwyn nervously. + +"I wasn't going to, confound you! I was going to say 'sentiments.' I'm +sorry I said anything. Go to the deuce!" + +Selwyn did not even deign to glance around at him. "You big red-pepper +box," he muttered affectionately, "you'll wake up Drina. Look at her in +her cunning pajamas! Oh, but she is a darling, Austin. And look at that +boy with his two white bears! He's a corker! He's a wonder--honestly, +Austin. As for that Josephine kid she can have me on demand; I'll answer +to voice, whistle, or hand. . . . I say, ought we to go away and leave +Winthrop's thumb in his mouth?" + +"I guess I can get it out without waking him," whispered Gerard. A +moment later he accomplished the office, leaned down and drew the +bed-covers closer to Tina's dimpled chin, then grasped Selwyn above the +elbow in sudden alarm: "If that trained terror, Miss Paisely, finds us +in here when she comes from dinner, we'll both catch it! Come on; I'll +turn off the light. Anyway, we ought to have been dressed long ago; but +you insisted on butting in here." + +In the hallway below they encountered a radiant and bewildering vision +awaiting them: Eileen, in all her glory. + +"Wonderful!" said Gerard, patting the vision's rounded bare arm as he +hurried past--"fine gown! fine girl!--but I've got to dress and so has +Philip--" He meant well. + +"_Do_ you like it, Captain Selwyn?" asked the girl, turning to confront +him, where he had halted. "Gerald isn't coming and--I thought perhaps +you'd be interested--" + +The formal, half-patronising compliment on his tongue's tip remained +there, unsaid. He stood silent, touched by the faint under-ringing +wistfulness in the laughing voice that challenged his opinion; and +something within him responded in time: + +"Your gown is a beauty; such wonderful lace. Of course, anybody would +know it came straight from Paris or from some other celestial region--" + +"But it didn't!" cried the girl, delighted. "It looks it, doesn't it? +But it was made by Letellier! Is there anything you don't like about it, +Captain Selwyn? _Anything_?" + +"Nothing," he said solemnly; "it is as adorable as the girl inside it, +who makes it look like a Parisian importation from Paradise!" + +She colored enchantingly, and with pretty, frank impulse held out both +her hands to him: + +"You _are_ a dear, Captain Selwyn! It is my first real dinner gown and +I'm quite mad about it; and--somehow I wanted the family to share my +madness with me. Nina will--she gave it to me, the darling. Austin +admires it, too, of course, but he doesn't notice such things very +closely; and Gerald isn't here. . . . Thank you for letting me show it +to you before I go down." + +She gave both his hands a friendly little shake and, glancing down at +her skirt in blissful consciousness of its perfection, stepped backward +into her own room. + +Later, while he stood at his dresser constructing an immaculate knot in +his white tie, Nina knocked. + +"Hurry, Phil! Oh, may I come in? . . . You ought to be downstairs with +us, you know. . . . And it was very sweet of you to be so nice to +Eileen. The child had tears in her eyes when I went in. Oh, just a +single diamond drop in each eye; your sympathy and interest did +it. . . . I think the child misses her father on an occasion such as +this--the beginning of life--the first step out into the world. Men do +not understand what it means to us; Gerald doesn't, I'm sure. I've been +watching her, and I know the shadow of that dreadful tragedy falls on +her more often than Austin and I are aware of. . . . Shall I fix that +tie for you, dear? . . . Certainly I can; Austin won't let a man touch +him. . . . There, Phil. . . . Wait! . . . Now if you are decently +grateful you'll tell me I look well. Do I? Really? Nonsense, I _don't_ +look twenty; but--say it, Phil. Ah, that clever maid of mine knows some +secrets--never mind!--but Drina thinks I'm a beauty. . . . Come, dear; +and thank you for being kind to Eileen. One's own kin counts so much in +this world. And when a girl has none, except a useless brother, little +things like that mean a lot to her." She turned, her hand falling on his +sleeve. "_You_ are among your own people, anyhow!" + + * * * * * + +His own people! The impatient tenderness of his sister's words had been +sounding in his ears all through the evening. They rang out clear and +insistent amid the gay tumult of the dinner; he heard them in the +laughing confusion of youthful voices; they stole into the delicate +undertones of the music to mock him; the rustling of silk and lace +repeated them; the high heels of satin slippers echoed them in irony. + +His own people! + +The scent of overheated flowers, the sudden warm breeze eddying from a +capricious fan, the mourning thrill of the violins emphasised the +emphasis of the words. + +And they sounded sadder and more meaningless now to him, here in his +own room, until the monotony of their recurrent mockery began to unnerve +him. + +He turned on the electricity, shrank from it, extinguished it. And for a +long time he sat there in the darkness of early morning, his unfilled +pipe clutched in his nerveless hand. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A DREAM ENDS + + +To pick up once more and tighten and knot together the loosened threads +which represented the unfinished record that his race had woven into the +social fabric of the metropolis was merely an automatic matter for +Selwyn. + +His own people had always been among the makers of that fabric. Into +part of its vast and intricate pattern they had woven an inconspicuously +honourable record--chronicles of births and deaths and marriages, a +plain memorandum of plain living, and upright dealing with their fellow +men. + +Some public service of modest nature they had performed, not seeking it, +not shirking; accomplishing it cleanly when it was intrusted to them. + +His forefathers had been, as a rule, professional men--physicians and +lawyers; his grandfather died under the walls of Chapultepec Castle +while twisting a tourniquet for a cursing dragoon; an uncle remained +indefinitely at Malvern Hill; an only brother at Montauk Point having +sickened in the trenches before Santiago. + +His father's services as division medical officer in Sheridan's cavalry +had been, perhaps, no more devoted, no more loyal than the services of +thousands of officers and troopers; and his reward was a pension offer, +declined. He practised until his wife died, then retired to his country +home, from which house his daughter Nina was married to Austin Gerard. + +Mr. Selwyn, senior, continued to pay his taxes on his father's house in +Tenth Street, voted in that district, spent a month every year with the +Gerards, read a Republican morning newspaper, and judiciously enlarged +the family reservation in Greenwood--whither he retired, in due time, +without other ostentation than half a column in the _Evening Post_, +which paper he had, in life, avoided. + +The first gun off the Florida Keys sent Selwyn's only brother from his +law office in hot haste to San Antonio--the first _etape_ on his first +and last campaign with Wood's cavalry. + +That same gun interrupted Selwyn's connection with Neergard & Co., +operators in Long Island real estate; and, a year later, the captaincy +offered him in a Western volunteer regiment operating on the Island of +Leyte, completed the rupture. + + * * * * * + +And now he was back again, a chance career ended, with option of picking +up the severed threads--his inheritance at the loom--and of retying +them, warp and weft, and continuing the pattern according to the designs +of the tufted, tinted pile-yarn, knotted in by his ancestors before him. + +There was nothing else to do; so he did it. Civil and certain social +obligations were mechanically reassumed; he appeared in his sister's pew +for worship, he reenrolled in his clubs as a resident member once more; +the directors of such charities as he meddled with he notified of his +return; he remitted his dues to the various museums and municipal or +private organisations which had always expected support from his +family; he subscribed to the _Sun_. + +He was more conservative, however, in mending the purely social strands +so long relaxed or severed. The various registers and blue-books +recorded his residence under "dilatory domiciles"; he did not subscribe +to the opera, preferring to chance it in case harmony-hunger attacked +him; pre-Yuletide functions he dodged, considering that his sister's +days in January and attendance at other family formalities were +sufficient. + +Meanwhile he was looking for two things--an apartment and a job--the +first energetically combated by his immediate family. + +It was rather odd--the scarcity of jobs. Of course Austin offered him +one which Selwyn declined at once, comfortably enraging his +brother-in-law for nearly ten minutes. + +"But what do I know about the investment of trust funds?" demanded +Selwyn; "you wouldn't take me if I were not your wife's brother--and +that's nepotism." + +Austin's harmless fury raged for nearly ten minutes, after which he +cheered up, relighted his cigar, and resumed his discussion with Selwyn +concerning the merits of various boys' schools--the victim in +prospective being Billy. + +A little later, reverting to the subject of his own enforced idleness, +Selwyn said: "I've been on the point of going to see Neergard--but +somehow I can't quite bring myself to it--slinking into his office as a +rank failure in one profession, to ask him if he has any use for me +again." + +"Stuff and fancy!" growled Gerard; "it's all stuff and fancy about your +being any kind of a failure. If you want to resume with that Dutchman, +go to him and say so. If you want to invest anything in his Long Island +schemes he'll take you in fast enough. He took in Gerald and some twenty +thousand." + +"Isn't he very prosperous, Austin?" + +"Very--on paper. Long Island farm lands and mortgages on Hampton +hen-coops are not fragrant propositions to me. But there's always one +more way of making a living after you counted 'em all up on your +fingers. If you've any capital to offer Neergard, he won't shriek for +help." + +"But isn't suburban property--" + +"On the jump? Yes--both ways. Oh, I suppose that Neergard is all +right--if he wasn't I wouldn't have permitted Gerald to go into it. +Neergard sticks to his commissions and doesn't back his fancy in +certified checks. I don't know exactly how he operates; I only know that +we find nothing in that sort of thing for our own account. But Fane, +Harmon & Co. do. That's their affair, too; it's all a matter of taste, I +tell you." + +Selwyn reflected: "I believe I'd go and see Neergard if I were perfectly +sure of my personal sentiments toward him. . . . He's been civil enough +to me, of course, but I have always had a curious feeling about +Neergard--that he's for ever on the edge of doing something--doubtful--" + +"His business reputation is all right. He shaves the dead line like a +safety razor, but he's never yet cut through it. On principle, however, +look out for an apple-faced Dutchman with a thin nose and no lips. +Neither Jew, Yankee, nor American stands any chance in a deal with that +type of financier. Personally my feeling is this: if I've got to play +games with Julius Neergard, I'd prefer to be his partner. And so I told +Gerald. By the way--" + +Austin checked himself, looked down at his cigar, turned it over and +over several times, then continued quietly: + +--"By the way, I suppose Gerald is like other young men of his age and +times--immersed in his own affairs--thoughtless perhaps, perhaps a +trifle selfish in the cross-country gallop after pleasure. . . . I was +rather severe with him about his neglect of his sister. He ought to have +come here to pay his respects to you, too--" + +"Oh, don't put such notions into his head--" + +"Yes, I will!" insisted Austin; "however indifferent and thoughtless and +selfish he is to other people, he's got to be considerate toward his own +family. And I told him so. Have you seen him lately?" + +"N-o," admitted Selwyn. + +"Not since that first time when he came to do the civil by you?" + +"No; but don't--" + +"Yes, I will," repeated his brother-in-law; "and I'm going to have a +thorough explanation with him and learn what he's up to. He's got to be +decent to his sister; he ought to report to me occasionally; that's all +there is to it. He has entirely too much liberty with his bachelor +quarters and his junior whipper-snapper club, and his house parties and +his cruises on Neergard's boat!" + +He got up, casting his cigar from him, and moved about bulkily, +muttering of matters to be regulated, and firmly, too. But Selwyn, +looking out of the window across the Park, knew perfectly well that +young Erroll, now of age, with a small portion of his handsome income +at his mercy, was past the regulating stage and beyond the authority of +Austin. There was no harm in him; he was simply a joyous, +pleasure-loving cub, chock full of energetic instincts, good and bad, +right and wrong, out of which, formed from the acts which become habits, +character matures. This was his estimate of Gerald. + + * * * * * + +The next morning, riding in the Park with Eileen, he found a chance to +speak cordially of her brother. + +"I've meant to look up Gerald," he said, as though the neglect were his +own fault, "but every time something happens to switch me on to another +track." + +"I'm afraid that I do a great deal of the switching," she said; "don't +I? But you've been so nice to me and to the children that--" + +Miss Erroll's horse was behaving badly, and for a few moments she became +too thoroughly occupied with her mount to finish her sentence. + +The belted groom galloped up, prepared for emergencies, and he and +Selwyn sat their saddles watching a pretty battle for mastery between a +beautiful horse determined to be bad and a very determined young girl +who had decided he was going to be good. + +Once or twice the excitement of solicitude sent the colour flying into +Selwyn's temples; the bridle-path was narrow and stiff with freezing +sand, and the trees were too near for such lively manoeuvres; but Miss +Erroll had made up her mind--and Selwyn already had a humorous idea that +this was no light matter. The horse found it serious enough, too, and +suddenly concluded to be good. And the pretty scene ended so abruptly +that Selwyn laughed aloud as he rejoined her: + +"There was a man--'Boots' Lansing--in Bannard's command. One night on +Samar the bolo-men rushed us, and Lansing got into the six-foot major's +boots by mistake--seven-leaguers, you know--and his horse bucked him +clean out of them." + +"Hence his Christian name, I suppose," said the girl; "but why such a +story, Captain Selwyn? I believe I stuck to my saddle?" + +"With both hands," he said cordially, always alert to plague her. For +she was adorable when teased--especially in the beginning of their +acquaintance, before she had found out that it was a habit of his--and +her bright confusion always delighted him into further mischief. + +"But I wasn't a bit worried," he continued; "you had him so firmly +around the neck. Besides, what horse or man could resist such a pleading +pair of arms around the neck?" + +"What you saw," she said, flushing up, "is exactly the way I shall do +any pleading with the two animals you mention." + +"Spur and curb and thrash us? Oh, my!" + +"Not if you're bridle-wise, Captain Selwyn," she returned sweetly. "And +you know you always are. And sometimes"--she crossed her crop and looked +around at him reflectively--"_sometimes_, do you know, I am almost +afraid that you are so very, very good, that perhaps you are becoming +almost goody-good." + +"_What_!" he exclaimed indignantly; but his only answer was her head +thrown back and a ripple of enchanting laughter. + +Later she remarked: "It's just as Nina says, after all, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so," he replied suspiciously; "what?" + +"That Gerald isn't really very wicked, but he likes to have us think +so. It's a sign of extreme self-consciousness, isn't it," she added +innocently, "when a man is afraid that a woman thinks he is very, very +good?" + +"That," he said, "is the limit. I'm going to ride by myself." + +Her pleasure in Selwyn's society had gradually become such genuine +pleasure, her confidence in his kindness so unaffectedly sincere, that, +insensibly, she had fallen into something of his manner of +badinage--especially since she realised how much amusement he found in +her own smiling confusion when unexpectedly assailed. Also, to her +surprise, she found that he could be plagued very easily, though she did +not quite dare to at first, in view of his impressive years and +experience. + +But once goaded to it, she was astonished to find how suddenly it seemed +to readjust their personal relations--years and experience falling from +his shoulders like a cloak which had concealed a man very nearly her own +age; years and experience adding themselves to her, and at least an inch +to her stature to redress the balance between them. + +It had amused him immensely as he realised the subtle change; and it +pleased him, too, because no man of thirty-five cares to be treated _en +grandpere_ by a girl of nineteen, even if she has not yet worn the +polish from her first pair of high-heeled shoes. + +"It's astonishing," he said, "how little respect infirmity and age +command in these days." + +"I do respect you," she insisted, "especially your infirmity of purpose. +You said you were going to ride by yourself. But, do you know, I don't +believe you are of a particularly solitary disposition; are you?" + +He laughed at first, then suddenly his face fell. + +"Not from choice," he said, under his breath. Her quick ear heard, and +she turned, semi-serious, questioning him with raised eyebrows. + +"Nothing; I was just muttering. I've a villainous habit of muttering +mushy nothings--" + +"You _did_ say something!" + +"No; only ghoulish gabble; the mere murky mouthings of a meagre mind." + +"You _did_. It's rude not to repeat it when I ask you." + +"I didn't mean to be rude." + +"Then repeat what you said to yourself." + +"Do you wish me to?" he asked, raising his eyes so gravely that the +smile faded from lip and voice when she answered: "I beg your pardon, +Captain Selwyn. I did not know you were serious." + +"Oh, I'm not," he returned lightly, "I'm never serious. No man who +soliloquises can be taken seriously. Don't you know, Miss Erroll, that +the crowning absurdity of all tragedy is the soliloquy?" + +Her smile became delightfully uncertain; she did not quite understand +him--though her instinct warned her that, for a second, something had +menaced their understanding. + +Riding forward with him through the crisp sunshine of mid-December, the +word "tragedy" still sounding in her ears, her thoughts reverted +naturally to the only tragedy besides her own which had ever come very +near to her--his own. + +Could he have meant _that_? Did people mention such things after they +had happened? Did they not rather conceal them, hide them deeper and +deeper with the aid of time and the kindly years for a burial past all +recollection? + +Troubled, uncomfortably intent on evading every thought or train of +ideas evoked, she put her mount to a gallop. But thought kept pace with +her. + +She was, of course, aware of the situation regarding Selwyn's domestic +affairs; she could not very well have been kept long in ignorance of the +facts; so Nina had told her carefully, leaving in the young girl's mind +only a bewildered sympathy for man and wife whom a dreadful and +incomprehensible catastrophe had overtaken; only an impression of +something new and fearsome which she had hitherto been unaware of in the +world, and which was to be added to her small but, unhappily, growing +list of sad and incredible things. + +The finality of the affair, according to Nina, was what had seemed to +her the most distressing--as though those two were already dead people. +She was unable to understand it. Could no glimmer of hope remain that, +in that magic "some day" of all young minds, the evil mystery might +dissolve? Could there be no living "happily ever after" in the wake of +such a storm? She had managed to hope for that, and believe in it. + +Then, in some way, the news of Alixe's marriage to Ruthven filtered +through the family silence. She had gone straight to Nina, horrified, +unbelieving. And, when the long, tender, intimate interview was over, +another unhappy truth, very gently revealed, was added to the growing +list already learned by this young girl. + +Then Selwyn came. She had already learned something of the world's +customs and manners before his advent; she had learned more since his +advent; and she was learning something else, too--to understand how +happily ignorant of many matters she had been, had better be, and had +best remain. And she harboured no malsane desire to know more than was +necessary, and every innocent instinct to preserve her ignorance intact +as long as the world permitted. + +As for the man riding there at her side, his problem was simple enough +as he summed it up: to face the world, however it might chance to spin, +that small, ridiculous, haphazard world rattling like a rickety roulette +ball among the numbered nights and days where he had no longer any vital +stake at hazard--no longer any chance to win or lose. + +This was an unstable state of mind, particularly as he had not yet +destroyed the photograph which he kept locked in his despatch box. He +had not returned it, either; it was too late by several months to do +that, but he was still fool enough to consider the idea at +moments--sometimes after a nursery romp with the children, or after a +good-night kiss from Drina on the lamp-lit landing, or when some +commonplace episode of the domesticity around him hurt him, cutting him +to the quick with its very simplicity, as when Nina's hand fell +naturally into Austin's on their way to "lean over" the children at +bedtime, or their frank absorption in conjugal discussion to his own +exclusion as he sat brooding by the embers in the library. + +"I'm like a dead man at times," he said to himself; "nothing to expect +of a man who is done for; and worst of all, I no longer expect anything +of myself." + +This was sufficiently morbid, and he usually proved it by going early to +his own quarters, where dawn sometimes surprised him asleep in his +chair, white and worn, all the youth in his hollow face extinct, his +wife's picture fallen face downward on the floor. + +But he always picked it up again when he awoke, and carefully dusted +it, too, even when half stupefied with sleep. + + * * * * * + +Returning from their gallop, Miss Erroll had very little to say. Selwyn, +too, was silent and absent-minded. The girl glanced furtively at him +from time to time, not at all enlightened. Man, naturally, was to her an +unknown quantity. In fact she had no reason to suspect him of being +anything more intricate than the platitudinous dance or dinner partner +in black and white, or any frock-coated entity in the afternoon, or any +flannelled individual at the nets or on the links or cantering about the +veranda of club, casino, or cottage, in evident anxiety to be +considerate and agreeable. + +This one, however, appeared to have individual peculiarities; he +differed from his brother Caucasians, who should all resemble one +another to any normal girl. For one thing he was subject to illogical +moods--apparently not caring whether she noticed them or not. For +another, he permitted himself the liberty of long and unreasonable +silences whenever he pleased. This she had accepted unquestioningly in +the early days when she was a little in awe of him, when the discrepancy +of their ages and experiences had not been dissipated by her first +presumptuous laughter at his expense. + +Now it puzzled her, appearing as a specific trait differentiating him +from Man in the abstract. + +He had another trick, too, of retiring within himself, even when smiling +at her sallies or banteringly evading her challenge to a duel of wits. +At such times he no longer looked very young; she had noticed that more +than once. He looked old, and ill-tempered. + +Perhaps some sorrow--the actuality being vague in her mind; perhaps +some hidden suffering--but she learned that he had never been wounded in +battle and had never even had measles. + +The sudden sullen pallor, the capricious fits of silent reserve, the +smiling aloofness, she never attributed to the real source. How could +she? The Incomprehensible Thing was a Finality accomplished according to +law. And the woman concerned was now another man's wife. Which +conclusively proved that there could be no regret arising from the +Incomprehensible Finality, and that nobody involved cared, much less +suffered. Hence _that_ was certainly not the cause of any erratic or +specific phenomena exhibited by this sample of man who differed, as she +had noticed, somewhat from the rank and file of his neutral-tinted +brothers. + +"It's this particular specimen, _per se_," she concluded; "it's himself, +_sui generis_--just as I happen to have red hair. That is all." + +And she rode on quite happily, content, confident of his interest and +kindness. For she had never forgotten his warm response to her when she +stood on the threshold of her first real dinner party, in her first real +dinner gown--a trivial incident, trivial words! But they had meant more +to her than any man specimen could understand--including the man who had +uttered them; and the violets, which she found later with his card, must +remain for her ever after the delicately fragrant symbol of all he had +done for her in a solitude, the completeness of which she herself was +only vaguely beginning to realise. + +Thinking of this now, she thought of her brother--and the old hurt at +his absence on that night throbbed again. Forgive? Yes. But how could +she forget it? + +"I wish you knew Gerald well," she said impulsively; "he is such a dear +fellow; and I think you'd be good for him--and besides," she hastened to +add, with instinctive loyalty, lest he misconstrue, "Gerald would be +good for you. We were a great deal together--at one time." + +He nodded, smilingly attentive. + +"Of course when he went away to school it was different," she added. +"And then he went to Yale; that was four more years, you see." + +"I was a Yale man," remarked Selwyn; "did he--" but he broke off +abruptly, for he knew quite well that young Erroll could have made no +senior society without his hearing of it. And he had not heard of +it--not in the cane-brakes of Leyte where, on his sweat-soaked shirt, a +small pin of heavy gold had clung through many a hike and many a scout +and by many a camp-fire where the talk was of home and of the chances of +crews and of quarter-backs. + +"What were you going to ask me, Captain Selwyn?" + +"Did he row--your brother Gerald?" + +"No," she said. She did not add that he had broken training; that was +her own sorrow, to be concealed even from Gerald. "No; he played polo +sometimes. He rides beautifully, Captain Selwyn, and he is so clever +when he cares to be--at the traps, for example--and--oh--anything. He +once swam--oh, dear, I forget; was it five or fifteen or fifty miles? Is +that _too_ far? Do people swim those distances?" + +"Some of those distances," replied Selwyn. + +"Well, then, Gerald swam some of those distances--and everybody was +amazed. . . . I do wish you knew him well." + +"I mean to," he said. "I must look him up at his rooms or his club +or--perhaps--at Neergard & Co." + +"_Will_ you do this?" she asked, so earnestly that he glanced up +surprised. + +"Yes," he said; and after a moment: "I'll do it to-day, I think; this +afternoon." + +"Have you time? You mustn't let me--" + +"Time?" he repeated; "I have nothing else, except a watch to help me get +rid of it." + +"I'm afraid I help you get rid of it, too. I heard Nina warning the +children to let you alone occasionally--and I suppose she meant that for +me, too. But I only take your mornings, don't I? Nina is unreasonable; I +never bother you in the afternoons or evenings; do you know I have not +dined at home for nearly a month--except when we've asked people?" + +"Are you having a good time?" he asked condescendingly, but without +intention. + +"Heavenly. How can you ask that?--with every day filled and a chance to +decline something every day. If you'd only go to one--just one of the +dances and teas and dinners, you'd be able to see for yourself what a +good time I am having. . . . I don't know why I should be so +delightfully lucky, but everybody asks me to dance, and every man I meet +is particularly nice, and nobody has been very horrid to me; perhaps +because I like everybody--" + +She rode on beside him; they were walking their horses now; and as her +silken-coated mount paced forward through the sunshine she sat at ease, +straight as a slender Amazon in her habit, ruddy hair glistening at the +nape of her neck, the scarlet of her lips always a vivid contrast to +that wonderful unblemished skin of snow. + +He thought to himself, quite impersonally: "She's a real beauty, that +youngster. No wonder they ask her to dance and nobody is horrid. Men are +likely enough to go quite mad about her as Nina predicts: probably some +of 'em have already--that chuckle-headed youth who was there Tuesday, +gulping up the tea--" And, "What was his name?" he asked aloud. + +"Whose name?" she inquired, roused by his voice from smiling +retrospection. + +"That chuckle head--the young man who continued to haunt you so +persistently when you poured tea for Nina on Tuesday. Of course they +_all_ haunted you," he explained politely, as she shook her head in sign +of non-comprehension; "but there was one who--ah--gulped at his cup." + +"Please--you are rather dreadful, aren't you?" + +"Yes. So was he; I mean the infatuated chinless gentleman whose facial +ensemble remotely resembled the features of a pleased and placid lizard +of the Reptilian period." + +"Oh, George Fane! That is particularly disagreeable of you, Captain +Selwyn, because his wife has been very nice to me--Rosamund Fane--and +she spoke most cordially of you--" + +"Which one was she?" + +"The Dresden china one. She looks--she simply cannot look as though she +were married. It's most amusing--for people always take her for +somebody's youngest sister who will be out next winter. . . . Don't you +remember seeing her?" + +"No, I don't. But there were dozens coming and going every minute whom I +didn't know. Still, I behaved well, didn't I?" + +"Pretty badly--to Kathleen Lawn, whom you cornered so that she couldn't +escape until her mother made her go without any tea." + +"Was _that_ the reason that old lady looked at me so queerly?" + +"Probably. I did, too, but you were taking chances, not hints. . . . She +_is_ attractive, isn't she?" + +"Very fetching," he said, leaning down to examine his stirrup leathers +which he had already lengthened twice. "I've got to have Cummins punch +these again," he muttered; "or am I growing queer-legged in my old age?" + +As he straightened up, Miss Erroll said: "Here comes Mr. Fane now--with +a strikingly pretty girl. How beautifully they are mounted"--smilingly +returning Fane's salute--"and she--oh! so you _do_ know her, Captain +Selwyn? Who is she?" + +Crop raised mechanically in dazed salute, Selwyn's light touch on the +bridle had tightened to a nervous clutch which brought his horse up +sharply. + +"What is it?" she asked, drawing bridle in her turn and looking back +into his white, stupefied face. + +"Pain," he said, unconscious that he spoke. At the same instant the +stunned eyes found their focus--and found her beside his stirrup, +leaning wide from her seat in sweet concern, one gloved hand resting on +the pommel of his saddle. + +"Are you ill?" she asked; "shall we dismount? If you feel dizzy, please +lean against me." + +"I am all right," he said coolly; and as she recovered her seat he set +his horse in motion. His face had become very red now; he looked at her, +then beyond her, with all the deliberate concentration of aloof +indifference. + +Confused, conscious that something had happened which she did not +comprehend, and sensitively aware of the preoccupation which, if it did +not ignore her, accepted her presence as of no consequence, she +permitted her horse to set his own pace. + +Neither self-command nor self-control was lacking now in Selwyn; he +simply was too self-absorbed to care what she thought--whether she +thought at all. And into his consciousness, throbbing heavily under the +rushing reaction from shock, crowded the crude fact that Alixe was no +longer an apparition evoked in sleeplessness, in sun-lit brooding; +in the solitude of crowded avenues and swarming streets; she +was an actual presence again in his life--she was here, bodily, +unchanged--unchanged!--for he had conceived a strange idea that she must +have changed physically, that her appearance had altered. He knew it was +a grotesquely senseless idea, but it clung to him, and he had nursed it +unconsciously. + +He had, truly enough, expected to encounter her in life +again--somewhere; though what he had been preparing to see, Heaven alone +knew; but certainly not the supple, laughing girl he had known--that +smooth, slender, dark-eyed, dainty visitor who had played at marriage +with him through a troubled and unreal dream; and was gone when he +awoke--so swift the brief two years had passed, as swift in sorrow as in +happiness. + +Two vision-tinted years!--ended as an hour ends with the muffled chimes +of a clock, leaving the air of an empty room vibrant. Two years!--a +swift, restless dream aglow with exotic colour, echoing with laughter +and bugle-call and the noise of the surf on Samar rocks--a dream through +which stirred the rustle of strange brocades and the whisper of breezes +blowing over the grasses of Leyte; and the light, dry report of rifles, +and the shuffle of bare feet in darkened bungalows, and the whisper of +dawn in Manila town. + +Two years!--wherever they came from, wherever they had gone. And now, +out of the ghostly, shadowy memory, behold _her_ stepping into the world +again!--living, breathing, quickening with the fire of life undimmed in +her. And he had seen the bright colour spreading to her eyes, and the +dark eyes widen to his stare; he had seen the vivid blush, the forced +smile, the nod, the voiceless parting of her stiffened lips. Then she +was gone, leaving the whole world peopled with her living presence and +the very sky ringing with the words her lips had never uttered, never +would utter while sun and moon and stars endured. + +Shrinking from the clamouring tumult of his thoughts he looked around, +hard-eyed and drawn of mouth, to find Miss Erroll riding a length in +advance, her gaze fixed resolutely between her horse's ears. + +How much had she noticed? How much had she divined?--this straight, +white-throated young girl, with her self-possession and her rounded, +firm young figure, this child with the pure, curved cheek, the clear, +fearless eyes, untainted, ignorant, incredulous of shame, of evil. + +Severe, confident, untroubled in the freshness of adolescence, she rode +on, straight before her, symbolic innocence leading the disillusioned. +And he followed, hard, dry eyes narrowing, ever narrowing and flinching +under the smiling gaze of the dark-eyed, red-mouthed ghost that sat +there on his saddle bow, facing him, almost in his very arms. + + * * * * * + +Luncheon had not been served when they returned. Without lingering on +the landing as usual, they exchanged a formal word or two, then Eileen +mounted to her own quarters and Selwyn walked nervously through the +library, where he saw Nina evidently prepared for some mid-day +festivity, for she wore hat and furs, and the brougham was outside. + +"Oh, Phil," she said, "Eileen probably forgot that I was going out; it's +a directors' luncheon at the exchange. Please tell Eileen that I can't +wait for her; where is she?" + +"Dressing, I suppose. Nina, I--" + +"One moment, dear. I promised the children that you would lunch with +them in the nursery. Do you mind? I did it to keep them quiet; I was +weak enough to compromise between a fox hunt or fudge; so I said you'd +lunch with them.. Will you?" + +"Certainly. . . . And, Nina--what sort of a man is this George Fane?" + +"Fane?" + +"Yes--the chinless gentleman with gentle brown and protruding eyes and +the expression of a tame brontosaurus." + +"Why--how do you mean, Phil? What sort of man? He's a banker. He isn't +very pretty, but he's popular." + +"Oh, popular!" he nodded, as close to a sneer as he could ever get. + +"He has a very popular wife, too; haven't you met Rosamund? People like +him; he's about everywhere--very useful, very devoted to pretty women; +but I'm really in a hurry, Phil. Won't you please explain to Eileen that +I couldn't wait? You and she were almost an hour late. Now I must pick +up my skirts and fly, or there'll be some indignant dowagers +downtown. . . . Good-bye, dear. . . . And _don't_ let the children eat +too fast! Make Drina take thirty-six chews to every bite; and Winthrop +is to have no bread if he has potatoes--" Her voice dwindled and died, +away through the hall; the front door clanged. + +He went to his quarters, drove out Austin's man, arranged his own fresh +linen, took a sulky plunge; and, an unlighted cigarette between his +teeth, completed his dressing in sullen introspection. + +When he had tied his scarf and bitten his cigarette to pieces, he paced +the room once or twice, squared his shoulders, breathed deeply, and, +unbending his eyebrows, walked off to the nursery. + +"Hello, you kids!" he said, with an effort. "I've come to luncheon. Very +nice of you to want me, Drina." + +"I wanted you, too!" said Billy; "I'm to sit beside you--" + +"So am I," observed Drina, pushing Winthrop out of the chair and sliding +in close to Selwyn. She had the cat, Kit-Ki, in her arms. Kit-Ki, +divining nourishment, was purring loudly. + +Josephine and Clemence, in pinafores and stickout skirts, sat wriggling, +with Winthrop between them; the five dogs sat in a row behind; Katie and +Bridget assumed the functions of Hibernian Hebes; and luncheon began +with a clatter of spoons. + +It being also the children's dinner--supper and bed occurring from five +to six--meat figured on the card, and Kit-Ki's purring increased to an +ecstatic and wheezy squeal, and her rigid tail, as she stood up on +Drina's lap, was constantly brushing Selwyn's features. + +"The cat is shedding, too," he remarked, as he dodged her caudal +appendage for the twentieth time; "it will go in with the next +spoonful, Drina, if you're not careful about opening your mouth." + +"I love Kit-Ki," said Drina placidly. "I have written a poem to +her--where is it?--hand it to me, Bridget." + +And, laying down her fork and crossing her bare legs under the table, +Drina took breath and read rapidly: + + "LINES TO MY CAT + + "Why + Do I love Kit-Ki + And run after + Her with laughter + And rub her fur + So she will purr? + Why do I know + That Kit-Ki loves me so? + I know it if + Her tail stands up stiff + And she beguiles + Me with smiles--" + +"Huh!" said Billy, "cats don't smile!" + +"They do. When they look pleasant they smile," said Drina, and continued +reading from her own works: + + "Be kind in all + You say and do + For God made Kit-Ki + The same as you. + "Yours truly, + "ALEXANDRINA GERARD. + +She looked doubtfully at Selwyn. "Is it all right to sign a poem? I +believe that poets sign their works, don't they, Uncle Philip?" + +"Certainly. Drina, I'll give you a dollar for that poem." + +"You may have it, anyway," said Drina, generously; and, as an +after-thought: "My birthday is next Wednesday." + +"What a hint!" jeered Billy, casting a morsel at the dogs. + +"It isn't a hint. It had nothing to do with my poem, and I'll write you +several more, Uncle Philip," protested the child, cuddling against him, +spoon in hand, and inadvertently decorating his sleeve with cranberry +sauce. + +Cat hairs and cranberry are a great deal for a man to endure, but he +gave Drina a reassuring hug and a whisper, and leaned back to remove +traces of the affectionate encounter just as Miss Erroll entered. + +"Oh, Eileen! Eileen!" cried the children; "are you coming to luncheon +with us?" + +As Selwyn rose, she nodded, amused. + +"I am rather hurt," she said. "I went down to luncheon, but as soon as I +heard where you all were I marched straight up here to demand the reason +of my ostracism." + +"We thought you had gone with mother," explained Drina, looking about +for a chair. + +Selwyn brought it. "I was commissioned to say that Nina couldn't +wait--dowagers and cakes and all that, you know. Won't you sit down? +It's rather messy and the cat is the guest of honour." + +"We have three guests of honour," said Drina; "you, Eileen, and Kit-Ki. +Uncle Philip, mother has forbidden me to speak of it, so I shall tell +her and be punished--but _wouldn't_ it be splendid if Aunt Alixe were +only here with us?" + +Selwyn turned sharply, every atom of colour gone; and the child smiled +up at him. "_Wouldn't_ it?" she pleaded. + +"Yes," he said, so quietly that something silenced the child. And +Eileen, giving ostentatious and undivided attention to the dogs, was now +enveloped by snooping, eager muzzles and frantically wagging tails. + +"My lap is full of paws!" she exclaimed; "take them away, Katie! And +oh!--my gown, my gown!--Billy, stop waving your tumbler around my face! +If you spill that milk on me I shall ask your Uncle Philip to put you in +the guard-house!" + +"You're going to bolo us, aren't you, Uncle Philip?" inquired Billy. +"It's my turn to be killed, you remember--" + +"I have an idea," said Selwyn, "that Miss Erroll is going to play for +you to sing." + +They liked that. The infant Gerards were musically inclined, and nothing +pleased them better than to lift their voices in unison. Besides, it +always distressed Kit-Ki, and they never tired laughing to see the +unhappy cat retreat before the first minor chord struck on the piano. +More than that, the dogs always protested, noses pointed heavenward. It +meant noise, which was always welcome in any form. + +"Will you play, Miss Erroll?" inquired Selwyn. + +Miss Erroll would play. + +"Why do you always call her 'Miss Erroll'?" asked Billy. "Why don't you +say 'Eileen'?" + +Selwyn laughed. "I don't know, Billy; ask her; perhaps she knows." + +Eileen laughed, too, delicately embarrassed and aware of his teasing +smile. But Drina, always impressed by formality, said: "Uncle Philip +isn't Eileen's uncle. People who are not relations say _Miss and Mrs_." + +"Are faver and muvver relations?" asked Josephine timidly. + +"Y-es--no!--I don't know," admitted Drina; "_are_ they, Eileen?" + +"Why, yes--that is--that is to say--" And turning to Selwyn: "What +dreadful questions. _Are_ they relations, Captain Selwyn? Of course they +are!" + +"They were not before they were married," he said, laughing. + +"If you married Eileen," began Billy, "you'd call her Eileen, I +suppose." + +"Certainly," said Selwyn. + +"Why don't you?" + +"That is another thing you must ask her, my son." + +"Well, then, Eileen--" + +But Miss Erroll was already seated at the nursery piano, and his demands +were drowned in a decisive chord which brought the children clustering +around her, while their nurses ran among them untying bibs and scrubbing +faces and fingers in fresh water. + +They sang like seraphs, grouped around the piano, fingers linked behind +their backs. First it was "The Vicar of Bray." Then--and the cat fled at +the first chord--"Lochleven Castle": + + "Put off, put off, + And row with speed + For now is the time and the hour of need." + +Miss Erroll sang, too; her voice leading--a charmingly trained, but +childlike voice, of no pretensions, as fresh and unspoiled as the girl +herself. + +There was an interval after "Castles in the Air"; Eileen sat, with her +marvellously white hands resting on the keys, awaiting further +suggestion. + +"Sing that funny song, Uncle Philip!" pleaded Billy; "you know--the one +about: + + "She hit him with a shingle + Which made his breeches tingle + Because he pinched his little baby brother; + And he ran down the lane + With his pants full of pain. + Oh, a boy's best friend is his mother!" + +"_Billy!_" gasped Miss Erroll. + +Selwyn, mortified, said severely: "That is a very dreadful song, +Billy--" + +"But _you_ taught it to me--" + +Eileen swung around on the piano stool, but Selwyn had seized Billy and +was promising to bolo him as soon as he wished. + +And Eileen, surveying the scene from her perch, thought that Selwyn's +years seemed to depend entirely upon his occupation, for he looked very +boyish down there on his knees among the children; and she had not yet +forgotten the sunken pallor of his features in the Park--no, nor her own +question to him, still unanswered. For she had asked him who that woman +was who had been so direct in her smiling salute. And he had not yet +replied; probably never would; for she did not expect to ask him again. + +Meanwhile the bolo-men were rushing the outposts to the outposts' +intense satisfaction. + +"Bang-bang!" repeated Winthrop; "I hit you, Uncle Philip. You are dead, +you know!" + +"Yes, but here comes another! Fire!" shouted Billy. "Save the flag! +Hurrah! Pound on the piano, Eileen, and pretend it's cannon." + +Chord after chord reverberated through the big sunny room, punctuated by +all the cavalry music she had picked up from West Point and her friends +in the squadron. + + "We can't get 'em up! + We can't get 'em up! + We can't get 'em up + In the morning!" + +she sang, calmly watching the progress of the battle, until Selwyn +disengaged himself from the _melee_ and sank breathlessly into a chair. + +"All over," he said, declining further combat. "Play the 'Star-spangled +Banner,' Miss Erroll." + +"Boom!" crashed the chord for the sunset gun; then she played the +anthem; Selwyn rose, and the children stood up at salute. + +The party was over. + +Selwyn and Miss Erroll, strolling together out of the nursery and down +the stairs, fell unconsciously into the amiable exchange of badinage +again; she taunting him with his undignified behaviour, he retorting in +kind. + +"Anyway that was a perfectly dreadful verse you taught Billy," she +concluded. + +"Not as dreadful as the chorus," he remarked, wincing. + +"You're exactly like a bad small boy, Captain Selwyn; you look like one +now--so sheepish! I've seen Gerald attempt to avoid admonition in +exactly that fashion." + +"How about a jolly brisk walk?" he inquired blandly; "unless you've +something on. I suppose you have." + +"Yes, I have; a tea at the Fanes, a function at the Grays. . . . Do you +know Sudbury Gray? It's his mother." + +They had strolled into the living room--a big, square, sunny place, in +golden greens and browns, where a bay-window overlooked the Park. + +Kneeling on the cushions of the deep window seat she flattened her +delicate nose against the glass, peering out through the lace hangings. + +"Everybody and his family are driving," she said over her shoulder. "The +rich and great are cornering the fresh-air supply. It's interesting, +isn't it, merely to sit here and count coteries! There is Mrs. +Vendenning and Gladys Orchil of the Black Fells set; there is that +pretty Mrs. Delmour-Carnes; Newport! Here come some Cedarhurst +people--the Fleetwoods. It always surprises one to see them out of the +saddle. There is Evelyn Cardwell; she came out when I did; and there +comes Sandon Craig with a very old lady--there, in that old-fashioned +coach--oh, it is Mrs. Jan Van Elten, senior. What a very, very quaint +old lady! I have been presented at court," she added, with a little +laugh, "and now all the law has been fulfilled." + +For a while she kneeled there, silently intent on the passing pageant +with all the unconscious curiosity of a child. Presently, without +turning: "They speak of the younger set--but what is its limit? So many, +so many people! The hunting crowd--the silly crowd--the wealthy +sets--the dreadful yellow set--then all those others made out of +metals--copper and coal and iron and--" She shrugged her youthful +shoulders, still intent on the passing show. + +"Then there are the intellectuals--the artistic, the illuminated, the +musical sorts. I--I wish I knew more of them. They were my father's +friends--some of them." She looked over her shoulder to see where Selwyn +was, and whether he was listening; smiled at him, and turned, resting +one hand on the window seat. "So many kinds of people," she said, with a +shrug. + +"Yes," said Selwyn lazily, "there are all kinds of kinds. You remember +that beautiful nature-poem: + + "'The sea-gull + And the eagul + And the dipper-dapper-duck + And the Jew-fish + And the blue-fish + And the turtle in the muck; + And the squir'l + And the girl + And the flippy floppy bat + Are differ-ent + As gent from gent. + So let it go at that!'" + +"What hideous nonsense," she laughed, in open encouragement; but he +could recall nothing more--or pretended he couldn't. + +"You asked me," he said, "whether I know Sudbury Gray. I do, slightly. +What about him?" And he waited, remembering Nina's suggestion as to that +wealthy young man's eligibility. + +"He's one of the nicest men I know," she replied frankly. + +"Yes, but you don't know 'Boots' Lansing." + +"The gentleman who was bucked out of his footwear? Is he attractive?" + +"Rather. Shrieks rent the air when 'Boots' left Manila." + +"Feminine shrieks?" + +"Exclusively. The men were glad enough. He has three months' leave this +winter, so you'll see him soon." + +She thanked him mockingly for the promise, watching him from amused +eyes. After a moment she said: + +"I ought to arise and go forth with timbrels and with dances; but, do +you know, I am not inclined to revels? There has been a little--just a +very little bit too much festivity so far. . . . Not that I don't adore +dinners and gossip and dances; not that I do not love to pervade bright +and glittering places. Oh, no. Only--I--" + +She looked shyly a moment at Selwyn: "I sometimes feel a curious desire +for other things. I have been feeling it all day." + +"What things?" + +"I--don't know--exactly; substantial things. I'd like to learn about +things. My father was the head of the American School of Archaeology in +Crete. My mother was his intellectual equal, I believe--" + +Her voice had fallen as she spoke. "Do you wonder that physical pleasure +palls a little at times? I inherit something besides a capacity for +dancing." + +He nodded, watching her with an interest and curiosity totally new. + +"When I was ten years old I was taken abroad for the winter. I saw the +excavations in Crete for the buried city which father discovered near +Praesos. We lived for a while with Professor Flanders in the Fayum +district; I saw the ruins of Kahun, built nearly three thousand years +before the coming of Christ; I myself picked up a scarab as old as the +ruins! . . . Captain Selwyn--I was only a child of ten; I could +understand very little of what I saw and heard, but I have never, never +forgotten the happiness of that winter! . . . And that is why, at times, +pleasures tire me a little; and a little discontent creeps in. It is +ungrateful and ungracious of me to say so, but I did wish so much to go +to college--to have something to care for--as mother cared for father's +work. Why, do you know that my mother accidentally discovered the +thirty-seventh sign in the Karian Signary?" + +"No," said Selwyn, "I did not know that." He forbore to add that he did +not know what a Signary resembled or where Karia might be. + +Miss Erroll's elbow was on her knee, her chin resting within her open +palm. + +"Do you know about my parents?" she asked. "They were lost in the +_Argolis_ off Cyprus. You have heard. I think they meant that I should +go to college--as well as Gerald; I don't know. Perhaps after all it is +better for me to do what other young girls do. Besides, I enjoy it; and +my mother did, too, when she was my age, they say. She was very much +gayer than I am; my mother was a beauty and a brilliant woman. . . . But +there were other qualities. I--have her letters to father when Gerald +and I were very little; and her letters to us from London. . . . I have +missed her more, this winter, it seems to me, than even in that dreadful +time--" + +She sat silent, chin in hand, delicate fingers restlessly worrying her +red lips; then, in quick impulse: + +"You will not mistake me, Captain Selwyn! Nina and Austin have been +perfectly sweet to me and to Gerald." + +"I am not mistaking a word you utter," he said. + +"No, of course not. . . . Only there are times . . . moments . . ." + +Her voice died; her clear eyes looked out into space while the silent +seconds lengthened into minutes. One slender finger had slipped between +her lips and teeth; the burnished strand of hair which Nina dreaded lay +neglected against her cheek. + +"I should like to know," she began, as though to herself, "something +about everything. That being out of the question, I should like to know +everything about something. That also being out of the question, for +third choice I should like to know something about something. I am not +too ambitious, am I?" + +Selwyn did not offer to answer. + +"_Am_ I?" she repeated, looking directly at him. + +"I thought you were asking yourself." + +"But you need not reply; there is no sense in my question." + +She stood up, indifferent, absent-eyed, half turning toward the window; +and, raising her hand, she carelessly brought the rebel strand of hair +under discipline. + +"You _said_ you were going to look up Gerald," she observed. + +"I am; now. What are you going to do?" + +"I? Oh, dress, I suppose. Nina ought to be back now, and she expects me +to go out with her." + +She nodded a smiling termination of their duet, and moved toward the +door. Then, on impulse, she turned, a question on her lips--left +unuttered through instinct. It had to do with the identity of the pretty +woman who had so directly saluted him in the Park--a perfectly +friendly, simple, and natural question. Yet it remained unuttered. + +She turned again to the doorway; a maid stood there holding a note on a +salver. + +"For Captain Selwyn, please," murmured the maid. + +Miss Erroll passed out. + +Selwyn took the note and broke the seal: + + "MY DEAR SELWYN: I'm in a beastly fix--an I.O.U. due to-night and + _pas de quoi_! Obviously I don't want Neergard to know, being + associated as I am with him in business. As for Austin, he's a + peppery old boy, bless his heart, and I'm not very secure in his + good graces at present. Fact is I got into a rather stiff game last + night--and it's a matter of honour. So can you help me to tide it + over? I'll square it on the first of the month. + + "Yours sincerely, + + "GERALD ERROLL. + + "P.S.--I've meant to look you up for ever so long, and will the + first moment I have free." + +Below this was pencilled the amount due; and Selwyn's face grew very +serious. + +The letter he wrote in return ran: + + "DEAR GERALD: Check enclosed to your order. By the way, can't you + lunch with me at the Lenox Club some day this week? Write, wire, or + telephone when. + + "Yours, + + "SELWYN." + +When he had sent the note away by the messenger he walked back to the +bay-window, hands in his pockets, a worried expression in his gray +eyes. This sort of thing must not be repeated; the boy must halt in his +tracks and face sharply the other way. Besides, his own income was +limited--much too limited to admit of many more loans of that sort. + +He ought to see Gerald at once, but somehow he could not in decency +appear personally on the heels of his loan. A certain interval must +elapse between the loan and the lecture; in fact he didn't see very well +how he could admonish and instruct until the loan had been +cancelled--that is, until the first of the New Year. + +Pacing the floor, disturbed, uncertain as to the course he should +pursue, he looked up presently to see Miss Erroll descending the stairs, +fresh and sweet in her radiant plumage. As she caught his eye she waved +a silvery chinchilla muff at him--a marching salute--and passed on, +calling back to him: "Don't forget Gerald!" + +"No," he said, "I won't forget Gerald." He stood a moment at the window +watching the brougham below where Nina awaited Miss Erroll. Then, +abruptly, he turned back into the room and picked up the telephone +receiver, muttering: "This is no time to mince matters for the sake of +appearances." And he called up Gerald at the offices of Neergard & Co. + +"Is it you, Gerald?" he asked pleasantly. "It's all right about that +matter; I've sent you a note by your messenger. But I want to talk to +you about another matter--something concerning myself--I want to ask +your advice, in a way. Can you be at the Lenox by six? . . . You have an +engagement at eight? Oh, that's all right; I won't keep you. . . . It's +understood, then; the Lenox at six. . . . Good-bye." + +There was the usual early evening influx of men at the Lenox who dropped +in for a glance at the ticker, or for a cocktail or a game of billiards +or a bit of gossip before going home to dress. + +Selwyn sauntered over to the basket, inspected a yard or two of tape, +then strolled toward the window, nodding to Bradley Harmon and Sandon +Craig. + +As he turned his face to the window and his back to the room, Harmon +came up rather effusively, offering an unusually thin flat hand and +further hospitality, pleasantly declined by Selwyn. + +"Horrible thing, a cocktail," observed Harmon, after giving his own +order and seating himself opposite Selwyn. "I don't usually do it. Here +comes the man who persuades me!--my own partner--" + +Selwyn looked up to see Fane approaching; and instantly a dark flush +overspread his face. + +"You know George Fane, don't you?" continued Harmon easily; "well, +that's odd; I thought, of course--Captain Selwyn, Mr. Fane. It's not +usual--but it's done." + +They exchanged formalities--dry and brief on Selwyn's part, gracefully +urbane on Fane's. + +"I've heard so pleasantly of you from Gerald Erroll," he said, "and of +course our people have always been on cordial terms. Neither Mrs. Fane +nor I was fortunate enough to meet you last Tuesday at the Gerards--such +a crush, you know. Are you not joining us, Captain Selwyn?" as the +servant appeared to take orders. + +Selwyn declined again, glancing at Harmon--a large-framed, bony young +man with blond, closely trimmed and pointed beard, and the fair colour +of a Swede. He had the high, flat cheek-bones of one, too; and a +thicket of corn-tinted hair, which was usually damp at the ends, and +curled flat against his forehead. He seemed to be always in a slight +perspiration--he had been, anyway, every time Selwyn met him anywhere. + +Sandon Craig and Billy Fleetwood came wandering up and joined them; one +or two other men, drifting by, adhered to the group. + +Selwyn, involved in small talk, glanced sideways at the great clock, and +gathered himself together for departure. + +Fleetwood was saying to Craig: "Certainly it was a stiff game--Bradley, +myself, Gerald Erroll, Mrs. Delmour-Carnes, and the Ruthvens." + +"Were you hit?" asked Craig, interested. + +"No; about even. Gerald got it good and plenty, though. The Ruthvens +were ahead as usual--" + +Selwyn, apparently hearing nothing, quietly rose and stepped out of the +circle, paused to set fire to a cigarette, and then strolled off toward +the visitors' room, where Gerald was now due. + +Fane stretched his neck, looking curiously after him. Then he said to +Fleetwood: "Why begin to talk about Mrs. Ruthven when our friend yonder +is about? Rotten judgment you show, Billy." + +"Well, I clean forgot," said Fleetwood; "what did I say, anyway? A man +can't always remember who's divorced from who in this town." + +Harmon, whose civility to Selwyn had possibly been based on his desire +for pleasant relations with Austin Gerard and the Arickaree Loan and +Trust Company, looked at Fleetwood thoroughly vexed. But nobody could +have suspected vexation in that high-boned smile which showed such very +red lips through the blond beard. + +Fane, too, smiled; his prominent soft brown eyes expressed gentlest +good-humour, and he passed his hand reflectively over his unusually +small and retreating chin. Perhaps he was thinking of the meeting in the +Park that morning. It was amusing; but men do not speak of such things +at their clubs, no matter how amusing. Besides, if the story were aired +and were traced to him, Ruthven might turn ugly. There was no counting +on Ruthven. + +Meanwhile Selwyn, perplexed and worried, found young Erroll just +entering the visitors' room, and greeted him with nervous cordiality. + +"If you can't stay and dine with me," he said, "I won't put you down. +You know, of course, I can only ask you once in a year, so we'll stay +here and chat a bit." + +"Right you are," said young Erroll, flinging off his very new and very +fashionable overcoat--a wonderfully handsome boy, with all the +attraction that a quick, warm, impulsive manner carries. "And I say, +Selwyn, it was awfully decent of you to--" + +"Bosh! Friends are for that sort of thing, Gerald. Sit here--" He looked +at the young man hesitatingly; but Gerald calmly took the matter out of +his jurisdiction by nodding his order to the club attendant. + +"Lord, but I'm tired," he said, sinking back into a big arm-chair; "I +was up till daylight, and then I had to be in the office by nine, and +to-night Billy Fleetwood is giving--oh, something or other. By the way, +the market isn't doing a thing to the shorts! You're not in, are you, +Selwyn?" + +"No, not that way. I hope you are not, either; are you, Gerald?" + +"Oh, it's all right," replied the young fellow confidently; and raising +his glass, he nodded at Selwyn with a smile. + +"You were mighty nice to me, anyhow," he said, setting his glass aside +and lighting a cigar. "You see, I went to a dance, and after a while +some of us cleared out, and Jack Ruthven offered us trouble; so half a +dozen of us went there. I had the worst cards a man ever drew to a +kicker. That was all about it." + +The boy was utterly unconscious that he was treading on delicate ground +as he rattled on in his warmhearted, frank, and generous way. Totally +oblivious that the very name of Ruthven must be unwelcome if not +offensive to his listener, he laughed through a description of the +affair, its thrilling episodes, and Mrs. Jack Ruthven's blind luck in +the draw. + +"One moment," interrupted Selwyn, very gently; "do you mind saying +whether you banked my check and drew against it?" + +"Why, no; I just endorsed it over." + +"To--to whom?--if I may venture--" + +"Certainly," he said, with a laugh; "to Mrs. Jack--" Then, in a flash, +for the first time the boy realised what he was saying, and stopped +aghast, scarlet to his hair. + +Selwyn's face had little colour remaining in it, but he said very +kindly: "It's all right, Gerald; don't worry--" + +"I'm a beast!" broke out the boy; "I beg your pardon a thousand times." + +"Granted, old chap. But, Gerald, may I say one thing--or perhaps two?" + +"Go ahead! Give it to me good and plenty!" + +"It's only this: couldn't you and I see one another a little oftener? +Don't be afraid of me; I'm no wet blanket. I'm not so very aged, +either; I know something of the world--I understand something of men. +I'm pretty good company, Gerald. What do you say?" + +"I say, _sure_!" cried the boy warmly. + +"It's a go, then. And one thing more: couldn't you manage to come up to +the house a little oftener? Everybody misses you, of course; I think +your sister is a trifle sensitive--" + +"I will!" said Gerald, blushing. "Somehow I've had such a lot on +hand--all day at the office, and something on every evening. I know +perfectly well I've neglected Eily--and everybody. But the first moment +I can find free--" + +Selwyn nodded. "And last of all," he said, "there's something about my +own affairs that I thought you might advise me on." + +Gerald, proud, enchanted, stood very straight; the older man continued +gravely: + +"I've a little capital to invest--not very much. Suppose--and this, I +need not add, is in confidence between us--suppose I suggested to Mr. +Neergard--" + +"Oh," cried young Erroll, delighted, "that is fine! Neergard would be +glad enough. Why, we've got that Valleydale tract in shape now, and +there are scores of schemes in the air--scores of them--important moves +which may mean--anything!" he ended, excitedly. + +"Then you think it would be all right--in case Neergard likes the idea?" + +Gerald was enthusiastic. After a while they shook hands, it being time +to separate. And for a long time Selwyn sat there alone in the visitors' +room, absent-eyed, facing the blazing fire of cannel coal. + +How to be friends with this boy without openly playing the mentor; how +to gain his confidence without appearing to seek it; how to influence +him without alarming him! No; there was no great harm in him yet; only +the impulse of inconsiderate youth; only an enthusiastic capacity for +pleasure. + +One thing was imperative--the boy must cut out his card-playing for +stakes at once; and there was a way to accomplish that by impressing +Gerald with the idea that to do anything behind Neergard's back which he +would not care to tell him about was a sort of treachery. + +Who were these people, anyway, who would permit a boy of that age, and +in a responsible position, to play for such stakes? Who were they to +encourage such--? + +Selwyn's tightening grasp on his chair suddenly relaxed; he sank back, +staring at the brilliant coals. He, too, had forgotten. + +Now he remembered, in humiliation unspeakable, in bitterness past all +belief. + +Time sped, and he sat there, motionless; and gradually the bitterness +became less perceptible as he drifted, intent on drifting, back through +the exotic sorcery of dead years--back into the sun again, where honour +was bright and life was young--where all the world awaited happy +conquest--where there was no curfew in the red evening glow; no end to +day, because the golden light had turned to silver; but where the +earliest hint of dawn was a challenge, and where every yellow star +whispered "Awake!" + +And out of the magic _she_ had come into his world again! + +Sooner or later he would meet her now. That was sure. When? Where? And +of what significance was it, after all? + +Whom did it concern? Him? Her? And what had he to say to her, after all? +Or she to him? + +Not one word. + + * * * * * + +About midnight he roused himself and picked up his hat and coat. + +"Do you wish a cab, please?" whispered the club servant who held his +coat; "it is snowing very hard, sir." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +UNDER THE ASHES + + +He had neither burned nor returned the photograph to Mrs. Ruthven. The +prospect perplexed and depressed Selwyn. + +He was sullenly aware that in a town where the divorced must ever be +reckoned with when dance and dinner lists are made out, there is always +some thoughtless hostess--and sometimes a mischievous one; and the +chances were that he and Mrs. Jack Ruthven would collide, either through +the forgetfulness or malice of somebody or, through sheer hazard, at +some large affair where Destiny and Fate work busily together in +criminal copartnership. + +And he encountered her first at a masque and revel given by Mrs. +Delmour-Carnes where Fate contrived that he should dance in the same set +with his _ci-devant_ wife before the unmasking, and where, unaware, they +gaily exchanged salute and hand-clasp before the jolly _melee_ of +unmasking revealed how close together two people could come after +parting for ever and a night at the uttermost ends of the earth. + +When masks at last were off there was neither necessity nor occasion for +the two surprised and rather pallid young people to renew civilities; +but later, Destiny, the saturnine partner in the business, interfered; +and some fool in the smoking room tried to introduce Selwyn to Ruthven. +The slightest mistake on their parts would have rendered the incident +ridiculous; and Ruthven made that mistake. + +That was Selwyn's first encounter with the Ruthvens. A short time +afterward at the opera Gerald dragged him into a parterre to say +something amiable to one of the debutante Craig girls--and Selwyn found +himself again facing Alixe. + +If there was any awkwardness it was not apparent, although they both +knew that they were in full view of the house. + +A cool bow and its cooler acknowledgment, a formal word and more formal +reply; and Selwyn made his way to the corridor, hot with vexation, +unaware of where he was going, and oblivious of the distressed and +apologetic young man, who so contritely kept step with him through the +brilliantly crowded promenade. + +That was the second time--not counting distant glimpses in crowded +avenues, in the Park, at Sherry's, or across the hazy glitter of +thronged theatres. But the third encounter was different. + +It was all a mistake, born of the haste of a heedless and elderly +matron, celebrated for managing to do the wrong thing, but who had been +excessively nice to him that winter, and whose position in Manhattan was +not to be assailed. + +"Dear Captain Selwyn," she wheezed over the telephone, "I'm short one +man; and we dine at eight and it's that now. _Could_ you help me? It's +the rich and yellow, this time, but you won't mind, will you?" + +Selwyn, standing at the lower telephone in the hall, asked her to hold +the wire a moment, and glanced up at his sister who was descending the +stairs with Eileen, dinner having at that instant been announced. + +"Mrs. T. West Minster--flying signals of distress," he said, carefully +covering the transmitter as he spoke; "man overboard, and will I kindly +take a turn at the wheel?" + +"What a shame!" said Eileen; "you are going to spoil the first home +dinner we have had together in weeks!" + +"Tell her to get some yellow pup!" growled Austin, from above. + +"As though anybody could get a yellow pup when they whistle," said Nina +hopelessly. + +"That's true," nodded Selwyn; "I'm the original old dog Tray. Whistle, +and I come padding up. Ever faithful, you see." + +And he uncovered the transmitter and explained to Mrs. T. West Minster +his absurd delight at being whistled at. Then he sent for a cab and +sauntered into the dining-room, where he was received with undisguised +hostility. + +"She's been civil to me," he said; "_jeunesse oblige_, you know. And +that's why I--" + +"There'll be a lot of debutantes there! What do you want to go for, you +cradle robber!" protested Austin--"a lot of water-bibbing, olive-eating, +talcum-powdered debutantes--" + +Eileen straightened up stiffly, and Selwyn's teasing smile and his +offered hand in adieu completed her indignation. + +"Oh, good-bye! No, I won't shake hands. There's your cab, now. I wish +you'd take Austin, too; Nina and I are tired of dining with the +prematurely aged." + +"Indeed, we are," said Mrs. Gerard; "go to your club, Austin, and give +me a chance to telephone to somebody under the anesthetic age." + +Selwyn departed, laughing, but he yawned in his cab all the way to +Fifty-third Street, where he entered in the wake of the usual laggards +and, surrendering hat and coat in the cloak room, picked up the small +slim envelope bearing his name. + +The card within disclosed the information that he was to take in Mrs. +Somebody-or-Other; he made his way through a great many people, found +his hostess, backed off, stood on one leg for a moment like a reflective +water-fowl, then found Mrs. Somebody-or-Other and was absently good to +her through a great deal of noise and some Spanish music, which seemed +to squirt through a thicket of palms and bespatter everybody. + +"Wonderful music," observed his dinner partner, with singular +originality; "_so_ like Carmen." + +"Is it?" he replied, and took her away at a nod from his hostess, whose +daughter Dorothy leaned forward from her partner's arm at the same +moment, and whispered: "I _must_ speak to you, mamma! You _can't_ put +Captain Selwyn there because--" + +But her mother was deaf and smilingly sensitive about it, so she merely +guessed what reply her child expected: "It's all settled, dear; Captain +Selwyn arrived a moment ago." And she closed the file. + +It was already too late, anyhow; and presently, turning to see who was +seated on his left, Selwyn found himself gazing into the calm, flushed +face of Alixe Ruthven. It was their third encounter. + +They exchanged a dazed nod of recognition, a meaningless murmur, and +turned again, apparently undisturbed, to their respective dinner +partners. + +A great many curious eyes, lingering on them, shifted elsewhere, in +reluctant disappointment. + +As for the hostess, she had, for one instant, come as near to passing +heavenward as she could without doing it when she discovered the +situation. Then she accepted it with true humour. She could afford to. +But her daughters, Sheila and Dorothy, suffered acutely, being of this +year's output and martyrs to responsibility. + +Meanwhile, Selwyn, grimly aware of an accident somewhere, and perfectly +conscious of the feelings which must by this time dominate his hostess, +was wondering how best to avoid anything that might resemble a +situation. + +Instead of two or three dozen small tables, scattered among the palms of +the winter garden, their hostess had preferred to construct a great oval +board around the aquarium. The arrangement made it a little easier for +Selwyn and Mrs. Ruthven. He talked to his dinner partner until she began +to respond in monosyllables, which closed each subject that he opened +and wearied him as much as he was boring her. But Bradley Harmon, the +man on her right, evidently had better fortune; and presently Selwyn +found himself with nobody to talk to, which came as near to embarrassing +him as anything could, and which so enraged his hostess that she struck +his partner's name from her lists for ever. People were already glancing +at him askance in sly amusement or cold curiosity. + +Then he did a thing which endeared him to Mrs. T. West Minster and to +her two disconsolate children. + +"Mrs. Ruthven," he said, very naturally and pleasantly, "I think perhaps +we had better talk for a moment or two--if you don't mind." + +She said quietly, "I don't mind," and turned with charming composure. +Every eye shifted to them, then obeyed decency or training; and the +slightest break in the gay tumult was closed up with chatter and +laughter. + +"Plucky," said Sandon Craig to his fair neighbour; "but by what chance +did our unfortunate hostess do it?" + +"She's usually doing it, isn't she? What occupies me," returned his +partner, "is how on earth Alixe could have thrown away that adorable man +for Jack Ruthven. Why, he is already trying to scramble into Rosamund +Fane's lap--the horrid little poodle!--always curled up on the edge of +your skirt!" + +She stared at Mrs. Ruthven across the crystal reservoir brimming with +rose and ivory-tinted water-lilies. + +"That girl is marked for destruction," she said slowly; "the gods have +done their work already." + +But whatever Alixe had been, whatever she now was, she showed to her +little world only a pale brunette symmetry--a strange and changeless +lustre, varying as little as the moon's phases; and like that burnt-out +planet, reflecting any flame that flared until her clear, young beauty +seemed pulsating with the promise of hidden fire. + +Selwyn, outwardly amiable and formal, was saying in a low voice: "My +dinner partner is quite impossible, you see; and I happen to be here as +a filler in--commanded to the presence only a few minutes ago. It's a +pardonable error; I bear no malice. But I'm sorry for you." + +There was a silence; Alixe straightened her slim figure, and turned; but +young Innis, who had taken her in, had become confidential with Mrs. +Fane. As for Selwyn's partner, she probably divined his conversational +designs on her, but she merely turned her bare shoulder a trifle more +unmistakably and continued her gossip with Bradley Harmon. + +Alixe broke a tiny morsel from her bread, sensible of the tension. + +"I suppose," she said, as though reciting to some new acquaintance an +amusing bit of gossip--"that we are destined to this sort of thing +occasionally and had better get used to it." + +"I suppose so." + +"Please," she added, after a pause, "aid me a little." + +"I will if I can. What am I to say?" + +"Have you nothing to say?" she asked, smiling; "it need not be very +civil, you know--as long as nobody hears you." + +To school his features for the deception of others, to school his voice +and manner and at the same time look smilingly into the grave of his +youth and hope called for the sort of self-command foreign to his +character. Glancing at him under her smoothly fitted mask of amiability, +she slowly grew afraid of the situation--but not of her ability to +sustain her own part. + +They exchanged a few meaningless phrases, then she resolutely took young +Innis away from Rosamund Fane, leaving Selwyn to count the bubbles in +his wine-glass. + +But in a few moments, whether by accident or deliberate design, Rosamund +interfered again, and Mrs. Ruthven was confronted with the choice of a +squabble for possession of young Innis, of conspicuous silence, or of +resuming once more with Selwyn. And she chose the last resort. + +"You are living in town?" she asked pleasantly. + +"Yes." + +"Of course; I forgot. I met a man last night who said you had entered +the firm of Neergard & Co." + +"I have. Who was the man?" + +"You can never guess, Captain Selwyn." + +"I don't want to. Who was he?" + +"Please don't terminate so abruptly the few subjects we have in reserve. +We may be obliged to talk to each other for a number of minutes if +Rosamund doesn't let us alone. . . . The man was 'Boots' Lansing." + +"'Boots!' Here!" + +"Arrived from Manila Sunday. _Sans gene_ as usual he introduced you as +the subject, and told me--oh, dozens of things about you. I suppose he +began inquiring for you before he crossed the troopers' gangplank; and +somebody sent him to Neergard & Co. Haven't you seen him?" + +"No," he said, staring at the brilliant fish, which glided along the +crystal tank, goggling their eyes at the lights. + +"You--you are living with the Gerards, I believe," she said carelessly. + +"For a while." + +"Oh, 'Boots' says that he is expecting to take an apartment with you +somewhere." + +"What! Has 'Boots' resigned?" + +"So he says. He told me that you had resigned. I did not understand +that; I imagined you were here on leave until I heard about Neergard & +Co." + +"Do you suppose I could have remained in the service?" he demanded. His +voice was dry and almost accentless. + +"Why not?" she returned, paling. + +"You may answer that question more pleasantly than I can." + +She usually avoided champagne; but she had to do something for herself +now. As for him, he took what was offered without noticing what he took, +and grew whiter and whiter; but a fixed glow gradually appeared and +remained on her cheeks; courage, impatience, a sudden anger at the +forced conditions steadied her nerves. + +"Will you please prove equal to the situation?" she said under her +breath, but with a charming smile. "Do you know you are scowling? These +people here are ready to laugh; and I'd much prefer that they tear us to +rags on suspicion of our over-friendliness." + +"Who is that fool woman who is monopolising your partner?" + +"Rosamund Fane; she's doing it on purpose. You must try to smile now and +then." + +"My face is stiff with grinning," he said, "but I'll do what I can for +you--" + +"Please include yourself, too." + +"Oh, I can stand their opinions," he said; "I only meet the yellow sort +occasionally; I don't herd with them." + +"I do, thank you." + +"How do you like them? What is your opinion of the yellow set? Here they +sit all about you--the Phoenix Mottlys, Mrs. Delmour-Carnes yonder, the +Draymores, the Orchils, the Vendenning lady, the Lawns of Westlawn--" he +paused, then deliberately--"and the 'Jack' Ruthvens. I forgot, Alixe, +that you are now perfectly equipped to carry aloft the golden hod." + +"Go on," she said, drawing a deep breath, but the fixed smile never +altered. + +"No," he said; "I can't talk. I thought I could, but I can't. Take that +boy away from Mrs. Fane as soon as you can." + +"I can't yet. You must go on. I ask your aid to carry this thing +through. I--I am afraid of their ridicule. Could you try to help me a +little?" + +"If you put it that way, of course." And, after a silence, "What am I to +say? What in God's name shall I say to you, Alixe?" + +"Anything bitter--as long as you control your voice and features. Try to +smile at me when you speak, Philip." + +"All right. I have no reason to be bitter, anyway," he said; "and every +reason to be otherwise." + +"That is not true. You tell me that I have ruined your career in the +army. I did not know I was doing it. Can you believe me?" + +And, as he made no response: "I did not dream you would have to resign. +Do you believe me?" + +"There is no choice," he said coldly. "Drop the subject!" + +"That is brutal. I never thought--" She forced a smile and drew her +glass toward her. The straw-tinted wine slopped over and frothed on the +white skin of her arm. + +"Well," she breathed, "this ghastly dinner is nearly ended." + +He nodded pleasantly. + +"And--Phil?"--a bit tremulous. + +"What?" + +"Was it all my fault? I mean in the beginning? I've wanted to ask you +that--to know your view of it. Was it?" + +"No. It was mine, most of it." + +"Not all--not half! We did not know how; that is the wretched +explanation of it all." + +"And we could never have learned; that's the rest of the answer. But the +fault is not there." + +"I know; 'better to bear the ills we have.'" + +"Yes; more respectable to bear them. Let us drop this in decency's name, +Alixe!" + +After a silence, she began: "One more thing--I must know it; and I am +going to ask you--if I may. Shall I?" + +He smiled cordially, and she laughed as though confiding a delightful +bit of news to him: + +"Do you regard me as sufficiently important to dislike me?" + +"I do not--dislike you." + +"Is it stronger than dislike, Phil?" + +"Y-es." + +"Contempt?" + +"No." + +"What is it?" + +"It is that--I have not yet--become--reconciled." + +"To my--folly?" + +"To mine." + +She strove to laugh lightly, and failing, raised her glass to her lips +again. + +"Now you know," he said, pitching his tones still lower. "I am glad +after all that we have had this plain understanding. I have never felt +unkindly toward you. I can't. What you did I might have prevented had I +known enough; but I cannot help it now; nor can you if you would." + +"If I would," she repeated gaily--for the people opposite were staring. + +"We are done for," he said, nodding carelessly to a servant to refill +his glass; "and I abide by conditions because I choose to; not," he +added contemptuously, "because a complacent law has tethered you to--to +the thing that has crawled up on your knees to have its ears rubbed." + +The level insult to her husband stunned her; she sat there, upright, the +white smile stamped on her stiffened lips, fingers tightening about the +stem of her wine-glass. + +He began to toss bread crumbs to the scarlet fish, laughing to himself +in an ugly way. "_I_ wish to punish you? Why, Alixe, only look at +_him_!--Look at his gold wristlets; listen to his simper, his lisp. +Little girl--oh, little girl, what have you done to yourself?--for you +have done nothing to me, child, that can match it in sheer atrocity!" + +Her colour was long in returning. + +"Philip," she said unsteadily, "I don't think I can stand this--" + +"Yes, you can." + +"I am too close to the wall. I--" + +"Talk to Scott Innis. Take him away from Rosamund Fane; that will tide +you over. Or feed those fool fish; like this! Look how they rush and +flap and spatter! That's amusing, isn't it--for people with the +intellects of canaries. . . . Will you please try to say something? Mrs. +T. West is exhibiting the restless symptoms of a hen turkey at sundown +and we'll all go to roost in another minute. . . . Don't shiver that +way!" + +"I c-can't control it; I will in a moment. . . . Give me a chance; talk +to me, Phil." + +"Certainly. The season has been unusually gay and the opera most +stupidly brilliant; stocks continue to fluctuate; another old woman +was tossed and gored by a mad motor this morning. . . . More time, +Alixe? . . . With pleasure; Mrs. Vendenning has bought a third-rate +castle in Wales; a man was found dead with a copy of the _Tribune_ in +his pocket--the verdict being in accordance with fact; the Panama +Canal--" + +But it was over at last; a flurry of sweeping skirts; ranks of black and +white in escort to the passage of the fluttering silken procession. + +"Good-bye," she said; "I am not staying for the dance." + +"Good-bye," he said pleasantly; "I wish you better fortune for the +future. I'm sorry I was rough." + +He was not staying, either. A dull excitement possessed him, resembling +suspense--as though he were awaiting a denouement; as though there was +yet some crisis to come. + +Several men leaned forward to talk to him; he heard without heeding, +replied at hazard, lighted his cigar with the others, and leaned back, +his coffee before him--a smiling, attractive young fellow, apparently in +lazy enjoyment of the time and place and without one care in the world +he found so pleasant. + +For a while his mind seemed to be absolutely blank; voices were voices +only; he saw lights, and figures moving through a void. Then reality +took shape sharply; and his pulses began again hammering out the +irregular measure of suspense, though what it was that he was awaiting, +what expecting, Heaven alone knew. + +And after a while he found himself in the ballroom. + +The younger set was arriving; he recognised several youthful people, +friends of Eileen Erroll; and taking his bearings among these bright, +fresh faces--amid this animated throng, constantly increased by the +arrival of others, he started to find his hostess, now lost to sight in +the breezy circle of silk and lace setting in from the stairs. + +He heard names announced which meant nothing to him, which stirred no +memory; names which sounded vaguely familiar; names which caused him to +turn quickly--but seldom were the faces as familiar as the names. + +He said to a girl, behind whose chair he was standing: "All the younger +brothers and sisters are coming here to confound me; I hear a Miss Innis +announced, but it turns out to be her younger sister--" + +"By the way, do you know my name?" she asked. + +"No," he said frankly, "do you know mine?" + +"Of course, I do; I listened breathlessly when somebody presented you +wholesale at your sister's the other day. I'm Rosamund Fane. You might +as well be instructed because you're to take me in at the Orchils' next +Thursday night, I believe." + +"Rosamund Fane," he repeated coolly. "I wonder how we've avoided each +other so consistently this winter? I never before had a good view of +you, though I heard you talking to young Innis at dinner. And yet," he +added, smiling, "if I had been instructed to look around and select +somebody named Rosamund, I certainly should have decided on you." + +"A compliment?" she asked, raising her delicate eyebrows. + +"Ask yourself," he said. + +"I do; and I get snubbed." + +And, smiling still, he said: "Do you know the most mischievous air that +Schubert ever worried us with?" + +"'Rosamund,'" she said; "and--thank you, Captain Selwyn." She had +coloured to the hair. + +"'Rosamund,'" he nodded carelessly--"the most mischievous of melodies--" +He stopped short, then coolly resumed: "That mischievous quality is +largely a matter of accident, I fancy. Schubert never meant that +'Rosamund' should interfere with anybody's business." + +"And--when did you first encounter the malice in 'Rosamund,' Captain +Selwyn?" she asked with perfect self-possession. + +He did not answer immediately; his smile had died out. Then: "The first +time I really understood 'Rosamund' was when I heard Rosamund during a +very delightful dinner." + +She said: "If a woman keeps at a man long enough she'll extract +compliments or yawns." And looking up at a chinless young man who had +halted near her: "George, Captain Selwyn has acquired such a charmingly +Oriental fluency during his residence in the East that I thought--if you +ever desired to travel again--" She shrugged, and, glancing at Selwyn: +"Have you met my husband? Oh, of course." + +They exchanged a commonplace or two, then other people separated them +without resistance on their part. And Selwyn found himself drifting, +mildly interested in the vapid exchange of civilities which cost nobody +a mental effort. + +His sister, he had once thought, was certainly the most delightfully +youthful matron in New York. But now he made an exception of Mrs. Fane; +Rosamund Fane was much younger--must have been younger, for she still +had something of that volatile freshness--that vague atmosphere of +immaturity clinging to her like a perfume almost too delicate to detect. +And under that the most profound capacity for mischief he had ever known +of. Sauntering amiably amid the glittering groups continually forming +and disintegrating under the clustered lights, he finally succeeded in +reaching his hostess. + +And Mrs. T. West Minster disengaged herself from the throng with +intention as he approached. + +No--and he was so sorry; and it was very amiable of his hostess to want +him, but he was not remaining for the dance. + +So much for the hostess, who stood there massive and gem-laden, her +kindly and painted features tinted now with genuine emotion. + +"_Je m'accuse, mon fils_!--but you acted like a perfect dear," she said. +"_Mea culpa, mea culpa_; and _can_ you forgive a very much mortified old +lady who is really and truly fond of you?" + +He laughed, holding her fat, ringed hands in both of his with all the +attractive deference that explained his popularity. Rising excitement +had sent the colour into his face and cleared his pleasant gray eyes; +and he looked very young and handsome, his broad shoulders bent a trifle +before the enamelled and bejewelled matron. + +"Forgive you?" he repeated with a laugh of protest; "on the contrary, I +thank you. Mrs. Ruthven is one of the most charming women I know, if +that is what you mean?" + +Looking after him as he made his way toward the cloak room: "The boy is +thoroughbred," she reflected cynically; "and the only amusement anybody +can get out of it will be at my expense! Rosamund is a perfect cat!" + + * * * * * + +He had sent for his cab, which, no doubt, was in line somewhere, wedged +among the ranks of carriages stretching east and west along the snowy +street; and he stood on the thick crimson carpet under the awning while +it was being summoned. A few people like himself were not staying for +the dance; others who had dined by prearrangement with other hostesses, +had now begun to arrive, and the confusion grew as coach and brougham +and motor came swaying up through the falling snow to deposit their +jewelled cargoes of silks and laces under the vast awning picketed by +policemen and lined with fur-swathed grooms and spindle-legged +chauffeurs in coats of pony-skin. + +The Cornelius Suydams, emerging from the house, offered Selwyn tonneau +room, but he smilingly declined, having a mind for solitude and the +Lenox Club. A phalanx of debutantes, opera bound, also left. Then the +tide set heavily the other way, and there seemed no end to the line of +arriving vehicles and guests, until he heard a name pronounced; a +policeman warned back an approaching Fiat; and Selwyn saw Mrs. Ruthven, +enveloped in white furs, step from the portal. + +She saw him as he moved back, nodded, passed directly to her brougham, +and set foot on the step. Pausing here, she looked about her, right and +left, then over her shoulder straight back at Selwyn; and as she stood +in silence evidently awaiting him, it became impossible for him any +longer to misunderstand without a public affront to her. + +When he started toward her she spoke to her maid, and the latter moved +aside with a word to the groom in waiting. + +"My maid will dismiss your carriage," she said pleasantly when he halted +beside her. "There is one thing more which I must say to you." + +Was this what he had expected hazard might bring to him?--was this the +prophecy of his hammering pulses? + +"Please hurry before people come out," she added, and entered the +brougham. + +"I can't do this," he muttered. + +"I've sent away my maid," she said. "Nobody has noticed; those are +servants out there. Will you please come before anybody arriving or +departing does notice?" + +And, as he did not move: "Are you going to make me conspicuous by this +humiliation before servants?" + +He said something between his set teeth and entered the brougham. + +"Do you know what you've done?" he demanded harshly. + +"Yes; nothing yet. But you would have done enough to stir this borough +if you had delayed another second." + +"Your maid saw--" + +"My maid is _my_ maid." + +He leaned back in his corner, gray eyes narrowing. + +"Naturally," he said, "you are the one to be considered, not the man in +the case." + +"Thank you. _Are_ you the man in the case?" + +"There is no case," he said coolly. + +"Then why worry about me?" + +He folded his arms, sullenly at bay; yet had no premonition of what to +expect from her. + +"You were very brutal to me," she said at length. + +"I know it; and I did not intend to be. The words came." + +"You had me at your mercy; and showed me little--a very little at first. +Afterward, none." + +"The words came," he repeated; "I'm sick with self-contempt, I tell +you." + +She set her white-gloved elbow on the window sill and rested her chin in +her palm. + +"That--money," she said with an effort. "You set--some--aside for me." + +"Half," he nodded calmly. + +"Why?" + +He was silent. + +"_Why_? I did not ask for it? There was nothing in the--the legal +proceedings to lead you to believe that I desired it; was there?" + +"No." + +"Well, then," her breath came unsteadily, "what was there in _me_ to +make you think I would accept it?" + +He did not reply. + +"Answer me. This is the time to answer me." + +"The answer is simple enough," he said in a low voice. "Together we had +made a failure of partnership. When that partnership was dissolved, +there remained the joint capital to be divided. And I divided it. Why +not?" + +"That capital was yours in the beginning; not mine. What I had of my own +you never controlled; and I took it with me when I went." + +"It was very little," he said. + +"What of that? Did that concern you? Did you think I would have accepted +anything from you? A thousand times I have been on the point of +notifying you through attorney that the deposit now standing in my name +is at your disposal." + +"Why didn't you notify me then?" he asked, reddening to the temples. + +"Because--I did not wish to hurt you--by doing it that way. . . . And I +had not the courage to say it kindly over my own signature. That is why, +Captain Selwyn." + +And, as he remained silent: "That is what I had to say; not +all--because--I wish to--to thank you for offering it. . . . You did not +have very much, either; and you divided what you had. So I thank +you--and I return it.". . . The tension forced her to attempt a laugh. +"So we stand once more on equal terms; unless you have anything of mine +to return--" + +"I have your photograph," he said. + +The silence lasted until he straightened up and, rubbing the fog from +the window glass, looked out. + +"We are in the Park," he remarked, turning toward her. + +"Yes; I did not know how long it might take to explain matters. You are +free of me now whenever you wish." + +He picked up the telephone, hesitated: "Home?" he inquired with an +effort. And at the forgotten word they looked at one another in stricken +silence. + +"Y-yes; to _your_ home first, if you will let me drop you there--" + +"Thank you; that might be imprudent." + +"No, I think not. You say you are living at the Gerards?" + +"Yes, temporarily. But I've already taken another place." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, it's only a bachelor's kennel--a couple of rooms--" + +"Where, please?" + +"Near Lexington and Sixty-sixth. I could go there; it's only partly +furnished yet--" + +"Then tell Hudson to drive there." + +"Thank you, but it is not necessary--" + +"Please let me; tell Hudson, or I will." + +"You are very kind," he said; and gave the order. + +Silence grew between them like a wall. She lay back in her corner, +swathed to the eyes in her white furs; he in his corner sat upright, +arms loosely folded, staring ahead at nothing. After a while he rubbed +the moisture from the pane again. + +"Still in the Park! He must have driven us nearly to Harlem Mere. It +_is_ the Mere! See the cafe lights yonder. It all looks rather gay +through the snow." + +"Very gay," she said, without moving. And, a moment later: "Will you +tell me something? . . . You see"--with a forced laugh--"I can't keep my +mind--from it." + +"From what?" he asked. + +"The--tragedy; ours." + +"It has ceased to be that; hasn't it?" + +"Has it? You said--you said that w-what I did to you was n-not as +terrible as what I d-did to myself." + +"That is true," he admitted grimly. + +"Well, then, may I ask my question?" + +"Ask it, child." + +"Then--are you happy?" + +He did not answer. + +"--Because I desire it, Philip. I want you to be. You will be, won't +you? I did not dream that I was ruining your army career when I--went +mad--" + +"How did it happen, Alixe?" he asked, with a cold curiosity that chilled +her. "How did it come about?--wretched as we seemed to be +together--unhappy, incapable of understanding each other--" + +"Phil! There _were_ days--" + +He raised his eyes. + +"You speak only of the unhappy ones," she said; "but there were +moments--" + +"Yes; I know it. And so I ask you, _why_?" + +"Phil, I don't know. There was that last bitter quarrel--the night you +left for Leyte after the dance. . . . I--it all grew suddenly +intolerable. _You_ seemed so horribly unreal--everything seemed unreal +in that ghastly city--you, I, our marriage of crazy impulse--the people, +the sunlight, the deathly odours, the torturing, endless creak of the +punkha. . . . It was not a question of--of love, of anger, of hate. I +tell you I was stunned--I had no emotions concerning you or +myself--after that last scene--only a stupefied, blind necessity to get +away; a groping instinct to move toward home--to make my way home and be +rid for ever of the dream that drugged me! . . . And then--and then--" + +"_He_ came," said Selwyn very quietly. "Go on." + +But she had nothing more to say. + +"Alixe!" + +She shook her head, closing her eyes. + +"Little girl!--oh, little girl!" he said softly, the old familiar phrase +finding its own way to his lips--and she trembled slightly; "was there +no other way but that? Had marriage made the world such a living hell +for you that there was no other way but _that_?" + +"Phil, I helped to make it a hell." + +"Yes--because I was pitiably inadequate to design anything better for +us. I didn't know how. I didn't understand. I, the architect of our +future--failed." + +"It was worse than that, Phil; we"--she looked blindly at him--"we had +yet to learn what love might be. We did not know. . . . If we could have +waited--only waited!--perhaps--because there _were_ moments--" She +flushed crimson. + +"I could not make you love me," he repeated; "I did not know how." + +"Because you yourself had not learned how. But--at times--now looking +back to it--I think--I think we were very near to it--at moments. . . . +And then that dreadful dream closed down on us again. . . . And +then--the end." + +"If you could have held out," he breathed; "if I could have helped! It +was I who failed you after all!" + +For a long while they sat in silence; Mrs. Ruthven's white furs now +covered her face. At last the carriage stopped. + +As he sprang to the curb he became aware of another vehicle standing in +front of the house--a cab--from which Mrs. Ruthven's maid descended. + +"What is she doing here?" he asked, turning in astonishment to Mrs. +Ruthven. + +"Phil," she said in a low voice, "I knew you had taken this place. +Gerald told me. Forgive me--but when I saw you under the awning it came +to me in a flash what to do. And I've done it. . . . Are you sorry?" + +"No. . . . Did Gerald tell you that I had taken this place?" + +"Yes; I asked him." + +Selwyn looked at her gravely; and she looked him very steadily in the +eyes. + +"Before I go--may I say one more word?" he asked gently. + +"Yes--if you please. Is it about Gerald?" + +"Yes. Don't let him gamble. . . . You saw the signature on that check?" + +"Yes, Phil." + +"Then you understand. Don't let him do it again." + +"No. And--Phil?" + +"What?" + +"That check is--is deposited to your credit--with the rest. I have never +dreamed of using it." Her cheeks were afire again, but with shame this +time. + +"You will have to accept it, Alixe." + +"I cannot." + +"You must! Don't you see you will affront Gerald? He has repaid me; that +check is not mine, nor is it his." + +"I can't take it," she said with a shudder. "What shall I do with it?" + +"There are ways--hospitals, if you care to. . . . Good-night, child." + +She stretched out her gloved arm to him; he took her hand very gently +and retained it while he spoke. + +"I wish you happiness," he said; "I ask your forgiveness." + +"Give me mine, then." + +"Yes--if there is anything to forgive. Good-night." + +"Good-night--boy," she gasped. + +He turned sharply, quivering under the familiar name. Her maid, standing +in the snow, moved forward, and he motioned her to enter the brougham. + +"Home," he said unsteadily; and stood there very still for a minute or +two, even after the carriage had whirled away into the storm. Then, +looking up at the house, he felt for his keys; but a sudden horror of +being alone arrested him, and he stepped back, calling out to his +cabman, who was already turning his horse's head, "Wait a moment; I +think I'll drive back to Mrs. Gerard's. . . . And take your time." + + * * * * * + +It was still early--lacking a quarter of an hour to midnight--when he +arrived. Nina had retired, but Austin sat in the library, obstinately +plodding through the last chapters of a brand-new novel. + +"This is a wretched excuse for sitting up," he yawned, laying the book +flat on the table, but still open. "I ought never to be trusted alone +with any book." Then he removed his reading glasses, yawned again, and +surveyed Selwyn from head to foot. + +"Very pretty," he said. "Well, how are the yellow ones, Phil? Or was it +all debutante and slop-twaddle?" + +"Few from the cradle, but bunches were arriving for the dance as I +left." + +"Eileen went at half-past eleven." + +"I didn't know she was going," said Selwyn, surprised. + +"She didn't want you to. The Playful Kitten business, you know--frisks +apropos of nothing to frisk about. But we all fancied you'd stay for the +dance." He yawned mightily, and gazed at Selwyn with ruddy gravity. + +"Whisk?" he inquired. + +"No." + +"Cigar?"--mildly urgent. + +"No, thanks." + +"Bed?" + +"I think so. But don't wait for me, Austin. . . . Is that the evening +paper? Where is St. Paul?" + +Austin passed it across the table and sat for a moment, alternately +yawning and skimming the last chapter of his novel. + +"Stuff and rubbish, mush and piffle!" he muttered, closing the book and +pushing it from him across the table; "love, as usual, grossly out of +proportion to the ensemble. That theory of the earth's rotation, you +know; all these absurd books are built on it. Why do men read 'em? They +grin when they do it! Love is only the sixth sense--just one-sixth of a +man's existence. The other five-sixths of his time he's using his other +senses working for a living." + +Selwyn looked up over his newspaper, then lowered and folded it. + +"In these novels," continued Gerard, irritably, "five-sixths of the +pages are devoted to love; everything else is subordinated to it; it +controls all motives, it initiates all action, it drugs reason, it +prolongs the tuppenny suspense, sustains cheap situations, and produces +agonisingly profitable climaxes for the authors. . . . Does it act that +way in real life?" + +"Not usually," said Selwyn. + +"Nobody else thinks so, either. Why doesn't somebody tell the truth? Why +doesn't somebody tell us how a man sees a nice girl and gradually begins +to tag after her when business hours are over? A respectable man is busy +from eight or nine until five or six. In the evening he's usually at the +club, or dining out, or asleep; isn't he? Well, then, how much time +does it leave for love? Do the problem yourself in any way you wish; the +result is a fraction every time; and that fraction represents the proper +importance of the love interest in its proper ratio to a man's entire +life." + +He sat up, greatly pleased with himself at having reduced sentiment to a +fixed proportion in the ingredients of life. + +"If I had time," he said, "I could tell them how to write a book--" He +paused, musing, while the confident smile spread. Selwyn stared at +space. + +"What does a young man know about love, anyway?" demanded his +brother-in-law. + +"Nothing," replied Selwyn listlessly. + +"Of course not. Look at Gerald. He sits on the stairs with a pink and +white ninny; and at the next party he does it with another. That's +wholesome and natural; and that's the way things really are. Look at +Eileen. Do you suppose she has the slightest suspicion of what love is?" + +"Naturally not," said Selwyn. + +"Correct. Only a fool novelist would attribute the deeper emotions to a +child like that. What does she know about anything? Love isn't a mere +emotion, either--that is all fol-de-rol and fizzle!--it's the false +basis of modern romance. Love is reason--not a nervous phenomenon. Love +is a sane passion, founded on a basic knowledge of good and evil. That's +what love is; the rest!"--he lifted the book, waved it contemptuously, +and pushed it farther away--"the rest is neuritis; the remedy a pill. +I'm going to bed; are you?" + +But Selwyn had lighted a cigar, and was again unfolding his evening +paper; so his brother-in-law moved ponderously away, yawning frightfully +at every heavy stride, and the younger man settled back in his chair, a +fragrant cigar balanced between his strong, slim fingers, one leg +dropped loosely over the other. After a while the newspaper fell to the +floor. + +He sat there without moving for a long time; his cigar, burning close, +had gone out. The reading-lamp spread a circle of soft light over the +floor; on the edge of it lay Kit-Ki, placid, staring at him. After a +while he noticed her. "You?" he said absently; "you hid so they couldn't +put you out." + +At the sound of his voice she began to purr. + +"Oh, it's all very well," he nodded; "but it's against the law. +However," he added, "I'm rather tired of rules and regulations myself. +Besides, the world outside is very cold to-night. Purr away, old lady; +I'm going to bed." + +But he did not stir. + +A little later, the fire having burned low, he rose, laid a pair of +heavy logs across the coals, dragged his chair to the hearth, and +settled down in it deeply. Then he lifted the cat to his knees. Kit-Ki +sang blissfully, spreading and relaxing her claws at intervals as she +gazed at the mounting blaze. + +"I'm going to bed, Kit-Ki," he repeated absently, "because that's a +pretty good place for me . . . far better than sitting up here with +you--and conscience." + +But he only lay back deeper in the velvet chair and lighted another +cigar. + +"Kit-Ki," he said, "the words men utter count in the reckoning; but not +as heavily as the words men leave unuttered; and what a man does scores +deeply; but--alas for the scars of the deeds he has left undone." + +The logs were now wrapped in flame, and their low mellow roaring +mingled to a monotone with the droning of the cat on his knees. + +Long after his cigar burnt bitter, he sat with eyes fixed on the blaze. +When the flames at last began to flicker and subside, his lids +fluttered, then drooped; but he had lost all reckoning of time when he +opened them again to find Miss Erroll in furs and ball-gown kneeling on +the hearth and heaping kindling on the coals, and her pretty little +Alsatian maid beside her, laying a log across the andirons. + +"Upon my word!" he murmured, confused; then rising quickly, "Is that +you, Miss Erroll? What time is it?" + +"Four o'clock in the morning, Captain Selwyn," she said, straightening +up to her full height. "This room is icy; are you frozen?" + +Chilled through, he stood looking about in a dazed way, incredulous of +the hour and of his own slumber. + +"I was conversing with Kit-Ki a moment ago," he protested, in such a +tone of deep reproach that Eileen laughed while her maid relieved her of +furs and scarf. + +"Susanne, just unhook those two that I can't manage; light the fire in +my bedroom; _et merci bien, ma petite!_" + +The little maid vanished; Kit-Ki, who had been unceremoniously spilled +from Selwyn's knees, sat yawning, then rose and walked noiselessly to +the hearth. + +"I don't know how I happened to do it," he muttered, still abashed by +his plight. + +"We rekindled the fire for your benefit," she said; "you had better use +it before you retire." And she seated herself in the arm-chair, +stretching out her ungloved hands to the blaze--smooth, innocent hands, +so soft, so amazingly fresh and white. + +He moved a step forward into the warmth, stood a moment, then reached +forward for a chair and drew it up beside hers. + +"Do you mean to say you are not sleepy?" he asked. + +"I? No, not in the least. I will be to-morrow, though." + +"Did you have a good time?" + +"Yes--rather." + +"Wasn't it gay?" + +"Gay? Oh, very." + +Her replies were unusually short--almost preoccupied. She was generally +more communicative. + +"You danced a lot, I dare say," he ventured. + +"Yes--a lot," studying the floor. + +"Decent partners?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Who was there?" + +She looked up at him. "_You_ were not there," she said, smiling. + +"No; I cut it. But I did not know you were going; you said nothing about +it." + +"Of course, you would have stayed if you had known, Captain Selwyn?" She +was still smiling. + +"Of course," he replied. + +"Would you really?" + +"Why, yes." + +There was something not perfectly familiar to him in the girl's bright +brevity, in her direct personal inquiry; for between them, hitherto, the +gaily impersonal had ruled except in moments of lightest badinage. + +"Was it an amusing dinner?" she asked, in her turn. + +"Rather." Then he looked up at her, but she had stretched her slim +silk-shod feet to the fender, and her head was bent aside, so that he +could see only the curve of the cheek and the little close-set ear +under its ruddy mass of gold. + +"Who was there?" she asked, too, carelessly. + +For a moment he did not speak; under his bronzed cheek the flat muscles +stirred. Had some meddling, malicious fool ventured to whisper an unfit +jest to this young girl? Had a word--or a smile and a phrase cut in +two--awakened her to a sorry wisdom at his expense? Something had +happened; and the idea stirred him to wrath--as when a child is wantonly +frightened or a dumb creature misused. + +"What did you ask me?" he inquired gently. + +"I asked you who was there, Captain Selwyn." + +He recalled some names, and laughingly mentioned his dinner partner's +preference for Harmon. She listened absently, her chin nestling in her +palm, only the close-set, perfect ear turned toward him. + +"Who led the cotillion?" he asked. + +"Jack Ruthven--dancing with Rosamund Fane." + +She drew her feet from the fender and crossed them, still turned away +from him; and so they remained in silence until again she shifted her +position, almost impatiently. + +"You are very tired," he said. + +"No; wide awake." + +"Don't you think it best for you to go to bed?" + +"No. But you may go." + +And, as he did not stir: "I mean that you are not to sit here because I +do." And she looked around at him. + +"What has gone wrong, Eileen?" he said quietly. + +He had never before used her given name, and she flushed up. + +"There is nothing the matter, Captain Selwyn. Why do you ask?" + +"Yes, there is," he said. + +"There is not, I tell you--" + +"--And, if it is something you cannot understand," he continued +pleasantly, "perhaps it might be well to ask Nina to explain it to you." + +"There is nothing to explain." + +"--Because," he went on, very gently, "one is sometimes led by malicious +suggestion to draw false and unpleasant inferences from harmless +facts--" + +"Captain Selwyn--" + +"Yes, Eileen." + +But she could not go on; speech and thought itself remained sealed; only +a confused consciousness of being hurt remained--somehow to be remedied +by something he might say--might deny. Yet how could it help her for him +to deny what she herself refused to believe?--refused through sheer +instinct while ignorant of its meaning. + +Even if he had done what she heard Rosamund Fane say he had done, it had +remained meaningless to her save for the manner of the telling. But +now--but now! Why had they laughed--why had their attitudes and manner +and the disconnected phrases in French left her flushed and rigid among +the idle group at supper? Why had they suddenly seemed to remember her +presence--and express their abrupt consciousness of it in such furtive +signals and silence? + +It was false, anyway--whatever it meant. And, anyway, it was false that +he had driven away in Mrs. Ruthven's brougham. But, oh, if he had only +stayed--if he had only remained!--this friend of hers who had been so +nice to her from the moment he came into her life--so generous, so +considerate, so lovely to her--and to Gerald! + +For a moment the glow remained, then a chill doubt crept in; would he +have remained had he known she was to be there? _Where_ did he go after +the dinner? As for what they said, it was absurd. And yet--and yet-- + +He sat, savagely intent upon the waning fire; she turned restlessly +again, elbows close together on her knees, face framed in her hands. + +"You ask me if I am tired," she said. "I am--of the froth of life." + +His face changed instantly. "What?" he exclaimed, laughing. + +But she, very young and seriously intent, was now wrestling with the +mighty platitudes of youth. First of all she desired to know what +meaning life held for humanity. Then she expressed a doubt as to the +necessity for human happiness; duty being her discovery as sufficient +substitute. + +But he heard in her childish babble the minor murmur of an undercurrent +quickening for the first time; and he listened patiently and answered +gravely, touched by her irremediable loneliness. + +For Nina must remain but a substitute at best; what was wanting must +remain wanting; and race and blood must interpret for itself the subtler +and unasked questions of an innocence slowly awaking to a wisdom which +makes us all less wise. + +So when she said that she was tired of gaiety, that she would like to +study, he said that he would take up anything she chose with her. And +when she spoke vaguely of a life devoted to good works--of the wiser +charity, of being morally equipped to aid those who required material +aid, he was very serious, but ventured to suggest that she dance her +first season through as a sort of flesh-mortifying penance preliminary +to her spiritual novitiate. + +"Yes," she admitted thoughtfully; "you are right. Nina would feel +dreadfully if I did not go on--or if she imagined I cared so little for +it all. But one season is enough to waste. Don't you think so?" + +"Quite enough," he assured her. + +"--And--why should I ever marry?" she demanded, lifting her clear, sweet +eyes to his. + +"Why indeed?" he repeated with conviction. "I can see no reason." + +"I am glad you understand me," she said. "I am not a marrying woman." + +"Not at all," he assured her. + +"No, I am not; and Nina--the darling--doesn't understand. Why, what do +you suppose!--but _would_ it be a breach of confidence to anybody if I +told you?" + +"I doubt it," he said; "what is it you have to tell me?" + +"Only--it's very, very silly--only several men--and one nice enough to +know better--Sudbury Gray--" + +"Asked you to marry them?" he finished, nodding his head at the cat. + +"Yes," she admitted, frankly astonished; "but how did you know?" + +"Inferred it. Go on." + +"There is nothing more," she said, without embarrassment. "I told Nina +each time; but she confused me by asking for details; and the details +were too foolish and too annoying to repeat. . . . I do not wish to +marry anybody. I think I made that very plain to--everybody." + +"Right as usual," he said cheerfully; "you are too intelligent to +consider that sort of thing just now." + +"You _do_ understand me, don't you?" she said gratefully. "There are so +many serious things in life to learn and to think of, and that is the +very last thing I should ever consider. . . . I am very, very glad I had +this talk with you. Now I am rested and I shall retire for a good long +sleep." + +With which paradox she stood up, stifling a tiny yawn, and looked +smilingly at him, all the old sweet confidence in her eyes. Then, +suddenly mocking: + +"Who suggested that you call me by my first name?" she asked. + +"Some good angel or other. May I?" + +"If you please; I rather like it. But I couldn't very well call you +anything except 'Captain Selwyn.'" + +"On account of my age?" + +"Your _age_!"--contemptuous in her confident equality. + +"Oh, my wisdom, then? You probably reverence me too deeply." + +"Probably not. I don't know; I couldn't do it--somehow--" + +"Try it--unless you're afraid." + +"I'm not afraid!" + +"Yes, you are, if you don't take a dare." + +"You dare me?" + +"I do." + +"Philip," she said, hesitating, adorable in her embarrassment. "No! No! +No! I can't do it that way in cold blood. It's got to be 'Captain +Selwyn'. . . for a while, anyway. . . . Good-night." + +He took her outstretched hand, laughing; the usual little friendly shake +followed; then she turned gaily away, leaving him standing before the +whitening ashes. + +He thought the fire was dead; but when he turned out the lamp an hour +later, under the ashes embers glowed in the darkness of the winter +morning. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +MID-LENT + + +"Mid-Lent, and the Enemy grins," remarked Selwyn as he started for +church with Nina and the children. Austin, knee-deep in a dozen Sunday +supplements, refused to stir; poor little Eileen was now convalescent +from grippe, but still unsteady on her legs; her maid had taken the +grippe, and now moaned all day: "_Mon dieu! Mon dieu! Che fais mourir!_" + +Boots Lansing called to see Eileen, but she wouldn't come down, saying +her nose was too pink. Drina entertained Boots, and then Selwyn returned +and talked army talk with him until tea was served. Drina poured tea +very prettily; Nina had driven Austin to vespers. The family dined at +seven so Drina could sit up; special treat on account of Boots's +presence at table. Gerald was expected, but did not come. + +The next morning, Selwyn went downtown at the usual hour and found +Gerald, pale and shaky, hanging over his desk and trying to dictate +letters to an uncomfortable stenographer. + +So he dismissed the abashed girl for the moment, closed the door, and +sat down beside the young man. + +"Go home, Gerald" he said with decision; "when Neergard comes in I'll +tell him you are not well. And, old fellow, don't ever come near the +office again when you're in this condition." + +"I'm a perfect fool," faltered the boy, his voice trembling; "I don't +really care for that sort of thing, either; but you know how it is in +that set--" + +"What set?" + +"Oh, the Fanes--the Ruthv--" He stammered himself into silence. + +"I see. What happened last night?" + +"The usual; two tables full of it. There was a wheel, too. . . . I had +no intention--but you know yourself how it parches your throat--the +jollying and laughing and excitement. . . . I forgot all about what +you--what we talked over. . . . I'm ashamed and sorry; but I can stay +here and attend to things, of course--" + +"I don't want Neergard to see you," repeated Selwyn. + +"W-why," stammered the boy, "do I look as rocky as that?" + +"Yes. See here, you are not afraid of me, are you?" + +"No--" + +"You don't think I'm one of those long-faced, blue-nosed butters-in, do +you? You have confidence in me, haven't you? You know I'm an average and +normally sinful man who has made plenty of mistakes and who understands +how others make them--you know that, don't you, old chap?" + +"Y-es." + +"Then you _will_ listen, won't you, Gerald?" + +The boy laid his arms on the desk and hid his face in them. Then he +nodded. + +For ten minutes Selwyn talked to him with all the terse and colloquial +confidence of a comradeship founded upon respect for mutual fallibility. +No instruction, no admonition, no blame, no reproach--only an +affectionately logical review of matters as they stood--and as they +threatened to stand. + +The boy, fortunately, was still pliable and susceptible, still unalarmed +and frank. It seemed that he had lost money again--this time to Jack +Ruthven; and Selwyn's teeth remained sternly interlocked as, bit by bit, +the story came out. But in the telling the boy was not quite as frank as +he might have been; and Selwyn supposed he was able to stand his loss +without seeking aid. + +"Anyway," said Gerald in a muffled voice, "I've learned one lesson--that +a business man can't acquire the habits and keep the infernal hours that +suit people who can take all day to sleep it off." + +"Right," said Selwyn. + +"Besides, my income can't stand it," added Gerald naively. + +"Neither could mine, old fellow. And, Gerald, cut out this card +business; it's the final refuge of the feebleminded. . . . You like it? +Oh, well, if you've got to play--if you've no better resource for +leisure, and if non-participation isolates you too completely from other +idiots--play the imbecile gentleman's game; which means a game where +nobody need worry over the stakes." + +"But--they'd laugh at me!" + +"I know; but Boots Lansing wouldn't--and you have considerable respect +for him." + +Gerald nodded; he had immediately succumbed to Lansing like everybody +else. + +"And one thing more," said Selwyn; "don't play for stakes--no matter how +insignificant--where women sit in the game. Fashionable or not, it is +rotten sport--whatever the ethics may be. And, Gerald, tainted sport and +a clean record can't take the same fence together." + +The boy looked up, flushed and perplexed. "Why, every woman in town--" + +"Oh, no. How about your sister and mine?" + +"Of course not; they are different. Only--well, you approve of Rosamund +Fane and--Gladys Orchil--don't you?" + +"Gerald, men don't ask each other such questions--except as you ask, +without expecting or desiring an answer from me, and merely to be saying +something nice about two pretty women." + +The reproof went home, deeply, but without a pang; and the boy sat +silent, studying the blotter between his elbows. + +A little later he started for home at Selwyn's advice. But the memory of +his card losses frightened him, and he stopped on the way to see what +money Austin would advance him. + +Julius Neergard came up from Long Island, arriving at the office about +noon. The weather was evidently cold on Long Island; he had the +complexion of a raw ham, but the thick, fat hand, with its bitten nails, +which he offered Selwyn as he entered his office, was unpleasantly hot, +and, on the thin nose which split the broad expanse of face, a bead or +two of sweat usually glistened, winter and summer. + +"Where's Gerald?" he asked as an office-boy relieved him of his heavy +box coat and brought his mail to him. + +"I advised Gerald to go home," observed Selwyn carelessly; "he is not +perfectly well." + +Neergard's tiny mouse-like eyes, set close together, stole brightly in +Selwyn's direction; but they usually looked just a little past a man, +seldom at him. + +"Grippe?" he asked. + +"I don't think so," said Selwyn. + +"Lots of grippe 'round town," observed Neergard, as though satisfied +that Gerald had it. Then he sat down and rubbed his large, membranous +ears. + +"Captain Selwyn," he began, "I'm satisfied that it's a devilish good +thing." + +"Are you?" + +"Emphatically. I've mastered the details--virtually all of 'em. Here's +the situation in a grain of wheat!--the Siowitha Club owns a thousand or +so acres of oak scrub, pine scrub, sand and weeds, and controls four +thousand more; that is to say--the club pays the farmers' rents and +fixes their fences and awards them odd jobs and prizes for the farm +sustaining the biggest number of bevies. Also the club pays them to +maintain the millet and buckwheat patches and to act as wardens. In +return the farmers post their four thousand acres for the exclusive +benefit of the club. Is that plain?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Very well, then. Now the Siowitha is largely composed of very rich +men--among them Bradley Harmon, Jack Ruthven, George Fane, Sanxon +Orchil, the Hon. Delmour-Carnes--_that_ crowd--rich and stingy. That's +why they are contented with a yearly agreement with the farmers instead +of buying the four thousand acres. Why put a lot of good money out of +commission when they can draw interest on it and toss an insignificant +fraction of that interest as a sop to the farmers? Do you see? That's +your millionaire method--and it's what makes 'em in the first place." + +He drew a large fancy handkerchief from his pistol-pocket and wiped the +beads from the bridge of his limber nose. But they reappeared again. + +"Now," he said, "I am satisfied that, working very carefully, we can +secure options on every acre of the four thousand. There is money in it +either way and any way we work it; we get it coming and going. First of +all, if the Siowitha people find that they really cannot get on without +controlling these acres--why"--and he snickered so that his nose curved +into a thin, ruddy beak--"why, Captain, I suppose we _could_ let them +have the land. Eh? Oh, yes--if they _must_ have it!" + +Selwyn frowned slightly. + +"But the point is," continued Neergard, "that it borders the railroad on +the north; and where the land is not wavy it's flat as a pancake, +and"--he sank his husky voice--"it's fairly riddled with water. I paid a +thousand dollars for six tests." + +"Water!" repeated Selwyn wonderingly; "why, it's dry as a desert!" + +"_Underground water_!--only about forty feet on the average. Why, man, I +can hit a well flowing three thousand gallons almost anywhere. It's a +gold mine. I don't care what you do with the acreage--split it up into +lots and advertise, or club the Siowitha people into submission--it's +all the same; it's a gold mine--to be swiped and developed. Now there +remains the title searching and the damnable job of financing +it--because we've got to move cautiously, and knock softly at the doors +of the money vaults, or we'll be waking up some Wall Street relatives or +secret business associates of the yellow crowd; and if anybody bawls +for help we'll be up in the air next New Year's, and still hiking +skyward." + +He stood up, gathering together the mail matter which his secretary had +already opened for his attention. "There's plenty of time yet; their +leases were renewed the first of this year, and they'll run the year +out. But it's something to think about. Will you talk to Gerald, or +shall I?" + +"You," said Selwyn. "I'll think the matter over and give you my opinion. +May I speak to my brother-in-law about it?" + +Neergard turned in his tracks and looked almost at him. + +"Do you think there's any chance of his financing the thing?" + +"I haven't the slightest idea of what he might do. Especially"--he +hesitated--"as you never have had any loans from his people--I +understand--" + +"No," said Neergard; "I haven't." + +"It's rather out of their usual, I believe--" + +"So they say. But Long Island acreage needn't beg favours now. That's +all over, Captain Selwyn. Fane, Harmon & Co. know that; Mr. Gerard ought +to know it, too." + +Selwyn looked troubled. "Shall I consult Mr. Gerard?" he repeated. "I +should like to if you have no objection." + +Neergard's small, close-set eyes were focused on a spot just beyond +Selwyn's left shoulder. + +"Suppose you sound him," he suggested, "in strictest--" + +"Naturally," cut in Selwyn dryly; and turning to his littered desk, +opened the first letter his hand encountered. Now that his head was +turned, Neergard looked full at the back of his neck for a long minute, +then went out silently. + + * * * * * + +That night Selwyn stopped at his sister's house before going to his own +rooms, and, finding Austin alone in the library, laid the matter before +him exactly as Neergard had put it. + +"You see," he added, "that I'm a sort of an ass about business methods. +What I like--what I understand, is to use good judgment, go in and +boldly buy a piece of property, wait until it becomes more valuable, +either through improvements or the natural enhancement of good value, +then take a legitimate profit, and repeat the process. That, in outline, +is what I understand. But, Austin, this furtive pouncing on a thing and +clubbing other people's money out of them with it--this slyly acquiring +land that is necessary to an unsuspecting neighbour and then holding him +up--I don't like. There's always something of this sort that prevents my +cordial co-operation with Neergard--always something in the schemes +which hints of--of squeezing--of something underground--" + +"Like the water which he's going to squeeze out of the wells?" + +Selwyn laughed. + +"Phil," said his brother-in-law, "if you think anybody can do a +profitable business except at other people's expense, you are an ass." + +"Am I?" asked Selwyn, still laughing frankly. + +"Certainly. The land is there, plain enough for anybody to see. It's +always been there; it's likely to remain for a few aeons, I fancy. + +"Now, along comes Meynheer Julius Neergard--the only man who seems to +have brains enough to see the present value of that parcel to the +Siowitha people. Everybody else had the same chance; nobody except +Neergard knew enough to take it. Why shouldn't he profit by it?" + +"Yes--but if he'd be satisfied to cut it up into lots and do what is +fair--" + +"Cut it up into nothing! Man alive, do you suppose the Siowitha people +would let him? They've only a few thousand acres; they've _got_ to +control that land. What good is their club without it? Do you imagine +they'd let a town grow up on three sides of their precious +game-preserve? And, besides, I'll bet you that half of their streams and +lakes take rise on other people's property--and that Neergard knows +it--the Dutch fox!" + +"That sort of--of business--that kind of coercion, does not appeal to +me," said Selwyn gravely. + +"Then you'd better go into something besides business in this town," +observed Austin, turning red. "Good Lord, man, where would my Loan and +Trust Company be if we never foreclosed, never swallowed a good thing +when we see it?" + +"But you don't threaten people." + +Austin turned redder. "If people or corporations stand in our way and +block progress, of course we threaten. Threaten? Isn't the threat of +punishment the very basis of law and order itself? What are laws for? +And we have laws, too--laws, under the law--" + +"Of the State of New Jersey," said Selwyn, laughing. "Don't flare up, +Austin; I'm probably not cut out for a business career, as you +point out--otherwise I would not have consulted you. I know +some laws--including 'The Survival of the Fittest,' and the +'Chain-of-Destruction'; and I have read the poem beginning + + "'Big bugs have little bugs to bite 'em.' + +"That's all right, too; but speaking of laws, I'm always trying to +formulate one for my particular self-government; and you don't mind, do +you?" + +"No," said Gerard, much amused, "I don't mind. Only when you talk +ethics--talk sense at the same time." + +"I wish I knew how," he said. + +They discussed Neergard's scheme for a little while longer; Austin, +shrewd and cautious, declined any personal part in the financing of the +deal, although he admitted the probability of prospective profits. + +"Our investments and our loans are of a different character," he +explained, "but I have no doubt that Fane, Harmon & Co.--" + +"Why, both Fane and Harmon are members of the club!" laughed Selwyn. +"You don't expect Neergard to go to them?" + +A peculiar expression flickered in Gerard's heavy features; perhaps he +thought that Fane and Harmon and Jack Ruthven were not above exploiting +their own club under certain circumstances. But whatever his opinion, he +said nothing further; and, suggesting that Selwyn remain to dine, went +off to dress. + +A few moments later he returned, crestfallen and conciliatory: + +"I forgot, Nina and I are dining at the Orchils. Come up a moment; she +wants to speak to you." + +So they took the rose-tinted rococo elevator; Austin went away to his +own quarters, and Selwyn tapped at Nina's boudoir. + +"Is that you, Phil? One minute; Watson is finishing my hair. . . . Come +in, now; and kindly keep your distance, my friend. Do you suppose I want +Rosamund to know what brand of war-paint I use?" + +"Rosamund," he repeated, with a good-humoured shrug; "it's likely--isn't +it?" + +"Certainly it's likely. You'd never know you were telling her +anything--but she'd extract every detail in ten seconds. . . . I +understand she adores you, Phil. What have you done to her?" + +"That's likely, too," he remarked, remembering his savagely polite +rebuke to that young matron after the Minster dinner. + +"Well, she does; you've probably piqued her; that's the sort of man she +likes. . . . Look at my hair--how bright and wavy it is, Phil. Tell me, +_do_ I appear fairly pretty to-night?" + +"You're all right, Nina; I mean it," he said. "How are the kids? How is +Eileen?" + +"That's why I sent for you. Eileen is furious at being left here all +alone; she's practically well and she's to dine with Drina in the +library. Would you be good enough to dine there with them? Eileen, poor +child, is heartily sick of her imprisonment; it would be a mercy, Phil." + +"Why, yes, I'll do it, of course; only I've some matters at home--" + +"Home! You call those stuffy, smoky, impossible, half-furnished rooms +_home_! Phil, when are you ever going to get some pretty furniture and +art things? Eileen and I have been talking it over, and we've decided to +go there and see what you need and then order it, whether you like it or +not." + +"Thanks," he said, laughing; "it's just what I've tried to avoid. I've +got things where I want them now--but I knew it was too comfortable to +last. Boots said that some woman would be sure to be good to me with an +art-nouveau rocking-chair." + +"A perfect sample of man's gratitude," said Nina, exasperated; "for I've +ordered two beautiful art-nouveau rocking-chairs, one for you and one +for Mr. Lansing. Now you can go and humiliate poor little Eileen, who +took so much pleasure in planning with me for your comfort. As for your +friend Boots, he's unspeakable--with my compliments." + +Selwyn stayed until he made peace with his sister, then he mounted to +the nursery to "lean over" the younger children and preside at prayers. +This being accomplished, he descended to the library, where Eileen +Erroll in a filmy, lace-clouded gown, full of turquoise tints, reclined +with her arm around Drina amid heaps of cushions, watching the waitress +prepare a table for two. + +He took the fresh, cool hand she extended and sat down on the edge of +her couch. + +"All O.K. again?" he inquired, retaining Eileen's hand in his. + +"Thank you--quite. Are you really going to dine with us? Are you sure +you want to? Oh, I know you've given up some very gay dinner +somewhere--" + +"I was going to dine with Boots when Nina rescued me. Poor Boots!--I +think I'll telephone--" + +"Telephone him to come here!" begged Drina. "Would he come? Oh, +please--I'd love to have him." + +"I wish you would ask him," said Eileen; "it's been so lonely and stupid +to lie in bed with a red nose and fishy eyes and pains in one's back and +limbs. Please do let us have a party." + +[Illustration: "'Two pillows,' said Drina sweetly."] + +So Selwyn went to the telephone, and presently returned, saying that +Boots was overwhelmed and would be present at the festivities; and +Drina, enraptured, ordered flowers to be brought from the dining-room +and a large table set for four, with particular pomp and circumstance. + +Mr. Archibald Lansing arrived very promptly--a short, stocky young man +of clean and powerful build, with dark, keen eyes always alert, and +humorous lips ever on the edge of laughter under his dark moustache. + +His manner with Drina was always delightful--a mixture of self-repressed +idolatry and busily naive belief in a thorough understanding between +them to exclude Selwyn from their company. + +"This Selwyn fellow here!" he exclaimed. "I warned him over the 'phone +we'd not tolerate him, Drina. I explained to him very carefully that you +and I were dining together in strictest privacy--" + +"He begged so hard," said Eileen. "Will somebody place an extra pillow +for Drina?" + +They seized the same pillow fiercely, confronting each other; massacre +appeared imminent. + +"_Two_ pillows," said Drina sweetly; and extermination was averted. The +child laughed happily, covering one of Boots's hands with both of hers. + +"So you've left the service, Mr. Lansing?" began Eileen, lying back and +looking smilingly at Boots. + +"Had to, Miss Erroll. Seven millionaires ran into my quarters and chased +me out and down Broadway into the offices of the Westchester Air Line +Company. Then these seven merciless multi-millionaires in buckram bound +and gagged me, stuffed my pockets full of salary, and forced me to +typewrite a fearful and secret oath to serve them for five long, weary +years. That's a sample of how the wealthy grind the noses of the poor, +isn't it, Drina?" + +The child slipped her hand from his, smiling uncertainly. + +"You don't mean all that, do you?" + +"Indeed I do, sweetheart." + +"Are you not a soldier lieutenant any more, then?" she inquired, +horribly disappointed. + +"Only a private in the workman's battalion, Drina." + +"I don't care," retorted the child obstinately; "I like you just as +much." + +"Have you really done it?" asked Selwyn as the first course was served. + +"_I?_ No. _They?_ Yes. We'll probably lose the Philippines now," he +added gloomily; "but it's my thankless country's fault; you all had a +chance to make me dictator, you know. Miss Erroll, do you want a +second-hand sword? Of course there are great dents in it--" + +"I'd rather have those celebrated boots," she replied demurely; and Mr. +Lansing groaned. + +"How tall you're growing, Drina," remarked Selwyn. + +"Probably the early spring weather," added Boots. "You're twelve, aren't +you?" + +"Thirteen," said Drina gravely. + +"Almost time to elope with me," nodded Boots. + +"I'll do it now," she said--"as soon as my new gowns are made--if you'll +take me to Manila. Will you? I believe my Aunt Alixe is there--" + +She caught Eileen's eye and stopped short. "I forgot," she murmured; "I +beg your pardon, Uncle Philip--" + +Boots was talking very fast and laughing a great deal; Eileen's plate +claimed her undivided attention; Selwyn quietly finished his claret; the +child looked at them all. + +"By the way," said Boots abruptly, "what's the matter with Gerald? He +came in before noon looking very seedy--" Selwyn glanced up quietly. + +"Wasn't he at the office?" asked Eileen anxiously. + +"Oh, yes," replied Selwyn; "he felt a trifle under the weather, so I +sent him home." + +"Is it the grippe?" + +"N-no, I believe not--" + +"Do you think he had better have a doctor? Where is he?" + +"He was here," observed Drina composedly, "and father was angry with +him." + +"What?" exclaimed Eileen. "When?" + +"This morning, before father went downtown." + +Both Selwyn and Lansing cut in coolly, dismissing the matter with a +careless word or two; and coffee was served--cambric tea in Drina's +case. + +"Come on," said Boots, slipping a bride-rose into Drina's curls; "I'm +ready for confidences." + +"Confidences" had become an established custom with Drina and Boots; it +meant that every time they saw one another they were pledged to tell +each other everything that had occurred in their lives since their last +meeting. + +So Drina, excitedly requesting to be excused, jumped up and, taking +Lansing's hand in hers, led him to a sofa in a distant corner, where +they immediately installed themselves and began an earnest and whispered +exchange of confidences, punctuated by little whirlwinds of laughter +from the child. + +Eileen settled deeper among her pillows as the table was removed, and +Selwyn drew his chair forward. + +"Suppose," she said, looking thoughtfully at him, "that you and I make a +vow to exchange confidences? Shall we, Captain Selwyn?" + +"Good heavens," he protested; "I--confess to _you_! You'd faint dead +away, Eileen." + +"Perhaps. . . . But will you?" + +He gaily evaded an answer, and after a while he fancied she had +forgotten. They spoke of other things, of her convalescence, of the +engagements she had been obliged to cancel, of the stupid hours in her +room--doubly stupid, as the doctor had not permitted her to read or sew. + +"And every day violets from you," she said; "it was certainly nice of +you. And--do you know that somehow--just because you have never yet +failed me--I thought perhaps--when I asked your confidence a moment +ago--" + +He looked up quickly. + +"_What_ is the matter with Gerald?" she asked. "Could you tell me?" + +"Nothing serious is the matter, Eileen." + +"Is he not ill?" + +"Not very." + +She lay still a moment, then with the slightest gesture: "Come here." + +He seated himself near her; she laid her hand fearlessly on his arm. + +"Tell me," she demanded. And, as he remained silent: "Once," she said, +"I came suddenly into the library. Austin and Gerald were there; Austin +seemed to be very angry with my brother. I heard him say something that +worried me; and I slipped out before they saw me." + +Selwyn remained silent. + +"Was _that_ it?" + +"I--don't know what you heard." + +"_Don't_ you understand me?" + +"Not exactly." + +"Well, then"--she crimsoned--"has Gerald m-misbehaved again?" + +"What did you hear Austin say?" he demanded. + +"I heard--something about dissipation. He was very angry with Gerald. It +is not the best way, I think, to become angry with either of us--either +me or Gerald--because then we are usually inclined to do it +again--whatever it is. . . . I do not mean for one moment to be disloyal +to Austin; you know that. . . . But I am so thankful that Gerald is fond +of you. . . . You like him, too, don't you?" + +"I am very fond of him." + +"Well, then," she said, "you will talk to him pleasantly--won't you? He +is _such_ a boy; and he adores you. It is easy to influence a boy like +that, you know--easy to shame him out of the silly things he does. . . . +That is all the confidence I wanted, Captain Selwyn. And you haven't +told me a word, you see--and I have not fainted--have I?" + +They laughed a little; her fingers, which had tightened on his arm, +relaxed; her hand fell away, and she straightened up, sitting Turk +fashion, and smoothing her hair which contact with the pillows had +disarranged so that it threatened to come tumbling over eyes and cheeks. + +"Oh, hair, hair!" she murmured, "you're Nina's despair and my endless +punishment. I'd twist and pin you tight if I dared--some day I will, +too. . . . What are you looking at so curiously, Captain Selwyn? My +mop?" + +"It's about the most stunningly beautiful thing I ever saw," he said, +still curious. + +She nodded gaily, both hands still busy with the lustrous strands. "It +_is_ nice; but I never supposed you noticed it. It falls to my waist; +I'll show it to you some time. . . . But I had no idea _you_ noticed +such things," she repeated, as though to herself. + +"Oh, I'm apt to notice all sorts of things," he said, looking so +provokingly wise that she dropped her hair and clapped both hands over +her eyes. + +"Now," she said, "if you are so observing, you'll know the colour of my +eyes. What are they?" + +"Blue--with a sort of violet tint," he said promptly. + +She laughed and lowered her hands. + +"All that personal attention paid to me!" she exclaimed. "You are +turning my head, Captain Selwyn. Besides, you are astonishing me, +because you never seem to know what women wear or what they resemble +when I ask you to describe the girls with whom you have been dining or +dancing." + +It was a new note in their cordial intimacy--this nascent intrusion of +the personal. To her it merely meant his very charming recognition of +her maturity--she was fast becoming a woman like other women, to be +looked at and remembered as an individual, and no longer classed vaguely +as one among hundreds of the newly emerged whose soft, unexpanded +personalities all resembled one another. + +For some time, now, she had cherished this tiny grudge in her +heart--that he had never seemed to notice anything in particular about +her except when he tried to be agreeable concerning some new gown. The +contrast had become the sharper, too, since she had awakened to the +admiration of other men. And the awakening was only a half-convinced +happiness mingled with shy surprise that the wise world should really +deem her so lovely. + +"A red-headed girl," she said teasingly; "I thought you had better taste +than--than--" + +"Than to think you a raving beauty?" + +"Oh," she said, "you don't think that!" + +As a matter of fact he himself had become aware of it so suddenly that +he had no time to think very much about it. It was rather strange, too, +that he had not always been aware of it; or was it partly the mellow +light from the lamp tinting her till she glowed and shimmered like a +young sorceress, sitting so straight there in her turquoise silk and +misty lace? + +Delicate luminous shadow banded her eyes; her hair, partly in shadow, +too, became a sombre mystery in rose-gold. + +"Whatever _are_ you staring at?" she laughed. "Me? I don't believe it! +Never have you so honoured me with your fixed attention, Captain Selwyn. +You really glare at me as though I were interesting. And I know you +don't consider me that; do you?" + +"How old are you, anyway?" he asked curiously. + +"Thank you, I'll be delighted to inform you when I'm twenty." + +"You look like a mixture of fifteen and twenty-five to-night," he said +deliberately; "and the answer is more and less than nineteen." + +"And you," she said, "talk like a frivolous sage, and your wisdom is as +weighty as the years you carry. And what is the answer to that? Do you +know, Captain Selwyn, that when you talk to me this way you look about +as inexperienced as Gerald?" + +"And do _you_ know," he said, "that I feel as inexperienced--when I talk +to you this way?" + +She nodded. "It's probably good for us both; I age, you renew the +frivolous days of youth when you were young enough to notice the colour +of a girl's hair and eyes. Besides, I'm very grateful to you. Hereafter +you won't dare sit about and cross your knees and look like the picture +of an inattentive young man by Gibson. You've admitted that you like two +of my features, and I shall expect you to notice and _admit_ that you +notice the rest." + +"I admit it now," he said, laughing. + +"You mustn't; I won't let you. Two kinds of dessert are sufficient at a +time. But to-morrow--or perhaps the day after, you may confess to me +your approbation of one more feature--only one, remember!--just one more +agreeable feature. In that way I shall be able to hold out for quite a +while, you see--counting my fingers as separate features! Oh, you've +given me a taste of it; it's your own fault, Captain Selwyn, and now I +desire more if you please--in semi-weekly lingering doses--" + +A perfect gale of laughter from the sofa cut her short. + +"Drina!" she exclaimed; "it's after eight!--and I completely forgot." + +"Oh, dear!" protested the child, "he's being so funny about the war in +Samar. Couldn't I stay up--just five more minutes, Eileen? Besides, I +haven't told him about Jessie Orchil's party--" + +"Drina, dear, you _know_ I can't let you. Say good-night, now--if you +want Mr. Lansing and your Uncle Philip to come to another party." + +"I'll just whisper one more confidence very fast," she said to Boots. He +inclined his head; she placed both hands on his shoulders, and, kneeling +on the sofa, laid her lips close to his ear. Eileen and Selwyn waited. + +When the child had ended and had taken leave of all, Boots also took his +leave; and Selwyn rose, too, a troubled, careworn expression replacing +the careless gaiety which had made him seem so young in Miss Erroll's +youthful eyes. + +"Wait, Boots," he said; "I'm going home with you." And, to Eileen, +almost absently: "Good-night; I'm so very glad you are well again." + +"Good-night," she said, looking up at him. The faintest sense of +disappointment came over her--at what, she did not know. Was it because, +in his completely altered face she realised the instant and easy +detachment from herself, and what concerned her?--was it because other +people, like Mr. Lansing--other interests--like those which so plainly, +in his face, betrayed his preoccupation--had so easily replaced an +intimacy which had seemed to grow newer and more delightful with every +meeting? + +What was it, then, that he found more interesting, more important, than +their friendship, their companionship? Was she never to grow old enough, +or wise enough, or experienced enough to exact--without exacting--his +paramount consideration and interest? Was there no common level of +mental equality where they could meet?--where termination of interviews +might be mutual--might be fairer to her? + +Now he went away, utterly detached from her and what concerned her--to +seek other interests of which she knew nothing; absorbed in them to her +utter exclusion, leaving her here with the long evening before her and +nothing to do--because her eyes were not yet strong enough to use for +reading. + +Lansing was saying: "I'll drive as far as the club with you, and then +you can drop me and come back later." + +"Right, my son; I'll finish a letter and then come back--" + +"Can't you write it at the club?" + +"Not that letter," he replied in a low voice; and, turning to Eileen, +smiled his absent, detached smile, offering his hand. + +But she lay back, looking straight up at him. + +"Are you going?" + +"Yes; I have several--" + +"Stay with me," she said in a low voice. + +For a moment the words meant nothing; then blank surprise silenced him, +followed by curiosity. + +"Is there something you wished to tell me?" he asked. + +"N-no." + +His perplexity and surprise grew. "Wait a second, Boots," he said; and +Mr. Lansing, being a fairly intelligent young man, went out and down the +stairway. + +"Now," he said, too kindly, too soothingly, "what is it, Eileen?" + +"Nothing. I thought--but I don't care. Please go, Captain Selwyn." + +"No, I shall not until you tell me what troubles you." + +"I can't." + +"Try, Eileen." + +"Why, it is nothing; truly it is nothing. . . . Only I was--it is so +early--only a quarter past eight--" + +He stood there looking down at her, striving to understand. + +"That is all," she said, flushing a trifle; "I can't read and I can't +sew and there's nobody here. . . . I don't mean to bother you--" + +"Child," he exclaimed, "do you _want_ me to stay?" + +"Yes," she said; "will you?" + +He walked swiftly to the landing outside and looked down. + +"Boots!" he called in a low voice, "I'm not going home yet. Don't wait +for me at the Lenox." + +"All right," returned Mr. Lansing cheerfully. A moment later the front +door closed below. Then Selwyn came back into the library. + +For an hour he sat there telling her the gayest stories and talking the +most delightful nonsense, alternating with interesting incisions into +serious subjects: which it enchanted her to dissect under his confident +guidance. + +Alert, intelligent, all aquiver between laughter and absorption, she had +sat up among her silken pillows, resting her weight on one rounded arm, +her splendid young eyes fixed on him to detect and follow and interpret +every change in his expression personal to the subject and to her share +in it. + +His old self again! What could be more welcome? Not one shadow in his +pleasant eyes, not a trace of pallor, of care, of that gray aloofness. +How jolly, how young he was after all! + +They discussed, or laughed at, or mentioned and dismissed with a gesture +a thousand matters of common interest in that swift hour--incredibly +swift, unless the hall clock's deadened chimes were mocking Time itself +with mischievous effrontery. + +She heard them, the enchantment still in her eyes; he nodded, listening, +meeting her gaze with his smile undisturbed. When the last chime had +sounded she lay back among her cushions. + +"Thank you for staying," she said quite happily. + +"Am I to go?" + +Smilingly thoughtful she considered him from her pillows: + +"Where were you going when I--spoiled it all? For you were going +somewhere--out there"--with a gesture toward the darkness +outside--"somewhere where men go to have the good times they always seem +to have. . . . Was it to your club? What do men do there? Is it very gay +at men's clubs? . . . It must be interesting to go where men have such +jolly times--where men gather to talk that mysterious man-talk which we +so often wonder at--and pretend we are indifferent. But we are very +curious, nevertheless--even about the boys of Gerald's age--whom we +laugh at and torment; and we can't help wondering how they talk to each +other--what they say that is so interesting; for they somehow manage to +convey that impression to us--even against our will. . . . If you stay, +I shall never have done with chattering. When you sit there with one +lazy knee so leisurely draped over the other, and your eyes laughing at +me through your cigar-smoke, about a million ideas flash up in me which +I desire to discuss with you. . . . So you had better go." + +"I am happier here," he said, watching her. + +"Really?" + +"Really." + +"Then--then--am _I_, also, one of the 'good times' a man can have?--when +he is at liberty to reflect and choose as he idles over his coffee?" + +"A man is fortunate if you permit that choice." + +"Are you serious? I mean a man, not a boy--not a dance or dinner +partner, or one of the men one meets about--everywhere from pillar to +post. Do you think me interesting to real men?--like you and Boots?" + +"Yes," he said deliberately, "I do. I don't know how interesting, +because--I never quite realised how--how you had matured. . . . That was +my stupidity." + +"Captain Selwyn!" in confused triumph; "you never gave me a chance; I +mean, you always were nice in--in the same way you are to Drina. . . . I +liked it--don't please misunderstand--only I knew there was something +else to me--something more nearly your own age. It was jolly to know you +were really fond of me--but youthful sisters grow faster than you +imagine. . . . And now, when you come, I shall venture to believe it is +not wholly to do me a kindness--but--a little--to do yourself one, too. +Is that not the basis of friendship?" + +"Yes." + +"Community and equality of interests?--isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"--And--in which the--the charity of superior experience and the +inattention of intellectual preoccupation and the amused concession to +ignorance must steadily, if gradually, disappear? Is that it, too?" + +Astonishment and chagrin at his misconception of her gave place to +outright laughter at his own expense. + +"Where on earth did you--I mean that I am quite overwhelmed under your +cutting indictment of me. Old duffers of my age--" + +"Don't say that," she said; "that is pleading guilty to the indictment, +and reverting to the old footing. I shall not permit you to go back." + +"I don't want to, Eileen--" + +"I am wondering," she said airily, "about that 'Eileen.' I'm not sure +but that easy and fluent 'Eileen' is part of the indictment. What do you +call Gladys Orchil, for example?" + +"What do I care what I call anybody?" he retorted, laughing, "as long as +they + + "'Answer to "Hi!" + Or to any loud cry'?" + +"But _I_ won't answer to 'Hi!'" she retorted very promptly; "and now +that you admit that I am a 'good time,' a mature individual with +distinguishing characteristics, and your intellectual equal if not your +peer in experience, I'm not sure that I shall answer at all whenever you +begin 'Eileen.' Or I shall take my time about it--or I may even reflect +and look straight through you before I reply--or," she added, "I may be +so profoundly preoccupied with important matters which do not concern +you, that I might not even hear you speak at all." + +Their light-hearted laughter mingled delightfully--fresh, free, +uncontrolled, peal after peal. She sat huddled up like a schoolgirl, +lovely head thrown back, her white hands clasping her knees; he, both +feet squarely on the floor, leaned forward, his laughter echoing hers. + +"What nonsense! What blessed nonsense you and I are talking!" she said, +"but it has made me quite happy. Now you may go to your club and your +mysterious man-talk--" + +"I don't want to--" + +"Oh, but you must!"--_she_ was now dismissing _him_--"because, although +I am convalescent, I am a little tired, and Nina's maid is waiting to +tuck me in." + +"So you send me away?" + +"_Send_ you--" She hesitated, delightfully confused in the reversal of +roles--not quite convinced of this new power which, of itself, had +seemed to invest her with authority over man. "Yes," she said, "I must +send you away." And her heart beat a little faster in her uncertainty as +to his obedience--then leaped in triumph as he rose with a reluctance +perfectly visible. + +"To-morrow," she said, "I am to drive for the first time. In the evening +I may be permitted to go to the Grays' mid-Lent dance--but not to dance +much. Will you be there? Didn't they ask you? I shall tell Suddy Gray +what I think of him--I don't care whether it's for the younger set +or not! Goodness me, aren't you as young as anybody! . . . Well, +then! . . . So we won't see each other to-morrow. And the day after +that--oh, I wish I had my engagement list. Never mind, I will telephone +you when I'm to be at home--or wherever I'm going to be. But it won't be +anywhere in particular because it's Lent, of course. . . . Good-night, +Captain Selwyn; you've been very sweet to me, and I've enjoyed every +single instant." + +When he had gone she rose, a trifle excited in the glow of abstract +happiness, and walked erratically about, smiling to herself, touching +and rearranging objects that caught her attention. Then an innocent +instinct led her to the mirror, where she stood a moment looking back +into the lovely reflected face with its disordered hair. + +"After all," she said, "I'm not as aged as I pretended. . . . I wonder +if he is laughing at me now. . . . But he was very, very nice to +me--wherever he has gone in quest of that 'good time' and to talk his +man-talk to other men--" + +In a reverie she stood at the mirror considering her own flushed cheeks +and brilliant eyes. + +"What a curiously interesting man he is," she murmured naively. "I shall +telephone him that I am not going to that _mi-careme_ dance. . . . +Besides, Suddy Gray is a bore with the martyred smile he's been +cultivating. . . . As though a happy girl would dream of marrying +anybody with all life before her to learn important things in! . . . +And that dreadful, downy Scott Innis--trying to make me listen +to _him_! . . . until I was ashamed to be alive! And Bradley +Harmon--ugh!--and oh, that mushy widower, Percy Draymore, who got hold +of my arm before I dreamed--" + +She shuddered and turned back into the room, frowning and counting her +slow steps across the floor. + +"After all," she said, "their silliness may be their greatest +mystery--but I don't include Captain Selwyn," she added loyally; "he is +far too intelligent to be like other men." + + * * * * * + +Yet, like other men, at that very moment Captain Selwyn was playing the +fizzing contents of a siphon upon the iced ingredients of a tall, thin +glass which stood on a table in the Lenox Club. + +The governor's room being deserted except by himself and Mr. Lansing, he +continued the animated explanation of his delay in arriving. + +"So I stayed," he said to Boots with an enthusiasm quite boyish, "and I +had a perfectly bully time. She's just as clever as she can +be--startling at moments. I never half appreciated her--she formerly +appealed to me in a different way--a young girl knocking at the door of +the world, and no mother or father to open for her and show her the +gimcracks and the freaks and the side-shows. Do you know, Boots, that +some day that girl is going to marry somebody, and it worries me, +knowing men as I do--unless you should think of--" + +"Great James!" faltered Mr. Lansing, "are you turning into a schatschen? +Are you planning to waddle through the world making matches for your +friends? If you are I'm quitting you right here." + +"It's only because you are the decentest man I happen to know," said +Selwyn resentfully. "Probably she'd turn you down, anyway. But--" and he +brightened up, "I dare say she'll choose the best to be had; it's a pity +though--" + +"What's a pity?" + +"That a charming, intellectual, sensitive, innocent girl like that +should be turned over to a plain lump of a man." + +"When you've finished your eulogy on our sex," said Lansing, "I'll walk +home with you." + +"Come on, then; I can talk while I walk; did you think I couldn't?" + +And as they struck through the first cross street toward Lexington +Avenue: "It's a privilege for a fellow to know that sort of a girl--so +many surprises in her--the charmingly unexpected and unsuspected!--the +pretty flashes of wit, the naive egotism which is as amusing as it is +harmless. . . . I had no idea how complex she is. . . . If you think you +have the simple feminine on your hands--forget it, Boots!--for she's as +evanescent as a helio-flash and as stunningly luminous as a searchlight. +. . . And here I've been doing the benevolent prig, bestowing society +upon her as a man doles out indigestible stuff to a kid, using a sort of +guilty discrimination in the distribution--" + +"What on earth is all this?" demanded Lansing; "are you perhaps _non +compos_, dear friend?" + +"I'm trying to tell you and explain to myself that little Miss Erroll is +a rare and profoundly interesting specimen of a genus not usually too +amusing," he replied with growing enthusiasm. "Of course, Holly Erroll +was her father, and that accounts for something; and her mother seems to +have been a wit as well as a beauty--which helps you to understand; but +the brilliancy of the result--aged nineteen, mind you--is out of all +proportion; cause and effect do not balance. . . . Why, Boots, an +ordinary man--I mean an everyday fellow who dines and dances and does +the harmlessly usual about town, dwindles to anaemic insignificance when +compared to that young girl--even now when she's practically +undeveloped--when her intelligence is like an uncut gem still in the +matrix of inexperience--" + +"Help!" said Boots feebly, attempting to bolt; but Selwyn hooked arms +with him, laughing excitedly. In fact Lansing had not seen his friend in +such excellent spirits for many, many months; and it made him +exceedingly light-hearted, so that he presently began to chant the old +service canticle: + + "I have another, he's just as bad, + He almost drives me crazy--" + +And arm in arm they swung into the dark avenue, singing "Barney Riley" +in resonant undertones, while overhead the chilly little Western stars +looked down through pallid convolutions of moving clouds, and the wind +in the gas-lit avenue grew keener on the street-corners. + +"Cooler followed by clearing," observed Boots in disgust. "Ugh; it's the +limit, this nipping, howling hemisphere." And he turned up his overcoat +collar. + +"I prefer it to a hemisphere that smells like a cheap joss-stick," said +Selwyn. + +"After all, they're about alike," retorted Boots--"even to the ladrones +of Broad Street and the dattos of Wall. . . . And here's our bally +bungalow now," he added, fumbling for his keys and whistling "taps" +under his breath. + +As the two men entered and started to ascend the stairs, a door on the +parlour floor opened and their landlady appeared, enveloped in a soiled +crimson kimona and a false front which had slipped sideways. + +"There's the Sultana," whispered Lansing, "and she's making +sign-language at you. Wig-wag her, Phil. Oh . . . good-evening, Mrs. +Greeve; did you wish to speak to me? Oh!--to Captain Selwyn. Of course." + +"If _you_ please," said Mrs. Greeve ominously, so Lansing continued +upward; Selwyn descended; Mrs. Greeve waved him into the icy parlour, +where he presently found her straightening her "front" with work-worn +fingers. + +"Captain Selwyn, I deemed it my duty to set up in order to inform you of +certain special doin's," she said haughtily. + +"What 'doings'?" he inquired. + +"Mr. Erroll's, sir. Last night he evidentially found difficulty with the +stairs and I seen him asleep on the parlour sofa when I come down to +answer the milkman, a-smokin' a cigar that wasn't lit, with his feet on +the angelus." + +"I'm very, very sorry, Mrs. Greeve," he said--"and so is Mr. Erroll. He +and I had a little talk to-day, and I am sure that he will be more +careful hereafter." + +"There is cigar-holes burned into the carpet," insisted Mrs. Greeve, +"and a mercy we wasn't all insinuated in our beds, one window-pane +broken and the gas a blue an' whistlin' streak with the curtains blowin' +into it an' a strange cat on to that satin dozy-do; the proof being the +repugnant perfume." + +"All of which," said Selwyn, "Mr. Erroll will make every possible amends +for. He is very young, Mrs. Greeve, and very much ashamed, I am sure. So +please don't make it too hard for him." + +She stood, little slippered feet planted sturdily in the first position +in dancing, fat, bare arms protruding from the kimona, her work-stained +fingers linked together in front of her. With a soiled thumb she turned +a ring on her third finger. + +"I ain't a-goin' to be mean to nobody," she said; "my gentlemen is +always refined, even if they do sometimes forget theirselves when young +and sporty. Mr. Erroll is now a-bed, sir, and asleep like a cherub, ice +havin' been served three times with towels, extra. Would you be good +enough to mention the bill to him in the morning?--the grocer bein' +sniffy." And she handed the wadded and inky memorandum of damages to +Selwyn, who pocketed it with a nod of assurance. + +"There was," she added, following him to the door, "a lady here to see +you twice, leavin' no name or intentions otherwise than business affairs +of a pressin' nature." + +"A--lady?" he repeated, halting short on the stairs. + +"Young an' refined, allowin' for a automobile veil." + +"She--she asked for me?" he repeated, astonished. + +"Yes, sir. She wanted to see your rooms. But havin' no orders, Captain +Selwyn--although I must say she was that polite and ladylike and," added +Mrs. Greeve irrelevantly, "a art rocker come for you, too, and another +for Mr. Lansing, which I placed in your respective settin'-rooms." + +"Oh," said Selwyn, laughing in relief, "it's all right, Mrs. Greeve. The +lady who came is my sister, Mrs. Gerard; and whenever she comes you are +to admit her whether or not I am here." + +"She said she might come again," nodded Mrs. Greeve as he mounted the +stairs; "am I to show her up any time she comes?" + +"Certainly--thank you," he called back--"and Mr. Gerard, too, if he +calls." + +He looked into Boots's room as he passed; that gentleman, in bedroom +costume of peculiar exotic gorgeousness, sat stuffing a pipe with shag, +and poring over a mass of papers pertaining to the Westchester Air +Line's property and prospective developments. + +"Come in, Phil," he called out; "and look at the dinky chair somebody +sent me!" But Selwyn shook his head. + +"Come into my rooms when you're ready," he said, and closed the door +again, smiling and turning away toward his own quarters. + +Before he entered, however, he walked the length of the hall and +cautiously tried the handle of Gerald's door. It yielded; he lighted a +match and gazed at the sleeping boy where he lay very peacefully among +his pillows. Then, without a sound, he reclosed the door and withdrew to +his apartment. + +As he emerged from the bedroom in his dressing-gown he heard the front +door-bell below peal twice, but paid no heed, his attention being +concentrated on the chair which Nina had sent him. First he walked +gingerly all around it, then he ventured nearer to examine it in detail, +and presently he tried it. + +"Of course," he sighed--"bless her heart!--it's a perfectly impossible +chair. It squeaks, too." But he was mistaken; the creak came from the +old stairway outside his door, weighted with the tread of Mrs. Greeve. +The tread and the creaking ceased; there came a knock, then heavy +descending footsteps on the aged stairway, every separate step +protesting until the incubus had sunk once more into the depths from +which it had emerged. + +As this happened to be the night for his laundry, he merely called out, +"All right!" and remained incurious, seated in the new chair and +striving to adjust its stiff and narrow architecture to his own broad +shoulders. Finally he got up and filled his pipe, intending to try the +chair once more under the most favourable circumstances. + +As he lighted his pipe there came a hesitating knock at the door; he +jerked his head sharply; the knock was repeated. + +Something--a faintest premonition--the vaguest stirring of foreboding +committed him to silence--and left him there motionless. The match +burned close to his fingers; he dropped it and set his heel upon the +sparks. + +Then he walked swiftly to the door, flung it open full width--and stood +stock still. + +And Mrs. Ruthven entered the room, partly closing the door behind, her +gloved hand still resting on the knob. + +For a moment they confronted one another, he tall, rigid, astounded; she +pale, supple, relaxing a trifle against the half-closed door behind her, +which yielded and closed with a low click. + +At the sound of the closing door he found his voice; it did not resemble +his own voice either to himself or to her; but she answered his +bewildered question: + +"I don't know why I came. Is it so very dreadful? Have I offended +you? . . . I did not suppose that men cared about conventions." + +"But--why on earth--did you come?" he repeated. "Are you in trouble?" + +"I seem to be now," she said with a tremulous laugh; "you are +frightening me to death, Captain Selwyn." + +Still dazed, he found the first chair at hand and dragged it toward her. + +She hesitated at the offer; then: "Thank you," she said, passing before +him. She laid her hand on the chair, looked a moment at him, and sank +into it. + +Resting there, her pale cheek against her muff, she smiled at him, and +every nerve in him quivered with pity. + +"World without end; amen," she said. "Let the judgment of man pass." + +"The judgment of this man passes very gently," he said, looking down at +her. "What brings you here, Mrs. Ruthven?" + +"Will you believe me?" + +"Yes." + +"Then--it is simply the desire of the friendless for a friend. Nothing +else--nothing more subtle, nothing of effrontery; n-nothing worse. Do +you believe me?" + +"I don't understand--" + +"Try to." + +"Do you mean that you have differed with--" + +"Him?" She laughed. "Oh, no; I was talking of real people, not of myths. +And real people are not very friendly to me, always--not that they are +disagreeable, you understand, only a trifle overcordial; and my most +intimate friend kisses me a little too frequently. By the way, she has +quite succumbed to you, I hear." + +"Who do you mean?" + +"Why, Rosamund." + +He said something under his breath and looked at her impatiently. + +"Didn't you know it?" she asked, smiling. + +"Know what?" + +"That Rosamund is quite crazy about you?" + +"Good Lord! Do you suppose that any of the monkey set are interested in +me or I in them?" he said, disgusted. "Do I ever go near them or meet +them at all except by accident in the routine of the machinery which +sometimes sews us in tangent patches on this crazy-quilt called +society?" + +[Illustration: "'I don't know why I came.'"] + +"But Rosamund," she said, laughing, "is now cultivating Mrs. Gerard." + +"What of it?" he demanded. + +"Because," she replied, still laughing, "I tell you, she is perfectly +mad about you. There's no use scowling and squaring your chin. Oh, I +ought to know what that indicates! I've watched you do it often enough; +but the fact is that the handsomest and smartest woman in town is for +ever dinning your perfections into my ears--" + +"I know," he said, "that this sort of stuff passes in your set for wit; +but let me tell you that any man who cares for that brand of humour can +have it any time he chooses. However, he goes outside the residence +district to find it." + +She flushed scarlet at his brutality; he drew up a chair, seated himself +very deliberately, and spoke, his unlighted pipe in his left hand: + +"The girl I left--the girl who left me--was a modest, clean-thinking, +clean-minded girl, who also had a brain to use, and employed it. +Whatever conclusion that girl arrived at concerning the importance of +marriage-vows is no longer my business; but the moment she confronts me +again, offering friendship, then I may use a friend's privilege, as I +do. And so I tell you that loosely fashionable badinage bores me. And +another matter--privileged by the friendship you acknowledge--forces me +to ask you a question, and I ask it, point-blank: Why have you again +permitted Gerald to play cards for stakes at your house, after promising +you would not do so?" + +The colour receded from her face and her gloved fingers tightened on the +arms of her chair. + +"That is one reason I came," she said; "to explain--" + +"You could have written." + +"I say it was _one_ reason; the other I have already given you--because +I--I felt that you were friendly." + +"I am. Go on." + +"I don't know whether you are friendly to me; I thought you were--that +night. . . . I did not sleep a wink after it . . . because I was quite +happy. . . . But now--I don't know--" + +"Whether I am still friendly? Well, I am. So please explain about +Gerald." + +"Are you sure?" raising her dark eyes, "that you mean to be kind?" + +"Yes, sure," he said harshly. "Go on." + +"You are a little rough with me; a-almost insolent--" + +"I--I have to be. Good God! Alixe, do you think this is nothing to +me?--this wretched mess we have made of life! Do you think my roughness +and abruptness comes from anything but pity?--pity for us both, I tell +you. Do you think I can remain unmoved looking on the atrocious +punishment you have inflicted on yourself?--tethered to--to _that_!--for +life!--the poison of the contact showing in your altered voice and +manner!--in the things you laugh at, in the things you live for--in the +twisted, misshapen ideals that your friends set up on a heap of nuggets +for you to worship? Even if we've passed through the sea of mire, can't +we at least clear the filth from our eyes and see straight and steer +straight to the anchorage?" + +She had covered her pallid face with her muff; he bent forward, his hand +on the arm of her chair. + +"Alixe, was there nothing to you, after all? Was it only a tinted ghost +that was blown into my bungalow that night--only a twist of shredded +marsh mist without substance, without being, without soul?--to be blown +away into the shadows with the next and stronger wind--and again to +drift out across the waste places of the world? I thought I knew a +sweet, impulsive comrade of flesh and blood; warm, quick, generous, +intelligent--and very, very young--too young and spirited, perhaps, to +endure the harness which coupled her with a man who failed her--and +failed himself. + +"That she has made another--and perhaps more heart-breaking mistake, is +bitter for me, too--because--because--I have not yet forgotten. And even +if I ceased to remember, the sadness of it must touch me. But I have not +forgotten, and because I have not, I say to you, anchor! and hold fast. +Whatever _he_ does, whatever you suffer, whatever happens, steer +straight on to the anchorage. Do you understand me?" + +Her gloved hand, moving at random, encountered his and closed on it +convulsively. + +"Do you understand?" he repeated. + +"Y-es, Phil." + +Head still sinking, face covered with the silvery fur, the tremors from +her body set her hand quivering on his. + +Heart-sick, he forbore to ask for the explanation; he knew the real +answer, anyway--whatever she might say--and he understood that any game +in that house was Ruthven's game, and the guests his guests; and that +Gerald was only one of the younger men who had been wrung dry in that +house. + +No doubt at all that Ruthven needed the money; he was only a male geisha +for the set that harboured him, anyway--picked up by a big, hard-eyed +woman, who had almost forgotten how to laugh, until she found him +furtively muzzling her diamond-laden fingers. So, when she discovered +that he could sit up and beg and roll over at a nod, she let him follow +her; and since then he had become indispensable and had curled up on +many a soft and silken knee, and had sought and fetched and carried for +many a pretty woman what she herself did not care to touch, even with +white-gloved fingers. + +What had she expected when she married him? Only innocent ignorance of +the set he ornamented could account for the horror of her disillusion. +What splendours had she dreamed of from the outside? What flashing and +infernal signal had beckoned her to enter? What mute eyes had promised? +What silent smile invited? All skulls seem to grin; but the world has +yet to hear them laugh. + + * * * * * + +"Philip?" + +"Yes, Alixe." + +"I did my best, w-without offending Gerald. Can you believe me?" + +"I know you did. . . . Don't mind what I said--" + +"N-no, not now. . . . You do believe me, don't you?" + +"Yes, I do." + +"Thank you. . . . And, Phil, I will try to s-steer straight--because you +ask me." + +"You must." + +"I will. . . . It is good to be here. . . . I must not come again, must +I?" + +"Not again, Alixe." + +"On your account?" + +"On your own. . . . What do _I_ care?" + +"I didn't know. They say--" + +"What?" he asked sharply. + +"A rumour--I heard it--others speak of it--perhaps to be disagreeable to +me--" + +"What have you heard?" + +"That--that you might marry again--" + +"Well, you can nail that lie," he said hotly. + +"Then it is not true?" + +"True! Do you think I'd take that chance again even if I felt free to do +it?" + +"Free?" she faltered; "but you _are_ free, Phil!" + +"I am not," he said fiercely; "no man is free to marry twice under such +conditions. It's a jest at decency and a slap in the face of +civilisation! I'm done for--finished; I had my chance and I failed. Do +you think I consider myself free to try again with the chance of further +bespattering my family?" + +"Wait until you really love," she said tremulously. + +He laughed incredulously. + +"I am glad that it is not true. . . . I am glad," she said. "Oh, Phil! +Phil!--for a single one of the chances we had again and again and +again!--and we did not know--we did not know! And yet--there were +moments--" + +Dry-lipped he looked at her, and dry of eye and lip she raised her head +and stared at him--through him--far beyond at the twin ghosts floating +under the tropic stars locked fast in their first embrace. + +Then she rose, blindly, covering her face with her hands, and he +stumbled to his feet, shrinking back from her--because dead fires were +flickering again, and the ashes of dead roses stirred above the scented +embers--and the magic of all the East was descending like a veil upon +them, and the Phantom of the Past drew nearer, smiling, wide-armed, +crowned with living blossoms. + +The tide rose, swaying her where she stood; her hands fell from her +face. Between them the grave they had dug seemed almost filled with +flowers now--was filling fast. And across it they looked at one another +as though stunned. Then his face paled and he stepped back, staring at +her from stern eyes. + +"Phil," she faltered, bewildered by the mirage, "is it only a bad dream, +after all?" And as the false magic glowed into blinding splendour to +engulf them: "Oh, boy! boy!--is it hell or heaven where we've fallen--?" + +There came a loud rapping at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AFTERGLOW + + +"Phil," she wrote, "I am a little frightened. Do you suppose Boots +suspected who it was? I must have been perfectly mad to go to your rooms +that night; and we both were--to leave the door unlocked with the chance +of somebody walking in. But, Phil, how could I know it was the fashion +for your friends to bang like that and then come in without the excuse +of a response from you? + +"I have been so worried, so anxious, hoping from day to day that you +would write to reassure me that Boots did not recognise me with my back +turned to him and my muff across my eyes. + +"But scared and humiliated as I am I realise that it was well that he +knocked. Even as I write to you here in my own room, behind locked +doors, I am burning with the shame of it. + +"But I am _not_ that kind of woman, Phil; truly, truly, I am not. When +the foolish impulse seized me I had no clear idea of what I wanted +except to see you and learn for myself what you thought about Gerald's +playing at my house after I had promised not to let him. + +"Of course, I understood what I risked in going; I realised what common +interpretation might be put upon what I was doing. But ugly as it might +appear to anybody except you, my motive, you see, must have been quite +innocent--else I should have gone about it in a very different manner. + +"I wanted to see you, that is absolutely all; I was lonely for a +word--even a harsh one--from the sort of man you are. I wanted you to +believe it was in spite of me that Gerald came and played that night. + +"He came without my knowledge. I did not know he was invited. And when +he appeared I did everything to prevent him from playing; _you_ will +never know what took place--what I submitted to-- + +"I am trying to be truthful, Phil; I want to lay my heart bare for +you--but there are things a woman cannot wholly confess. Believe me, I +did what I could. . . . And _that_ is all I can say. Oh, I know what it +costs you to be mixed up in such contemptible complications. I, for my +part, can scarcely bear to have you know so much about me--and what I am +come to. That is my real punishment, Phil--not what you said it was. + +"I do not think it is well for me that you know so much about me. It is +not too difficult to face the outer world with a bold front--or to +deceive any man in it. But our own little world is being rapidly +undeceived; and now the only real man remaining in it has seen my gay +mask stripped off--which is not well for a woman, Phil. + +"I remember what you said about an anchorage; I am trying to clear these +haunted eyes of mine and steer clear of phantoms--for the honour of what +we once were to each other before the world. But steering a ghost-ship +through endless tempests is hard labour, Phil; so be a little kind--a +little more than patient, if my hand grows tired at the wheel. + +"And now--with all these madly inked pages scattered across my desk, I +draw toward me another sheet--the last I have still unstained; to ask at +last the question which I have shrunk from through all these pages--and +for which these pages alone were written: + + "_What_ do you think of me? Asking you, shows how much I care; + dread of your opinion has turned me coward until this last page. + _What_ do you think of me? I am perfectly miserable about Boots, + but that is partly fright--though I know I am safe enough with such + a man. But what sets my cheeks blazing so that I cannot bear to + face my own eyes in the mirror, is the fear of what _you_ must + think of me in the still, secret places of that heart of yours, + which I never, never understood. ALIXE." + +It was a week before he sent his reply--although he wrote many answers, +each in turn revised, corrected, copied, and recopied, only to be +destroyed in the end. But at last he forced himself to meet truth with +truth, cutting what crudity he could from his letter: + + "You ask me what I think of you; but that question should properly + come from me. What do _you_ think of a man who exhorts and warns a + woman to stand fast, and then stands dumb at the first impact of + temptation? + + "A sight for gods and men--that man! Is there any use for me to + stammer out trite phrases of self-contempt? The fact remains that I + am unfit to advise, criticise, or condemn anybody for anything; and + it's high time I realised it. + + "If words of commendation, of courage, of kindly counsel, are + needed by anybody in this world, I am not the man to utter them. + What a hypocrite must I seem to you! I who sat there beside you + preaching platitudes in strong self-complacency, instructing you + how morally edifying it is to be good and unhappy. + + "Then, what happened? I don't know exactly; but I'm trying to be + honest, and I'll tell you what I think happened: + + "You are--you; I am--I; and we are still those same two people who + understood neither the impulse that once swept us together, nor the + forces that tore us apart--ah, more than that! we never understood + each other! And we do not now. + + "That is what happened. We were too near together again; the same + spark leaped, the same blindness struck us, the same impulse swayed + us--call it what we will!--and it quickened out of chaos, grew from + nothing into unreasoning existence. It was the terrific menace of + emotion, stunning us both--simply because you are you and I am I. + And that is what happened. + + "We cannot deny it; we may not have believed it possible--or in + fact considered it at all. I did not; I am sure you did not. Yet it + occurred, and we cannot deny it, and we can no more explain or + understand it than we can understand each other. + + "But one thing we do know--not through reason but through sheer + instinct: We cannot venture to meet again--that way. For I, it + seems, am a man like other men except that I lack character; and + you are--_you_! still unchanged--with all the mystery of + attraction, all the magic force of vitality, all the esoteric + subtlety with which you enveloped me the first moment my eyes met + yours. + + "There was no more reason for it then than there is now; and, as + you admit, it was not love--though, as you also admit, there were + moments approaching it. But nothing can have real being without a + basis of reason; and so, whatever it was, it vanished. This, + perhaps, is only the infernal afterglow. + + "As for me, I am, as you are, all at sea, self-confidence gone, + self-faith lost--a very humble person, without conceit, dazed, + perplexed, but still attempting to steer through toward that safe + anchorage which I dared lately to recommend to you. + + "And it is really there, Alixe, despite the fool who recites his + creed so tritely. + + "All this in attempt to bring order into my own mental confusion; + and the result is that I have formulated nothing. + + "So now I end where I began with that question which answers yours + without the faintest suspicion of reproach: What can you think of + such a man as I am? And in the presence of my _second_ failure your + answer must be that you now think what you once thought of him when + you first realised that he had failed you, PHILIP SELWYN." + +That very night brought him her reply: + + "Phil, dear, I do not blame you for one instant. Why do you say you + ever failed in anything? It was entirely my fault. But I am so + happy that you wrote as you did, taking all the blame, which is + like you. I can look into my mirror now--for a moment or two. + + "It is brave of you to be so frank about what you think came over + us. I can discuss nothing, admit nothing; but you always did reason + more clearly than I. Still, whatever spell it was that menaced us I + know very well could not have threatened you seriously; I know it + because you reason about it so logically. So it could have been + nothing serious. Love alone is serious; and it sometimes comes + slowly, sometimes goes slowly; but if you desire it to come + quickly, close your eves! And if you wish it to vanish, _reason + about it_! + + "We are on very safe ground again, Phil; you see we are making + little epigrams about love. + + "Rosamund is impatient--it's a symphony concert, and I must go--the + horrid little cynic!--I half believe she suspects that I'm writing + to you and tearing off yards of sentiment. It is likely I'd do + that, isn't it!--but I don't care what she thinks. Besides, it + behooves her to be agreeable, and she knows that I know it does! + _Voila_! + + "By the way, I saw Mrs. Gerard's pretty ward at the theatre last + night--Miss Erroll. She certainly is stunning--" + +Selwyn flattened out the letter and deliberately tore out the last +paragraph. Then he set it afire with a match. + +"At least," he said with an ugly look, "I can keep _her_ out of this"; +and he dropped the brittle blackened paper and set his heel on it. Then +he resumed his perusal of the mutilated letter, reread it, and finally +destroyed it. + + "Alixe," he wrote in reply, "we had better stop this letter-writing + before somebody stops us. Anybody desiring to make mischief might + very easily misinterpret what we are doing. I, of course, could not + close the correspondence, so I ask you to do so without any fear + that you will fail to understand why I ask it. Will you?" + +To which she replied: + + "Yes, Phil. Good-bye. + + "ALIXE." + +A box of roses left her his debtor; she was too intelligent to +acknowledge them. Besides, matters were going better with her. + +And that was all for a while. + +Meanwhile Lent had gone, and with it the last soiled snow of winter. It +was an unusually early spring; tulips in Union Square appeared +coincident with crocus and snow-drop; high above the city's haze +wavering wedges of wild-fowl drifted toward the Canadas; a golden +perfumed bloom clotted the naked branches of the park shrubs; Japanese +quince burst into crimson splendour; tender chestnut leaves unfolded; +the willows along the Fifty-ninth Street wall waved banners of gilded +green; and through the sunshine battered butterflies floated, and the +wild bees reappeared, scrambling frantically, powdered to the thighs in +the pollen of a million dandelions. + + "Spring, with that nameless fragrance in the air + Which breathes of all things fair," + +sang a young girl riding in the Park. And she smiled to herself as she +guided her mare through the flowering labyrinths. Other notes of the +Southern poet's haunting song stole soundless from her lips; for it was +only her heart that was singing there in the sun, while her silent, +smiling mouth mocked the rushing melody of the birds. + +Behind her, powerfully mounted, ambled the belted groom; she was riding +alone in the golden weather because her good friend Selwyn was very busy +in his office downtown, and Gerald, who now rode with her occasionally, +was downtown also, and there remained nobody else to ride with. Also the +horses were to be sent to Silverside soon, and she wanted to use them as +much as possible while the Park was at its loveliest. + +She, therefore, galloped conscientiously every morning, sometimes with +Nina, but usually alone. And every afternoon she and Nina drove there, +drinking the freshness of the young year--the most beautiful year of her +life, she told herself, in all the exquisite maturity of her +adolescence. + +So she rode on, straight before her, head high, the sun striking face +and firm, white throat; and in her heart laughed spring eternal, whose +voiceless melody parted her lips. + +Breezes blowing from beds of iris quickened her breath with their +perfume; she saw the tufted lilacs sway in the wind, and the streamers +of mauve-tinted wistaria swinging, all a-glisten with golden bees; she +saw a crimson cardinal winging through the foliage, and amorous tanagers +flashing like scarlet flames athwart the pines. + +From rock and bridge and mouldy archway tender tendrils of living green +fluttered, brushing her cheeks. Beneath the thickets the under-wood +world was very busy, where squirrels squatted or prowled and cunning +fox-sparrows avoided the starlings and blackbirds; and the big +cinnamon-tinted, speckle-breasted thrashers scuffled among last year's +leaves or, balanced on some leafy spray, carolled ecstatically of this +earthly paradise. + +It was near Eighty-sixth Street that a girl, splendidly mounted, saluted +her, and wheeling, joined her--a blond, cool-skinned, rosy-tinted, +smoothly groomed girl, almost too perfectly seated, almost too flawless +and supple in the perfect symmetry of face and figure. + +"Upon my word," she said gaily, "you are certainly spring incarnate, +Miss Erroll--the living embodiment of all this!" She swung her +riding-crop in a circle and laughed, showing her perfect teeth. "But +where is that faithful attendant cavalier of yours this morning? Is he +so grossly material that he prefers Wall Street, as does my good lord +and master?" + +"Do you mean Gerald?" asked Eileen innocently, "or Captain Selwyn?" + +"Oh, either," returned Rosamund airily; "a girl should have something +masculine to talk to on a morning like this. Failing that she should +have some pleasant memories of indiscretions past and others to come, +D.V.; at least one little souvenir to repent--smilingly. Oh, la! Oh, me! +All these wretched birds a-courting and I bumping along on Dobbin, +lacking even my own Gilpin! Shall we gallop?" + +Eileen nodded. + +When at length they pulled up along the reservoir, Eileen's hair had +rebelled as usual and one bright strand eurled like a circle of ruddy +light across her cheek; but Rosamund drew bridle as immaculate as ever +and coolly inspected her companion. + +"What gorgeous hair," she said, staring. "It's worth a coronet, you +know--if you ever desire one." + +"I don't," said the girl, laughing and attempting to bring the insurgent +curl under discipline. + +"I dare say you're right; coronets are out of vogue among us now. It's +the fashion to marry our own good people. By the way, you are +continuing to astonish the town, I hear." + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Fane?" + +"Why, first it was Sudbury, then Draymore, and how everybody says that +Boots--" + +"Boots!" repeated Miss Erroll blankly, then laughed deliciously. + +"Poor, poor Boots! Did they say _that_ about him? Oh, it really is too +bad, Mrs. Fane; it is certainly horridly impertinent of people to say +such things. My only consolation is that Boots won't care; and if he +doesn't, why should I?" + +Rosamund nodded, crossing her crop. + +"At first, though, I did care," continued the girl. "I was so ashamed +that people should gossip whenever a man was trying to be nice to me--" + +"Pooh! It's always the men's own faults. Don't you suppose the martyr's +silence is noisier than a shriek of pain from the house-tops? I know--a +little about men," added Rosamund modestly, "and they invariably say to +themselves after a final rebuff: 'Now, I'll be patient and brave and +I'll bear with noble dignity this cataclysm which has knocked the world +galley-west for me and loosened the moon in its socket and spoiled the +symmetry of the sun.' And they go about being so conspicuously brave +that any debutante can tell what hurts them." + +Eileen was still laughing, but not quite at her ease--the theme being +too personal to suit her. In fact, there usually seemed to be too much +personality in Rosamund's conversation--a certain artificial +indifference to convention, which she, Eileen, did not feel any desire +to disregard. For the elements of reticence and of delicacy were +inherent in her; the training of a young girl had formalised them into +rules. But since her debut she had witnessed and heard so many +violations of convention that now she philosophically accepted such, +when they came from her elders, merely reserving her own convictions in +matters of personal taste and conduct. + +For a while, as they rode, Rosamund was characteristically amusing, +sailing blandly over the shoals of scandal, though Eileen never +suspected it--wittily gay at her own expense, as well as at others, +flitting airily from topic to topic on the wings of a self-assurance +that becomes some women if they know when to stop. But presently the +mischievous perversity in her bubbled up again; she was tired of being +good; she had often meant to try the effect of a gentle shock on Miss +Erroll; and, besides, she wondered just how much truth there might be in +the unpleasantly persistent rumour of the girl's unannounced engagement +to Selwyn. + +"It _would_ be amusing, wouldn't it?" she asked with guileless +frankness; "but, of course, it is not true--this report of their +reconciliation." + +"Whose reconciliation?" asked Miss Erroll innocently. + +"Why, Alixe Ruthven and Captain Selwyn. Everybody is discussing it, you +know." + +"Reconciled? I don't understand," said Eileen, astonished. "They can't +be; how can--" + +"But it _would_ be amusing, wouldn't it? and she could very easily get +rid of Jack Ruthven--any woman could. So if they really mean to +remarry--" + +The girl stared, breathless, astounded, bolt upright in her saddle. + +"Oh!" she protested, while the hot blood mantled throat and cheek, "it +is wickedly untrue. How could such a thing be true, Mrs. Fane! It is--is +so senseless--" + +"That is what I say," nodded Rosamund; "it's so perfectly senseless that +it's amusing--even if they have become such amazingly good friends +again. _I_ never believed there was anything seriously sentimental in +the situation; and their renewed interest in each other is quite the +most frankly sensible way out of any awkwardness," she added cordially. + +Miserably uncomfortable, utterly unable to comprehend, the girl rode on +in silence, her ears ringing with Rosamund's words. And Rosamund, riding +beside her, cool, blond, and cynically amused, continued the theme with +admirable pretence of indifference: + +"It's a pity that ill-natured people are for ever discussing them; and +it makes me indignant, because I've always been very fond of Alixe +Ruthven, and I am positive that she does _not_ correspond with Captain +Selwyn. A girl in her position would be crazy to invite suspicion by +doing the things they say she is doing--" + +"Don't, Mrs. Fane, please, don't!" stammered Eileen; "I--I really can't +listen. I simply will not!" Then bewildered, hurt, and blindly confused +as she was, the instinct to defend flashed up--though from what she was +defending him she did not realise: "It is utterly untrue!" she exclaimed +hotly--"all that yo--all that _they_ say!--whoever they are--whatever +they mean. I cannot understand it--I don't understand, and I will not! +Nor will _he_!" she added with a scornful conviction that disconcerted +Rosamund; "for if you knew him as I do, Mrs. Fane, you would never, +never have spoken as you have." + +Mrs. Fane relished neither the naive rebuke nor the intimation that her +own acquaintance with Selwyn was so limited; and least of all did she +relish the implied intimacy between this red-haired young girl and +Captain Selwyn. + +"Dear Miss Erroll," she said blandly, "I spoke as I did only to assure +you that I, also, disregard such malicious gossip--" + +"But if you disregard it, Mrs. Fane, why do you repeat it?" + +"Merely to emphasise to you my disbelief in it, child," returned +Rosamund. "Do you understand?" + +"Y-es; thank you. Yet, I should never have heard of it at all if you had +not told me." + +Rosamund's colour rose one degree: + +"It is better to hear such things from a friend, is it not?" + +"I didn't know that one's friends said such things; but perhaps it is +better that way, as you say, only, I cannot understand the necessity of +my knowing--of my hearing--because it is Captain Selwyn's affair, after +all." + +"And that," said Rosamund deliberately, "is why I told _you_." + +"Told _me_? Oh--because he and I are such close friends?" + +"Yes--such very close friends that I"--she laughed--"I am informed that +your interests are soon to be identical." + +The girl swung round, self-possessed, but dreadfully pale. + +"If you believed that," she said, "it was vile of you to say what you +said, Mrs. Fane." + +"But I did _not_ believe it, child!" stammered Rosamund, several +degrees redder than became her, and now convinced that it was true. "I +n-never dreamed of offending you, Miss Erroll--" + +"Do you suppose I am too ignorant to take offence?" said the girl +unsteadily. "I told you very plainly that I did not understand the +matters you chose for discussion; but I do understand impertinence when +I am driven to it." + +"I am very, very sorry that you believe I meant it that way," said +Rosamund, biting her lips. + +"What did you mean? You are older than I, you are certainly experienced; +besides, you are married. If you can give it a gentler name than +insolence I would be glad--for your sake, Mrs. Fane. I only know that +you have spoiled my ride, spoiled the day for me, hurt me, humiliated +me, and awakened, not curiosity, not suspicion, but the horror of it, in +me. You did it once before--at the Minsters' dance; not, perhaps, that +you deliberately meant to; but you did it. And your subject was then, as +it is now, Captain Selwyn--my friend--" + +Her voice became unsteady again and her mouth curved; but she held her +head high and her eyes were as fearlessly direct as a child's. + +"And now," she said calmly, "you know where I stand and what I will not +stand. Natural deference to an older woman, the natural self-distrust of +a girl in the presence of social experience--and under its protection as +she had a right to suppose--prevented me from checking you when your +conversation became distasteful. You, perhaps, mistook my reticence for +acquiescence; and you were mistaken. I am still quite willing to remain +on agreeable terms with you, if you wish, and to forget what you have +done to me this morning." + +If Rosamund had anything left to say, or any breath to say it, there +were no indications of it. Never in her flippant existence had she been +so absolutely flattened by any woman. As for this recent graduate from +fudge and olives, she could scarcely realise how utterly and finally she +had been silenced by her. Incredulity, exasperation, amazement had +succeeded each other while Miss Erroll was speaking; chagrin, shame, +helplessness followed as bitter residue. But, in the end, the very +incongruity of the situation came to her aid; for Rosamund very easily +fell a prey to the absurd--even when the amusement was furnished at her +own expense; and a keen sense of the ridiculous had more than once saved +her dainty skirts from a rumpling that her modesty perhaps might have +forgiven. + +"I'm certainly a little beast," she said impulsively, "but I really do +like you. Will you forgive?" + +No genuine appeal to the young girl's generosity had ever been in vain; +she forgave almost as easily as she breathed. Even now in the flush of +just resentment it was not hard for her to forgive; she hesitated only +in order to adjust matters in her own mind. + +Mrs. Fane swung her horse and held out her right hand: + +"Is it _pax_, Miss Erroll? I'm really ashamed of myself. Won't you +forgive me?" + +"Yes," said the young girl, laying her gloved hand on Rosamund's very +lightly; "I've often thought," she added naively, "that I could like +you, Mrs. Fane, if you would only give me a chance." + +"I'll try--you blessed innocent! You've torn me into rags and tatters, +and you did it adorably. What I said was idle, half-witted, gossiping +nonsense. So forget every atom of it as soon as you can, my dear, and +let me prove that I'm not an utter idiot, if _I_ can." + +"That will be delightful," said Eileen with a demure smile; and Rosamund +laughed, too, with full-hearted laughter; for trouble sat very lightly +on her perfect shoulders in the noontide of her strength and youth. Sin +and repentance were rapid matters with Rosamund; cause, effect, and +remorse a quick sequence to be quickly reckoned up, checked off, and +cancelled; and the next blank page turned over to be ruled and filled +with the next impeachment. + +There was, in her, more of mischief than of real malice; and if she did +pinch people to see them wiggle it was partly because she supposed that +the pain would be as momentary as the pinch; for nothing lasted with +her, not even the wiggle. So why should the pain produced by a furtive +tweak interfere with the amusement she experienced in the victim's jump? + +But what had often saved her from a social lynching was her ability to +laugh at her own discomfiture, and her unfeigned liking and respect for +the turning worm. + + * * * * * + +"And, my dear," she said, concluding the account of the adventure to +Mrs. Ruthven that afternoon at Sherry's, "I've never been so roundly +abused and so soundly trounced in my life as I was this blessed morning +by that red-headed novice! Oh, my! Oh, la! I could have screamed with +laughter at my own undoing." + +"It's what you deserved," said Alixe, intensely annoyed, although +Rosamund had not told her all that she had so kindly and gratuitously +denied concerning her relations with Selwyn. "It was sheer effrontery of +you, Rosamund, to put such notions into the head of a child and stir +her up into taking a fictitious interest in Philip Selwyn which I +know--which is perfectly plain to m--to anybody never existed!" + +"Of course it existed!" retorted Rosamund, delighted now to worry Alixe. +"She didn't know it; that is all. It really was simple charity to wake +her up. It's a good match, too, and so obviously and naturally +inevitable that there's no harm in playing prophetess. . . . Anyway, +what do _we_ care, dear? Unless you--" + +"Rosamund!" said Mrs. Ruthven exasperated, "will you ever acquire the +elements of reticence? I don't know why people endure you; I don't, +indeed! And they won't much longer--" + +"Yes, they will, dear; that's what society is for--a protective +association for the purpose of enduring impossible people. . . . I +wish," she added, "that it included husbands, because in some sets it's +getting to be one dreadful case of who's whose. Don't you think so?" + +Alixe, externally calm but raging inwardly, sat pulling on her gloves, +heartily sorry she had lunched with Rosamund. + +The latter, already gloved, had risen and was coolly surveying the room. + +"_Tiens!_" she said, "there is the youthful brother of our red-haired +novice, now. He sees us and he's coming to inflict himself--with another +moon-faced creature. Shall we bolt?" + +Alixe turned and stared at Gerald, who came up boyishly red and +impetuous: + +"How d'ye do, Mrs. Ruthven; did you get my note? How d'ye do, Mrs. Fane; +awf'fly jolly to collide this way. Would you mind if--" + +"You," interrupted Rosamund, "ought to be _down_town--unless you've +concluded to retire and let Wall Street go to smash. What are you +pretending to do in Sherry's at this hour, you very dreadful infant?" + +"I've been lunching with Mr. Neergard--and _would_ you mind--" + +"Yes, I would," began Rosamund, promptly, but Alixe interrupted: "Bring +him over, Gerald." And as the boy thanked her and turned back: + +"I've a word to administer to that boy, Rosamund, so attack the Neergard +creature with moderation, please. You owe me _that_ at least." + +"No, I don't!" said Rosamund, disgusted; "I _won't_ be afflicted with +a--" + +"Nobody wants you to be too civil to him, silly! But Gerald is in his +office, and I want Gerald to do something for me. Please, Rosamund." + +"Oh, well, if you--" + +"Yes, I do. Here he is now; and _don't_ be impossible and frighten him, +Rosamund." + +The presentation of Neergard was accomplished without disaster to +anybody. On his thin nose the dew glistened, and his thick fat hands +were hot; but Rosamund was too bored to be rude to him, and Alixe turned +immediately to Gerald: + +"Yes, I did get your note, but I'm not at home on Tuesday. Can't you +come--wait a moment!--what are you doing this afternoon?" + +"Why, I'm going back to the office with Mr. Neergard--" + +"Nonsense! Oh, Mr. Neergard, _would_ you mind"--very sweetly--"if Mr. +Erroll did not go to the office this afternoon?" + +Neergard looked at her--almost--a fixed and uncomfortable smirk on his +round, red face: "Not at all, Mrs. Ruthven, if you have anything better +for him--" + +"I have--an allopathic dose of it. Thank you, Mr. Neergard. +Rosamund, we ought to start, you know: Gerald!"--with quiet +significance--"_good_-bye, Mr. Neergard. Please do not buy up the rest +of Long Island, because we need a new kitchen-garden very badly." + +Rosamund scarcely nodded his dismissal. And the next moment Neergard +found himself quite alone, standing with the smirk still stamped on his +stiffened features, his hat-brim and gloves crushed in his rigid +fingers, his little black mousy eyes fixed on nothing, as usual. + +A wandering head-waiter thought they were fixed on him and sidled up +hopeful of favours, but Neergard suddenly snarled in his face and moved +toward the door, wiping the perspiration from his nose with the most +splendid handkerchief ever displayed east of Sixth Avenue and west of +Third. + +Mrs. Ruthven's motor moved up from its waiting station; Rosamund was +quite ready to enter when Alixe said cordially: "Where can we drop you, +dear? _Do_ let us take you to the exchange if you are going there--" + +Now Rosamund had meant to go wherever they were going, merely because +they evidently wished to be alone. The abruptness of the check both +irritated and amused her. + +"If I knew anybody in the Bronx I'd make you take me there," she said +vindictively; "but as I don't you may drop me at the Orchils'--you +uncivil creatures. Gerald, I know _you_ want me, anyway, because you've +promised to adore, honour, and obey me. . . . If you'll come with me now +I'll play double dummy with you. No? Well, of all ingratitude! . . . +Thank you, dear, I perceive that this is Fifth Avenue, and furthermore +that this ramshackle chassis of yours has apparently broken down at the +Orchils' curb. . . . Good-bye, Gerald; it never did run smooth, you +know. I mean the course of T.L. as well as this motor. Try to be a good +boy and keep moving; a rolling stone acquires a polish, and you are not +in the moss-growing business, I'm sure--" + +"Rosamund! For goodness' sake!" protested Alixe, her gloved hands at her +ears. + +"Dear!" said Rosamund cheerfully, "take your horrid little boy!" + +And she smiled dazzlingly upon Gerald, then turned up her pretty nose at +him, but permitted him to attend her to the door. + +When he returned to Alixe, and the car was speeding Parkward, he began +again, eagerly: + +"Jack asked me to come up and, of course, I let you know, as I promised +I would. But it's all right, Mrs. Ruthven, because Jack said the stakes +will not be high this time--" + +"You accepted!" demanded Alixe, in quick displeasure. + +"Why, yes--as the stakes are not to amount to anything--" + +"Gerald!" + +"What?" he said uneasily. + +"You promised me that you would not play again in my house!" + +"I--I said, for more than I could afford--" + +"No, you said you would not play; that is what you promised, Gerald." + +"Well, I meant for high stakes; I--well, you don't want to drive me out +altogether--even from the perfectly harmless pleasure of playing for +nominal stakes--" + +"Yes, I do!" + +"W-why?" asked the boy in hurt surprise. + +"Because it is dangerous sport, Gerald--" + +"What! To play for a few cents a point--" + +"Yes, to play for anything. And as far as that goes there will be no +such play as you imagine." + +"Yes, there will--I beg your pardon--but Jack Ruthven said so--" + +"Gerald, listen to me. A bo--a man like yourself has no business playing +with people whose losses never interfere with their appetites next day. +A business man has no right to play such a game, anyway. I wonder what +Mr. Neergard would say if he knew you--" + +"Neergard! Why, he does know." + +"You confessed to him?" + +"Y-es; I had to. I was obliged to--to ask somebody for an advance--" + +"You went to him? Why didn't you go to Captain Selwyn?--or to Mr. +Gerard?" + +"I did!--not to Captain Selwyn--I was ashamed to. But I went to Austin +and he fired up and lit into me--and we had a muss-up--and I've stayed +away since." + +"Oh, Gerald! And it simply proves me right." + +"No, it doesn't; I did go to Neergard and made a clean breast of it. And +he let me have what I wanted like a good fellow--" + +"And made you promise not to do it again!" + +"No, he didn't; he only laughed. Besides, he said that he wished he had +been in the game--" + +"What!" exclaimed Alixe. + +"He's a first-rate fellow," insisted Gerald, reddening; "and it was very +nice of you to let me bring him over to-day. . . . And he knows +everybody downtown, too. He comes from a very old Dutch family, but he +had to work pretty hard and do without college. . . . I'd like it +awfully if you'd let me--if you wouldn't mind being civil to him--once +or twice, you know--" + +Mrs. Ruthven lay back in her seat, thoroughly annoyed. + +"My theory," insisted the boy with generous conviction, "is that a man +is what he makes himself. People talk about climbers and butters-in, but +where would anybody be in this town if nobody had ever butted in? It's +all rot, this aping the caste rules of established aristocracies; a +decent fellow ought to be encouraged. Anyway, I'm going to propose, him +for the Stuyvesant and the Proscenium. Why not?" + +"I see. And now you propose to bring him to my house?" + +"If you'll let me. I asked Jack and he seemed to think it might be all +right if you cared to ask him to play--" + +"I won't!" cried Alixe, revolted. "I will not turn my drawing-rooms into +a clearing-house for every money-laden social derelict in town! I've had +enough of that; I've endured the accumulated wreckage too long!--weird +treasure-craft full of steel and oil and coal and wheat and Heaven knows +what!--I won't do it, Gerald; I'm sick of it all--sick! sick!" + +The sudden, flushed outburst stunned the boy. Bewildered, he stared +round-eyed at the excited young matron who was growing more incensed and +more careless of what she exposed every second: + +"I will not make a public gambling-hell out of my own house!" she +repeated, dark eyes very bright and cheeks afire; "I will not continue +to stand sponsor for a lot of queer people simply because they don't +care what they lose in Mrs. Ruthven's house! You babble to me of limits, +Gerald; this is the limit! Do you--or does anybody else suppose that I +don't know what is being said about us?--that play is too high in our +house?--that we are not too difficile in our choice of intimates as long +as they can stand the pace!" + +"I--I never believed that," insisted the boy, miserable to see the tears +flash in her eyes and her mouth quiver. + +"You may as well believe it for it's true!" she said, exasperated. + +"T-true!--Mrs. Ruthven!" + +"Yes, true, Gerald! I--I don't care whether you know it; I don't care, +as long as you stay away. I'm sick of it all, I tell you. Do you think I +was educated for this?--for the wife of a chevalier of industry--" + +"M-Mrs. Ruthven!" he gasped; but she was absolutely reckless now--and +beneath it all, perhaps, lay a certainty of the boy's honour. She knew +he was to be trusted--was the safest receptacle for wrath so long +repressed. She let prudence go with a parting and vindictive slap, and +opened her heart to the astounded boy. The tempest lasted a few seconds; +then she ended as abruptly as she began. + +To him she had always been what a pretty young matron usually is to a +well-bred but hare-brained youth just untethered. Their acquaintance +had been for him a combination of charming experiences diluted with +gratitude for her interest and a harmless _soupcon_ of sentimentality. +In her particular case, however, there was a little something more--a +hint of the forbidden--a troubled enjoyment, because he knew, of course, +that Mrs. Ruthven was on no footing at all with the Gerards. So in her +friendship he savoured a piquancy not at all distasteful to a very young +man's palate. + +But now!--he had never, never seen her like this--nor any woman, for +that matter--and he did not know where to look or what to do. + +She was sitting back in the limousine, very limp and flushed; and the +quiver of her under lip and the slightest dimness of her averted brown +eyes distressed him dreadfully. + +"Dear Mrs. Ruthven," he blurted out with clumsy sympathy, "you mustn't +think such things, b-because they're all rot, you see; and if any fellow +ever said those things to me I'd jolly soon--" + +"Do you mean to say you've never heard us criticised?" + +"I--well--everybody is--criticised, of course--" + +"But not as we are! Do you read the papers? Well, then, do you +understand how a woman must feel to have her husband continually made +the butt of foolish, absurd, untrue stories--as though he were a +performing poodle! I--I'm sick of that, too, for another thing. Week +after week, month by month, unpleasant things have been accumulating; +and they're getting too heavy, Gerald--too crushing for my +shoulders. . . . Men call me restless. What wonder! Women link my name +with any man who is k-kind to me! Is there no excuse then for what they +call my restlessness? . . . What woman would not be restless whose +private affairs are the gossip of everybody? Was it not enough that I +endured terrific publicity when--when trouble overtook me two years +ago? . . . I suppose I'm a fool to talk like this; but a girl must do it +some time or burst!--and to whom am I to go? . . . There was only one +person; and I can't talk to--that one; he--that person knows too much +about me, anyway; which is not good for a woman, Gerald, not good for a +good woman. . . . I mean a pretty good woman; the kind people's sisters +can still talk to, you know. . . . For I'm nothing more interesting than +a _divorcee_, Gerald; nothing more dangerous than an unhappy little +fool. . . . I wish I were. . . . But I'm still at the wheel! . . . A +man I know calls it hard steering but assures me that there's anchorage +ahead. . . . He's a splendid fellow, Gerald; you ought to know +him--well--some day; he's just a clean-cut, human, blundering, erring, +unreasonable,lovable man whom any woman, who is not a fool herself, +could manage. . . . Some day I should like to have you know +him--intimately. He's good for people of your sort--even good for a +restless, purposeless woman of my sort. Peace to him!--if there's any +in the world. . . . Turn your back; I'm sniveling." + +A moment afterward she had calmed completely; and now she stole a +curious side glance at the boy and blushed a little when he looked back +at her earnestly. Then she smiled and quietly withdrew the hand he had +been holding so tightly in both of his. + +"So there we are, my poor friend," she concluded with a shrug; "the old +penny shocker, you know, 'Alone in a great city!'--I've dropped my +handkerchief." + +"I want you to believe me your friend," said Gerald, in the low, +resolute voice of unintentional melodrama. + +"Why, thank you; are you so sure you want that, Gerald?" + +"Yes, as long as I live!" he declared, generous emotion in the +ascendant. A pretty woman upset him very easily even under normal +circumstances. But beauty in distress knocked him flat--as it does every +wholesome boy who is worth his salt. + +And he said so in his own naive fashion; and the more eloquent he grew +the more excited he grew and the deeper and blacker appeared her wrongs +to him. + +At first she humoured him, and rather enjoyed his fresh, eager sympathy; +after a little his increasing ardour inclined her to laugh; but it was +very splendid and chivalrous and genuine ardour, and the inclination to +laugh died out, for emotion is contagious, and his earnestness not only +flattered her legitimately but stirred the slackened tension of her +heart-strings until, tightening again, they responded very faintly. + +"I had no idea that _you_ were lonely," he declared. + +"Sometimes I am, a little, Gerald." She ought to have known better. +Perhaps she did. + +"Well," he began, "couldn't I come and--" + +"No, Gerald." + +"I mean just to see you sometimes and have another of these jolly +talks--" + +"Do you call this a jolly talk?"--with deep reproach. + +"Why--not exactly; but I'm awfully interested, Mrs. Ruthven, and we +understand each other so well--" + +"I don't understand _you_", she was imprudent enough to say. + +This was delightful! Certainly he must be a particularly sad and subtle +dog if this clever but misunderstood young matron found him what in +romance is known as an "enigma." + +So he protested with smiling humility that he was quite transparent; she +insisted on doubting him and contrived to look disturbed in her mind +concerning the probable darkness of that past so dear to any young man +who has had none. + +As for Alixe, she also was mildly flattered--a trifle disdainfully +perhaps, but still genuinely pleased at the honesty of this crude +devotion. She was touched, too; and, besides, she trusted him; for he +was clearly as transparent as the spring air. Also most women lugged a +boy about with them; she had had several, but none as nice as Gerald. To +tie him up and tack his license on was therefore natural to her; and if +she hesitated to conclude his subjection in short order it was that, far +in a corner of her restless soul, there hid an ever-latent fear of +Selwyn; of his opinions concerning her fitness to act mentor to the boy +of whom he was fond, and whose devotion to him was unquestioned. + +Yet now, in spite of that--perhaps even partly because of it, she +decided on the summary taming of Gerald; so she let her hand fall, by +accident, close to his on the cushioned seat, to see what he'd do about +it. + +It took him some time to make up his mind; but when he did he held it so +gingerly, so respectfully, that she was obliged to look out of the +window. Clearly he was quite the safest and nicest of all the unfledged +she had ever possessed. + +"Please, don't," she said sadly. + +And by that token she took him for her own. + + * * * * * + +She was very light-hearted that evening when she dropped him at the +Stuyvesant Club and whizzed away to her own house, for he had promised +not to play again on her premises, and she had promised to be nice to +him and take him about when she was shy of an escort. She also repeated +that he was truly an "enigma" and that she was beginning to be a little +afraid of him, which was an economical way of making him very proud and +happy. Being his first case of beauty in distress, and his first +harmless love-affair with a married woman, he looked about him as he +entered the club and felt truly that he had already outgrown the young +and callow innocents who haunted it. + + * * * * * + +On her way home Alixe smilingly reviewed the episode until doubt of +Selwyn's approval crept in again; and her amused smile had faded when +she reached her home. + +The house of Ruthven was a small but ultra-modern limestone affair, +between Madison and Fifth; a pocket-edition of the larger mansions of +their friends, but with less excuse for the overelaboration since the +dimensions were only twenty by a hundred. As a matter of fact its narrow +ornate facade presented not a single quiet space the eyes might rest on +after a tiring attempt to follow and codify the arabesques, foliations, +and intricate vermiculations of what some disrespectfully dubbed as +"near-aissance." + +However, into this limestone bonbon-box tripped Mrs. Ruthven, mounted +the miniature stairs with a whirl of her scented skirts, peeped into the +drawing-room, but continued mounting until she whipped into her own +apartments, separated from those of her lord and master by a locked +door. + +That is, the door had been locked for a long, long time; but presently, +to her intense surprise and annoyance, it slowly opened, and a little +man appeared in slippered feet. + +He was a little man, and plump, and at first glance his face appeared +boyish and round and quite guiltless of hair or of any hope of it. + +But, as he came into the electric light, the hardness of his features +was apparent; he was no boy; a strange idea that he had never been +assailed some people. His face was puffy and pallid and faint blue +shadows hinted of closest shaving; and the line from the wing of the +nostrils to the nerveless corners of his thin, hard mouth had been +deeply bitten by the acid of unrest. + +For the remainder he wore pale-rose pajamas under a silk-and-silver +kimona, an obi pierced with a jewelled scarf-pin; and he was smoking a +cigarette as thin as a straw. + +"Well!" said his young wife in astonished displeasure, instinctively +tucking her feet--from which her maid had just removed the shoes--under +her own chamber-robe. + +"Send her out a moment," he said, with a nod of his head toward the +maid. His voice was agreeable and full--a trifle precise and +overcultivated, perhaps. + +When the maid retired, Alixe sat up on the lounge, drawing her skirts +down over her small stockinged feet. + +"What on earth is the matter?" she demanded. + +"The matter is," he said, "that Gerald has just telephoned me from the +Stuyvesant that he isn't coming." + +"Well?" + +"No, it isn't well. This is some of your meddling." + +"What if it is?" she retorted; but her breath was coming quicker. + +"I'll tell you; you can get up and ring him up and tell him you expect +him to-night." + +She shook her head, eyeing him all the while. + +"I won't do it, Jack. What do you want him for? He can't play with the +people who play here; he doesn't know the rudiments of play. He's only a +boy; his money is so tied up that he has to borrow if he loses very +much. There's no sport in playing with a boy like that--" + +"So you've said before, I believe, but I'm better qualified to judge +than you are. Are you going to call him up?" + +"No, I am not." + +He turned paler. "Get up and go to that telephone!" + +"You little whippet," she said slowly, "I was once a soldier's wife--the +only decent thing I ever have been. This bullying ends now--here, at +this instant! If you've any dirty work to do, do it yourself. I've done +my share and I've finished." + +He was astonished; that was plain enough. But it was the sudden +overwhelming access of fury that weakened him and made him turn, hand +outstretched, blindly seeking for a chair. Rage, even real anger, were +emotions he seldom had to reckon with, for he was a very tired and bored +and burned-out gentleman, and vivid emotion was not good for his +arteries, the doctors told him. + +He found his chair, stood a moment with his back toward his wife, then +very slowly let himself down into the chair and sat facing her. There +was moisture on his soft, pallid skin, a nervous twitching of the under +lip; he passed one heavily ringed hand across his closely shaven jaw, +still staring at her. + +"I want to tell you something," he said. "You've got to stop your +interference with my affairs, and stop it now." + +"I am not interested in your affairs," she said unsteadily, still shaken +by her own revolt, still under the shock of her own arousing to a +resistance that had been long, long overdue. "If you mean," she went on, +"that the ruin of this boy is your affair, then I'll make it mine from +this moment. I've told you that he shall not play; and he shall not. And +while I'm about it I'll admit what you are preparing to accuse me of; I +_did_ make Sandon Craig promise to keep away; I _did_ try to make that +little fool Scott Innis promise, too; and when he wouldn't I informed +his father. . . . And every time you try your dirty bucket-shop methods +on boys like that, I'll do the same." + +He swore at her quite calmly; she smiled, shrugged, and, imprisoning her +knees in her clasped hands, leaned back and looked at him. + +"What a ninny I have been," she said, "to be afraid of you so long!" + +A gleam crossed his faded eyes, but he let her remark pass for the +moment. Then, when he was quite sure that violent emotion had been +exhausted within him: + +"Do you want your bills paid?" he asked. "Because, if you do, Fane, +Harmon & Co. are not going to pay them." + +"We are living beyond our means?" she inquired disdainfully. + +"Not if you will be good enough to mind your business, my friend. I've +managed this establishment on our winnings for two years. It's a detail; +but you might as well know it. My association with Fane, Harmon & Co. +runs the Newport end of it, and nothing more." + +"What did you marry me for?" she asked curiously. + +A slight colour came into his face: "Because that damned Rosamund Fane +lied about you." + +"Oh! . . . You knew that in Manila? You'd heard about it, hadn't +you--the Western timber-lands? Rosamund didn't mean to lie--only the +titles were all wrong, you know. . . . And so you made a bad break, +Jack; is that it?" + +"Yes, that is it." + +"And it cost you a fortune, and me a--husband. Is that it, my friend?" + +"I can afford you if you will stop your meddling," he said coolly. + +"I see; I am to stop my meddling and you are to continue your downtown +gambling in your own house in the evenings." + +"Precisely. It happens that I am sufficiently familiar with the +stock-market to make a decent living out of the Exchange; and it also +happens that I am sufficiently fortunate with cards to make the pleasure +of playing fairly remunerative. Any man who can put up proper margin has +a right to my services; any man whom I invite and who can take up his +notes, has a right to play under my roof. If his note goes to protest, +he forfeits that right. Now will you kindly explain to yourself exactly +how this matter can be of any interest to you?" + +"I have explained it," she said wearily. "Will you please go, now?" + +He sat a moment, then rose: + +"You make a point of excluding Gerald?" + +"Yes." + +"Very well; I'll telephone Draymore. And"--he looked back from the door +of his own apartments--"I got Julius Neergard on the wire this afternoon +and he'll dine with us." + +He gathered up his shimmering kimona, hesitated, halted, and again +looked back. + +"When you're dressed," he drawled, "I've a word to say to you about the +game to-night, and another about Gerald." + +"I shall not play," she retorted scornfully, "nor will Gerald." + +"Oh, yes, you will--and play your best, too. And I'll expect him next +time." + +"I shall not play!" + +He said deliberately: "You will not only play, but play cleverly; and in +the interim, while dressing, you will reflect how much more agreeable it +is to play cards here than the fool at ten o'clock at night in the +bachelor apartments of your late lamented." + +And he entered his room; and his wife, getting blindly to her feet, +every atom of colour gone from lip and cheek, stood rigid, both small +hands clutching the foot-board of the gilded bed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE UNEXPECTED + + +Differences of opinion between himself and Neergard concerning the +ethics of good taste involved in forcing the Siowitha Club matter, +Gerald's decreasing attention to business and increasing intimacy with +the Fane-Ruthven coterie, began to make Selwyn very uncomfortable. The +boy's close relations with Neergard worried him most of all; and though +Neergard finally agreed to drop the Siowitha matter as a fixed policy in +which Selwyn had been expected to participate at some indefinite date, +the arrangement seemed only to cement the man's confidential +companionship with Gerald. + +This added to Selwyn's restlessness; and one day in early spring he had +a long conference with Gerald--a most unsatisfactory one. Gerald, for +the first time, remained reticent; and when Selwyn, presuming on the +cordial understanding between them, pressed him a little, the boy turned +sullen; and Selwyn let the matter drop very quickly. + +But neither tact nor caution seemed to serve now; Gerald, more and more +engrossed in occult social affairs of which he made no mention to +Selwyn, was still amiable and friendly, even at times cordial and +lovable; but he was no longer frank or even communicative; and Selwyn, +fearing to arouse him again to sullenness or perhaps even to suspicious +defiance, forbore to press him beyond the most tentative advances +toward the regaining of his confidence. + +This, very naturally, grieved and mortified the elder man; but what +troubled him still more was that Gerald and Neergard were becoming so +amazingly companionable; for it was easy to see that they had in common +a number of personal interests which he did not share, and that their +silence concerning these interests amounted to a secrecy almost +offensive. + +Again and again, coming unexpectedly upon them, he noticed that their +confab ceased with his appearance. Often, too, glances of warning +intelligence passed between them in his presence, which, no doubt, they +supposed were unnoticed by him. + +They left the office together frequently, now; they often lunched +uptown. Whether they were in each other's company evenings, Selwyn did +not know, for Gerald no longer volunteered information as to his +whereabouts or doings. And all this hurt Selwyn, and alarmed him, too, +for he was slowly coming to the conclusion that he did not like +Neergard, that he would never sign articles of partnership with him, and +that even his formal associateship with the company was too close a +relation for his own peace of mind. But on Gerald's account he stayed +on; he did not like to leave the boy alone for his sister's sake as well +as for his own. + +Matters drifted that way through early spring. He actually grew to +dislike both Neergard and the business of Neergard & Co.--for no one +particular reason, perhaps, but in general; though he did not yet care +to ask himself to be more precise in his unuttered criticisms. + +However, detail and routine, the simpler alphabet of the business, +continued to occupy him. He consulted both Neergard and Gerald as usual; +they often consulted him or pretended to do so. Land was bought and +sold and resold, new projects discussed, new properties appraised, new +mortgage loans negotiated; and solely because of his desire to remain +near Gerald, this sort of thing might have continued indefinitely. But +Neergard broke his word to him. + +And one morning, before he left his rooms at Mrs. Greeve's lodgings to +go downtown, Percy Draymore called him up on the telephone; and as that +overfed young man's usual rising hour was notoriously nearer noon than +eight o'clock, it surprised Selwyn to be asked to remain in his rooms +for a little while until Draymore and one or two friends could call on +him personally concerning a matter of importance. + +He therefore breakfasted leisurely; and he was still scanning the real +estate columns of a morning paper when Mrs. Greeve came panting to his +door and ushered in a file of rather sleepy but important looking +gentlemen, evidently unaccustomed to being abroad so early, and bored to +death with their experience. + +They were men he knew only formally, or, at best, merely as fellow club +members; men whom he met when a dance or dinner took him out of the less +pretentious sets he personally affected; men whom the newspapers and the +public knew too well to speak of as "well known." + +First there was Percy Draymore, overgroomed for a gentleman, fat, +good-humoured, and fashionable--one of the famous Draymore family noted +solely for their money and their tight grip on it; then came Sanxon +Orchil, the famous banker and promoter, small, urbane, dark, with that +rich almost oriental coloring which he may have inherited from his +Cordova ancestors who found it necessary to dehumanise their names when +Rome offered them the choice with immediate eternity as alternative. + +Then came a fox-faced young man, Phoenix Mottly, elegant arbiter of all +pertaining to polo and the hunt--slim-legged, hatchet-faced--and more +presentable in the saddle than out of it. He was followed by Bradley +Harmon, with his washed-out colouring of a consumptive Swede and his +corn-coloured beard; and, looming in the rear like an amiable +brontasaurus, George Fane, whose swaying neck carried his head as a +camel carries his, nodding as he walks. + +"Well!" said Selwyn, perplexed but cordial as he exchanged amenities +with each gentleman who entered, "this is a killing combination of +pleasure and mortification--because I haven't any more breakfast to +offer you unless you'll wait until I ring for the Sultana--" + +"Breakfast! Oh, damn! I've breakfasted on a pill and a glass of vichy +for ten years," protested Draymore, "and the others either have +swallowed their cocktails, or won't do it until luncheon. I say, Selwyn, +you must think this a devilishly unusual proceeding." + +"Pleasantly unusual, Draymore. Is this a delegation to tend me the +nomination for the down-and-out club, perhaps?" + +Fane spoke up languidly: "It rather looks as though we were the +down-and-out delegation at present; doesn't it, Orchil?" + +"I don't know," said Orchil; "it seems a trifle more promising to me +since I've had the pleasure of seeing Captain Selwyn face to face. Go +on, Percy; let the horrid facts be known." + +"Well--er--oh, hang it all!" blurted out Draymore, "we heard last night +how that fellow--how Neergard has been tampering with our farmers--what +underhand tricks he has been playing us; and I frankly admit to you +that we're a worried lot of near-sports. That's what this dismal matinee +signifies; and we've come to ask you what it all really means." + +"We lost no time, you see," added Orchil, caressing the long pomaded +ends of his kinky moustache and trying to catch a glimpse of them out of +his languid oriental eyes. He had been trying to catch this glimpse for +thirty years; he was a persistent man with plenty of leisure. + +"We lost no time," repeated Draymore, "because it's a devilish unsavoury +situation for us. The Siowitha Club fully realises it, Captain Selwyn, +and its members--some of 'em--thought that perhaps--er--you--ah--being +the sort of man who can--ah--understand the sort of language we +understand, it might not be amiss to--to--" + +"Why did you not call on Mr. Neergard?" asked Selwyn coolly. Yet he was +taken completely by surprise, for he did not know that Neergard had gone +ahead and secured options on his own responsibility--which practically +amounted to a violation of the truce between them. + +Draymore hesitated, then with the brutality characteristic of the +overfed: "I don't give a damn, Captain Selwyn, what Neergard thinks; but +I do want to know what a gentleman like yourself, accidentally +associated with that man, thinks of this questionable proceeding." + +"Do you mean by 'questionable proceeding' your coming here?--or do you +refer to the firm's position in this matter?" asked Selwyn sharply. +"Because, Draymore, I am not very widely experienced in the customs and +usages of commercial life, and I do not know whether it is usual for an +associate member of a firm to express, unauthorised, his views on +matters concerning the firm to any Tom, Dick, and Harry who questions +him." + +"But you know what is the policy of your own firm," suggested Harmon, +wincing, and displaying his teeth under his bright red lips; "and all we +wish to know is, what Neergard expects us to pay for this rascally +lesson in the a-b-c of Long Island realty." + +"I don't know," replied Selwyn, bitterly annoyed, "what Mr. Neergard +proposes to do. And if I did I should refer you to him." + +"May I ask," began Orchil, "whether the land will be ultimately for +sale?" + +"Oh, everything's always for sale," broke in Mottly impatiently; "what's +the use of asking that? What you meant to inquire was the price we're +expected to pay for this masterly squeeze in realty." + +"And to that," replied Selwyn more sharply still, "I must answer again +that I don't know. I know nothing about it; I did not know that Mr. +Neergard had acquired control of the property; I don't know what he +means to do with it. And, gentlemen, may I ask why you feel at liberty +to come to me instead of to Mr. Neergard?" + +"A desire to deal with one of our own kind, I suppose," returned +Draymore bluntly. "And, for that matter," he said, turning to the +others, "we might have known that Captain Selwyn could have had no hand +in and no knowledge of such an underbred and dirty--" + +Harmon plucked him by the sleeve, but Draymore shook him off, his little +piggish eyes sparkling. + +"What do I care!" he sneered, losing his temper; "we're in the clutches +of a vulgar, skinflint Dutchman, and he'll wring _us_ dry whether or +not we curse _him_ out. Didn't I tell you that Philip Selwyn had nothing +to do with it? If he had, and I was wrong, our journey here might as +well have been made to Neergard's office. For any man who will do such a +filthy thing--" + +"One moment, Draymore," cut in Selwyn; and his voice rang unpleasantly; +"if you are simply complaining because you have been outwitted, go +ahead; but if you think there has been any really dirty business in this +matter, go to Mr. Neergard. Otherwise, being his associate, I shall not +only decline to listen but also ask you to leave my apartments." + +"Captain Selwyn is perfectly right," observed Orchil coolly. "Do you +think, Draymore, that it is very good taste in you to come into a man's +place and begin slanging and cursing a member of his firm for crooked +work?" + +"Besides," added Mottly, "it's not crooked; it's only contemptible. +Anyway, we know with whom we have to deal, now; but some of you fellows +must do the dealing--I'd rather pay and keep away than ask Neergard to +go easy--and have him do it." + +"I don't know," said Fane, grinning his saurian grin, "why you all +assume that Neergard is such a social outcast. I played cards with him +last week and he lost like a gentleman." + +"I didn't say he was a social outcast," retorted Mottly--"because he's +never been inside of anything to be cast out, you know." + +"He seems to be inside this deal," ventured Orchil with his suave smile. +And to Selwyn, who had been restlessly facing first one, then another: +"We came--it was the idea of several among us--to put the matter up to +you. Which was rather foolish, because you couldn't have engineered the +thing and remained what we know you to be. So--" + +"Wait!" said Selwyn brusquely; "I do not admit for one moment that there +is anything dishonourable in this deal!--nor do I accept your right to +question it from that standpoint. As far as I can see, it is one of +those operations which is considered clever among business folk, and +which is admired and laughed over in reputable business circles. And I +have no doubt that hundreds of well-meaning business men do that sort of +thing daily--yes, thousands!" He shrugged his broad shoulders. +"Because I personally have not chosen to engage in matters of +this--ah--description, is no reason for condemning the deal or its +method--" + +"Every reason!" said Orchil, laughing cordially--"_every_ reason, +Captain Selwyn. Thank you; we know now exactly where we stand. It was +very good of you to let us come, and I'm sorry some of us had the bad +taste to show any temper--" + +"He means me," added Draymore, offering his hand; "good-bye, Captain +Selwyn; I dare say we are up against it hard." + +"Because we've got to buy in that property or close up the Siowitha," +added Mottly, coming over to make his adieux. "By the way, Selwyn, you +ought to be one of us in the Siowitha--" + +"Thank you, but isn't this rather an awkward time to suggest it?" said +Selwyn good-humouredly. + +Fane burst into a sonorous laugh and wagged his neck, saying: "Not at +all! Not at all! Your reward for having the decency to stay out of the +deal is an invitation from us to come in and be squeezed into a jelly by +Mr. Neergard. Haw! Haw!" + +And so, one by one, with formal or informal but evidently friendly +leave-taking, they went away. And Selwyn followed them presently, +walking until he took the Subway at Forty-second Street for his office. + +As he entered the elaborate suite of rooms he noticed some bright new +placards dangling from the walls of the general office, and halted to +read them: + + "WHY PAY RENT! + +What would you say if we built a house for you in Beautiful Siowitha +Park and gave you ten years to pay for it! + + If anybody says + + YOU ARE A FOOL! + +to expect this, refer him to us and we will answer him according to his +folly. + + TO PAY RENT + +when you might own a home in Beautiful Siowitha Park, is not wise. We +expect to furnish plans, or build after your own plans. + + All City Improvements + Are Contemplated! + Map and Plans of + Beautiful Siowitha Park + Will probably be ready + In the Near Future. + + Julius Neergard & Co. + Long Island Real Estate." + +Selwyn reddened with anger and beckoned to a clerk: + +"Is Mr. Neergard in his office?" + +"Yes, sir, with Mr. Erroll." + +"Please say that I wish to see him." + +He went into his own office, pocketed his mail, and still wearing hat +and gloves came out again just as Gerald was leaving Neergard's office. + +"Hello, Gerald!" he said pleasantly; "have you anything on for +to-night?" + +"Y-es," said the hoy, embarrassed--"but if there is anything I can do +for you--" + +"Not unless you are free for the evening," returned the other; "are +you?" + +"I'm awfully sorry--" + +"Oh, all right. Let me know when you expect to be free--telephone me at +my rooms--" + +"I'll let you know when I see you here to-morrow," said the boy; but +Selwyn shook his head: "I'm not coming here to-morrow, Gerald"; and he +walked leisurely into Neergard's office and seated himself. + +"So you have committed the firm to the Siowitha deal?" he inquired +coolly. + +Neergard looked up--and then past him: "No, not the firm. You did not +seem to be interested in the scheme, so I went on without you. I'm +swinging it for my personal account." + +"Is Mr. Erroll in it?" + +"I said that it was a private matter," replied Neergard, but his manner +was affable. + +"I thought so; it appears to me like a matter quite personal to you and +characteristic of you, Mr. Neergard. And that being established, I am +now ready to dissolve whatever very loose ties have ever bound me in any +association with this company and yourself." + +Neergard's close-set black eyes shifted a point nearer to Selwyn's; the +sweat on his nose glistened. + +"Why do you do this?" he asked slowly. "Has anybody offended you?" + +"Do you _really_ wish to know?" + +"Yes, I certainly do, Captain Selwyn." + +"Very well; it's because I don't like your business methods, I don't +like--several other things that are happening in this office. It's +purely a difference of views; and that is enough explanation, Mr. +Neergard." + +"I think our views may very easily coincide--" + +"You are wrong; they could not. I ought to have known that when I came +back here. And now I have only to thank you for receiving me, at my own +request, for a six months' trial, and to admit that I am not qualified +to co-operate with this kind of a firm." + +"That," said Neergard angrily, "amounts to an indictment of the firm. If +you express yourself in that manner outside, the firm will certainly +resent it!" + +"My personal taste will continue to govern my expressions, Mr. Neergard; +and I believe will prevent any further business relations between us. +And, as we never had any other kind of relations, I have merely to +arrange the details through an attorney." + +Neergard looked after him in silence; the tiny beads of sweat on his +nose united and rolled down in a big shining drop, and the sneer etched +on his broad and brightly mottled features deepened to a snarl when +Selwyn had disappeared. + +For the social prestige which Selwyn's name had brought the firm, he had +patiently endured his personal dislike and contempt for the man after he +found he could do nothing with him in any way. + +He had accepted Selwyn purely in the hope of social advantage, and with +the knowledge that Selwyn could have done much for him after business +hours; if not from friendship, at least from interest, or a lively sense +of benefits to come. For that reason he had invited him to participate +in the valuable Siowitha deal, supposing a man as comparatively poor as +Selwyn would not only jump at the opportunity, but also prove +sufficiently grateful later. And he had been amazed and disgusted at +Selwyn's attitude. But he had not supposed the man would sever his +connection with the firm if he, Neergard, went ahead on his own +responsibility. It astonished and irritated him; it meant, instead of +selfish or snobbish indifference to his own social ambitions, an enemy +to block his entrance into what he desired--the society of those made +notorious in the columns of the daily press. + +For Neergard cared only for the notorious in the social scheme; nothing +else appealed to him. He had, all his life, read with avidity of the +extravagances, the ostentation, the luxurious effrontery, the thinly +veiled viciousness of what he believed to be society, and he craved it +from the first, working his thick hands to the bone in dogged +determination to one day participate in and satiate himself with the +easy morality of what he read about in his penny morning paper--in the +days when even a penny was to be carefully considered. + +That was what he wanted from society--the best to be had in vice. That +was why he had denied himself in better days. It was for that he hoarded +every cent while actual want sharpened his wits and his thin nose; it +was in that hope that he received Selwyn so cordially as a possible +means of entrance into regions he could not attain unaided; it was for +that reason he was now binding Gerald to him through remission of +penalties for slackness, through loans and advances, through a +companionship which had already landed him in the Ruthven's card-room, +and promised even more from Mr. Fane, who had won his money very easily. + +For Neergard did not care how he got in, front door or back door, +through kitchen or card-room, as long as he got in somehow. All he +desired was the chance to use opportunity in his own fashion, and wring +from the forbidden circle all and more than they had unconsciously wrung +from him in the squalid days of a poverty for which no equality he might +now enjoy, no liberty of license, no fraternity in dissipation, could +wholly compensate. + +He was fairly on the outer boundary now, though still very far outside. +But a needy gentleman inside was already compromised and practically +pledged to support him; for his meeting with Jack Ruthven through Gerald +had proven of greatest importance. He had lost gracefully to Ruthven; +and in doing it had taken that gentleman's measure. And though Ruthven +himself was a member of the Siowitha, Neergard had made no error in +taking him secretly into the deal where together they were now in a +position to exploit the club, from which Ruthven, of course, would +resign in time to escape any assessment himself. + +Neergard's progress had now reached this stage; his programme was +simple--to wallow among the wealthy until satiated, then to marry into +that agreeable community and found the house of Neergard. And to that +end he had already bought a building site on Fifth Avenue, but held it +in the name of the firm as though it had been acquired for purposes +purely speculative. + + * * * * * + +About that time Boots Lansing very quietly bought a house on Manhattan +Island. It was a small, narrow, three-storied house of brick, rather +shabby on the outside, and situated on a modest block between Lexington +and Park avenues, where the newly married of the younger set were +arriving in increasing numbers, prepared to pay the penalty for all love +matches. + +It was an unexpected move to Selwyn; he had not been aware of Lansing's +contemplated desertion; and that morning, returning from his final +interview with Neergard, he was astonished to find his comrade's room +bare of furniture, and a hasty and exclamatory note on his own table: + +"Phil! I've bought a house! Come and see it! You'll find me in it! +Carpetless floors and unpapered walls! It's the happiest day of my life! + + "Boots!!!! House-owner!!!" + +And Selwyn, horribly depressed, went down after a solitary luncheon and +found Lansing sitting on a pile of dusty rugs, ecstatically inspecting +the cracked ceiling. + +"So this is the House that Boots built!" he said. + +"Phil! It's a dream!" + +"Yes--a bad one. What the devil do you mean by clearing out? What do you +want with a house, anyhow?--you infernal idiot!" + +"A house? Man, I've always wanted one! I've dreamed of a dinky little +house like this--dreamed and ached for it there in Manila--on blistering +hikes, on wibbly-wabbly gunboats--knee-deep in sprouting rice--I've +dreamed of a house in New York like this! slopping through the steaming +paddy-fields, sweating up the heights, floundering through smelly hemp, +squatting by green fires at night! always, always I've longed for a +home of my own. Now I've got it, and I'm the happiest man on Manhattan +Island!" + +"O Lord!" said Selwyn, staring, "if you feel that way! You never said +anything about it--" + +"Neither did you, Phil; but I bet you want one, too. Come now; don't +you?" + +"Yes, I do," nodded Selwyn; "but I can't afford one yet"--his face +darkened--"not for a while; but," and his features cleared, "I'm +delighted, old fellow, that _you_ have one. This certainly is a jolly +little kennel--you can fix it up in splendid shape--rugs and mahogany +and what-nots and ding-dongs--and a couple of tabby cats and a good +dog--" + +"Isn't it fascinating!" cried Boots. "Phil, all this real estate is +mine! And the idea makes me silly-headed. I've been sitting on this pile +of rugs pretending that I'm in the midst of vast and expensive +improvements and alterations; and estimating the cost of them has +frightened me half to death. I tell you I never had such fun, Phil. Come +on; we'll start at the cellar--there is some coal and wood and some +wonderful cobwebs down there--and then we'll take in the back yard; I +mean to have no end of a garden out there, and real clothes-dryers and +some wistaria and sparrows--just like real back yards. I want to hear +cats make harrowing music on my own back fence; I want to see a tidy +laundress pinning up intimate and indescribable garments on my own +clothes-lines; I want to have maddening trouble with plumbers and +roofers; I want to--" + +"Come on, then, for Heaven's sake!" said Selwyn, laughing; and the two +men, arm in arm, began a minute tour of the house. + +"Isn't it a corker! Isn't it fine!" repeated Lansing every few minutes. +"I wouldn't exchange it for any mansion on Fifth Avenue!" + +"You'd be a fool to," agreed Selwyn gravely. + +"Certainly I would. Anyway, prices are going up like rockets in this +section--not that I'd think of selling out at any price--but it's +comfortable to know it. Why, a real-estate man told me--Hello! What was +that? Something fell somewhere!" + +"A section of the bath-room ceiling, I think," said Selwyn; "we mustn't +step too heavily on the floors at first, you know." + +"Oh, I'm going to have the entire thing done over--room by room--when I +can afford it. Meanwhile _j'y suis, j'y reste_. . . . Look there, Phil! +That's to be your room." + +"Thanks, old fellow--not now." + +"Why, yes! I expected you'd have your room here, Phil--" + +"It's very good of you, Boots, but I can't do it." + +Lansing faced him: "_Won't_ you?" + +Selwyn, smiling, shook his head; and the other knew it was final. + +"Well, the room will be there--furnished the way you and I like it. When +you want it, make smoke signals or wig-wag." + +"I will; thank you, Boots." + +Lansing said unaffectedly, "How soon do you think you can afford a house +like this?" + +"I don't know; you see, I've only my income now--" + +"Plus what you make at the office--" + +"I've left Neergard." + +"What!" + +"This morning; for good." + +"The deuce!" he murmured, looking at Selwyn; but the latter volunteered +no further information, and Lansing, having given him the chance, +cheerfully switched to the other track: + +"Shall I see whether the Air Line has anything in _your_ line, Phil? No? +Well, what are you going to do?" + +"I don't exactly know what I shall do. . . . If I had capital--enough--I +think I'd start in making bulk and dense powders--all sorts; gun-cotton, +nitro-powders--" + +"You mean you'd like to go on with your own invention--Chaosite?" + +"I'd like to keep on experimenting with it if I could afford to. Perhaps +I will. But it's not yet a commercial possibility--if it ever is to be. +I wish I could control it; the ignition is simultaneous and absolutely +complete, and there is not a trace of ash, not an unburned or partly +burned particle. But it's not to be trusted, and I don't know what +happens to it after a year's storage." + +For a while they discussed the commercial possibilities of Chaosite, and +how capital might be raised for a stock company; but Selwyn was not +sanguine, and something of his mental depression returned as he sat +there by the curtainless window, his head on his closed hand, looking +out into the sunny street. + +"Anyway," said Lansing, "you've nothing to worry over." + +"No, nothing," assented Selwyn listlessly. + +After a silence Lansing added: "But you do a lot of worrying all the +same, Phil." + +Selwyn flushed up and denied it. + +"Yes, you do! I don't believe you realise how much of the time you are +out of spirits." + +"Does it impress you that way?" asked Selwyn, mortified; "because I'm +really all right." + +"Of course you are, Phil; I know it, but you don't seem to realise it. +You're morbid, I'm afraid." + +"You've been talking to my sister!" + +"What of it? Besides, I knew there was something the matter--" + +"You know what it is, too. And isn't it enough to subdue a man's spirits +occasionally?" + +"No," said Lansing--"if you mean your--mistake--two years ago. That +isn't enough to spoil life for a man. I've wanted to tell you so for a +long time." + +And, as Selwyn said nothing: "For Heaven's sake make up your mind to +enjoy your life! You are fitted to enjoy it. Get that absurd notion out +of your head that you're done for--that you've no home life in prospect, +no family life, no children--" + +Selwyn turned sharply, but the other went on: "You can swear at me if +you like, but you've no business to go through the world cuddling your +own troubles closer and closer and squinting at everybody out of +disenchanted eyes. It's selfish, for one thing; you're thinking +altogether too much about yourself." + +Selwyn, too annoyed to answer, glared at his friend. + +"Oh, I know you don't like it, Phil, but what I'm saying may do you +good. It's fine physic, to learn what others think about you; as for me, +you can't mistake my friendship--or your sister's--or Miss Erroll's, or +Mr. Gerard's. And one and all are of one opinion, that you have +everything before you, including domestic happiness, which you care for +more than anything. And there is no reason why you should not have +it--no reason why you should not feel perfectly free to marry, and have +a bunch of corking kids. It's not only your right, it's your business; +and you're selfish if you don't!" + +"Boots! I--I--" + +"Go on!" + +"I'm not going to swear; I'm only hurt, Boots--" + +"Sure you are! Medicine's working, that's all. We strive to please, we +kill to cure. Of course it hurts, man! But you know it will do you good; +you know what I say is true. You've no right to club the natural and +healthy inclinations out of yourself. The day for fanatics and dippy, +dotty flagellants is past. Fox's martyrs are out of date. The man who +grabs life in both fists and twists the essence out of it, counts. He is +living as he ought to, he is doing the square thing by his country and +his community--by every man, woman, and child in it! He's giving +everybody, including himself, a square deal. But the man who has been +upper-cut and floored, and who takes the count, and then goes and squats +in a corner to brood over the fancy licks that Fate handed him--_he_ +isn't dealing fairly and squarely by his principles or by a decent and +generous world that stands to back him for the next round. Is he, Phil?" + +"Do you mean to say, Boots, that you think a man who has made the +ghastly mess of his life that I have, ought to feel free to marry?" + +"Think it! Man, I know it. Certainly you ought to marry if you +wish--but, above all, you ought to feel free to marry. That is the +essential equipment of a man; he isn't a man if he feels that he isn't +free to marry. He may not want to do it, he may not be in love. That's +neither here nor there; the main thing is that he is as free as a man +should be to take any good opportunity--and marriage is included in the +list of good opportunities. If you become a slave to morbid notions, no +wonder you are depressed. Slaves usually are. Do you want to slink +through life? Then shake yourself, I tell you; learn to understand that +you're free to do what any decent man may do. That will take the +morbidness out of you. That will colour life for you. I don't say go +hunting for some one to love; I do say, don't avoid her when you meet +her." + +"You preach a very gay sermon, Boots," he said, folding his arms. "I've +heard something similar from my sister. As a matter of fact I think you +are partly right, too; but if the inclination for the freedom you insist +I take is wanting, then what? I don't wish to marry, Boots; I am not in +love, therefore the prospect of home and kids is premature and vague, +isn't it?" + +"As long as it's a prospect or a possibility I don't care how vague it +is," said the other cordially. "Will you admit it's a possibility? +That's all I ask." + +"If it will please you, yes, I will admit it. I have altered certain +ideas, Boots; I cannot, just now, conceive of any circumstances under +which I should feel justified in marrying, but such circumstances might +arise; I'll say that much." + +Yet until that moment he had not dreamed of admitting as much to +anybody, even to himself; but Lansing's logic, his own loneliness, his +disappointment in Gerald, had combined to make him doubt his own +methods of procedure. Too, the interview with Alixe Ruthven had not only +knocked all complacency and conceit out of him, but had made him so +self-distrustful that he was in a mood to listen respectfully to his +peers on any question. + +He was wondering now whether Boots had recognised Alixe when he had +blundered into the room that night. He had never asked the question; he +was very much inclined to, now. However, Boots's reply could be only the +negative answer that any decent man must give. + +Sitting there in the carpetless room piled high with dusty, +linen-shrouded furniture, he looked around, an involuntary smile +twitching his mouth. Somehow he had not felt so light-hearted for a +long, long while--and whether it came from his comrade's sermon, or his +own unexpected acknowledgment of its truth, or whether it was pure +amusement at Boots in the role of householder and taxpayer, he could not +decide. But he was curiously happy of a sudden; and he smiled broadly +upon Mr. Lansing: + +"What about _your_ marrying," he said--"after all this talk about mine! +What about it, Boots? Is this new house the first modest step toward the +matrimony you laud so loudly?" + +"Sure," said that gentleman airily; "that's what I'm here for." + +"Really?" + +"Well, of course, idiot. I've always been in love." + +"You mean you actually have somebody in view--?" + +"No, son. I've always been in love with--love. I'm a sentimental sentry +on the ramparts of reason. I'm properly armed for trouble, now, so if +I'm challenged I won't let my chance slip by me. Do you see? There are +two kinds of sentimental warriors in this amorous world: the man and the +nincompoop. The one brings in his prisoner, the other merely howls for +her. So I'm all ready for the only girl in the world; and if she ever +gets away from me I'll give you my house, cellar, and back yard, +including the wistaria and both cats--" + +"You have neither wistaria nor cats--yet." + +"Neither am I specifically in love--yet. So that's all right--Philip. +Come on; let's take another look at that fascinating cellar of mine!" + +But Selwyn laughingly declined, and after a little while he went away, +first to look up a book which he was having bound for Eileen, then to +call on his sister who, with Eileen, had just returned from a week at +Silverside with the children, preliminary to moving the entire +establishment there for the coming summer; for the horses and dogs had +already gone; also Kit-Ki, a pessimistic parrot, and the children's two +Norwegian ponies. + +"Silverside is too lovely for words!" exclaimed Nina as Selwyn entered +the library. "The children almost went mad. You should have seen the +dogs, too--tearing round and round the lawn in circles--poor things! +They were crazy for the fresh, new turf. And Kit-Ki! she lay in the sun +and rolled and rolled until her fur was perfectly filthy. Nobody wanted +to come away; Eileen made straight for the surf; but it was an arctic +sea, and as soon as I found out what she was doing I made her come out." + +"I should think you would," he said; "nobody can do that and thrive." + +"She seems to," said Nina; "she was simply glorious after the swim, and +I hated to put a stop to it. And you should see her drying her hair and +helping Plunket to roll the tennis-courts--that hair of hers blowing +like gold flames, and her sleeves rolled to her arm-pits!--and you +should see her down in the dirt playing marbles with Billy and +Drina--shooting away excitedly and exclaiming 'fen-dubs!' and +'knuckle-down, Billy!'--like any gamin you ever heard of. Totally +unspoiled, Phil!--in spite of all the success of her first winter!--and +do you know that she had no end of men seriously entangled? I don't mind +your knowing--but Sudbury Gray came to me, and I told him he'd better +wait, but in he blundered and--he's done for, now; and so are my plans. +He's an imbecile! And then, who on earth do you think came waddling into +the arena? Percy Draymore! Phil, it was an anxious problem for me--and +although I didn't really want Eileen to marry into that set--still--with +the Draymores' position and tremendous influence--But she merely stared +at him in cold astonishment. And there were others, too, callow for the +most part. . . . Phil?" + +"What?" he said, laughing. + +His sister regarded him smilingly, then partly turned around and perched +herself on the padded arm of a great chair. + +"Phil, _am_ I garrulous?" + +"No, dear; you are far too reticent." + +"Pooh! Suppose I do talk a great deal. I like to. Besides, I always have +something interesting to say, don't I?" + +"Always!" + +"Well, then, why do you look at me so humorously out of those nice gray +eyes? . . . Phil, you are growing handsome! Do you know it?" + +"For Heaven's sake!" he protested, red and uncomfortable, "what utter +nonsense you--" + +"Of course it bores you to be told so; and you look so delightfully +ashamed--like a reproved setter-puppy! Well, then, don't laugh at my +loquacity again!--because I'm going to say something else. . . . Come +over here, Phil; no--close to me. I wish to put my hands on your +shoulders; like that. Now look at me! Do you really love me?" + +"Sure thing, Ninette." + +"And you know I adore you; don't you?" + +"Madly, dear, but I forgive you." + +"No; I want you to be serious. Because I'm pretty serious. See, I'm not +smiling now; I don't feel like it. Because it is a very, very important +matter, Phil--this thing that has--has--almost happened. . . . It's +about Eileen. . . . And it really has happened." + +"What has she done?" he asked curiously. + +His sister's eyes were searching his very diligently, as though in quest +of something elusive; and he gazed serenely back, the most unsuspicious +of smiles touching his mouth. + +"Phil, dear, a young girl--a very young girl--is a vapid and +uninteresting proposition to a man of thirty-five; isn't she?" + +"Rather--in some ways." + +"In what way is she not?" + +"Well--to me, for example--she is acceptable as children are +acceptable--a blessed, sweet, clean relief from the women of the Fanes' +set, for example?" + +"Like Rosamund?" + +"Yes. And, Ninette, you and Austin seem to be drifting out of the old +circles--the sort that you and I were accustomed to. You don't mind my +saying it, do you?--but there were so many people in this town who had +something besides millions--amusing, well-bred, jolly people who had no +end of good times, but who didn't gamble and guzzle and stuff themselves +and their friends--who were not eternally hanging around other people's +wives. Where are they, dear?" + +"If you are indicting all of my friends, Phil--" + +"I don't mean all of your friends--only a small proportion--which, +however, connects your circle with that deadly, idle, brainless +bunch--the insolent chatterers at the opera, the gorged dowagers, the +worn-out, passionless men, the enervated matrons of the summer capital, +the chlorotic squatters on huge yachts, the speed-mad fugitives from the +furies of ennui, the neurotic victims of mental cirrhosis, the jewelled +animals whose moral code is the code of the barnyard--!" + +"Philip!" + +"Oh, I don't mean that they are any more vicious than the idle and +mentally incompetent in any walk of life. East Side, West Side, Harlem, +Hell's Kitchen, Fifth Avenue, Avenue A, and Abingdon Square--the +denizens are only locally different, not specifically--the species +remains unchanged. But everywhere, in every quarter and class and set +and circle there is always the depraved; and the logical links that +connect them are unbroken from Fifth Avenue to Chinatown, from the +half-crazed extravagances of the Orchils' Louis XIV ball to a New Year's +reception at the Haymarket where Troy Lil's diamonds outshine the phony +pearls of Hoboken Fanny, and Hatpin Molly leads the spiel with Clarence +the Pig." + +"Phil, you are too disgusting!" + +"I'm sorry--it isn't very nice of me, I suppose. But, dear, I'm dead +tired of moral squalor. I do like the brightness of things, too, but I +don't care for the phosphorescence of social decay." + +"What in the world is the matter?" she exclaimed in dismay. "You are +talking like the wildest socialist." + +He laughed. "We have become a nation of what you call +'socialists'--though there are other names for us which mean more. I am +not discontented, if that is what you mean; I am only impatient; and +there is a difference. . . . And you have just asked me whether a young +girl is interesting to me. I answer, yes, thank God!--for the cleaner, +saner, happier hours I have spent this winter among my own kind have +been spent where the younger set dominated. + +"They are good for us, Nina; they are the hope of our own +kind--well-taught, well-drilled, wholesome even when negative in mind; +and they come into our world so diffident yet so charmingly eager, so +finished yet so unspoiled, that--how can they fail to touch a man and +key him to his best? How can they fail to arouse in us the best of +sympathy, of chivalry, of anxious solicitude lest they become some day +as we are and stare at life out of the faded eyes of knowledge!" + +He laid his hands in hers, smiling a little at his own earnestness. + +"Alarmist? No! The younger set are better than those who bred them; and +if, in time, they, too, fall short, they will not fall as far as their +parents. And, in their turn, when they look around them at the younger +set whom they have taught in the light and wisdom of their own +shortcomings, they will see fresher, sweeter, lovelier young people than +we see now. And it will continue so, dear, through the jolly +generations. Life is all right, only, like art, it is very, very long +sometimes." + +"Good out of evil, Phil?" asked his sister, smiling; "innocence from the +hotbeds of profligacy? purity out of vulgarity? sanity from hideous +ostentation? Is that what you come preaching?" + +"Yes; and isn't it curious! Look at that old harridan, Mrs. Sanxon +Orchil! There are no more innocent and charming girls in Manhattan than +her daughters. She _knew_ enough to make them different; so does the +majority of that sort. Look at the Cardwell girl and the Innis girl and +the Craig girl! Look at Mrs. Delmour-Carnes's children! And, Nina--even +Molly Hatpin's wastrel waif shall never learn what her mother knows if +Destiny will help Madame Molly ever so little. And I think that Destiny +is often very kind--even to the Hatpin offspring." + +Nina sat silent on the padded arm of her chair, looking up at her +brother. + +"Mad preacher! Mad Mullah!--dear, dear fellow!" she said tenderly; "all +ills of the world canst thou discount, but not thine own." + +"Those, too," he insisted, laughing; "I had a talk with Boots--but, +anyway, I'd already arrived at my own conclusion that--that--I'm rather +overdoing this blighted business--" + +"Phil!"--in quick delight. + +"Yes," he said, reddening nicely; "between you and Boots and myself I've +decided that I'm going in for--for whatever any man is going in +for--life! Ninette, life to the full and up to the hilt for mine!--not +side-stepping anything. . . . Because I--because, Nina, it's shameful +for a man to admit to himself that he cannot make good, no matter how +thoroughly he's been hammered to the ropes. And so I'm starting out +again--not hunting trouble like him of La Mancha--but, like him in this, +that I shall not avoid it. . . . Is _that_ plain to you, little sister?" + +"Yes, oh, yes, it is!" she murmured; "I am so happy, so proud--but I +knew it was in your blood, Phil; I knew that you were merely hurt and +stunned--badly hurt, but not fatally!--you could not be; no weaklings +come from our race." + +"But still our race has always been law-abiding--observant of civil and +religious law. If I make myself free again, I take some laws into my own +hands.". + +"How do you mean?" she asked. + +"Well," he said grimly, "for example, I am forbidden, in some States, to +marry again--" + +"But you _know_ there was no reason for _that_!" + +"Yes, I do happen to know; but still I am taking the liberty of +disregarding the law if I do. Then, what clergyman, of our faith, would +marry me to anybody?" + +"That, too, you know is not just, Phil. You were innocent of +wrong-doing; you were chivalrous enough to make no defence--" + +"Wrong-doing? Nina, I was such a fool that I was innocent of sense +enough to do either good or evil. Yet I did do harm; there never was +such a thing as a harmless fool. But all I can do is to go and sin no +more; yet there is little merit in good conduct if one hides in a hole +too small to admit temptation. No; there are laws civil and laws +ecclesiastical; and sometimes I think a man is justified in repealing +the form and retaining the substance of them, and remoulding it for +purposes of self-government; as I do, now. . . . Once, oppressed by form +and theory, I told you that to remarry after divorce was a slap at +civilisation. . . . Which is true sometimes and sometimes not. Common +sense, not laws, must govern a man in that matter. But if any motive +except desire to be a decent citizen sways a self-punished man toward +self-leniency, then is he unpardonable if he breaks those laws which +truly were fashioned for such as he!" + +"Saint Simon! Saint Simon! Will you please arise, stretch your limbs, +and descend from your pillar?" said Nina; "because I am going to say +something that is very, very serious; and very near my heart." + +"I remember," he said; "it's about Eileen, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is about Eileen." + +He waited; and again his sister's eyes began restlessly searching his +for something that she seemed unable to find. + +"You make it a little difficult, Phil; I don't believe I had better +speak of it." + +"Why not?" + +"Why, just because you ask me 'why not?' for example." + +"Is it anything that worries you about Eileen?" + +"N-no; not exactly. It is--it may be a phase; and yet I know that if it +is anything at all it is not a passing phase. She is different from the +majority, you see--very intelligent, very direct. She never +forgets--for example. Her loyalty is quite remarkable, Phil. She is very +intense in her--her beliefs--the more so because she is unusually free +from impulse--even quite ignorant of the deeper emotions; or so I +believed until--until--" + +"Is she in _love_?" he asked. + +"A little, Phil." + +"Does she admit it?" he demanded, unpleasantly astonished. + +"She admits it in a dozen innocent ways to me who can understand her; +but to herself she has not admitted it, I think--could not admit it yet; +because--because--" + +"Who is it?" asked Selwyn; and there was in his voice the slightest +undertone of a growl. + +"Dear, shall I tell you?" + +"Why not?" + +"Because--because--Phil, I think that our pretty Eileen is a little in +love with--you." + +He straightened out to his full height, scarlet to the temples; she +dropped her linked fingers in her lap, gazing at him almost sadly. + +"Dear, all the things you are preparing to shout at me are quite +useless; I _know_; I don't imagine, I don't forestall, I don't predict. +I am not discounting any hopes of mine, because, Phil, I had not +thought--had not planned such a thing--between you and Eileen--I don't +know why. But I had not; there was Suddy Gray--a nice boy, perfectly +qualified; and there were alternates more worldly, perhaps. But I did +not think of you; and that is what now amazes and humiliates me; because +it was the obvious that I overlooked--the most perfectly natural--" + +"Nina! you are madder than a March heiress!" + +"Air your theories, Phil, then come back to realities. The conditions +remain; Eileen is certainly a little in love with you; and a little with +her means something. And you, evidently, have never harboured any +serious intentions toward the child; I can see that, because you are the +most transparent man I ever knew. Now, the question is, what is to be +done?" + +"Done? Good heavens! Nothing, of course! There's nothing to do anything +about! Nina, you are the most credulous little matchmaker that ever--" + +"Oh, Phil, _must_ I listen to all those fulminations before you come +down to the plain fact? And it's plain to me as the nose on your +countenance; and I don't know what to do about it! I certainly was a +perfect fool to confide in you, for you are exhibiting the coolness and +sagacity of a stampeded chicken." + +He laughed in spite of himself; then, realising a little what her +confidence had meant, he turned a richer red and slowly lifted his +fingers to his moustache, while his perplexed gray eyes began to narrow +as though sun-dazzled. + +"I am, of course, obliged to believe that you are mistaken," he said; "a +man cannot choose but believe in that manner. . . . There is no very +young girl--nobody, old or young, whom I like as thoroughly as I do +Eileen Erroll. She knows it; so do you, Nina. It is open and +above-board. . . . I should be very unhappy if anything marred or +distorted our friendship. . . . I am quite confident that nothing will." + +"In that frame of mind," said his sister, smiling, "you are the +healthiest companion in the world for her, for you will either cure her, +or she you; and it is all right either way." + +"Certainly it will be all right," he said confidently. + +For a few moments he paced the room, reflective, quickening his pace all +the while; and his sister watched him, silent in her indecision. + +"I'm going up to see the kids," he said abruptly. + +The children, one and all, were in the Park; but Eileen was sewing in +the nursery, and his sister did not call him back as he swung out of the +room and up the stairs. But when he had disappeared, Nina dropped into +her chair, aware that she had played her best card prematurely; forced +by Rosamund, who had just told her that rumour continued to be very busy +coupling her brother's name with the name of the woman who once had been +his wife. + +Nina was now thoroughly convinced of Alixe's unusual capacity for making +mischief. + +She had known Alixe always--and she had seen her develop from a +talented, restless, erratic, emotional girl, easily moved to generosity, +into an impulsive woman, reckless to the point of ruthlessness when +ennui and unhappiness stampeded her; a woman not deliberately selfish, +not wittingly immoral, for she lacked the passion which her emotion was +sometimes mistaken for; and she was kind by instinct. + +Sufficiently intelligent to suffer from the lack of it in others, +cultured to the point of recognising culture, her dangerous unsoundness +lay in her utter lack of mental stamina when conditions became +unpleasant beyond her will, not her ability to endure them. + +The consequences of her own errors she refused to be burdened with; to +escape somehow, was her paramount impulse, and she always tried to--had +always attempted it even in school-days--and farther back when Nina +first remembered her as a thin, eager, restless little girl scampering +from one scrape into another at full speed. Even in those days there +were moments when Nina believed her to be actually irrational, but there +was every reason not to say so to the heedless scatterbrain whose +father, in the prime of life, sat all day in his room, his faded eyes +fixed wistfully on the childish toys which his attendant brought to him +from his daughter's nursery. + +All this Nina was remembering; and again she wondered bitterly at +Alixe's treatment of her brother, and what explanation there could ever +be for it--except one. + +Lately, too, Alixe had scarcely been at pains to conceal her contempt +for her husband, if what Rosamund related was true. It was only one more +headlong scrape, this second marriage, and Nina knew Alixe well enough +to expect the usual stampede toward that gay phantom which was always +beckoning onward to promised happiness--that goal of heart's desire +already lying so far behind her--and farther still for every step her +little flying feet were taking in the oldest, the vainest, the most +hopeless chase in the world--the headlong hunt for happiness. + +And if that blind hunt should lead once more toward Selwyn? Suppose, +freed from Ruthven, she turned in her tracks and threw herself and her +youthful unhappiness straight at the man who had not yet destroyed the +picture that Nina found when she visited her brother's rooms with the +desire to be good to him with rocking-chairs! + +Not that she really believed or feared that Philip would consider such +an impossible reconciliation; pride, and a sense of the absurd, must +always check any such weird caprice of her brother's conscience; and +yet--and yet other amazing and mismated couples had done it--had been +reunited. + +And Nina was mightily troubled, for Alixe's capacity for mischief was +boundless; and that she, in some manner, had already succeeded in +stirring up Philip, was a rumour that persisted and would not be +annihilated. + +To inform a man frankly that a young girl is a little in love with him +is one of the oldest, simplest, and easiest methods of interesting that +man--unless he happen to be in love with somebody else. And Nina had +taken her chances that the picture of Alixe was already too unimportant +for the ceremony of incineration. Besides, what she had ventured to say +to him was her belief; the child appeared to be utterly absorbed in her +increasing intimacy with Selwyn. She talked of little else; her theme +was Selwyn--his influence on Gerald, and her delight in his +companionship. They had, at his suggestion, taken up together the study +of Cretan antiquities--a sort of tender pilgrimage for her, because, +with the aid of her father's and mother's letters, note-books, and +papers, she and Selwyn were following on the map the journeys and +discoveries of her father. + +But this was not all; Nina's watchful eyes opened wider and wider as she +witnessed in Eileen the naissance of an unconscious and delicate +coquetry, quite unabashed, yet the more significant for that; and Nina, +intent on the new phenomena, began to divine more about Eileen in a +single second, than the girl could have suspected of herself in a month +of introspection and of prayer. + +Love was not there; Nina understood that; but its germ was--still +dormant, but bedded deliciously in congenial soil--the living germ in +all its latent promise, ready to swell with the first sudden heart-beat, +quicken with the first quickening of the pulse, unfold into perfect +symmetry if ever the warm, even current in the veins grew swift and hot +under the first scorching whisper of Truth. + + * * * * * + +Eileen, sewing by the nursery window, looked up; her little Alsatian +maid, cross-legged on the floor at her feet, sewing away diligently, +also looked up, then scrambled to her feet as Selwyn halted on the +threshold of the room. + +"Why, how odd you look!" said Eileen, laughing: "come in, please; +Susanne and I are only mending some of my summer things. Were you in +search of the children?--don't say so if you were, because I'm quite +happy in believing that you knew I was here. Did you?" + +"Where are the children?" he asked. + +"In the Park, my very rude friend. You will find them on the Mall if you +start at once." + +He hesitated, but finally seated himself, omitting the little formal +hand-shake with which they always met, even after an hour's separation. +Of course she noticed this, and, bending low above her sewing, wondered +why. + +It seemed to him, for a moment, as though he were looking at a woman he +had heard about and had just met for the first time. His observation of +her now was leisurely, calm, and thorough--not so calm, however, when, +impatient of his reticence, bending there over her work, she raised her +dark-blue eyes to his, her head remaining lowered. The sweet, silent +inspection lasted but a moment, then she resumed her stitches, aware +that something in him had changed since she last had seen him; but she +merely smiled quietly to herself, confident of his unaltered devotion in +spite of the strangely hard and unresponsive gaze that had uneasily +evaded hers. + +As her white fingers flew with the glimmering needle she reflected on +conditions as she had left them a week ago. A week ago, between him and +her the most perfect of understandings existed; and the consciousness of +it she had carried with her every moment in the country--amid the icy +tumble of the surf, on long vigorous walks over the greening hills where +wild moorland winds whipped like a million fairy switches till the young +blood fairly sang, pouring through her veins. + +Since that--some time within the week, _something_ evidently had +happened to him, here in the city while she had been away. What? + +As she bent above the fine linen garment on her knee, needle flying, a +sudden memory stirred coldly--the recollection of her ride with +Rosamund; and instinctively her clear eyes flew open and she raised her +head, turning directly toward him a disturbed gaze he did not this time +evade. + +In silence their regard lingered; then, satisfied, she smiled again, +saying: "Have I been away so long that we must begin all over, Captain +Selwyn?" + +"Begin what, Eileen?" + +"To remember that the silence of selfish preoccupation is a privilege I +have not accorded you?" + +"I didn't mean to be preoccupied--" + +"Oh, worse and worse!" She shook her head and began to thread the +needle. "I see that my week's absence has not been very good +for you. I knew it the moment you came in with all that guilty +absent-minded effrontery which I have forbidden. Now, I suppose I +shall have to recommence your subjection. Ring for tea, please. And, +Susanne"--speaking in French and gathering up a fluffy heap of mended +summer waists--"these might as well be sent to the laundress--thank you, +little one; your sewing is always beautiful." + +The small maid, blushing with pleasure, left the room, both arms full of +feminine apparel; Selwyn rang for tea, then strolled back to the window, +where he stood with both hands thrust into his coat-pockets, staring out +at the sunset. + +A primrose light bathed the city. Below, through the new foliage of the +Park, the little lake reflected it in tints of deeper gold and amber +where children clustered together, sailing toy ships. But there was no +wind; the tiny sails and flags hung motionless, and out and in, among +the craft becalmed, steered a family of wild ducks, the downy yellow +fledglings darting hither and thither in chase of gnats, the mother bird +following in leisurely solicitude. + +And, as he stood there, absently intent on sky and roof and foliage, her +soft bantering voice aroused him; and turning he found her beside him, +her humorous eyes fixed on his face. + +"Suppose," she said, "that we go back to first principles and resume +life properly by shaking hands. Shall we?" + +He coloured up as he took her hand in his; then they both laughed at the +very vigorous shake. + +"What a horribly unfriendly creature you _can_ be," she said. "Never a +greeting, never even a formal expression of pleasure at my return--" + +"You have not _returned_!" he said, smiling; "you have been with me +every moment, Eileen." + +"What a pretty tribute!" she exclaimed; "I am beginning to recognise +traces of my training after all. And it is high time, Captain Selwyn, +because I was half convinced that you had escaped to the woods again. +What, if you please, have you been doing in town since I paroled you? +Nothing? Oh, it's very likely. You're probably too ashamed to tell me. +Now note the difference between us; _I_ have been madly tearing over +turf and dune, up hills, down hillocks, along headlands, shores, and +shingle; and I had the happiness of being half-frozen in the surf before +Nina learned of it and stopped me. . . . Come; sit over here; because +I'm quite crazy to tell you everything as usual--about how I played +marbles with the children--yes, indeed!--down on my knees and shooting +hard! Oh, it is divine, that sea-girdled, wind-drenched waste of moor +and thicket!--the strange little stunted forests in the hollows of the +miniature hills--do you remember? The trees, you know, grow only to the +wind-level, then spread out like those grotesque trees in fairy-haunted +forests--so old, so fantastic are these curious patches of woods that I +am for ever watching to see something magic moving far in the twilight +of the trees! . . . And one night I went out on the moors; oh, heavenly! +celestial!--under the stretch of stars! Elf-land in silence, save for +the bewitched wind. And the fairy forests drew me toward their edges, +down, down into the hollow, with delicious shivers. + +"Once I trembled indeed, for the starlight on the swamp was suddenly +splintered into millions of flashes; and my heart leaped in pure fright! +. . . It was only a wild duck whirring headlong into the woodland +waters--but oh, if you had been there to see the weird beauty of its +coming--and the star-splashed blackness! You _must_ see that with me, +some time. . . . When are you coming to Silverside? We go back very +soon, now. . . . And I don't feel at all like permitting you to run wild +in town when I'm away and playing hopscotch on the lawn with Drina!" + +She lay back in her chair, laughing, her hands linked together behind +her head. + +"Really, Captain Selwyn, I confess I missed you. It's much better fun +when two can see all those things that I saw--the wild roses just a +tangle of slender green-mossed stems, the new grass so intensely green, +with a touch of metallic iridescence; the cat's-paws chasing each other +across the purple inland ponds--and that cheeky red fox that came +trotting out of the briers near Wonder Head, and, when he saw me, coolly +attempted to stare me out of countenance! Oh, it's all very well to tell +you about it, but there is a little something lacking in unshared +pleasures. . . . Yes, a great deal lacking. . . . And here is our +tea-tray at last." + +Nina came up to join them. Her brother winced as she smiled triumphantly +at him, and the colour continued vivid in his face while she remained in +the room. Then the children charged upstairs, fresh from the Park, +clamouring for food; and they fell upon Selwyn's neck, and disarranged +his scarf-pin, and begged for buttered toast and crumpets, and got what +they demanded before Nina's authority could prevent. + +"I saw a rabbit at Silverside!" said Billy, "but do you know, Uncle +Philip, that hunting pack of ours is no good! Not one dog paid any +attention to the rabbit though Drina and I did our best--didn't we, +Drina?" + +"You should have seen them," murmured Eileen, leaning close to whisper +to Selwyn; "the children had fits when the rabbit came hopping across +the road out of the Hither Woods. But the dogs all ran madly the other +way, and I thought Billy would die of mortification." + +Nina stood up, waving a crumpet which she had just rescued from +Winthrop. "Hark!" she said, "there's the nursery curfew!--and not one +wretched infant bathed! Billy! March bathward, my son! Drina, +sweetheart, take command. Prune souffle for the obedient, dry bread for +rebels! Come, children!--don't let mother speak to you twice." + +"Let's go down to the library," said Eileen to Selwyn--"you are dining +with us, of course. . . . What? Yes, indeed, you are. The idea of your +attempting to escape to some dreadful club and talk man-talk all the +evening when I have not begun to tell you what I did at Silverside!" + +They left the nursery together and descended the stairs to the library. +Austin had just come in, and he looked up from his solitary cup of tea +as they entered: + +"Hello, youngsters! What conspiracy are you up to now? I suppose you +sniffed the tea and have come to deprive me. By the way, Phil, I hear +that you've sprung the trap on those Siowitha people." + +"Neergard has, I believe." + +"Well, isn't it all one?" + +"No, it is not!" retorted Selwyn so bluntly that Eileen turned from the +window at a sound in his voice which she had never before heard. + +"Oh!" Austin stared over his suspended teacup, then drained it. "Trouble +with our friend Julius?" he inquired. + +"No trouble. I merely severed my connection with him." + +"Ah! When?" + +"This morning." + +"In that case," said Austin, laughing, "I've a job for you--" + +"No, old fellow; and thank you with all my heart. I've half made up my +mind to live on my income for a while and take up that Chaosite matter +again--" + +"And blow yourself to smithereens! Why spatter Nature thus?" + +"No fear," said Selwyn, laughing. "And, if it promises anything, I may +come to you for advice on how to start it commercially." + +"If it doesn't start you heavenward you shall have my advice from a safe +distance. I'll telegraph it," said Austin. "But, if it's not personal, +why on earth have you shaken Neergard?" + +And Selwyn answered simply: "I don't like him. That is the reason, +Austin." + +The children from the head of the stairs were now shouting demands for +their father; and Austin rose, pretending to grumble: + +"Those confounded kids! A man is never permitted a moment to himself. Is +Nina up there, Eileen! Oh, all right. Excuses et cetera; I'll be back +pretty soon. You'll stay to dine, Phil?" + +"I don't think so--" + +"Yes, he will stay," said Eileen calmly. + +And, when Austin had gone, she walked swiftly over to where Selwyn was +standing, and looked him directly in the eyes. + +"Is all well with Gerald?" + +"Y-yes, I suppose so." + +"Is he still with Neergard & Co.?" + +"Yes, Eileen." + +"And _you_ don't like Mr. Neergard?" + +"N-no." + +"Then Gerald must not remain." + +He said very quietly: "Eileen, Gerald no longer takes me into his +confidence. I am afraid--I know, in fact--that I have little influence +with him now. I am sorry; it hurts; but your brother is his own master, +and he is at liberty to choose his own friends and his own business +policy. I cannot influence him; I have learned that thoroughly. Better +that I retain what real friendship he has left for me than destroy it by +any attempt, however gentle, to interfere in his affairs." + +She stood before him, straight, slender, her face grave and troubled. + +"I cannot understand," she said, "how he could refuse to listen to a man +like you." + +"A man like me, Eileen? Well, if I were worth listening to, no doubt +he'd listen. But the fact remains that I have not been able to hold his +interest--" + +"Don't give him up," she said, still looking straight into his eyes. "If +you care for me, don't give him up." + +"Care for you, Eileen! You know I do." + +"Yes, I know it. So you will not give up Gerald, will you? He is--is +only a boy--you know that; you know he has been--perhaps--indiscreet. +But Gerald is only a boy. Stand by him, Captain Selwyn; because Austin +does not know how to manage him--really he doesn't. . . . There has been +another unpleasant scene between them; Gerald told me." + +"Did he tell you why, Eileen?" + +"Yes. He told me that he had played cards for money, and he was in debt. +I know that sounds--almost disgraceful; but is not his need of help all +the greater?" + +Selwyn's eyes suddenly narrowed: "Did _you_ help him out, this time?" + +"I--I--how do you mean, Captain Selwyn?" But the splendid colour in her +face confirmed his certainty that she had used her own resources to help +her brother pay the gambling debt; and he turned away his eyes, angry +and silent. + +"Yes," she said under her breath, "I did aid him. What of it? Could I +refuse?" + +"I know. Don't aid him again--_that_ way." + +She stared: "You mean--" + +"Send him to me, child. I understand such matters; I--that is--" and in +sudden exasperation inexplicable, for the moment, to them both: "Don't +touch such matters again! They soil, I tell you. I will not have Gerald +go to you about such things!" + +"My own brother! What do you mean?" + +"I mean that, brother or not, he shall not bring such matters near you!" + +"Am I to count for nothing, then, when Gerald is in trouble?" she +demanded, flushing up. + +"Count! Count!" he repeated impatiently; "of course you count! Good +heavens! it's women like you who count--and no others--not one single +other sort is of the slightest consequence in the world or to it. +Count? Child, you control us all; everything of human goodness, of human +hope hinges and hangs on you--is made possible, inevitable, because of +you! And you ask me whether you count! You, who control us all, and +always will--as long as you are you!" + +She had turned a little pale under his vehemence, watching him out of +wide and beautiful eyes. + +What she understood--how much of his incoherence she was able to +translate, is a question; but in his eyes and voice there was something +simpler to divine; and she stood very still while his roused emotions +swept her till her heart leaped up and every vein in her ran fiery +pride. + +"I am--overwhelmed . . . I did not consider that I counted--so +vitally--in the scheme of things. But I must try to--if you believe all +this of me--only you must teach me how to count for something in the +world. Will you?" + +"Teach you, Eileen. What winning mockery! _I_ teach _you_? Well, then--I +teach you this--that a man's blunder is best healed by a man's sympathy; +. . . I will stand by Gerald as long as he will let me do so--not alone +for your sake, nor only for his, but for my own. I promise you that. Are +you contented?" + +"Yes." + +She slowly raised one hand, laying it fearlessly in both of his. + +"He is all I have left," she said. "You know that." + +"I know, child." + +"Then--thank you, Captain Selwyn." + +"No; I thank you for giving me this charge. It means that a man must +raise his own standard of living before he can accept such +responsibility. . . . You endow me with all that a man ought to be; and +my task is doubled; for it is not only Gerald but I myself who require +surveillance." + +He looked up, smilingly serious: "Such women as you alone can fit your +brother and me for an endless guard duty over the white standard you +have planted on the outer walls of the world." + +"You say things to me--sometimes--" she faltered, "that almost hurt with +the pleasure they give." + +"Did that give you pleasure?" + +"Y-yes; the surprise of it was almost too--too keen. I wish you would +not--but I am glad you did. . . . You see"--dropping into a great velvet +chair--"having been of no serious consequence to anybody for so many +years--to be told, suddenly, that I--that I count so vitally with men--a +man like you--" + +She sank back, drew one small hand across her eyes, and rested a moment; +then leaning forward, she set her elbow on one knee and bracketed her +chin between forefinger and thumb. + +"_You_ don't know," she said, smiling faintly, "but, oh, the exalted +dreams young girls indulge in! And one and all centre around some +power-inspired attitude of our own when a great crisis comes. And most +of all we dream of counting heavily; and more than all we clothe +ourselves in the celestial authority which dares to forgive. . . . Is it +not pathetically amusing--the mental process of a young girl?--and the +paramount theme of her dream is power!--such power as will permit the +renunciation of vengeance; such power as will justify the happiness of +forgiving? . . . And every dream of hers is a dream of power; and, +often, the happiness of forbearing to wield it. All dreams lead to it, +all mean it; for instance, half-awake, then faintly conscious in +slumber, I lie dreaming of power--always power; the triumph of +attainment, of desire for wisdom and knowledge satisfied. I dream of +friendships--wonderful intimacies exquisitely satisfying; I dream of +troubles, and my moral power to sweep them out of existence; I dream of +self-sacrifice, and of the spiritual power to endure it; I dream--I +dream--sometimes--of more material power--of splendours and imposing +estates, of a paradise all my own. And when I have been selfishly happy +long enough, I dream of a vast material power fitting me to wipe poverty +from the world; I plan it out in splendid generalities, sometimes in +minute detail. . . . Of men, we naturally dream; but vaguely, in a +curious and confused way. . . . Once, when I was fourteen, I saw a +volunteer regiment passing; and it halted for a while in front of our +house; and a brilliant being on a black horse turned lazily in his +saddle and glanced up at our window. . . . Captain Selwyn, it is quite +useless for you to imagine what fairy scenes, what wondrous perils, what +happy adventures that gilt-corded adjutant and I went through in my +dreams. Marry him? Indeed I did, scores of times. Rescue him? Regularly. +He was wounded, he was attacked by fevers unnumbered, he fled in peril +of his life, he vegetated in countless prisons, he was misunderstood, he +was a martyr to suspicion, he was falsely accused, falsely condemned. +And then, just before the worst occurred, _I_ appear!--the inevitable +I." + +She dropped back into the chair, laughing. Her colour was high, her eyes +brilliant; she laid her arms along the velvet arms of the chair and +looked at him. + +"I've not had you to talk to for a whole week," she said; "and you'll +let me; won't you? I can't help it, anyway, because as soon as I see +you--crack! a million thoughts wake up in me and clipper-clapper goes my +tongue. . . . You are very good for me. You are so thoroughly +satisfactory--except when your eyes narrow in that dreadful far-away +gaze--which I've forbidden, you understand. . . . _What_ have you done +to your moustache?" + +"Clipped it." + +"Oh, I don't like it too short. Can you get hold of it to pull it? It's +the only thing that helps you in perplexity to solve problems. You'd be +utterly helpless, mentally, without your moustache. . . . When are we to +take up our Etruscan symbols again?--or was it Evans's monograph we were +laboriously dissecting? Certainly it was; don't you remember the Hittite +hieroglyph of Jerabis?--and how you and I fought over those wretched +floral symbols? You don't? And it was only a week ago? . . . And listen! +Down at Silverside I've been reading the most delicious thing--the Mimes +of Herodas!--oh, so charmingly quaint, so perfectly human, that it seems +impossible that they were written two thousand years ago. There's a +maid, in one scene, Threissa, who is precisely like anybody's maid--and +an old lady, Gyllis--perfectly human, and not Greek, but Yankee of +to-day! Shall we reread it together?--when you come down to stay with us +at Silverside?" + +"Indeed we shall," he said, smiling; "which also reminds me--" + +He drew from his breast-pocket a thin, flat box, turned it round and +round, glanced at her, balancing it teasingly in the palm of his hand. + +"Is it for me? Really? Oh, please don't be provoking! Is it _really_ for +me? Then give it to me this instant!" + +[Illustration: "Turning, looked straight at Selwyn."] + +He dropped the box into the pink hollow of her supplicating palms. For a +moment she was very busy with the tissue-paper; then: + +"Oh! it is perfectly sweet of you!" turning the small book bound in +heavy Etruscan gold; "whatever can it be?" and, rising, she opened it, +stepping to the window so that she could see. + +Within, the pages were closely covered with the minute, careful +handwriting of her father; it was the first note-book he ever kept; and +Selwyn had had it bound for her in gold. + +For an instant she gazed, breathless, lips parted; then slowly she +placed the yellowed pages against her lips and, turning, looked straight +at Selwyn, the splendour of her young eyes starred with tears. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ERRANDS AND LETTERS + + +Alixe Ruthven had not yet dared tell Selwyn that her visit to his rooms +was known to her husband. Sooner or later she meant to tell him; it was +only fair to him that he should be prepared for anything that might +happen; but as yet, though her first instinct, born of sheer fright, +urged her to seek instant council with Selwyn, fear of him was greater +than the alarm caused her by her husband's knowledge. + +She was now afraid of her husband's malice, afraid of Selwyn's opinion, +afraid of herself most of all, for she understood herself well enough to +realise that, if conditions became intolerable, the first and easiest +course out of it would be the course she'd take--wherever it led, +whatever it cost, or whoever was involved. + +In addition to her dread and excitement, she was deeply chagrined and +unhappy; and, although Jack Ruthven did not again refer to the +matter--indeed appeared to have forgotten it--her alarm and humiliation +remained complete, for Gerald now came and played and went as he chose; +and in her disconcerted cowardice she dared not do more than plead with +Gerald in secret, until she began to find the emotion consequent upon +such intimacy unwise for them both. + +Neergard, too, was becoming a familiar figure in her drawing-room; and, +though at first she detested him, his patience and unfailing good +spirits, and his unconcealed admiration for her softened her manner +toward him to the point of toleration. + +And Neergard, from his equivocal footing in the house of Ruthven, +obtained another no less precarious in the house of Fane--all in the +beginning on a purely gaming basis. However, Gerald had already proposed +him for the Stuyvesant and Proscenium clubs; and, furthermore, a stormy +discussion was now in progress among the members of the famous Siowitha +over an amazing proposition from their treasurer, Jack Ruthven. + +This proposal was nothing less than to admit Neergard to membership in +that wealthy and exclusive country club, as a choice of the lesser evil; +for it appeared, according to Ruthven, that Neergard, if admitted, was +willing to restore to the club, free of rent, the thousands of acres +vitally necessary to the club's existence as a game preserve, merely +retaining the title to these lands for himself. + +Draymore was incensed at the proposal, Harmon, Orchil, and Fane were +disgustedly non-committal, but Phoenix Mottly was perhaps the angriest +man on Long Island. + +"In the name of decency, Jack," he said, "what are you dreaming of? Is +it not enough that this man, Neergard, holds us up once? Do I understand +that he has the impudence to do it again with your connivance? Are you +going to let him sandbag us into electing him? Is that the sort of +hold-up you stand for? Well, then, I tell you I'll never vote for him. +I'd rather see these lakes and streams of ours dry up; I'd rather see +the last pheasant snared and the last covey leave for the other end of +the island, than buy off that Dutchman with a certificate of membership +in the Siowitha!" + +"In that case," retorted Ruthven, "we'd better wind up our affairs and +make arrangements for an auctioneer." + +"All right; wind up and be damned!" said Mottly; "there'll be at least +sufficient self-respect left in the treasury to go round." + +Which was all very fine, and Mottly meant it at the time; but, outside +of the asset of self-respect, there was too much money invested in the +lands, plant, and buildings, in the streams, lakes, hatcheries, and +forests of the Siowitha. The enormously wealthy seldom stand long upon +dignity if that dignity is going to be very expensive. Only the poor can +afford disastrous self-respect. + +So the chances were that Neergard would become a member--which was why +he had acquired the tract--and the price he would have to pay was not +only in taxes upon the acreage, but, secretly, a solid sum in addition +to little Mr. Ruthven whom he was binding to him by every tie he could +pay for. + +Neergard did not regret the expense. He had long since discounted the +cost; and he also continued to lose money at the card-table to those who +could do him the most good. + +Away somewhere in the back of his round, squat, busy head he had an +inkling that some day he would even matters with some people. Meanwhile +he was patient, good-humoured, amusing when given a chance, and, as the +few people he knew found out, inventive and resourceful in suggesting +new methods of time-killing to any wealthy and fashionable victim of a +vacant mind. + +And as this faculty has always been the real key to the inner Temple of +the Ten Thousand Disenchantments, the entrance of Mr. Neergard appeared +to be only a matter of time and opportunity, and his ultimate welcome at +the naked altar a conclusion foregone. + +In the interim, however, he suffered Gerald and little Ruthven to pilot +him; he remained cheerfully oblivious to the snubs and indifference +accorded him by Mrs. Ruthven, Mrs. Fane, and others of their entourage +whom he encountered over the card-tables or at card-suppers. And all the +while he was attending to his business with an energy and activity that +ought to have shamed Gerald, and did, at times, particularly when he +arrived at the office utterly unfit for the work before him. + +But Neergard continued astonishingly tolerant and kind, lending him +money, advancing him what he required, taking up or renewing notes for +him, until the boy, heavily in his debt, plunged more heavily still in +sheer desperation, only to flounder the deeper at every struggle to +extricate himself. + +Alixe Ruthven suspected something of this, but it was useless as well as +perilous in other ways for her to argue with Gerald, for the boy had +come to a point where even his devotion to her could not stop him. He +_must_ go on. He did not say so to Alixe; he merely laughed, assuring +her that he was all right; that he knew how much he could afford to +lose, and that he would stop when his limit was in sight. Alas, he had +passed his limit long since; and already it was so far behind him that +he dared not look back--dared no longer even look forward. + +Meanwhile the Ruthvens were living almost lavishly, and keeping four +more horses; but Eileen Erroll's bank balance had now dwindled to three +figures; and Gerald had not only acted offensively toward Selwyn, but +had quarrelled so violently with Austin that the latter, thoroughly +incensed and disgusted, threatened to forbid him the house. + +"The little fool!" he said to Selwyn, "came here last night, stinking of +wine, and attempted to lay down the law to me!--tried to dragoon me into +a compromise with him over the investments I have made for him. By God, +Phil, he shall not control one cent until the trust conditions are +fulfilled, though it was left to my discretion, too. And I told him so +flatly; I told him he wasn't fit to be trusted with the coupons of a +repudiated South American bond--" + +"Hold on, Austin. That isn't the way to tackle a boy like that!" + +"Isn't it? Well, why not? Do you expect me to dicker with him?" + +"No; but, Austin, you've always been a little brusque with him. Don't +you think--" + +"No, I don't. It's discipline he needs, and he'll get it good and plenty +every time he comes here." + +"I--I'm afraid he may cease coming here. That's the worst of it. For his +sister's sake I think we ought to try to put up with--" + +"Put up! Put up! I've been doing nothing else since he came of age. He's +turned out a fool of a puppy, I tell you; he's idle, lazy, dissipated, +impudent, conceited, insufferable--" + +"But not vicious, Austin, and not untruthful. Where his affections are +centred he is always generous; where they should be centred he is merely +thoughtless, not deliberately selfish--" + +"See here, Phil, how much good has your molly-coddling done him? You +warned him to be cautious in his intimacy with Neergard, and he was +actually insulting to you--" + +"I know; but I understood. He probably had some vague idea of loyalty to +a man whom he had known longer than he knew me. That was all; that was +what I feared, too. But it had to be done--I was determined to venture +it; and it seems I accomplished nothing. But don't think that Gerald's +attitude toward me makes any difference, Austin. It doesn't; I'm just as +devoted to the boy, just as sorry for him, just as ready to step in when +the chance comes, as it surely will, Austin. He's only running a bit +wilder than the usual colt; it takes longer to catch and bridle him--" + +"Somebody'll rope him pretty roughly before you run him down," said +Gerard. + +"I hope not. Of course it's a chance he takes, and we can't help it; but +I'm trying to believe he'll tire out in time and come back to us for his +salt. And, Austin, we've simply got to believe in him, you know--on +Eileen's account." + +Austin grew angrier and redder: + +"Eileen's account? Do you mean her bank account? It's easy enough to +believe in him if you inspect his sister's bank account. Believe in him? +Oh, certainly I do; I believe he's pup enough to come sneaking to his +sister to pay for all the damfooleries he's engaged in. . . . And I've +positively forbidden her to draw another check to his order--" + +"It's that little bangled whelp, Ruthven," said Selwyn between his +teeth. "I warned Gerald most solemnly of that man, but--" He shrugged +his shoulders and glanced about him at the linen-covered furniture and +bare floors. After a moment he looked up: "The game there is of course +notorious. I--if matters did not stand as they do"--he flushed +painfully--"I'd go straight to Ruthven and find out whether or not this +business could be stopped." + +"Stopped? No, it can't be. How are you going to stop a man from playing +cards in his own house? They all do it--that sort. Fane's rather +notorious himself; they call his house the house of ill-Fane, you know. +If you or I or any of our family were on any kind of terms with the +Ruthvens, they might exclude Gerald to oblige us. We are not, however; +and, anyway, if Gerald means to make a gambler and a souse of himself at +twenty-one, he'll do it. But it's pretty rough on us." + +"It's rougher on him, Austin; and it's roughest on his sister. Well"--he +held out his hand--"good-bye. No, thanks, I won't stop to see Nina and +Eileen; I'm going to try to think up some way out of this. And--if +Gerald comes to you again--try another tack--just try it. You know, old +fellow, that, between ourselves, you and I are sometimes short of temper +and long of admonition. Let's try reversing the combination with +Gerald." + +But Austin only growled from the depths of his linen-shrouded arm-chair, +and Selwyn turned away, wondering what in the world he could do in a +matter already far beyond the jurisdiction of either Austin or himself. + +If Alixe had done her best to keep Gerald away, she appeared to be quite +powerless in the matter; and it was therefore useless to go to her. +Besides, he had every inclination to avoid her. He had learned his +lesson. + +To whom then could he go? Through whom could he reach Gerald? Through +Nina? Useless. And Gerald had already defied Austin. Through Neergard, +then? But he was on no terms with Neergard; how could he go to him? +Through Rosamund Fane? At the thought he made a wry face. Any advances +from him she would wilfully misinterpret. And Ruthven? How on earth +could he bring himself to approach him? + +And the problem therefore remained as it was; the only chance of any +solution apparently depending upon these friends of Gerald's, not one of +whom was a friend of Selwyn; indeed some among them were indifferent to +the verge of open enmity. + +And yet he had promised Eileen to do what he could. What merit lay in +performing an easy obligation? What courage was required to keep a +promise easily kept? If he cared anything for her--if he really cared +for Gerald, he owed them more than effortless fulfilment. And here there +could be no fulfilment without effort, without the discarding from self +of the last rags of pride. And even then, what hope was there--after the +sacrifice of self and the disregard of almost certain humiliation? + +It was horribly hard for him; there seemed to be no chance in sight. But +forlorn hope was slowly rousing the soldier in him--the grim, dogged, +desperate necessity of doing his duty to the full and of leaving +consequences to that Destiny, which some call by a name more reverent. + +So first of all, when at length he had decided, he nerved himself to +strike straight at the centre; and within the hour he found Gerald at +the Stuyvesant Club. + +The boy descended to the visitors' rooms, Selwyn's card in his hand and +distrust written on every feature. And at Selwyn's first frank and +friendly words he reddened to the temples and checked him. + +"I won't listen," he said. "They--Austin and--and everybody have been +putting you up to this until I'm tired of it. Do they think I'm a baby? +Do they suppose I don't know enough to take care of myself? Are they +trying to make me ridiculous? I tell you they'd better let me alone. My +friends are my friends, and I won't listen to any criticism of them, and +that settles it." + +"Gerald--" + +"Oh, I know perfectly well that you dislike Neergard. I don't, and +that's the difference." + +"I'm not speaking of Mr. Neergard, Gerald; I'm only trying to tell you +what this man Ruthven really is doing--" + +"What do I care what he is doing!" cried Gerald angrily. "And, anyway, +it isn't likely I'd come to you to find out anything about Mrs. +Ruthven's second husband!" + +Selwyn rose, very white and still. After a moment he drew a quiet +breath, his clinched hands relaxed, and he picked up his hat and gloves. + +"They are my friends," muttered Gerald, as pale as he. "You drove me +into speaking that way." + +"Perhaps I did, my boy. . . . I don't judge you. . . . If you ever find +you need help, come to me; and if you can't come, and still need me, +send for me. I'll do what I can--always. I know you better than you know +yourself. Good-bye." + +He turned to the door; and Gerald burst out: "Why can't you let my +friends alone? I liked you before you began this sort of thing!" + +"I will let them alone if you will," said Selwyn, halting. "I can't +stand by and see you exploited and used and perverted. Will you give me +one chance to talk it over, Gerald?" + +"No, I wont!" returned Gerald hotly; "I'll stand for my friends every +time! There's no treachery in me!" + +"You are not standing by me very fast," said the elder man gently. + +"I said I was standing by my _friends_!" repeated the boy. + +"Very well, Gerald; but it's at the expense of your own people, I'm +afraid." + +"That's my business, and you're not one of 'em!" retorted the boy, +infuriated; "and you won't be, either, if I can prevent it, no matter +whether people say that you're engaged to her--" + +"What!" whispered Selwyn, wheeling like a flash. The last vestige of +colour had fled from his face; and Gerald caught his breath, almost +blinded by the blaze of fury in the elder man's eyes. + +Neither spoke again; and after a moment Selwyn's eyes fell, he turned +heavily on his heel and walked away, head bent, gray eyes narrowing to +slits. + +Yet, through the brain's chaos and the heart's loud tumult and the +clamour of pulses run wild at the insult flung into his very face, the +grim instinct to go on persisted. And he went on, and on, for _her_ +sake--on--he knew not how--until he came to Neergard's apartment in one +of the vast West-Side constructions, bearing the name of a sovereign +state; and here, after an interval, he followed his card to Neergard's +splendid suite, where a man-servant received him and left him seated by +a sunny window overlooking the blossoming foliage of the Park. + +When Neergard came in, and stood on the farther side of a big oak table, +Selwyn rose, returning the cool, curt nod. + +"Mr. Neergard," he said, "it is not easy for me to come here after what +I said to you when I severed my connection with your firm. You have +every reason to be unfriendly toward me; but I came on the chance that +whatever resentment you may feel will not prevent you from hearing me +out." + +"Personal resentment," said Neergard slowly, "never interferes with my +business. I take it, of course, that you have called upon a business +matter. Will you sit down?" + +"Thank you; I have only a moment. And what I am here for is to ask you, +as Mr. Erroll's friend, to use your influence on Mr. Erroll--every atom +of your influence--to prevent him from ruining himself financially +through his excesses. I ask you, for his family's sake, to +discountenance any more gambling; to hold him strictly to his duties in +your office, to overlook no more shortcomings of his, but to demand from +him what any trained business man demands of his associates as well as +of his employees. I ask this for the boy's sake." + +Neergard's close-set eyes focussed a trifle closer to Selwyn's, yet did +not meet them. + +"Mr. Selwyn," he said, "have you come here to criticise the conduct of +my business?" + +"Criticise! No, I have not. I merely ask you--" + +"You are merely asking me," cut in Neergard, "to run my office, my +clerks, and my associate in business after some theory of your own." + +Selwyn looked at the man and knew he had lost; yet he forced himself to +go on: + +"The boy regards you as his friend. Could you not, as his friend, +discourage his increasing tendency toward dissipation--" + +"I am not aware that he is dissipated." + +"What!" + +"I say that I am not aware that Gerald requires any interference from +me--or from you, either," said Neergard coolly. "And as far as that +goes, I and my business require no interference either. And I believe +that settles it." + +He touched a button; the man-servant appeared to usher Selwyn out. + +The latter set his teeth in his under lip and looked straight and hard +at Neergard, but Neergard thrust both hands in his pockets, turned +squarely on his heel, and sauntered out of the room, yawning as he went. + +It bid fair to become a hard day for Selwyn; he foresaw it, for there +was more for him to do, and the day was far from ended, and his +self-restraint was nearly exhausted! + +An hour later he sent his card in to Rosamund Fane; and Rosamund came +down, presently, mystified, flattered, yet shrewdly alert and prepared +for anything since the miracle of his coming justified such preparation. + +"Why in the world," she said with a flushed gaiety perfectly genuine, +"did you ever come to see _me_? Will you please sit here, rather near +me?--or I shall not dare believe that you are that same Captain Selwyn +who once was so deliciously rude to me at the Minster's dance." + +"Was there not a little malice--just a very little--on your part to +begin it?" he asked, smiling. + +"Malice? Why? Just because I wanted to see how you and Alixe Ruthven +would behave when thrust into each other's arms? Oh, Captain +Selwyn--what a harmless little jest of mine to evoke all that bitterness +you so smilingly poured out on me! . . . But I forgave you; I'll forgive +you more than that--if you ask me. Do you know"--and she laid her small +head on one side and smiled at him out of her pretty doll's eyes--"do +you know that there are very few things I might not be persuaded to +pardon you? Perhaps"--with laughing audacity--"there are not any at all. +Try, if you please." + +"Then you surely will forgive me for what I have come to ask you," he +said lightly. "Won't you?" + +"Yes," she said, her pink-and-white prettiness challenging him from +every delicate feature--"yes--I will pardon you--on one condition." + +"And what is that, Mrs. Fane?" + +"That you are going to ask me something quite unpardonable!" she said +with a daring little laugh. "For if it's anything less improper than an +impropriety I won't forgive you. Besides, there'd be nothing to forgive. +So please begin, Captain Selwyn." + +"It's only this," he said: "I am wondering whether you would do anything +for me?" + +"_Any_thing! _Merci_! Isn't that extremely general, Captain Selwyn? But +you never can tell; ask me." + +So he bent forward, his clasped hands between his knees, and told her +very earnestly of his fears about Gerald, asking her to use her +undoubted influence with the boy to shame him from the card-tables, +explaining how utterly disastrous to him and his family his present +course was. + +"He is very fond of you, Mrs. Fane--and you know how easy it is for a +boy to be laughed out of excesses by a pretty woman of experience. You +see I am desperately put to it or I would never have ventured to trouble +you--" + +"I see," she said, looking at him out of eyes bright with +disappointment. + +"Could you help us, then?" he asked pleasantly. + +"Help _us_, Captain Selwyn? Who is the 'us,' please?" + +"Why, Gerald and me--and his family," he added, meeting her eyes. The +eyes began to dance with malice. + +"His family," repeated Rosamund; "that is to say, his sister, Miss +Erroll. His family, I believe, ends there; does it not?" + +"Yes, Mrs. Fane." + +"I see. . . . Miss Erroll is naturally worried over him. But I wonder +why she did not come to me herself instead of sending you as her errant +ambassador?" + +"Miss Erroll did not send me," he said, flushing up. And, looking +steadily into the smiling doll's face confronting him, he knew again +that he had failed. + +"I am not inclined to be very much flattered after all," said Rosamund. +"You should have come on your own errand, Captain Selwyn, if you +expected a woman to listen to you. Did you not know that?" + +"It is not a question of errands or of flattery," he said wearily; "I +thought you might care to influence a boy who is headed for serious +trouble--that is all, Mrs. Fane." + +She smiled: "Come to me on your _own_ errand--for Gerald's sake, for +anybody's sake--for your own, preferably, and I'll listen. But don't +come to me on another woman's errands, for I won't listen--even to you." + +"I _have_ come on my own errand!" he repeated coldly. "Miss Erroll knew +nothing about it, and shall not hear of it from me. Can you not help me, +Mrs. Fane?" + +But Rosamund's rose-china features had hardened into a polished smile; +and Selwyn stood up, wearily, to make his adieux. + +But, as he entered his hansom before the door, he knew the end was not +yet; and once more he set his face toward the impossible; and once more +the hansom rolled away over the asphalt, and once more it stopped--this +time before the house of Ruthven. + +Every step he took now was taken through sheer force of will--and in +_her_ service; because, had it been, now, only for Gerald's sake, he +knew he must have weakened--and properly, perhaps, for a man owes +something to himself. But what he was now doing was for a young girl who +trusted him with all the fervour and faith of her heart and soul; and he +could spare himself in nowise if, in his turn, he responded heart and +soul to the solemn appeal. + +Mr. Ruthven, it appeared, was at home and would receive Captain Selwyn +in his own apartment. + +Which he did--after Selwyn had been seated for twenty minutes--strolling +in clad only in silken lounging clothes, and belting about his waist, as +he entered, the sash of a kimona, stiff with gold. + +His greeting was a pallid stare; but, as Selwyn made no motion to rise, +he lounged over to a couch and, half reclining among the cushions, shot +an insolent glance at Selwyn, then yawned and examined the bangles on +his wrist. + +After a moment Selwyn said: "Mr. Ruthven, you are no doubt surprised +that I am here--" + +"I'm not surprised if it's my wife you've come to see," drawled Ruthven. +"If I'm the object of your visit, I confess to some surprise--as much as +the visit is worth, and no more." + +The vulgarity of the insult under the man's own roof scarcely moved +Selwyn to any deeper contempt, and certainly not to anger. + +"I did not come here to ask a favour of you," he said coolly--"for that +is out of the question, Mr. Ruthven. But I came to tell you that Mr. +Erroll's family has forbidden him to continue his gambling in this house +and in your company anywhere or at any time." + +"Most extraordinary," murmured Ruthven, passing his ringed fingers over +his minutely shaven face--that strange face of a boy hardened by the +depravity of ages. + +"So I must request you," continued Selwyn, "to refuse him the +opportunity of gambling here. Will you do it--voluntarily?" + +"No." + +"Then I shall use my judgment in the matter." + +"And what may your judgment in the matter be?" + +"I have not yet decided; for one thing I might enter a complaint with +the police that a boy is being morally and materially ruined in your +private gambling establishment." + +"Is that a threat?" + +"No. I will act, not threaten." + +"Ah," drawled Ruthven, "I may do the same the next time my wife spends +the evening in your apartment." + +"You lie," said Selwyn in a voice made low by surprise. + +"Oh, no, I don't. Very chivalrous of you--quite proper for you to deny +it like a gentleman--but useless, quite useless. So the less said about +invoking the law, the better for--some people. You'll agree with me, I +dare say. . . . And now, concerning your friend, Gerald Erroll--I have +not the slightest desire to see him play cards. Whether or not he plays +is a matter perfectly indifferent to me, and you had better understand +it. But if you come here demanding that I arrange my guest-lists to suit +you, you are losing time." + +Selwyn, almost stunned at Ruthven's knowledge of the episode in his +rooms, had risen as he gave the man the lie direct. + +For an instant, now, as he stared at him, there was murder in his eye. +Then the utter hopeless helplessness of his position overwhelmed him, as +Ruthven, with danger written all over him, stood up, his soft smooth +thumbs hooked in the glittering sash of his kimona. + +"Scowl if you like," he said, backing away instinctively, but still +nervously impertinent; "and keep your distance! If you've anything +further to say to me, write it." Then, growing bolder as Selwyn made no +offensive move, "Write to me," he repeated with a venomous smirk; "it's +safer for you to figure as _my_ correspondent than as my wife's +co-respondent--L-let go of me! W-what the devil are you d-d-doing--" + +For Selwyn had him fast--one sinewy hand twisted in his silken collar, +holding him squirming at arm's length. + +"M-murder!" stammered Mr. Ruthven. + +"No," said Selwyn, "not this time. But be very, very careful after +this." + +And he let him go with an involuntary shudder, and wiped his hands on +his handkerchief. + +Ruthven stood quite still; and after a moment the livid terror died out +in his face and a rushing flush spread over it--a strange, dreadful +shade, curiously opaque; and he half turned, dizzily, hands outstretched +for self-support. + +Selwyn coolly watched him as he sank on to the couch and sat huddled +together and leaning forward, his soft, ringed fingers covering his +impurpled face. + +Then Selwyn went away with a shrug of utter loathing; but after he had +gone, and Ruthven's servants had discovered him and summoned a +physician, their master lay heavily amid his painted draperies and +cushions, his congested features set, his eyes partly open and +possessing sight, but the whites of them had disappeared and the eyes +themselves, save for the pupils, were like two dark slits filled with +blood. + +There was no doubt about it; the doctors, one and all, knew their +business when they had so often cautioned Mr. Ruthven to avoid sudden +and excessive emotions. + +That night Selwyn wrote briefly to Mrs. Ruthven: + + "I saw your husband this afternoon. He is at liberty to inform you + of what passed. But in case he does not, there is one detail which + you ought to know: your husband believes that you once paid a visit + to my apartments. It is unlikely that he will repeat the accusation + and I think there is no occasion for you to worry. However, it is + only proper that you should know this--which is my only excuse for + writing you a letter that requires no acknowledgment. Very truly + yours, + + "PHILIP SELWYN." + +To this letter she wrote an excited and somewhat incoherent reply; and +rereading it in troubled surprise, he began to recognise in it +something of the strange, illogical, impulsive attitude which had +confronted him in the first weeks of his wedded life. + +Here was the same minor undertone of unrest sounding ominously through +every line; the same illogical, unhappy attitude which implied so much +and said so little, leaving him uneasy and disconcerted, conscious of +the vague recklessness and veiled reproach--dragging him back from the +present through the dead years to confront once more the old pain, the +old bewilderment at the hopeless misunderstanding between them. + +He wrote in answer: + + "For the first time in my life I am going to write you some + unpleasant truths. I cannot comprehend what you have written; I + cannot interpret what you evidently imagine I must divine in these + pages--yet, as I read, striving to understand, all the old familiar + pain returns--the hopeless attempt to realise wherein I failed in + what you expected of me. + + "But how can I, now, be held responsible for your unhappiness and + unrest--for the malicious attitude, as you call it, of the world + toward you? Years ago you felt that there existed some occult + coalition against you, and that I was either privy to it or + indifferent. I was not indifferent, but I did not believe there + existed any reason for your suspicions. This was the beginning of + my failure to understand you; I was sensible enough that we were + unhappy, yet could not see any reason for it--could see no reason + for the increasing restlessness and discontent which came over you + like successive waves following some brief happy interval when your + gaiety and beauty and wit fairly dazzled me and everybody who came + near you. And then, always hateful and irresistible, followed the + days of depression, of incomprehensible impulses, of that strange + unreasoning resentment toward me. + + "What could I do? I don't for a moment say that there was nothing I + might have done. Certainly there must have been something; but I + did not know what. And often in my confusion and bewilderment I was + quick-tempered, impatient to the point of exasperation--so utterly + unable was I to understand wherein I was failing to make you + contented. + + "Of course I could not shirk or avoid field duty or any of the + details which so constantly took me away from you. Also I began to + understand your impatience of garrison life, of the monotony of the + place, of the climate, of the people. But all this, which I could + not help, did not account for those dreadful days together when I + could see that every minute was widening the breach between us. + + "Alixe--your letter has brought it all back, vivid, distressing, + exasperating; and this time I _know_ that I could have done nothing + to render you unhappy, because the time when I was responsible for + such matters is past. + + "And this--forgive me if I say it--arouses a doubt in me--the first + honest doubt I have had of my own unshared culpability. Perhaps + after all a little more was due from you than what you brought to + our partnership--a little more patience, a little more appreciation + of my own inexperience and of my efforts to make you happy. You + were, perhaps, unwittingly exacting--even a little bit selfish. And + those sudden, impulsive caprices for a change of environment--an + escape from the familiar--were they not rather hard on me who + could do nothing--who had no choice in the matter of obedience to + my superiors? + + "Again and again I asked you to go to some decent climate and wait + for me until I could get leave. I stood ready and willing to make + any arrangement for you, and you made no decision. + + "Then when Barnard's command moved out we had our last distressing + interview. And, if that night I spoke of your present husband and + asked you to be a little wiser and use a little more discretion to + avoid malicious comment--it was not because I dreamed of + distrusting you--it was merely for your own guidance and because + you had so often complained of other people's gossip about you. + + "To say I was stunned, crushed, when I learned of what had happened + in my absence, is to repeat a trite phrase. What it cost me is of + no consequence now; what it is now costing you I cannot help. + + "Yet, your letter, in every line, seems to imply some strange + responsibility on my part for what you speak of as the degrading + position you now occupy. + + "Degradation or not--let us leave that aside; you cannot now avoid + being his wife. But as for any hostile attitude of society in your + regard--any league or coalition to discredit you--that is not + apparent to me. Nor can it occur if your personal attitude toward + the world is correct. Discretion and circumspection, a happy, + confident confronting of life--these, and a wise recognition of + conditions, constitute sufficient safeguard for a woman in your + delicately balanced position. + + "And now, one thing more. You ask me to meet you at Sherry's for a + conference. I don't care to, Alixe. There is nothing to be said + except what can be written on letter-paper. And I can see neither + the necessity nor the wisdom of our writing any more letters." + +For a few days no reply came; then he received such a strange, unhappy, +and desperate letter, that, astonished, alarmed, and apprehensive, he +went straight to his sister, who had run up to town for the day from +Silverside, and who had telephoned him to take her somewhere for +luncheon. + +Nina appeared very gay and happy and youthful in her spring plumage, but +she exclaimed impatiently at his tired and careworn pallor; and when a +little later they were seated tete-a-tete in the rococo dining-room of a +popular French restaurant, she began to urge him to return with her, +insisting that a week-end at Silverside was what he needed to avert +physical disintegration. + +"What is there to keep you in town?" she demanded, breaking bits from +the stick of crisp bread. "The children have been clamouring for you day +and night, and Eileen has been expecting a letter--You promised to write +her, Phil--!" + +"I'm going to write to her," he said impatiently; "wait a moment, +Nina--don't speak of anything pleasant or--or intimate just +now--because--because I've got to bring up another matter--something not +very pleasant to me or to you. May I begin?" + +"What is it, Phil?" she asked, her quick, curious eyes intent on his +troubled face. + +"It is about--Alixe." + +"What about her?" returned his sister calmly. + +"You knew her in school--years ago. You have always known her--" + +"Yes." + +"You--did you ever visit her?--stay at the Varians' house?" + +"Yes." + +"In--in her own home in Westchester?" + +"Yes." + +There was a silence; his eyes shifted to his plate; remained fixed as he +said: + +"Then you knew her--father?" + +"Yes, Phil," she said quietly, "I knew Mr. Varian." + +"Was there anything--anything unusual--about him--in those days?" + +"Have you heard that for the first time?" asked his sister. + +He looked up: "Yes. What was it, Nina?" + +She became busy with her plate for a while; he sat rigid, patient, one +hand resting on his claret-glass. And presently she said without meeting +his eyes: + +"It was even farther back--her grandparents--one of them--" She lifted +her head slowly--"That is why it so deeply concerned us, Phil, when we +heard of your marriage." + +"What concerned you?" + +"The chance of inheritance--the risk of the taint--of transmitting it. +Her father's erratic brilliancy became more than eccentricity before I +knew him. I would have told you that had I dreamed that you ever could +have thought of marrying Alixe Varian. But how could I know you would +meet her out there in the Orient! It was--your cable to us was like a +thunderbolt. . . . And when she--she left you so suddenly--Phil, dear--I +_feared_ the true reason--the only possible reason that could be +responsible for such an insane act." + +"What was the truth about her father?" he said doggedly. "He was +eccentric; was he ever worse than that?" + +"The truth was that he became mentally irresponsible before his death." + +"You _know_ this?" + +"Alixe told me when we were schoolgirls. And for days she was haunted +with the fear of what might one day be her inheritance. That is all I +know, Phil." + +He nodded and for a while made some pretence of eating, but presently +leaned back and looked at his sister out of dazed eyes. + +"Do you suppose," he said heavily, "that _she_ was not entirely +responsible when--when she went away?" + +"I have wondered," said Nina simply. "Austin believes it." + +"But--but--how in God's name could that be possible? She was so +brilliant--so witty, so charmingly and capriciously normal--" + +"Her father was brilliant and popular--when he was young. Austin knew +him, Phil. I have often, often wondered whether Alixe realises what she +is about. Her restless impulses, her intervals of curious resentment--so +many things which I remember and which, now, I cannot believe were +entirely normal. . . . It is a dreadful surmise to make about anybody so +youthful, so pretty, so lovable--and yet, it is the kindest way to +account for her strange treatment of you--" + +"I can't believe it," he said, staring at vacancy. "I refuse to." And, +thinking of her last frightened and excited letter imploring an +interview with him and giving the startling reason: "What a scoundrel +that fellow Ruthven is," he said with a shudder. + +"Why, what has he--" + +"Nothing. I can't discuss it, Nina--" + +"Please tell me, Phil!" + +"There is nothing to tell." + +She said deliberately: "I hope there is not, Phil. Nor do I credit any +mischievous gossip which ventures to link my brother's name with the +name of Mrs. Ruthven." + +He paid no heed to what she hinted, and he was still thinking of Ruthven +when he said: "The most contemptible and cowardly thing a man can do is +to fail a person dependent on him--when that person is in prospective +danger. The dependence, the threatened helplessness _must_ appeal to any +man! How can he, then, fail to stand by a person in trouble--a person +linked to him by every tie, every obligation. Why--why to fail at such a +time is dastardly--and to--to make a possible threatened infirmity a +reason for abandoning a woman is monstrous--!" + +"Phil! I never for a moment supposed that even if you suspected Alixe to +be not perfectly responsible you would have abandoned her--" + +"_I?_ Abandon _her!_" He laughed bitterly. "I was not speaking of +myself," he said. . . . And to himself he wondered: "Was it +_that_--after all? Is that the key to my dreadful inability to +understand? I cannot--I cannot accept it. I know her; it was not that; +it--it must not be!" + +And that night he wrote to her: + + "If he threatens you with divorce on such a ground he himself is + likely to be adjudged mentally unsound. It was a brutal, stupid + threat, nothing more; and his insult to your father's memory was + more brutal still. Don't be stampeded by such threats. Disprove + them by your calm self-control under provocation; disprove them by + your discretion and self-confidence. Give nobody a single possible + reason for gossip. And above all, Alixe, don't become worried and + morbid over anything you might dread as inheritance, for you are as + sound to-day as you were when I first met you; and you shall not + doubt that you could ever be anything else. Be the woman you can + be! Show the pluck and courage to make the very best out of life. I + have slowly learned to attempt it; and it is not difficult if you + convince yourself that it can be done." + +To this she answered the next day: + + "I will do my best. There is danger and treachery everywhere; and + if it becomes unendurable I shall put an end to it in one way or + another. As for his threat--incident on my admitting that I did go + to your room, and defying him to dare believe evil of me for doing + it--I can laugh at it now--though, when I wrote you, I was + terrified--remembering how mentally broken my father was when he + died. + + "But, as you say, I _am_ sound, body and mind. I _know_ it; I don't + doubt it for one moment--except--at long intervals when, apropos of + nothing, a faint sensation of dread comes creeping. + + "But I am _sound_! I know it so absolutely that I sometimes wonder + at my own perfect sanity and understanding; and so clearly, so + faultlessly, so precisely does my mind work that--and this I never + told you--I am often and often able to detect mental inadequacy in + many people around me--the slightest deviation from the normal, the + least degree of mental instability. Phil, so sensitive to + extraneous impression is my mind that you would be astonished to + know how instantly perceptible to me is mental degeneration in + other people. And it would amaze you, too, if I should tell you how + many, many people you know are, in some degree, more or less + insane. + + "But there is no use in going into such matters; all I meant to + convey to you was that I am not frightened now at any threat of + that sort from him. + + "I don't know what passed between you and him; he won't tell me; + but I do know from the servants that he has been quite ill--I was + in Westchester that night--and that something happened to his + eyes--they were dreadful for a while. I imagine it has something to + do with veins and arteries; and it's understood that he's to avoid + sudden excitement. + + "However, he's only serenely disagreeable to me now, and we see + almost nothing of one another except over the card-tables. Gerald + has been winning rather heavily, I am glad to say--glad, as long as + I cannot prevent him from playing. And yet I may be able to + accomplish that yet--in a roundabout way--because the apple-visaged + and hawk-beaked Mr. Neergard has apparently become my slavish + creature; quite infatuated. And as soon as I've fastened on his + collar, and made sure that Rosamund can't unhook it, I'll try to + make him shut down on Gerald's playing. This for your sake, + Phil--because you ask me. And because you must always stand for all + that is upright and good and manly in my eyes. Ah, Phil! what a + fool I was! And all, all my own fault, too. + + "Alixe." + +This ended the sudden eruption of correspondence; for he did not reply +to this letter, though in it he read enough to make him gravely uneasy; +and he fell, once more, into the habit of brooding, from which both +Boots Lansing and Eileen had almost weaned him. + +Also he began to take long solitary walks in the Park when not occupied +in conferences with the representatives of the Lawn Nitro-Powder +Works--a company which had recently approached him in behalf of his +unperfected explosive, Chaosite. + +This hermit life might have continued in town indefinitely had he not, +one morning, been surprised by a note from Eileen--the first he had ever +had from her. + +It was only a very brief missive--piquant, amusing, innocently audacious +in closing--a mere reminder that he had promised to write to her; and +she ended it by asking him very plainly whether he had not missed her, +in terms so frank, so sweet, so confident of his inevitable answer, that +all the enchantment of their delightful intimacy surged back in one +quick tremor of happiness, washing from his heart and soul the clinging, +sordid, evil things which were creeping closer, closer to torment and +overwhelm him. + +And all that day he went about his business quite happily, her letter in +his pocket; and that night, taking a new pen and pen holder, he laid out +his very best letter-paper, and began the first letter he had ever +written to Eileen Erroll. + + "DEAR EILEEN: I have your charming little note from Silverside + reminding me that I had promised to write you. But I needed no + reminder; you know that. Then why have I not written? I couldn't, + off-hand. And every day and evening except to-day and this evening + I have been in conference with Edgerton Lawn and other + representatives of the Lawn Nitro-Powder Company; and have come to + a sort of semi-agreement with them concerning a high explosive + called Chaosite, which they desire to control the sale of as soon + as I can control its tendency to misbehave. This I expect to do + this summer; and Austin has very kindly offered me a tiny cottage + out on the moors too far from anybody or anything to worry people. + + "I know you will be glad to hear that I have such attractive + business prospects in view. I dare say I shall scarcely know what + to do with my enormous profits a year or two hence. Have you any + suggestions? + + "Meanwhile, however, your letter and its questions await answers; + and here they are: + + "Yes, I saw Gerald once at his club and had a short talk with him. + He was apparently well. You should not feel so anxious about him. + He is very young, yet, but he comes from good stock. Sooner or + later he is bound to find himself; you must not doubt that. Also he + knows that he can always come to me when he wishes. + + "No, I have not ridden in the Park since you and Nina and the + children went to Silverside. I walked there Sunday, and it was most + beautiful, especially through the Ramble. In his later years my + father was fond of walking there with me. That is one reason I go + there; he seems to be very near me when I stand under the familiar + trees or move along the flowering walks he loved so well. I wish + you had known him. It is curious how often this wish recurs to me; + and so persistent was it in the Park that lovely Sunday that, at + moments, it seemed as though we three were walking there + together--he and you and I--quite happy in the silence of + companionship which seemed not of yesterday but of years. + + "It is rather a comforting faculty I have--this unconscious + companionship with the absent. Once I told you that you had been + with me while you supposed yourself to be at Silverside. Do you + remember? Now, here in the city, I walk with you constantly; and we + often keep pace together through crowded streets and avenues; and + in the quiet hours you are very often, seated not far from where I + sit. . . . If I turned around now--so real has been your presence + in my room to-night--that it seems as though I could not help but + surprise you here--just yonder on the edges of the lamp glow-- + + "But I know you had rather remain at Silverside, so I won't turn + around and surprise you here in Manhattan town. + + "And now your next question: Yes, Boots is well, and I will give + him Drina's love, and I will try my best to bring him to Silverside + when I come. Boots is still crazed with admiration for his house. + He has two cats, a housekeeper, and a jungle of shrubs and vines in + the back yard, which he plays the hose on; and he has also acquired + some really beautiful old rugs--a Herez which has all the tints of + a living sapphire, and a charming antique Shiraz, rose, gold, and + that rare old Persian blue. To mention symbols for a moment, + apropos of our archaeological readings together, Boots has an + antique Asia Minor rug in which I discovered not only the Swastika, + but also a fire-altar, a Rhodian lily border, and a Mongolian motif + which appears to resemble the cloud-band. It was quite an Anatshair + jumble in fact, very characteristic. We must capture Nina some day + and she and you and I will pay a visit to Boots's rugs and study + these old dyes and mystic symbols of the East. Shall we? + + "And now your last question. And I answer: Yes, I do miss you--so + badly that I often take refuge in summoning you in spirit. The + other day I had occasion to see Austin; and we sat in the library + where all the curtains are in linen bags and all the furniture in + overalls, and where the rugs are rolled in tarred paper and the + pictures are muffled in cheese-cloth. + + "And after our conference had ended and I was on my way to the hall + below, suddenly on my ear, faint but clear, I heard your voice, + sweet as the odour of blossoms in an empty room. No--it neither + deceived nor startled me; I have often heard it before, when you + were nowhere near. And, that I may answer your question more + completely, I answer it again: Yes, I miss you; so that I hear your + voice through every silence; all voids are gay with it; there are + no lonely places where my steps pass, because you are always near; + no stillness through which your voice does not sound; no + unhappiness, no sordid cares which the memory of you does not make + easier to endure. + + "Have I answered? And now, good-night. Gerald has just come in; I + hear him passing through the hall to his own apartments. So I'll + drop in for a smoke with him before I start to search for you in + dreamland. Good-night, Eileen. PHILIP SELWYN." + +When he had finished, sealed, and stamped his letter he leaned back in +his chair, smiling to himself, still under the spell which the thought +of her so often now cast over him. Life and the world were younger, +cleaner, fresher; the charming energy of her physical vigour and youth +and beauty tinted all things with the splendid hue of inspiration. But +most of all it was the exquisite fastidiousness of her thoughts that had +begun to inthral him--that crystal clear intelligence, so direct, so +generous--the splendid wholesome attitude toward life--and her dauntless +faith in the goodness of it. + +Breathing deeply, he drew in the fragrance of her memory, and the +bitterness of things was dulled with every quiet respiration. + +He smiled again, too; how utterly had his sister mistaken their frank +companionship! How stupidly superfluous was it to pretend to detect, in +their comradeship, the commonplaces of sentiment--as though such a girl +as Eileen Erroll were of the common self-conscious mould--as though in +their cordial understanding there was anything less simple than +community of taste and the mutual attraction of intelligence! + +Then, the memory of what his sister had said drove the smile from his +face and he straightened up impatiently. Love! What unfortunate +hallucination had obsessed Nina to divine what did not exist?--what need +not exist? How could a woman like his sister fall into such obvious +error; how could she mistake such transparent innocence, such visible +freedom from motive in this young girl's pure friendship for himself? + +And, as for him, he had never thought of Eileen--he could not bring +himself to think of her so materially or sentimentally. For, although he +now understood that he had never known what love, might be--its coarser +mask, infatuation, he had learned to see through; and, as that is all he +had ever known concerning love, the very hint of it had astonished and +repelled him, as though the mere suggestion had been a rudeness offered +to this delicate and delicious friendship blossoming into his life--a +life he had lately thought so barren and laid waste. + +No, his sister was mistaken; but her mistake must not disturb the +blossoming of this unstained flower. Sufficient that Eileen and he +disdainfully ignore the trite interpretation those outside might offer +them unasked; sufficient that their confidence in one another remain +without motive other than the happiness of unembarrassed people who find +a pleasure in sharing an intelligent curiosity concerning men and things +and the world about them. + +Thinking of these matters, lying back there in his desk chair, he +suddenly remembered that Gerald had come in. They had scarcely seen one +another since that unhappy meeting in the Stuyvesant Club; and now, +remembering what he had written to Eileen, he emerged with a start from +his contented dreaming, sobered by the prospect of seeking Gerald. + +For a moment or two he hesitated; but he had said in his letter that he +was going to do it; and now he rose, looked around for his pipe, found +it, filled and lighted it, and, throwing on his dressing-gown, went out +into the corridor, tying the tasselled cords around his waist as he +walked. + +His first knock remaining unanswered, he knocked more sharply. Then he +heard from within the muffled creak of a bed, heavy steps across the +floor. The door opened with a jerk; Gerald stood there, eyes swollen, +hair in disorder, his collar crushed, and the white evening tie +unknotted and dangling over his soiled shirt-front. + +"Hello," said Selwyn simply; "may I come in?" + +The boy passed his hand across his eyes as though confused by the light; +then he turned and walked back toward the bed, still rubbing his eyes, +and sat down on the edge. + +Selwyn closed the door and seated himself, apparently not noticing +Gerald's dishevelment. + +"Thought I'd drop in for a good-night pipe," he said quietly. "By the +way, Gerald, I'm going down to Silverside next week. Nina has asked +Boots, too. Couldn't you fix it to come along with us?" + +"I don't know," said the boy in a low voice; "I'd like to." + +"Good business! That will be fine! What you and I need is a good stiff +tramp across the moors, or a gallop, if you like. It's great for mental +cobwebs, and my brain is disgracefully unswept. By the way, somebody +said that you'd joined the Siowitha Club." + +"Yes," said the boy listlessly. + +"Well, you'll get some lively trout fishing there now. It's only thirty +miles from Silverside, you know--you can run over in the motor very +easily." + +Gerald nodded, sitting silent, his handsome head supported in both +hands, his eyes on the floor. + +That something was very wrong with him appeared plainly enough; but +Selwyn, touched to the heart and miserably apprehensive, dared not +question him, unasked. + +And so they sat there for a while, Selwyn making what conversation he +could; and at length Gerald turned and dragged himself across the bed, +dropping his head back on the disordered pillows. + +"Go on," he said; "I'm listening." + +So Selwyn continued his pleasant, inconsequential observations, and +Gerald lay with closed eyes, quite motionless, until, watching him, +Selwyn saw his hand was trembling where it lay clinched beside him. And +presently the boy turned his face to the wall. + +Toward midnight Selwyn rose quietly, removed his unlighted pipe from +between his teeth, knocked the ashes from it, and pocketed it. Then he +walked to the bed and seated himself on the edge. + +"What's the trouble, old man?" he asked coolly. + +There was no answer. He placed his hand over Gerald's; the boy's hand +lay inert, then quivered and closed on Selwyn's convulsively. + +"That's right," said the elder man; "that's what I'm here for--to stand +by when you hoist signals. Go on." + +The boy shook his head and buried it deeper in the pillow. + +"Bad as that?" commented Selwyn quietly. "Well, what of it? I'm standing +by, I tell you. . . . That's right"--as Gerald broke down, his body +quivering under the spasm of soundless grief--"that's the safety-valve +working. Good business. Take your time." + +It took a long time; and Selwyn sat silent and motionless, his whole arm +numb from its position and Gerald's crushing grasp. And at last, seeing +that was the moment to speak: + +"Now let's fix up this matter, Gerald. Come on!" + +"Good heavens! h-how can it be f-fixed--" + +"I'll tell you when you tell me. It's a money difficulty, I suppose; +isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"Cards?" + +"P-partly." + +"Oh, a note? Case of honour? Where is this I.O.U. that you gave?" + +"It's worse than that. The--the note is paid. Good God--I can't tell +you--" + +"You must. That's why I'm here, Gerald." + +"Well, then, I--I drew a check--knowing that I had no funds. If it--if +they return it, marked--" + +"I see. . . . What are the figures?" + +The boy stammered them out; Selwyn's grave face grew graver still. + +"That is bad," he said slowly--"very bad. Have you--but of course you +couldn't have seen Austin--" + +"I'd kill myself first!" said Gerald fiercely. + +"No, you wouldn't do that. You're not _that_ kind. . . . Keep perfectly +cool, Gerald; because it is going to be fixed. The method only remains +to be decided upon--" + +"I can't take your money!" stammered the boy; "I can't take a cent from +you--after what I've said--the beastly things I've said--" + +"It isn't the things you say to me, Gerald, that matter. . . . Let me +think a bit--and don't worry. Just lie quietly, and understand that I'll +do the worrying. And while I'm amusing myself with a little quiet +reflection as to ways and means, just take your own bearings from this +reef; and set a true course once more, Gerald. That is all the reproach, +all the criticism you are going to get from me. Deal with yourself and +your God in silence." + +And in silence and heavy dismay Selwyn confronted the sacrifice he must +make to save the honour of the house of Erroll. + +It meant more than temporary inconvenience to himself; it meant that he +must go into the market and sell securities which were partly his +capital, and from which came the modest income that enabled him to live +as he did. + +There was no other way, unless he went to Austin. But he dared not do +that--dared not think what Austin's action in the matter might be. And +he knew that if Gerald were ever driven into hopeless exile with +Austin's knowledge of his disgrace rankling, the boy's utter ruin must +result inevitably. + +Yet--yet--how could he afford to do this--unoccupied, earning nothing, +bereft of his profession, with only the chance in view that his Chaosite +might turn out stable enough to be marketable? How could he dare so +strip himself? Yet, there was no other way; it had to be done; and done +at once--the very first thing in the morning before it became too late. + +And at first, in the bitter resentment of the necessity, his impulse was +to turn on Gerald and bind him to good conduct by every pledge the boy +could give. At least there would be compensation. Yet, with the thought +came the clear conviction of its futility. The boy had brushed too close +to dishonour not to recognise it. And if this were not a lifelong lesson +to him, no promises forced from him in his dire need and distress, no +oaths, no pledges could bind him; no blame, no admonition, no scorn, no +contempt, no reproach could help him to see more clearly the pit of +destruction than he could see now. + +"You need sleep, Gerald," he said quietly. "Don't worry; I'll see that +your check is not dishonoured; all you have to see to is yourself. +Good-night, my boy." + +But Gerald could not speak; and so Selwyn left him and walked slowly +back to his own room, where he seated himself at his desk, grave, +absent-eyed, his unfilled pipe between his teeth. + +And he sat there until he had bitten clean through the amber mouthpiece, +so that the brier bowl fell clattering to the floor. By that time it was +full daylight; but Gerald was still asleep. He slept late into the +afternoon; but that evening, when Selwyn and Lansing came in to +persuade him to go with them to Silverside, Gerald was gone. + +They waited another day for him; he did not appear. And that night they +left for Silverside without him. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +SILVERSIDE + + +During that week-end at Silverside Boots behaved like a school-lad run +wild. With Drina's hand in his, half a dozen dogs as advanced guard, and +heavily flanked by the Gerard battalion, he scoured the moorlands from +Surf Point to the Hither Woods; from Wonder Head to Sky Pond. + +Ever hopeful of rabbit and fox, Billy urged on his cheerful waddling +pack and the sea wind rang with the crack of his whip and the treble +note of his whistle. Drina, lately inoculated with the virus of +nature-study, carried a green gauze butterfly net, while Boots's pockets +bulged with various lethal bottles and perforated tin boxes for the +reception of caterpillars. The other children, like the puppies of +Billy's pack, ran haphazard, tireless and eager little opportunists, +eternal prisoners of hope, tripped flat by creepers, scratched and +soiled in thicket and bog, but always up and forward again, ranging out, +nose in the wind, dauntless, expectant, wonder-eyed. + +Nina, Eileen, and Selwyn formed a lagging and leisurely rear-guard, +though always within signalling distance of Boots and the main body; +and, when necessary, the two ex-army men wig-wagged to each other across +the uplands to the endless excitement and gratification of the +children. + +It was a perfect week-end; the sky, pale as a robin's egg at morn and +even, deepened to royal blue under the noon-day sun; and all the +world--Long Island--seemed but a gigantic gold-green boat stemming the +running purple of the sea and Sound. + +The air, when still, quivered in that deep, rich silence instinct with +the perpetual monotone of the sea; stiller for the accentless call of +some lone moorland bird, or the gauzy clatter of a dragon-fly in reedy +reaches. But when the moon rose and the breeze awakened, and the sedges +stirred, and the cat's-paws raced across the moonlit ponds, and the far +surf off Wonder Head intoned the hymn of the four winds, the trinity, +earth and sky and water, became one thunderous symphony--a harmony of +sound and colour silvered to a monochrome by the moon. + +Then, through the tinted mystery the wild ducks, low flying, drove like +a flight of witches through the dusk; and unseen herons called from +their heronry, fainter, fainter till their goblin yelps died out in the +swelling murmur of a million wind-whipped leaves. + +Then was the moorland waste bewitching in its alternation of softly +checkered gray and shade, where acres of feathery grasses flowed in +wind-blown furrows; where in the purple obscurity of hollows the strange +and aged little forests grew restless and full of echoes; where shadowy +reeds like elfin swords clattered and thrust and parried across the +darkling pools of haunted waters unstirred save for the swirl of a +startled fish or the smoothly spreading wake of some furry creature +swimming without a sound. + +Into this magic borderland, dimmer for moonlit glimpses in ghostly +contrast to the shadow shape of wood and glade, Eileen conducted Selwyn; +and they heard the whirr of painted wood-ducks passing in obscurity, +and the hymn of the four winds off Wonder Head; and they heard the +herons, noisy in their heronry, and a young fox yapping on a moon-struck +dune. + +But Selwyn cared more for the sun and the infinite blue above, and the +vast cloud-forms piled up in argent splendour behind a sea of amethyst. + +"The darker, vaguer phases of beauty," he said to Eileen, smiling, +"attract and fascinate those young in experience. Tragedy is always +better appreciated and better rendered by those who have never lived it. +The anatomy of sadness, the subtler fascination of life brooding in +shadow, appeals most keenly to those who can study and reflect, then +dismiss it all and return again to the brightness of existence which has +not yet for them been tarnished." + +He had never before, even by slightest implication, referred to his own +experience with life. She was not perfectly certain that he did so now. + +They were standing on one of the treeless hills--a riotous tangle of +grasses and wild flowers--looking out to sea across Sky Pond. He had a +rod; and as he stood he idly switched the gaily coloured flies backward +and forward. + +"My tastes," he said, still smiling, "incline me to the garishly sunlit +side of this planet." And, to tease her and arouse her to combat: "I +prefer a farandole to a nocturne; I'd rather have a painting than an +etching; Mr. Whistler bores me with his monochromatic mud; I don't like +dull colours, dull sounds, dull intellects; and anything called 'an +arrangement' on canvas, or anything called 'a human document' or 'an +appreciation' in literature, or anything 'precious' in art, or any +author who 'weaves' instead of writes his stories--all these irritate +me when they do not first bore me to the verge of anaesthesia." + +He switched his trout-flies defiantly, hopeful of an indignant retort +from her; but she only laughed and glanced at him, and shook her pretty +head. + +"There's just enough truth in what you say to make a dispute quite +profitless. Besides, I don't feel like single combat; I'm too glad to +have you here." + +Standing there--fairly swimming--in the delicious upper-air currents, +she looked blissfully across the rolling moors, while the sunlight +drenched her and the salt wind winnowed the ruddy glory of her hair, and +from the tangle of tender blossoming green things a perfume mounted, +saturating her senses as she breathed it deeper in the happiness of +desire fulfilled and content quite absolute. + +"After all," she said, "what more is there than this? Earth and sea and +sky and sun, and a friend to show them to. . . . Because, as I wrote +you, the friend is quite necessary in the scheme of things--to round out +the symmetry of it all. . . . I suppose you're dying to dangle those +flies in Brier Water to see whether there are any trout there. Well, +there are; Austin stocked it years ago, and he never fishes, so no doubt +it's full of fish. . . . What is that black thing moving along the edge +of the Golden Marsh?" + +"A mink," he said, looking. + +She seated herself cross-legged on the hill-top to watch the mink at her +leisure. But the lithe furry creature took to the water, dived, and +vanished, and she turned her attention to the landscape. + +"Do you see that lighthouse far to the south?" she asked; "that is +Frigate Light. West of it lies Surf Point, and the bay between is Surf +Bay. That's where I nearly froze solid in my first ocean bath of the +year. A little later we can bathe in that cove to the north--the Bay of +Shoals. You see it, don't you?--there, lying tucked in between Wonder +Head and the Hither Woods; but I forgot! Of course you've been here +before; and you know all this; don't you?" + +"Yes," he said quietly, "my brother and I came here as boys." + +"Have you not been here since?" + +"Once." He turned and looked down at the sea-battered wharf jutting into +the Bay of Shoals. "Once, since I was a boy," he repeated; "but I came +alone. The transports landed at that wharf after the Spanish war. The +hospital camp was yonder. . . . My brother died there." + +She lifted her clear eyes to his; he was staring at the outline of the +Hither Woods fringing the ochre-tinted heights. + +"There was no companion like him," he said; "there is no one to take his +place. Still, time helps--in a measure." + +But he looked out across the sea with a grief for ever new. + +She, too, had been helped by time; she was very young when the distant +and fabled seas took father and mother; and it was not entirely their +memory, but more the wistful lack of ability to remember that left her +so hopelessly alone. + +Sharper his sorrow; but there was the comfort of recollection in it; and +she looked at him and, for an instant, envied him his keener grief. Then +leaning a little toward him where he reclined, the weight of his body +propped up on one arm, she laid her hand across his hand half buried in +the grass. + +"It's only another tie between us," she said--"the memory of your dead +and mine. . . . Will you tell me about him?" + +And leaning there, eyes on the sea, and her smooth, young hand covering +his, he told her of the youth who had died there in the first flush of +manhood and achievement. + +His voice, steady and grave, came to her through hushed intervals when +the noise of the surf died out as the wind veered seaward. And she +listened, heart intent, until he spoke no more; and the sea-wind rose +again filling her ears with the ceaseless menace of the surf. + +After a while he picked up his rod, and sat erect and cross-legged as +she sat, and flicked the flies, absently, across the grass, aiming at +wind-blown butterflies. + +"All these changes!" he exclaimed with a sweep of the rod-butt toward +Widgeon Bay. "When I was here as a boy there were no fine estates, no +great houses, no country clubs, no game preserves--only a few +fishermen's hovels along the Bay of Shoals, and Frigate Light +yonder. . . . Then Austin built Silverside out of a much simpler, +grand-paternal bungalow; then came Sanxon Orchil and erected Hitherwood +House on the foundations of his maternal great-grandfather's cabin; and +then the others came; the Minsters built gorgeous Brookminster--you can +just make out their big summer palace--that white spot beyond Surf +Point!--and then the Lawns came and built Southlawn; and, beyond, the +Siowitha people arrived on scout, land-hungry and rich; and the tiny +hamlet of Wyossett grew rapidly into the town it now is. Truly this +island with its hundred miles of length has become but a formal garden +of the wealthy. Alas! I knew it as a stretch of woods, dunes, and +old-time villages where life had slumbered for two hundred years!" + +He fell silent, but she nodded him to go on. + +"Brooklyn was a quiet tree-shaded town," he continued thoughtfully, +"unvexed by dreams of traffic; Flatbush an old Dutch village buried in +the scented bloom of lilac, locust, and syringa, asleep under its +ancient gables, hip-roofs, and spreading trees. Bath, Utrecht, Canarsie, +Gravesend were little more than cross-road taverns dreaming in the sun; +and that vile and noise-cursed island beyond the Narrows was a stretch +of unpolluted beauty in an untainted sea--nothing but whitest sand and +dunes and fragrant bayberry and a blaze of wild flowers. Why"--and he +turned impatiently to the girl beside him--"why, I have seen the wild +geese settle in Sheepshead Bay, and the wild duck circling over it; and +I am not very aged. Think of it! Think of what this was but a few years +ago, and think of what 'progress' has done to lay it waste! What will it +be to-morrow?" + +"Oh--oh!" she protested, laughing; "I did not suppose you were that kind +of a Jeremiah!" + +"Well, I am. I see no progress in prostrate forests, in soft-coal smoke, +in noise! I see nothing gained in trimming and cutting and ploughing and +macadamising a heavenly wilderness into mincing little gardens for the +rich." He was smiling at his own vehemence, but she knew that he was +more than half serious. + +She liked him so; she always denied and disputed when he became +declamatory, though usually, in her heart, she agreed with him. + +"Oh--oh!" she protested, shaking her head; "your philosophy is that of +all reactionaries--emotional arguments which never can be justified. +Why, if the labouring man delights in the harmless hurdy-gurdy and +finds his pleasure mounted on a wooden horse, should you say that the +island of his delight is 'vile'? All fulfilment of harmless happiness is +progress, my poor friend--" + +"But my harmless happiness lay in seeing the wild-fowl splashing where +nothing splashes now except beer and the bathing rabble. If progress is +happiness--where is mine? Gone with the curlew and the wild duck! +Therefore, there is no progress. _Quod erat_, my illogical friend." + +"But _your_ happiness in such things was an exception--" + +"Exceptions prove anything!" + +"Yes--but--no, they don't, either! What nonsense you can talk when you +try to. . . . As for me I'm going down to the Brier Water to look into +it. If there are any trout there foolish enough to bite at those +gaudy-feathered hooks I'll call you--" + +"I'm going with you," he said, rising to his feet. She smilingly ignored +his offered hands and sprang erect unaided. + +The Brier Water, a cold, deep, leisurely stream, deserved its name. +Rising from a small spring-pond almost at the foot of Silverside lawn, +it wound away through tangles of bull-brier and wild-rose, under arches +of weed and grass and clustered thickets of mint, north through one of +the strange little forests where it became a thread edged with a +duck-haunted bog, then emerging as a clear deep stream once more it +curved sharply south, recurved north again, and flowed into Shell Pond +which, in turn, had an outlet into the Sound a mile east of Wonder Head. + +If anybody ever haunted it with hostile designs upon its fishy +denizens, Austin at least never did. Belted kingfisher, heron, mink, and +perhaps a furtive small boy with pole and sinker and barnyard +worm--these were the only foes the trout might dread. As for a man and a +fly-rod, they knew him not, nor was there much chance for casting a +line, because the water everywhere flowed under weeds, arched thickets +of brier and grass, and leafy branches criss-crossed above. + +"This place is impossible," said Selwyn scornfully. "What is Austin +about to let it all grow up and run wild--" + +"You _said_," observed Eileen, "that you preferred an untrimmed +wilderness; didn't you?" + +He laughed and reeled in his line until only six inches of the gossamer +leader remained free. From this dangled a single silver-bodied fly, +glittering in the wind. + +"There's a likely pool hidden under those briers," he said; "I'm going +to poke the tip of my rod under--this way--Hah!" as a heavy splash +sounded from depths unseen and the reel screamed as he struck. + +Up and down, under banks and over shallows rushed the invisible fish; +and Selwyn could do nothing for a while but let him go when he insisted, +and check and recover when the fish permitted. + +Eileen, a spray of green mint between her vivid lips, watched the +performance with growing interest; but when at length a big, fat, +struggling speckled trout was cautiously but successfully lifted out +into the grass, she turned her back until the gallant fighter had +departed this life under a merciful whack from a stick. + +"That," she said faintly, "is the part I don't care for. . . . Is he out +of all pain? . . . What? Didn't feel any? Oh, are you quite sure?" + +[Illustration: "Eileen watched the performance with growing +interest."] + +She walked over to him and looked down at the beautiful victim of craft. + +"Oh, well," she sighed, "you are very clever, of course, and I suppose +I'll eat him; but I wish he were alive again, down there in those cool, +sweet depths." + +"Killing frogs and insects and his smaller brother fish?" + +"Did he do _that_?" + +"No doubt of it. And if I hadn't landed him, a heron or a mink would +have done it sooner or later. That's what a trout is for: to kill and be +killed." + +She smiled, then sighed. The taking of life and the giving of it were +mysteries to her. She had never wittingly killed anything. + +"Do you say that it doesn't hurt the trout?" she asked. + +"There are no nerves in the jaw muscles of a trout--Hah!" as his rod +twitched and swerved under water and his reel sang again. + +And again she watched the performance, and once more turned her back. + +"Let me try," she said, when the _coup-de-grace_ had been administered +to a lusty, brilliant-tinted bulltrout. And, rod in hand, she bent +breathless and intent over the bushes, cautiously thrusting the tip +through a thicket of mint. + +She lost two fish, then hooked a third--a small one; but when she lifted +it gasping into the sunlight, she shivered and called to Selwyn: + +"Unhook it and throw it back! I--I simply can't stand that!" + +Splash! went the astonished trout; and she sighed her relief. + +"There's no doubt about it," she said, "you and I certainly do belong +to different species of the same genus; men and women _are_ separate +species. Do you deny it?" + +"I should hate to lose you that way," he returned teasingly. + +"Well, you can't avoid it. I gladly admit that woman is not too closely +related to man. We don't like to kill things; it's an ingrained +distaste, not merely a matter of ethical philosophy. You like to kill; +and it's a trait common also to children and other predatory animals. +Which fact," she added airily, "convinces me of woman's higher +civilisation." + +"It would convince me, too," he said, "if woman didn't eat the things +that man kills for her." + +"I know; isn't it horrid! Oh, dear, we're neither of us very high in the +scale yet--particularly you." + +"Well, I've advanced some since the good old days when a man went wooing +with a club," he suggested. + +"_You_ may have. But, anyway, you don't go wooing. As for man +collectively, he has not progressed so very far," she added demurely. +"As an example, that dreadful Draymore man actually hurt my wrist." + +Selwyn looked up quickly, a shade of frank annoyance on his face and a +vision of the fat sybarite before his eyes. He turned again to his +fishing, but his shrug was more of a shudder than appeared to be +complimentary to Percy Draymore. + +She had divined, somehow, that it annoyed Selwyn to know that men had +importuned her. She had told him of her experience as innocently as she +had told Nina, and with even less embarrassment. But that had been long +ago; and now, without any specific reason, she was not certain that she +had acted wisely, although it always amused her to see Selwyn's +undisguised impatience whenever mention was made of such incidents. + +So, to torment him, she said: "Of course it is somewhat exciting to be +asked to marry people--rather agreeable than otherwise--" + +"What!" + +Waist deep in bay-bushes he turned toward her where she sat on the trunk +of an oak which had fallen across the stream. Her arms balanced her +body; her ankles were interlocked. She swung her slim russet-shod feet +above the brook and looked at him with a touch of _gaminerie_ new to her +and to him. + +"Of course it's amusing to be told you are the only woman in the world," +she said, "particularly when a girl has a secret fear that men don't +consider her quite grown up." + +"You once said," he began impatiently, "that the idiotic importunities +of those men annoyed you." + +"Why do you call them idiotic?"--with pretence of hurt surprise. "A girl +is honoured--" + +"Oh, bosh!" + +"Captain Selwyn!" + +"I beg your pardon," he said sulkily; and fumbled with his reel. + +She surveyed him, head a trifle on one side--the very incarnation of +youthful malice in process of satisfying a desire for tormenting. Never +before had she experienced that desire so keenly, so unreasoningly; +never before had she found such a curious pleasure in punishing without +cause. A perfectly inexplicable exhilaration possessed her--a gaiety +quite reasonless, until every pulse in her seemed singing with laughter +and quickening with the desire for his torment. + +"When I pretended I was annoyed by what men said to me, I was only a +yearling," she observed. "Now I'm a two-year, Captain Selwyn. . . . Who +can tell what may happen in my second season?" + +"You said that you were _not_ the--the marrying sort," he insisted. + +"Nonsense. All girls are. Once I sat in a high chair and wore a bib and +banqueted on cambric-tea and prunes. I don't do it now; I've advanced. +It's probably part of that progress which you are so opposed to." + +He did not answer, but stood, head bent, looping on a new leader. + +"All progress is admirable," she suggested. + +No answer. + +So, to goad him: + +"There _are_ men," she said dreamily, "who might hope for a kinder +reception next winter--" + +"Oh, no," he said coolly, "there are no such gentlemen. If there were +you wouldn't say so." + +"Yes, I would. And there are!" + +"How many?" jeeringly, and now quite reassured. + +"One!" + +"You can't frighten me"--with a shade less confidence. "You wouldn't +tell if there was." + +"I'd tell _you_." + +"Me?"--with a sudden slump in his remaining stock of reassurance. + +"Certainly. I tell you and Nina things of that sort. And when I have +fully decided to marry I shall, of course, tell you both before I inform +other people." + +How the blood in her young veins was racing and singing with laughter! +How thoroughly she was enjoying something to which she could give +neither reason nor name! But how satisfying it all was--whatever it was +that amused her in this man's uncertainty, and in the faint traces of an +irritation as unreasoning as the source of it! + +"Really, Captain Selwyn," she said, "you are not one of those +old-fashioned literary landmarks who objects through several chapters to +a girl's marrying--are you?" + +"Yes," he said, "I am." + +"You are quite serious?" + +"Quite." + +"You won't _let_ me?" + +"No, I won't." + +"Why?" + +"I want you myself," he said, smiling at last. + +"That is flattering but horridly selfish. In other words you won't marry +me and you won't let anybody else do it." + +"That is the situation," he admitted, freeing his line and trying to +catch the crinkled silvery snell of the new leader. It persistently +avoided him; he lowered the rod toward Miss Erroll; she gingerly +imprisoned the feathered fly between pink-tipped thumb and forefinger +and looked questioningly at him. + +"Am I to sit here holding this?" she inquired. + +"Only a moment; I'll have to soak that leader. Is the water visible +under that log you're sitting on?" + +She nodded. + +So he made his way through the brush toward her, mounted the log, and, +seating himself beside her, legs dangling, thrust the rod tip and leader +straight down into the stream below. + +Glancing around at her he caught her eyes, bright with mischief. + +"You're capable of anything to-day," he said. "Were you considering the +advisability of starting me overboard?" And he nodded toward the water +beneath their feet. + +"But you say that you won't let me throw you overboard, Captain Selwyn!" + +"I mean it, too," he returned. + +"And I'm not to marry that nice young man?"--mockingly sweet. "No? +What!--not anybody at all--ever and ever?" + +"Me," he suggested, "if you're as thoroughly demoralised as that." + +"Oh! Must a girl be pretty thoroughly demoralised to marry you?" + +"I don't suppose she'd do it if she wasn't," he admitted, laughing. + +She considered him, head on one side: + +"You are ornamental, anyway," she concluded. + +"Well, then," he said, lifting the leader from the water to inspect it, +"will you have me?" + +"Oh, but is there nothing to recommend you except your fatal beauty?" + +"My moustache," he ventured; "it's considered very useful when I'm +mentally perplexed." + +"It's clipped too close; I have told you again and again that I don't +care for it clipped like that. Your mind would be a perfect blank if you +couldn't get hold of it." + +"And to become imbecile," he said, "I've only to shave it." + +She threw back her head and her clear laughter thrilled the silence. He +laughed, too, and sat with elbows on his thighs, dabbling the crinkled +leader to and fro in the pool below. + +"So you won't have me?" he said. + +"You haven't asked me--have you?" + +"Well, I do now." + +She mused, the smile resting lightly on lips and eyes. + +"_Wouldn't_ such a thing astonish Nina!" she said. + +He did not answer; a slight colour tinged the new sunburn on his cheeks. + +She laughed to herself, clasped her hands, crossed her slender feet, and +bent her eyes on the pool below. + +"Marriage," she said, pursuing her thoughts aloud, "is curiously +unnecessary to happiness. Take our pleasure in each other, for example. +It has, from the beginning, been perfectly free from silliness and +sentiment." + +"Naturally," he said. "I'm old enough to be safe." + +"You are not!" she retorted. "What a ridiculous thing to say!" + +"Well, then," he said, "I'm dreadfully unsafe, but yet you've managed to +escape. Is that it?" + +"Perhaps. You _are_ attractive to women! I've heard that often enough to +be convinced. Why, even I can see what attracts them"--she turned to +look at him--"the way your head and shoulders set--and--well, the--rest. +. . . It's rather superior of me to have escaped sentiment, don't you +think so?" + +"Indeed I do. Few--few escape where many meet to worship at my frisky +feet, and this I say without conceit is due to my mustachios. Tangled in +those like web-tied flies, imprisoned hearts complain in sighs--in fact, +the situation vies with moments in Boccaccio." + +Her running comment was her laughter, ringing deliciously amid the trees +until a wild bird, restlessly attentive, ventured a long, sweet response +from the tangled green above them. + +After their laughter the soberness of reaction left them silent for a +while. The wild bird sang and sang, dropping fearlessly nearer from +branch to branch, until in his melody she found the key to her dreamy +thoughts. + +"Because," she said, "you are so unconscious of your own value, I like +you best, I think. I never before quite realised just what it was in +you." + +"My value," he said, "is what you care to make it." + +"Then nobody can afford to take you away from me, Captain Selwyn." + +He flushed with pleasure: "That is the prettiest thing a woman ever +admitted to a man," he said. + +"You have said nicer things to me. That is your reward. I wonder if you +remember any of the nice things you say to me? Oh, don't look so hurt +and astonished--because I don't believe you do. . . . Isn't it jolly to +sit here and let life drift past us? Out there in the world"--she nodded +backward toward the open--"out yonder all that 'progress' is whirling +around the world, and here we sit--just you and I--quite happily, +swinging our feet in perfect content and talking nonsense. . . . What +more is there after all than a companionship that admits both sense and +nonsense?" + +She laughed, turning her chin on her shoulder to glance at him; and when +the laugh had died out she still sat lightly poised, chin nestling in +the hollow of her shoulder, considering him out of friendly beautiful +eyes in which no mockery remained. + +"What more is there than our confidence in each other and our content?" +she said. + +And, as he did not respond: "I wonder if you realise how perfectly +lovely you have been to me since you have come into my life? Do you? Do +you remember the first day--the very first--how I sent word to you that +I wished you to see my first real dinner gown? Smile if you wish--Ah, +but you don't, you _don't_ understand, my poor friend, how much you +became to me in that little interview. . . . Men's kindness is a strange +thing; they may try and try, and a girl may know they are trying and, in +her turn, try to be grateful. But it is all effort on both sides. +Then--with a word--an impulse born of chance or instinct--a man may say +and do that which a woman can never forget--and would not if she could." + +"Have I done--that?" + +"Yes. Didn't you understand? Do you suppose any other man in the world +could have what you have had of me--of my real self? Do you suppose for +one instant that any other man than you could ever obtain from me the +confidence I offer you unasked? Do I not tell you everything that enters +my head and heart? Do you not know that I care for you more than for +anybody alive?" + +"Gerald--" + +She looked him straight in the eyes; her breath caught, but she steadied +her voice: + +"I've got to be truthful," she said; "I care for you more than for +Gerald." + +"And I for you more than anybody living," he said. + +"Is it true?" + +"It is the truth, Eileen." + +"You--you make me very happy, Captain Selwyn." + +"But--did you not know it before I told you?" + +"I--y-yes; I hoped so." In the exultant reaction from the delicious +tension of avowal she laughed lightly, not knowing why. + +"The pleasure in it," she said, "is the certainty that I am capable of +making you happy. You have no idea how I desire to do it. I've wanted to +ever since I knew you--I've wanted to be capable of doing it. And you +tell me that I do; and I am utterly and foolishly happy." The quick +mischievous sparkle of _gaminerie_ flashed up, transforming her for an +instant--"Ah, yes; and I can make you unhappy, too, it seems, by talking +of marriage! That, too, is something--a delightful power--but"--the +malice dying to a spark in her brilliant eyes--"I shall not torment +you, Captain Selwyn. Will it make you happier if I say, 'No; I shall +never marry as long as I have you'? Will it really? Then I say it; +never, never will I marry as long as I have your confidence and +friendship. . . . But I want it _all_!--every bit, please. And if ever +there is another woman--if ever you fall in love!--crack!--away I +go"--she snapped her white fingers--"like that!" she added, "only +quicker! Well, then! Be very, very careful, my friend! . . . I wish +there were some place here where I could curl up indefinitely and listen +to your views on life. You brought a book to read, didn't you?" + +He gave her a funny embarrassed glance: "Yes; I brought a sort of a +book." + +"Then I'm all ready to be read to, thank you. . . . Please steady me +while I try to stand up on this log--one hand will do--" + +Scarcely in contact with him she crossed the log, sprang blithely to the +ground, and, lifting the hem of her summer gown an inch or two, picked +her way toward the bank above. + +"We can see Nina when she signals us from the lawn to come to luncheon," +she said, gazing out across the upland toward the silvery tinted +hillside where Silverside stood, every pane glittering with the white +eastern sunlight. + +In the dry, sweet grass she found a place for a nest, and settled into +it, head prone on a heap of scented bay leaves, elbows skyward, and +fingers linked across her chin. One foot was hidden, the knee, doubled, +making a tent of her white skirt, from an edge of which a russet shoe +projected, revealing the contour of a slim ankle. + +"What book did you bring?" she asked dreamily. + +He turned red: "It's--it's just a chapter from a little book I'm trying +to write--a--a sort of suggestion for the establishment of native +regiments in the Philippines. I thought, perhaps, you might not mind +listening--" + +Her delighted surprise and quick cordiality quite overwhelmed him, so, +sitting flat on the grass, hat off and the hill wind furrowing his +bright crisp hair, he began, naively, like a schoolboy; and Eileen lay +watching him, touched and amused at his eager interest in reading aloud +to her this mass of co-ordinated fact and detail. + +There was, in her, one quality to which he had never appealed in +vain--her loyalty. Confident of that, and of her intelligence, he wasted +no words in preliminary explanation, but began at once his argument in +favour of a native military establishment erected on the general lines +of the British organisation in India. + +He wrote simply and without self-consciousness; loyalty aroused her +interest, intelligence sustained it; and when the end came, it came too +quickly for her, and she said so frankly, which delighted him. + +At her invitation he outlined for her the succeeding chapters with terse +military accuracy; and what she liked best and best understood was +avoidance of that false modesty which condescends, turning technicality +into pabulum. + +Lying there in the fragrant verdure, blue eyes skyward or slanting +sideways to watch his face, she listened, answered, questioned, or +responded by turns; until their voices grew lazy and the light reaction +from things serious awakened the gaiety always latent when they were +together. + +"Proceed," she smiled; "_Arma virumque_--a noble theme, Captain Selwyn. +Sing on!" + +He shook his head, quoting from "The Dedication": + + "Arms and the Man! + A noble theme I ween! + Alas! I cannot sing of these, Eileen; + Only of maids and men and meadow-grass, + Of sea and tree and woodlands where I pass-- + Nothing but these I know, Eileen--alas! + + * * * * * + + Clear eyes, that lifted up to me + Free heart and soul of vanity; + Blue eyes, that speak so wistfully-- + Nothing but these I know, alas!" + +She laughed her acknowledgment, and lying there, face to the sky, began +to sing to herself, under her breath, fragments of that ancient +war-song: + + "Le bon Roi Dagobert + Avait un grand sabre de fer; + Le grand Saint Eloi + Lui dit: 'O mon Roi + Votre Majeste + Pourrait se blesser!' + 'C'est vrai,' lui dit le Roi, + 'Qu'on me donne un sabre de bois!'" + +"In that verse," observed Selwyn, smiling, "lies the true key to the +millennium--international disarmament and moral suasion." + +"Nonsense," she said lazily; "the millennium will arrive when the false +balance between man and woman is properly adjusted--not before. And that +means universal education. . . . Did you ever hear that old, old song, +written two centuries ago--the 'Education of Phyllis'? No? Listen then +and be ashamed." + +And lying there, the back of one hand above her eyes, she sang in a +sweet, childish, mocking voice, tremulous with hidden laughter, the song +of Phyllis the shepherdess and Sylvandre the shepherd--how Phyllis, more +avaricious than sentimental, made Sylvandre pay her thirty sheep for one +kiss; how, next day, the price shifted to one sheep for thirty kisses; +and then the dreadful demoralisation of Phyllis: + + "Le lendemain, Philis, plus tendre + Fut trop heureuse de lui rendre + Trente moutons pour un baiser! + + * * * * * + + Le lendemain, Philis, peu sage, + Aurait donne moutons et chien + Pour un baiser que le volage + A Lisette donnait pour rien!" + +"And there we are," said Eileen, sitting up abruptly and levelling the +pink-tipped finger of accusation at him--"_there_, if you please, lies +the woe of the world--not in the armaments of nations! That old French +poet understood in half a second more than your Hague tribunal could +comprehend in its first Cathayan cycle! There lies the hope of your +millennium--in the higher education of the modern Phyllis." + +"And the up-to-date Sylvandre," added Selwyn. + +"He knows too much already," she retorted, delicate nose in the +air. . . . "Hark! Ear to the ground! My atavistic and wilder instincts +warn me that somebody is coming!" + +"Boots and Drina," said Selwyn; and he hailed them as they came into +view above. Then he sprang to his feet, calling out: "And Gerald, too! +Hello, old fellow! This is perfectly fine! When did you arrive?" + +"Oh, Gerald!" cried Eileen, both hands outstretched--"it's splendid of +you to come! Dear fellow! have you seen Nina and Austin? And were they +not delighted? And you've come to stay, haven't you? There, I won't +begin to urge you. . . . Look, Gerald--look, Boots--and Drina, too--only +look at those beautiful big plump trout in Captain Selwyn's creel!" + +"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Gerald, "you didn't take those in that little +brook--did you, Philip? Well, wouldn't that snare you! I'm coming down +here after luncheon; I sure am." + +"You will, too, won't you?" asked Drina, jealous lest Boots, her idol, +miss his due share of piscatorial glory. "If you'll wait until I finish +my French I'll come with you." + +"Of course I will," said Lansing reproachfully; "you don't suppose +there's any fun anywhere for me without you, do you?" + +"No," said Drina simply, "I don't." + +"Another Phyllis in embryo," murmured Eileen to Selwyn. "Alas! for +education!" + +Selwyn laughed and turned to Gerald. "I hunted high and low for you +before I came to Silverside. You found my note?" + +"Yes; I--I'll explain later," said the boy, colouring. "Come ahead, +Eily; Boots and I will take you on at tennis--and Philip, too. We've an +hour or so before luncheon. Is it a go?" + +"Certainly," replied his sister, unaware of Selwyn's proficiency, but +loyal even in doubt. And the five, walking abreast, moved off across the +uplands toward the green lawns of Silverside, where, under a gay lawn +parasol, Nina sat, a "Nature book" in hand, the centre of an attentive +gathering composed of dogs, children, and the cat, Kit-Ki, blinking her +topaz-tinted eyes in the sunshine. + +The young mother looked up happily as the quintet came strolling across +the lawn: "Please don't wander away again before luncheon," she said; +"Gerald, I suppose you are starved, but you've only an hour to wait--Oh, +Phil! what wonderful trout! Children, kindly arise and admire the +surpassing skill of your frivolous uncle!" And, as the children and dogs +came crowding around the opened fish-basket she said to her brother in a +low, contented voice: "Gerald has quite made it up with Austin, dear; I +think we have to thank you, haven't we?" + +"Has he really squared matters with Austin? That's good--that's fine! +Oh, no, I had nothing to do with it--practically nothing. The boy is +sound at the core--that's what did it." And to Gerald, who was hailing +him from the veranda, "Yes, I've plenty of tennis-shoes. Help yourself, +old chap." + +Eileen had gone to her room to don a shorter skirt and rubber-soled +shoes; Lansing followed her example; and Selwyn, entering his own room, +found Gerald trying on a pair of white foot-gear. + +The boy looked up, smiled, and, crossing one knee, began to tie the +laces: + +"I told Austin that I meant to slow down," he said. "We're on terms +again. He was fairly decent." + +"Good business!" commented Selwyn vigorously. + +"And I'm cutting out cards and cocktails," continued the boy, eager as a +little lad who tells how good he has been all day--"I made it plain to +the fellows that there was nothing in it for me. And, Philip, I'm boning +down like thunder at the office--I'm horribly in debt and I'm hustling +to pay up and make a clean start. You," he added, colouring, "will come +first--" + +"At your convenience," said Selwyn, smiling. + +"Not at all! Yours is the first account to be squared; then Neergard--" + +"Do you owe _him_, Gerald?" + +"Do I? Oh, Lord! But he's a patient soul--really, Philip, I wish you +didn't dislike him so thoroughly, because he's good company and besides +that he's a very able man. . . . Well, we won't talk about him, then. +Come on; I'll lick the very life out of you over the net!" + +A few moments later the white balls were flying over the white net, and +active white-flannelled figures were moving swiftly over the velvet +turf. + +Drina, aloft on the umpire's perch, calmly scored and decided each point +impartially, though her little heart was beating fast in desire for her +idol's supremacy; and it was all her official composure could endure to +see how Eileen at the net beat down his defence, driving him with her +volleys to the service line. + +Selwyn's game proved to be steady, old-fashioned, but logical; Eileen, +sleeves at her elbows, red-gold hair in splendid disorder, carried the +game through Boots straight at her brother--and the contest was really a +brilliant duel between them, Lansing and Selwyn assisting when a rare +chance came their way. The pace was too fast for them, however; they +were in a different class and they knew it; and after two terrific sets +had gone against Gerald and Boots, the latter, signalling Selwyn, +dropped out and climbed up beside Drina to watch a furious single +between Eileen and Gerald. + +"Oh, Boots, Boots!" said Drina, "why _didn't_ you stay forward and kill +her drives and make her lob? I just know you could do it if you had only +thought to play forward! What on earth was the matter?" + +"Age," said Mr. Lansing serenely--"decrepitude, Drina. I am a Was, +sweetheart, but Eileen still remains an Is." + +"I won't let you say it! You are _not_ a Was!" said the child fiercely. +"After luncheon you can take me on for practice. Then you can just give +it to her!" + +"It would gratify me to hand a few swift ones to somebody," he said. +"Look at that demon girl, yonder! She's hammering Gerald to the service +line! Oh, my, oh, me! I'm only fit for hat-ball with Billy or +cat's-cradle with Kit-Ki. Drina, do you realise that I am nearly +thirty?" + +"Pooh! I'm past thirteen. In five years I'll be eighteen. I expect to +marry you at eighteen. You promised." + +"Sure thing," admitted Boots; "I've bought the house, you know." + +"I know it," said the child gravely. + +Boots looked down at her; she smiled and laid her head, with its +clustering curls, against his shoulder, watching the game below with the +quiet composure of possession. + +Their relations, hers and Lansing's, afforded infinite amusement to the +Gerards. It had been a desperate case from the very first; and the child +took it so seriously, and considered her claim on Boots so absolute, +that neither that young man nor anybody else dared make a jest of the +affair within her hearing. + +From a dimple-kneed, despotic, strenuous youngster, ruling the nursery +with a small hand of iron, in half a year Drina had grown into a rather +slim, long-legged, coolly active child; and though her hair had not been +put up, her skirts had been lowered, and shoes and stockings substituted +for half-hose and sandals. + +Weighted with this new dignity she had put away dolls, officially. +Unofficially she still dressed, caressed, forgave, or spanked Rosalinda +and Beatrice--but she excluded the younger children from the nursery +when she did it. + +However, the inborn necessity for mimicry and romance remained; and she +satisfied it by writing stories--marvellous ones--which she read to +Boots. Otherwise she was the same active, sociable, wholesome, +intelligent child, charmingly casual and inconsistent; and the list of +her youthful admirers at dancing-school and parties required the +alphabetical classification of Mr. Lansing. + +But Boots was her own particular possession; he was her chattel, her +thing; and he and other people knew that it was no light affair to +meddle with the personal property of Drina Gerard. + +Her curly head resting against his arm, she was now planning his future +movements for the day: + +"You may do what you please while I'm having French," she said +graciously; "after that we will go fishing in Brier Water; then I'll +come home to practice, while you sit on the veranda and listen; then +I'll take you on at tennis, and by that time the horses will be brought +around and we'll ride to the Falcon. You won't forget any of this, will +you? Come on; Eileen and Gerald have finished and there's Dawson to +announce luncheon!" And to Gerald, as she climbed down to the ground: +"Oh, what a muff! to let Eileen beat you six--five, six--three! . . . +Where's my hat? . . . Oh, the dogs have got it and are tearing it to +rags!" + +And she dashed in among the dogs, slapping right and left, while a +facetious dachshund seized the tattered bit of lace and muslin and fled +at top speed. + +"That is pleasant," observed Nina; "it's her best hat, too--worn to-day +in your honour, Boots. . . . Children! Hands and faces! There is Bridget +waiting! Come, Phil; there's no law against talking at table, and +there's no use trying to run an establishment if you make a mockery of +the kitchen." + +Eileen, one bare arm around her brother's shoulders, strolled houseward +across the lawn, switching the shaven sod with her tennis-bat. + +"What are you doing this afternoon?" she said to Selwyn. "Gerald"--she +touched her brother's smooth cheek--"means to fish; Boots and Drina are +keen on it, too; and Nina is driving to Wyossett with the children." + +"And you?" he asked, smiling. + +"Whatever you wish"--confident that he wanted her, whatever he had on +hand. + +"I ought to walk over to Storm Head," he said, "and get things +straightened out." + +"Your laboratory?" asked Gerald. "Austin told me when I saw him in town +that you were going to have the cottage on Storm Head to make powder +in." + +"Only in minute quantities, Gerald," explained Selwyn; "I just want to +try a few things. . . . And if they turn out all right, what do you say +to taking a look in--if Austin approves?" + +"Oh, please, Gerald," whispered his sister. + +"Do you really believe there is anything in it?" asked the boy. +"Because, if you are sure--" + +"There certainly is if I can prove that my powder is able to resist +heat, cold, and moisture. The Lawn people stand ready to talk matters +over as soon as I am satisfied. . . . There's plenty of time--but keep +the suggestion in the back of your head, Gerald." + +The boy smiled, nodded importantly, and went off to remove the stains of +tennis from his person; and Eileen went, too, turning around to look +back at Selwyn: + +"Thank you for asking Gerald! I'm sure he will love to go into anything +you think safe." + +"Will you join us, too?" he called back, smilingly--"we may need +capital!" + +"I'll remember that!" she said; and, turning once more as she reached +the landing: "Good-bye--until luncheon!" And touched her lips with the +tips of her fingers, flinging him a gay salute. + +In parting and meeting--even after the briefest of intervals--it was +always the same with her; always she had for him some informal hint of +the formality of parting; always some recognition of their meeting--in +the light touching of hands as though the symbol of ceremony, at least, +was due to him, to herself, and to the occasion. + +Luncheon at Silverside was anything but a function--with the children at +table and the dogs in a semicircle, and the nurses tying bibs and +admonishing the restless or belligerent, and the wide French windows +open, and the sea wind lifting the curtains and stirring the cluster of +wild flowers in the centre of the table. + +Kit-Ki's voice was gently raised at intervals; at intervals some +grinning puppy, unable to longer endure the nourishing odours, lost +self-control and yapped, then lowered his head, momentarily overcome +with mortification. + +All the children talked continuously, unlimited conversation being +permitted until it led to hostilities or puppy-play. The elders +conducted such social intercourse as was possible under the conditions, +but luncheon was the children's hour at Silverside. + +Nina and Eileen talked garden talk--they both were quite mad about their +fruit-trees and flower-beds; Selwyn, Gerald, and Boots discussed +stables, golf links, and finally the new business which Selwyn hoped to +develop. + +Afterward, when the children had been excused, and Drina had pulled her +chair close to Lansing's to listen--and after that, on the veranda, +when the men sat smoking and Drina was talking French, and Nina and +Eileen had gone off with baskets, trowels, and pruning-shears--Selwyn +still continued in conference with Boots and Gerald; and it was plain +that his concise, modest explanation of what he had accomplished in his +experiments with Chaosite seriously impressed the other men. + +Boots frankly admitted it: "Besides," he said, "if the Lawn people are +so anxious for you to give them first say in the matter I don't see why +we shouldn't have faith in it--enough, I mean, to be good to ourselves +by offering to be good to you, Phil." + +"Wait until Austin comes down--and until I've tried one or two new +ideas," said Selwyn. "Nothing on earth would finish me quicker than to +get anybody who trusted me into a worthless thing." + +"It's plain," observed Boots, "that although you may have been an army +captain you're no captain of industry--you're not even a non-com.!" + +Selwyn laughed: "Do you really believe that ordinary decency is +uncommon?" + +"Look at Long Island," returned Boots. "Where does the boom of worthless +acreage and paper cities land investors when it explodes?" + +Gerald had flushed up at the turn in the conversation; and Selwyn +steered Lansing into other and safer channels until Gerald went away to +find a rod. + +And, as Drina had finished her French lesson, she and Lansing presently +departed, brandishing fishing-rods adorned with the gaudiest of flies. + + * * * * * + +The house and garden at Silverside seemed to be logical parts of a +landscape, which included uplands, headlands, sky, and water--a silvery +harmonious ensemble, where the artificial portion was neither +officiously intrusive nor, on the other hand, meagre and insignificant. + +The house, a long two-storied affair with white shutters and pillared +veranda, was built of gray stone; the garden was walled with it--a +precaution against no rougher intruder than the wind, which would have +whipped unsheltered flowers and fruit-trees into ribbons. + +Walks of hardened earth, to which green mould clung in patches, wound +through the grounds and threaded the three little groves of oak, +chestnut, and locust, in the centres of which, set in circular lawns, +were the three axes of interest--the stone-edged fish-pond, the spouting +fountain, and the ancient ship's figurehead--a wind-worn, sea-battered +mermaid cuddling a tiny, finny sea-child between breast and lips. + +Whoever the unknown wood-carver had been he had been an artist, too, and +a good one; and when the big China trader, the _First Born_, went to +pieces off Frigate Light, fifty years ago, this figurehead had been cast +up from the sea. + +Wandering into the garden, following the first path at random, Selwyn +chanced upon it, and stood, pipe in his mouth, hands in his pockets, +surprised and charmed. + +Plunkitt, the head gardener, came along, trundling a mowing-machine. + +"Ain't it kind 'er nice," he said, lingering. "When I pass here +moonlight nights, it seems like that baby was a-smilin' right up into +his mamma's face, an' that there fish-tailed girl was laughin' back at +him. Come here some night when there's a moon, Cap'in Selwyn." + +Selwyn stood for a while listening to the musical click of the machine, +watching the green shower flying into the sunshine, and enjoying the raw +perfume of juicy, new-cut grass; then he wandered on in quest of Miss +Erroll. + +Tulips, narcissus, hyacinths, and other bulbs were entirely out of +bloom, but the earlier herbaceous borders had come into flower, and he +passed through masses of pink and ivory-tinted peonies--huge, heavy, +double blossoms, fragrant and delicate as roses. Patches of late iris +still lifted crested heads above pale sword-bladed leaves; sheets of +golden pansies gilded spaces steeped in warm transparent shade, but +larkspur and early rocket were as yet only scarcely budded promises; the +phlox-beds but green carpets; and zinnia, calendula, poppy, and +coreopsis were symphonies in shades of green against the dropping pink +of bleeding-hearts or the nascent azure of flax and spiderwort. + +In the rose garden, and along that section of the wall included in it, +the rich, dry, porous soil glimmered like gold under the sun; and here +Selwyn discovered Nina and Eileen busily solicitous over the tender +shoots of favourite bushes. A few long-stemmed early rosebuds lay in +their baskets; Selwyn drew one through his buttonhole and sat down on a +wheelbarrow, amiably disposed to look on and let the others work. + +"Not much!" said Nina. "You can start in and 'pinch back' this prairie +climber--do you hear, Phil? I won't let you dawdle around and yawn while +I'm pricking my fingers every instant! Make him move, Eileen." + +Eileen came over to him, fingers doubled into her palm and small thumb +extended. + +"Thorns and prickles, please," she said; and he took her hand in his and +proceeded to extract them while she looked down at her almost invisible +wounds, tenderly amused at his fear of hurting her. + +"Do you know," she said, "that people are beginning to open their houses +yonder?" She nodded toward the west: "The Minsters are on the way to +Brookminster, the Orchils have already arrived at Hitherwood House, and +the coachmen and horses were housed at Southlawn last night. I rather +dread the dinners and country formality that always interfere with the +jolly times we have; but it will be rather good fun at the +bathing-beach. . . . Do you swim well? But of course you do." + +"Pretty well; do you?" + +"I'm a fish. Gladys Orchil and I would never leave the surf if they +didn't literally drag us home. . . . You know Gladys Orchil? . . . She's +very nice; so is Sheila Minster; you'll like her better in the country +than you do in town. Kathleen Lawn is nice, too. Alas! I see many a +morning where Drina and I twirl our respective thumbs while you and +Boots are off with a gayer set. . . . Oh, don't interrupt! No mortal man +is proof against Sheila and Gladys and Kathleen--and you're not a +demi-god--are you? . . . Thank you for your surgery upon my thumb--" She +naively placed the tip of it between her lips and looked at him, +standing there like a schoolgirl in her fresh gown, burnished hair +loosened and curling in riotous beauty across cheeks and ears. + +He had seated himself on the wheelbarrow again; she stood looking down +at him, hands now bracketed on her narrow hips--so close that the fresh +fragrance of her grew faintly perceptible--a delicate atmosphere of +youth mingling with the perfume of the young garden. + +Nina, basket on her arm, snipping away with her garden shears, glanced +over her shoulder--and went on, snipping. They did not notice how far +away her agricultural ardour led her--did not notice when she stood a +moment at the gate looking back at them, or when she passed out, pretty +head bent thoughtfully, the shears swinging loose at her girdle. + +The prairie rosebuds in Eileen's basket exhaled their wild, sweet odour; +and Selwyn, breathing it, removed his hat like one who faces a cooling +breeze, and looked up at the young girl standing before him as though +she were the source of all things sweet and freshening in this opening +of the youngest year of his life. + +She said, smiling absently at his question: "Certainly one can grow +younger; and you have done it in a day, here with me." + +She looked down at his hair; it was bright and inclined to wave a +little, but whether the lighter colour at the temples was really +silvered or only a paler tint she was not sure. + +"You are very like a boy, sometimes," she said--"as young as Gerald, I +often think--especially when your hat is off. You always look so +perfectly groomed: I wonder--I wonder what you would look like if your +hair were rumpled?" + +"Try it," he suggested lazily. + +"I? I don't think I dare--" She raised her hand, hesitated, the gay +daring in her eyes deepening to audacity. "Shall I?" + +"Why not?" + +"T-touch your hair?--rumple it?--as I would Gerald's! . . . I'm tempted +to--only--only--" + +"What?" + +"I don't know; I couldn't. I--it was only the temptation of a second--" +She laughed uncertainly. The suggestion of the intimacy tinted her +cheeks with its reaction; she took a short step backward; instinct, +blindly stirring, sobered her; and as the smile faded from eye and lip, +his face changed, too. And far, very far away in the silent cells of his +heart a distant pulse awoke. + +She turned to her roses again, moving at random among the bushes, +disciplining with middle-finger and thumb a translucent, amber-tinted +shoot here and there. And when the silence had lasted too long, she +broke it without turning toward him: + +"After all, if it were left to me, I had rather be merciful to these +soft little buds and sprays, and let the sun and the showers take +charge. A whole cluster of blossoms left free to grow as Fate fashions +them!--Why not? It is certainly very officious of me to strip a stem of +its hopes just for the sake of one pampered blossom. . . . +Non-interference is a safe creed, isn't it?" + +But she continued moving along among the bushes, pinching back here, +snipping, trimming, clipping there; and after a while she had wandered +quite beyond speaking distance; and, at leisurely intervals she +straightened up and turned to look back across the roses at him--quiet, +unsmiling gaze in exchange for his unchanging eyes, which never left +her. + +She was at the farther edge of the rose garden now where a boy knelt, +weeding; and Selwyn saw her speak to him and give him her basket and +shears; and saw the boy start away toward the house, leaving her leaning +idly above the sun-dial, elbows on the weather-beaten stone, studying +the carved figures of the dial. And every line and contour and curve of +her figure--even the lowered head, now resting between both +hands--summoned him. + +She heard his step, but did not move; and when he leaned above the dial, +resting on his elbows, beside her, she laid her finger on the shadow of +the dial. + +"Time," she said, "is trying to frighten me. It pretends to be nearly +five o'clock; do you believe it?" + +"Time is running very fast with me," he said. + +"With me, too; I don't wish it to; I don't care for third speed forward +all the time." + +He was bending closer above the stone dial, striving to decipher the +inscription on it: + + "Under blue skies + My shadow lies. + Under gray skies + My shadow dies. + + "If over me + Two Lovers leaning + Would solve my Mystery + And read my Meaning, + --Or clear, or overcast the Skies-- + The Answer always lies within their Eyes. + Look long! Look long! For there, and there alone + Time solves the Riddle graven on this Stone!" + +Elbows almost touching they leaned at ease, idly reading the almost +obliterated lines engraved there. + +"I never understood it," she observed, lightly scornful. "What occult +meaning has a sun-dial for the spooney? _I'm_ sure I don't want to read +riddles in a strange gentleman's optics." + +"The verses," he explained, "are evidently addressed to the spooney, so +why should you resent them?" + +"I don't. . . . I can be spoons, too, for that matter; I mean I could +once." + +"But you're past spooning now," he concluded. + +"Am I? I rather resent your saying it--your calmly excluding me from +anything I might choose to do," she said. "If I cared--if I chose--if I +really wanted to--" + +"You could still spoon? Impossible! At your age? Nonsense!" + +"It isn't at all impossible. Wait until there's a moon, and a canoe, and +a nice boy who is young enough to be frightened easily!" + +"And I," he retorted, "am too old to be frightened; so there's no moon, +no canoe, no pretty girl, no spooning for me. Is that it, Eileen?" + +"Oh, Gladys and Sheila will attend to you, Captain Selwyn." + +"Why Gladys Orchil? Why Sheila Minster? And why _not_ Eileen Erroll?" + +"Spoon? With _you_!" + +"You are quite right," he said, smiling; "it would be poor sport." + +There had been no change in his amused eyes, in his voice; yet, +sensitive to the imperceptible, the girl looked up quickly. He laughed +and straightened up; and presently his eyes grew absent and his +sun-burned hand sought his moustache. + +"Have you misunderstood me?" she asked in a low voice. + +"How, child?" + +"I don't know. . . . Shall we walk a little?" + +When they came to the stone fish-pond she seated herself for a moment on +a marble bench, then, curiously restless, rose again; and again they +moved forward at hazard, past the spouting fountain, which was a driven +well, out of which a crystal column of water rose, geyser-like, dazzling +in the westering sun rays. + +"Nina tells me that this water rises in the Connecticut hills," he said, +"and flows as a subterranean sheet under the Sound, spouting up here on +Long Island when you drive a well." + +She looked at the column of flashing water, nodding silent assent. + +They moved on, the girl curiously reserved, non-communicative, head +slightly lowered; the man vague-eyed, thoughtful, pacing slowly at her +side. Behind them their long shadows trailed across the brilliant grass. + +Traversing the grove which encircled the newly clipped lawn, now +fragrant with sun-crisped grass-tips left in the wake of the mower, he +glanced up at the pretty mermaid mother cuddling her tiny offspring +against her throat. Across her face a bar of pink sunlight fell, making +its contour exquisite. + +"Plunkitt tells me that they really laugh at each other in the +moonlight," he said. + +She glanced up; then away from him: + +"You seem to be enamoured of the moonlight," she said. + +"I like to prowl in it." + +"Alone?" + +"Sometimes." + +"And--at other times?" + +He laughed: "Oh, I'm past that, as you reminded me a moment ago." + +"Then you _did_ misunderstand me!" + +"Why, no--" + +"Yes, you did! But I supposed you knew." + +"Knew what, Eileen?" "What I meant." + +"You meant that I am _hors de concours_." + +"I didn't!" + +"But I am, child. I was, long ago." + +She looked up: "Do you really think that, Captain Selwyn? If you do--I +am glad." + +He laughed outright. "You are glad that I'm safely past the spooning +age?" he inquired, moving forward. + +She halted: "Yes. Because I'm quite sure of you if you are; I mean that +I can always keep you for myself. Can't I?" + +She was smiling and her eyes were clear and fearless, but there was a +wild-rose tint on her cheeks which deepened a little as he turned short +in his tracks, gazing straight at her. + +"You wish to keep me--for yourself?" he repeated, laughing. + +"Yes, Captain Selwyn." + +"Until you marry. Is that it, Eileen?" + +"Yes, until I marry." + +"And then we'll let each other go; is that it?" + +"Yes. But I think I told you that I would never marry. Didn't I?" + +"Oh! Then ours is to be a lifelong and anti-sentimental contract!" + +"Yes, unless _you_ marry." + +"I promise not to," he said, "unless you do." + +"I promise not to," she said gaily, "unless you do." + +"There remains," he observed, "but one way for you and I ever to marry +anybody. And as I'm _hors de concours_, even that hope is ended." + +She flushed; her lips parted, but she checked what she had meant to say, +and they walked forward together in silence for a while until she had +made up her mind what to say and how to express it: + +"Captain Selwyn, there are two things that you do which seem to me +unfair. You still have, at times, that far-away, absent expression which +excludes me; and when I venture to break the silence, you have a way of +answering, 'Yes, child,' and 'No, child'--as though you were +inattentive, and I had not yet become an adult. _That_ is my first +complaint! . . . _What_ are you laughing at? It is true; and it confuses +and hurts me; because I _know_ I am intelligent enough and old enough +to--to be treated as a woman!--a woman attractive enough to be reckoned +with! But I never seem to be wholly so to you." + +The laugh died out as she ended; for a moment they stood there, +confronting one another. + +"Do you imagine," he said in a low voice, "that I do not know all that?" + +"I don't know whether you do. For all your friendship--for all your +liking and your kindness to me--somehow--I--I don't seem to stand with +you as other women do; I don't seem to stand their chances." + +"What chances?" + +"The--the consideration; you don't call any other woman 'child,' do you? +You don't constantly remind other women of the difference in your ages, +do you? You don't _feel_ with other women that you are--as you please to +call it--_hors de concours_--out of the running. And somehow, with me, +it humiliates. Because even if I--if I am the sort of a girl who never +means to marry, you--your attitude seems to take away the possibility of +my changing my mind; it dictates to me, giving me no choice, no liberty, +no personal freedom in the matter. . . . It's as though you considered +me somehow utterly out of the question--radically unthinkable as a +woman. And you assume to take for granted that I also regard you as--as +_hors de concours_. . . . Those are my grievances, Captain Selwyn. . . . +And I _don't_ regard you so. And I--and it troubles me to be +excluded--to be found wanting, inadequate in anything that a woman +should be. I know that you and I have no desire to marry each +other--but--but please don't make the reason for it either your age or +my physical immaturity or intellectual inexperience." + +Another of those weather-stained seats of Georgia marble stood embedded +under the trees near where she had halted; and she seated herself, +outwardly composed, and inwardly a little frightened at what she had +said. + +As for Selwyn, he remained where he had been standing on the lawn's +velvet edge; and, raising her eyes again, her heart misgave her that she +had wantonly strained a friendship which had been all but perfect; and +now he was moving across the path toward her--a curious look in his face +which she could not interpret. She looked up as he approached and +stretched out her hand: + +"Forgive me, Captain Selwyn," she said. "I _am_ a child--a spoiled one; +and I have proved it to you. Will you sit here beside me and tell me +very gently what a fool I am to risk straining the friendship dearest to +me in the whole world? And will you fix my penance?" + +"You have fixed it yourself," he said. + +"How?" + +"By the challenge of your womanhood." + +"I did not challenge--" + +"No; you defended. You are right. The girl I cared for--the girl who was +there with me on Brier Water--so many, many centuries ago--the girl who, +years ago, leaned there beside me on the sun-dial--has become a +memory." + +"What do you mean?" she asked faintly. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Yes." + +"You will not be unhappy if I tell you?" + +"N-no." + +"Have you any idea what I am going to say, Eileen?" + +She looked up quickly, frightened at the tremor in his voice: + +"Don't--don't say it, Captain Selwyn!" + +"Will you listen--as a penance?" + +"I--no, I cannot--" + +He said quietly: "I was afraid you could not listen. You see, Eileen, +that, after all, a man does know when he is done for--" + +"Captain Selwyn!" She turned and caught his hands in both of hers, her +eyes bright with tears: "Is that the penalty for what I said? Did you +think I invited this--" + +"Invited! No, child," he said gently. "I was fool enough to believe in +myself; that is all. I have always been on the edge of loving you. Only +in dreams did I ever dare set foot across that frontier. Now I have +dared. I love you. That is all; and it must not distress you." + +"But it does not," she said; "I have always loved you--dearly, +dearly. . . . Not in that way. . . . I don't know how. . . . Must it be +in _that_ way, Captain Selwyn? Can we not go on in the other way--that +dear way which I--I have--almost spoiled? Must we be like other +people--must sentiment turn it all to commonplace? . . . Listen to me; I +do love you; it is perfectly easy and simple to say it. But it is not +emotional, it is not sentimental. Can't you see that in little +things--in my ways with you? I--if I were sentimental about you I would +call you Ph--by your first name, I suppose. But I can't; I've tried +to--and it's very, very hard--and makes me self-conscious. It is an +effort, you see--and so would it be for me to think of you sentimentally. +Oh, I couldn't! I couldn't!--you, so much of a man, so strong and +generous and experienced and clever--so perfectly the embodiment of +everything I care for in a man! I love you dearly; but--you saw! I +could--could not bring myself to touch even your hair--even in pure +mischief. . . . And--sentiment chills me; I--there are times when it +would be unendurable--I could not use an endearing term--nor suffer a--a +caress. . . . So you see--don't you? And won't you take me for what I +am?--and as I am?--a girl--still young, devoted to you with all her +soul--happy with you, believing implicitly in you, deeply, deeply +sensible of your goodness and sweetness and loyalty to her. I am not a +woman; I was a fool to say so. But you--you are so overwhelmingly a man +that if it were in me to love--in that way--it would be you! . . . Do +you understand me? Or have I lost a friend? Will you forgive my foolish +boast? Can you still keep me first in your heart--as you are in mine? +And pardon in me all that I am not? Can you do these things because I +ask you?" + +"Yes," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A NOVICE + + +Gerald came to Silverside two or three times during the early summer, +arriving usually on Friday and remaining until the following Monday +morning. + +All his youthful admiration and friendship for Selwyn had returned; that +was plainly evident--and with it something less of callow +self-sufficiency. He did not appear to be as cock-sure of himself and +the world as he had been; there was less bumptiousness about him, less +aggressive complacency. Somewhere and somehow somebody or something had +come into collision with him; but who or what this had been he did not +offer to confide in Selwyn; and the older man, dreading to disturb the +existing accord between them, forbore to question him or invite, even +indirectly, any confidence not offered. + +Selwyn had slowly become conscious of this change in Gerald. In the +boy's manner toward others there seemed to be hints of that seriousness +which maturity or the first pressure of responsibility brings, even to +the more thoughtless. Plainly enough some experience, not wholly +agreeable, was teaching him the elements of consideration for others; he +was less impulsive, more tolerant; yet, at times, Selwyn and Eileen also +noticed that he became very restless toward the end of his visits at +Silverside; as though something in the city awaited him--some duty, or +responsibility not entirely pleasant. + +There was, too, something of soberness, amounting, at moments, to +discontented listlessness--not solitary brooding; for at such moments he +stuck to Selwyn, following him about and remaining rather close to him, +as though the elder man's mere presence was a comfort--even a +protection. + +At such intervals Selwyn longed to invite the boy's confidence, knowing +that he had some phase of life to face for which his experience was +evidently inadequate. But Gerald gave no sign of invitation; and Selwyn +dared not speak lest he undo what time and his forbearance were slowly +repairing. + +So their relations remained during the early summer; and everybody +supposed that Gerald's two weeks' vacation would be spent there at +Silverside. Apparently the boy himself thought so, too, for he made some +plans ahead, and Austin sent down a very handsome new motor-boat for +him. + +Then, at the last minute, a telegram arrived, saying that he had sailed +for Newport on Neergard's big yacht! And for two weeks no word was +received from him at Silverside. + +Late in August, however, he wrote a rather colourless letter to Selwyn, +saying that he was tired and would be down for the week-end. + +He came, thinner than usual, with the city pallor showing through traces +of the sea tan. And it appeared that he was really tired; for he seemed +inclined to lounge on the veranda, satisfied as long as Selwyn remained +in sight. But, when Selwyn moved, he got up and followed. + +So subdued, so listless, so gentle in manner and speech had he become +that somebody, in his temporary absence, wondered whether the boy were +perfectly well--which voiced the general doubt hitherto unexpressed. + +But Austin laughed and said that the boy was merely finding himself; and +everybody acquiesced, much relieved at the explanation, though to Selwyn +the explanation was not at all satisfactory. + +There was trouble somewhere, stress of doubt, pressure of apprehension, +the gravity of immaturity half realising its own inexperience. And one +day in September he wrote Gerald, asking him to bring Edgerton Lawn and +come down to Silverside for the purpose of witnessing some experiments +with the new smokeless explosive, Chaosite. + +Young Lawn came by the first train; Gerald wired that he would arrive +the following morning. + +He did arrive, unusually pallid, almost haggard; and Selwyn, who met him +at the station and drove him over from Wyossett, ventured at last to +give the boy a chance. + +But Gerald remained utterly unresponsive--stolidly so--and the other +instantly relinquished the hope of any confidence at that time--shifting +the conversation at once to the object and reason of Gerald's coming, +and gaily expressing his belief that the time was very near at hand when +Chaosite would figure heavily in the world's list of commercially +valuable explosives. + +It was early in August that Selwyn had come to the conclusion that his +Chaosite was likely to prove a commercial success. And now, in +September, his experiments had advanced so far that he had ventured to +invite Austin, Gerald, Lansing, and Edgerton Lawn, of the Lawn +Nitro-Powder Company, to witness a few tests at his cottage laboratory +on Storm Head; but at the same time he informed them with characteristic +modesty that he was not yet prepared to guarantee the explosive. + +About noon his guests arrived before the cottage in a solemn file, +halted, and did not appear overanxious to enter the laboratory on Storm +Head. Also they carefully cast away their cigars when they did enter, +and seated themselves in a nervous circle in the largest room of the +cottage. Here their eyes instantly became glued to a great bowl which +was piled high with small rose-tinted cubes of some substance which +resembled symmetrical and translucent crystals of pink quartz. That was +Chaosite enough to blow the entire cliff into smithereens; and they were +aware of it, and they eyed it with respect. + +First of all Selwyn laid a cubic crystal on an anvil, and struck it +sharply and repeatedly with a hammer. Austin's thin hair rose, and +Edgerton Lawn swallowed nothing several times; but nobody went to +heaven, and the little cube merely crumbled into a flaky pink powder. + +Then Selwyn took three cubes, dropped them into boiling milk, fished +them out again, twisted them into a waxy taper, placed it in a +candle-stick, and set fire to it. The taper burned with a flaring +brilliancy but without odour. + +Then Selwyn placed several cubes in a mortar, pounded them to powder +with an iron pestle, and, measuring out the tiniest pinch--scarcely +enough to cover the point of a penknife, placed a few grains in several +paper cartridges. Two wads followed the powder, then an ounce and a half +of shot, then a wad, and then the crimping. + +The guests stepped gratefully outside; Selwyn, using a light +fowling-piece, made pattern after pattern for them; and then they all +trooped solemnly indoors again; and Selwyn froze Chaosite and boiled it +and baked it and melted it and took all sorts of hair-raising liberties +with it; and after that he ground it to powder, placed a few generous +pinches in a small hand-grenade, and affixed a primer, the secret +composition of which he alone knew. That was the key to the secret--the +composition of the primer charge. + +"I used to play base-ball in college," he observed smiling--"and I used +to be a pretty good shot with a snowball." + +They followed him to the cliff's edge, always with great respect for the +awful stuff he handled with such apparent carelessness. There was a +black sea-soaked rock jutting out above the waves; Selwyn pointed at it, +poised himself, and, with the long, overhand, straight throw of a +trained ball player, sent the grenade like a bullet at the rock. + +There came a blinding flash, a stunning, clean-cut report--but what the +others took to be a vast column of black smoke was really a pillar of +dust--all that was left of the rock. And this slowly floated, settling +like mist over the waves, leaving nothing where the rock had been. + +"I think," said Edgerton Lawn, wiping the starting perspiration from his +forehead, "that you have made good, Captain Selwyn. Dense or bulk, your +Chaosite and impact primer seem to do the business; and I think I may +say that the Lawn Nitro-Powder Company is ready to do business, too. Can +you come to town to-morrow? It's merely a matter of figures and +signatures now, if you say so. It is entirely up to you." + +But Selwyn only laughed. He looked at Austin. + +"I suppose," said Edgerton Lawn good-naturedly, "that you intend to make +us sit up and beg; or do you mean to absorb us?" + +But Selwyn said: "I want more time on this thing. I want to know what it +does to the interior of loaded shells and in fixed ammunition when it is +stored for a year. I want to know whether it is necessary to use a +solvent after firing it in big guns. As a bursting charge I'm +practically satisfied with it; but time is required to know how it acts +on steel in storage or on the bores of guns when exploded as a +propelling charge. Meanwhile," turning to Lawn, "I'm tremendously +obliged to you for coming--and for your offer. You see how it is, don't +you? I couldn't risk taking money for a thing which might, at the end, +prove dear at any price." + +"I cheerfully accept that risk," insisted young Lawn; "I am quite ready +to do all the worrying, Captain Selwyn." + +But Selwyn merely shook his head, repeating: "You see how it is, don't +you?" + +"I see that you possess a highly developed conscience," said Edgerton +Lawn, laughing; "and when I tell you that we are more than willing to +take every chance of failure--" + +But Selwyn shook his head: "Not yet," he said; "don't worry; I need the +money, and I'll waste no time when a square deal is possible. But I +ought to tell you this: that first of all I must offer it to the +Government. That is only decent, you see--" + +"Who ever heard of the Government's gratitude?" broke in Austin. +"Nonsense, Phil; you are wasting time!" + +"I've got to do it," said Selwyn; "you must see that, of course." + +"But I don't see it," began Lawn--"because you are not in the Government +service now--" + +"Besides," added Austin, "you were not a West Pointer; you never were +under obligations to the Government!" + +"Are we not all under obligation?" asked Selwyn so simply that Austin +flushed. + +"Oh, of course--patriotism and all that--naturally--Confound it, I don't +suppose you'd go and offer it to Germany or Japan before our own +Government had the usual chance to turn it down and break your heart. +But why can't the Government make arrangements with Lawn's Company--if +it desires to?" + +"A man can't exploit his own Government; you all know that as well as I +do," returned Selwyn, smiling. "_Pro aris et focis_, you know--_ex +necessitate rei_." + +"When the inventor goes to the Government," said Austin, with a +shrug--"_vestigia nulla retrorsum_." + +"_Spero meliora_," retorted Selwyn, laughing; but there remained the +obstinate squareness of jaw, and his amused eyes were clear and steady. +Young Lawn looked into them and the hope in him flickered; Austin +looked, and shrugged; but as they all turned away to retrace their steps +across the moors in the direction of Silverside, Lansing lightly hooked +his arm into Selwyn's; and Gerald, walking thoughtfully on the other +side, turned over and over in his mind the proposition offered him--the +spectacle of a modern and needy man to whom money appeared to be the +last consideration in a plain matter of business. Also he turned over +other matters in his mind; and moved closer to Selwyn, walking beside +him with grave eyes bent on the ground. + + * * * * * + +The matter of business arrangements apparently ended then and there; +Lawn's company sent several men to Selwyn and wrote him a great many +letters--unlike the Government, which had not replied to his briefly +tentative suggestion that Chaosite be conditionally examined, tested, +and considered. + +So the matter remained in abeyance, and Selwyn employed two extra men +and continued storage tests and experimented with rifled and smooth-bore +tubes, watchfully uncertain yet as to the necessity of inventing a +solvent to neutralise possible corrosion after a propelling charge had +been exploded. + +Everybody in the vicinity had heard about his experiments; everybody +pretended interest, but few were sincere; and of the sincere, few were +unselfishly interested--his sister, Eileen, Drina, and Lansing--and +maybe one or two others. + +However, the younger set, now predominant from Wyossett to Wonder Head, +made up parties to visit Selwyn's cottage, which had become known as The +Chrysalis; and Selwyn good-naturedly exploded a pinch or two of the +stuff for their amusement, and never betrayed the slightest annoyance or +boredom. In fact, he behaved so amiably during gratuitous interruptions +that he won the hearts of the younger set, who presently came to the +unanimous conclusion that there was Romance in the air. And they sniffed +it with delicate noses uptilted and liked the aroma. + +Kathleen Lawn, a big, leisurely, blond-skinned girl, who showed her +teeth when she laughed and shook hands like a man, declared him +"adorable" but "unsatisfactory," which started one of the Dresden-china +twins, Dorothy Minster, and she, in turn, ventured the innocent opinion +that Selwyn was misunderstood by most people--an inference that she +herself understood him. And she smiled to herself when she made this +observation, up to her neck in the surf; and Eileen, hearing the remark, +smiled to herself, too. But she felt the slightest bit uncomfortable +when that animated brunette Gladys Orchil, climbing up dripping on to +the anchored float beyond the breakers, frankly confessed that the +tinge of mystery enveloping Selwyn's career made him not only adorable, +but agreeably "unfathomable"; and that she meant to experiment with him +at every opportunity. + +Sheila Minster, seated on the raft's edge, swinging her stockinged legs +in the green swells that swept steadily shoreward, modestly admitted +that Selwyn was "sweet," particularly in a canoe on a moonlight +night--in spite of her weighty mother heavily afloat in the vicinity. + +"He's nice every minute," she said--"every fibre of him is nice in the +nicest sense. He never talks 'down' at you--like an insufferable +undergraduate; and he is so much of a man--such a real man!--that I like +him," she added naively; "and I'm quite sure he likes me, because he +said so." + +"I like him," said Gladys Orchil, "because he has a sense of humour and +stands straight. I like a sense of humour and--good shoulders. He's an +enigma; and I like that, too. . . . I'm going to investigate him every +chance I get." + +Dorothy Minster liked him, too: "He's such a regular boy at times," she +explained; "I do love to see him without his hat sauntering along beside +me--and not talking every minute when you don't wish to talk. Friends," +she added--"true friends are most eloquent in their mutual silence. +Ahem!" + +Eileen Erroll, standing near on the pitching raft, listened intently, +but curiously enough said nothing either in praise or blame. + +"He is exactly the right age," insisted Gladys--as though somebody had +said he was not--"the age when a man is most interesting." + +The Minster twins twiddled their legs and looked sentimentally at the +ocean. They were a pair of pink and white little things with china-blue +eyes and the fairest of hair, and they were very impressionable; and +when they thought of Selwyn they looked unutterable things at the +Atlantic Ocean. + +One man, often the least suitable, is usually the unanimous choice of +the younger sort where, in the disconcerting summer time, the youthful +congregate in garrulous segregation. + +Their choice they expressed frankly and innocently; they admitted +cheerfully that Selwyn was their idol. But that gentleman remained +totally unconscious that he had been set up by them upon the shores of +the summer sea. + +In leisure moments he often came down to the bathing-beach at the hour +made fashionable; he conducted himself amiably with dowager and +chaperon, with portly father and nimble brother, with the late +debutantes of the younger set and the younger matrons, individually, +collectively, impartially. + +He and Gerald usually challenged the rollers in a sponson canoe when +Gerald was there for the week-end; or, when Lansing came down, the two +took long swims seaward or cruised about in Gerald's dory, clad in their +swimming-suits; and Selwyn's youth became renewed in a manner almost +ridiculous, so that the fine lines which had threatened the corners of +his mouth and eyes disappeared, and the clear sun tan of the tropics, +which had never wholly faded, came back over a smooth skin as clear as a +boy's, though not as smoothly rounded. His hair, too, crisped and grew +lighter under the burning sun, which revealed, at the temples, the +slightest hint of silver. And this deepened the fascination of the +younger sort for the idol they had set up upon the sands of Silverside. + +Gladys was still eloquent on the subject, lying flat on the raft where +all were now gathered in a wet row, indulging in sunshine and the two +minutes of gossip which always preceded their return swim to the beach. + +"It is partly his hair," she said gravely, "that makes him so +distinguished in his appearance--just that touch of silver; and you keep +looking and looking until you scarcely know whether it's really +beginning to turn a little gray or whether it's only a lighter colour at +the temples. How insipid is a mere boy after such a man as Captain +Selwyn! . . . I have dreamed of such a man--several times." + +The Minster twins gazed soulfully at the Atlantic; Eileen Erroll bit her +under lip and stood up suddenly. "Come on," she said; joined her hands +skyward, poised, and plunged. One after another the others followed and, +rising to the surface, struck out shoreward. + +On the sunlit sands dozens of young people were hurling tennis-balls at +each other. Above the beach, under the long pavilions, sat mothers and +chaperons. Motors, beach-carts, and victorias were still arriving to +discharge gaily dressed fashionables--for the hour was early--and up and +down the inclined wooden walk leading from the bathing-pavilion to the +sands, a constant procession of bathers passed with nod and gesture of +laughing salutation, some already retiring to the showers after a brief +ocean plunge, the majority running down to the shore, eager for the +first frosty and aromatic embrace of the surf rolling in under a +cloudless sky of blue. + +As Eileen Erroll emerged from the surf and came wading shoreward through +the seething shallows, she caught sight of Selwyn sauntering across the +sands toward the water, and halted, knee-deep, smilingly expectant, +certain that he had seen her. + +Gladys Orchil, passing her, saw Selwyn at the same moment, and her +clear, ringing salute and slender arm aloft, arrested his attention; and +the next moment they were off together, swimming toward the sponson +canoe which Gerald had just launched with the assistance of Sandon Craig +and Scott Innis. + +For a moment Eileen stood there, motionless. Knee-high the flat ebb +boiled and hissed, dragging at her stockinged feet as though to draw her +seaward with the others. Yesterday she would have gone, without a +thought, to join the others; but yesterday is yesterday. It seemed to +her, as she stood there, that something disquieting had suddenly come +into the world; something unpleasant--but indefinite--yet sufficient to +leave her vaguely apprehensive. + +The saner emotions which have their birth in reason she was not ignorant +of; emotion arising from nothing at all disconcerted her--nor could she +comprehend the slight quickening of her heart-beats as she waded to the +beach, while every receding film of water tugged at her limbs as though +to draw her backward in the wake of her unquiet thoughts. + +Somebody threw a tennis-ball at her; she caught it and hurled it in +return; and for a few minutes the white, felt-covered balls flew back +and forth from scores of graceful, eager hands. A moment or two passed +when no balls came her way; she turned and walked to the foot of a dune +and seated herself cross-legged on the hot sand. + +Sometimes she watched the ball players, sometimes she exchanged a word +of amiable commonplace with people who passed or halted to greet her. +But she invited nobody to remain, and nobody ventured to, not even +several very young and ardent gentlemen who had acquired only the +rudiments of social sense. For there was a sweet but distant look in her +dark-blue eyes and a certain reserved preoccupation in her +acknowledgment of salutations. And these kept the would-be adorer +moving--wistful, lagging, but still moving along the edge of that +invisible barrier set between her and the world with her absent-minded +greeting, and her serious, beautiful eyes fixed so steadily on a distant +white spot--the sponson canoe where Gladys and Selwyn sat, their paddle +blades flashing in the sun. + +How far away they were. . . . Gerald was with them. . . . Curious that +Selwyn had not seen her waiting for him, knee-deep in the surf--curious +that he had seen Gladys instead. . . . True, Gladys had called to him +and signalled him, white arm upflung. . . . Gladys was very pretty--with +her heavy, dark hair and melting, Spanish eyes, and her softly rounded, +olive-skinned figure. . . . Gladys had called to him, and _she_ had not. +. . . That was true; and lately--for the last few days--or perhaps +more--she herself had been a trifle less impulsive in her greeting of +Selwyn--a little less _sans-facon_ with him. . . . After all, a man +comes when it pleases him. Why should a girl call him?--unless +she--unless--unless-- + +Perplexed, her grave eyes fixed on the sea where now the white canoe +pitched nearer, she dropped both hands to the sand--those once +wonderfully white hands, now creamed with sun tan; and her arms, too, +were tinted from shoulder to finger-tip. Then she straightened her +legs, crossed her feet, and leaned a trifle forward, balancing her body +on both palms flat on the sand. The sun beat down on her; she loosened +her hair to dry it, and as she shook her delicate head the superb +red-gold mass came tumbling about her face and shoulders. Under its +glimmering splendour, and through it, she stared seaward out of wide, +preoccupied eyes; and in her breast, stirring uneasily, a pulse, +intermittent yet dully importunate, persisted. + +The canoe, drifting toward the surf, was close in, now. Gerald rose and +dived; Gladys, steadying herself by a slim hand on Selwyn's shoulder, +stood up on the bow, ready to plunge clear when the canoe capsized. + +How wonderfully pretty she was, balanced there, her hand on his +shoulder, ready for a leap, lest the heavy canoe, rolling over in the +froth, strike her under the smother of foam and water. . . . How +marvellously pretty she was. . . . Her hand on his shoulder. . . . + +Miss Erroll sat very still; but the pulse within her was not still. + +When the canoe suddenly capsized, Gladys jumped, but Selwyn went with +it, boat and man tumbling into the tumult over and over; and the usual +laughter from the onlookers rang out, and a dozen young people rushed +into the surf to right the canoe and push it out into the surf again and +clamber into it. + +Gerald was among the number; Gladys swam toward it, beckoning +imperiously to Selwyn; but he had his back to the sea and was moving +slowly out through the flat swirling ebb. And as Eileen looked, she saw +a dark streak leap across his face--saw him stoop and wash it off and +stand, looking blindly about, while again the sudden dark line +criss-crossed his face from temple to chin, and spread wider like a +stain. + +"Philip!" she called, springing to her feet and scarcely knowing that +she had spoken. + +He heard her, and came toward her in a halting, dazed way, stopping +twice to cleanse his face of the bright blood that streaked it. + +"It's nothing," he said--"the infernal thing hit me. . . . Oh, don't use +_that_!" as she drenched her kerchief in cold sea-water and held it +toward him with both hands. + +"Take it!--I--I beg of you," she stammered. "Is it s-serious?" + +"Why, no," he said, his senses clearing; "it was only a rap on the +head--and this blood is merely a nuisance. . . . Thank you, I will use +your kerchief if you insist. . . . It'll stop in a moment, anyway." + +"Please sit here," she said--"here where I've been sitting." + +He did so, muttering: "What a nuisance. It will stop in a second. . . . +You needn't remain here with me, you know. Go in; it is simply +glorious." + +"I've been in; I was drying my hair." + +He glanced up, smiling; then, as the wet kerchief against his forehead +reddened, he started to rise, but she took it from his fingers, hastened +to the water's edge, rinsed it, and brought it back cold and wet. + +"Please sit perfectly still," she said; "a girl likes to do this sort of +thing for a man." + +"If I'd known that," he laughed, "I'd have had it happen frequently." + +She only shook her head, watching him unsmiling. But the pulse in her +had become very quiet again. + +"It's no end of fun in that canoe," he observed. "Gladys Orchil and I +work it beautifully." + +"I saw you did," she nodded. + +"Oh! Where were you? Why didn't you come?" + +"I don't know. Gladys called you. I was waiting for you--expecting you. +Then Gladys called you." + +"I didn't see you," he said. + +"I didn't call you," she observed serenely. And, after a moment: "Do you +see only those who hail you, Captain Selwyn?" + +He laughed: "In this life's cruise a good sailor always answers a +friendly hail." + +"So do I," she said. "Please hail me after this--because I don't care to +take the initiative. If you neglect to do it, don't count on my hailing +you . . . any more." + +The stain spread on the kerchief; once more she went to the water's +edge, rinsed it, and returned with it. + +"I think it has almost stopped bleeding," she remarked as he laid the +cloth against his forehead. "You frightened me, Captain Selwyn. I am not +easily frightened." + +"I know it." + +"Did you know I was frightened?" + +"Of course I did." + +"Oh," she said, vexed, "how could you know it? I didn't do anything +silly, did I?" + +"No; you very sensibly called me Philip. That's how I knew you were +frightened." + +A slow bright colour stained face and neck. + +"So I was silly, after all," she said, biting at her under lip and +trying to meet his humorous gray eyes with unconcern. But her face was +burning now, and, aware of it, she turned her gaze resolutely on the +sea. Also, to her further annoyance, her heart awoke, beating +unwarrantably, absurdly, until the dreadful idea seized her that he +could hear it. Disconcerted, she stood up--a straight youthful figure +against the sea. The wind blowing her dishevelled hair across her cheeks +and shoulders, fluttered her clinging skirts as she rested both hands on +her hips and slowly walked toward the water's edge. + +"Shall we swim?" he asked her. + +She half turned and looked around and down at him. + +"I'm all right; it's stopped bleeding. Shall we?" he inquired, looking +up at her. "You've got to wash your hair again, anyhow." + +She said, feeling suddenly stupid and childish, and knowing she was +speaking stupidly: "Would you not rather join Gladys again? I thought +that--that--" + +"Thought _what_?" + +"Nothing," she said, furious at herself; "I am going to the showers. +Good-bye." + +"Good-bye," he said, troubled--"unless we walk to the pavilion +together--" + +"But you are going in again; are you not?" + +"Not unless you do." + +"W-what have I to do with it, Captain Selwyn?" + +"It's a big ocean--and rather lonely without you," he said so seriously +that she looked around again and laughed. + +"It's full of pretty girls just now. Plunge in, my melancholy friend. +The whole ocean is a dream of fair women to-day." + +"'If they be not fair to me, what care I how fair they be,'" he +paraphrased, springing to his feet and keeping step beside her. + +"Really, that won't do," she said; "much moonlight and Gladys and the +Minster twins convict you. Do you remember that I told you one day in +early summer--that Sheila and Dorothy and Gladys would mark you for +their own? Oh, my inconstant courtier, they are yonder!--And I absolve +you. Adieu!" + +"Do you remember what _I_ told _you_--one day in early summer?" he +returned coolly. + +Her heart began its absurd beating again--but now there was no trace of +pain in it--nothing of apprehension in the echo of the pulse either. + +"You protested so many things, Captain Selwyn--" + +"Yes; and one thing in particular. You've forgotten it, I see." And he +looked her in the eye. + +"No," she said, "you are wrong. I have not forgotten." + +"Nor I." + +He halted, looking out over the shining breakers. "I'm glad you have not +forgotten what I said; because, you see, I'm forbidden to repeat it. So +I shall be quite helpless to aid you in case your memory fails." + +"I don't think it will fail," she said, looking at the flashing sea. A +curious tingling sensation of fright had seized her--something entirely +unknown to her heretofore. She spoke again because frightened; the +heavy, hard pulse in breast and throat played tricks with her voice and +she swallowed and attempted to steady it: "I--if--if I ever forget, you +will know it as soon as I do--" + +Her throat seemed to close in a quick, unsteady breath; she halted, both +small hands clinched: + +"_Don't_ talk this way!" she said, exasperated under a rush of +sensations utterly incomprehensible--stinging, confused emotions that +beat chaotic time to the clamour of her pulses. "Why d-do you speak of +such things?" she repeated with a fierce little indrawn breath--"why do +you?--when you know--when I said--explained everything?" She looked at +him fearfully: "You are somehow spoiling our friendship," she said; "and +I don't exactly know how you are doing it, but something of the comfort +of it is being taken away from me--and don't! don't! don't do it!" + +She covered her eyes with her clinched hands, stood a moment, +motionless; then her arms dropped, and she turned sharply with a gesture +which left him standing there and walked rapidly across the beach to the +pavilion. + +After a little while he followed, pursuing his way very leisurely to his +own quarters. Half an hour later when she emerged with her maid, Selwyn +was not waiting for her as usual; and, scarcely understanding that she +was finding an excuse for lingering, she stood for ten minutes on the +step of the Orchils' touring-car, talking to Gladys about the lantern +fete and dance to be given that night at Hitherwood House. + +Evidently Selwyn had already gone home. Gerald came lagging up with +Sheila Minster; but his sister did not ask him whether Selwyn had gone. +Yesterday she would have done so; but to-day had brought to her the +strangest sensation of her young life--a sudden and overpowering fear of +a friend; and yet, strangest of all, the very friend she feared she was +waiting for--contriving to find excuses to wait for. Surely he could not +have finished dressing and have gone. He had never before done that. Why +did he not come? It was late; people were leaving the pavilion; +victorias and beach-phaetons were trundling off loaded to the water-line +with fat dowagers; gay groups passed, hailing her or waving adieux; +Drina drove up in her village-cart, calling out: "Are you coming, +Eileen, or are you going to walk over? Hurry up! I'm hungry." + +"I'll go with you," she said, nodding adieu to Gladys; and she swung off +the step and crossed the shell road. + +"Jump in," urged the child; "I'm in a dreadful hurry, and Odin can't +trot very fast." + +"I'd prefer to drive slowly," said Miss Erroll in a colourless voice; +and seated herself in the village-cart. + +"Why must I drive slowly?" demanded the child. "I'm hungry; besides, I +haven't seen Boots this morning. I don't want to drive slowly; must I?" + +"Which are you most in a hurry for?" asked Eileen curiously; "luncheon +or Boots?" + +"Both--I don't know. What a silly question. Boots of course! But I'm +starving, too." + +"Boots? Of course?" + +"Certainly. He always comes first--just like Captain Selwyn with you." + +"Like Captain Selwyn with me," she repeated absently; "certainly; +Captain Selwyn should be first, everything else second. But how did you +find out that, Drina?" + +"Why, anybody can see that," said the child contemptuously; "you are as +fast friends with Uncle Philip as I am with Boots. And why you don't +marry him I can't see--unless you're not old enough. Are you?" + +"Yes. . . . I am old enough, dear." + +"Then why don't you? If I was old enough to marry Boots I'd do it. Why +don't you?" + +"I don't know," said Miss Erroll, as though speaking to herself. + +Drina glanced at her, then flourished her be-ribboned whip, which +whistling threat had no perceptible effect on the fat, red, Norwegian +pony. + +"I'll tell you what," said the child, "if you don't ask Uncle Philip +pretty soon somebody will ask him first, and you'll be too late. As soon +as I saw Boots I knew that I wanted him for myself, and I told him so. +He said he was very glad I had spoken, because he was expecting a +proposal by wireless from the young Sultana-elect of Leyte. Now," added +the child with satisfaction, "she can't have him. It's better to be in +time, you see." + +Eileen nodded: "Yes, it is better to be in plenty of time. You can't +tell what Sultana may forestall you." + +"So you'll tell him, won't you?" inquired Drina with business-like +briskness. + +Miss Erroll looked absently at her: "Tell who what?" + +"Uncle Philip--that you're going to marry him when you're old enough." + +"Yes--when I'm old enough--I'll tell him, Drina." + +"Oh, no; I mean you'll marry him when you're old enough, but you'd +better tell him right away." + +"I see; I'd better speak immediately. Thank you, dear, for suggesting +it." + +"You're quite welcome," said the child seriously; "and I hope you'll be +as happy as I am." + +"I hope so," said Eileen as the pony-cart drew up by the veranda and a +groom took the pony's head. + +Luncheon being the children's hour, Miss Erroll's silence remained +unnoticed in the jolly uproar; besides, Gerald and Boots were discussing +the huge house-party, lantern fete, and dance which the Orchils were +giving that night for the younger sets; and Selwyn, too, seemed to take +unusual interest in the discussion, though Eileen's part in the +conference was limited to an occasional nod or monosyllable. + +Drina was wild to go and furious at not having been asked, but when +Boots offered to stay home, she resolutely refused to accept the +sacrifice. + +"No," she said; "they are pigs not to ask girls of my age, but you may +go, Boots, and I'll promise not to be unhappy." And she leaned over and +added in a whisper to Eileen: "You see how sensible it is to make +arrangements beforehand! Because somebody, grown-up, might take him away +at this very party. That's the reason why it is best to speak promptly. +Please pass me another peach, Eileen." + +"What are you two children whispering about?" inquired Selwyn, glancing +at Eileen. + +"Oho!" exclaimed Drina; "you may know before long! May he not, Eileen? +It's about you," she said; "something splendid that somebody is going to +do to you! Isn't it, Eileen?" + +Miss Erroll looked smilingly at Selwyn, a gay jest on her lips; but the +sudden clamour of pulses in her throat closed her lips, cutting the +phrase in two, and the same strange fright seized her--an utterly +unreasoning fear of him. + +At the same moment Mrs. Gerard gave the rising signal, and Selwyn was +swept away in the rushing herd of children, out on to the veranda, where +for a while he smoked and drew pictures for the younger Gerards. Later, +some of the children were packed off for a nap; Billy with his assorted +puppies went away with Drina and Boots, ever hopeful of a fox or rabbit; +Nina Gerard curled herself up in a hammock, and Selwyn seated himself +beside her, an uncut magazine on his knees. Eileen had disappeared. + +For a while Nina swung there in silence, her pretty eyes fixed on her +brother. He had nearly finished cutting the leaves of the magazine +before she spoke, mentioning the fact of Rosamund Fane's arrival at the +Minsters' house, Brookminster. + +The slightest frown gathered and passed from her brother's sun-bronzed +forehead, but he made no comment. + +"Mr. Neergard is a guest, too," she observed. + +"What?" exclaimed Selwyn, in disgust. + +"Yes; he came ashore with the Fanes." + +Selwyn flushed a little but went on cutting the pages of the magazine. +When he had finished he flattened the pages between both covers, and +said, without raising his eyes: + +"I'm sorry that crowd is to be in evidence." + +"They always are and always will be," smiled his sister. + +He looked up at her: "Do you mean that anybody _else_ is a guest at +Brookminster?" + +"Yes, Phil." + +"Alixe?" + +"Yes." + +He looked down at the book on his knees and began to furrow the pages +absently. + +"Phil," she said, "have you heard anything this summer--lately--about +the Ruthvens?" + +"No." + +"Nothing at all?" + +"Not a word." + +"You knew they were at Newport as usual." + +"I took it for granted." + +"And you have heard no rumours?--no gossip concerning them? Nothing +about a yacht?" + +"Where was I to hear it? What gossip? What yacht?" + +His sister said very seriously: "Alixe has been very careless." + +"Everybody is. What of it?" + +"It is understood that she and Jack Ruthven have separated." + +He looked up quickly: "Who told you that?" + +"A woman wrote me from Newport. . . . And Alixe is here and Jack Ruthven +is in New York. Several people have--I have heard about it from several +sources. I'm afraid it's true, Phil." + +They looked into each other's troubled eyes; and he said: "If she has +done this it is the worse of two evils she has chosen. To live with him +was bad enough, but this is the limit." + +"I know it. She cannot afford to do such a thing again. . . . Phil, what +is the matter with her? She simply cannot be sane and do such a +thing--can she?" + +"I don't know," he said. + +"Well, I do. She is not sane. She has made herself horridly conspicuous +among conspicuous people; she has been indiscreet to the outer edge of +effrontery. Even that set won't stand it always--especially as their men +folk are quite crazy about her, and she leads a train of them about +wherever she goes--the little fool! + +"And now, if it's true, that there's to be a separation--what on earth +will become of her? I ask you, Phil, for I don't know. But men know what +becomes eventually of women who slap the world across the face with +over-ringed fingers. + +"If--if there's any talk about it--if there's newspaper talk--if +there's a divorce--who will ask her to their houses? Who will condone +this thing? Who will tolerate it, or her? Men--and men only--the odious +sort that fawn on her now and follow her about half-sneeringly. They'll +tolerate it; but their wives won't; and the kind of women who will +receive and tolerate her are not included in my personal experience. +What a fool she has been!--good heavens, what a fool!" + +A trifle paler than usual, he said: "There is no real harm in her. I +know there is not." + +"You are very generous, Phil--" + +"No, I am trying to be truthful. And I say there is no harm in her. I +have made up my mind on that score." He leaned nearer his sister and +laid one hand on hers where it lay across the hammock's edge: + +"Nina; no woman could have done what she has done, and continue to do +what she does, and be mentally sound. This, at last, is my conclusion." + +"It has long been my conclusion," she said under her breath. + +He stared at the floor out of gray eyes grown dull and hopeless. + +"Phil," whispered his sister, "suppose--suppose--what happened to her +father--" + +"I know." + +She said again: "It was slow at first, a brilliant eccentricity--that +gradually became--something else less pleasant. Oh, Phil! Phil!" + +"It was softening of the brain," he said, "was it not?" + +"Yes--he entertained a delusion of conspiracy against him--also a +complacent conviction of the mental instability of others. Yet, at +intervals he remained clever and witty and charming." + +"And then?" + +"Phil--he became violent at times." + +"Yes. And the end?" he asked quietly. + +"A little child again--quite happy and content--playing with toys--very +gentle, very pitiable--" The hot tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Phil!" she +sobbed and hid her face on his shoulder. + +Over the soft, faintly fragrant hair he stared stupidly, lips apart, +chin loose. + +A little later, Nina sat up in the hammock, daintily effacing the traces +of tears. Selwyn was saying: "If this is so, that Ruthven man has got to +stand by her. Where could she go--if such trouble is to come upon her? +To whom can she turn if not to him? He is responsible for her--doubly +so, if her condition is to be--_that_! By every law of manhood he is +bound to stand by her now; by every law of decency and humanity he +cannot desert her now. If she does these--these indiscreet things--and +if he knows she is not altogether mentally responsible--he cannot fail +to stand by her! How can he, in God's name!" + +"Phil," she said, "you speak like a man, but she has no man to stand +loyally by her in the direst need a human soul may know. He is only a +thing--no man at all--only a loathsome accident of animated decadence." + +He looked up quickly, amazed at her sudden bitterness; and she looked +back at him almost fiercely. + +"I may as well tell you what I've heard," she said; "I was not going to, +at first; but it will be all around town sooner or later. Rosamund told +me. She learned--as she manages to learn everything a little before +anybody else hears of it--that Jack Ruthven found out that Alixe was +behaving very carelessly with some man--some silly, callow, and +probably harmless youth. But there was a disgraceful scene on Mr. +Neergard's yacht, the _Niobrara_. I don't know who the people were, but +Ruthven acted abominably. . . . The _Niobrara_ anchored in Widgeon Bay +yesterday; and Alixe is aboard, and her husband is in New York, and +Rosamund says he means to divorce her in one way or another! Ugh! the +horrible little man with his rings and bangles!" + +She shuddered: "Why, the mere bringing of such a suit means her social +ruin no matter what verdict is brought in! Her only salvation has +been in remaining inconspicuous; and a sane girl would have realised +it. But"--and she made a gesture of despair--"you see what she has +done. . . . And Phil--you know what she has done to you--what a mad risk +she took in going to your rooms that night--" + +"Who said she had ever been in my rooms?" he demanded, flushing darkly +in his surprise. + +"Did you suppose I didn't know it?" she asked quietly. "Oh, but I did; +and it kept me awake nights, worrying. Yet I knew it must have been all +right--knowing you as I do. But do you suppose other people would hold +you as innocent as I do? Even Eileen--the sweetest, whitest, most loyal +little soul in the world--was troubled when Rosamund hinted at some +scandal touching you and Alixe. She told me--but she did not tell me +what Rosamund had said--the mischief maker!" + +His face had become quite colourless; he raised an unsteady hand to his +mouth, touching his moustache; and his gray eyes narrowed menacingly. + +"Rosamund--spoke of scandal to--Eileen?" he repeated. "Is that +possible?" + +"How long do you suppose a girl can live and not hear scandal of some +sort?" said Nina. "It's bound to rain some time or other, but I prepared +my little duck's back to shed some things." + +"You say," insisted Selwyn, "that Rosamund spoke of me--in that way--to +Eileen?" + +"Yes. It only made the child angry, Phil; so don't worry." + +"No; I won't worry. No, I--I won't. You are quite right, Nina. But the +pity of it; that tight, hard-shelled woman of the world--to do such a +thing--to a young girl." + +"Rosamund is Rosamund," said Nina with a shrug; "the antidote to her +species is obvious." + +"Right, thank God!" said Selwyn between his teeth; "_Mens sana in +corpore sano_! bless her little heart! I'm glad you told me this, Nina." + +He rose and laughed a little--a curious sort of laugh; and Nina watched +him, perplexed. + +"Where are you going, Phil?" she asked. + +"I don't know. I--where is Eileen?" + +"She's lying down--a headache; probably too much sun and salt water. +Shall I send for her?" + +"No; I'll go up and inquire how she is. Susanne is there, isn't she?" + +And he entered the house and ascended the stairs. + +The little Alsatian maid was seated in a corner of the upper hall, +sewing; and she informed Selwyn that mademoiselle "had bad in ze h'ead." + +But at the sound of conversation in the corridor Eileen's gay voice came +to them from her room, asking who it was; and she evidently knew, for +there was a hint of laughter in her tone. + +"It is I. Are you better?" said Selwyn. + +"Yes. D-did you wish to see me?" + +"I always do." + +"Thank you. . . . I mean, do you wish to see me now? Because I'm very +much occupied in trying to go to sleep." + +"Yes, I wish to see you at once." + +"Particularly?" + +"Very particularly." + +"Oh, if it's as serious as that, you alarm me. I'm afraid to come." + +"I'm afraid to have you. But please come." + +He heard her laugh to herself; then her clear, amused voice: "What are +you going to say to me if I come out?" + +"Something dreadful! Hurry!" + +"Oh, if that's the case I'll hurry," she returned, and a moment later +the door opened and she emerged in a breezy flutter of silvery ribbons +and loosened ruddy hair. + +She was dressed in some sort of delicate misty stuff that alternately +clung and floated, outlining or clouding her glorious young figure as +she moved with leisurely free-limbed grace across the hall to meet him. + +The pretty greeting she always reserved for him, even if their +separation had been for a few minutes only, she now offered, hand +extended; a cool, fragrant hand which lay for a second in his, closed, +and withdrew, leaving her eyes very friendly. + +"Come out on the west veranda," she said; "I know what you wish to say +to me. Besides, I have something to confide to you, too. And I'm very +impatient to do it." + +He followed her to the veranda; she seated herself in the broad swing, +and moved so that her invitation to him was unmistakable. Then when he +had taken the place beside her she turned toward him very frankly, and +he looked up to encounter her beautiful direct gaze. + +"What is disturbing our friendship?" she asked. "Do you know? I don't. I +went to my room after luncheon and lay down on my bed and quietly +deliberated. And do you know what conclusion I have reached?" + +"What?" he asked. + +"That there is nothing at all to disturb our friendship. And that what I +said to you on the beach was foolish. I don't know why I said it; I'm +not the sort of girl who says such stupid things--though I was +apparently, for that one moment. And what I said about Gladys was +childish; I am not jealous of her, Captain Selwyn. Don't think me silly +or perverse or sentimental, will you?" + +"No, I won't." + +She smiled at him with a trifle less courage--a trifle more +self-consciousness: "And--and as for what I called you--" + +"You mean when you called me by my first name, and I teased you?" + +"Y-es. I was silly to do it; sillier to be ashamed of doing it. There's +a great deal of the callow schoolgirl in me yet, you see. The wise, +amused smile of a man can sometimes stampede my self-possession and +leave me blushing like any ninny in dire confusion. . . . It was very, +very mean of you--for the blood across your face did shock me. . . . +And, by myself, and in my very private thoughts, I do sometimes call +you--by your first name. . . . And that explains it. . . . Now, what +have you to say to me?" + +"I wish to ask you something." + +"With pleasure," she said; "go ahead." And she settled back, fearlessly +expectant. + +"Very well, then," he said, striving to speak coolly. "It is this: Will +you marry me, Eileen?" + +She turned perfectly white and stared at him, stunned. And he repeated +his question, speaking slowly, but unsteadily. + +"N-no," she said; "I cannot. Why--why, you know that, don't you?" + +"Will you tell me why, Eileen?" + +"I--I don't know why. I think--I suppose that it is because I do not +love you--that way." + +"Yes," he said, "that, of course, is the reason. I wonder--do you +suppose that--in time--perhaps--you might care for me--that way?" + +"I don't know." She glanced up at him fearfully, fascinated, yet +repelled. "I don't know," she repeated pitifully. "Is it--can't you help +thinking of me in that way? Can't you be as you were?" + +"No, I can no longer help it. I don't want to help it, Eileen." + +"But--I wish you to," she said in a low voice. "It is that which is +coming between us. Oh, don't you see it is? Don't you feel it--feel what +it is doing to us? Don't you understand how it is driving me back into +myself? Whom am I to go to if not to you? What am I to do if your +affection turns into this--this different attitude toward me? You were +so perfectly sweet and reasonable--so good, so patient; and now--and now +I am losing confidence in you--in myself--in our friendship. +I'm no longer frank with you; I'm afraid at times--afraid and +self-conscious--conscious of you, too--afraid of what seemed once the +most natural of intimacies. I--I loved you so dearly--so fearlessly--" + +Tears blinded her; she bent her head, and they fell on the soft delicate +stuff of her gown, flashing downward in the sunlight. + +"Dear," he said gently, "nothing is altered between us. I love you in +that way, too." + +"D-do you--really?" she stammered, shrinking away from him. + +"Truly. Nothing is altered; nothing of the bond between us is weakened. +On the contrary, it is strengthened. You cannot understand that now. But +what you are to believe and always understand is that our friendship +must endure. Will you believe it?" + +"Y-yes--" She buried her face in her handkerchief and sat very still for +a long time. He had risen and walked to the farther end of the veranda; +and for a minute he stood there, his narrowed eyes following the sky +flight of the white gulls off Wonder Head. + +When at length he returned to her she was sitting low in the swing, both +arms extended along the back of the seat. Evidently she had been waiting +for him; and her face was very grave and sorrowful. + +"I want to ask you something," she said--"merely to prove that you are a +little bit illogical. May I?" + +He nodded, smiling. + +"Could you and I care for each other more than we now do, if we were +married?" + +"I think so," he said. + +"Why?" she demanded, astonished. Evidently she had expected another +answer. + +He made no reply; and she lay back among the cushions considering what +he had said, the flush of surprise still lingering in her cheeks. + +"How can I marry you," she asked, "when I would--would not care to +endure a--a caress from any man--even from you? It--such things--would +spoil it all. I _don't_ love you--that way. . . . Oh! _Don't_ look at me +that way! Have I hurt you?--dear Captain Selwyn? . . . I did not mean +to. . . . Oh, what has become of our happiness! What has become of it!" +And she turned, full length in the swing, and hid her face in the silken +pillows. + +For a long while she lay there, the western sun turning her crown of +hair to fire above the white nape of her slender neck; and he saw her +hands clasping, unclasping, or crushing the tiny handkerchief deep into +one palm. + +There was a chair near; he drew it toward her, and sat down, steadying +the swing with one hand on the chain. + +"Dearest," he said under his breath, "I am very selfish to have done +this; but I--I thought--perhaps--you might have cared enough to--to +venture--" + +"I do care; you are very cruel to me." The voice was childishly broken +and muffled. He looked down at her, slowly realising that it was a child +he still was dealing with--a child with a child's innocence, repelled by +the graver phase of love, unresponsive to the deeper emotions, +bewildered by the glimpse of the mature role his attitude had compelled +her to accept. That she already had reached that mile-stone and, for a +moment, had turned involuntarily to look back and find her childhood +already behind her, frightened her. + +Thinking, perhaps, of his own years, and of what lay behind him, he +sighed and looked out over the waste of moorland where the Atlantic was +battering the sands of Surf Point. Then his patient gaze shifted to the +east, and he saw the surface of Sky Pond, blue as the eyes of the girl +who lay crouching in the cushioned corner of the swinging seat, small +hands clinched over the handkerchief--a limp bit of stuff damp with her +tears. + +"There is one thing," he said, "that we mustn't do--cry about it--must +we, Eileen?" + +"No-o." + +"Certainly not. Because there is nothing to make either of us unhappy; +is there?" + +"Oh-h, no." + +"Exactly. So we're not going to be unhappy; not one bit. First because +we love each other, anyway; don't we?" + +"Y-yes." + +"Of course we do. And now, just because I happen to love you in that way +and also in a different sort of way, in addition to that way, why, it's +nothing for anybody to cry about it; is it, Eileen?" + +"No. . . . No, it is not. . . . But I c-can't help it." + +"Oh, but you're going to help it, aren't you?" + +"I--I hope so." + +He was silent; and presently she said: "I--the reason of it--my +crying--is b-b-because I don't wish you to be unhappy." + +"But, dear, dear little girl, I am not!" + +"Really?" + +"No, indeed! Why should I be? You do love me; don't you?" + +"You know I do." + +"But not in _that_ way." + +"N-no; not in _that_ way. . . . I w-wish I did." + +A thrill passed through him; after a moment he relaxed and leaned +forward, his chin resting on his clinched hands: "Then let us go back to +the old footing, Eileen." + +"Can we?" + +"Yes, we can; and we will--back to the old footing--when nothing of +deeper sentiment disturbed us. . . . It was my fault, little girl. Some +day you will understand that it was not a wholly selfish fault--because +I believed--perhaps only dreamed--that I could make you happier by +loving you in--both ways. That is all; it is your happiness--our +happiness that we must consider; and if it is to last and endure, we +must be very, very careful that nothing really disturbs it again. And +that means that the love, which is sometimes called friendship, must be +recognised as sufficient. . . . You know how it is; a man who is locked +up in Paradise is never satisfied until he can climb the wall and look +over! Now I have climbed and looked; and now I climb back into the +garden of your dear friendship, very glad to be there again with +you--very, very thankful, dear. . . . Will you welcome me back?" + +She lay quite still a minute, then sat up straight, stretching out both +hands to him, her beautiful, fearless eyes brilliant as rain-washed +stars. + +"Don't go away," she said--"don't ever go away from our garden again." + +"No, Eileen." + +"Is it a promise . . . Philip?" + +Her voice fell exquisitely low. + +"Yes, a promise. Do you take me back, Eileen?" + +"Yes; I take you. . . . Take me back, too, Philip." Her hands tightened +in his; she looked up at him, faltered, waited; then in a fainter voice: +"And--and be of g-good courage. . . . I--I am not very old yet." + +She withdrew her hands and bent her head, sitting there, still as a +white-browed novice, listlessly considering the lengthening shadows at +her feet. But, as he rose and looked out across the waste with enchanted +eyes that saw nothing, his heart suddenly leaped up quivering, as though +his very soul had been drenched in immortal sunshine. + +An hour later, when Nina discovered them there together, Eileen, curled +up among the cushions in the swinging seat, was reading aloud "Evidences +of Asiatic Influence on the Symbolism of Ancient Yucatan"; and Selwyn, +astride a chair, chin on his folded arms, was listening with evident +rapture. + +"Heavens!" exclaimed Nina, "the blue-stocking and the fogy!--and yours +_are_ pale blue, Eileen!--you're about as self-conscious as +Drina--slumping there with your hair tumbling _a la_ Merode! Oh, it's +very picturesque, of course, but a straight spine and good grooming is +better. Get up, little blue-stockings and we'll have our hair done--if +you expect to appear at Hitherwood House with me!" + +Eileen laughed, calmly smoothing out her skirt over her slim ankles; +then she closed the book, sat up, and looked happily at Selwyn. + +"Fogy and _Bas-bleu_," she repeated. "But it _is_ fascinating, isn't +it?--even if my hair is across my ears and you sit that chair like a +polo player! Nina, dearest, what is your mature opinion concerning the +tomoya and the Buddhist cross?" + +"I know more about a tomboy-a than a tomoya, my saucy friend," observed +Nina, surveying her with disapproval--"and I can be as cross about it as +any Buddhist, too. You are, to express it as pleasantly as possible, a +sight! Child, what on earth have you been doing? There are two smears +on your cheeks!" + +"I've been crying," said the girl, with an amused sidelong flutter of +her lids toward Selwyn. + +"Crying!" repeated Nina incredulously. Then, disarmed by the serene +frankness of the girl, she added: "A blue-stocking is bad enough, but a +grimy one is impossible. _Allons! Vite_!" she insisted, driving Eileen +before her; "the country is demoralising you. Philip, we're dining +early, so please make your arrangements to conform. Come, Eileen; have +you never before seen Philip Selwyn?" + +"I am not sure that I ever have," she replied, with a curious little +smile at Selwyn. Nina had her by the hand, but she dragged back like a +mischievously reluctant child hustled bedward: + +"Good-bye," she said, stretching out her hand to Selwyn--"good-bye, my +unfortunate fellow fogy! I go, slumpy, besmudged, but happy; I return, +superficially immaculate--but my stockings will still be blue! . . . +Nina, dear, if you don't stop dragging me I'll pick you up in my +arms!--indeed I will--" + +There was a laugh, a smothered cry of protest; and Selwyn was the amused +spectator of his sister suddenly seized and lifted into a pair of +vigorous young arms, and carried into the house by this tall, laughing +girl who, an hour before, had lain there among the cushions, frightened, +unconvinced, clinging instinctively to the last gay rags and tatters of +the childhood which she feared were to be stripped from her for ever. + +It was clear starlight when they were ready to depart. Austin had +arrived unexpectedly, and he, Nina, Eileen, and Selwyn were to drive to +Hitherwood House, Lansing and Gerald going in the motor-boat. + +There was a brief scene between Drina and Boots--the former fiercely +pointing out the impropriety of a boy like Gerald being invited where +she, Drina, was ignored. But there was no use in Boots offering to +remain and comfort her as Drina had to go to bed, anyway; so she kissed +him good-bye very tearfully, and generously forgave Gerald; and +comforted herself before she retired by putting on one of her mother's +gowns and pinning up her hair and parading before a pier-glass until her +nurse announced that her bath was waiting. + + * * * * * + +The drive to Hitherwood House was a dream of loveliness; under the stars +the Bay of Shoals sparkled in the blue darkness set with the gemmed ruby +and sapphire and emerald of ships' lanterns glowing from unseen yachts +at anchor. + +The great flash-light on Wonder Head broke out in brilliancy, faded, +died to a cinder, grew perceptible again, and again blazed blindingly in +its endless monotonous routine; far lights twinkled on the Sound, and +farther away still, at sea. Then the majestic velvety shadow of the +Hither Woods fell over them; and they passed in among the trees, the +lamps of the depot wagon shining golden in the forest gloom. + +Selwyn turned instinctively to the young girl beside him. Her face was +in shadow, but she responded with the slightest movement toward him: + +"This dusk is satisfying--like sleep--this wide, quiet shadow over the +world. Once--and not so very long ago--I thought it a pity that the sun +should ever set. . . . I wonder if I am growing old--because I feel the +least bit tired to-night. For the first time that I can remember a day +has been a little too long for me." + +She evidently did not ascribe her slight sense of fatigue to the scene +on the veranda; perhaps she was too innocent to surmise that any +physical effect could follow that temporary stress of emotion. A quiet +sense of relief in relaxation from effort came over her as she leaned +back, conscious that there was happiness in rest and silence and the +soft envelopment of darkness. + +"If it would only last," she murmured lazily. + +"What, Eileen?" + +"This heavenly darkness--and our drive, together. . . . You are quite +right not to talk to me; I won't, either. . . . Only I'll drone on and +on from time to time--so that you won't forget that I am here beside +you." + +She lay so still for a while that at last Nina leaned forward to look at +her; then laughed. + +"She's asleep," she said to Austin. + +"No, I'm not," murmured the girl, unclosing her eyes; "Captain Selwyn +knows; don't you? . . . What is that sparkling--a fire-fly?" + +But it was the first paper lantern glimmering through the Hitherwood +trees from the distant lawn. + +"Oh, dear," sighed Eileen, sitting up with an effort, and looking +sleepily at Selwyn. "_J'ai sommeil--besoin--dormir_--" + +But a few minutes later they were in the great hall of Hitherwood House, +opened from end to end to the soft sea wind, and crowded with the +gayest, noisiest throng that had gathered there in a twelvemonth. + +Everywhere the younger set were in evidence; slim, fresh, girlish +figures passed and gathered and crowded the stairs and galleries with a +flirt and flutter of winnowing skirts, delicate and light as +powder-puffs. + +Mrs. Sanxon Orchil, a hard, highly coloured, tight-lipped little woman +with electric-blue eyes, was receiving with her slim brunette daughter, +Gladys. + +"A tight little craft," was Austin's invariable comment on the matron; +and she looked it, always trim and trig and smooth of surface like a +converted yacht cleared for action. + +Near her wandered her husband, orientally bland, invariably affable, and +from time to time squinting sideways, as usual, in the ever-renewed +expectation that he might catch a glimpse of his stiff, retrousse +moustache. + +The Lawns were there, the Minsters, the Craigs from Wyossett, the Grays +of Shadow Lake, the Draymores, Fanes, Mottlys, Cardwells--in fact, it +seemed as though all Long Island had been drained from Cedarhurst to +Islip and from Oyster Bay to Wyossett, to pour a stream of garrulous and +animated youth and beauty into the halls and over the verandas and +terraces and lawns of Hitherwood House. + +It was to be a lantern frolic and a lantern dance and supper, all most +formally and impressively _sans facon_. And it began with a candle-race +for a big silver gilt cup--won by Sandon Craig and his partner, Evelyn +Cardwell, who triumphantly bore their lighted taper safely among the +throngs of hostile contestants, through the wilderness of flitting +lights, and across the lawn to the goal where they planted it, +unextinguished, in the big red paper lantern. + +Selwyn and Eileen came up breathless and laughing with the others, she +holding aloft their candle, which somebody had succeeded in blowing out; +and everybody cheered the winners, significantly, for it was expected +that Miss Cardwell's engagement to young Craig would be announced before +very long. + +Then rockets began to rush aloft, starring the black void with +iridescent fire; and everybody went to the lawn's edge where, below on +the bay, a dozen motor-boats, dressed fore and aft with necklaces of +electric lights, crossed the line at the crack of a cannon in a race for +another trophy. + +Bets flew as the excitement grew, Eileen confining hers to gloves and +bonbons, and Selwyn loyally taking any offers of any kind as he +uncompromisingly backed Gerald and Boots in the new motor-boat--the +_Blue Streak_--Austin's contribution to the Silverside navy. + +And sure enough, at last a blue rocket soared aloft, bursting into azure +magnificence in the zenith; and Gerald and Boots came climbing up to the +lawn to receive prize and compliments, and hasten away to change their +oilskins for attire more suitable. + +Eileen, turning to Selwyn, held up her booking list in laughing dismay: +"I've won about a ton of bonbons," she said, "and too many pairs of +gloves to feel quite comfortable." + +"You needn't wear them all at once, you know," he assured her. + +"Nonsense! I mean that I don't care to win things. Oh!"--and she laid +her hand impulsively on his arm as a huge sheaf of rockets roared +skyward, apparently from the water. + +Then, suddenly, Neergard's yacht sprang into view, outlined in +electricity from stem to stern, every spar and funnel and contour of +hull and superstructure twinkling in jewelled brilliancy. + +On a great improvised open pavilion set up in the Hither Woods, +garlanded and hung thick with multi-coloured paper lanterns, dancing had +already begun; but Selwyn and Eileen lingered on the lawn for a while, +fascinated by the beauty of the fireworks pouring skyward from the +_Niobrara_. + +"They seem to be very gay aboard her," murmured the girl. "Once you said +that you did not like Mr. Neergard. Do you remember saying it?" + +He replied simply, "I don't like him; and I remember saying so." + +"It is strange," she said, "that Gerald does." + +Selwyn looked at the illuminated yacht. . . . "I wonder whether any of +Neergard's crowd is expected ashore here. Do you happen to know?" + +She did not know. A moment later, to his annoyance, Edgerton Lawn came +up and asked her to dance; and she went with a smile and a whispered: +"Wait for me--if you don't mind. I'll come back to you." + +It was all very well to wait for her--and even to dance with her after +that; but there appeared to be no peace for him in prospect, for Scott +Innis came and took her away, and Gladys Orchil offered herself to him +very prettily, and took him away; and after that, to his perplexity and +consternation, a perfect furor for him seemed to set in and grow among +the younger set, and the Minster twins had him, and Hilda Innis +appropriated him, and Evelyn Cardwell, and even Mrs. Delmour-Carnes took +a hand in the badgering. + +At intervals he caught glimpses of Eileen through the gay crush around +him; he danced with Nina, and suggested to her it was time to leave, but +that young matron had tasted just enough to want more; and Eileen, too, +was evidently having a most delightful time. So he settled into the +harness of pleasure and was good to the pink-and-white ones; and they +told each other what a "dear" he was, and adored him more inconveniently +than ever. + +Truly enough, as he had often said, these younger ones were the +charmingly wholesome and refreshing antidote to the occasional +misbehaviour of the mature. They were, as he also asserted, the hope and +promise of the social fabric of a nation--this younger set--always a +little better, a little higher-minded than their predecessors as the +wheel of the years slowly turned them out in gay, eager, fearless +throngs to teach a cynical generation the rudiments of that wisdom which +blossoms most perfectly in the hearts of the unawakened. + +Yes, he had frequently told himself all this; told it to others, too. +But, now, the younger set, _en masse_ and in detail, had become a little +bit _cramponne_--a trifle too all-pervading. And it was because his +regard for them, in the abstract, had become centred in a single +concrete example that he began to find the younger set a nuisance. But +others, it seemed, were quite as mad about Eileen Erroll as he was; and +there seemed to be small chance for him to possess himself of her, +unless he were prepared to make the matter of possession a pointed +episode. This he knew he had no right to do; she had conferred no such +privilege upon him; and he was obliged to be careful of what he did and +said lest half a thousand bright unwinking eyes wink too knowingly--lest +frivolous tongues go clip-clap, and idle brains infer that which, alas! +did not exist except in his vision of desire. + +The Hither Woods had been hung with myriads of lanterns. From every +branch they swung in clusters or stretched away into perspective, +turning the wooded aisles to brilliant vistas. Under them the more +romantic and the dance-worn strolled in animated groups or quieter twos; +an army of servants flitted hither and thither, serving the acre or so +of small tables over each of which an electric cluster shed yellow +light. + +Supper, and then the Woodland cotillon was the programme; and almost all +the tables were filled before Selwyn had an opportunity to collect Nina +and Austin and capture Eileen from a very rosy-cheeked and indignant boy +who had quite lost his head and heart and appeared to be on the verge of +a headlong declaration. + +"It's only Percy Draymore's kid brother," she explained, passing her arm +through his with a little sigh of satisfaction. "Where have you been all +the while?--and with whom have you danced, please?--and who is the +pretty girl you paid court to during that last dance? What? _Didn't_ pay +court to her? Do you expect me to believe that? . . . Oh, here comes +Nina and Austin. . . . How pretty the tables look, all lighted up among +the trees! And such an uproar!"--as they came into the jolly tumult and +passed in among a labyrinth of tables, greeted laughingly from every +side. + +Under a vigorous young oak-tree thickly festooned with lanterns Austin +found an unoccupied table. There was a great deal of racket and laughter +from the groups surrounding them, but this seemed to be the only +available spot; besides, Austin was hungry, and he said so. + +Nina, with Selwyn on her left, looked around for Gerald and Lansing. +When the latter came sauntering up, Austin questioned him, but he +replied carelessly that Gerald had gone to join some people whom he, +Lansing, did not know very well. + +"Why, there he is now!" exclaimed Eileen, catching sight of her brother +seated among a very noisy group on the outer edge of the illuminated +zone. "Who are those people, Nina? Oh! Rosamund Fane is there, too; +and--and--" + +She ceased speaking so abruptly that Selwyn turned around; and Nina bit +her lip in vexation and glanced at her husband. For, among the +overanimated and almost boisterous group which was attracting the +attention of everybody in the vicinity sat Mrs. Jack Ruthven. And Selwyn +saw her. + +For a moment he looked at her--looked at Gerald beside her, and Neergard +on the other side, and Rosamund opposite; and at the others, whom he had +never before seen. Then quietly, but with heightened colour, he turned +his attention to the glass which the servant had just filled for him, +and, resting his hand on the stem, stared at the bubbles crowding upward +through it to the foamy brim. + +Nina and Boots had begun, ostentatiously, an exceedingly animated +conversation; and they became almost aggressive, appealing to Austin, +who sat back with a frown on his heavy face--and to Eileen, who was +sipping her mineral water and staring thoughtfully at a big, round, +orange-tinted lantern which hung like the harvest moon behind Gerald, +throwing his curly head into silhouette. + +[Illustration: "Gerald beside her, and Neergard on the other side."] + +What conversation there was to carry, Boots and Nina carried. Austin +silently satisfied his hunger, eating and drinking with a sullen +determination to make no pretence of ignoring a situation that plainly +angered him deeply. And from minute to minute he raised his head to +glare across at Gerald, who evidently was unconscious of the presence of +his own party. + +When Nina spoke to Eileen, the girl answered briefly but with perfect +composure. Selwyn, too, added a quiet word at intervals, speaking in a +voice that sounded a little tired and strained. + +It was that note of fatigue in his voice which aroused Eileen to +effort--the instinctive move to protect--to sustain him. Conscious of +Austin's suppressed but increasing anger at her brother, amazed and +distressed at what Gerald had done--for the boy's very presence there +was an affront to them all--she was still more sensitive to Selwyn's +voice; and in her heart she responded passionately. + +Nina looked up, surprised at the sudden transformation in the girl, who +had turned on Boots with a sudden flow of spirits and the gayest of +challenges; and their laughter and badinage became so genuine and so +persistent that, combining with Nina, they fairly swept Austin from his +surly abstraction into their toils; and Selwyn's subdued laugh, if +forced, sounded pleasantly, now, and his drawn face seemed to relax a +little for the time being. + +Once she turned, under cover of the general conversation which she had +set going, and looked straight into Selwyn's eyes, flashing to him a +message of purest loyalty; and his silent gaze in response sent the +colour flying to her cheeks. + +It was all very well for a while--a brave, sweet effort; but ears could +not remain deaf to the increasing noise and laughter--to familiar +voices, half-caught phrases, indiscreet even in the fragments +understood. Besides, Gerald had seen them, and the boy's face had become +almost ghastly. + +Alixe, unusually flushed, was conducting herself without restraint; +Neergard's snickering laugh grew more significant and persistent; even +Rosamund spoke too loudly at moments; and once she looked around at Nina +and Selwyn while her pretty, accentless laughter, rippling with its +undertone of malice, became more frequent in the increasing tumult. + +There was no use in making a pretence of further gaiety. Austin had +begun to scowl again; Nina, with one shocked glance at Alixe, leaned +over toward her brother: + +"It is incredible!" she murmured; "she must be perfectly mad to make +such an exhibition of herself. Can't anybody stop her? Can't anybody +send her home?" + +Austin said sullenly but distinctly: "The thing for us to do is to get +out. . . . Nina--if you are ready--" + +"But--but what about Gerald?" faltered Eileen, turning piteously to +Selwyn. "We can't leave him--there!" + +The man straightened up and turned his drawn face toward her: + +"Do you wish me to get him?" + +"Y-you can't do that--can you?" + +"Yes, I can; if you wish it. Do you think there is anything in the world +I can't do, if you wish it?" + +As he rose she laid her hand on his arm: + +"I--I don't ask it--" she began. + +"You do not have to ask it," he said with a smile almost genuine. +"Austin, I'm going to get Gerald--and Nina will explain to you that +he's to be left to me if any sermon is required. I'll go back with him +in the motor-boat. Boots, you'll drive home in my place." + +As he turned, still smiling and self-possessed, Eileen whispered +rapidly: "Don't go. I care for you too much to ask it." + +He said under his breath: "Dearest, you cannot understand." + +"Yes--I do! Don't go. Philip--don't go near--her--" + +"I must." + +"If you do--if you go--h-how can you c-care for me as you say you +do?--when I ask you not to--when I cannot endure--to--" + +She turned swiftly and stared across at Alixe; and Alixe, unsteady in +the flushed brilliancy of her youthful beauty, half rose in her seat and +stared back. + +Instinctively the young girl's hand tightened on Selwyn's arm: "She--she +is beautiful!" she faltered; but he turned and led her from the table, +following Austin, his sister, and Lansing; and she clung to him almost +convulsively when he halted on the edge of the lawn. + +"I must go back," he whispered--"dearest--dearest--I must." + +"T-to Gerald? Or--_her_?" + +But he only muttered: "They don't know what they're doing. Let me go, +Eileen"--gently detaching her fingers, which left her hands lying in +both of his. + +She said, looking up at him: "If you go--if you go--whatever time you +return--no matter what hour--knock at my door. Do you promise? I shall +be awake. Do you promise?" + +"Yes," he said with a trace of impatience--the only hint of his anger at +the prospect of the duty before him. + +So she went away with Nina and Austin and Boots; and Selwyn turned back, +sauntering quietly toward the table where already the occupants had +apparently forgotten him and the episode in the riotous gaiety +increasing with the accession of half a dozen more men. + +When Selwyn approached, Neergard saw him first, stared at him, and +snickered; but he greeted everybody with smiling composure, nodding to +those he knew--a trifle more formally to Mrs. Ruthven--and, coolly +pulling up a chair, seated himself beside Gerald. + +"Boots has driven home with the others," he said in a low voice; "I'm +going back in the motor-boat with you. Don't worry about Austin. Are you +ready?" + +The boy had evidently let the wine alone, or else fright had sobered +him, for he looked terribly white and tired: "Yes," he said, "I'll go +when you wish. I suppose they'll never forgive me for this. Come on." + +"One moment, then," nodded Selwyn; "I want to speak to Mrs. Ruthven." +And, quietly turning to Alixe, and dropping his voice to a tone too low +for Neergard to hear--for he was plainly attempting to listen: + +"You are making a mistake; do you understand? Whoever is your +hostess--wherever you are staying--find her and go there before it is +too late." + +She inclined her pretty head thoughtfully, eyes on the wine-glass which +she was turning round and round between her slender fingers. "What do +you mean by 'too late'?" she asked. "Don't you know that everything is +too late for me now?" + +"What do _you_ mean, Alixe?" he returned, watching her intently. + +"What I say. I have not seen Jack Ruthven for two months. Do you know +what that means? I have not heard from him for two months. Do you know +what _that_ means? No? Well, I'll tell you, Philip; it means that when I +do hear from him it will be through his attorneys." + +He turned slightly paler: "Why"?" + +"Divorce," she said with a reckless little laugh--"and the end of things +for me." + +"On what grounds?" he demanded doggedly. "Does he threaten you?" + +She made no movement or reply, reclining there, one hand on her +wine-glass, the smile still curving her lips. And he repeated his +question in a low, distinct voice--too low for Neergard to hear; and he +was still listening. + +"Grounds? Oh, he thinks I've misbehaved with--never mind who. It is not +true--but he cares nothing about that, either. You see"--and she bent +nearer, confidentially, with a mysterious little nod of her pretty +head--"you see, Jack Ruthven is a little insane. . . . You are +surprised? Pooh! I've suspected it for months." + +He stared at her; then: "Where are you stopping?" + +"Aboard the _Niobrara_." + +"Is Mrs. Fane a guest there, too?" + +He spoke loud enough for Rosamund to hear; and she answered for herself +with a smile at him, brimful of malice: + +"Delighted to have you come aboard, Captain Selwyn. Is that what you are +asking permission to do?" + +"Thanks," he returned dryly; and to Alixe: "If you are ready, Gerald and +I will take you over to the _Niobrara_ in the motor-boat--" + +"Oh, no, you won't!" broke in Neergard with a sneer--"you'll mind your +own business, my intrusive friend, and I'll take care of my guests +without your assistance." + +Selwyn appeared not to hear him: "Come on, Gerald," he said pleasantly; +"Mrs. Ruthven is going over to the _Niobrara_--" + +"For God's sake," whispered Gerald, white as a sheet, "don't force me +into trouble with Neergard." + +Selwyn turned on him an astonished gaze: "Are you _afraid_ of that +whelp?" + +"Yes," muttered the boy--"I--I'll explain later. But don't force things +now, I beg you." + +Mrs. Ruthven coolly leaned over and spoke to Gerald in a low voice; +then, to Selwyn, she said with a smile: "Rosamund and I are going to +Brookminster, anyway, so you and Gerald need not wait. . . . And thank +you for coming over. It was rather nice of you"--she glanced insolently +at Neergard--"considering the crowd we're with. _Good_-night, Captain +Selwyn! _Good_-night, Gerald. So very jolly to have seen you again!" +And, under her breath to Selwyn: "You need not worry; I am going in a +moment. Good-bye and--thank you, Phil. It _is_ good to see somebody of +one's own caste again." + +A few moments later, Selwyn and Gerald in their oilskins were dashing +eastward along the coast in the swiftest motor-boat south of the +Narrows. + + * * * * * + +The boy seemed deathly tired as they crossed the dim lawn at Silverside. +Once, on the veranda steps he stumbled, and Selwyn's arm sustained him; +but the older man forbore to question him, and Gerald, tight-lipped and +haggard, offered no confidence until, at the door of his bedroom, he +turned and laid an unsteady hand on Selwyn's shoulder: "I want to talk +with you--to-morrow. May I?" + +"You know you may, Gerald. I am always ready to stand your friend." + +"I know. . . . I must have been crazy to doubt it. You are very good to +me. I--I am in a very bad fix. I've got to tell you." + +"Then we'll get you out of it, old fellow," said Selwyn cheerfully. +"That's what friends are for, too." + +The boy shivered--looked at the floor, then, without raising his eyes, +said good-night, and, entering his bedroom, closed the door. + +As Selwyn passed back along the corridor, the door of his sister's room +opened, and Austin and Nina confronted him. + +"Has that damfool boy come in?" demanded his brother-in-law, anxiety +making his voice tremulous under its tone of contempt. + +"Yes. Leave him to me, please. Good-night"--submitting to a tender +embrace from his sister--"I suppose Eileen has retired, hasn't she? It's +an ungodly hour--almost sunrise." + +"I don't know whether Eileen is asleep," said Nina; "she expected a word +with you, I understand. But don't sit up--don't let her sit up late. +We'll be a company of dreadful wrecks at breakfast, anyway." + +And his sister gently closed the door while he continued on to the end +of the corridor and halted before Eileen's room. A light came through +the transom; he waited a moment, then knocked very softly. + +"Is it you?" she asked in a low voice. + +"Yes. I didn't wake you, did I?" + +"No. Is Gerald here?" + +"Yes, in his own room. . . . Did you wish to speak to me about +anything?" + +"Yes." + +He heard her coming to the door; it opened a very little. "Good-night," +she whispered, stretching toward him her hand--"that was all I +wanted--to--to touch you before I closed my eyes to-night." + +He bent and looked at the hand lying within his own--the little hand +with its fresh fragrant palm upturned and the white fingers relaxed, +drooping inward above it--at the delicate bluish vein in the smooth +wrist. + +Then he released the hand, untouched by his lips; and she withdrew it +and closed the door; and he heard her laugh softly, and lean against it, +whispering: + +"Now that I am safely locked in--I merely wish to say that--in the old +days--a lady's hand was sometimes--kissed. . . . Oh, but you are too +late, my poor friend! I can't come out; and I wouldn't if I could--not +after what I dared to say to you. . . . In fact, I shall probably remain +locked up here for days and days. . . . Besides, what I said is out of +fashion--has no significance nowadays--or, perhaps, too much. . . . No, +I won't dress and come out--even for you. _Je me deshabille--je fais ma +toilette de nuit, monsieur--et je vais maintenant m'agenouiller et faire +ma priere. Donc--bon soir--et bonne nuit_--" + +And, too low for him to hear even the faintest breathing whisper of her +voice--"Good-night. I love you with all my heart--with all my heart--in +my own fashion." + + * * * * * + +He had been asleep an hour, perhaps more, when something awakened him, +and he found himself sitting bolt upright in bed, dawn already +whitening his windows. + +Somebody was knocking. He swung out of bed, stepped into his +bath-slippers, and, passing swiftly to the door, opened it. Gerald stood +there, fully dressed. + +"I'm going to town on the early train," began the boy--"I thought I'd +tell you--" + +"Nonsense! Gerald, go back to bed!" + +"I can't sleep, Philip--" + +"Can't sleep? Oh, that's the trouble, is it? Well, then, sit here and +talk to me." He gave a mighty yawn--"I'm not sleepy, either; I can go +days without it. Here!--here's a comfortable chair to sprawl in. . . . +It's daylight already; doesn't the morning air smell sweet? I've a jug +of milk and some grapes and peaches in my ice-cupboard if you feel +inclined. No? All right; stretch out, sight for a thousand yards, and +fire at will." + +Gerald strove to smile; for a while he lay loosely in the arm-chair, his +listless eyes intent on the strange, dim light which fell across the +waste of sea fog. Only the water along the shore's edge remained +visible; all else was a blank wall behind which, stretching to the +horizon, lay the unseen ocean. Already a few restless gulls were on the +wing, sheering inland; and their raucous, treble cries accented the +pallid stillness. + +But the dawn was no paler than the boy's face--no more desolate. Trouble +was his, the same old trouble that has dogged the trail of folly since +time began; and Selwyn knew it and waited. + +At last the boy broke out: "This is a cowardly trick--this slinking in +to you with all my troubles after what you've done for me--after the +rotten way I've treated you--" + +"Look here, my boy!" said Selwyn coolly, crossing one knee over the +other and dropping both hands into the pockets of his pajamas--"I asked +you to come to me, didn't I? Well, then; don't criticise my judgment in +doing it. It isn't likely I'd ask you to do a cowardly thing." + +"You don't understand what a wretched scrape I'm in--" + +"I don't yet; but you're going to tell me--" + +"Philip, I can't--I simply cannot. It's so contemptible--and you warned +me--and I owe you already so much--" + +"You owe me a little money," observed Selwyn with a careless smile, "and +you've a lifetime to pay it in. What is the trouble now; do you need +more? I haven't an awful lot, old fellow--worse luck!--but what I have +is at your call--as you know perfectly well. Is that all that is +worrying you?" + +"No--not all. I--Neergard has lent me money--done things--placed me +under obligations. . . . I liked him, you know; I trusted him. . . . +People he desired to know I made him known to. He was a--a trifle +peremptory at times--as though my obligations to him left me no choice +but to take him to such people as he desired to meet. . . . We--we had +trouble--recently." + +"What sort?" + +"Personal. I felt--began to feel--the pressure on me. There was, at +moments, something almost of menace in his requests and suggestions--an +importunity I did not exactly understand. . . . And then he said +something to me--" + +"Go on; what?" + +"He'd been hinting at it before; and even when I found him jolliest and +most amusing and companionable I never thought of him as a--a social +possibility--I mean among those who really count--like my own people--" + +"Oh! he asked you to introduce him into your own family circle?" + +"Yes--I didn't understand it at first--until somehow I began to feel the +pressure of it--the vague but constant importunity. . . . He was a good +fellow--at least I thought so; I hated to hurt him--to assume any +attitude that might wound him. But, good heavens!--he couldn't seem to +understand that nobody in our family would receive him--although he had +a certain footing with the Fanes and Harmons and a few others--like the +Siowitha people--or at least the men of those families. Don't you see, +Philip?" + +"Yes, my boy, I see. Go on! When did he ask to be presented to--your +sister?" + +"W-who told you that?" asked the boy with an angry flush. + +"You did--almost. You were going to, anyway. So that was it, was it? +That was when you realised a few things--understood one or two things; +was it not? . . . And how did you reply? Arrogantly, I suppose." + +"Yes." + +"With--a--some little show of--a--contempt?" + +"Yes, I suppose so." + +"Exactly. And Neergard--was put out--slightly?" + +"Yes," said the boy, losing some of his colour. "I--a moment afterward I +was sorry I had spoken so plainly; but I need not have been. . . . He +was very ugly about it." + +"Threats of calling loans?" asked Selwyn, smiling. + +"Hints; not exactly threats. I was in a bad way, too--" The boy winced +and swallowed hard; then, with sudden white desperation stamped on his +drawn face: "Oh, Philip--it--it is disgraceful enough--but how am I +going to tell you the rest?--how can I speak of this matter to you--" + +"What matter?" + +"A--about--about Mrs. Ruthven--" + +"_What_ matter?" repeated Selwyn. His voice rang a little, but the +colour had fled from his face. + +"She was--Jack Ruthven charged her with--and me--charged me with--" + +"_You_!" + +"Yes." + +"Well--it was a lie, wasn't it?" Selwyn's ashy lips scarcely moved, but +his eyes were narrowing to a glimmer. "It was a lie, wasn't it?" he +repeated. + +"Yes--a lie. I'd say it, anyway, you understand--but it really was a +lie." + +Selwyn quietly leaned back in his chair; a little colour returned to his +cheeks. + +"All right--old fellow"--his voice scarcely quivered--"all right; go on. +I knew, of course, that Ruthven lied, but it was part of the story to +hear you say so. Go on. What did Ruthven do?" + +"There has been a separation," said the boy in a low voice. "He behaved +like a dirty cad--she had no resources--no means of support--" He +hesitated, moistening his dry lips with his tongue. "Mrs. Ruthven has +been very, very kind to me. I was--I am fond of her; oh, I know well +enough I never had any business to meet her; I behaved abominably toward +you--and the family. But it was done; I knew her, and liked her +tremendously. She was the only one who was decent to me--who tried to +keep me from acting like a fool about cards--" + +_Did_ she try?" + +"Yes--indeed, yes! . . . and, Phil--she--I don't know how to say it--but +she--when she spoke of--of you--begged me to try to be like you. . . . +And it is a lie what people say about her!--what gossip says. I know; I +have known her so well--and--I was like other men--charmed and +fascinated by her; but the women of that set are a pack of cats, and the +men--well, none of them ever ventured to say anything to me! . . . And +that is all, Philip. I was horribly in debt to Neergard; then Ruthven +turned on me--and on her; and I borrowed more from Neergard and went to +her bank and deposited it to the credit of her account--but she doesn't +know it was from me--she supposes Jack Ruthven did it out of ordinary +decency, for she said so to me. And that is how matters stand; Neergard +is ugly, and grows more threatening about those loans--and I haven't any +money, and Mrs. Ruthven will require more very soon--" + +"Is that _all_?" demanded Selwyn sharply. + +"Yes--all. . . . I know I have behaved shamefully--" + +"I've seen," observed Selwyn in a dry, hard voice, "worse behaviour than +yours. . . . Have you a pencil, Gerald? Get a sheet of paper from that +desk. Now, write out a list of the loans made you by Neergard. . . . +Every cent, if you please. . . . And the exact amount you placed to Mrs. +Ruthven's credit. . . . Have you written that? Let me see it." + +The boy handed him the paper. He studied it without the slightest change +of expression--knowing all the while what it meant to him; knowing that +this burden must be assumed by himself because Austin would never +assume it. + +And he sat there staring at space over the top of the pencilled sheet of +paper, striving to find some help in the matter. But he knew Austin; he +knew what would happen to Gerald if, after the late reconciliation with +his ex-guardian, he came once more to him with such a confession of debt +and disgrace. + +No; Austin must be left out; there were three things to do: One of them +was to pay Neergard; another to sever Gerald's connection with him for +ever; and the third thing to be done was something which did not concern +Gerald or Austin--perhaps, not even Ruthven. It was to be done, no +matter what the cost. But the thought of the cost sent a shiver over +him, and left his careworn face gray. + +His head sank; he fixed his narrowing eyes on the floor and held them +there, silent, unmoved, while within the tempests of terror, temptation, +and doubt assailed him, dragging at the soul of him, where it clung +blindly to its anchorage. And it held fast--raging, despairing in the +bitterness of renunciation, but still held on through the most dreadful +tempest that ever swept him. Courage, duty, reparation--the words +drummed in his brain, stupefying him with their dull clamour; but he +understood and listened, knowing the end--knowing that the end must +always be the same for him. It was the revolt of instinct against +drilled and ingrained training, inherited and re-schooled--the insurgent +clamour of desire opposed to that stern self-repression characteristic +of generations of Selwyns, who had held duty important enough to follow, +even when their bodies died in its wake. + +And it were easier for him, perhaps, if his body died. + +He rose and walked to the window. Over the Bay of Shoals the fog was +lifting; and he saw the long gray pier jutting northward--the pier where +the troopships landed their dead and dying when the Spanish war was +ended. + +And he looked at the hill where the field hospital had once been. His +brother died there--in the wake of that same duty which no Selwyn could +ignore. + +After a moment he turned to Gerald, a smile on his colourless face: + +"It will be all right, my boy. You are not to worry--do you understand +me? Go to bed, now; you need the sleep. Go to bed, I tell you--I'll +stand by you. You must begin all over again, Gerald--and so must I; and +so must I." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LEX NON SCRIPTA + + +Selwyn had gone to New York with Gerald, "for a few days," as he +expressed it; but it was now the first week in October, and he had not +yet returned to Silverside. + +A brief note to Nina thanking her for having had him at Silverside, and +speaking vaguely of some business matters which might detain him +indefinitely--a briefer note to Eileen regretting his inability to +return for the present--were all the communication they had from him +except news brought by Austin, who came down from town every Friday. + +A long letter to him from Nina still remained unanswered; Austin had +seen him only once in town; Lansing, now back in New York, wrote a +postscript in a letter to Drina, asking for Selwyn's new address--the +first intimation anybody had that he had given up his lodgings on +Lexington Avenue. + +"I was perfectly astonished to find he had gone, leaving no address," +wrote Boots; "and nobody knows anything about him at his clubs. I have +an idea that he may have gone to Washington to see about the Chaosite +affair; but if you have any address except his clubs, please send it to +me." + +Eileen had not written him; his sudden leave-taking nearly a month ago +had so astounded her that she could not believe he meant to be gone +more than a day or two. Then came his note, written at the Patroons' +Club--very brief, curiously stilted and formal, with a strange tone of +finality through it, as though he were taking perfunctory leave of +people who had come temporarily into his life, and as though the chances +were agreeably even of his ever seeing them again. + +The girl was not hurt, as yet; she remained merely confused, +incredulous, unreconciled. That there was to be some further explanation +of his silence she never dreamed of doubting; and there seemed to be +nothing to do in the interval but await it. As for writing him, some +instinct forbade it, even when Nina suggested that she write, adding +laughingly that nothing else seemed likely to stir her brother. + +For the first few days the children clamoured intermittently for him; +but children forget, and Billy continued to cast out his pack in undying +hope of a fox or bunny, and the younger children brought their +butterfly-nets and sand-shovels to Austin and Nina for repairs; and +Drina, when Boots deserted her for his Air Line Company, struck up a +wholesome and lively friendship with a dozen subfreshmen and the younger +Orchil girls, and began to play golf like a little fiend. + +It was possible, now, to ride cross-country; and Nina, who was always in +terror of an added ounce to her perfect figure, rode every day with +Eileen; and Austin, on a big hunter, joined them two days in the week. + +There were dances, too, and Nina went to some of them. So did Eileen, +who had created a furor among the younger brothers and undergraduates; +and the girl was busy enough with sailing and motoring and dashing +through the Sound in all sorts of power boats. + +Once, under Austin's and young Craig's supervision, she tried +shore-bird shooting; but the first broken wing from the gun on her left +settled the thing for ever for her, and the horror of the +blood-sprinkled, kicking mass of feathers haunted her dreams for a week. + +Youths, however, continued to hover numerously about her. They sat in +soulful rows upon the veranda at Silverside; they played guitars at her +in canoes, accompanying the stringy thrumming with the peculiarly +exasperating vocal noises made only by very young undergraduates; they +rode with her and Nina; they pervaded her vicinity with a tireless +constancy amounting to obsession. + +She liked it well enough; she was as interested in everything as usual; +as active at the nets, playing superbly, and with all her heart in the +game--while it lasted; she swung her slim brassy with all the old-time +fire and satisfaction in the clean, sharp whack, as the ball flew +through the sunshine, rising beautifully in a long, low trajectory +against the velvet fair-green. + +It was unalloyed happiness for her to sit her saddle, feeling under her +the grand stride of her powerful hunter on a headlong cross-country +gallop; it was purest pleasure for her to lean forward in her oilskins, +her eyes almost blinded with salt spray, while the low motor-boat rushed +on and on through cataracts of foam, and the heaving, green sea-miles +fled away, away, in the hissing furrow of the wake. + +Truly, for her, the world was still green, the sun bright, the high sky +blue; but she had not forgotten that the earth had been greener, the sun +brighter, the azure above her more splendid--once upon a time--like the +first phrase of a tale that is told. And if she were at times listless, +absent-eyed, subdued--a trifle graver, or unusually silent, seeking the +still paths of the garden as though in need of youthful meditation and +the quiet of the sunset hour, she never doubted that that tale would be +retold for her again. Only--alas!--the fair days were passing, and the +russet rustle of October sounded already among the curling leaves in the +garden; and he had been away a long time--a very long time. And she +could not understand. + +On one of Austin's week-end visits, the hour for conjugal confab having +arrived and husband and wife locked in the seclusion of their +bedroom--being old-fashioned enough to occupy the same--he said, with a +trace of irritation in his voice: + +"I don't know where Phil is, or what he's about. I'm wondering--he's got +the Selwyn conscience, you know--what he's up to--and if it's any kind +of dam-foolishness. Haven't you heard a word from him, Nina?" + +Nina, in her pretty night attire, had emerged from her dressing-room, +locked out Kit-Ki and her maid, and had curled up in a big, soft +armchair, cradling her bare ankles in her hand. + +"I haven't heard from him," she said. "Rosamund saw him in +Washington--passed him on the street. He was looking horridly thin and +worn, she wrote. He did not see her." + +"Now what in the name of common sense is he doing in Washington!" +exclaimed Austin wrathfully. "Probably breaking his heart because nobody +cares to examine his Chaosite. I told him, as long as he insisted on +bothering the Government with it instead of making a deal with the Lawn +people, that I'd furnish him with a key to the lobby. I told him I knew +the right people, could get him the right lawyers, and start the thing +properly. Why didn't he come to me about it? There's only one way to +push such things, and he's as ignorant of it as a boatswain in the +marine cavalry." + +Nina said thoughtfully: "You always were impatient of people, dear. +Perhaps Phil may get them to try his Chaosite without any wire-pulling. +. . . I do wish he'd write. I can't understand his continued silence. +Hasn't Boots heard from him? Hasn't Gerald?" + +"Not a word. And by the way, Nina, Gerald has done rather an unexpected +thing. I saw him last night; he came to the house and told me that he +had just severed his connection with Julius Neergard's company." + +"I'm glad of it!" exclaimed Nina; "I'm glad he showed the good sense to +do it!" + +"Well--yes. As a matter of fact, Neergard is going to be a very rich man +some day; and Gerald might have--But I am not displeased. What appeals +to me is the spectacle of the boy acting with conviction on his own +initiative. Whether or not he is making a mistake has nothing to do with +the main thing, and that is that Gerald, for the first time in his +rather colourless career, seems to have developed the rudiments of a +backbone out of the tail which I saw so frequently either flourishing +defiance at me or tucked sullenly between his hind legs. I had quite a +talk with him last night; he behaved very decently, and with a certain +modesty which may, one day, develop into something approaching dignity. +We spoke of his own affairs--in which, for the first time, he appeared +to take an intelligent interest. Besides that, he seemed willing enough +to ask my judgment in several matters--a radical departure from his cub +days." + +"What are you going to do for him, dear?" asked his wife, rather +bewildered at the unexpected news. "Of course he must go into some sort +of business again--" + +"Certainly. And, to my astonishment, he actually came and solicited my +advice. I--I was so amazed, Nina, that I could scarcely credit my own +senses. I managed to say that I'd think it over. Of course he can, if he +chooses, begin everything again and come in with me. Or--if I am +satisfied that he has any ability--he can set up some sort of a +real-estate office on his own hook. I could throw a certain amount of +business in his way--but it's all in the air, yet. I'll see him Monday, +and we'll have another talk. By gad! Nina," he added, with a flush of +half-shy satisfaction on his ruddy face, "it's--it's almost like having +a grown-up son coming bothering me with his affairs; ah--rather +agreeable than otherwise. There's certainly something in that boy. +I--perhaps I have been, at moments, a trifle impatient. But I did not +mean to be. You know that, dear, don't you?" + +His wife looked up at her big husband in quiet amusement. "Oh, yes! I +know a little about you," she said, "and a little about Gerald, too. He +is only a masculine edition of Eileen--the irresponsible freedom of life +brought out all his faults at once, like a horrid rash; it's due to the +masculine notion of masculine education. His sister's education was +essentially the contrary: humours were eradicated before first symptoms +became manifest. The moral, mental, and physical drilling and schooling +was undertaken and accepted without the slightest hope--and later +without the slightest desire--for any relaxation of the rigour when she +became of age and mistress of herself. That's the difference: a boy +looks forward to the moment when he can flourish his heels and wag his +ears and bray; a girl has no such prospect. Gerald has brayed; Eileen +never will flourish her heels unless she becomes fashionable after +marriage--which isn't very likely--" + +Nina hesitated, another idea intruding. + +"By the way, Austin; the Orchil boy--the one in Harvard--proposed to +Eileen--the little idiot! She told me--thank goodness! she still does +tell me things. Also the younger and chubbier Draymore youth has offered +himself--after a killingly proper interview with me. I thought it might +amuse you to hear of it." + +"It might amuse me more if Eileen would get busy and bring Philip into +camp," observed her husband. "And why the devil they don't make up their +minds to it is beyond me. That brother of yours is the limit sometimes. +I'm fond of him--you know it--but he certainly can be the limit +sometimes." + +"Do you know," said Nina, "that I believe he is in love with her?" + +"Then, why doesn't--" + +"I don't know. I was sure--I am sure now--that the girl cares more for +him than for anybody. And yet--and yet I don't believe she is actually +in love with him. Several times I supposed she was--or near it, anyway. +. . . But they are a curious pair, Austin--so quaint about it; so slow +and old-fashioned. . . . And the child is the most innocent being--in +some ways. . . . Which is all right unless she becomes one of those +pokey, earnest, knowledge-absorbing young things with the very germ of +vitality dried up and withered in her before she awakens. . . . I don't +know--I really don't. For a girl _must_ have something of the human +about her to attract a man, and be attracted. . . . Not that she need +know anything about love--or even suspect it. But there must be some +response in her, some--some--" + +"Deviltry?" suggested Austin. + +His pretty wife laughed and dropped one knee over the other, leaning +back to watch him finish his good-night cigarette. After a moment her +face grew grave, and she bent forward. + +"Speaking of Rosamund a moment ago reminds me of something else she +wrote--it's about Alixe. Have you heard anything?" + +"Not a word," said Austin, with a frank scowl, "and don't want to." + +"It's only this--that Alixe is ill. Nobody seems to know what the matter +is; nobody has seen her. But she's at Clifton, with a couple of nurses, +and Rosamund heard rumours that she is very ill indeed. . . . People go +to Clifton for shattered nerves, you know." + +"Yes; for bridge-fidgets, neurosis, pip, and the various jumps that +originate in the simpler social circles. What's the particular matter +with her? Too many cocktails? Or a dearth of grand slams?" + +"You are brutal, Austin. Besides, I don't know. She's had a perfectly +dreary life with her husband. . . . I--I can't forget how fond I was of +her in spite of what she did to Phil. . . . Besides, I'm beginning to be +certain that it was not entirely her fault." + +"What? Do you think Phil--" + +"No, no, no! Don't be an utter idiot. All I mean to say is that Alixe +was always nervous and high-strung; odd at times; eccentric--_more_ than +merely eccentric--" + +"You mean dippy?" + +"Oh, Austin, you're horrid. I mean that there is mental trouble in that +family. You have heard of it as well as I; you know her father died of +it--" + +"The usual defence in criminal cases," observed Austin, flicking his +cigarette-end into the grate. "I'm sorry, dear, that Alixe has the +jumps; hope she'll get over 'em. But as for pretending I've any use for +her, I can't and don't and won't. She spoiled life for the best man I +know; she kicked his reputation into a cocked hat, and he, with his +chivalrous Selwyn conscience, let her do it. I did like her once; I +don't like her now, and that's natural and it winds up the matter. Dear +friend, shall we, perhaps, to bed presently our way wend--yess?" + +"Yes, dear; but you are not very charitable about Alixe. And I tell +you I've my own ideas about her illness--especially as she is at +Clifton. . . . I wonder where her little beast of a husband is?" + +But Austin only yawned and looked at the toes of his slippers, and then +longingly at the pillows. + + * * * * * + +Had Nina known it, the husband of Mrs. Ruthven, whom she had +characterised so vividly, was at that very moment seated in a private +card-room at the Stuyvesant Club with Sanxon Orchil, George Fane, and +Bradley Harmon; and the game had been bridge, as usual, and had gone +very heavily against him. + +Several things had gone against Mr. Ruthven recently; for one thing, he +was beginning to realise that he had made a vast mistake in mixing +himself up in any transactions with Neergard. + +When he, at Neergard's cynical suggestion, had consented to exploit his +own club--the Siowitha--and had consented to resign from it to do so, he +had every reason to believe that Neergard meant to either mulct them +heavily or buy them out. In either case, having been useful to Neergard, +his profits from the transaction would have been considerable. + +But, even while he was absorbed in figuring them up--and he needed the +money, as usual--Neergard coolly informed him of his election to the +club, and Ruthven, thunder-struck, began to perceive the depth of the +underground mole tunnels which Neergard had dug to undermine and capture +the stronghold which had now surrendered to him. + +Rage made him ill for a week; but there was nothing to do about it. He +had been treacherous to his club and to his own caste, and Neergard knew +it--and knew perfectly well that Ruthven dared not protest--dared not +even whimper. + +Then Neergard began to use Ruthven when he needed him; and he began to +permit himself to win at cards in Ruthven's house--a thing he had not +dared to do before. He also permitted himself more ease and freedom in +that house--a sort of intimacy _sans facon_--even a certain jocularity. +He also gave himself the privilege of inviting the Ruthvens on board the +_Niobrara_; and Ruthven went, furious at being forced to stamp with his +open approval an episode which made Neergard a social probability. + +How it happened that Rosamund divined something of the situation is not +quite clear; but she always had a delicate nose for anything not +intended for her, and the thing amused her immensely, particularly +because what viciousness had been so long suppressed in Neergard was now +tentatively making itself apparent in his leering ease among women he so +recently feared. + +This, also, was gall and wormwood to Ruthven, so long the official +lap-dog of the very small set he kennelled with; and the women of that +set were perverse enough to find Neergard amusing, and his fertility in +contriving new extravagances for them interested these people, whose +only interest had always been centred in themselves. + +Meanwhile, Neergard had almost finished with Gerald--he had only one +further use for him; and as his social success became more pronounced +with the people he had crowded in among, he became bolder and more +insolent, no longer at pains to mole-tunnel toward the object desired, +no longer overcareful about his mask. And one day he asked the boy very +plainly why he had never invited him to meet his sister. And he got an +answer that he never forgot. + +And all the while Ruthven squirmed under the light but steadily +inflexible pressure of the curb which Neergard had slipped on him so +deftly; he had viewed with indifference Gerald's boyish devotion to his +wife, which was even too open and naive to be of interest to those who +witnessed it. But he had not counted on Neergard's sudden hatred of +Gerald; and the first token of that hatred fell upon the boy like a +thunderbolt when Neergard whispered to Ruthven, one night at the +Stuyvesant Club, and Ruthven, exasperated, had gone straight home, to +find his wife in tears, and the boy clumsily attempting to comfort her, +both her hands in his. + +"Perhaps," said Ruthven coldly, "you have some plausible explanation for +this sort of thing. If you haven't, you'd better trump up one together, +and I'll send you my attorney to hear it. In that event," he added, +"you'd better leave your joint address when you find a more convenient +house than mine." + +As a matter of fact, he had really meant nothing more than the threat +and the insult, the situation permitting him a heavier hold upon his +wife and a new grip on Gerald in case he ever needed him; but threat and +insult were very real to the boy, and he knocked Mr. Ruthven flat on his +back--the one thing required to change that gentleman's pretence to +deadly earnest. + +Ruthven scrambled to his feet; Gerald did it again; and, after that, Mr. +Ruthven prudently remained prone during the delivery of a terse but +concise opinion of him expressed by Gerald. + +After Gerald had gone, Ruthven opened first one eye, then the other, +then his mouth, and finally sat up; and his wife, who had been curiously +observing him, smiled. + +"It is strange," she said serenely, "that I never thought of that +method. I wonder why I never thought of it," lazily stretching her firm +young arms and glancing casually at their symmetry and smooth-skinned +strength. "Go into your own quarters," she added, as he rose, shaking +with fury: "I've endured the last brutality I shall ever suffer from +you." + +She dropped her folded hands into her lap, gazing coolly at him; but +there was a glitter in her eyes which arrested his first step toward +her. + +"I think," she said, "that you mean my ruin. Well, we began it long ago, +and I doubt if I have anything of infamy to learn, thanks to my thorough +schooling as your wife. . . . But knowledge is not necessarily practice, +and it happens that I have not cared to commit the particular +indiscretion so fashionable among the friends you have surrounded me +with. I merely mention this for your information, not because I am +particularly proud of it. It is not anything to be proud of, in my +case--it merely happened so; a matter, perhaps of personal taste, +perhaps because of lack of opportunity; and there is a remote +possibility that belated loyalty to a friend I once betrayed may have +kept me personally chaste in this rotting circus circle you have driven +me around in, harnessed to your vicious caprice, dragging the weight of +your corruption--" + +She laughed. "I had no idea that I could be so eloquent, Jack. But my +mind has become curiously clear during the last year--strangely and +unusually limpid and precise. Why, my poor friend, every plot of yours +and of your friends--every underhand attempt to discredit and injure me +has been perfectly apparent to me. You supposed that my headaches, my +outbursts of anger, my wretched nights, passed in tears--and the long, +long days spent kneeling in the ashes of dead memories--all these you +supposed had weakened--perhaps unsettled--my mind. . . . You lie if you +deny it, for you have had doctors watching me for months. . . . You +didn't know I was aware of it, did you? But I was, and I am. . . . And +you told them that my father died of--of brain trouble, you coward!" + +Still he stood there, jaw loose, gazing at her as though fascinated; and +she smiled and settled deeper in her chair, framing the gilded +foliations of the back with her beautiful arms. + +"We might as well understand one another now," she said languidly. "If +you mean to get rid of me, there is no use in attempting to couple my +name with that of any man; first, because it is untrue, and you not only +know it, but you know you can't prove it. There remains the cowardly +method you have been nerving yourself to attempt, never dreaming that I +was aware of your purpose." + +A soft, triumphant little laugh escaped her. There was something almost +childish in her delight at outwitting him, and, very slowly, into his +worn and faded eyes a new expression began to dawn--the flickering stare +of suspicion. And in it the purely personal impression of rage and +necessity of vengeance subsided; he eyed her intently, curiously, and +with a cool persistence which finally began to irritate her. + +"What a credulous fool you are," she said, "to build your hopes of a +separation on any possible mental disability of mine." + +He stood a moment without answering, then quietly seated himself. The +suspicious glimmer in his faded eyes had become the concentration of a +curiosity almost apprehensive. + +"Go on," he said; "what else?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"You have been saying several things--about doctors whom I have set to +watch you--for a year or more." + +"Do you deny it?" she retorted angrily. + +"No--no, I do not deny anything. But--who are these doctors--whom you +have noticed?" + +"I don't know who they are," she replied impatiently. "I've seen them +often enough--following me on the street, or in public places--watching +me. They are everywhere--you have them well paid, evidently; I suppose +you can afford it. But you are wasting your time." + +"You think so?" + +"Yes!" she cried in a sudden violence that startled him, "you are +wasting your time! And so am I--talking to you--enduring your personal +affronts and brutal sneers. Sufficient for you that I know my enemies, +and that I am saner, thank God, than any of them!" She flashed a look of +sudden fury at him, and rose from her chair. He also rose with a +promptness that bordered on precipitation. + +"For the remainder of the spring and summer," she said, "I shall make my +plans regardless of you. I shall not go to Newport; you are at liberty +to use the house there as you choose. And as for this incident with +Gerald, you had better not pursue it any further. Do you understand?" + +He nodded, dropping his hands into his coat-pockets. + +"Now you may go," she said coolly. + +He went--not, however, to his room, but straight to the house of the +fashionable physician who ministered to wealth with an unction and +success that had permitted him, in summer time, to occupy his own villa +at Newport and dispense further ministrations when requested. + + * * * * * + +On the night of the conjugal conference between Nina Gerard and her +husband--and almost at the same hour--Jack Ruthven, hard hit in the +card-room of the Stuyvesant Club, sat huddled over the table, figuring +up what sort of checks he was to draw to the credit of George Fane and +Sanxon Orchil. + +Matters had been going steadily against him for some time--almost +everything, in fact, except the opinions of several physicians in a +matter concerning his wife. For, in that scene between them in early +spring, his wife had put that into his head which had never before been +there--suspicion of her mental soundness. + +And now, as he sat there, pencil in hand, adding up the score-cards, he +remembered that he was to interview his attorney that evening at his own +house--a late appointment, but necessary to insure the presence of one +or two physicians at a consultation to definitely decide what course of +action might be taken. + +He had not laid eyes on his wife that summer, but for the first time he +had really had her watched during her absence. What she lived on--how +she managed--he had not the least idea, and less concern. All he knew +was that he had contributed nothing, and he was quite certain that her +balance at her own bank had been nonexistent for months. + +But any possible additional grounds for putting her away from him that +might arise in a question as to her sources of support no longer +interested him. That line of attack was unnecessary; besides, he had no +suspicion concerning her personal chastity. But Alixe, that evening in +early spring, had unwittingly suggested to him the use of a weapon the +existence of which he had never dreamed of. And he no longer entertained +any doubts of its efficiency as a means of finally ridding him of a wife +whom he had never been able to fully subdue or wholly corrupt, and who, +as a mate for him in his schemes for the pecuniary maintenance of his +household, had proven useless and almost ruinous. + +He had not seen her during the summer. In the autumn he had heard of her +conduct at Hitherwood House. And, a week later, to his astonishment, he +learned of her serious illness, and that she had been taken to Clifton. +It was the only satisfactory news he had had of her in months. + +So now he sat there at the bridge-table in the private card-room of the +Stuyvesant Club, deftly adding up the score that had gone against him, +but consoled somewhat at the remembrance of his appointment, and of the +probability of an early release from the woman who had been to him only +a source of social mistakes, domestic unhappiness, and financial +disappointment. + +When he had finished his figuring he fished out a check-book, detached a +tiny gold fountain-pen from the bunch of seals and knick-knacks on his +watch-chain, and, filling in the checks, passed them over without +comment. + +Fane rose, stretching his long neck, gazed about through his spectacles, +like a benevolent saurian, and finally fixed his mild, protruding eyes +upon Orchil. + +"There'll be a small game at the Fountain Club," he said, with a grin +which creased his cheeks until his retreating chin almost disappeared +under the thick lower lip. + +Orchil twiddled his long, crinkly, pointed moustache and glanced +interrogatively at Harmon; then he yawned, stretched his arms, and rose, +pocketing the check, which Ruthven passed to him, with a careless nod of +thanks. + +As they filed out of the card-room into the dim passageway, Orchil +leading, a tall, shadowy figure in evening dress stepped back from the +door of the card-room against the wall to give them right of way, and +Orchil, peering at him without recognition in the dull light, bowed +suavely as he passed, as did Fane, craning his curved neck, and Harmon +also, who followed in his wake. + +But when Ruthven came abreast of the figure in the passage and bowed his +way past, a low voice from the courteous unknown, pronouncing his name, +halted him short. + +"I want a word with you, Mr. Ruthven," added Selwyn; "that card-room +will suit me, if you please." + +But Ruthven, recovering from the shock of Selwyn's voice, started to +pass him without a word. + +"I said that I wanted to speak to you!" repeated Selwyn. + +Ruthven, deigning no reply, attempted to shove by him; and Selwyn, +placing one hand flat against the other's shoulder, pushed him violently +back into the card-room he had just left, and, stepping in behind him, +closed and locked the door. + +"W-what the devil do you mean!" gasped Ruthven, his hard, minutely +shaven face turning a deep red. + +"What I say," replied Selwyn; "that I want a word or two with you." + +He stood still for a moment, in the centre of the little room, tall, +gaunt of feature, and very pale. The close, smoky atmosphere of the +place evidently annoyed him; he glanced about at the scattered cards, +the empty oval bottles in their silver stands, the half-burned remains +of cigars on the green-topped table. Then he stepped over and opened the +only window. + +"Sit down," he said, turning on Ruthven; and he seated himself and +crossed one leg over the other. Ruthven remained standing. + +"This--this thing," began Ruthven in a voice made husky and indistinct +through fury, "this ruffianly behaviour amounts to assault." + +"As you choose," nodded Selwyn, almost listlessly, "but be quiet; I've +something to think of besides your convenience." + +For a few moments he sat silent, thoughtful, narrowing eyes considering +the patterns on the rug at his feet; and Ruthven, weak with rage and +apprehension, was forced to stand there awaiting the pleasure of a man +of whom he had suddenly become horribly afraid. + +And at last Selwyn, emerging from his pallid reverie, straightened out, +shaking his broad shoulders as though to free him of that black spectre +perching there. + +"Ruthven," he said, "a few years ago you persuaded my wife to leave me; +and I have never punished you. There were two reasons why I did not: the +first was because I did not wish to punish her, and any blow at you +would have reached her heavily. The second reason, subordinate to the +first, is obvious: decent men, in these days, have tacitly agreed to +suspend a violent appeal to the unwritten law as a concession to +civilisation. This second reason, however, depends entirely upon the +first, as you see." + +He leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, and recrossed his legs. + +"I did not ask you into this room," he said, with a slight smile, "to +complain of the wrong you have committed against me, or to retail to you +the consequences of your act as they may or may not have affected me and +my career; I have--ah--invited you here to explain to you the present +condition of your own domestic affairs"--he looked at Ruthven full in +the face--"to explain them to you, and to lay down for you the course of +conduct which you are to follow." + +"By God!--" began Ruthven, stepping back, one hand reaching for the +door-knob; but Selwyn's voice rang out clean and sharp: + +"Sit down!" + +And, as Ruthven glared at him out of his little eyes: + +"You'd better sit down, I think," said Selwyn softly. + +Ruthven turned, took two unsteady steps forward, and laid his heavily +ringed hand on the back of a chair. Selwyn smiled, and Ruthven sat down. + +"Now," continued Selwyn, "for certain rules of conduct to govern you +during the remainder of your wife's lifetime. . . . And your wife is +ill, Mr. Ruthven--sick of a sickness which may last for a great many +years, or may be terminated in as many days. Did you know it?" + +Ruthven snarled. + +"Yes, of course you knew it, or you suspected it. Your wife is in a +sanitarium, as you have discovered. She is mentally ill--rational at +times--violent at moments, and for long periods quite docile, gentle, +harmless--content to be talked to, read to, advised, persuaded. But +during the last week a change of a certain nature has occurred +which--which, I am told by competent physicians, not only renders her +case beyond all hope of ultimate recovery, but threatens an earlier +termination than was at first looked for. It is this: your wife has +become like a child again--occupied contentedly and quite happily with +childish things. She has forgotten much; her memory is quite gone. How +much she does remember it is impossible to say." + +His head fell; his brooding eyes were fixed again on the rug at his +feet. After a while he looked up. + +"It is pitiful, Mr. Ruthven--she is so young--with all her physical +charm and attraction quite unimpaired. But the mind is gone--quite gone, +sir. Some sudden strain--and the tension has been great for years--some +abrupt overdraft upon her mental resource, perhaps; God knows how it +came--from sorrow, from some unkindness too long endured--" + +Again he relapsed into his study of the rug; and slowly, warily, Ruthven +lifted his little, inflamed eyes to look at him, then moistened his dry +lips with a thick-coated tongue, and stole a glance at the locked door. + +"I understand," said Selwyn, looking up suddenly, "that you are +contemplating proceedings against your wife. Are you?" + +Ruthven made no reply. + +"_Are_ you?" repeated Selwyn. His face had altered; a dim glimmer played +in his eyes like the reflection of heat lightning at dusk. + +"Yes, I am," said Ruthven. + +"On the grounds of her mental incapacity?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, as I understand it, the woman whom you persuaded to break every +law, human and divine, for your sake, you now propose to abandon. Is +that it?" + +Ruthven made no reply. + +"You propose to publish her pitiable plight to the world by beginning +proceedings; you intend to notify the public of your wife's infirmity by +divorcing her." + +"Sane or insane," burst out Ruthven, "she was riding for a fall--and +she's going to get it! What the devil are you talking about? I'm not +accountable to you. I'll do what I please; I'll manage my own affairs--" + +"No," said Selwyn, "I'll manage this particular affair. And now I'll +tell you how I'm going to do it. I have in my lodgings--or rather in the +small hall bedroom which I now occupy--an army service revolver, in +fairly good condition. The cylinder was a little stiff this morning when +I looked at it, but I've oiled it with No. 27--an excellent rust solvent +and lubricant, Mr. Ruthven--and now the cylinder spins around in a +manner perfectly trustworthy. So, as I was saying, I have this very +excellent and serviceable weapon, and shall give myself the pleasure of +using it on you if you ever commence any such action for divorce or +separation against your wife. This is final." + +Ruthven stared at him as though hypnotised. + +"Don't mistake me," added Selwyn, a trifle wearily. "I am not compelling +you to decency for the purpose of punishing _you_; men never trouble +themselves to punish vermin--they simply exterminate them, or they +retreat and avoid them. I merely mean that you shall never again bring +publicity and shame upon your wife--even though now, mercifully enough, +she has not the faintest idea that you are what a complacent law calls +her husband." + +A slow blaze lighted up his eyes, and he got up from his chair. + +"You decadent little beast!" he said slowly, "do you suppose that the +dirty accident of your intrusion into an honest man's life could +dissolve the divine compact of wedlock? Soil it--yes; besmirch it, +render it superficially unclean, unfit, nauseous--yes. But neither you +nor your vile code nor the imbecile law you invoked to legalise the +situation really ever deprived me of my irrevocable status and +responsibility. . . . I--even I--was once--for a while--persuaded that +it did; that the laws of the land could do this--could free me from a +faithless wife, and regularise her position in your household. The laws +of the land say so, and I--I said so at last--persuaded because I +desired to be persuaded. . . . It was a lie. My wife, shamed or +unshamed, humbled or unhumbled, true to her marriage vows or false to +them, now legally the wife of another, has never ceased to be my wife. +And it is a higher law that corroborates me--higher than you can +understand--a law unwritten because axiomatic; a law governing the very +foundation of the social fabric, and on which that fabric is absolutely +dependent for its existence intact. But"--with a contemptuous +shrug--"you won't understand; all you can understand is the +gratification of your senses and the fear of something interfering with +that gratification--like death, for instance. Therefore I am satisfied +that you understand enough of what I said to discontinue any legal +proceedings which would tend to discredit, expose, or cast odium on a +young wife very sorely stricken--very, very ill--whom God, in his mercy, +has blinded to the infamy where you have dragged her--under the law of +the land." + +He turned on his heel, paced the little room once or twice, then swung +round again: + +"Keep your filthy money--wrung from women and boys over card-tables. +Even if some blind, wormlike process of instinct stirred the shame in +you, and you ventured to offer belated aid to the woman who bears your +name, I forbid it--I do not permit you the privilege. Except that she +retains your name--and the moment you attempt to rob her of that I shall +destroy you!--except for that, you have no further relations with +her--nothing to do or undo; no voice as to the disposal of what remains +of her; no power, no will, no influence in her fate. _I_ supplant you; I +take my own again; I reassume a responsibility temporarily taken from +me. And _now_, I think, you understand!" + +He gave him one level and deadly stare; then his pallid features +relaxed, he slowly walked past Ruthven, grave, preoccupied; unlocked the +door, and passed out. + + * * * * * + +His lodgings were not imposing in their furnishings or dimensions--a +very small bedroom in the neighbourhood of Sixth Avenue and Washington +Square--but the heavy and increasing drain on his resources permitted +nothing better now; and what with settling Gerald's complications and +providing two nurses and a private suite at Clifton for Alixe Ruthven, +he had been obliged to sell a number of securities, which reduced his +income to a figure too absurd to worry over. + +However, the Government had at last signified its intention of testing +his invention--Chaosite--and there was that chance for better things in +prospect. Also, in time, Gerald would probably be able to return +something of the loans made. But these things did not alleviate present +stringent conditions, nor were they likely to for a long while; and +Selwyn, tired and perplexed, mounted the stairs of his lodging-house and +laid his overcoat on the iron bed, and, divesting himself of the +garments of ceremony as a matter of economy, pulled on an old tweed +shooting-jacket and trousers. + +Then, lighting his pipe--cigars being now on the expensive and forbidden +list--he drew a chair to his table and sat down, resting his worn face +between both hands. Truly the world was not going very well with him in +these days. + +For some time, now, it had been his custom to face his difficulties here +in the silence of his little bedroom, seated alone at his table, pipe +gripped between his firm teeth, his strong hands framing his face. Here +he would sit for hours, the long day ended, staring steadily at the +blank wall, the gas-jet flickering overhead; and here, slowly, +painfully, with doubt and hesitation, out of the moral confusion in his +weary mind he evolved the theory of personal responsibility. + +With narrowing eyes, from which slowly doubt faded, he gazed at duty +with all the calm courage of his race, not at first recognising it as +duty in its new and dreadful guise. + +But night after night, patiently perplexed, he retraced his errant +pathway through life, back to the source of doubt and pain; and, once +arrived there, he remained, gazing with impartial eyes upon the ruin two +young souls had wrought of their twin lives; and always, always somehow, +confronting him among the debris, rose the spectre of their deathless +responsibility to one another; and the inexorable life-sentence sounded +ceaselessly in his ears: "For better or for worse--for better or for +worse--till death do us part--till death--till death!" + +Dreadful his duty--for man already had dared to sunder them, and he had +acquiesced to save her in the eyes of the world! Dreadful, +indeed--because he knew that he had never loved her, never could love +her! Dreadful--doubly dreadful--for he now knew what love might be; and +it was not what he had believed it when he executed the contract which +must bind him while life endured. + +Once, and not long since, he thought that, freed from the sad disgrace +of the shadowy past, he had begun life anew. They told him--and he told +himself--that a man had that right; that a man was no man who stood +stunned and hopeless, confronting the future in fetters of conscience. +And by that token he had accepted the argument as truth--because he +desired to believe it--and he had risen erect and shaken himself free of +the past--as he supposed; as though the past, which becomes part of us, +can be shaken from tired shoulders with the first shudder of revolt! + +No; he understood now that the past was part of him--as his limbs and +head and body and mind were part of him. It had to be reckoned +with--what he had done to himself, to the young girl united to him in +bonds indissoluble except in death. + +That she had strayed--under man-made laws held guiltless--could not +shatter the tie. That he, blinded by hope, had hoped to remake a life +already made, and had dared to masquerade before his own soul as a man +free to come, to go, and free to love, could not alter what had been +done. Back, far back of it all lay the deathless pact--for better or for +worse. And nothing man might wish or say or do could change it. Always, +always he must remain bound by that, no matter what others did or +thought; always, always he was under obligations to the end. + +And now, alone, abandoned, helplessly sick, utterly dependent upon the +decency, the charity, the mercy of her legal paramour, the young girl +who had once been his wife had not turned to him in vain. + +Before the light of her shaken mind had gone out she had written him, +incoherently, practically _in extremis_; and if he had hitherto doubted +where his duty lay, from that moment he had no longer any doubt. And +very quietly, hopelessly, and irrevocably he had crushed out of his soul +the hope and promise of the new life dawning for him above the dead +ashes of the past. + + * * * * * + +It was not easy to do; he had not ended it yet. He did not know how. +There were ties to be severed, friendships to be gently broken, old +scenes to be forgotten, memories to kill. There was also love--to be +disposed of. And he did not know how. + +First of all, paramount in his hopeless trouble, the desire to save +others from pain persisted. + +For that reason he had been careful that Gerald should not know where +and how he was now obliged to live--lest the boy suspect and understand +how much of Selwyn's little fortune it had taken to settle his debts of +"honour" and free him from the sinister pressure of Neergard's +importunities. + +For that reason, too, he dreaded to have Austin know, because, if the +truth were exposed, nothing in the world could prevent a violent and +final separation between him and the foolish boy who now, at last, was +beginning to show the first glimmering traces of character and common +sense. + +So he let it be understood that his address was his club for the +present; for he also desired no scene with Boots, whom he knew would +attempt to force him to live with him in his cherished and brand-new +house. And even if he cared to accept and permit Boots to place him +under such obligations, it would only hamper him in his duties. + +Because now, what remained of his income must be devoted to Alixe. + +Even before her case had taken the more hopeless turn, he had understood +that she could not remain at Clifton. Such cases were neither desired +nor treated there; he understood that. And so he had taken, for her, a +pretty little villa at Edgewater, with two trained nurses to care for +her, and a phaeton for her to drive. + +And now she was installed there, properly cared for, surrounded by every +comfort, contented--except in the black and violent crises which still +swept her in recurrent storms--indeed, tranquil and happy; for through +the troubled glimmer of departing reason, her eyes were already opening +in the calm, unearthly dawn of second childhood. + +Pain, sadness, the desolate awakening to dishonour had been forgotten; +to her, the dead now lived; to her, the living who had been children +with her were children again, and she a child among them. Outside of +that dead garden of the past, peopled by laughing phantoms of her youth, +but one single extraneous memory persisted--the memory of +Selwyn--curiously twisted and readjusted to the comprehension of a +child's mind--vague at times, at times wistfully elusive and +incoherent--but it remained always a memory, and always a happy one. + +He was obliged to go to her every three or four days. In the interim she +seemed quite satisfied and happy, busy with the simple and pretty things +she now cared for; but toward the third day of his absence she usually +became restless, asking for him, and why he did not come. And then they +telegraphed him, and he left everything and went, white-faced, stern of +lip, to endure the most dreadful ordeal a man may face--to force the +smile to his lips and gaiety into the shrinking soul of him, and sit +with her in the pretty, sunny room, listening to her prattle, answering +the childish questions, watching her, seated in her rocking-chair, +singing contentedly to herself, and playing with her dolls and +ribbons--dressing them, undressing, mending, arranging--until the heart +within him quivered under the misery of it, and he turned to the +curtained window, hands clinching convulsively, and teeth set to force +back the strangling agony in his throat. + +And the dreadful part of it all was that her appearance had remained +unchanged--unless, perhaps, she was prettier, lovelier of face and +figure than ever before; but in her beautiful dark eyes only the direct +intelligence of a child answered his gaze of inquiry; and her voice, +too, had become soft and hesitating, and the infantile falsetto sounded +in it at times, sweet, futile, immature. + + * * * * * + +Thinking of these things now, he leaned heavily forward, elbows on the +little table. And, suddenly unbidden, before his haunted eyes rose the +white portico of Silverside, and the greensward glimmered, drenched in +sunshine, and a slim figure in white stood there, arms bare, tennis-bat +swinging in one tanned little hand. + +Voices were sounding in his ears--Drina's laughter, Lansing's protest; +Billy shouting to his eager pack; his sister's calm tones, admonishing +the young--and through it all, _her_ voice, clear, hauntingly sweet, +pronouncing his name. + +And he set his lean jaws tight and took a new grip on his pipe-stem, and +stared, with pain-dulled eyes, at the white wall opposite. + +But on the blank expanse the faintest tinge of colour appeared, growing +clearer, taking shape as he stared; and slowly, slowly, under the soft +splendour of her hair, two clear eyes of darkest blue opened under the +languid lids and looked at him, and looked and looked until he closed +his own, unable to endure the agony. + +But even through his sealed lids he saw her; and her clear gaze pierced +him, blinded as he was, leaning there, both hands pressed across his +eyes. + +Sooner or later--sooner or later he must write to her and tell what must +be told. How to do it, when to do it, he did not know. What to say he +did not know; but that there was something due her from him--something +to say, something to confess--to ask her pardon for--he understood. + +Happily for her--happily for him, alas!--love, in its full miracle, had +remained beyond her comprehension. That she cared for him with all her +young heart he knew; that she had not come to love him he knew, too. So +that crowning misery of happiness was spared him. + +Yet he knew, too, that there had been a chance for him; that her +awakening had not been wholly impossible. Loyal in his soul to the dread +duty before him, he must abandon hope; loyal in his heart to her, he +must abandon her, lest, by chance, in the calm, still happiness of their +intimacy the divine moment, unheralded, flash out through the veil, +dazzling, blinding them with the splendour of its truth and beauty. + +And now, leaning there, his face buried in his hands, hours that he +spent with her came crowding back upon him, and in his ears her voice +echoed and echoed, and his hands trembled with the scented memory of her +touch, and his soul quivered and cried out for her. + +Storm after storm swept him; and in the tempest he abandoned reason, +blinded, stunned, crouching there with head lowered and his clenched +hands across his face. + +But storms, given right of way, pass on and over, and tempests sweep +hearts cleaner; and after a long while he lifted his bowed head and sat +up, squaring his shoulders. + +Presently he picked up his pipe again, held it a moment, then laid it +aside. Then he leaned forward, breathing deeply but quietly, and picked +up a pen and a sheet of paper. For the time had come for his letter to +her, and he was ready. + +The letter he wrote was one of those gay, cheerful, inconsequential +letters which, from the very beginning of their occasional +correspondence, had always been to her most welcome and delightful. + +Ignoring that maturity in her with which he had lately dared to reckon, +he reverted to the tone which he had taken and maintained with her +before the sweetness and seriousness of their relations had deepened to +an intimacy which had committed him to an avowal. + +News of all sorts humorously retailed--an amusing sketch of his recent +journey to Washington and its doubtful results--matters that they both +were interested in, details known only to them, a little harmless +gossip--these things formed the body of his letter. There was never a +hint of sorrow or discouragement--nothing to intimate that life had so +utterly and absolutely changed for him--only a jolly, friendly +badinage--an easy, light-hearted narrative, ending in messages to all +and a frank regret that the pursuit of business and happiness appeared +incompatible at the present moment. + +His address, he wrote, was his club; he sent her, he said, under +separate cover, a rather interesting pamphlet--a monograph on the +symbolism displayed by the designs in Samarcand rugs and textiles of +the Ming dynasty. And he ended, closing with a gentle jest concerning +blue-stockings and rebellious locks of ruddy hair. + +And signed his name. + + * * * * * + +Nina and Eileen, in travelling gowns and veils, stood on the porch at +Silverside, waiting for the depot wagon, when Selwyn's letter was handed +to Eileen. + +The girl flushed up, then, avoiding Nina's eyes, turned and entered the +house. Once out of sight, she swiftly mounted to her own room and +dropped, breathless, on the bed, tearing the envelope from end to end. +And from end to end, and back again and over again, she read the +letter--at first in expectancy, lips parted, colour brilliant, then with +the smile still curving her cheeks--but less genuine now--almost +mechanical--until the smile stamped on her stiffening lips faded, and +the soft contours relaxed, and she lifted her eyes, staring into space +with a wistful, questioning lift of the pure brows. + +What more had she expected? What more had she desired? Nothing, surely, +of that emotion which she declined to recognise; surely not that +sentiment of which she had admitted her ignorance to him. Again her eyes +sought the pages, following the inked writing from end to end. What was +she seeking there that he had left unwritten? What was she searching +for, of which there was not one hint in all these pages? + +And now Nina was calling her from the hall below; and she answered gaily +and, hiding the letter in her long glove, came down the stairs. + +"I'll tell you all about the letter in the train," she said; "he is +perfectly well, and evidently quite happy; and Nina--" + +"What, dear?" + +"I want to send him a telegram. May I?" + +"A dozen, if you wish," said Mrs. Gerard, "only, if you don't climb into +that vehicle, we'll miss the train." + +So on the way to Wyossette station Eileen sat very still, gloved hands +folded in her lap, composing her telegram to Selwyn. And, once in the +station, having it by heart already, she wrote it rapidly: + + "Nina and I are on our way to the Berkshires for a week. + House-party at the Craigs'. We stay overnight in town. E.E." + +But the telegram went to his club, and waited for him there; and +meanwhile another telegram arrived at his lodgings, signed by a trained +nurse; and while Miss Erroll, in the big, dismantled house, lay in a +holland-covered armchair, waiting for him, while Nina and Austin, +reading their evening papers, exchanged significant glances from time to +time, the man she awaited sat in the living-room in a little villa at +Edgewater. And a slim young nurse stood beside him, cool and composed in +her immaculate uniform, watching the play of light and shadow on a woman +who lay asleep on the couch, fresh, young face flushed and upturned, a +child's doll cradled between arm and breast. + + * * * * * + +"How long has she been asleep?" asked Selwyn under his breath. + +"An hour. She fretted a good deal because you had not come. This +afternoon she said she wished to drive, and I had the phaeton brought +around; but when she saw it she changed her mind. I was rather afraid of +an outburst--they come sometimes from less cause than that--so I did not +urge her to go out. She played on the piano for a long while, and sang +some songs--those curious native songs she learned in Manila. It seemed +to soothe her; she played with her little trifles quite contentedly for +a time, but soon began fretting again, and asking why you had not come. +She had a bad hour later--she is quite exhausted now. Could you stay +to-night, Captain Selwyn?" + +"Y-es, if you think it better. . . . Wait a moment; I think she has +awakened." + +Alixe had turned her head, her lovely eyes wide open. + +"Phil!" she cried, "is it you?" + +He went forward and took the uplifted hands, smiling down at her. + +"Such a horrid dream!" she said pettishly, "about a soft, plump man with +ever so many rings on his hands. . . . Oh, I am glad you came. . . . +Look at this child of mine!" cuddling the staring wax doll closer; +"she's not undressed yet, and it's long, long after bedtime. Hand me her +night-clothes, Phil." + +The slim young nurse bent and disentangled a bit of lace and cambric +from a heap on the floor, offering it to Selwyn. He laid it in the hand +Alixe held out, and she began to undress the doll in her arms, prattling +softly all the while: + +"Late--oh, so very, very late! I must be more careful of her, Phil; +because, if you and I grow up, some day we may marry, and we ought to +know all about children. It would be great fun, wouldn't it?" + +He nodded, forcing a smile. + +"Don't you think so?" she persisted. + +"Yes--yes, indeed," he said gently. + +She laughed, contented with his answer, and laid her lips against the +painted face of the doll. + +"When we grow up, years from now--then we'll understand, won't we, Phil? +. . . I am tired with playing. . . . And Phil--let me whisper something. +Is that person gone?" + +He turned and signed to the nurse, who quietly withdrew. + +"Is she gone?" repeated Alixe. + +"Yes." + +"Then listen, Phil. Do you know what she and the other one are about all +day? _I_ know; I pretend not to, but I know. They are watching me every +moment--always watching me, because they want to make you believe that I +am forgetting you. But I am not. That is why I made them send for you so +I could tell you myself that I could never, never forget you. . . . I +think of you always while I am playing--always--always I am thinking of +you. You will believe it, won't you?" + +"Yes," he said. + +Contented, she turned to her doll again, undressing it deftly, tenderly. + +"At moments," she said, "I have an odd idea that it is real. I am not +quite sure even now. Do you believe it is alive, Phil? Perhaps, at +night, when I am asleep, it becomes alive. . . . This morning I awoke, +laughing, laughing in delight--thinking I heard you laughing, too--as +once--in the dusk where there were many roses and many stars--big stars, +and very, very bright--I saw you--saw you--and the roses--" + +She paused with a pained, puzzled look of appeal. + +"Where was it, Phil?" + +"In Manila town." + +"Yes; and there were roses. But I was never there." + +"You came out on the veranda and pelted me with roses. There were others +there--officers and their wives. Everybody was laughing." + +"Yes--but I was not there, Phil. . . . Who--who was the tall, thin +bugler who sounded taps?" + +"Corrigan." + +"And--the little, girl-shaped, brown men?" + +"My constabulary." + +"I can't recollect," she said listlessly, laying the doll against her +breast. "I think, Phil, that you had better be a little quiet now--she +may wish to sleep. And I am sleepy, too," lifting her slender hand as a +sign for him to take his leave. + +As he went out the nurse said: "If you wish to return to town, you may, +I think. She will forget about you for two or three days, as usual. +Shall I telegraph if she becomes restless?" + +"Yes. What does the doctor say to-day?" + +The slim nurse looked at him under level brows. + +"There is no change," she said. + +"No hope." It was not even a question. + +"No hope, Captain Selwyn." + +He stood silent, tapping his leg with the stiff brim of his hat; then, +wearily: "Is there anything more I can do for her?" + +"Nothing, sir." + +"Thank you." + +He turned away, bidding her good-night in a low voice. + + * * * * * + +He arrived in town about midnight, but did not go to any of his clubs. +At one of them a telegram was awaiting him; and in a dismantled and +summer-shrouded house a young girl was still expecting him, lying with +closed eyes in a big holland-covered arm-chair, listening to the rare +footfalls in the street outside. + +But of these things he knew nothing; and he went wearily to his lodgings +and climbed the musty stairs, and sat down in his old attitude before +the table and the blank wall behind it, waiting for the magic frescoes +to appear in all the vague loveliness of their hues and dyes, painting +for him upon his chamber-walls the tinted paradise now lost to him for +ever. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +HIS OWN WAY + + +The winter promised to be a busy one for Selwyn. If at first he had had +any dread of enforced idleness, that worry, at least, vanished before +the first snow flew. For there came to him a secret communication from +the Government suggesting, among other things, that he report, three +times a week, at the proving grounds on Sandy Hook; that experiments +with Chaosite as a bursting charge might begin as soon as he was ready +with his argon primer; that officers connected with the bureau of +ordnance and the marine laboratory had recommended the advisability of +certain preliminary tests, and that the general staff seemed inclined to +consider the matter seriously. + +This meant work--hard, constant, patient work. But it did not mean money +to help him support the heavy burdens he had assumed. If there were to +be any returns, all that part of it lay in the future, and the future +could not help him now. + +Yet, unless still heavier burdens were laid upon him, he could hold on +for the present; his bedroom cost him next to nothing; breakfast he +cooked for himself, luncheon he dispensed with, and he dined at +random--anywhere that appeared to promise seclusion, cheapness, and +immunity from anybody he had ever known. + +A minute and rather finicky care of his wardrobe had been second nature +to him--the habits of a soldier systematised the routine--and he was +satisfied that his clothes would outlast winter demands, although +laundry expenses appalled him. + +As for his clubs, he hung on to them, knowing the importance of +appearances in a town which is made up of them. But this expense was all +he could carry, for the demands of the establishment at Edgewater were +steadily increasing with the early coming of winter; he was sent for +oftener, and a physician was now in practically continual attendance. + +Also, three times a week he boarded the Sandy Hook boat, returning +always at night because he dared not remain at the reservation lest an +imperative telegram from Edgewater find him unable to respond. + +So, when in November the first few hurrying snow-flakes whirled in among +the city's canons of masonry and iron, Selwyn had already systematised +his winter schedule; and when Nina opened her house, returning from +Lenox with Eileen to do so, she found that Selwyn had made his own +arrangements for the winter, and that, according to the programme, +neither she nor anybody else was likely to see him oftener than one +evening in a week. + +To Boots she complained bitterly, having had visions of Selwyn and +Gerald as permanent fixtures of family support during the season now +imminent. + +"I cannot understand," she said, "why Philip is acting this way. He need +not work like that; there is no necessity, because he has a comfortable +income. If he is determined to maintain a stuffy apartment somewhere, of +course I won't insist on his coming to us as he ought to, but to abandon +us in this manner makes me almost indignant. Besides, it's having +anything but a salutary effect on Eileen." + +"What effect is it having on Eileen?" inquired Boots curiously. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Nina, coming perilously close to a pout; "but I +see symptoms--indeed I do, Boots!--symptoms of shirking the winter's +routine. It's to be a gay season, too, and it's only her second. The +idea of a child of that age informing me that she's had enough of the +purely social phases of this planet! Did you ever hear anything like it? +One season, if you please--and she finds it futile, stale, and +unprofitable to fulfil the duties expected of her!" + +Boots began to laugh, but it was no laughing matter to Nina, and she +said so vigorously. + +"It's Philip's fault. If he'd stand by us this winter she'd go +anywhere--and enjoy it, too. Besides, he's the only man able to satisfy +the blue-stocking in her between dances. But he's got this obstinate +mania for seclusion, and he seldom comes near us, and it's driving +Eileen into herself, Boots--and every day I catch her hair slumping over +her ears--and once I discovered a lead-pencil behind 'em!--and a +monograph on the Ming dynasty in her lap, all marked up with notes! Oh, +Boots! Boots! I've given up all hopes of that brother of mine for +her--but she could marry anybody, if she chose--_anybody_!--and she +could twist the entire social circus into a court of her own and +dominate everything. Everybody knows it; everybody says it! . . . And +look at her!--indifferent, listless, scarcely civil any longer to her +own sort, but galvanised into animation the moment some impossible +professor or artist or hairy scientist flutters batlike into a +drawing-room where he doesn't belong unless he's hired to be amusing! +And that sounds horridly snobbish, I know; I _am_ a snob about Eileen, +but not about myself because it doesn't harm me to make round +wonder-eyes at a Herr Professor or gaze intensely into the eyes of an +artist when he's ornamental; it doesn't make my hair come down over my +ears to do that sort of thing, and it doesn't corrupt me into slinking +off to museum lectures or spending mornings prowling about the Society +Library or the Chinese jades in the Metropolitan--" + +Boots's continuous and unfeigned laughter checked the pretty, excited +little matron, and after a moment she laughed, too. + +"Dear Boots," she said, "can't you help me a little? I really am +serious. I don't know what to do with the girl. Philip never comes near +us--once a week for an hour or two, which is nothing--and the child +misses him. There--the murder is out! Eileen misses him. Oh, she doesn't +say so--she doesn't hint it, or look it; but I know her; I know. She +misses him; she's lonely. And what to do about it I don't know, Boots, I +don't know." + +Lansing had ceased laughing. He had been indulging in tea--a shy vice of +his which led him to haunt houses where that out-of-fashion beverage +might still be had. And now he sat, cup suspended, saucer held meekly +against his chest, gazing out at the pelting snow-flakes. + +"Boots, dear," said Nina, who adored him, "tell me what to do. Tell me +what has gone amiss between my brother and Eileen. Something has. And +whatever it is, it began last autumn--that day when--you remember the +incident?" + +Boots nodded. + +"Well, it seemed to upset everybody, somehow. Philip left the next day; +do you remember? And Eileen has never been quite the same. Of course, I +don't ascribe it to that unpleasant episode--even a young girl gets over +a shock in a day. But the--the change--or whatever it is--dated from +that night. . . . They--Philip and Eileen--had been inseparable. It was +good for them--for her, too. And as for Phil--why, he looked about +twenty-one! . . . Boots, I--I had hoped--expected--and I was right! They +_were_ on the verge of it!" + +"I think so, too," he said. + +She looked up curiously. + +"Did Philip ever say--" + +"No; he never _says_, you know." + +"I thought that men--close friends--sometimes did." + +"Sometimes--in romantic fiction. Phil wouldn't; nor," he added +smilingly, "would I." + +"How do you know, Boots?" she asked, leaning back to watch him out of +mischievous eyes. "How do you know what you'd do if you were in +love--with Gladys, for example?" + +"I know perfectly well," he said, "because I am." + +"In love!" incredulously. + +"Of course." + +"Oh--you mean Drina." + +"Who else?" he asked lightly. + +"I thought you were speaking seriously. I"--all her latent instinct for +such meddling aroused--"I thought perhaps you meant Gladys." + +"Gladys who?" he asked blandly. + +"Gladys Orchil, silly! People said--" + +"Oh, Lord!" he exclaimed; "if people 'said,' then it's all over. Nina! +do I look like a man on a still hunt for a million?" + +"Gladys is a beauty!" retorted Nina indignantly. + +"With the intellect of a Persian kitten," he nodded. "I--that was not a +nice thing to say. I'm sorry. I'm ashamed. But, do you know, I have come +to regard my agreement with Drina so seriously that I take absolutely no +interest in anybody else." + +"Try to be serious, Boots," said Nina. "There are dozens of nice girls +you ought to be agreeable to. Austin and I were saying only last night +what a pity it is that you don't find either of the Minster twins +interesting--" + +"I might find them compoundly interesting," he admitted, "but +unfortunately there's no chance in this country for multiple domesticity +and the simpler pleasures of a compound life. It's no use, Nina; I'm not +going to marry any girl for ever so long--anyway, not until Drina +releases me on her eighteenth birthday. Hello!--somebody's coming--and +I'm off!" + +"I'm not at home; don't go!" said Nina, laying one hand on his arm to +detain him as a card was brought up. "Oh, it's only Rosamund Fane! I +_did_ promise to go to the Craigs' with her. . . . Do you mind if she +comes up?" + +"Not if you don't," said Boots blandly. He could not endure Rosamund and +she detested him; and Nina, who was perfectly aware of this, had just +enough of perversity in her to enjoy their meeting. + +Rosamund came in breezily, sables powdered with tiny flecks of snow, +cheeks like damask roses, eyes of turquoise. + +"How d'ye do!" she nodded, greeting Boots askance as she closed with +Nina. "I came, you see, but _do_ you want to be jammed and mauled and +trodden on at the Craigs'? No? That's perfect!--neither do I. Where is +the adorable Eileen? Nobody sees her any more." + +"She was at the Delmour-Carnes's yesterday." + +"Was she? Curious I didn't see her. Tea? With gratitude, dear, if it's +Scotch." + +She sat erect, the furs sliding to the back of the chair, revealing the +rather accented details of her perfectly turned figure; and rolling up +her gloves she laid her pretty head on one side and considered Boots +with very bright and malicious eyes. + +"They say," she said, smiling, "that some very heavy play goes on in +that cunning little new house of yours, Mr. Lansing." + +"Really?" he asked blandly. + +"Yes; and I'm wondering if it is true." + +"I shouldn't think you'd care, Mrs. Fane, as long as it makes a good +story." + +Rosamund flushed. Then, always alive to humour, laughed frankly. + +"What a nasty thing to say to a woman!" she observed; "it fairly reeks +impertinence. Mr. Lansing, you don't like me very well, do you?" + +"I dare not," he said, "because you are married. If you were only free +_a vinculo matrimonii_--" + +Rosamund laughed again, and sat stroking her muff and smiling. "Curious, +isn't it?" she said to Nina--"the inborn antipathy of two agreeable +human bipeds for one another. _Similis simili gaudet_--as my learned +friend will admit. But with us it's the old, old case of that eminent +practitioner, the late Dr. Fell. _Esto perpetua!_ Oh, well! We can't +help it, can we, Mr. Lansing?" And again to Nina: "Dear, _have_ you +heard anything about Alixe Ruthven? I think it is the strangest thing +that nobody seems to know where she is. And all anybody can get out of +Jack is that she's in a nerve factory--or some such retreat--and a +perfect wreck. She might as well be dead, you know." + +"In that case," observed Lansing, "it might be best to shift the centre +of gossip. _De mortuis nil nisi bonum_--which is simple enough for +anybody to comprehend." + +"That is rude, Mr. Lansing," flashed out Rosamund; and to his +astonishment he saw the tears start to her eyes. + +"I beg your pardon," he said sulkily. + +"You do well to. I care more for Alixe Ruthven than--than you give me +credit for caring about anybody. People are never wholly worthless, Mr. +Lansing--only the very young think that. Give me credit for one wholly +genuine affection, and you will not be too credulous; and perhaps in +future you and I may better be able to endure one another when Fate +lands us at the same tea-table." + +Boots said respectfully: "I am sorry for what I said, Mrs. Pane. I hope +that your friend Mrs. Ruthven will soon recover." + +Rosamund looked at Nina, the tears still rimming her lids. "I miss her +frightfully," she said. "If somebody would only tell me where she +is--I--I know it could do no harm for me to see her. I _can_ be as +gentle and loyal as anybody--when I really care for a person. . . . Do +_you_ know where she might be, Nina?" + +"I? No, I do not. I'd tell you if I did, Rosamund." + +"_Don't_ you know?" + +"Why, no," said Nina, surprised at her persistence. + +"Because," continued Rosamund, "your brother does." + +Nina straightened up, flushed and astonished. + +"Why do you say that?" she asked. + +"Because he does know. He sent her to Clifton. The maid who accompanied +her is in my service now. It's a low way of finding out things, but we +all do it." + +"He--sent Alixe to--to Clifton!" repeated Nina incredulously. "Your maid +told you that?" + +Rosamund finished the contents of her slim glass and rose. "Yes; and it +was a brave and generous and loyal thing for him to do. I supposed you +knew it. Jack has been too beastly to her; she was on the verge of +breaking down when I saw her on the _Niobrara_, and she told me then +that her husband had practically repudiated her. . . . Then she suddenly +disappeared; and her maid, later, came to me seeking a place. That's how +I knew, and that's all I know. And I care for Alixe; and I honour your +brother for what he did." + +She stood with pretty golden head bent, absently arranging the sables +around her neck and shoulders. + +"I have been very horrid to Captain Selwyn," she said quietly. "Tell him +I am sorry; that he has my respect. . . . And--if he cares to tell me +where Alixe is I shall be grateful and do no harm." + +She turned toward the door, stopped short, came back, and made her +adieux, then started again toward the door, not noticing Lansing. + +"With your permission," said Boots at her shoulder in a very low voice. + +She looked up, surprised, her eyes still wet. Then comprehending the +compliment of his attendance, acknowledged it with a faint smile. + +"Good-night," he said to Nina. Then he took Rosamund down to her +brougham with a silent formality that touched her present sentimental +mood. + +She leaned from her carriage-window, looking at him where he stood, hat +in hand, in the thickly falling snow. + +"Please--without ceremony, Mr. Lansing." And, as he covered himself, +"May I not drop you at your destination?" + +"Thank you"--in refusal. + +"I thank you for being nice to me. . . . Please believe there is often +less malice than perversity in me. I--I have a heart, Mr. Lansing--such +as it is. And often those I torment most I care for most. It was so with +Alixe. Good-bye." + +Boots's salute was admirably formal; then he went on through the +thickening snow, swung vigorously across the Avenue to the Park-wall, +and, turning south, continued on parallel to it under the naked trees. + +It must have been thick weather on the river and along the docks, for +the deep fog-horns sounded persistently over the city, and the haunted +warning of the sirens filled the leaden sky lowering through the white +veil descending in flakes that melted where they fell. + +And, as Lansing strode on, hands deep in his overcoat, more than one +mystery was unravelling before his keen eyes that blinked and winked as +the clinging snow blotted his vision. + +Now he began to understand something of the strange effacement of his +friend Selwyn; he began to comprehend the curious economies practised, +the continued absence from club and coterie, the choice of the sordid +lodging whither Boots, one night, seeing him on the street by chance, +had shamelessly tracked him--with no excuse for the intrusion save his +affection for this man and his secret doubts of the man's ability to +take care of himself and his occult affairs. + +Now he was going there, exactly what to do he did not yet know, but with +the vague determination to do something. + +On the wet pavements and reeking iron overhead structure along Sixth +Avenue the street lights glimmered, lending to the filthy avenue under +its rusty tunnel a mystery almost picturesque. + +Into it he turned, swung aboard a car as it shot groaning and clanking +around the curve from Fifty-ninth Street, and settled down to brood and +ponder and consider until it was time for him to swing off the car into +the slimy street once more. + +Silvery pools of light inlaid the dim expanse of Washington Square. He +turned east, then south, then east again, and doubled into a dim street, +where old-time houses with toppling dormers crowded huddling together as +though in the cowering contact there was safety from the destroyer who +must one day come, bringing steel girders and cement to mark their +graves with sky-scraping monuments of stone. + +Into the doorway of one of these houses Lansing turned. When the town +was young a Lansing had lived there in pomp and circumstance--his own +great-grandfather--and he smiled grimly, amused at the irony of things +terrestrial. + +A slattern at the door halted him: + +"Nobody ain't let up them stairs without my knowin' why," she mumbled. + +"I want to see Captain Selwyn," he explained. + +"Hey?" + +"Captain Selwyn!" + +"Hey? I'm a little deef!" screeched the old crone. "Is it Cap'n Selwyn +you want?" + +Above, Selwyn, hearing his name screamed through the shadows of the +ancient house, came to the stairwell and looked down into the blackness. + +"What is it, Mrs. Glodden?" he said sharply; then, catching sight of a +dim figure springing up the stairs: + +"Here! this way. Is it for me?" and as Boots came into the light from +his open door: "Oh!" he whispered, deadly pale under the reaction; "I +thought it was a telegram. Come in." + +Boots shook the snow from his hat and coat into the passageway and took +the single chair; Selwyn, tall and gaunt in his shabby dressing-gown, +stood looking at him and plucking nervously at the frayed and tasselled +cord around his waist. + +"I don't know how you came to stumble in here," he said at length, "but +I'm glad to see you." + +"Thanks," replied Boots, gazing shamelessly and inquisitively about. +There was nothing to see except a few books, a pipe or two, toilet +articles, and a shaky gas-jet. The flat military trunk was under the +iron bed. + +"I--it's not much of a place," observed Selwyn, forcing a smile. +"However, you see I'm so seldom in town; I'm busy at the Hook, you know. +So I don't require anything elaborate." + +"Yes, I know," said Boots solemnly. A silence. + +"H--have a pipe?" inquired Selwyn uneasily. He had nothing else to +offer. + +Boots leaned back in his stiff chair, crossed his legs, and filled a +pipe. When he had lighted it he said: + +"How are things, Phil?" + +"All right. First rate, thank you." + +Boots removed the pipe from his lips and swore at him; and Selwyn +listened with head obstinately lowered and lean hands plucking at his +frayed girdle. And when Boots had ended his observations with an +emphatic question, Selwyn shook his head: + +"No, Boots. You're very good to ask me to stop with you, but I can't. +I'd be hampered; there are matters--affairs that concern me--that need +instant attention at times--at certain times. I must be free to go, free +to come. I couldn't be in your house. Don't ask me. But I'm--I thank you +for offering--" + +"Phil!" + +"What?" + +"Are you broke?" + +"Ah--a little"--with a smile. + +"Will you take what you require from me?" + +"No." + +"Oh--very well. I was horribly afraid you would." + +Selwyn laughed and leaned back, indenting his meagre pillow. + +"Come, Boots," he said, "you and I have often had worse quarters than +this. To tell you the truth I rather like it than otherwise." + +"Oh, damn!" said Boots, disgusted; "the same old conscience in the same +old mule! Who likes squalidity? I don't. You don't! What if Fate has hit +you a nasty swipe! Suppose Fortune has landed you a few in the slats! +It's only temporary and you know it. All business in the world is +conducted on borrowed capital. It's your business to live in decent +quarters, and I'm here to lend you the means of conducting that +business. Oh, come on, Phil, for Heaven's sake! If there were really any +reason--any logical reason for this genius-in-the-garret business, I'd +not say a word. But there isn't; you're going to make money--" + +"Oh, yes, I've got to," said Selwyn simply. + +"Well, then! In the meanwhile--" + +"No. Listen, Boots; I couldn't be free in your house. I--they--there are +telegrams--unexpected ones--at all hours." + +"What of it?" + +"You don't understand." + +"Wait a bit! How do you know I don't? Do the telegrams come from Sandy +Hook?" + +"No." + +Boots looked him calmly in the eye. "Then I _do_ understand, old man. +Come on out of this, in Heaven's name! Come, now! Get your dressing-gown +off and your coat on! Don't you think I understand? I tell you I _do_! +Yes, the whole blessed, illogical, chivalrous business. . . . Never mind +how I know--for I won't tell you! Oh, I'm not trying to interfere with +you; I know enough to shun buzz-saws. All I want is for you to come and +take that big back room and help a fellow live in a lonely house--help a +man to make it cheerful. I can't stand it alone any longer; and it will +be four years before Drina is eighteen." + +"Drina!" repeated Selwyn blankly--then he laughed. It was genuine +laughter, too; and Boots grinned and puffed at his pipe, and recrossed +his legs, watching Selwyn out of eyes brightening with expectancy. + +"Then it's settled," he said. + +"What? Your ultimate career with Drina?" + +"Oh, yes; that also. But I referred to your coming to live with me." + +"Boots--" + +"Oh, fizz! Come on. I don't like the way you act, Phil." + +Selwyn said slowly: "Do you make it a personal matter--" + +"Yes, I do; dam'f I don't! You'll be perfectly free there. I don't care +what you do or where you go or what hours you keep. You can run up and +down Broadway all night, if you want to, or you can stop at home and +play with the cats. I've three fine ones"--he made a cup of his hands +and breathed into them, for the room was horribly cold--"three fine +tabbies, and a good fire for 'em to blink at when they start purring." + +He looked kindly but anxiously at Selwyn, waiting for a word; and as +none came he said: + +"Old fellow, you can't fool me with your talk about needing nothing +better because you're out of town all the time. You know what you and I +used to talk about in the old days--our longing for a home and an open +fire and a brace of cats and bedroom slippers. Now I've got 'em, and I +make Ardois signals at you. If your shelter-tent got afire or blew away, +wouldn't you crawl into mine? And are you going to turn down an old +tent-mate because his shack happens to be built of bricks?" + +"Do you put it that way?" + +"Yes, I do. Why, in Heaven's name, do you want to stay in a vile hole +like this--unless you're smitten with Mrs. Glodden? Phil, I _want_ you +to come. Will you?" + +"Then--I'll accept a corner of your blanket--for a day or two," said +Selwyn wearily. . . . "You'll let me go when I want to?" + +"I'll do more; I'll make you go when _I_ want you to. Come on; pay Mrs. +Glodden and have your trunk sent." + +Selwyn forced a laugh, then sat up on the bed's edge and looked around +at the unpapered walls. + +"Boots--you won't say to--to anybody what sort of a place I've been +living in--" + +"No; but I will if you try to come back here." + +So Selwyn stood up and began to remove his dressing-gown, and Lansing +dragged out the little flat trunk and began to pack it. + +An hour later they went away together through the falling snow. + + * * * * * + +For a week Boots let him alone. He had a big, comfortable room, +dressing-closet, and bath adjoining the suite occupied by his host; he +was absolutely free to go and come, and for a week or ten days Boots +scarcely laid eyes on him, except at breakfast, for Selwyn's visits to +Sandy Hook became a daily routine except when a telegram arrived from +Edgewater calling him there. + +But matters at Edgewater were beginning to be easier in one way for him. +Alixe appeared to forget him for days at a time; she was less irritable, +less restless and exacting. A sweet-tempered and childish docility made +the care of her a simpler matter for the nurses and for him; her +discontent had disappeared; she made fewer demands. She did ask for a +sleigh to replace the phaeton, and Selwyn managed to get one for her; +and Miss Casson, one of the nurses, wrote him how delighted Alixe had +been, and how much good the sleighing was doing her. + +"Yesterday," continued the nurse in her letter, "there was a +consultation here between Drs. Vail, Wesson, and Morrison--as you +requested. They have not changed their opinions--indeed, they are +convinced that there is no possible chance of the recovery you hoped for +when you talked with Dr. Morrison. They all agree that Mrs. Ruthven is +in excellent physical condition--young, strong, vigorous--and may live +for years; may outlive us all. But there is nothing else to expect." + +The letter ran on: + +"I am enclosing the bills you desired to have sent you. Fuel is very +expensive, as you will see. The items for fruits, too, seems +unreasonably large, but grapes are two dollars a pound and fresh +vegetables dreadfully expensive. + +"Mrs. Ruthven is comfortable and happy in the luxury provided. She is +very sweet and docile with us all--and we are careful not to irritate +her or to have anything intrude which might excite or cause the +slightest shock to her. + +"Yesterday, standing at the window, she caught sight of a passing negro, +and she turned to me like a flash and said: + +"'The Tenth Cavalry were there!' + +"She seemed rather excited for a moment--not unpleasantly--but when I +ventured to ask her a question, she had quite forgotten it all. + +"I meant to thank you for sending me the revolver and cartridges. It +seemed a silly request, but we are in a rather lonely place, and I think +Miss Bond and I feel a little safer knowing that, in case of necessity, +we have _something_ to frighten away any roaming intruder who might take +it into his head to visit us. + +"One thing we must be careful about: yesterday Mrs. Ruthven had a doll +on my bed, and I sat sewing by the window, not noticing what she was +doing until I heard her pretty, pathetic little laugh. + +"And _what_ do you think she had done? She had discovered your revolver +under my pillow, and she had tied her handkerchief around it, and was +using it as a doll! + + "I got it away with a little persuasion, but at times she still + asks for her 'army' doll--saying that a boy she knew, named Philip, + had sent it to her from Manila, where he was living. + + "This, Captain Selwyn, is all the news. I do not think she will + begin to fret for you again for some time. At first, you remember, + it was every other day, then every three or four days. It has now + been a week since she asked for you. When she does I will, as + usual, telegraph you. + + "With many thanks for your kindness to us all, "Very respectfully + yours, + + "Mary Casson." + +Selwyn read this letter sitting before the fire in the living-room, feet +on the fender, pipe between his teeth. It was the first day of absolute +rest he had had in a long while. + +The day before he had been at the Hook until almost dark, watching the +firing of a big gun, and the results had been so satisfactory that he +was venturing to give himself a holiday--unless wanted at Edgewater. + +But the morning had brought this letter; Alixe was contented and +comfortable. So when Boots, after breakfast, went off to his Air Line +office, Selwyn permitted himself the luxury of smoking-jacket and +slippers, and settled down before the fire to reread the letter and +examine the enclosed bills, and ponder and worry over them at his ease. +To have leisure to worry over perplexities was something; to worry in +such luxury as this seemed something so very near to happiness that as +he refolded the last bill for household expenses he smiled faintly to +himself. + +Boots's three tabby-cats were disposed comfortably before the blaze, +fore paws folded under, purring and blinking lazily at the grate. All +around were evidences of Boots's personal taste in pretty wall-paper and +hangings, a few handsome Shiraz rugs underfoot, deep, comfortable +chairs, low, open bookcases full of promising literature--the more +promising because not contemporary. + +Selwyn loved such a room as this--where all was comfort, and nothing in +the quiet, but cheerful, ensemble disturbed the peaceful homeliness. + +Once--and not very long since--he had persuaded himself that there had +been a chance for him to have such a home, and live in it--_not_ alone. +That chance had gone--had never really existed, he knew now. For sooner +or later he must have awakened from the pleasant dreams of +self-persuasion to the reality of his relentless responsibility. No, +there had never been such a chance; and he thanked God that he had +learned before it was too late that for him there could be no earthly +paradise, no fireside _a deux_, no home, no hope of it. + +As long as Alixe lived his spiritual responsibility must endure. And +they had just told him that she might easily outlive them all. + +He turned heavily in his chair and stared at the fire. Perhaps he saw +infernal visions in the flames; perhaps the blaze meant nothing more to +him than an example of chemical reaction, for his face was set and +colourless and vacant, and his hands lay loosely along the padded arms +of his easy-chair. + +The hardest lesson he had to learn in these days was to avoid thinking. +Or, if he must surrender to the throbbing, unbidden memories which came +crowding in hordes to carry him by the suddenness of their assault, that +he learn to curb and subdue and direct them in pity toward that +hopeless, helpless, stricken creature who was so utterly dependent upon +him in her dreadful isolation. + +And he could not so direct them. + +Loyal in act and deed, his thoughts betrayed him. Memories, insurgent, +turned on him to stab him; and he shrank from them, cowering among his +pillows at midnight. But memory is merciless, and what has been is +without pity; and so remembrance rose at midnight from its cerements, +like a spectre, floating before his covered eyes, wearing the shape of +youth and love, crowned with the splendour of _her_ hair, looking at him +out of those clear, sweet eyes whose gaze was purity and truth eternal. + +And truth is truth, though he might lie with hands clinched across his +brow to shut out the wraith of it that haunted him; though he might set +his course by the faith that was in him, and put away the hope of the +world--whose hope is love--the truth was there, staring, staring at him +out of Eileen Erroll's dark-blue eyes. + + * * * * * + +He had seen her seldom that winter. When he had seen her their relations +appeared to be as happy, as friendly as before; there was no apparent +constraint, nothing from her to indicate that she noticed an absence for +which his continual business with the Government seemed sufficient +excuse. + +Besides, her days were full days, consequent upon Nina's goading and +indefatigable activity; and Eileen danced and received, and she bridged +and lunched, and she heard opera Wednesdays and was good to the poor on +Fridays; and there were balls, and theatres, and classes for +intellectual improvement, and routine duties incident to obligations +born with those inhabitants of Manhattan who are numbered among the +thousand caryatides that support upon their jewelled necks and naked +shoulders the social structure of the metropolis. + +But Selwyn, unable longer to fulfil his social obligations, was being +quietly eliminated from the social scheme of things. Passed over here, +dropped there, counted out as one more man not to be depended upon, it +was not a question of loss of caste; he simply stayed away, and his +absence was accepted by people who, in the breathless pleasure chase, +have no leisure to inquire why a man has lagged behind. + +There were rumours, however, that he had merely temporarily donned +overalls for the purpose of making a gigantic fortune; and many an +envious young fellow asked his pretty partner in the dance if it was +true, and many a young girl frankly hoped it was, and that the fortune +would be quick in the making. For Selwyn was well liked in the younger +set, and that he was in process of becoming eligible interested +everybody except Gladys and the Minster twins, who considered him +sufficiently eligible without the material additions required by their +cynical seniors, and would rather have had him penniless and present +than absent and opulent. + +But they were young and foolish, and after a while they forgot to miss +him, particularly Gladys, whose mother had asked her not to dance quite +so often with Gerald, and to favour him a trifle less frequently in +cotillon. Which prevoyance had been coped with successfully by Nina, +who, noticing it, at first took merely a perverse pleasure in foiling +Mrs. Orchil; but afterward, as the affair became noticeable, animated by +the instinct of the truly clever opportunist, she gave Gerald every +fighting chance. Whatever came of it--and, no doubt, the Orchils had +more ambitious views for Gladys--it was well to have Gerald mentioned in +such a fashionable episode, whether anything came of it or not. + +Gerald, in the early days of his affair with Gladys, and before even it +had assumed the proportions of an affair, had shyly come to Selwyn, not +for confession but with the crafty purpose of introducing her name into +the conversation so that he might have the luxury of talking about her +to somebody who would neither quiz him nor suspect him. + +Selwyn, of course, ultimately suspected him; but as he never quizzed +him, Gerald continued his elaborate system of subterfuges to make her +personality and doings a topic for him to expand upon and Selwyn to +listen to. + +It had amused Selwyn; he thought of it now--a gay memory like a ray of +light flung for a moment across the sombre background of his own +sadness. Fortunate or unfortunate, Gerald was still lucky in his freedom +to hazard it with chance and fate. + +Freedom to love! That alone was blessed, though that love be unreturned. +Without that right--the right to love--a man was no man. Lansing had +been correct: such a man was a spectre in a living world--the ghost of +what he had been. But there was no help for it, and there Lansing had +been in the wrong. No hope, no help, nothing for it but to set a true +course and hang to it. + +And Selwyn's dull eyes rested upon the ashes of the fire, and he saw his +dead youth among them; and, in the flames, his maturity burning to +embers. + +If he outlived Alixe, his life would lie as the ashes lay at his feet. +If she outlived him--and they had told him there was every chance of +it--at least he would have something to busy himself with in life if he +was to leave her provided for when he was no longer there to stand +between her and charity. + +That meant work--the hard, incessant, blinding, stupefying work which +stuns thought and makes such a life endurable. + +Not that he had ever desired death as a refuge or as a solution of +despair; there was too much of the soldier in him. Besides, it is so +impossible for youth to believe in death, to learn to apply the word to +themselves. He had not learned to, and he had seen death, and watched +it; but for himself he had not learned to believe in it. When one turns +forty it is easier to credit it. + +Thinking of death, impersonally, he sat watching the flames playing +above the heavy log; and as he lay there in his chair, the unlighted +pipe drooping in his hands, the telephone on the desk rang, and he rose +and unhooked the receiver. + +Drina's voice sounded afar, and: "Hello, sweetheart!" he said gaily; "is +there anything I can do for your youthful highness?" + +"I've been talking over the 'phone to Boots," she said. "You know, +whenever I have nothing to do I call up Boots at his office and talk to +him." + +"That must please him," suggested Selwyn gravely. + +"It does. Boots says you are not going to business to-day. So I thought +I'd call you up." + +"Thank you," said Selwyn. + +"You are welcome. What are you doing over there in Boots's house?" + +"Looking at the fire, Drina, and listening to the purring of three fat +tabby-cats." + +"Oh! Mother and Eileen have gone somewhere. I haven't anything to do +for an hour. Can't you come around?" + +"Why, yes, if you want me." + +"Yes, I do. Of course I can't have Boots, and I prefer you next. The +children are fox-hunting, and it bores me. Will you come?" + +"Yes. When?" + +"Now. And would you mind bringing me a box of mint-paste? Mother won't +object. Besides, I'll tell her, anyway, after I've eaten them." + +"All right!" said Selwyn, laughing and hanging up the receiver. + +On his way to the Gerards' he bought a box of the confection dear to +Drina. But as he dropped the packet into his overcoat-pocket, the memory +of the past rose up suddenly, halting him. He could not bear to go to +the house without some little gift for Eileen, and it was violets now as +it was in the days that could never dawn again--a great, fragrant bunch +of them, which he would leave for her after his brief play-hour with +Drina was ended. + +The child was glad to see him, and expressed herself so, coming across +to the chair where he sat and leaning against him, one arm on his +shoulder. + +"Do you know," she said, "that I miss you ever so much? Do you know, +also, that I am nearly fourteen, and that there is nobody in this house +near enough my age to be very companionable? I have asked them to send +me to school, and mother is considering it." + +She leaned against his shoulder, curly head bent, thoughtfully studying +the turquoise ring on her slim finger. It was her first ring. Nina had +let Boots give it to her. + +"What a tall girl you are growing into!" he said, encircling her waist +with one arm. "Your mother was like you at fourteen. . . . Did she ever +tell you how she first met your father? Well, I'll tell you then. Your +father was a schoolboy of fifteen, and one day he saw the most wonderful +little girl riding a polo pony out of the Park. Her mother was riding +with her. And he lost his head, and ran after her until she rode into +the Academy stables. And in he went, headlong, after her, and found her +dismounted and standing with her mother; and he took off his hat, and he +said to her mother: 'I've run quite a long way to tell you who I am: I +am Colonel Gerard's son, Austin. Would you care to know me?' + +"And he looked at the little girl, who had curls precisely like yours, +and the same little nose and mouth. And that little girl, who is now +your mother, said very simply: 'Won't you come home to luncheon with us? +May he, mother? He has run a very long way to be polite to us.' + +"And your mother's mother looked at the boy for a moment, smiling, for +he was the image of his father, who had been at school with her. Then +she said: 'Come to luncheon and tell me about your father. Your father +once came a thousand miles to see me, but I had started the day before +on my wedding-trip.' + + * * * * * + +"And that is how your father first met your mother, when she was a +little girl." + +Drina laughed: "What a funny boy father was to run after a strange girl +on a polo pony! . . . Suppose--suppose he had not seen her, and had not +run after her. . . . Where would I be now, Uncle Philip? . . . Could you +please tell me?" + +"Still aloft among the cherubim, sweetheart." + +"But--whose uncle would you be? And who would Boots have found for a +comrade like me? . . . It's a good thing that father ran after that polo +pony. . . . Probably God arranged it. Do you think so?" + +"There is no harm in thinking it," he said, smiling. + +"No; no harm. I've known for a long while that He was taking care of +Boots for me until I grow up. Meanwhile, I know some very nice Harvard +freshmen and two boys from St. Paul and five from Groton. That helps, +you know." + +"Helps what?" asked Selwyn, vastly amused. + +"To pass the time until I am eighteen," said the child serenely, helping +herself to another soft, pale-green chunk of the aromatic paste. "Uncle +Philip, mother has forbidden me--and I'll tell her and take my +punishment--but would you mind telling me how you first met my Aunt +Alixe?" + +Selwyn's arm around her relaxed, then tightened. + +"Why do you ask, dear?" he said very quietly. + +"Because I was just wondering whether God arranged that, too." + +Selwyn looked at her a moment. "Yes," he said grimly; "nothing happens +by chance." + +"Then, when God arranges such things, He does not always consider our +happiness." + +"He gives us our chance, Drina." + +"Oh! Did you have a chance? I heard mother say to Eileen that you had +never had a chance for happiness. I thought it was very sad. I had gone +into the clothes-press to play with my dolls--you know I still do play +with them--that is, I go into some secret place and look at them at +times when the children are not around. So I was in there, sitting on +the cedar-chest, and I couldn't help hearing what they said." + +She extracted another bonbon, bit into it, and shook her head: + +"And mother said to Eileen: 'Dearest, can't you learn to care for him?' +And Eileen--" + +"Drina!" he interrupted sharply, "you must not repeat things you +overhear." + +"Oh, I didn't hear anything more," said the child, "because I remembered +that I shouldn't listen, and I came out of the closet. Mother was +standing by the bed, and Eileen was lying on the bed with her hands over +her eyes; and I didn't know she had been crying until I said: 'Please +excuse me for listening,' and she sat up very quickly, and I saw her +face was flushed and her eyes wet. . . . Isn't it possible for you to +marry anybody, Uncle Philip?" + +"No, Drina." + +"Not even if Eileen would marry you?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +"You could not understand, dear. Even your mother cannot quite +understand. So we won't ever speak of it again, Drina." + +The child balanced a bonbon between thumb and forefinger, considering it +very gravely. + +"I know something that mother does not," she said. And as he betrayed no +curiosity: + +"Eileen _is_ in love. I heard her say so." + +He straightened up sharply, turning to look at her. + +"I was sleeping with her. I was still awake, and I heard her say: 'I +_do_ love you--I _do_ love you.' She said it very softly, and I cuddled +up, supposing she meant me. But she was asleep." + +"She certainly meant you," said Selwyn, forcing his stiffened lips into +a smile. + +The child shook her head, looking down at the ring which she was turning +on her finger: + +"No; she did not mean me." + +"H-how do you know?" + +"Because she said a man's name." + +The silence lengthened; he sat, tilted a little forward, blank gaze +focussed on the snowy window; Drina, standing, leaned back into the +hollow of his arm, absently studying her ring. + +A few moments later her music-teacher arrived, and Drina was obliged to +leave him. + +"If you don't wait until I have finished my music," she said, "you won't +see mother and Eileen. They are coming to take me to the riding-school +at four o'clock." + +He said that he couldn't stay that day; and when she had gone away to +the schoolroom he walked slowly to the window and looked out across the +snowy Park, where hundreds of children were floundering about with gaily +painted sleds. It was a pretty scene in the sunshine; crimson sweaters +and toboggan caps made vivid spots of colour on the white expanse. +Beyond, through the naked trees, he could see the drive, and the sleighs +with their brilliant scarlet plumes and running-gear flashing in the +sun. Overhead was the splendid winter blue of the New York sky, in +which, at a vast height, sea-birds circled. + +Meaning to go--for the house and its associations made him restless--he +picked up the box of violets and turned to ring for a maid to take +charge of them--and found himself confronting Eileen, who, in her furs +and gloves, was just entering the room. + +"I came up," she said; "they told me you were here, calling very +formally upon Drina, if you please. What with her monopoly of you and +Boots, there seems to be no chance for Nina and me." + +They shook hands pleasantly; he offered her the box of violets, and she +thanked him and opened it, and, lifting the heavy, perfumed bunch, bent +her fresh young face to it. For a moment she stood inhaling the scent, +then stretched out her arm, offering their fragrance to him. + +"The first night I ever knew you, you sent me about a wagon-load of +violets," she said carelessly. + +He nodded pleasantly; she tossed her muff on to the library table, +stripped off her gloves, and began to unhook her fur coat, declining his +aid with a quick shake of her head. + +"It is easy--you see!"--as the sleeves slid from her arms and the soft +mass of fur fell into a chair. "And, by the way, Drina said that you +couldn't wait to see Nina," she continued, turning to face a mirror and +beginning to withdraw the jewelled pins from her hat, "so you won't for +a moment consider it necessary to remain just because I wandered +in--will you?" + +He made no reply; she was still busy with her veil and hat and her +bright, glossy hair, the ends of which curled up at the temples--a +burnished frame for her cheeks which the cold had delicately flushed to +a wild-rost tint. Then, brushing back the upcurled tendrils of her hair, +she turned to confront him, faintly smiling, brows lifted in silent +repetition of her question. + +"I will stay until Nina comes, if I may," he said slowly. + +She seated herself. "You may," she said mockingly; "we don't allow you +in the house very often, so when you do come you may remain until the +entire family can congregate to inspect you." She leaned back, looking +at him; then look and manner changed, and she bent impulsively forward: + +"You don't look very well, Captain Selwyn; are you?" + +"Perfectly. I"--he laughed--"I am growing old; that is all." + +"Do you say that to annoy me?" she asked, with a disdainful shrug, "or +to further impress me?" + +He shook his head and touched the hair at his temples significantly. + +"Pooh!" she retorted. "It is becoming--is that what you mean?" + +"I hope it is. There's no reason why a man should not grow old +gracefully--" + +"Captain Selwyn! But of course you only say it to bring out that latent +temper of mine. It's about the only thing that does it, too. . . . And +please don't plague me--if you've only a few moments to stay. . . . It +may amuse you to know that I, too, am exhibiting signs of increasing +infirmity; my temper, if you please, is not what it once was." + +"Worse than ever?" he asked in pretended astonishment. + +"Far worse. It is vicious. Kit-Ki took a nap on a new dinner-gown of +mine, and I slapped her. And the other day Drina hid in a clothes-press +while Nina was discussing my private affairs, and when the little imp +emerged I could have shaken her. Oh, I am certainly becoming infirm; so +if you are, too, comfort yourself with the knowledge that I am keeping +pace with you through the winter of our discontent." + +At the mention of the incident of which Drina had already spoken to him, +Selwyn raised his head and looked at the girl curiously. Then he +laughed. + +"I am wondering," he said in a bantering voice, "what secrets Drina +heard. I think I'd better ask her--" + +"You had better not! Besides, _I_ said nothing at all." + +"But Nina did." + +She nodded, lying there, arms raised, hands clasping the upholstered +wings of the big chair, and gazing at him out of indolent, amused eyes. + +"Would you like to know what Nina was saying to me?" she asked. + +"I'd rather hear what you said to her." + +"I told you that I said nothing." + +"Not a word?" he insisted. + +"Not a word." + +"Not even a sound?" + +"N--well--I won't answer that." + +"Oho!" he laughed. "So you did make some sort of inarticulate reply! +Were you laughing or weeping?" + +"Perhaps I was yawning. How do you know?" she smiled. + +After a moment he said, still curious: "_Why_ were you crying, Eileen?" + +"Crying! I didn't say I was crying." + +"I assume it." + +"To prove or disprove that assumption," she said coolly, amused, "let us +hunt up a motive for a possible display of tears. What, Captain Selwyn, +have I to cry about? Is there anything in the world that I lack? +Anything that I desire and cannot have?" + +"_Is_ there?" he repeated. + +"I asked you, Captain Selwyn." + +"And, unable to reply," he said, "I ask you." + +"And I," she retorted, "refuse to answer." + +"Oho! So there _is_, then, something you lack? There _is_ a motive for +possible tears?" + +"You have not proven it," she said. + +"You have not denied it." + +She tipped back her head, linked her fingers under her chin, and looked +at him across the smooth curve of her cheeks. + +"Well--yes," she admitted, "I was crying--if you insist on knowing. Now +that you have so cleverly driven me to admit that, can you also force me +to tell you _why_ I was so tearful?" + +"Certainly," he said promptly; "it was something Nina said that made you +cry." + +They both laughed. + +"Oh, what a come-down!" she said teasingly. "You knew that before. But +can you force me to confess to you _what_ Nina was saying? If you can +you are the cleverest cross-examiner in the world, for I'd rather perish +than tell you--" + +"Oh," he said instantly, "then it was something about love!" + +He had not meant to say it; he had spoken too quickly, and the flush of +surprise on the girl's face was matched by the colour rising to his own +temples. And, to retrieve the situation, he spoke too quickly again--and +too lightly. + +"A girl would rather perish than admit that she is in love?" he said, +forcing a laugh. "That is rather a clever deduction, I think. +Unfortunately, however, I happen to know to the contrary, so all my +cleverness comes to nothing." + +The surprise had faded from her face, but the colour remained; and with +it something else--something in the blue eyes which he had never before +encountered there--the faintest trace of recoil, of shrinking away from +him. + +And she herself did not know it was there--did not quite realise that +she had been hurt. Surprise that he had chanced so abruptly, so +unerringly upon the truth had startled and confused her; but that he had +made free of the truth so lightly, so carelessly, laughingly amused, +left her without an answering smile. + +That it had been an accident--a chance surmise which perhaps he himself +did not credit--which he could not believe--made it no easier for her. +For the first time in his life he had said something which left her +unresponsive, with a sense of bruised delicacy and of privacy invaded. A +tinge of fear of him crept in, too. She did not misconstrue what he had +said under privilege of a jest, but after what had once passed between +them she had not considered that love, even in the abstract, might serve +as a mocking text for any humour or jesting sermon from a man who had +asked her what he once asked--the man she had loved enough to weep for +when she had refused him only because she lacked what he asked for. +Knowing that she loved him in her own innocent fashion, scarcely +credulous that he ever could be dearer to her, yet shyly wistful for +whatever more the years might add to her knowledge of a love so far +immune from stress or doubt or the mounting thrill of a deeper emotion, +she had remained confidently passive, warmly loyal, reverencing the +mystery of the love he offered, though she could not understand it or +respond. + +And now--now a chance turn; of a word--a trend to an idle train of +thought, jestingly followed!--and, without warning, they had stumbled on +a treasured memory, too frail, too delicately fragile, to endure the +shock. + +And now fear crept in--fear that he had forgotten, had changed. Else how +could he have spoken so? . . . And the tempered restraint of her +quivered at the thought--all the serenity, the confidence in life and in +him began to waver. And her first doubt crept in upon her. + +She turned her expressionless face from him and, resting her cheek +against the velvet back of the chair, looked out into the late afternoon +sunshine. + +All the long autumn without him, all her long, lonely, leisure hours in +the golden weather, his silence, his withdrawal into himself, and his +work, hitherto she had not misconstrued, though often she confused +herself in explaining it. Impatience of his absence, too, had stimulated +her to understand the temporary state of things--to know that time away +from him meant for her only existence in suspense. + +Very, very slowly, by degrees imperceptible, alone with memories of him +and of their summer's happiness already behind her, she had learned that +time added things to what she had once considered her full capacity for +affection. + +Alone with her memories of him, at odd moments during the day--often in +the gay clamour and crush of the social routine--or driving with Nina, +or lying, wide-eyed, on her pillow at night, she became conscious that +time, little by little, very gradually but very surely, was adding to +her regard for him frail, new, elusive elements that stole in to awake +an unquiet pulse or stir her heart into a sudden thrill, leaving it +fluttering, and a faint glow gradually spreading through her every vein. + +She was beginning to love him no longer in her own sweet fashion, but in +his; and she was vaguely aware of it, yet curiously passive and content +to put no question to herself whether it was true or false. And how it +might be with him she evaded asking herself, too; only the quickening of +breath and pulse questioned the pure thoughts unvoiced; only the +increasing impatience of her suspense confirmed the answer which now, +perhaps, she might give him one day while the blessed world was young. + +At the thought she moved uneasily, shifting her position in the chair. +Sunset, and the swift winter twilight, had tinted, then dimmed, the +light in the room. On the oak-beamed ceiling, across the ivory rosettes, +a single bar of red sunlight lay, broken by rafter and plaster +foliation. She watched it turn to rose, to ashes. And, closing her eyes, +she lay very still and motionless in the gray shadows closing over all. + +He had not yet spoken when again she lifted her eyes and saw him sitting +in the dusk, one arm resting across his knee, his body bent slightly +forward, his gaze vacant. + +Into himself again!--silently companioned by the shadows of old +thoughts; far from her--farther than he had ever been. For a while she +lay there, watching him, scarcely breathing; then a faint shiver of +utter loneliness came over her--of desire for his attention, his voice, +his friendship, and the expression of it. But he never moved; his eyes +seemed dull and unseeing; his face strangely gaunt to her, unfamiliar, +hard. In the dim light he seemed but the ghost of what she had known, of +what she had thought him--a phantom, growing vaguer, more unreal, +slipping away from her through the fading light. And the impulse to +arouse herself and him from the dim danger--to arrest the spell, to +break it, and seize what was their own in life overwhelmed her; and she +sat up, grasping the great arms of her chair, slender, straight, +white-faced in the gloom. + +But he did not stir. Then unreasoning, instinctive fear confused her, +and she heard her own voice, sounding strangely in the twilight: + +"What has come between us, Captain Selwyn? What has happened to us? +Something is all wrong, and I--I ask you what it is, because I don't +know. Tell me." + +He had lifted his head at her first word, hesitatingly, as though dazed. + +"Could you tell me?" she asked faintly. + +"Tell you what, child?" + +"Why you are so silent with me; what has crept in between us? I"--the +innocent courage sustaining her--"I have not changed--except a little +in--in the way you wished. Have you?" + +"No," he said in an altered voice. + +"Then--what is it? I have been--you have left me so much alone this +winter--and I supposed I understood--" + +"My work," he said; but she scarcely knew the voice for his. + +"I know; you have had no time. I know that; I ought to know it by this +time, for I have told myself often enough. And yet--when we _are_ +together, it is--it has been--different. Can you tell me why? Do you +think me changed?" + +"You must not change," he said. + +"No," she breathed, wondering, "I could not--except--a little, as I told +you." + +"You must not change--not even that way!" he repeated in a voice so low +she could scarcely hear him--and believed she had misunderstood him. + +"I did not hear you," she said faintly. "What did you say to me?" + +"I cannot say it again." + +She slowly shook her head, not comprehending, and for a while sat +silent, struggling with her own thoughts. Then, suddenly instinct with +the subtle fear which had driven her into speech: + +"When I said--said that to you--last summer; when I cried in the +swinging seat there--because I could not answer you--as I wished to--did +_that_ change you, Captain Selwyn?" + +"No." + +"Then y-you are unchanged?" + +"Yes, Eileen." + +The first thrill of deep emotion struck through and through her. + +"Then--then _that_ is not it," she faltered. "I was afraid--I have +sometimes wondered if it was. . . . I am very glad, Captain +Selwyn. . . . Will you wait a--a little longer--for me to--to change?" + +He stood up suddenly in the darkness, and she sprang to her feet, +breathless; for she had caught the low exclamation, and the strange +sound that stifled it in his throat. + +"Tell me," she stammered, "w-what has happened. D-don't turn away to the +window; don't leave me all alone to endure this--this _something_ I have +known was drawing you away--I don't know where! What is it? Could you +not tell _me_, Captain Selwyn? I--I have been very frank with you; I +have been truthful--and loyal. I gave you, from the moment I knew you, +all of me there was to give. And--and if there is more to give--now--it +was yours when it came to me. + +"Do you think I am too young to know what I am saying? Solitude is a +teacher. I--I am still a scholar, perhaps, but I think that you could +teach me what my drill-master, Solitude, could not . . . if it--it is +true you love me." + +The mounting sea of passion swept him; he turned on her, unsteadily, his +hands clenched, not daring to touch her. Shame, contrition, horror that +the damage was already done, all were forgotten; only the deadly grim +duty of the moment held him back. + +"Dear," he said, "because I am unchanged--because I--I love you so--help +me!--and God help us both." + +"Tell me," she said steadily, but it was fear that stilled her voice. +She laid one slim hand on the table, bearing down on the points of her +fingers until the nails whitened, but her head was high and her eyes met +his, straight, unwavering. + +"I--I knew it," she said; "I understood there was something. If it is +trouble--and I see it is--bring it to me. If I am the woman you took me +for, give me my part in this. It is the quickest way to my heart, +Captain Selwyn." + +But he had grown afraid, horribly afraid. All the cowardice in him was +in the ascendant. But that passed; watching his worn face, she saw it +passing. Fear clutched at her; for the first time in her life she +desired to go to him, hold fast to him, seeking in contact the +reassurance of his strength; but she only stood straighter, a little +paler, already half divining in the clairvoyance of her young soul what +lay still hidden. + +"Do you ask a part in this?" he said at last. + +"I ask it." + +"Why?" + +Her eyes wavered, then returned his gaze: + +"For love of you," she said, as white as death. + +He caught his breath sharply and straightened out, passing one hand +across his eyes. When she saw his face again in the dim light it was +ghastly. + +"There was a woman," he said, "for whom I was once responsible." He +spoke wearily, head bent, resting the weight of one arm on the table +against which she leaned. "Do you understand?" he asked. + +"Yes. You mean--Mrs. Ruthven." + +"I mean--her. Afterward--when matters had altered--I came--home." + +He raised his head and looked about him in the darkness. + +"Came home," he repeated, "no longer a man; the shadow of a man, with no +hope, no outlook, no right to hope." + +He leaned heavily on the table, his arm rigid, looking down at the floor +as he spoke. + +"No right to hope. Others told me that I still possessed that right. I +knew they were wrong; I do not mean that they persuaded me--I persuaded +myself that, after all, perhaps my right to hope remained to me. I +persuaded myself that I might be, after all, the substance, not the +shadow." + +He looked up at her: + +"And so I dared to love you." + +She gazed at him, scarcely breathing. + +"Then," he said, "came the awakening. My dream had ended." + +She waited, the lace on her breast scarce stirring, so still she stood, +so pitifully still. + +"Such responsibility cannot die while those live who undertook it. I +believed it until I desired to believe it no longer. But a man's +self-persuasion cannot alter such laws--nor can human laws confirm or +nullify them, nor can a great religion do more than admit their truth, +basing its creed upon such laws. . . . No man can put asunder, no laws +of man undo the burden. . . . And, to my shame and disgrace, I have had +to relearn this after offering you a love I had no right to offer--a +life which is not my own to give." + +He took one step toward her, and his voice fell so low that she could +just hear him: + +"She has lost her mind, and the case is hopeless. Those to whom the laws +of the land have given care of her turned on her, threatened her with +disgrace. And when one friend of hers halted this miserable conspiracy, +her malady came swiftly upon her, and suddenly she found herself +helpless, penniless, abandoned, her mind already clouded, and clouding +faster! . . . Eileen, was there then the shadow of a doubt as to the +responsibility? Because a man's son was named in the parable, does the +lesson end there--and are there no others as prodigal--no other bonds +that hold as inexorably as the bond of love? + +"Men--a lawyer or two--a referee--decided to remove a burden; but a +higher court has replaced it." + +He came and stood directly before her: + +"I dare not utter one word of love to you; I dare not touch you. What +chance is there for such a man as I?" + +"No chance--for us," she whispered. "Go!" + +For a second he stood motionless, then, swaying slightly, turned on his +heel. + +And long after he had left the house she still stood there, eyes closed, +colourless lips set, her slender body quivering, racked with the first +fierce grief of a woman's love for a man. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +HER WAY + + +Neergard had already begun to make mistakes. The first was in thinking +that, among those whose only distinction was their wealth, his own +wealth permitted him the same insolence and ruthlessness that so +frequently characterised them. + +Clever, vindictively patient, circumspect, and commercially competent as +he had been, his intelligence was not of a high order. The intelligent +never wilfully make enemies; Neergard made them gratuitously, cynically +kicking from under him the props he used in mounting the breach, and +which he fancied he no longer needed as a scaffolding now that he had +obtained a foothold on the outer wall. Thus he had sneeringly dispensed +with Gerald; thus he had shouldered Fane and Harmon out of his way when +they objected to the purchase of Neergard's acreage adjoining the +Siowitha preserve, and its incorporation as an integral portion of the +club tract; thus he was preparing to rid himself of Ruthven for another +reason. But he was not yet quite ready to spurn Ruthven, because he +wanted a little more out of him--just enough to place himself on a +secure footing among those of the younger set where Ruthven, as hack +cotillon leader, was regarded by the young with wide-eyed awe. + +Why Neergard, who had forced himself into the Siowitha, ever came to +commit so gross a blunder as to dragoon, or even permit, the club to +acquire the acreage, the exploiting of which had threatened their +existence, is not very clear. + +Once within the club he may have supposed himself perpetually safe, not +only because of his hold on Ruthven, but also because, back of his +unflagging persistence, back of his determination to shoulder and push +deep into the gilded, perfumed crush where purse-strings and morals were +loosened with every heave and twist in the panting struggle around the +raw gold altar--back of the sordid past, back of all the resentment, and +the sinister memory of wrongs and grievances, still unbalanced, lay an +enormous vanity. + +It was the vanity in him--even in the bitter days--that throbbed with +the agony of the bright world's insolence; it was vanity which sustained +him in better days where he sat nursing in his crooked mind the crooked +thoughts that swarmed there. His desire for position and power was that; +even his yearning for corruption was but the desire for the satiation of +a vanity as monstrous as it was passionless. His to have what was shared +by those he envied--the power to pick and choose, to ignore, to punish. +His to receive, not to seek; to dispense, not to stand waiting for his +portion; his the freedom of the forbidden, of everything beyond him, of +all withheld, denied by this bright, loose-robed, wanton-eyed goddess +from whose invisible altar he had caught a whiff of sacrificial odours, +standing there through the wintry years in the squalor and reek of +things. + +Now he had arrived among those outlying camps where camp-followers and +masters mingled. Certain card-rooms were open to him, certain +drawing-rooms, certain clubs. Through them he shouldered, thrilled as +he advanced deeper into the throng, fired with the contact of the crush +around him. + +Already the familiarity of his appearance and his name seemed to +sanction his presence; two minor clubs, but good ones--in need of +dues--had strained at this social camel and swallowed him. Card-rooms +welcomed him--not the rooms once flung open contemptuously for his +plucking--but rooms where play was fiercer, and where those who faced +him expected battle to the limit. + +And they got it, for he no longer felt obliged to lose. And that again +was a mistake: he could not yet afford to win. + +Thick in the chance and circumstance of the outer camp, heavily involved +financially and already a crushing financial force, meshed in, or +spinning in his turn the strands and counter-strands of intrigue, with a +dozen men already mortally offended and a woman or two alarmed or +half-contemptuously on guard, flattered, covetous, or afraid, the limit +of Neergard's intelligence was reached; his present horizon ended the +world for him because he could not imagine anything beyond it; and that +smirking vanity which had 'squired him so far, hat in hand, now plucked +off its mask and leered boldly about in the wake of its close-eyed +master. + +George Fane, unpleasantly involved in Block Copper, angry, but not very +much frightened, turned in casual good faith to Neergard to ease matters +until he could cover. And Neergard locked him in the tighter and +shouldered his way through Rosamund's drawing-room to the sill of Sanxon +Orchil's outer office, treading brutally on Harmon's heels. + +Harmon in disgust, wrath, and fear went to Craig; Craig to Maxwell +Hunt; Hunt wired Mottly; Mottly, cold and sleek in his contempt, came +from Palm Beach. + +The cohesive power of caste is an unknown element to the outsider. + +That he had unwittingly and prematurely aroused some unsuspected force +on which he had not counted and of which he had no definite knowledge +was revealed to Neergard when he desired Rosamund to obtain for him an +invitation to the Orchils' ball. + +It appeared that she could not do so--that even the threatened tendency +of Block Copper could not sharpen her wits to devise a way for him. Very +innocently she told him that Jack Ruthven was leading the Chinese +Cotillon with Mrs. Delmour-Carnes from one end, Gerald Erroll with +Gladys from the other--a hint that a card ought to be easy enough to +obtain in spite of the strangely forgetful Orchils. + +Long since he had fixed upon Gladys Orchil as the most suitable silent +partner for the unbuilt house of Neergard, unconcerned that rumour was +already sending her abroad for the double purpose of getting rid of +Gerald and of giving deserving aristocracy a look-in at the fresh youth +of her and her selling price. + +Nothing, so far, had checked his progress; why should rumour? Elbow and +money had shoved him on and on, shoulder-deep where his thin nose +pointed, crowding aside and out of his way whatever was made to be +crowded out; and going around, hat off, whatever remained arrogantly +immovable. + +So he had come, on various occasions, close to the unruffled skirts of +this young girl--not yet, however, in her own house. But Sanxon Orchil +had recently condescended to turn around in his office chair and leave +his amusing railroad combinations long enough to divide with Neergard a +quarter of a million copper profits; and there was another turn to be +expected when Neergard gave the word. + +Therefore, it puzzled and confused Neergard to be overlooked where the +gay world had been summoned with an accompanying blast from the public +press; therefore he had gone to Rosamund with the curtest of hints; but +he had remained, standing before her, checked, not condescending to +irritation, but mentally alert to a new element of resistance which he +had not expected--a new force, palpable, unlooked for, unclassified as +yet in his schedule for his life's itinerary. That force was the +cohesive power of abstract caste in the presence of a foreign irritant +threatening its atomic disintegration. That foreign and irritating +substance was himself. But he had forgotten in his vanity that which in +his rawer shrewdness he should have remembered. Eternal vigilance was +the price; not the cancelled vouchers of the servitude of dead years and +the half-servile challenge of the strange new days when his vanity had +dared him to live. + + * * * * * + +Rosamund, smoothly groomed, golden-headed, and smiling, rose as Neergard +moved slowly forward to take his leave. + +"So stupid of them to have overlooked you," she said; "and I should have +thought Gladys would have remembered--unless--" + +His close-set eyes focussed so near her own that she stopped, +involuntarily occupied with the unusual phenomenon. + +"Unless what?" he asked. + +She was all laughing polished surface again. "Unless Gladys's +intellect, which has only room for one idea at a time, is already fully +occupied." + +"With what?" he demanded. + +"Oh, with that Gerald boy "--she shrugged indulgently--"perhaps with her +pretty American Grace and the outlook for the Insular invasion." + +Neergard's apple face was dull and mottled, and on the thin bridge of +his nose the sweat glistened. He did not know what she meant; and she +knew he did not. + +As he turned to go she paced him a step or two across the rose-and-gold +reception-room, hands linked behind her back, bending forward slightly +as she moved beside him. + +"Gerald, poor lad, is to be disciplined," she observed. "The prettiest +of American duchesses takes her over next spring; and Heaven knows the +household cavalry needs green forage . . . Besides, even Jack Ruthven +may stand the chance they say he stands if it is true he has made up his +mind to sue for his divorce." + +Neergard wheeled on her; the sweat on his nose had become a bright bead. + +"Where did you hear that?" he asked. + +"What? About Jack Ruthven?" Her smooth shoulders fluttered her answer. + +"You mean it's talked about?" he insisted. + +"In some sets," she said with an indifference which coolly excluded the +probability that he could have been in any position to hear what was +discussed in those sets. + +Again he felt the check of something intangible but real; and the vanity +in him, flicked on the raw, peered out at her from his close-set eyes. +For a moment he measured her from the edge of her skirt to her golden +head, insolently. + +"You might remind your husband," he said, "that I'd rather like to have +a card to the Orchil affair." + +"There is no use in speaking to George," she replied regretfully, +shaking her head. + +"Try it," returned Neergard with the hint of a snarl; and he took his +leave, and his hat from the man in waiting, who looked after him with +the slightest twitching of his shaven upper lip. For the lifting of an +eyebrow in the drawing-rooms becomes warrant for a tip that runs very +swiftly below stairs. + +That afternoon, alone in his office, Neergard remembered Gerald. And for +the first time he understood the mistake of making an enemy out of what +he had known only as a friendly fool. + +But it was a detail, after all--merely a slight error in assuming too +early an arrogance he could have afforded to wait for. He had waited a +long, long while for some things. + +As for Fane, he had him locked up with his short account. No doubt he'd +hear from the Orchils through the Fanes. However, to clinch the matter, +he thought he might as well stop in to see Ruthven. A plain word or two +to Ruthven indicating his own wishes--perhaps outlining his policy +concerning the future house of Neergard--might as well be delivered now +as later. + +So that afternoon he took a hansom at Broad and Wall streets and rolled +smoothly uptown, not seriously concerned, but willing to have a brief +understanding with Ruthven on one or two subjects. + +As his cab drove up to the intricately ornamental little house of gray +stone, a big touring limousine wheeled out from the curb, and he caught +sight of Sanxon Orchil and Phoenix Mottly inside, evidently just leaving +Ruthven. + +His smiling and very cordial bow was returned coolly by Orchil, and +apparently not observed at all by Mottly. He sat a second in his cab, +motionless, the obsequious smile still stencilled on his flushed face; +then the flush darkened; he got out of his cab and, bidding the man +wait, rang at the house of Ruthven. + +Admitted, it was a long while before he was asked to mount the carved +stairway of stone. And when he did, on every step, hand on the bronze +rail, he had the same curious sense of occult resistance to his physical +progress; the same instinct of a new element arising into the scheme of +things the properties of which he felt a sudden fierce desire to test +and comprehend. + +Ruthven in a lounging suit of lilac silk, sashed in with flexible +silver, stood with his back to the door as Neergard was announced; and +even after he was announced Ruthven took his time to turn and stare and +nod with a deliberate negligence that accented the affront. + +Neergard sat down; Ruthven gazed out of the window, then, soft thumbs +hooked in his sash, turned leisurely in impudent interrogation. + +"What the hell is the matter with you?" asked Neergard, for the subtle +something he had been encountering all day had suddenly seemed to wall +him out of all he had conquered, forcing him back into the simpler +sordid territory where ways and modes of speech were more familiar to +him--where the spontaneous crudity of expression belonged among the +husks of all he had supposed discarded for ever. + +"Really," observed Ruthven, staring at the seated man, "I scarcely +understand your remark." + +"Well, you'll understand it perhaps when I choose to explain it," said +Neergard. "I see there's some trouble somewhere. What is it? What's the +matter with Orchil, and that hatchet-faced beagle-pup, Mottly? _Is_ +there anything the matter, Jack?" + +"Nothing important," said Ruthven with an intonation which troubled +Neergard. "Did you come here to--ah--ask anything of me? Very glad to do +anything, I'm sure." + +"Are you? Well, then, I want a card to the Orchils'." + +Ruthven raised his brows slightly; and Neergard waited, then repeated +his demand. + +Ruthven began to explain, rather languidly, that it was impossible; +but--"I want it," insisted the other doggedly. + +"I can't be of any service to you in this instance." + +"Oh, yes, I think you can. I tell you I want that card. Do you +understand plain speech?" + +"Ya-as," drawled Ruthven, seating himself a trifle wearily among his +cushions, "but yours is so--ah--very plain--quite elemental, you know. +You ask for a bid to the Orchils'; I tell you quite seriously I can't +secure one for you." + +"You'd better think it over," said Neergard menacingly. + +"Awfully sorry." + +"You mean you won't?" + +"Ah--quite so." + +Neergard's thin nose grew white and tremulous: + +"Why?" + +"You insist?" in mildly bored deprecation. + +"Yes, I insist. Why can't you--or why won't you?" + +"Well, if you really insist, they--ah--don't want you, Neergard." + +"Who--why--how do you happen to know that they don't? Is this some petty +spite of that young cub, Gerald? Or"--and he almost looked at +Ruthven--"is this some childish whim of yours?" + +"Oh, really now--" + +"Yes, really now," sneered Neergard, "you'd better tell me. And you'd +better understand, now, once for all, just exactly what I've outlined +for myself--so you can steer clear of the territory I operate in." He +clasped his blunt fingers and leaned forward, projecting his whole body, +thick legs curled under; but his close-set eyes still looked past +Ruthven. + +"I need a little backing," he said, "but I can get along without it. And +what I'm going to do is to marry Miss Orchil. Now you know; now you +understand. I don't care a damn about the Erroll boy; and I think I'll +discount right now any intentions of any married man to bother Miss +Orchil after some Dakota decree frees him from the woman whom he's +driven into an asylum." + +Ruthven looked at him curiously: + +"So that is discounted, is it?" + +"I think so," nodded Neergard. "I don't think that man will try to +obtain a divorce until I say the word." + +"Oh! Why not?" + +"Because of my knowledge concerning that man's crooked methods in +obtaining for me certain options that meant ruin to his own country +club," said Neergard coolly. + +"I see. How extraordinary! But the club has bought in all that land, +hasn't it?" + +"Yes--but the stench of your treachery remains, my friend." + +"Not treachery, only temptation," observed Ruthven blandly. "I've talked +it all over with Orchil and Mottly--" + +"You--_what_!" gasped Neergard. + +"Talked about it," repeated Ruthven, hard face guileless, and raising +his eyebrows--a dreadful caricature of youth in the misleading +smoothness of the minutely shaven face; "I told Orchil what you +persuaded me to do--" + +"You--you damned--" + +"Not at all, not at all!" protested Ruthven, languidly settling himself +once more among the cushions. "And by the way," he added, "there's a +law--by-law--something or other, that I understand may interest you"--he +looked up at Neergard, who had sunk back in his chair--"about unpaid +assessments--" + +Neergard now for the first time was looking directly at him. + +"Unpaid assessments," repeated Ruthven. "It's a, detail--a law--never +enforced unless we--ah--find it convenient to rid ourselves of a member. +It's rather useful, you see, in such a case--a technical pretext, you +know. . . . I forget the exact phrasing; something about' ceases to +retain his membership, and such shares of stock as he may own in the +said club shall be appraised and delivered to the treasurer upon receipt +of the value'--or something like that." + +Still Neergard looked at him, hunched up in his chair, chin sunk on his +chest. + +"Thought it just as well to mention it," said Ruthven blandly, "as +they've seen fit to take advantage of the--ah--opportunity--under legal +advice. You'll hear from the secretary, I fancy--Mottly, you know. . . . +_Is_ there anything more, Neergard?" + +Neergard scarcely heard him. He had listened, mechanically, when told in +as many words that he had been read out of the Siowitha Club; he +understood that he stood alone, discarded, disgraced, with a certain +small coterie of wealthy men implacably hostile to him. But it was not +that which occupied him: he was face to face with the new element of +which he had known nothing--the subtle, occult resistance to himself and +his personality, all that he represented, embodied, stood for, hoped +for. + +And for the first time he realised that among the ruthless, no +ruthlessness was permitted him; among the reckless, circumspection had +been required of him; no arrogance, no insolence had been permitted +him among the arrogant and insolent; for, when such as he turned +threateningly upon one of those belonging to that elemental matrix +of which he dared suppose himself an integral part, he found that +he was mistaken. Danger to one from such as he endangered their +common caste--such as it was. And, silently, subtly, all through +that portion of the social fabric, he became slowly sensible of +resistance--resistance everywhere, from every quarter. + +Now, hunched up there in his chair, he began to understand. If Ruthven +had been a blackguard--it was not for him to punish him--no, not even +threaten to expose him. His own caste would take care of that; his own +sort would manage such affairs. Meanwhile Neergard had presumed to annoy +them, and the society into which he had forced himself and which he had +digestively affected, was now, squid-like, slowly turning itself inside +out to expel him as a foreign substance from which such unimportant +nutrition as he had afforded had been completely extracted. + +He looked at Ruthven, scarcely seeing him. Finally he gathered his thick +legs under to support him as he rose, stupidly, looking about for his +hat. + +Ruthven rang for a servant; when he came Neergard followed him without a +word, small eyes vacant, the moisture powdering the ridge of his nose, +his red blunt hands dangling as he walked. Behind him a lackey laughed. + + * * * * * + +In due time Neergard, who still spent his penny on a morning paper, read +about the Orchil ball. There were three columns and several pictures. He +read all there was to read about--the sickeningly minute details of +jewels and costumes, the sorts of stuffs served at supper, the cotillon, +the favours--then, turning back, he read about the dozen-odd separate +hostesses who had entertained the various coteries and sets at separate +dinners before the ball--read every item, every name, to the last +imbecile period. + +Then he rose wearily, and started downtown to see what his lawyers could +do toward reinstating him in a club that had expelled him--to find out +if there remained the slightest trace of a chance in the matter. But +even as he went he knew there could be none. The squid had had its will +with him, not he with the squid; and within him rose again all the old +hatred and fear of these people from whom he had desired to extract full +payment for the black days of need he had endured, for the want, the +squalor, the starvation he had passed through. + +But the reckoning left him where he had started--save for the money they +had used when he forced it on them--not thanking him. + +So he went to his lawyers--every day for a while, then every week, +then, toward the end of winter, less often, for he had less time now, +and there was a new pressure which he was beginning to feel vaguely +hostile to him in his business enterprises--hitches in the negotiations +of loans, delays, perhaps accidental, but annoying; changes of policy in +certain firms who no longer cared to consider acreage as investment; and +a curiously veiled antagonism to him in a certain railroad, the +reorganisation of which he had dared once to aspire to. + +And one day, sitting alone in his office, a clerk brought him a morning +paper with one column marked in a big blue-pencilled oval. + +It was only about a boy and a girl who had run away and married because +they happened to be in love, although their parents had prepared other +plans for their separate disposal. The column was a full one, the +heading in big type--a good deal of pother about a boy and a girl, after +all, particularly as it appeared that their respective families had +determined to make the best of it. Besides, the girl's parents had other +daughters growing up; and the prettiest of American duchesses would no +doubt remain amiable. As for the household cavalry, probably some of +them were badly in need of forage, but that thin red line could hold out +until the younger sisters shed pinafores. So, after all, in spite of +double leads and the full column, the runaways could continue their +impromptu honeymoon without fear of parents, duchess, or a rescue charge +from that thin, red, and impecunious line. + + * * * * * + +It took Neergard all day to read that column before he folded it away +and pigeonholed it among a lot of dusty documents--uncollected claims, a +memorandum of a deal with Ruthven, a note from an actress, and the +papers in his case against the Siowitha Club which would never come to +a suit--he knew it now--never amount to anything. So among these +archives of dead desires, dead hopes, and of vengeance deferred _sine +die_, he laid away the soiled newspaper. + +Then he went home, very tired with a mental lassitude that depressed him +and left him drowsy in his great arm-chair before the grate--too drowsy +and apathetic to examine the letters and documents laid out for him by +his secretary, although one of them seemed to be important--something +about alienation of affections, something about a yacht and Mrs. +Ruthven, and a heavy suit to be brought unless other settlement was +suggested as a balm to Mr. Ruthven. + +To dress for dinner was an effort--a purely mechanical operation which +was only partly successful, although his man aided him. But he was too +tired to continue the effort; and at last it was his man alone who +disembarrassed him of his heavy clothing and who laid him among the +bedclothes, where he sank back, relaxed, breathing loudly in the +dreadful depressed stupor of utter physical and neurotic prostration. + +Meaningless to him the hurriedly intrusive attorneys--his own and +Ruthven's--who forced their way in that night--or was it the next, or +months later? A weight like the weight of death lay on him, mind and +body. If he comprehended what threatened, what was coming, he did not +care. The world passed on, leaving him lying there, nerveless, +exhausted, a derelict on a sea too stormy for such as he--a wreck that +might have sailed safely in narrower waters. + +And some day he'd be patched up and set afloat once more to cruise and +operate and have his being in the safer and smaller seas; some day, when +the nerve crash had subsided and the slow, wounded mind came back to +itself, and its petty functions were once more resumed--its envious +scheming, its covetous capability, its vicious achievement. For with him +achievement could embody only the meaner imitations of the sheer +colossal _coups_ by which the great financiers gutted a nation with +kid-gloved fingers, and changed their gloves after the operation so that +no blood might stick to Peter's pence or smear the corner-stones of +those vast and shadowy institutions upreared in restitution--black +silhouettes against the infernal sunset of lives that end in the shadowy +death of souls. + + * * * * * + +Even before Neergard's illness Ruthven's domestic and financial affairs +were in a villainous mess. Rid of Neergard, he had meant to deal him a +crashing blow at the breakaway which would settle him for ever and +incidentally bring to a crisis his own status in regard to his wife. + +Whether or not his wife was mentally competent he did not know; he did +not know anything about her. But he meant to. Selwyn's threat, still +fairly fresh in his memory, had given him no definite idea of Alixe, her +whereabouts, her future plans, and whether or not her mental condition +was supposed to be permanently impaired or otherwise. + +That she had been, and probably now was, under Selwyn's protection he +believed; what she and Selwyn intended to do he did not know. But he +wanted to know; he dared not ask Selwyn--dared not, because he was +horribly afraid of Selwyn; dared not yet make a legal issue of their +relations, of her sequestration, or of her probable continued infirmity, +because of his physical fear of the man. + +But there was--or he thought that there had been--one way to begin the +matter, because the matter must sooner or later be begun: and that was +to pretend to assume Neergard responsible; and, on the strength of his +wife's summer sojourn aboard the _Niobrara_, turn on Neergard and demand +a reckoning which he believed Selwyn would never hear of, because he did +not suppose Neergard dared defend the suit, and would sooner or later +compromise. Which would give him what he wanted to begin with, money, +and the entering wedge against the wife he meant to be rid of in one way +or another, even if he had to swear out a warrant against Selwyn before +he demanded a commission to investigate her mental condition. + +Ruthven was too deadly afraid of Selwyn to begin suit at that stage of +the proceedings. All he could do was to start, through his attorneys, a +search for his wife, and meanwhile try to formulate some sort of +definite plan in regard to Gladys Orchil; for if that featherbrained +youngster went abroad in the spring he meant to follow her and not only +have the Atlantic between him and Selwyn when he began final suit for +freedom, but also be in a position to ride off any of the needy +household cavalry who might come caracolling and cavorting too close to +the young girl he had selected to rehabilitate the name, fortune, and +house of Ruthven. + +This, in brief, was Ruthven's general scheme of campaign; and the entire +affair had taken some sort of shape, and was slowly beginning to move, +when Neergard's illness came as an absolute check, just as the first +papers were about to be served on him. + +There was nothing to do but wait until Neergard got well, because his +attorneys simply scoffed at any suggestion of settlement _ex curia_, and +Ruthven didn't want a suit involving his wife's name while he and +Selwyn were in the same hemisphere. + +But he could still continue an unobtrusive search for the whereabouts of +his wife, which he did. And the chances were that his attorneys would +find her without great difficulty, because Selwyn had not the slightest +suspicion that he was being followed. + + * * * * * + +In these days Selwyn's life was methodical and colourless in its routine +to the verge of dreariness. + +When he was not at the Government proving grounds on Sandy Hook he +remained in his room at Lansing's, doggedly forcing himself into the +only alternate occupation sufficient to dull the sadness of his +mind--the preparation of a history of British military organisation in +India, and its possible application to present conditions in the +Philippines. + +He had given up going out--made no further pretense; and Boots let him +alone. + +Once a week he called at the Gerards', spending most of his time while +there with the children. Sometimes he saw Nina and Eileen, usually just +returned or about to depart for some function; and his visit, as a rule, +ended with a cup of tea alone with Austin, and a quiet cigar in the +library, where Kit-Ki sat, paws folded under, approving of the fireside +warmth in a pleasureable monotone. + +On such evenings, late, if Nina and Eileen had gone to a dance, or to +the opera with Boots, Austin, ruddy with well-being and shamelessly +slippered, stretched luxuriously in the fire warmth, lazily discussing +what was nearest to him--his children and wife, and the material comfort +which continued to attend him with the blessing of that heaven which +seems so largely occupied in fulfilling the desires of the good for +their own commercial prosperity. + +Too, he had begun to show a peculiar pride in the commercial development +of Gerald, speaking often of his gratifying application to business, the +stability of his modest position, the friends he was making among men of +substance, their regard for him. + +"Not that the boy is doing much of a business yet," he would say with a +tolerant shrug of his big fleshy shoulders, "but he's laying the +foundation for success--a good, upright, solid foundation--with the +doubtful scheming of Neergard left out"--at that time Neergard had not +yet gone to pieces, physically--"and I expect to aid him when aid is +required, and to extend to him, judiciously, such assistance, from time +to time, as I think he may require. . . . There's one thing--" + +Austin puffed once or twice at his cigar and frowned; and Selwyn, +absently watching the dying embers on the hearth, waited in silence. + +"One thing," repeated Austin, reaching for the tongs and laying a log of +white birch across the coals; "and that is Gerald's fondness for pretty +girls. . . . Not that it isn't all right, too, but I hope he isn't going +to involve himself--hang a millstone around his neck before he can see +his way clear to some promise of a permanent income based on--" + +"Pooh!" said Selwyn. + +"What's that?" demanded Austin, turning red. + +Selwyn laughed. "What did you have when you married my sister?" + +Austin, still red and dignified, said: + +"Your sister is a very remarkable woman--extremely unusual. I had the +good sense to see that the first time I ever met her." + +"Gerald will see the same thing when his time comes," said Selwyn +quietly. "Don't worry, Austin; he's sound at the core." + +Austin considered his cigar-end, turning it round and round. "There's +good stock in the boy; I always knew it--even when he acted like a +yellow pup. You see, Phil, that my treatment of him was the proper +treatment. I was right in refusing to mollycoddle him or put up with any +of his callow, unbaked impudence. You know yourself that you wanted me +to let up on him--make all kinds of excuses. Why, man, if I had given +him an inch leeway he'd have been up to his ears in debt. But I was +firm. He saw I'd stand no fooling. He didn't dare contract debts which +he couldn't pay. So now, Phil, you can appreciate the results of my +attitude toward him." + +"I can, indeed," said Selwyn thoughtfully. + +"I think I've made a man of him," persisted Austin. + +"He's certainly a manly fellow," nodded Selwyn. + +"You admit it?" + +"Certainly, Austin." + +"Well, I'm glad of it. You thought me harsh--oh, I know you did!--but I +don't blame you. I knew what I was about. Why, Phil, if I hadn't taken +the firm stand I took that boy would have been running to Nina and +Eileen--he did go to his sister once, but he never dared try it +again!--and he'd probably have borrowed money of Neergard and--by Jove! +he might even have come to you to get him out of his scrapes!" + +"Oh, scarcely that," protested Selwyn with grave humour. + +"That's all you know about it," nodded Austin, wise-eyed, smoking +steadily. "And all I have to say is that it's fortunate for everybody +that I stood my ground when he came around looking for trouble. For +you're just the sort of a man, Phil, who'd be likely to strip yourself +if that young cub came howling for somebody to pay his debts of honour. +Admit it, now; you know you are." + +But Selwyn only smiled and looked into the fire. + +After a few moments' silence Austin said curiously: "You're a frugal +bird. You used to be fastidious. Do you know that coat of yours is +nearly the limit?" + +"Nonsense," said Selwyn, colouring. + +"It is. . . . What do you do with your money? Invest it, of course; but +you ought to let me place it. You never spend any; you should have a +decent little sum tucked away by this time. Do your Chaosite experiments +cost anything now?" + +"No; the Government is conducting them." + +"Good business. What does the bally Government think of the powder, +now?" + +"I can't tell yet," said Selwyn listlessly. "There's a plate due to +arrive to-morrow; it represents a section of the side armour of one of +the new 22,000-ton battleships. . . . I hope to crack it." + +"Oh!--with a bursting charge?" + +Selwyn nodded, and rested his head on his hand. + +A little later Austin cast the remains of his cigar from him, +straightened up, yawned, patted his waistcoat, and looked wisely at the +cat. + +"I'm going to bed," he announced. "Boots is to bring back Nina +and Eileen. . . . You don't mind, do you, Phil? I've a busy day +to-morrow. . . . There's Scotch over there--you know where things are. +Ring if you have a sudden desire for anything funny like peacock +feathers on toast. There's cold grouse somewhere underground if you're +going to be an owl. . . . And don't feed that cat on the rugs. . . . +Good-night." + +"Good-night," nodded Selwyn, relighting his cigar. + +He had no intention of remaining very long; he supposed that his sister +and Eileen would be out late, wherever they were, and he merely meant to +dream a bit longer before going back to bed. + +He had been smoking for half an hour perhaps, lying deep in his chair, +worn features dully illuminated by the sinking fire; and he was thinking +about going--had again relighted his partly consumed cigar to help him +with its fragrant companionship on his dark route homeward, when he +heard a footfall on the landing, and turned to catch a glimpse of Gerald +in overcoat and hat, moving silently toward the stairs. + +"Hello, old fellow!" he said, surprised. "I didn't know you were in the +house." + +The boy hesitated, turned, placed something just outside the doorway, +and came quickly into the room. + +"Philip!" he said with a curious, excited laugh, "I want to ask you +something. I never yet came to you without asking something and--you +never have failed me. Would you tell me now what I had better do?" + +"Certainly," said Selwyn, surprised and smiling; "ask me, old fellow. +You're not eloping with some nice girl, are you?" + +"Yes," said Gerald, calm in his excitement, "I am." + +"What?" repeated Selwyn gravely; "what did you say? + +"You guessed it. I came home and dressed and I'm going back to the +Craigs' to marry a girl whose mother and father won't let me have her." + +"Sit down, Gerald," said Selwyn, removing the cigar from his lips; but: + +"I haven't time," said the boy. "I simply want to know what you'd do if +you loved a girl whose mother means to send her to London to get rid +of me and marry her to that yawning Elliscombe fellow who was over +here. . . . What would you do? She's too young to stand much of a siege +in London--some Englishman will get her if he persists--and I mean to +make her love me." + +"Oh! Doesn't she?" + +"Y-es. . . . You know how young girls are. Yes, she does--now. But a +year or two with that crowd--and the duchess being good to her, and +Elliscombe yawning and looking like a sleepy Lohengrin or some damned +prince in his Horse Guards' helmet!--Selwyn, I can see the end of it. +She can't stand it; she's too young not to get over it. . . . So, what +would you do?" + +"Who is she, Gerald?" + +"I won't tell you." + +"Oh! . . . Of course she's the right sort?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Young?" + +"Very. Out last season." + +Selwyn rose and began to pace the floor; Kit-Ki, disturbed, looked up, +then resumed her purring. + +"There's nothing dishonourable in this, of course," said Selwyn, halting +short. + +"No," said the boy. "I went to her mother and asked for her, and was +sent about my business. Then I went to her father. You know him. He was +decent, bland, evasive, but decent. Said his daughter needed a couple of +seasons in London; hinted of some prior attachment. Which is rot; +because she loves me--she admits it. Well, I said to him, 'I'm going to +marry Gladys'; and he laughed and tried to look at his moustache; and +after a while he asked to be excused. I took the count. Then I saw +Gladys at the Craigs', and I said, 'Gladys, if you'll give up the whole +blooming heiress business and come with me, I'll make you the happiest +girl in Manhattan.' And she looked me straight in the eyes and said, +'I'd rather grow up with you than grow old forgetting you.'" + +"Did she say that?" asked Selwyn. + +"She said,'We've the greatest chance in the world, Gerald, to make +something of each other. Is it a good risk?' And I said, 'It is the best +risk in the world if you love me.' And she said, 'I do, dearly; I'll +take my chance.' And that's how it stands, Philip. . . . She's at the +Craigs'--a suit-case and travelling-gown upstairs. Suddy Gray and Betty +Craig are standing for it, and"--with a flush--"there's a little church, +you know--" + +"Around the corner. I know. Did you telephone?" + +"Yes." + +There was a pause; the older man dropped his hands into his pockets and +stepped quietly in front of Gerald; and for a full minute they looked +squarely at one another, unwinking. + +"Well?" asked Gerald, almost tremulously. "Can't you say, 'Go ahead!'?" + +"Don't ask me." + +"No, I won't," said the boy simply. "A man doesn't ask about such +matters; he does them. . . . Tell Austin and Nina. . . . And give this +note to Eileen." He opened a portfolio and laid an envelope in Selwyn's +hands. "And--by George!--I almost forgot! Here"--and he laid a check +across the note in Selwyn's hand--"here's the balance of what you've +advanced me. Thank God, I've made it good, every cent. But the debt is +only the deeper. . . . Good-bye, Philip." + +Selwyn held the boy's hand a moment. Once or twice Gerald thought he +meant to speak, and waited, but when he became aware of the check thrust +back at him he forced it on Selwyn again, laughing: + +"No! no! If I did not stand clear and free in my shoes do you think I'd +dare do what I'm doing? Do you suppose I'd ask a girl to face with me a +world in which I owed a penny? Do you suppose I'm afraid of that +world?--or of a soul in it? Do you suppose I can't take a living out of +it?" + +Suddenly Selwyn crushed the boy's hand. + +"Then take it!--and her, too!" he said between his teeth; and turned on +his heel, resting his arms on the mantel and his head face downward +between them. + +So Gerald went away in the pride and excitement of buoyant youth to take +love as he found it and where he found it--though he had found it only +as the green bud of promise which unfolds, not to the lover, but to +love. And the boy was only one of many on whom the victory might have +fallen; but such a man becomes the only man when he takes what he finds +for himself--green bud, half blown, or open to its own deep fragrant +heart. To him that hath shall be given, and much forgiven. For it is the +law of the strong and the prophets: and a little should be left to that +Destiny which the devout revere under a gentler name. + + * * * * * + +The affair made a splash in the social puddle, and the commotion spread +outside of it. Inside the nine-and-seventy cackled; outside similar +gallinaceous sounds. Neergard pored all day over the blue-pencilled +column, and went home, stunned; the social sheet which is taken below +stairs and read above was full of it, as was the daily press and the +mouths of people interested, uninterested, and disinterested, +legitimately or otherwise, until people began to tire of telling each +other exactly how it happened that Gerald Erroll ran away with Gladys +Orchil. + +Sanxon Orchil was widely quoted as suavely and urbanely deploring the +premature consummation of an alliance long since decided upon by both +families involved; Mrs. Orchil snapped her electric-blue eyes and held +her peace--between her very white teeth; Austin Gerard, secretly +astounded with admiration for Gerald, received the reporters with a +countenance expressive of patient pain, but downtown he made public +pretence of busy indifference, as though not fully alive to the material +benefit connected with the unexpected alliance. Nina wept--happily at +moments--at moments she laughed--because she had heard all about the +famous British invasion planned by the Orchils and abetted by +Anglo-American aristocracy. She did not laugh too maliciously; she +simply couldn't help it. Her set was not the Orchils' set, their ways +were not her ways; their orbits merely intersected occasionally; and, +left to herself and the choice hers, she would not have troubled herself +to engineer any such alliance, even to stir up Mrs. Sanxon Orchil. +Besides, deep in her complacent little New York soul she had the +faintest germ of contempt for the Cordova ancestors of the house of +Orchil. + +But the young and silly pair had now relieved her as well as Mrs. Orchil +of any further trouble concerning themselves, the American duchess, the +campaign, and the Horse Guards: they had married each other rather +shamelessly one evening while supposed to be dancing at the Sandon +Craigs', and had departed expensively for Palm Beach, whither Austin, +grim, reticent, but inwardly immensely contented, despatched the +accumulated exclamatory letters of the family with an intimation of his +own that two weeks was long enough to cut business even with a honeymoon +as excuse. + +Meanwhile the disorganisation in the nursery was tremendous; the +children, vaguely aware of the household demoralisation and excitement, +took the opportunity to break loose on every occasion; and Kit-Ki, to +her infinite boredom and disgust, was hunted from garret to cellar; and +Drina, taking advantage, contrived to over-eat herself and sit up late, +and was put to bed sick; and Eileen, loyal, but sorrowfully amazed at +her brother's exclusion of her in such a crisis, became slowly +overwhelmed with the realisation of her loneliness, and took to the +seclusion of her own room, feeling tearful and abandoned, and very much +like a very little girl whose heart was becoming far too full of all +sorts of sorrows. + +Nina misunderstood her, finding her lying on her bed, her pale face +pillowed in her hair. + +"Only horridly ordinary people will believe that Gerald wanted her +money," said Nina; "as though an Erroll considered such matters at +all--or needed to. Clear, clean English you are, back to the cavaliers +whose flung purses were their thanks when the Cordovans held their +horses' heads. . . . What are you crying for?" + +"I don't know," said Eileen; "not for anything that you speak of. +Neither Gerald nor I ever wasted any emotion over money, or what others +think about it. . . . Is Drina ill?" + +"No; only sick. Calomel will fix her, but she believes she's close to +dissolution and she's sent for Boots to take leave of him--the little +monkey! I'm so indignant. She's taken advantage of the general +demoralisation to eat up everything in the house. . . . Billy fell +downstairs, fox-hunting, and his nose bled all over that pink Kirman +rug. . . . Boots _is_ a dear; do you know what he's done?" + +"What?" asked Eileen listlessly, raising the back of her slender hand +from her eyes to peer at Nina through the glimmer of tears. + +"Well, he and Phil have moved out of Boots's house, and Boots has wired +Gerald and Gladys that the house is ready for them until they can find a +place of their own. Of course they'll both come here--in fact, their +luggage is upstairs now--Boots takes the blue room and Phil his old +quarters, . . . But don't you think it is perfectly sweet of Boots? And +isn't it good to have Philip back again?" + +"Y-es," said Eileen faintly. Lying there, the deep azure of her eyes +starred with tears, a new tremor altered her mouth, and the tight-curled +upper lip quivered. Her heart, too, had begun its heavy, unsteady +response in recognition of her lover's name; she turned partly away from +Nina, burying her face in her brilliant hair; and beside her slim +length, straight and tense, her arms lay, the small hands contracting +till they had closed as tightly as her teeth. + +It was no child, now, who lay there, fighting down the welling +desolation; no visionary adolescent grieving over the colourless ashes +of her first romance; not even the woman, socially achieved, +intelligently and intellectually in love. It was a girl, old enough to +realise that the adoration she had given was not wholly spiritual, that +her delight in her lover and her response to him was not wholly of the +mind, not so purely of the intellect; that there was still more, +something sweeter, more painful, more bewildering that she could give +him, desired to give--nay, that she could not withhold even with sealed +eyes and arms outstretched in the darkness of wakeful hours, with her +young heart straining in her breast and her set lips crushing back the +unuttered cry. + +Love! So that was it!--the need, the pain, the bewilderment, the hot +sleeplessness, the mad audacity of a blessed dream, the flushed +awakening, stunned rapture--and then the gray truth, bleaching the rose +tints from the fading tapestries of slumberland, leaving her flung +across her pillows, staring at daybreak. + + * * * * * + +Nina had laid a cool smooth hand across her forehead, pushing back the +hair--a light caress, sensitive as an unasked question. + +But there was no response, and presently the elder woman rose and went +out along the landing, and Eileen heard her laughingly greeting Boots, +who had arrived post-haste on news of Drina's plight. + +"Don't be frightened; the little wretch carried tons of indigestible +stuff to her room and sat up half the night eating it. Where's Philip?" + +"I don't know. Here's a special delivery for him. I signed for it and +brought it from the house. He'll be here from the Hook directly, I +fancy. Where is Drina?" + +"In bed. I'll take you up. Mind you, there'll be a scene, so nerve +yourself." + +They went upstairs together. Nina knocked, peeped in, then summoned Mr. +Lansing. + +"Oh, Boots, Boots!" groaned Drina, lifting her arms and encircling his +neck, "I don't think I am ever going to get well--I don't believe it, no +matter what they say. I am glad you have come; I wanted you--and I'm +very, very sick. . . . Are you happy to be with me?" + +Boots sat on the bedside, the feverish little head in his arms, and Nina +was a trifle surprised to see how seriously he took it. + +"Boots," she said, "you look as though your last hour had come. Are you +letting that very bad child frighten you? Drina, dear, mother doesn't +mean to be horrid, but you're too old to whine. . . . It's time for the +medicine, too--" + +"Oh, mother! the nasty kind?" + +"Certainly. Boots, if you'll move aside--" + +"Let Boots give it to me!" exclaimed the child tragically. "It will do +no good; I'm not getting better; but if I must take it, let Boots hold +me--and the spoon!" + +She sat straight up in bed with a superb gesture which would have done +credit to that classical gentleman who heroically swallowed the hemlock +cocktail. Some of the dose bespattered Boots, and when the deed was done +the child fell back and buried her head on his breast, incidentally +leaving medicinal traces on his collar. + +Half an hour later she was asleep, holding fast to Boots's sleeve, and +that young gentleman sat in a chair beside her, discussing with her +pretty mother the plans made for Gladys and Gerald on their expected +arrival. + +Eileen, pale and heavy-lidded, looked in on her way to some afternoon +affair, nodding unsmiling at Boots. + +"Have you been rifling the pantry, too?" he whispered. "You lack your +usual chromatic symphony." + +"No, Boots; I'm just tired. If I wasn't physically afraid of Drina, I'd +get you to run off with me--anywhere. . . . What is that letter, Nina? +For me?" + +"It's for Phil. Boots brought it around. Leave it on the library table, +dear, when you go down." + +Eileen took the letter and turned away. A few moments later as she laid +it on the library table, her eyes involuntarily noted the superscription +written in the long, angular, fashionable writing of a woman. + +And slowly the inevitable question took shape within her. + +How long she stood there she did not know, but the points of her gloved +fingers were still resting on the table and her gaze was still +concentrated on the envelope when she felt Selwyn's presence in the +room, near, close; and looked up into his steady eyes. And knew he loved +her. + +And suddenly she broke down--for with his deep gaze in hers the +overwrought spectre had fled!--broke down, no longer doubting, bowing +her head in her slim gloved hands, thrilled to the soul with the +certitude of their unhappiness eternal, and the dreadful pleasure of her +share. + +"What is it?" he made out to say, managing also to keep his hands off +her where she sat, bowed and quivering by the table. + +"N-nothing. A--a little crisis--over now--nearly over. +It was that letter--other women writing you. . . . And +I--outlawed--tongue-tied. . . . Don't look at me, don't wait. +I--I am going out." + +He went to the window, stood a moment, came back to the table, took his +letter, and walked slowly again to the window. + +After a while he heard the rustle of her gown as she left the room, and +a little later he straightened up, passed his hand across his tired +eyes, and, looking down at the letter in his hand, broke the seal. + +It was from one of the nurses, Miss Casson, and shorter than usual: + +"Mrs. Ruthven is physically in perfect health, but yesterday we noted a +rather startling change in her mental condition. There were, during the +day, intervals that seemed perfectly lucid. Once she spoke of Miss Bond +as 'the other nurse,' as though she realised something of the conditions +surrounding her. Once, too, she seemed astonished when I brought her a +doll, and asked me:' Is there a child here? Or is it for a charity +bazaar?' + +"Later I found her writing a letter at my desk. She left it unfinished +when she went to drive--a mere scrap. I thought it best to enclose it, +which I do, herewith." + +The enclosure he opened: + +"Phil, dear, though I have been very ill I know you are my own husband. +All the rest was only a child's dream of terror--" + +And that was all--only this scrap, firmly written in the easy flowing +hand he knew so well. He studied it for a moment or two, then resumed +Miss Casson's letter: + +"A man stopped our sleigh yesterday, asking if he was not speaking to +Mrs. Ruthven. I was a trifle worried, and replied that any communication +for Mrs. Ruthven could be sent to me. + +"That evening two men--gentlemen apparently--came to the house and asked +for me. I went down to receive them. One was a Dr. Mallison, the other +said his name was Thomas B. Hallam, but gave no business address. + +"When I found that they had come without your knowledge and authority, I +refused to discuss Mrs. Ruthven's condition, and the one who said his +name was Hallam spoke rather peremptorily and in a way that made me +think he might be a lawyer. + +"They got nothing out of me, and they left when I made it plain that I +had nothing to tell them. + +"I thought it best to let you know about this, though I, personally, +cannot guess what it might mean." + +Selwyn turned the page: + +"One other matter worries Miss Bond and myself. The revolver you sent us +at my request has disappeared. We are nearly sure Mrs. Ruthven has +it--you know she once dressed it as a doll--calling it her army +doll!--but now we can't find it. She has hidden it somewhere, out of +doors in the shrubbery, we think, and Miss Bond and I expect to secure +it the next time she takes a fancy to have all her dolls out for a +'lawn-party.' + +"Dr. Wesson says there is no danger of her doing any harm with it, but +wants us to secure it at the first opportunity--" + +He turned the last page; on the other side was merely the formula of +leave-taking and Miss Casson's signature. + +For a while he stood in the centre of the room, head bent, narrowing +eyes fixed; then he folded the letter, pocketed it, and walked to the +table where a directory lay. + +He found the name, Hallam, very easily--Thomas B. Hallam, lawyer, junior +in the firm of Spencer, Boyd & Hallam. They were attorneys for Jack +Ruthven; he knew that. + +Mallison he also found--Dr. James Mallison, who, it appeared, conducted +some sort of private asylum on Long Island. + +And when he had found what he wanted, he went to the telephone and rang +up Mr. Ruthven, but the servant who answered the telephone informed him +that Mr. Ruthven was not in town. + +So Selwyn hung up the receiver and sat down, thoughtful, grim, the trace +of a scowl creeping across his narrowing gray eyes. + +Of the abject cowardice of Ruthven he had been so certain that he had +hitherto discounted any interference from him. Yet, now, the man was +apparently preparing for some sort of interference. What did he want? +Selwyn had contemptuously refused to permit him to seek a divorce on the +ground of his wife's infirmity. What was the man after? + + * * * * * + +The man was after his divorce, that was what it all meant. His first +check on the long trail came with the stupefying news of Gerald's +runaway marriage to the young girl he was laying his own plans to marry +some day in the future, and at first the news staggered him, leaving him +apparently no immediate incentive for securing his freedom. + +But Ruthven instantly began to realise that what he had lost he might +not have lost had he been free to shoulder aside the young fellow who +had forestalled him. The chance had passed--that particular chance. But +he'd never again allow himself to be caught in a position where such a +chance could pass him by because he was not legally free to at least +make the effort to seize it. + +Fear in his soul had kept him from blazoning his wife's infirmity to the +world as cause for an action against her; but he remembered Neergard's +impudent cruise with her on the _Niobrara_, and he had temporarily +settled on that as a means to extort revenue, not intending such an +action should ever come to trial. And then he learned that Neergard had +gone to pieces. That was the second check. + +Ruthven needed money. He needed it because he meant to put the ocean +between himself and Selwyn before commencing any suit--whatever ground +he might choose for entering such a suit. He required capital on which +to live abroad during the proceedings, if that could be legally +arranged. And meanwhile, preliminary to any plan of campaign, he desired +to know where his wife was and what might he her actual physical and +mental condition. + +He had supposed her to be, or to have been, ill--at least erratic and +not to be trusted with her own freedom; therefore he had been quite +prepared to hear from those whom he employed to trace and find her that +she was housed in some institution devoted to the incarceration of such +unfortunates. + +But Ruthven was totally unprepared for the report brought him by a +private agency to the effect that Mrs. Ruthven was apparently in perfect +health, living in the country, maintaining a villa and staff of +servants; that she might be seen driving a perfectly appointed Cossack +sleigh any day with a groom on the rumble and a companion beside her; +that she seemed to be perfectly sane, healthy in body and mind, +comfortable, happy, and enjoying life under the protection of a certain +Captain Selwyn, who paid all her bills and, at certain times, was seen +entering or leaving her house at Edgewater. + +Excited, incredulous, but hoping for the worst, Ruthven had posted off +to his attorneys. To them he naiively confessed his desire to be rid of +Alixe; he reported her misconduct with Neergard--which he knew was a +lie--her pretence of mental prostration, her disappearance, and his +last interview with Selwyn in the card-room. He also gave a vivid +description of that gentleman's disgusting behaviour, and his threats of +violence during that interview. + +To all of which his attorneys listened very attentively, bade him have +no fear of his life, requested him to make several affidavits, and leave +the rest to them for the present. + +Which he did, without hearing from them until Mr. Hallam telegraphed him +to come to Edgewater if he had nothing better to do. + +And Ruthven had just arrived at that inconspicuous Long Island village +when his servant, at the telephone, replied to Selwyn's inquiry that his +master was out of town. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Hallam was a very busy, very sanguine, very impetuous young man; and +when he met Ruthven at the Edgewater station he told him promptly that +he had the best case on earth; that he, Hallam, was going to New York on +the next train, now almost due, and that Ruthven had better drive over +and see for himself how gaily his wife maintained her household; for the +Cossack sleigh, with its gay crimson tchug, had but just returned from +the usual afternoon spin, and the young chatelaine of Willow Villa was +now on the snow-covered lawn, romping with the coachman's huge white +wolf-hound. . . . It might he just as well for Ruthven to stroll up that +way and see for himself. The house was known as the Willow Villa. Any +hackman could drive him past it. + +As Hallam was speaking the New York train came thundering in, and the +young lawyer, facing the snowy clouds of steam, swung his suit-case and +himself aboard. On the Pullman platform he paused and looked around and +down at Ruthven. + +"It's just as you like," he said. "If you'd rather come back with me on +this train, come ahead! It isn't absolutely necessary that you make a +personal inspection now; only that fellow Selwyn is not here to-day, and +I thought if you wanted to look about a bit you could do it this +afternoon without chance of running into him and startling the whole +mess boiling." + +"Is Captain Selwyn in town?" asked Ruthven, reddening. + +"Yes; an agency man telephoned me that he's just back from Sandy Hook--" + +The train began to move out of the station. Ruthven hesitated, then +stepped away from the passing car with a significant parting nod to +Hallam. + +As the train, gathering momentum, swept past him, he stared about at the +snow-covered station, the guard, the few people congregated there. + +"There's another train at four, isn't there?" he asked an official. + +"Four-thirty, express. Yes, sir." + +A hackman came up soliciting patronage. Ruthven motioned him to follow, +leading the way to the edge of the platform. + +"I don't want to drive to the village. What have you got there, a +sleigh?" + +It was the usual Long Island depot-wagon, on runners instead of wheels. + +"Do you know the Willow Villa?" demanded Ruthven. + +"Wilier Viller, sir? Yes, sir. Step right this way--" + +"Wait!" snapped Ruthven. "I asked you if you knew it; I didn't say I +wanted to go there." + +The hackman in his woolly greatcoat stared at the little dapper, +smooth-shaven man, who eyed him in return, coolly insolent, lighting a +cigar. + +"I don't want to go to the Willow Villa," said Ruthven; "I want you to +drive me past it." + +"Sir?" + +"_Past_ it. And then turn around and drive back here. Is that plain?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Ruthven got into the closed body of the vehicle, rubbed the frost from +the window, and peeked out. The hackman, unhitching his lank horse, +climbed to the seat, gathered the reins, and the vehicle started to the +jangling accompaniment of a single battered cow-bell. + +The melancholy clamour of the bell annoyed little Mr. Ruthven; he was +horribly cold, too, even in his fur coat. Also the musty smell of the +ancient vehicle annoyed him as he sat, half turned around, peeping out +of the rear window into the white tree-lined road. + +There was nothing to see but the snowy road flanked by trees and stark +hedges; nothing but the flat expanse of white on either side, broken +here and there by patches of thin woodlands or by some old-time +farmhouse with its slab shingles painted white and its green shutters +and squat roof. + +"What a God-forsaken place," muttered little Mr. Ruthven with a hard +grimace. "If she's happy in this sort of a hole there's no doubt she's +some sort of a lunatic." + +He looked out again furtively, thinking of what the agency had reported +to him. How was it possible for any human creature to live in such a +waste and be happy and healthy and gay, as they told him his wife was. +What could a human being do to kill the horror of such silent, deathly +white isolation? Drive about in it in a Cossack sleigh, as they said she +did? Horror! + +The driver pulled up short, then began to turn his horse. Ruthven +squinted out of the window, but saw no sign of a villa. Then he rapped +sharply on the forward window, motioning the driver to descend, come +around, and open the door. + +When the man appeared Ruthven demanded why he had turned his horse, and +the hackman, pointing to a wooded hill to the west, explained that the +Willow Villa stood there. + +Ruthven had supposed that the main road passed the house; he got out of +the covered wagon, looked across at the low hill, and dug his gloved +hands deeper into his fur-lined pockets. + +For a while he stood in the snow, stolid, thoughtful, puffing his cigar. +A half-contemptuous curiosity possessed him to see his wife once more +before he discarded her; see what she looked like, whether she appeared +normal and in possession of the small amount of sense he had +condescended to credit her with. + +Besides, here was a safe chance to see her. Selwyn was in New York, and +the absolute certainty of his personal safety attracted him strongly, +rousing all the latent tyranny in his meagre soul. + +Probably--but he didn't understand the legal requirements of the matter, +and whether or not it was necessary for him personally to see this place +where Selwyn maintained her, and see her in it--probably he would be +obliged to come here again with far less certainty of personal security +from Selwyn. Perhaps that future visit might even be avoided if he took +this opportunity to investigate. Whether it was the half-sneering +curiosity to see his wife, or the hope of doing a thing now which, by +the doing, he need not do later--whether it was either of these that +moved him to the impulse, is not quite clear. + +He said to the hackman: "You wait here. I'm going over to the Willow +Villa for a few moments, and then I'll want you to drive me back to the +station in time for that four-thirty. Do you understand?" + +The man said he understood, and Ruthven, bundled in his fur coat, picked +his way across the crust, through a gateway, and up what appeared to be +a hedged lane. + +The lane presently disclosed itself as an avenue, now doubly lined with +tall trees; this avenue he continued to follow, passing through a grove +of locusts, and came out before a house on the low crest of a hill. + +There were clumps of evergreens about, tall cedars, a bit of bushy +foreland, and a stretch of snow. And across this open space of snow a +young girl was moving, followed by a white wolf-hound. Once she paused, +hesitated, looked cautiously around her. Ruthven, hiding behind a bush, +saw her thrust her arm into a low evergreen shrub and draw out a shining +object that glittered like glass. Then she started toward the house +again. + +At first Ruthven thought she was his wife, then he was not sure, and he +cast his cigar away and followed, slinking forward among the evergreens. +But the youthful fur-clad figure kept straight on to the veranda of the +house, and Ruthven, curious and determined to find out whether it was +Alixe or not, left the semi-shelter of the evergreens and crossed the +open space just as the woman's figure disappeared around an angle of the +veranda. + +Vexed, determined not to return without some definite discovery, Ruthven +stepped upon the veranda. Just around the angle of the porch he heard a +door opening, and he hurried forward impatient and absolutely unafraid, +anxious to get one good look at his wife and be off. + +But when he turned the angle of the porch there was no one there; only +an open door confronted him, with a big, mild-eyed wolf-hound standing +in the doorway, looking steadily up at him. + +Ruthven glanced somewhat dubiously at the dog, then, as the animal made +no offensive movement, he craned his fleshy neck, striving to see inside +the house. + +He did see--nothing very much--only the same young girl, still in her +furs, emerging from an inner room, her arms full of dolls. + +In his eagerness to see more, Ruthven pushed past the great white dog, +who withdrew his head disdainfully from the unceremonious contact, but +quietly followed Ruthven into the house, standing beside him, watching +him out of great limpid, deerlike eyes. + +But Ruthven no longer heeded the dog. His amused and slightly sneering +gaze was fastened on the girl in furs who had entered what appeared to +be a living room to the right, and now, down on her knees beside a +couch, smiling and talking confidentially and quite happily to herself, +was placing her dolls in a row against the wall. + +The dolls were of various sorts, some plainly enough home-made, some +very waxy and gay in sash and lace, some with polished smiling features +of porcelain. One doll, however, was different--a bit of ragged red +flannel and something protruding to represent the head, something that +glittered. And the girl in the fur jacket had this curious doll in +her hands when Ruthven, to make sure of her identity, took a quick +impulsive step forward. + +[Illustration: "With the acrid smell of smoke choking her."] + +Then the great white dog growled, very low, and the girl in the fur +jacket looked around and up quickly. + +Alixe! He realised it as she caught his pale eyes fixed on her; and she +stared, sprang to her feet still staring. Then into her eyes leaped +terror, the living horror of recognition distorting her face. And, as +she saw he meant to speak she recoiled, shrinking away, turning in her +fright like a hunted thing. The strange doll in her hand glittered; it +was a revolver wrapped in a red rag. + +"W-what's the matter?" he stammered, stepping forward, fearful of the +weapon she clutched. + +But at the sound of his voice she screamed, crept back closer against +the wall, screamed again, pushing the shining muzzle of the weapon deep +into her fur jacket above her breast. + +"F-for God's sake!" he gasped, "don't fire!--don't--" + +She closed both eyes and pulled the trigger; something knocked her flat +against the wall, but she heard no sound of a report, and she pulled the +trigger again and felt another blow. + +The second blow must have knocked her down, for she found herself rising +to her knees, reaching for the table to aid her. But her hand was all +red and slippery; she looked at it stupidly, fell forward, rose again, +with the acrid smell of smoke choking her, and her pretty fur jacket all +soaked with the warm wet stuff which now stained both hands. + +Then she got to her knees once more, groped in the rushing darkness, +and swayed forward, falling loosely and flat. And this time she did not +try to rise. + + * * * * * + +It was her way; it had always been her way out of trouble; the quickest, +easiest escape from what she did not choose to endure. And even when in +her mind the light of reason had gone out for ever, she had not lost +that instinct for escape; and, wittingly or not, she had taken the old +way out of trouble--the shortest, quickest way. And where it leads--she +knew at last, lying there on her face, her fur jacket and her little +hands so soiled and red. + +As for the man, they finally contrived to drag the dog from him, and +lift him to the couch, where he lay twitching among the dolls for a +while; then stopped twitching. + +Later in the night men came with lanterns who carried him away. A doctor +said that there was the usual chance for partial recovery. But it was +the last excitement he could ever venture to indulge in. His own doctors +had warned him often enough. Now he had learned something, but not as +much as Alixe had already learned. And perhaps he never would; but no +man knows such things with the authority to speak of them. + + + + +ARS AMORIS + + +Nine days is the period of time allotted the human mind in which to +wonder at anything. In New York the limit is much less; no tragedy can +hold the boards as long as that where the bill must be renewed three +times u day to hold even the passing attention of those who themselves +are eternal understudies in the continuous metropolitan performance. It +is very expensive for the newspapers, but fortunately for them there is +always plenty of trouble in the five boroughs, and an occasional +catastrophe elsewhere to help out. + +So they were grateful enough that the Edgewater tragedy lasted them +forty-eight hours, and on the forty-ninth they forgot it. + +In society it was about the same. Ruthven was evidently done for; that +the spark of mere vitality might linger for years in the exterior shell +of him familiar to his world, concerned that world no more. Interest in +him was laid aside with the perfunctory finality with which the memory +of Alixe was laid away. + +As for Selwyn, a few people noticed his presence at the services; but +even that episode was forgotten before he left the city, six hours +later, under an invitation from Washington which admitted of no delay on +the score of private business or of personal perplexity. For the summons +was peremptory, and his obedience so immediate that a telegram to Austin +comprised and concluded the entire ceremony of his leave-taking. + +Later he wrote a great many letters to Eileen Erroll--not one of which +he ever sent. But the formality of his silence was no mystery to her; +and her response was silence as profound as the stillness in her soul. +But deep into her young heart something new had been born, faint fire, +latent, unstirred; and her delicate lips rested one on the other in the +sensitive curve of suspense; and her white fingers, often now +interlinked, seemed tremulously instinct with the exquisite tension +hushing body and soul in breathless accord as they waited in unison. + + * * * * * + +Toward the end of March the special service battleship squadron of the +North Atlantic fleet commenced testing Chaosite in the vicinity of the +Southern rendezvous. Both main and secondary batteries were employed. +Selwyn had been aboard the flag-ship for nearly a month. + +In April the armoured ships left the Southern drill ground and began to +move northward. A destroyer took Selwyn across to the great fortress +inside the Virginia Capes and left him there. During his stay there was +almost constant firing; later he continued northward as far as +Washington; but it was not until June that he telegraphed Austin: + + "Government satisfied. Appropriation certain next session. Am on my + way to New York." + +Austin, in his house, which was now dismantled for the summer, +telephoned Nina at Silverside that he had been detained and might not be +able to grace the festivities which were to consist of a neighbourhood +dinner to the younger set in honour of Mrs. Gerald. But he said nothing +about Selwyn, and Nina did not suspect that her brother's arrival in +New York had anything to do with Austin's detention. + +There was in Austin a curious substreak of sentiment which seldom came +to the surface except where his immediate family was involved. In his +dealings with others he avoided it; even with Gerald and Eileen there +had been little of this sentiment apparent. But where Selwyn was +concerned, from the very first days of their friendship, he had always +felt in his heart very close to the man whose sister he had married, and +was always almost automatically on his guard to avoid any expression of +that affection. Once he had done so, or attempted to, when Selwyn first +arrived from the Philippines, and it made them both uncomfortable to the +verge of profanity, but remained as a shy source of solace to them both. + +And now as Selwyn came leisurely up the front steps, Austin, awaiting +him feverishly, hastened to smooth the florid jocose mask over his +features, and walked into the room, big hand extended, large bantering +voice undisturbed by the tremor of a welcome which filled his heart and +came near filling his eyes: + +"So you've stuck the poor old Government at last, have you? Took 'em all +in--forts, fleet, and the marine cavalry?" + +"Sure thing," said Selwyn, laughing in the crushing grasp of the big +fist. "How are you, Austin? Everybody's in the country, I suppose," +glancing around at the linen-shrouded furniture. "How is Nina? And the +kids? . . . Good business! . . . And Eileen?" + +"She's all right," said Austin; "gad! she's really a superb specimen +this summer. . . . You know she rather eased off last winter--got white +around the gills and blue under the eyes. . . . Some heart trouble--we +all thought it was you. Young girls have such notions sometimes, and I +told Nina, but she sat on me. . . . Where's your luggage? Oh, is it all +here?--enough, I mean, for us to catch a train for Silverside this +afternoon." + +"Has Nina any room for me?" asked Selwyn. + +"Room! Certainly. I didn't tell her you were coming, because if you +hadn't, the kids would have been horribly disappointed. She and Eileen +are giving a shindy for Gladys--that's Gerald's new acquisition, you +know. So if you don't mind butting into a baby-show we'll run down. It's +only the younger bunch from Hitherwood House and Brookminster. What do +you say, Phil?" + +Selwyn said that he would go--hesitating before consenting. A curious +feeling of age and grayness had suddenly come over him--a hint of +fatigue, of consciousness that much of life lay behind him. + +Yet in his face and in his bearing he could not have shown much of it, +though at his deeply sun-burned temples the thick, close-cut hair was +silvery; for Austin said with amused and at the same time fretful +emphasis: "How the devil you keep the youth" in your face and figure I +don't understand! I'm only forty-five--that's scarcely eight years older +than you are! And look at my waistcoat! And look at my hair--I mean +where the confounded ebb has left the tide-mark! Gad, I'd scarcely blame +Eileen for thinking you qualified for a cradle-snatcher. . . . And, by +the way, that Gladys girl is more of a woman than you'd believe. I +observe that Gerald wears that peculiarly speak-easy-please expression +which is a healthy sign that he's being managed right from the +beginning." + +"I had an idea she was all right," said Selwyn, smiling. + +"Well, she is. People will probably say that she 'made' Gerald. +However," added Austin modestly, "I shall never deny it--though you know +what part I've had in the making and breaking of him, don't you?" + +"Yes," replied Selwyn, without a smile. + +Austin went to the telephone and called up his house at Silverside, +saying that he'd be down that evening with a guest. + +Nina got the message just as she had arranged her tables; but woman is +born to sorrow and heiress to all the unlooked-for idiocies of man. + +"Dear," she said to Eileen, the tears of uxorial vexation drying unshed +in her pretty eyes, "Austin has thought fit to seize upon this moment to +bring a man down to dinner. So if you are dressed would you kindly see +that the tables are rearranged, and then telephone somebody to fill +in--two girls, you know. The oldest Craig girl might do for one. Beg her +mother to let her come." + +Eileen was being laced, but she walked to the door of Nina's room, +followed by her little Alsatian maid, who deftly continued her offices +_en route_. + +"Whom is Austin bringing?" she asked. + +"He didn't say. Can't you think of a second girl to get? Isn't it +vexing! Of course there's nobody left--nobody ever fills in in the +country. . . . Do you know, I'll be driven into letting Drina sit up +with us!--for sheer lack of material. I suppose the little imp will have +a fit if I suggest it, and probably perish of indigestion to-morrow." + +Eileen laughed. "Oh, Nina, _do_ let Drina come this once! It can't hurt +her--she'll look so quaint. The child's nearly fifteen, you know; do let +me put up her hair. Boots will take her in." + +"Well, you and Austin can administer the calomel to-morrow, then. . . . +And do ring up Daisy Craig; tell her mother I'm desperate, and that she +and Drina can occupy the same hospital to-morrow." + +And so it happened that among the jolly youthful throng which clustered +around the little candle-lighted tables in the dining-room at +Silverside, Drina, in ecstasy, curly hair just above the nape of her +slim white neck, and cheeks like pink fire, sat between Boots and a +vacant chair reserved for her tardy father. + +For Nina had waited as long as she dared; then Boots had been summoned +to take in Drina and the youthful Craig girl; and, as there were to have +been six at a table, at that particular table sat Boots decorously +facing Eileen, with the two children on either hand and two empty chairs +flanking Eileen. + +A jolly informality made up for Austin's shortcoming; Gerald and his +pretty bride were the centres of delighted curiosity from the Minster +twins and the Innis girls and Evelyn Cardwell--all her intimates. And +the younger Draymores, the Grays, Lawns, and Craigs were there in +force--gay, noisy, unembarrassed young people who seemed scarcely +younger or gayer than the young matron, their hostess. + +As for Gladys, it was difficult to think of her as married; and to Boots +Drina whispered blissfully: "I look almost as old; I know I do. After +this I shall certainly make no end of a fuss if they don't let me dine +with them. Besides, you want me to, don't you, Boots?" + +"Of course I do." + +"And--am I quite as entertaining to you as older girls, Boots, dear?" + +"Far more entertaining," said that young man promptly. "In fact, I've +about decided to cut out all the dinners where you're not invited. It's +only three more years, anyway, before you're asked about, and if I omit +three years of indigestible dinners I'll be in better shape to endure +the deluge after you appear and make your bow." + +"When I make my bow," murmured the child; "oh, Boots, I am in such a +hurry to make it! It doesn't seem as if I _could_ wait three more long, +awful, disgusting years! . . . How does my hair look?" + +"Adorable," he said, smiling across at Eileen, who had heard the +question. + +"Do you think my arms are very thin? Do you?" insisted Drina. + +"Dreams of Grecian perfection," explained Boots. And, lowering his +voice, "You ought not to eat _everything_ they bring you; there'll be +doings to-morrow if you do. Eileen is shaking her head." + +"I don't care; people don't die of overeating. And I'll take their nasty +old medicine--truly I will, Boots, if you'll come and give it to me." + +The younger Craig maiden also appeared to be bent upon self-destruction; +and Boots's eyes opened wider and wider in sheer amazement at the +capacity of woman in embryo for rations sufficient to maintain a small +garrison. + +"There'll be a couple of reports," he said to himself with a shudder, +"like Selwyn's Chaosite. And then there'll be no more Drina and +Daisy--Hello!"--he broke off, astonished--"Well, upon my word of words! +Phil Selwyn!--or I'm a broker!" + +"Phil!" exclaimed Nina.. "Oh, Austin!--and you never told us--" + +Austin, ruddy and bland, came up to make his excuses; a little whirlwind +of excitement passed like a brisk breeze over the clustered tables as +Selwyn followed; and a dozen impulsive bare arms were outstretched to +greet him as he passed, returning the bright, eager salutations on every +hand. + +"Train was late as usual," observed Austin. "Philip and I don't mean to +butt into this very grand function--Hello, Gerald! Hello, Gladys! . . . +Where's our obscure corner below the salt, Nina? . . . Oh, over there--" + +Selwyn had already caught sight of the table destined for him. A deeper +colour crept across his bronzed face as he stepped forward, and his firm +hand closed over the slim hand offered. + +For a moment neither spoke; she could not; he dared not. + +Then Drina caught his hands, and Eileen's loosened in his clasp and fell +away as the child said distinctly, "I'll kiss you after dinner; it can't +be done here, can it, Eileen?" + +"You little monkey!" exclaimed her father, astonished; "what in the name +of cruelty to kids are _you_ doing here?" + +"Mother let me," observed the child, reaching for a bonbon. "Daisy is +here; you didn't speak to her." + +"I'm past conversation," said Austin grimly, "and Daisy appears to be +also. Are they to send an ambulance for you, Miss Craig?--or will you +occupy the emergency ward upstairs?" + +"Upstairs," said Miss Craig briefly. It was all she could utter. +Besides, she was occupied with a pink cream-puff. Austin and Boots +watched her with a dreadful fascination; but she seemed competent to +manage it. + +Selwyn, beside Eileen, had ventured on the formalities--his voice +unsteady and not yet his own. + +Her loveliness had been a memory; he had supposed he realised it to +himself; but the superb, fresh beauty of the girl dazed him. There was a +strange new radiancy, a living brightness to her that seemed almost +unreal. Exquisitely unreal her voice, too, and the slightly bent head, +crowned with the splendour of her hair; and the slowly raised eyes, two +deep blue miracles tinged with the hues of paradise. + +"There's no use," sighed Drina, "I shall not be able to dance. Boots, +there's to be a dance, you know; so I'll sit on the stairs with Daisy +Craig; and you'll come to me occasionally, won't you?" + +Miss Craig yawned frightfully and made a purely mechanical move toward +an iced strawberry. Before she got it Nina gave the rising signal. + +"Are you remaining to smoke?" asked Eileen as Selwyn took her to the +doorway. "Because, if you are not--I'll wait for you." + +"Where?" he asked. + +"Anywhere. . . . Where shall I?" + +Again the twin blue miracles were lifted to his; and deep in them he saw +her young soul, waiting. + +Around them was the gay confusion, adieux, and laughter of partners +parted for the moment; Nina passed them with a smiling nod; Boots +conducted Drina to a resting-place on the stairs; outside, the hall was +thronged with the younger set, and already their partners were returning +to the tables. + +"Find me when you can get away," said Eileen, looking once more at +Selwyn; "Nina is signalling me now." + +Again, as of old, her outstretched hand--the little formality +symbolising to him the importance of all that concerned them. He touched +it. + +"_A bientot_," she said. + +"On the lawn out there--farther out, in the starlight," he +whispered--his voice broke--"my darling--" + +She bent her head, passing slowly before him, turned, looked back, her +answer in her eyes, her lips, in every limb, every line and contour of +her, as she stood a moment, looking back. + +Austin and Boots were talking volubly when he returned to the tables now +veiled in a fine haze of aromatic smoke. Gerald stuck close to him, +happy, excited, shy by turns. Others came up on every side--young, +frank, confident fellows, nice in bearing, of good speech and manner. + +And outside waited their pretty partners of the younger set, gossiping +in hall, on stairs and veranda in garrulous bevies, all filmy silks and +laces and bright-eyed expectancy. + +The long windows were open to the veranda; Selwyn, with his arm through +Gerald's, walked to the railing and looked out across the fragrant +starlit waste. And very far away they heard the sea intoning the hymn of +the four winds. + +Then the elder man withdrew his arm and stood apart for a while. A +little later he descended to the lawn, crossed it, and walked straight +out into the waste. + +The song of the sea was rising now. In the strange little forest below, +deep among the trees, elfin lights broke out across the unseen Brier +water, then vanished. + +He halted to listen; he looked long and steadily into the darkness +around him. Suddenly he saw her--a pale blur in the dusk. + +"Eileen?" + +"Is it you, Philip?" + +She stood waiting as he came up through the purple gloom of the +moorland, the stars' brilliancy silvering her--waiting--yielding in +pallid silence to his arms, crushed in them, looking into his eyes, +dumb, wordless. + +Then slowly the pale sacrament changed as the wild-rose tint crept into +her face; her arms clung to his shoulders, higher, tightened around his +neck. And from her lips she gave into his keeping soul and body, +guiltless as God gave it, to have and to hold beyond such incidents as +death and the eternity that no man clings to save in the arms of such as +she. + + +THE END + + + + +THE LEADING NOVEL OF TODAY. + + * * * * * + +The Fighting Chance. + +By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. Illustrated by A.B. Wenzell. 12mo. Ornamental +Cloth, $1.50. + +In "The Fighting Chance" Mr. Chambers has taken for his hero, a young +fellow who has inherited with his wealth a craving for liquor. The +heroine has inherited a certain rebelliousness and dangerous caprice. +The two, meeting on the brink of ruin, fight out their battles, two +weaknesses joined with love to make a strength. It is refreshing to find +a story about the rich in which all the women are not sawdust at heart, +nor all the men satyrs. The rich have their longings, their ideals, +their regrets, as well as the poor; they have their struggles and +inherited evils to combat. It is a big subject, painted with a big brush +and a big heart. + +"After 'The House of Mirth' a New York society novel has to be very good +not to suffer fearfully by comparison. 'The Fighting Chance' is very +good and it does not suffer."--_Cleveland Plain Dealer_. + +"There is no more adorable person in recent fiction than Sylvia +Landis."--_New York Evening Sun_. + +"Drawn with a master hand."--_Toledo Blade_. + +"An absorbing tale which claims the reader's interest to the +end."--_Detroit Free Press_. + +"Mr. Chambers has written many brilliant stories, but this is his +masterpiece."--_Pittsburg Chronicle Telegraph_. + + * * * * * + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +A GREAT ROMANTIC NOVEL. + +The Reckoning. + +By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. Illustrated by Henry Hutt. $1.50. + +"A thrilling and engrossing tale."--_New York Sun_. + +"When we say that the new work is as good as 'Cardigan' it is hardly +necessary to say more."--_The Dial_. + +"Robert Chambers' books recommend themselves. 'The Reckoning' is one of +his best and will delight lovers of good novels."--_Boston Herald_. + +"It is an exceedingly fine specimen of its class, worthy of its +predecessors and a joy to all who like plenty of swing and +spirit."--_London Bookman_. + +"Robert W. Chambers' stories of the revolutionary period in particular +show a care in historic detail that put them in a different class from +the rank and file of colonial novels."--_Book News_. + +"A stirring tale well told and absorbing. It is not a book to forget +easily and it will for many throw new light on a phase of revolutionary +history replete with interest and appeal."--_Chicago Record-Herald_. + +"Chambers' bullets whistle almost audibly in the pages; when a twig +snaps, as twigs do perforce in these chronicles, you can almost feel the +presence of the savage buck who snaps it. Then there are situations of +force and effect everywhere through the pages, an intensity of action, a +certain naturalness of dialogue and 'human nature' in the incidents. But +over all is the glamor of the Chambers fancy, the gauzy woof of an +artist's imagination which glories in tints, in poesies, in the little +whims of the brush and pencil, so that you have just a pleasant reminder +of unreality and a glimpse of the author himself here and there to vary +the interest."--_St. Louis Republic_. + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + + + + +WORKS OF ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. + + * * * * * + +IOLE. + +Color inlay on the cover and many full-page illustrations, borders, +thumbnail sketches, etc., by J.C. Leyendecker, Arthur Becher, and Karl +Anderson. $1.25. + +The story of eight pretty girls and their fat poetical father, an +apostle of art "dead stuck on Nature and simplicity." + +"'Iole' is unquestionably a classic."--_San Francisco Bulletin_. + +"Mr. Chambers is a benefactor to the human race."--_Seattle +Post-Intelligencer_. + +"Quite the most amusing and delectable bit of nonsense that has come to +light for a long time."--_Life_. + +"One of the most alluring books of the season."--_Louisville +Courier-Journal_. + +"The joyous abounding charm of 'Iole' is indescribable. It is for you to +read. 'Iole' is guaranteed to drive away the blues."--_New York Press_. + +"Mr. Chambers has never shown himself more brilliant and more +imaginative than in this little satirical idyllic comedy."--_Kansas City +Star_. + +"A fresh proof of Mr. Chambers' amazing versatility."--_Everybody's +Magazine_. + +"As delicious a satire as one could want to read."--_Pittsburg +Chronicle_. + +"It is an achievement to write a genuinely funny book and another to +write a truly instructive book; but it is the greatest of achievements +to write a book that is both. This Mr. Chambers has done in +'Iole.'"--_Washington Star_. + +"Amid the outpour of the insipid 'Iole' comes as June sunshine. The +author of 'Cardigan' shows a fine touch and rarer pigments as the number +of his canvases grows. 'Iole' is a literary achievement which must +always stand in the foremost of its class."--_Chicago Evening Post_. + + * * * * * + +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + +By DAVID GRAHAM PHILLIPS. + + * * * * * + +The Second Generation. + +Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50. + +"The Second Generation" is a double-decked romance in one volume, +telling the two love-stories of a young American and his sister, reared +in luxury and suddenly left without means by their father, who felt that +money was proving their ruination and disinherited them for their own +sakes. Their struggle for life, love and happiness makes a powerful +love-story of the middle West. + +"The book equals the best of the great story tellers of all +time."--_Cleveland Plain Dealer_. + +"'The Second Generation,' by David Graham Phillips, is not only the most +important novel of the new year, but it is one of the most important +ones of a number of years past."--_Philadelphia Inquirer_. + +"_A_ thoroughly American book is 'The Second Generation.'. . . The +characters are drawn with force and discrimination."--_St. Louis Globe +Democrat_. + +"Mr. Phillips' book is thoughtful, well conceived, admirably written and +intensely interesting. The story 'works out' well, and though it is made +to sustain the theory of the writer it does so in a very natural and +stimulating manner. In the writing of the 'problem novel' Mr. Phillips +has won a foremost place among our younger American authors."--_Boston +Herald_. + +"'The Second Generation' promises to become one of the notable novels of +the year. It will be read and discussed while a less vigorous novel will +be forgotten within a week."--_Springfield Union_. + +"David Graham Phillips has a way, a most clever and convincing way, of +cutting through the veneer of snobbishness and bringing real men and +women to the surface. He strikes at shams, yet has a wholesome belief in +the people behind them, and he forces them to justify his good +opinions."--_Kansas City Times_. + + * * * * * + +D. 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