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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16719-8.txt b/16719-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..30ba5da --- /dev/null +++ b/16719-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4445 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Husbands of Edith, by George Barr +McCutcheon, Illustrated by Harrison Fisher + + +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 Husbands of Edith + + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + + + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH*** + + +E-text prepared by Louise Pryor, Janet Blenkinship, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 16719-h.htm or 16719-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719/16719-h/16719-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719/16719-h.zip) + + + + + +THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH + +by + +GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON + +With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher +and Decorations by Theodore B. Hapgood + +New York +Dodd, Mead & Company +The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A. + +1908 + + + + + + + * * * * * * * + + + OTHER BOOKS BY MR. McCUTCHEON + + NEDRA + BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK + THE DAY OF THE DOG + THE PURPLE PARASOL + THE SHERRODS + GRAUSTARK + CASTLE CRANEYCROW + BREWSTER'S MILLIONS + JANE CABLE + COWARDICE COURT + THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW + THE FLYERS + + + * * * * * * * + + + + [Illustration: Motif] + + + [Illustration: "'Don't you think Connie is a perfect + dear?'" (page 54)] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER Page + + I HUSBANDS AND WIFE 1 + + II THE SISTER-IN-LAW 17 + + III THE DISTANT COUSINS 37 + + IV THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW 51 + + V THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY 70 + + VI OTHER RELATIONS 87 + + VII THE THREE GUARDIANS 102 + + VIII THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND 116 + + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "'Don't you think Connie is a perfect + dear?'" (page 54) Frontispiece + + Brock 24 + + Katherine 44 + + "She began to detect a decided + falling off in his ardour" 74 + + "'I _do_ love you,' she said simply" 98 + + + + + +THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HUSBANDS AND WIFE + + +Brock was breakfasting out-of-doors in the cheerful little garden of the +Hôtel Chatham. The sun streamed warmly upon the concrete floor of the +court just beyond the row of palms and oleanders that fringed the rail +against which his _Herald_ rested, that he might read as he ran, so to +speak. He was the only person having _déjeuner_ on the "terrace," as he +named it to the obsequious waiter who always attended him. Charles was +the magnet that drew Brock to the Chatham (that excellent French hotel +with the excellent English name). It is beside the question to remark +that one is obliged to reverse the English when directing a _cocher_ to +the Chatham. The Paris cabman looks blank and more than usually +unintelligent when directed to drive to the Chatham, but his face +radiates with joy when his fare is inspired to substitute Sha-_t'am_, +with distinct emphasis on the final syllable. Then he cracks his whip +and lashes his sorry nag, with passive appreciation of his own +astuteness, all the way to the Rue Daunou. The street is so short that +he almost invariably takes one to _it_ instead of to the hotel itself. +But one must say Sha-_t'am_! + +Charles was standing, alert but pensive, quite near at hand, ready to +replenish the bowl with honey (Brock was especially fond of it), but +with his eyes cocked inquiringly, even eagerly, in the direction of an +upstairs window across the court, beyond which a thoughtless guest of +the establishment was making her toilette in blissful ignorance of the +fact that the flimsy curtains were not tightly drawn. Brock had gone to +the Chatham for years just because Charles was a fixture there. Charles +spoke the most execrably picturesque English, served with a +punctiliousness that savoured almost of the overbearing, and boasted +that he had acquired the art of making American cocktails in the Waldorf +during a five weeks' residence in the United States. + +It was a lazy morning. Brock was happy. He was even interested when a +porter came forth and unravelled a long roll of garden hose, with which +he abruptly began to splash water upon the concrete surface of the court +without regard for distance or direction. Moreover, he proceeded to +water the palms at Brock's elbow, operating from a spot no less than +twenty feet away. He likewise was casting inquiring glances at divers +windows--few if any at the plants--until the faithful Charles restored +him to earth by means of certain subdued injunctions and less moderate +gesticulations, from which it could be readily gathered that "M'sieur +was eating, not bathing." Whereupon the utterly uncrushed porter +splashed water at right angles, much to Brock's relief, while all his +fellow porters, free or engaged, took up the quarrel with rare disregard +for cause or justice. A _femme de chambre_, from a convenient window, +joined in the hubbub without in the least knowing what it was all +about. Monsieur's comfort must be preserved: that seemed to be the issue +in which, at once, all were united. "M'sieur will pardon the boy," +apologised Charles in deepest humility, taking much for granted. "It +will be very warm to-day. Your _serviette_, M'sieur--it is damp. +Pardon!" He flew away and back with another napkin. "Of course, M'sieur, +the Chatham is not the Waldorf," he announced deprecatingly. +"_Parbleu_," beating himself on the forehead, "I forgot! M'sieur does +not like the Waldorf. _Eh, bien_, Paris is not New York, no." Having +sufficiently humbled Paris, he withdrew into the background, rubbing his +hands as if he were cleansing them of something unsightly. Brock spread +one of the buttered biscuits with honey and inwardly admitted that Paris +was _not_ New York. + +He was a good-looking chap of thirty or thereabouts, an American to the +core,--bright-eyed, keen-witted, smooth-faced, virile. From boyhood's +earliest days he had spent a portion of his summers in Europe. Two or +three years of his life had been employed in the Beaux Arts,--fruitful +years, for Brock had not wasted his opportunities. He had gone in for +architecture and building. To-day he stood high among the younger men in +New York,--prosperous, successful, and a menace to the old cry that a +son of the rich cannot thrive in his father's domain. Nowadays he came +to the Old World for his breathing spells. He was able to combine +dawdling and development without sacrificing one for the other, wherein +lies the proof that his vacations were not akin to those taken by most +of us. + +The fortnight in Paris was to be followed by a week in St. Petersburg +and a brief tour of Sweden and Norway. His stay in the gay city was +drawing to a close. That very morning he expected to book for St. +Petersburg, leaving in three days. + +Suddenly his glance fell upon a name in the society column before him, +"Roxbury Medcroft." His face lighted up with genuine pleasure. An old +friend, a boon companion in bygone days, was this same Medcroft,--a +broad-minded, broad-gauged young Englishman who had profited by a stay +of some years in the States. They had studied together in Paris and they +had toiled together in New York. This is what he read: "Mr. and Mrs. +Roxbury Medcroft, of London, are stopping at the Ritz, _en route_ to +Vienna. Mr. Medcroft will attend the meeting of Austrian Architects, to +be held there next week, and, with his wife, will afterwards spend a +fortnight in the German Alps, the guests of the Alfred Rodneys, of +Seattle." + +"Dear old Rox, I must look him up at once," mused Brock. "The Rodneys of +Seattle? Never heard of 'em." He looked at his watch, signed his check, +deposited the usual franc, acknowledged Charles's well-practised smile +of thanks, and pushed back his chair, his gaze travelling involuntarily +toward the portals of the American bar across the court, just beyond the +_concierge's_ quarters. Simultaneously a tall figure emerged from the +bar, casting eager glances in all directions,--a tall figure in a +checked suit, bowler hat, white reindeer gloves, high collar, and grey +spats. Brock came to his feet quickly. The monocle dropped from the +other's eye, and his long legs carried him eagerly toward the American. + +"Medcroft! Bless your heart! I was just on the point of looking you up +at the Ritz. It's good to see you," Brock cried as they clasped hands. + +"Of all the men and of all the times, Brock, you are the most +opportune," exclaimed the other. "I saw that you were here and bolted my +breakfast to catch you. These beastly telephones never work. Oh, I say, +old man, have you finished yours?" + +"Quite--but luckily I didn't have to bolt it. You're off for Vienna, I +see. Sit down, Rox. Won't you have another egg and a cup of coffee? Do!" + +"Thanks and no to everything you suggest. Wot you doing for the next +half-hour or so? I'm in a deuce of a dilemma and you've got to help me +out of it." The Englishman looked at his watch and fumbled it nervously +as he replaced it in his upper coat pocket. "That's a good fellow, +Brock. You _will_ be the ever present help in time of trouble, won't +you?" + +"My letter of credit is at your disposal, old man," said Brock promptly. +He meant it. It readily may be seen from this that their friendship is +no small item to be considered in the development of this tale. + +"My dear fellow, that's the very thing I'm eager to thrust upon you--my +letter of credit," exclaimed the other. + +"What's that?" demanded Brock. + +"I say, Brock, can't we go up to your rooms? Dead secret, you know. +Really, old chap, I mean it. No one must get a breath of it. That's why +I'm whispering. I'm not a lunatic, so don't stare like that. I'd do as +much for you if the conditions were reversed." + +"I dare say you would, Rox, but what the devil is it you want me to do?" + +"Do I appear to be agitated?" + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Well, I _am_. You know how I loathe asking a favour of anyone. +Besides, it's rather an extraordinary one I'm going to ask of you. Came +to me in a flash this morning when I saw your name in the paper. Sort of +inspiration, 'pon my word. I think Edith sees it the same as I, although +I haven't had time to go into it thoroughly with her. She's ripping, you +know; pluck to the very core." + +Brock's face expressed bewilderment and perplexity. + +"Won't you have another drink, old man?" he asked gently. + +"Another? Hang it all, I haven't had one in a week. Come along. I must +talk it all over with you before I introduce you to her. You must be +prepared." + +"Introduce me to whom?" demanded Brock, pricking up his ears. He was +following Medcroft to the elevator. + +"To my wife--Edith," said Medcroft, annoyed by the other's obtuseness. + +"Does it require preparation for an ordeal so charming?" laughed Brock. +He was recalling the fact that Medcroft had married a beautiful +Philadelphia girl some years ago in London, a young lady whom he had +never seen, so thoroughly expatriated had she become in consequence of +almost a lifetime residence in England. He remembered now that she was +rich and that he had sent her a ridiculously expensive present and a +congratulatory cablegram at the time of the wedding. Also, it occurred +to him that the Medcrofts had asked him to visit them at their +shooting-box for several seasons in succession, and that their town +house was always open to him. While he had not ignored the invitations, +he had never responded in person. He began to experience twinges of +remorse: Medcroft was such a good fellow! + +The Londoner did not respond to the innocuous query. He merely stared +in a preoccupied, determined manner at the succeeding _étages_ as they +slipped downward. At the fourth floor they disembarked, and Brock led +the way to his rooms, overlooking the inner court. Once inside, with the +door closed, he turned upon the Englishman. + +"Now, what's up, Rox? Are you in trouble?" he demanded. + +"Are we quite alone?" Medcroft glanced significantly at the transom and +the half-closed bathroom door. With a laugh, Brock led him into the +bathroom and out, and then closed the transom. + +"You're darned mysterious," he said, pointing to a chair near the +window. Medcroft drew another close up and seated himself. + +"Brock," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward impressively, +"I want you to go to Vienna in my place." Brock stared hard. "You are a +godsend, old man. You're just in time to do me the greatest of favours. +It's utterly impossible for me to go to Vienna as I had planned, and yet +it is equally unwise for me to give up the project. You see, I've just +got to be in London and Vienna at the same time." + +"It will require something more than a stretch of the imagination to do +that, old man. But I'm game, and my plans are such that they can be +changed readily to oblige a friend. I shan't mind the trip in the least +and I'll be only too happy to help you out! 'Gad, I thought by your +manner that you were in some frightful difficulty. Have a cigaret." + +"By Jove, Brock, you're a brick," cried Medcroft, shaking the other's +hand vigorously. At the same time his face expressed considerable +uncertainty and no little doubt as to the further welfare of his as yet +partially divulged proposition. + +"It's easy to be a brick, my boy, if it involves no more than the +changing of a single letter in one's name. I'd like to attend the +convention, anyway," said Brock amiably. + +"Well, you see, Brock," said Medcroft lamely, "I fear you don't quite +appreciate the situation. I want you to pose as Roxbury Medcroft." + +"You--What do you mean?" + +"I thought you'd find that a facer. That's just it: you are to go to +Vienna as Roxbury Medcroft, not as yourself. Ha, ha! Ripping, eh?" + +"'Pon my soul, Rox, you are not in earnest?" + +"Never more so." + +"But, my dear fellow--" + +"You won't do it? That's what your tone means," in despair. + +"It isn't that, and you know it. I've got nothing to lose. It's you that +will have to suffer. You're known all over Europe. What will be said +when the trick is discovered? 'Gad, man!" + +"Then you will go?" with beaming eyes. "I knew it would appeal to you, +as an American." + +"What does it all mean?" + +"It's all very simple, if one looks at it from the right angle, Brock. +Up to last night, I was blissfully committed to the most delightful of +outings, so to speak. At ten o'clock everything was changed. Mrs. +Medcroft and I sat up all night discussing the situation with the +messenger--my solicitor, by the way. The Vienna trip is out of the +question, so far as I am concerned. It is of vital importance that I +should return to London to-night, but is even more vitally important +that the world should say that I am in Vienna. See what I mean?" + +"No, I'm hanged if I do." + +"What I have just heard from London makes me shudder to think of the +consequences if I go on east to-night. I may as well tell you that there +is a plot on foot to perpetrate a gigantic fraud against the people. The +County Council is to be hoodwinked out and out into moving forward +certain building projects, involving millions of the people's money. Our +firm has opposed a certain band of grafters, and when I left England it +was pretty well settled that we had blocked their game. They have +learned of my proposed absence and intend to steal a march on us while I +am away. Without assuming too much credit to myself, I may say that I, +your old friend, Roxbury, I am the one man who has proved the real thorn +in the sides of these scoundrels. With me out of the way, they feel that +they can secure the adoption of all these infamous measures. My partners +and the leaders on our side have sent for me to return secretly. They +won't bring the matter to issue if they find that I've returned; it +would be suicidal. Therefore it is necessary that we steal a march on +'em. I know the inside workings of the scheme. If I can steal back and +keep under cover as an advisory chief, so to speak, we can well afford +to let 'em rush the matter through, for then we can spring the coup and +defeat them for good and all. But, don't you see, old man, unless they +_know_ that I've gone to Vienna they won't undertake the thing. That's +why I'm asking you to go on to Vienna and pose as Roxbury Medcroft +while I steal back to London and set the charge under these demmed +bloodsuckers. Really, you know, it's a terribly serious matter, Brock. +It means fortune and honour to me, as well as millions to the +rate-payers of Greater London. All you've got to do is to register at +the Bristol, get interviewed by the papers, attend one or two sessions +of the convention, which lasts three days, and then go off into the +mountains with the Rodneys,--the society reporters will do the rest." + +"With the Rodneys? My dear fellow, suppose that they object to the +substitution! Really, you know, it's not to be thought of." + +"Deuce take it, man, the Rodneys are not to know that there has been a +substitution. Perfectly simple, can't you see?" + +"I'm damned if I do." + +"What a stupid ass you are, Brock! The Rodneys have never laid eyes on +me. They know of me as Edith's husband, that's all. They are to take you +in as Medcroft, of course." + +At this point Brock set up an emphatic remonstrance. He began by +laughing his friend to scorn; then, as Medcroft persisted, went so far +as to take him severely to task for the proposed imposition on the +unsuspecting Rodneys, to say nothing of the trick he would play upon the +convention of architects. + +"I'd be recognised as an impostor," he said warmly, "and booted out of +the convention. I shudder to think of what Mr. Rodney will do to me when +he learns the truth. Why, Medcroft, you must be crazy. There will be +dozens of architects there who know you personally or by sight. You--" + +"My dear boy, if they don't see me there, they can't very well +recognise me, can they? If necessary, you can affect an illness and stay +away from the sessions altogether. Give a statement to the press from +the privacy of the sickroom--regret your inability to take part in the +discussions, and all that, you know. Hire a nurse, if necessary. You +might venture to express an opinion or two on vital topics, in my name. +I don't care a hang what you say. I only want 'em to think I'm there. No +doubt our enemies will have a spy or two hanging about to see that I am +actually off for a jaunt with the Rodneys, but they will be Viennese and +they won't know me from Adam. What's the odds, so long as Edith is there +to stand by you? If she's willing to assume that you are her husband--" + +"Good Lord!" half shouted Brock, leaping to his feet, wide-eyed. "You +don't mean to say that she is--is--is to go to Vienna with me?" + +"Emphatically, yes. She's also invited. Of course, she's going." + +"You mean that she's going just as you are going--by proxy?" murmured +Brock helplessly. + +"Proxy, the devil! 'Pon my soul, Brock, you're downright stupid. She +can't have a proxy. They know her. The Rodneys are in some way +connections of hers, and all that--third cousins. If she isn't there to +vouch for you, how the deuce can you expect to--" + +"Medcroft, you _are_ crazy! No one but an insane man would submit his +wife to--Why, good Lord, man, think of the scandal! She won't have a +shred left--" + +"At the proper time the matter will be explained to the Rodneys,--not at +first, you know,--and I'll be in a position to step into your shoes +before the party returns to Paris. Afterwards the whole trick will be +exposed to the world, and she'll be a heroine." + +"I'm absolutely paralysed!" mumbled Brock. + +"Brace up, old chap. I'm going to take you around to the Ritz at once to +introduce you to my wife--to your wife, I might say. She'll be waiting +for us, and, take my word for it, she's in for the game. She appreciates +its importance. Come now, Brock, it means so little to you, and it means +everything to me. You will do this for me? For us?" + +For ten minutes Brock protested, his argument growing weaker and weaker +as the true humour of the project developed in his mind. He came at last +to realise that Medcroft was in earnest, and that the situation was as +serious as he pictured it. The Englishman's plea was unusual, but it was +not as rattle-brained as it had seemed at the outset. Brock was +beginning to see the possibilities that the ruse contained; to say the +least, he would be running little or no risk in the event of its +miscarriage. In spite of possible unpleasant consequences, there were +the elements of a rare lark in the enterprise; he felt himself being +skilfully guided past the pitfalls and dangers. + +"I shall insist upon talking it over thoroughly with Mrs. Medcroft +before consenting," he said in the end. "If she's being bluffed into the +game, I'll revoke like a flash. If she's keen for the adventure, I'll +go, Rox. But I've got to see her first and talk it all over--" + +"'Pon my word, old chap, she's ripping, awfully good sort, even though I +say it myself. She's true blue, and she'll do anything for me. You see, +Brock," and his voice grew very tender, "she loves me. I'm sure of her. +There isn't a nobler wife in the world than mine. Nor a prettier one, +either," he concluded, with fine pride in his eyes. "You won't be +ashamed of her. You will be proud of the chance to point her out as your +wife, take my word for it." Then they set out for the Ritz. + +"Roxbury," said Brock soberly, when they were in the Rue de la Paix, +after walking two blocks in contemplative silence, "my peace of mind is +poised at the brink of an abyss. I have a feeling that I am about to +chuck it over." + +"Nonsense. You'll buck up when Edith has had a fling at you." + +"I suppose I'm to call her Edith." + +"Certainly, and I won't mind a 'dear' or two when it seems propitious. +It's rather customary, you know, even among the unhappily married. Of +course, I've always been opposed to kissing or caressing in public; it's +so middle-class." + +"And I daresay Mrs. Medcroft will object to it in private," lamented +Brock good-naturedly. + +"I daresay," said her husband cheerfully. "She's your wife in public +only. By the way, you'll have to get used to the name of Roxbury. Don't +look around as if you expected to find me standing behind your back when +she says, 'Roxbury, dear!' I shan't be there, you know. She'll mean you. +Don't forget that." + +"Oh, I say," exclaimed Brock, halting abruptly, and staring in dismay at +the confident conspirator, "will I have to wear a suit of clothes like +that, and an eyeglass, and--and--good Lord! spats?" + +"By Jove, you shall wear this very suit!" cried Medcroft, inspired. +"We're of a size, and it won't fit you any better than it does me. Our +clothes never fit us in London. Clever idea of yours, Brock, to think of +it. And, here! We'll stop at this shop and pick up a glass. You can +have all day for practice with it. And, I say, Brock, don't you think +you can cultivate a--er--little more of an English style of speech? That +twang of yours won't--" + +"Heavens, man, I'm to be a low comedian, too," gasped Brock, as he was +fairly pushed onto the shop. Three minutes later they were on the +sidewalk, and Brock was in possession of an object he had scorned most +of all things in the world,--a monocle. + +Arm in arm, they sauntered into the Ritz. Medcroft retained his clasp on +his friend's elbow as they went up in the lift, after the fashion of one +who fears that his victim is contemplating flight. As they entered the +comfortable little sitting-room of the suite, a young woman rose +gracefully from the desk at which she had been writing. With perfect +composure she smiled and extended her slim hand to the American as he +crossed the room with Medcroft's jerky introduction dinging in his ears. + +"My old friend Brock, dear. He has consented to be your husband. You've +never met your wife, have you, old man?" A blush spread over her +exquisite face. + +"Oh, Roxbury, how embarrassing! He hasn't even proposed to me. So glad +to meet you, Mr. Brock. I've been trying to picture what you would look +like, ever since Roxbury went out to find you. Sit here, please, near +me. Roxbury, has Mr. Brock really fallen into your terrible trap? Isn't +it the most ridiculous proceeding, Mr. Brock--" + +"Call him Roxbury, my dear. He's fully prepared for it. And now let's +get down to business. He insists upon talking it over with you. You +don't mind me being present, do you, Brock? I daresay I can help you +out a bit. I've been married four years." + +For an hour the trio discussed the situation from all sides and in all +its phases. When Brock arose to take his departure, he was irrevocably +committed to the enterprise; he was, moreover, completely enchanted by +the vista of harmless fun and sweet adventure that stretched before him. +He went away with his head full of the brilliant, quick-witted, loyal +young American who was entering so heartily into the plot to deceive her +own friends for the time being in order that her husband might profit in +high places. + +"She _is_ ripping," he said to Medcroft in the hallway. All of the plans +had been made and all of them had been approved by the young wife. She +had shown wonderful perspicacity and foresight in the matter of details; +her capacity for selection and disposal was even more comprehensive than +that of the two men, both of whom were somewhat staggered by the +boldness of more than one suggestion which came from her fruitful +storehouse of romantic ideas. She had grasped the full humour of the +situation, from inception to _dénouement_, and, to all appearance, was +heart and soul deep in the venture, despising the risks because she knew +that succour was always at her elbow in the shape of her husband's loyal +support. There was no condition involved which could not be explained to +her credit; adequate compensation for the merry sacrifice was to be had +in the brief detachment from rigid English conventionality, in the +hazardous injection of quixotism into an otherwise overly healthful life +of platitudes. Society had become the sepulchre of youthful +inspirations; she welcomed the resurrection. The exquisite delicacy with +which she analysed the cost and computed the interest won for her the +warmest regard of her husband's friend, fellow conspirator in a plot +which involved the subtlest test of loyalty and honour. + +"Yes," said Medcroft simply. "You won't have reason to change your +opinion, Brock." He hesitated for a moment and then burst out, rather +plaintively: "She's an awfully good sort, demme, she is. And so are you, +Brock,--it's mighty decent of you. You're the only man in all the world +that I could or would have asked to do this for me. You are my best +friend, Brock,--you always have been." He seized the American's hand and +wrung it fervently. Their eyes met in a long look of understanding and +confidence. + +"I'll take good care of her," said Brock quietly. + +"I know you will. Good-by, then. I'll see you late this afternoon. You +leave this evening at seven-twenty by the Orient Express. I've had the +reservations booked and--and--" He hesitated, a wry smile on his lips, +"I daresay you won't mind making a pretence of looking after the luggage +a bit, will you?" + +"I shall take this opportunity to put myself in training against the day +when I may be travelling away with a happy bride of my own. By the way, +how long am I expected to remain in this state of matrimonial bliss? +That's no small detail, you know, even though it escaped for the +moment." + +"Three weeks." + +"Three weeks?" He almost reeled. + +"That's a long time in these days of speedy divorces," said Medcroft +blandly. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SISTER-IN-LAW + + +The Gare de l'Est was thronged with people when Brock appeared, fully +half an hour before departing time. In no little dismay, he found +himself wondering if the whole of Paris was going away or, on the other +hand, if the rest of the continent was arriving. He felt a fool in +Medcroft's unspeakable checked suit; and the eyeglass was a much more +obstinate, untractable thing than he had even suspected it could be. The +right side of his face was in a condition of semi-paralysis due to the +muscular exactions required; he had a sickening fear that the scowl that +marked his brow was destined to form a perpetual alliance with the smirk +at the corner of his nose, forever destroying the symmetry of his face. +If one who has not the proper facial construction will but attempt the +feat of holding a monocle in place for unbroken hours, he may come to +appreciate at least one of the trials which beset poor Brock. + +Every one seemed to be staring at him. He heard more than one American +in the scurrying throng say to another, "English," and he felt relieved +until an Englishman or two upset his confidence by brutally alluding to +him as a "confounded American toady." + +It was quite train time before Mrs. Medcroft was seen hurrying in from +the carriage way, pursued by a trio of _facteurs_, laden with bags and +boxes. + +"Don't shake hands," she warned in a quick whisper, as they came +together. "I recognised you by the clothes." + +"Thank God, it wasn't my face!" he cried. "Are your trunks checked?" + +"Yes,--this afternoon. I have nothing but the bags. You have the +tickets? Then let us get aboard. I just couldn't get here earlier," she +whispered guiltily. "We had to say good-by, you know. Poor old Roxy! How +he hated it! I sent Burton and O'Brien on ahead of me. My sister brought +them here in her carriage, and I daresay they're aboard and abed by this +time. You didn't see them? But of course you wouldn't know my maids. How +stupid of me! Don't be alarmed. They have their instructions, Roxbury. +Doesn't it sound odd to you?" + +Brock was icy-cold with apprehension as they walked down the line of +_wagon-lits_ in the wake of the bag-bearers. Mrs. Medcroft was as +self-possessed and as _dégagé_ as he was ill at ease and awkward. As +they ascended the steps of the carriage, she turned back to him and +said, with the most malicious twinkle in her eyes,-- + +"I'm not a bit nervous." + +"But you've been married so much longer than I have," he responded. + +Then came the disposition of the bags and parcels. She calmly directed +the porters to put the overflow into the upper berth. The _garde_ came +up to remonstrate in his most rapid French. + +"But where is M'sieur to sleep if the bags go up there?" he argued. + +Mrs. Medcroft dropped her toilet bag and turned to Brock with startled +eyes, her lips parted. He was standing in the passage, his two bags at +his feet, an aroused gleam in his eyes. A deep flush overspread her +face; an expression of utter rout succeeded the buoyancy of the moment +before. + +"Really," she murmured and could go no farther. The loveliest pucker +came into her face. Brock waved the _garde_ aside. + +"It's all right," he explained. "I shan't occupy the--I mean, I'll take +one of the other compartments." As the _garde_ opened his lips to +protest, she drew Brock inside the compartment and closed the door. Mrs. +Medcroft was agitated. + +"Oh, what a wretched _contretemps_!" she cried in despair. "Roxy has +made a frightful mess of it, after all. He has _not_ taken a compartment +for you. I'm--I'm afraid you'll have to take this one and--and let me go +in with--" + +"Nonsense!" he broke in. "Nothing of the sort! I'll find a bed, never +fear. I daresay there's plenty of room on the train. You shan't sleep +with the servants. And don't lie awake blaming poor old Rox. He's +lonesome and unhappy, and he--" + +"But he has a place to sleep," she lamented. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Brock. +It's perfectly horrid, and I'm--I'm dreadfully afraid you won't be able +to get a berth. Roxbury tried yesterday for a lower for himself." + +"And he--couldn't get one?" + +"No, Mr. Brock. But I'll ask the maids to give up their--" + +"Please, please don't worry--and please don't call me Mr. Brock. I hate +the name. Good night! Now don't think about me. I'll be all right. +You'll find me as gay as a lark in the morning." + +He did not give her a chance for further protest, but darted out of the +compartment. As he closed the door he had the disquieting impression +that she was sitting upon the edge of her berth, giggling hysterically. + +The _garde_ listened to his demand for a separate compartment with the +dejection of a capable French attendant who is ever ready with joint +commiseration and obduracy. No, he was compelled to inform Monsieur the +American (to the dismay of the pseudo-Englishman) it would be impossible +to arrange for another compartment. The train was crowded to its +capacity. Many had been turned away. No, a louis would not be of avail. +The deepest grief and anguish filled his soul to see the predicament of +Monsieur, but there was no relief. + +Brock's miserable affectation of the English drawl soon gave way to +sharp, emphatic Americanisms. It was after eight o'clock and the train +was well under way. The street lamps were getting fewer and fewer, and +the soft, fresh air of the suburbs was rushing through the window. + +"But, hang it all, I _can't_ sit up all night!" growled Brock in +exasperated finality. + +"Monsieur forgets that he has a berth. It is not the fault of the +_compagnie_ that he is without a bed. Did not M'sieur book the +compartment himself? _Très bien!_" + +As the result of strong persuasion, the _garde_ consented to make "the +grand tour" of the train de luxe in search of a berth. It goes without +saying that he was intensely mystified by Brock's incautious remark that +he would be satisfied with "an upper if he couldn't do any better." For +the life of him, Monsieur the _garde_ could not comprehend the +situation. He went away, shaking his head and looking at the tickets, as +much as to say that an American is never satisfied--not even with the +best. + +Brock lowered a window-seat in the passage and sat down, staring blankly +and blackly out into the whizzing night. The predicament had come upon +him so suddenly that he had not until now found the opportunity to +analyse it in its entirety. The worst that could come of it, of course, +was the poor comfort of a night in a chair. He knew that it was a train +of sleeping-coaches--Ah! He suddenly remembered the luggage van! As a +last resort, he might find lodging among the trunks! + +And then, too, there was something irritating in the suspicion that she +had laughed as if it were a huge joke--perhaps, even now, she was +doubled up in her narrow couch, stifling the giggle that would not be +suppressed. + +When the _garde_ came back with the lugubrious information that nothing, +positively nothing, was to be had, it is painful to record that Brock +swore in a manner which won the deepest respect of the trainman. + +"At four o'clock in the morning, M'sieur, an old gentleman and his wife +will get out at Strassburg, their destination. They are in this carriage +and you may take their compartment, if M'sieur will not object to +sleeping in a room just vacated by two mourners who to-day buried a +beloved son in Paris. They have kept all of the flowers in their--" + +"Four o'clock! Good Lord, what am I to do till then?" groaned Brock, +glaring with unmanly hatred at the door of the Medcroft compartment. + +"Perhaps Madame may be willing to take the upper--" ventured the guard +timorously, but Brock checked him with a peremptory gesture. He +proposed, instead, the luggage van, whereupon the guard burst into a +psalm of utter dejection. It was against the rules, irrevocably. + +"Then I guess I'll have to sit here all night," said Brock faintly. He +was forgetting his English. + +"If M'sieur will not occupy his own bed, yes," said the guard, shrugging +his shoulders and washing his hands of the whole incomprehensible +affair. "M'sieur will then be up to receive the Customs officers at the +frontier. Perhaps he will give me the keys to Madame's trunks, so that +she may not be disturbed." + +"Ask her for 'em yourself," growled Brock, after one dazed moment of +dismay. + +The hours crawled slowly by. He paced the length of the wriggling +corridor a hundred times, back and forth; he sat on every window-seat in +the carriage; he nodded and dozed and groaned, and laughed at himself in +the deepest derision all through the dismal night. Daylight came at +four; he saw the sun rise for the first time in his life. He neither +enjoyed nor appreciated the novelty. Never had he witnessed anything so +mournfully depressing as the first grey tints that crept up to mock him +in his vigil; never had he seen anything so ghastly as the soft red glow +that suffused the morning sky. + +"I'll sleep all day if I ever get into that damned bed," he said to +himself, bitterly wistful. + +The Customs officers had eyed him suspiciously at the border. They +evidently had been told of his strange madness in refusing to occupy the +berth he had paid for. Their examination of his effects was more +thorough than usual. It may have entered their heads that he was +standing guard over the repose of a fair accomplice. They asked so many +embarrassing and disconcerting questions that he was devoutly relieved +when they passed on, still suspicious. + +The train was late, and at five o'clock he was desperately combating an +impulse to leave it at Strassburg, find lodging in a hotel, and then, +refreshed, set out for London to have it out with the malevolent +Medcroft. The disembarking of the venerable mourners, however, restored +him to a degree of his peace of mind. After all, he reviewed, it would +be cowardly and base to desert a trusting wife; he pictured her as +asleep and securely confident in his stanchness. No: he would have it +out with Medcroft at some later day. + +He was congratulating himself on the acquisition of a bed--although it +might possess the odour of a bed of tuberoses--when all of his pleasant +calculations were upset by the appearance of a German burgher and his +family. It was then that he learned that these people had booked _le +compartement_ from Strassburg to Munich. + +Brock resumed his window-seat and despondently awaited the call to +breakfast. He fell sound asleep with his monocle in position; nor did it +matter to him that his hat dropped through the window and went scuttling +off across the green Rhenish fields. When next he looked at his watch, +it was eight o'clock. A small boy was standing at the end of the +passage, staring wide-eyed at him. Two little girls came piling, half +dressed, from a compartment, evidently in response to the youngster's +whispered command to hurry out and see the funny man. Brock scowled +darkly, and the trio darted swiftly into the compartment. + +He dragged his stiff legs into the dining-car at Stuttgart and shoved +them under a table. The car was quite empty. As he was staring blankly +at the menu, the _conducteur_ from his car hurried in with the word that +Madame would not breakfast until nine. She was still very sleepy. Would +Monsieur Medcroft be good enough to order her coffee and rolls brought +to her compartment at that hour? And would he mind seeing that the maid +saw to it that Raggles surely had his biscuit and a walk at the next +station? + +"Raggles?" queried Brock, passing his hand over his brow. The other +shrugged his shoulders and looked askance. "Oh, yes,--I--understand," +murmured the puzzled one, recovering himself. For the next ten minutes +he wondered who Raggles could be. + +He had eaten his strawberries and was waiting for the eggs and coffee, +resentfully eying the early risers who were now coming in for their +coffee and rolls. They had slept--he could tell by the complacent manner +in which their hair was combed and by the interest they found in the +scenery which he had come, by tedious familiarity, to loathe and scorn. + +The actions of two young women near the door attracted his attention. +From their actions he suddenly gathered that they were discussing +him,--and in a more or less facetious fashion, at that. They whispered +and looked shy and grinned in a most disconcerting manner. He turned red +about the ears and began to wonder, fiercely, why his eggs and coffee +were so slow in coming. Then, to his consternation, the young women, +plainly of the serving-class, bore down upon him with abashed smiles. He +noticed for the first time that one of them was carrying a very small +child in her arms; as she came alongside, grinning sheepishly, she +extended the small one toward the astounded Brock, and said in excellent +old English: + +[Illustration: Brock] + +"Good morning, Mr. Medcroft." Then, with a rare inspiration, "Baby, +kiss papa--come, now." + +She pushed the infant almost into Brock's face. He did not observe that +it was a beautiful child and that it had a look of terror in its eyes; +he only knew that he was glaring wildly at the fiendish nurse, the truth +slowly beating its way into his be-addled brain. For a full minute he +stared as if petrified. Then, administering a sickly grin, he sought to +bring his wits up to the requirements of the extraordinary situation. He +lifted his hand and mumbled: "Come, Raggles! I haven't a biscuit, but +here, have a roll, do. Give me a--a kiss!" He added the last in most +heroic surrender. + +The nurse and the maid stared hard at him; the baby turned in affright +to cling closely to the neck of the former. + +"Good Lord, sir," whispered the nurse, with a nervous glance about her; +"this ain't Raggles, sir. _This_ is a baby." + +"Do you think I'm blind, madam?" whispered he, savagely. "I can see it's +a baby, but I didn't know there was to be one. Its father didn't mention +it to me." + +"It's a wise father that knows his own child," said the nurse, with +prompt sarcasm. + +"I think they should have prepared me for this," growled he. "Is it +supposed to be mine? Does--does Mrs. Medcroft know about it?" + +"You mean, about the baby, sir? Of course she does. It's hers. Please +don't look so odd, sir. My word, sir, I didn't know you didn't know it, +sir. I wasn't told, was I, O'Brien? There, sir, you see! Mrs. Medcroft +said as I was to bring Tootles in to you, sir. She said--" + +"Tootles?" murmured Brock. "Tootles and Raggles. I daresay there's a +distinction without much of a difference. Are you Burton?" + +"Yes, Mr. Medcroft. The nurse. Won't you take baby for a minute, sir? +Just to get acquainted, and for appearance's sake." She whispered the +well-meant entreaty. Brock, now well into the spirit of the situation, +obligingly extended his arms. The baby set up a lusty howl of aversion. + +"For God's sake, take him back to his mother!" groaned Brock hastily. +"He doesn't like strangers! Take him away!" + +"It isn't a he, sir," whispered the maid, as the nurse prepared to beat +a hasty retreat with the Medcroft offspring. "It's a her, sir." + +Brock's face was a study in perplexity as they hurried from the car. + +"By George," he muttered, "what next!" + +That which did come next was even more amazing than the unexpected +advent of Tootles. He barely had recovered his equanimity--with his +coffee--when a young lady entered the car. That, of itself, was not much +to speak of, but what followed was something that not even he could have +dreamed of if he had been given the chance. He afterward recalled, in +some distress of mind, that his second quick glance at the newcomer +developed into little less than a rude stare of admiration. Small +wonder, let it be advanced in his defence. + +She was astoundingly fair to look upon--dazzling, it might be said, with +some support to the adjective. Moreover, she was looking directly into +his eyes from her unstable position near the door; what was more, a shy, +even mischievous, smile crept into her face as her glance caught his. +Never had he seen a more exquisite face than hers; never had he looked +upon a more perfect picture of grace and loveliness and--aye, smartness. +She was smiling with unmistakable friendliness and recognition, and yet +he could have sworn he had not seen her before in his life. As if he +could have forgotten such a face! A sudden sense of enchantment swept +over him, indescribable, yet delicious. + +She was coming toward him--still smiling shyly, her lips parted as if +she were breathing quickly from fear or another emotion. He set down his +coffee-cup without regard to taste or direction, his gaze fixed upon the +trim, slender figure in blue. He now saw that her dark eyes were filled +with a soft seriousness that belied her brave smile; a delicate pink had +come into her clear, high-bred face; the hesitancy of the gentlewoman +enveloped her with a mantle that shielded her from any suspicion of +boldness. Brock struggled to his feet, amazement written in his face. + +"Good morning, Roxbury," she said, in the most impersonal of greetings. +Her smile deepened as the blankness increased in his face. In the most +casual, matter-of-fact manner, she appropriated the chair across the +table from his. "Please sit down, Roxy." + +He sat down abruptly. For a single, tense, abashed moment they looked +searchingly into each other's eyes. + +"Are you Raggles?" he asked politely. + +"You poor man!" she cried, aghast. "Raggles is Edith's French poodle. +Has no one told you of the poodle?" She half whispered this. He began to +adore her at that very moment,--a circumstance well worth remembering. + +"No one has told me of _you_, for that matter," he apologised, +thrilling with a delight such as he had never known before. "Would you +mind whispering to me just who you are? Am I supposed to be your +father--or what?" + +"It is all so delightfully casual, isn't it?" she said. "I daresay they +forgot to tell you that you are a man of family. Didn't they mention me +in any way at all?" She pouted very prettily. + +"No, they ignored you and Raggles and Tootles. Are there any more in my +family that I haven't met?" + +"You see, we got to the station quite a bit ahead of Edith. That's how +you happened to miss meeting us. We saw you there, however. I recognised +you by your clothes. You seemed very unhappy. Oh, I forgot. You wanted +to know who I am. Well, I am your sister-in-law." She ordered coffee and +toast while he sat there figuring it out. When the waiter departed, he +leaned forward and said quite frankly,-- + +"You'll pardon me, I'm sure, but I can't understand how I was so +short-sighted as to marry your sister." + +"Well, you see, you didn't catch a glimpse of me until after you were +married," she railed. "I was in the Sacred Heart convent, you remember." + +"Ah, that explains the oversight. I am considered an unusually +discriminating person. Let me see: I married a Miss Fowler, didn't I?" + +"Yes, Roxbury. Four years ago, in London, at St. George's, in Hanover +Square, at four o'clock, on a Saturday. Didn't they tell you all that?" + +"I don't think they said anything about it being four o'clock. I'm glad +to know the awful details, believe me. Thanks! Do you know I decided you +were an American the instant I saw you in the door," he went on, quite +irrelevantly. + +"How clever of you, Roxbury!" + +"Oh, I say, Miss Fowler, I'm not such an ass as I look, really I'm not. +I'm trying to look like--" + +"'Sh! If you want me to believe you are not the ass you think you look, +be careful what you say. Remember I am _not_ Miss Fowler to you. I am +Constance--sometimes Connie. Can you remember that,--Roxbury?" + +He drew a long breath. "Oh, I say, Connie, I'd much rather be plain +Brock to you." + +"Please don't forget that I am doing this for my sister,--not for +myself, by any manner of means," she said stiffly. He flushed painfully, +conscious of the rebuke. + +"Please overlook my faults for the time being," he said. "I'll do +better. You see, I've been rather overcome by the sense of my own +importance. I'm not used to being the head of an establishment. It has +dazed me. A great many things have happened to me since I left the Gare +de l'Est last night." He was considerate in not referring to his unhappy +mode of travelling. "For instance, I've completely lost my head." He +might have said hat, but that would have sounded commonplace and earthy. + +"One does, you know, when he loses his identity," she said +sympathetically. "Edith says you are ripping, and all that sort of +thing," she went on hurriedly, in perfect mimicry. "You come very highly +recommended as a brother-in-law." + +"Are you to be with us until the end of the play?" + +"Yes. The Rodneys are my friends, not Edith's. Katherine Rodney was in +the convent with me. We see a great deal of each other. I'm sure you +will like her. Everybody falls dreadfully in love with her." + +"How very amiable of you to permit it," he protested gallantly. "I'm +sure I shall enjoy falling in love. Which reminds me that I've never had +a sister-in-law. They're very nice, I'm told. It's odd that Medcroft +didn't tell me about you. Would you mind advancing a bit of general +information about yourself--and, I may say, about my family in general? +It may come handy." + +"I feel as though I had known you for years," she said, frankly +returning his gaze. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her +chin in her hands. "I'm merely Edith's sister. We live in Paris,--that +is, father and I. I'm three years younger than Edith. Of course, you +know how old your wife is, so we won't dwell upon that. You don't? Then +I'd demand it of her. I haven't been in Philadelphia since I was +seven--and that's ages ago. I have no mother, and father is off in South +America on business. So, you see, little sister has to tag after big +sister. Oh!" She interrupted the recital with an abrupt change of +manner. "I'm so sorry you've finished your coffee. Now you'll have to +go. Roxbury always does." + +"But I haven't finished," he exclaimed eagerly. "I'm going to have three +or four more pots. You have no idea how--" + +"It's all right then," she said with her rarest and most confident +smile. "Well, Edith asked me to come to London for the season. The +Rodneys were in Paris at the time, however, and they had asked me to +join them for a fortnight in the Tyrol. When I said that I was off for a +visit with the--with you, I mean--they insisted that you all should come +too. They are connections, in a way, don't you see. So we accepted. And +here we are." + +"You don't, by any chance, happen to be engaged to be married, or +anything of that sort," he ventured. "Don't crush me! It's only as a +safeguard, you know. People may ask questions." + +"You are not obliged to answer them, Roxbury," she said. The flush had +deepened in her cheek. It convinced him that she _was_ in love--and +engaged. He experienced a queer sinking of the heart. "You can say that +you don't know, if anyone should be so rude as to ask." Suddenly she +caught her breath and stared at him in a sort of panic. "Heavens," she +whispered, the toast poised half-way to her lips, "_you_'re not, by any +chance, engaged, are you? Appalling thought!" + +He laughed delightedly. "People won't ask about me, my dear Constance. +I'm already married, you know. But if anyone _should_ ask, you're not +obliged to answer." + +She looked troubled and uncertain. "You may be really married, after +all," she speculated. "Who knows? Poor old Roxbury wouldn't have had the +tact to inquire." + +"I am a henpecked bachelor, believe me." + +For the next quarter of an hour they chatted in the liveliest, most +inconsequential fashion, getting on excellent terms with each other and +arriving at a fair sense of appreciation of what lay ahead of them in +the shape of peril and adventure. + +She was the most delightful person he had ever met, as well as being the +most beautiful. There was a sprightly, ever-growing air of self-reliance +about her that charmed and reassured him. She possessed the capacity for +divining the sane and the ridiculous with splendid discrimination. +Moreover, she could jest and be serious with an impartial intelligence +that gratified his vanity without in the least inspiring the suspicion +that she was merely clever. He became blissfully imbued with the idea +that she had surprised herself by the discovery that he was really quite +attractive. In fact, he was quite sincerely pleased with himself--for +which he may be pardoned if one stops to think how resourceful a woman +of tact may be if she is very, very pretty. + +And, by way of further analogy, Brock was a thoroughly likable chap, +beside being handsome and a thoroughbred to the core. It's not betraying +a secret to affirm, cold-bloodedly, that Miss Fowler had not allied +herself with the enterprise until after she had pinned Roxbury down to +facts concerning Brock's antecedents. She was properly relieved to find +that he came of a fine old family and that he had led more than one +cotillion in New York. + +He experienced a remarkable change of front in respect to Roxbury +Medcroft before the breakfast was over. It may have been due to the +spell of her eyes or to the call of her voice, but it remains an +unchallenged fact that he no longer thought of Medcroft as a stupid +bungler; instead, he had come to regard him as a good and irreproachable +Samaritan. All of which goes to prove that a divinity shapes our ends, +rough hew them how we may. + +"I'm sure we shall get on famously," he said, as she signified her +desire to return to the compartment. "I've always longed for a nice, +agreeable sister-in-law." + +"Her mission in life, up to a certain stage, is to make the man +appreciate the fact that he has, after all, been snapped up by a small +but deserving family," she said blithely. "It is also her duty to pour +oil on troubled waters and strew flowers along the connubial highway, +so long as her kind offices are not resented. By the way, Roxbury, I am +now about to preserve you from bitter reproaches. You have forgotten to +order coffee and rolls for your wife." + +"Great Scott! So I have! It's nine o'clock." He ordered the coffee and +rolls to be sent in at once. "I hope she hasn't starved to death." + +"My dear Roxbury," she said sternly, "I must take you under my wing. You +have much to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours, not the least of +your duties being the subjugation of Tootles and Raggles. Tootles is +fifteen months old, it may interest you to know. We can't afford to have +Tootles scream with terror every time she sees you, and it would be most +unfortunate if Raggles should growl and snap at you as he does at all +suspicious strangers. Once in a while he bites too. Do you like babies?" + +"Yes, I--I think I do," he said doubtingly. "I daresay I could cultivate +a taste for 'em. But, I say," with eager enthusiasm, "I love dogs!" + +"It may be distinctly in your favour that Raggles loathes the real +Roxbury. He growls every time that Roxy kisses Edith." + +"Has he ever bitten Roxy for it?" + +"No," dubiously, "but Roxy has had to kick him on several occasions." + +"How very tiresome,--to kick and kiss at the same time." + +"Raggles is very jealous, you understand." + +"That's more than I can say for dear old Roxy. But I'll try to +anticipate Raggles by compelling Edith to keep her distance," he said, +scowling darkly. "Has it not occurred to you that Tootles will be +pretty--er--much of a nuisance when it comes to mountain climbing?" He +felt his way carefully in saying this. + +"Oh, dear me, Roxbury, would you have left the poor little darling at +home--in all that dreadful heat?" + +"I'm sure I couldn't have been blamed for leaving her at home," he +protested. "She didn't exist until half an hour ago. Heavens! how they +do spring up!" + +The remainder of Brock's day was spent in getting acquainted with his +family--or, rather, his _ménage_. There were habits and foibles, demands +and restrictions, that he had to adapt himself to with unvarying +benignity. He made a friend of Raggles without half trying; dogs always +took to him, he admitted modestly. Tootles was less vulnerable. She +howled consistently at each of his first half-dozen advances; his +courage began to wane with shocking rapidity; his next half-hearted +advances were in reality inglorious retreats. Spurred on by the +sustaining Constance, he stood by his guns and at last was gratified to +see faint signs of surrender. By midday he had conquered. Tootles +permitted him to carry her up and down the station platform (she was too +young to realise the risk she ran). Edith and Constance, with the +beaming nurse and O'Brien, applauded warmly when he returned from his +first promenade, bearing Tootles and proudly heeled by Raggles. Fond +mothers in the crowd of hurrying travellers found time to look upon him +and smile as if to say, "What a nice man!" He could almost hear them +saying it. Which, no doubt, accounted for the intense ruddiness of his +cheeks. + +"Do you ever spank her?" he demanded once of Mrs. Medcroft, after +Tootles had brought tears to his eyes with a potent attack upon his +nose. She caught the light of danger in his grey eyes and hastily +snatched the offending Tootles from his arms. + +Miss Fowler kept him constantly at work with his eyeglass and his +English, neither of which he was managing well enough to please her +critical estimate. In fact, he laboured all day with the persistence, if +not the sullenness, of a hard-driven slave. He did not have time to +become tired. There was always something new to be done or learned or +unlearned: his day was full to overflowing. He was a man of family! + +The wife of his bosom was tranquillity itself. She was enjoying herself. +When not amusing herself by watching Brock's misfortunes, she was +napping or reading or sending out for cool drinks. With all the +selfishness of a dutiful wife, she was content to shift responsibilities +upon that ever convenient and useful creature--a detached sister. + +Brock sent telegrams for her from cities along the way,--Ulm, Munich, +Salzburg, and others,--all meant for the real Roxbury in London, but +sent to a fictitious being in Great Russell Street, the same having been +agreed upon by at least two of the conspirators. It mattered little that +she repeated herself monotonously in regard to the state of health of +herself and Tootles. Roxbury would doubtless enjoy the protracted +happiness brought on by these despatches, even though they got him out +of bed or missed him altogether until they reached him in a bunch the +next day. He may also have been gratified to hear from Munich that +Roxbury was perfectly lovely. She said, in the course of her longest +despatch, that she was so glad that the baby was getting to like her +father more and more as the day wore on. + +At one station Brock narrowly escaped missing the train. He swung +himself aboard as the cars were rolling out of the sheds. As he sank, +hot and exhausted, into the seat opposite his wife and her sister, the +former looked up from her book, yawning ever so faintly, and asked: + +"Are you enjoying your honeymoon, Roxbury?" + +"Immensely!" he exclaimed, but not until he had searched for and caught +Connie's truant gaze. "Aren't we?" he asked of Miss Fowler, his eyes +dancing. She smiled encouragingly. + +"I think you are such a nice man to have about," commented Mrs. +Medcroft, this time yawning freely and stretching her fine young arms in +the luxury of home contentment. + +Brock went to bed early, in Vienna that night--tired but happy, caring +not what the morrow brought forth so long as it continued to provide him +with a sister-in-law and a wife who was devoted--to another man. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE DISTANT COUSINS + + +The end of the week found Brock quite thoroughly domesticated--to use an +expression supplied by his new sister-in-law. True, he had gone through +some trying ordeals and had lost not a little of his sense of locality, +but he was rapidly recovering it as the pathway became easier and less +obscure. At first he was irritatingly remiss in answering to the name of +Medcroft; but, to justify the stupidity, it is only necessary to say +that he had fallen into a condition which scarcely permitted him to know +his own name, much less that of another. He was under the spell! +Wherefore it did not matter at all what name he went by: he would have +answered as readily to one as the other. + +He blandly ignored telegrams and letters addressed to Roxbury Medcroft, +and once he sat like a lump, with everyone staring at him, when the +chairman of the architects' convention asked if Mr. Medcroft had +anything to say on the subject under discussion. He was forced, in some +confusion, to attribute his heedlessness to a life-long defect in +hearing. Thereafter it was his punishment to have his name and fragments +of conversation hurled about in tones so stentorian that he blushed for +very shame. In the Bristol, in the Kärntner-Ring, in the Lichtenstein +Gallery, in the Gardens--no matter where he went--if he were to be +accosted by any of the genial architects it was always in a voice that +attracted attention; he could have heard them if they had been a block +away. It became a habit with him to instinctively lift his hand to his +ear when one of them hove in sight, having seen him first. + +"That's what I get for being a liar," he lamented dolefully. Constance +had just whispered her condolences. "Do you think they'll consider it +odd that you don't shout at me too?" + +"You might explain that you can tell what I am saying by looking at my +lips," she said. He was immensely relieved. + +Considerable difficulty had to be overcome at the Bristol in the matter +of rooms. Without going into details, Brock resignedly took the only +room left in the crowded hotel--a six by ten cubby-hole on the top floor +overlooking the air-shaft. He had to go down one flight for his morning +tub, and he never got it because he refused to stand in line and await +his turn. Mrs. Medcroft had the choicest room in the hotel, looking down +upon the beautiful Kärntner-Ring. Constance proposed, in the goodness of +her heart, to give up to Brock her own room, adjoining that of her +sister, provided Edith would take her in to sleep with her. Edith was +perfectly willing, but interposed the sage conclusion that gossiping +menials might not appreciate a preference so unique. + +Mr. Roxbury Medcroft's sky parlour adjoined the elevator shaft. The head +of his bed was in close proximity to the upper mechanism of the lift, a +thin wall intervening. A French architect, who had a room hard by, met +Brock in the hall, hollow-eyed and haggard, on the morning after their +first night. He shouted lugubrious congratulations in Brock's ear, just +as if Brock's ear had not been harassed a whole night long by shrieking +wheels and rasping cables. + +"Monsieur is very fortunate in being so afflicted," he boomed. "A +thousand times in the night have I wished that I might be deaf also. Ah, +even an affliction such as yours, monsieur, has its benedictions!" + +Matters drifted along smoothly, even merrily, for several days. They +were all young and full of the joy of living. They laughed in secret +over the mishaps and perils; they whiffed and enjoyed the spice that +filled the atmosphere in which they lived. They visited the gardens and +the Hofs, the Chateau at Schönbrunn, the Imperial stables, the gay +"Venice in Vienna"; they attended the opera and the concerts, ever in a +most circumspect "trinity," as Brock had come to classify their parties. +Like a dutiful husband, he always included his wife in the expeditions. + +"You are not only a most exemplary wife, Mrs. Medcroft," he declared, +"but an unusually agreeable chaperon. I don't know how Constance and I +could get on without you." + +But the day of severest trial was now at hand. The Rodneys were arriving +on the fifth day from Berlin. Despite the fact that the Seattle +"connections" had never seen the illustrious Medcroft, husband to their +distant cousin, there still remained the disturbing fear that they would +recognise--or rather fail to recognise him!--from chance pictures that +might have come to their notice. Besides, there was always the +possibility that they had seen or even met Brock in New York. He +lugubriously admitted that he had met unfortunate thousands whom he had +promptly forgotten but who seldom failed to remember him. It is not +surprising, then, that the Medcrofts, _ex parte_, were in a state of +perturbation,--a condition which did not relax in the least as the time +drew near for the arrival of the five o'clock train from the north. +Constance strove faithfully, even valiantly, to inject confidence into +the souls of the prime conspirators. + +"You have done so beautifully up to this time," she protested to the +dolorous Brock, "why should you be afraid? I once read of an Indian +chief whose name was Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Wife! He was a very brave +fellow in spite of all that. You are afraid of Edith, but can't you be +like the Indian? He--" + +"That's all very nice," mourned Brock, "but he could cover his confusion +with war paint. Don't forget that, my dear. Think of the difference in +our disguises! War paint in daubs versus spats and an eyeglass. Besides, +he didn't have to talk West End English. And, moreover, he lived in a +wigwam, and didn't have to explain a sky bedroom to strangers who +happened along." + +"That is a bit awkward," she confessed thoughtfully. "But can't you say +that you have insomnia, and can't sleep unless you are above the noise +of the street?" + +He looked at her with an expression that made a verbal reply to this +suggestion altogether unnecessary. + +"Nurse says that Tootles has forgotten the real Roxbury," she went on, +after a moment. "See how cleverly you have played the part." + +Still he stared moodily, unconvinced, at the roadway ahead. They were +driving in the Haupt Allee. + +"I hope I haven't got Roxbury into trouble by that interview I gave out +concerning the new method of fire-proofing woodwork in office buildings +and hotels. It occurred to me afterward that he is violently opposed to +the system. I advocated it. He'll have a--I might say, a devil of a time +explaining his change of front." + +As a matter of fact, when Medcroft, hiding in London, saw the reproduced +interview in the "Times," together with editorial comments upon the +extraordinary attitude of a supposedly conservative Englishman of +recognised ability, he was tried almost beyond endurance. For the next +two or three days the newspapers printed caustic contributions from +fellow architects and builders, in each of which the luckless Medcroft +was taken to task for advocating an impractical and fatuous New York +hobby in the way of construction,--something that staid old London would +not even tolerate or discuss. The social chroniclings of the Medcrofts +in Vienna, as despatched by the correspondents, offset this unhappy +"bull" to some extent, in so far as Medcroft's peace of mind was +concerned, but nothing could have drawn attention to the fact that he +was not in London at that particular time so decisively as the Vienna +interview and its undefended front. Even his shrewdest enemy could not +have suspected Medcroft of a patience which would permit him to sit +quiet in London while the attacks were going on. He found some small +solace in the reflection that he could make the end justify the means. + +On their return to the Bristol, Brock and Miss Fowler found the fair +Edith in a pitiful state of collapse. She declared over and over again +that she could not face the Rodneys; it was more than should be expected +of her; she was sure that something would go wrong; why, oh, why was it +necessary to deceive the Rodneys? Why should they be kept in the dark? +Why wasn't Roxbury there to counsel wisely--and more, _ad infinitum_, +until the distracted pair were on the point of deserting the cause. She +finally dissolved into tears, and would not listen to reason, +expostulation, or persuasion. It was then that Brock cruelly but +effectively declared his intention to abdicate, as he also had a +reputation to preserve. Whereupon, with a fine sense of distinction, she +flared up and accused him of treachery to his best friend, Roxbury +Medcroft, who was reposing the utmost confidence in his friendship and +loyalty. How could she be expected to go on with the play if he, the man +upon whom everything depended, was to turn tail in a critical hour like +this? + +"How can you have the heart to spoil everything?" she cried indignantly. +He looked at her in fresh amazement. "Roxbury would never forgive you. +We have both placed the utmost confidence in you, Mr. Brock, and--" + +"'Sh! Say 'Roxbury, dear'!" interposed the practical Constance. "The +walls may have ears, my dears." + +Then Mrs. Medcroft plaintively implored his forgiveness, and said that +she was miserable and ashamed and very unappreciative. Brock, in deep +humility, begged her pardon for his unnecessary harshness, and promised +not to offend again. + +"The first quarrel," cried Constance delightedly. "How nicely you've +made it up. And you've been married less than a week!" + +"Roxbury and I didn't have our first quarrel until we'd been married a +year," said Edith reflectively. + +"Oh, I say, Edith," exclaimed Brock, with a dark frown, "I'd rather you +wouldn't be forever extolling the good qualities of my predecessor. It's +very bad taste. Very much like the pies mother used to make." + +"Silly!" cried Medcroft's wife, now in fine humour. + +"Besides, Rox is an Englishman. It would take him a year to produce a +quarrel. The American husband is not so confounded slow. I won't live up +to Roxbury in everything." + +It was decided that Constance should greet the Rodneys upon their +arrival; the Medcrofts were not to appear until dinner time. Afterwards +the entire party would attend the opera, which was then in the closing +week. Brock, with splendid prodigality, had taken a box for the final +performance of "Tristan and Isolde." It is not out of place to remark +that Brock loathed the Wagnerian opera; he was of "The Mikado" cult. He +took the seats with a definite purpose in mind to cast the burden of +responsibility upon his wife, who would be forced to extend herself in +the capacity of hostess, giving him the much-needed opportunity to +secure safe footing in the dark area of uncertainty. He believed himself +capable of diverting the youthful Miss Rodney and his discreet +sister-in-law, but he was consumed by an unholy dread of Rodney _père_; +something told him that this shrewd American business man was not the +kind who would have the wool pulled over his eyes by anyone. Brock felt +that the support of Constance was of greater value than that of Edith at +any stage or in any emergency. + +Besides, he was now quite palpably in love with her! "I've got it bad!" +he reflected in sober consideration of his plight. "But," came the +ironic justification, "I'm able to confine it to the immediate family. +That's more than most husbands can say." + +The Rodneys descended upon the Bristol at five o'clock, rushing down +from the Nord-Bahnhof as if there was not a minute to spare. Constance +pursued Katherine to her room, where they revelled in the delights of a +reunion, gradually coming out of its throes as the hour for dressing +approached. + +"We dine early, dear," said Constance, "with supper after the opera. I +must be off to dress." + +"I am so eager to meet Mr. Medcroft. Is he nice?" + +"He's the dearest thing in the world," cried the other, her cheeks +aglow. + +"I'm so glad, on Edith's account. Most of these English matches turn out +abominably," commented Miss Rodney, who was twenty, very pretty, and +very worldly. "Oh, did I tell you that Freddie Ulstervelt is with us?" + +"No!" + +"We came across him in Berlin, and dad asked him to join us, if he had +nothing better to do, so he said he would. He was with us in Dresden and +Prague and--don't you think he's awfully jolly?" + +"Ripping!" said Constance with deplorable fervour. + +"How awfully English! He said he'd seen you in Paris this spring." + +"Yes," said Miss Fowler, her cheeks going red suddenly. "I told him +you'd asked me to be with you in June." She could have cut out her +tongue for saying this, but it was too late. Katherine laughed a trifle +hardly after a stiff moment; then a queer light flitted into her +eyes,--the light of awakened opposition. Constance was saying to +herself, "She's in love with Freddie. I might have known it." Back in +her brain lay the memory of Freddie's violent protestations of love, +uttered during those recent days in Paris. He had threatened to throw +himself into the Seine; she remembered that quite well--and also the +fact that he did nothing of the sort, but had a very jolly time at +Maxim's and sent her flowers by way of repentance. Knowing Freddie so +well, it would not have surprised her in the least to find that he had +become engaged to Katherine. His heart was a very flexible organ. + +[Illustration: Katherine] + +"Oh," said Katherine, "I believe he did say that you had mentioned us." +Of herself she was asking: "I wonder if she is in love with him!" + +And thus it transpired that Freddie Ulstervelt--addlepated, +good-looking, inconstant Freddie, just out of college--was transformed +into a bone of contention, whether he would or no. + +He was of the kind who love or make love to every new girl they meet, +seriously enough at the time, but easily passed over if need be. Rebuffs +may have puzzled him, but they left no jagged scar. He belonged to that +class which upsets the tranquillity of inexperienced maidens by +whispering intensely, "God, it's grand!" And he means it at the moment. + +Katherine Rodney was in love with him. He belonged to a fashionable New +York family of wealth, and he had been a young lion at Pasadena during +the winter just past. He owned automobiles and a yacht and--an extensive +wardrobe. These notable assets had much to do with the conquest of Mrs. +Rodney: she looked with favour upon the transitory Mr. Ulstervelt, and +believed in her heart that he had something to do with the location of +the shining sun. But of this affair more anon, as the novelists say. + +Brock was presented to the Rodneys just before the party went in to +dinner. He managed his eyeglass and his drawl bravely, and got on +swimmingly with the elder Rodneys, until Constance appeared with +Katherine and Freddie Ulstervelt. It was not until then that it occurred +to Miss Fowler that Freddie, being from New York, was almost certain to +know Brock either personally or by sight. She experienced a cold chill, +the distinct approach of catastrophe. Brock had just been told that +young Ulstervelt of New York was to be of the party. His blood ran cold. +He had never seen the young man, but he knew his father well; he had +even dined at the mansion in Madison Avenue. There was every reason, +however, to suspect that Freddie knew him by sight. Even as he was +planning a mode of defence in case of recognition, the young man was +presented. Brock's drawl was something wonderful. + +"I--aw--knew your family, I'm sure--aw, quite sure," he said. "You know, +of course, that I lived in your--aw--delightful city for some years. +Strange we never met, 'pon my soul." + +"Oh, New York's a pretty big place, Mr. Medcroft," said Freddie +good-naturedly. He was a slight young fellow with a fresh, inquisitive +face. "It's bigger than London in some ways. It's bigger upwards. Say, +do you know, you remind me of a fellow I knew in New York!" + +"Haw, haw!" laughed Brock, without grace or reason. Miss Fowler caught +her breath sharply. + +"Fellow named Brock. Stupid sort of chap, my mother says. I--" + +"Oh, dear me, Mr. Ulstervelt," cried Edith, breaking in, "you shan't say +anything mean about Mr. Brock. He's my husband's best friend." + +"I didn't say it, Mrs. Medcroft. It was my mother." Brock was hiding a +smile behind his hand. "She knows him better than I. To tell the truth, +I've never met him, but I've seen him on the Fifth Avenue stages. You +_do_ look like him, though, by Jove." + +"It's extraordinary how many people think I look like dear old Brock," +said the false Roxbury. "But, on the other hand, most people think that +Brock looks like me, so what's the odds? Haw, haw! Ripping! Eh, Mr. +Rodney?" + +"Ripping? Ripping what? Good God, am I ripping anything?" gasped Mr. +Rodney, who was fussy and fat and generally futile. He seemed to grow +suddenly uncomfortable, as if ripping was a habit with him. + +Dinner was a success. Brock shone with a refulgence that bedimmed all +expectations. His wife was delighted; in all of the four years of +married life, Roxbury had never been so brilliant, so deliciously +English (to use her own expression). Constance tingled with pride. Of +late, she had experienced unusual difficulty in diverting her gaze from +the handsome impostor, and her thoughts were ever of him--in +justification of a platonic interest, of course, no more than that. +To-night her eyes and thoughts were for him alone,--a circumstance +which, could he have felt sure, would have made him wildly happy, +instead of inordinately furious in his complete misunderstanding of her +manner toward Freddie Ulstervelt, who had no compunction about making +love to two girls at the same time. She was never so beautiful, never so +vivacious, never so resourceful. Brock was under the spell; he was +fascinated; he had to look to himself carefully in order to keep his +wits in the prescribed channel. + +His self-esteem received a severe shock at the opera. Mrs. Medcroft, +with malice aforethought, insisted that Ulstervelt should take her +husband's seat. As the box held but six persons, the unfortunate Brock +was compelled to shift more or less for himself. Inwardly raging, he +suavely assured the party--Freddie in particular--that he would find a +seat in the body of the house and would join them during the +_Entr'acte_. Then he went out and sat in the foyer. It was fortunate +that he hated Wagner. Before the end of the act he was joined by Mr. +Rodney, horribly bored and eager for relief. In a near-by _café_ they +had a whiskey and soda apiece, and, feeling comfortably reinforced, +returned to the opera house arm-in-arm, long and short, thin and fat, +liberally discoursing upon the intellectuality of Herr Wagner. + +"Say, you're not at all like an Englishman," exclaimed Mr. Rodney +impulsively, even gratefully. + +"Eh, what?" gasped Brock, replacing his eyeglass. "Oh, I say, now, 'pon +my word, haw, haw!" + +"You've got an American sense of humour, Medcroft, that's what you have. +You recognise the joke that Wagner played on the world. Pardon me for +saying it, sir, but I didn't think it was in an Englishman." + +"Haw, haw! Ripping, by Jove! No, no! Not you. I mean the joke. But then, +you see, it's been so long since Wagner played it that even an +Englishman has had time to see the point. Besides, I've lived a bit of +my life in America." + +"That accounts for it," said the tactless but sincere Mr. Rodney. + +Brock glared so venomously at the intrusive Mr. Ulstervelt upon the +occasion of his next visit to his own box, that Mrs. Medcroft smiled +softly to herself as she turned her face away. A few minutes later she +seized the opportunity to whisper in his ear. Her eyes were sparkling, +and something in her manner bespoke the bated breath. + +"You are in love with my sister," was what she said to him. He blushed +convincingly. + +"Nonsense!" he managed to reply, but without much persuasiveness. + +"But you are. I'm not blind. Anyone can see it. _She_ sees it. Haven't +you sense enough to hide it from her? How do you expect to win?" + +"My dear Mrs.--my dear Edith, you amaze me. I'm confusion itself. But," +he went on eagerly, illogically, "do you think I _could_ win her?" + +"That is not for one's wife to say," she said demurely. + +"I'd be tremendously proud of you as a sister-in-law. And I'd be much +obliged if you'd help me. But look at that confounded Ulstervelt! He's +making love to her with the whole house looking on." + +"I think it might be polite if you were to ask him out for a drink," she +suggested. + +"But I've had one and I never take two." + +"Model husband! Then take the girls into the foyer for a stroll and a +chat after the act. Don't mind me. I'm your friend." + +"Do you think I've got a chance with her?" he asked with a brave effort. + +"You've had one wife thrust upon you; why should you expect another +without a struggle? I'm afraid you'll have to work for Constance." + +"But I have your--I can count on your approval?" he whispered eagerly. + +"Don't, Roxbury! People will think you are making love to _me_!" she +protested, wilfully ignoring his question. + +He returned to the box after the second act and proposed a turn in the +foyer. To his disgust, Ulstervelt appropriated Constance and left him +to follow with Mrs. Rodney and Katherine. He almost hated Edith for the +tantalising smile she shot after him as he moved away, defeated. + +If he was glaring luridly at the irrepressible Freddie, he was not alone +in his gloom. Katherine Rodney, green with jealousy, was sending +spiteful glances after her dearest friend, while Mrs. Rodney was +sniffing the air as if it was laden with frost. + +"Don't you think Connie is a perfect dear? I'm so fond of her," said +Miss Rodney, so sweetly that he should have detected the nether-flow. + +He started and pulled himself together. "Aw, yes,--ripping!" He +consciously adjusted his eyeglass for a hasty glance about in search of +the easily disturbed Mr. Rodney. Then, to Mrs. Rodney, his mind a blank +after a passing glimpse of Constance and her escort: "Aw--er--a +perfectly jolly opera, isn't it?" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW + + +The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Alfred Rodney, a telegram in his +hand, charged down the hall to Mrs. Medcroft's door. With characteristic +Far West impulsiveness he banged on the door. A sleepy voice asked who +was there. + +"It's me--Rodney. Get up. I want to see Medcroft. Say, Roxbury, wake +up!" + +"Roxbury?" came in shrill tones from within. "He--Isn't he upstairs? +Good heaven, Mr. Rodney, what has happened? What _has_ happened?" + +"Upstairs? What the deuce is he doing upstairs?"' + +"He's--he's sleeping! Do tell me what's the matter?" + +"Isn't this Mr. Medcroft's room?" + +"Ye-es--but he isn't in. He objects to the noise. Oh, has anything +happened to Roxbury?" She was standing just inside the door, and her +voice betrayed agitation. + +"My dear Edith, don't get excited. I have a telegram from--" + +She uttered a shriek. + +"He's been assassinated! Oh, Roxbury!" + +"What the dev--Are you crazy? It's a telegram from ----" + +"Oh, heavens! I knew they'd kill him--I knew something dreadful would +happen if I left--" Here she stopped suddenly. He distinctly heard her +catch her breath. After a moment she went on warily: "Is it from a man +named Hobart?" + +"No! It's from Odell-Carney. Hobart? I don't know anybody named Hobart." +(How was he to know that Hobart was the name that Medcroft had chosen +for correspondence purposes?) "We're to meet the Odell-Carneys to-day in +Munich. No time to be lost. We've got to catch the nine o'clock train." + +"Oh!" came in great relief from the other side of the door. Then, in +sudden dismay: "But I can't do it! The idea of getting up at an hour +like this!" + +"What room is Roxbury in?" + +"I--_don't_ KNOW!!" in very decided tones. "Inquire at the +office!" + +Alfred Rodney was a persevering man. It is barely possible that he +occupied a lower social plane than that attained by his wife, but he was +a man of accomplishment, if not accomplishments. He always did what he +set out to do. Be it said in defence of this assertion, he not only +routed out his entire protesting flock, but had them at the West-Bahnhof +in time to catch the Orient Express--luggage, accessories, and all. Be +it also said that he was the only one in the party, save Constance and +Tootles, who took to the situation amiably. + +"Damn the Odell-Carneys," was what Freddie Ulstervelt said as the train +drew out of the station. Brock looked up approvingly. + +"That's the first sensible thing I've heard him say," he muttered loud +enough to be heard by Miss Fowler. "I say, who are the Odell-Carneys? +First I've heard of 'em." + +"The Odell-Carneys? Oh, dear, have you never heard of them?" she cried +in surprise. He felt properly rebuked. "They are very swell Londoners. +It is said--" + +"Then, good heavens, they'll know I'm not Medcroft," he whispered in +alarm. + +"Not at all, my dear Roxbury. That's just where you're wrong. They don't +know Roxbury the first. I've gone over it all with Edith. She's just +crazy to get into the Odell-Carney set. I regret to say that they have +failed to notice the Medcrofts up to this time. Secretly, Edith has +ambitions. She has gone to the Lord Mayor's dinners and to the Royal +Antiquarians and to Sir John Rodney's and a lot of other functions on +the outer rim, but she's never been able to break through the crust and +taste the real sweets of London society. My dear Roxbury, the +Odell-Carneys entertain the nobility without compunction, and they've +been known to hobnob with royalty. Mrs. Odell-Carney was a Lady +Somebody-or-other before she married the second time. She's terribly +smart, Roxbury." + +"How, in the name of heaven, do they happen to be hobnobbing, as you +call it, with the Rodneys, may I ask?" + +"Well, it seems that Odell-Carney is promoting a new South African +mining venture. I have it from Freddie Ulstervelt that he's trying to +sell something like a million shares to Mr. Rodney, who has loads of +money that came from real mines in the Far West. He'd never be such a +fool as to sink a million in South Africa, you know, but he's just +clever enough to see the advantage of keeping Odell-Carney in tow, as it +were. It means a great deal to Mrs. Rodney, don't you know, Roxbury, to +be able to say that she toured with the Odell-Carneys. Freddie says +that Cousin Alfred is talking in a very diplomatic manner of going on to +London in August to look fully into the master. It is understood that +the Rodneys are to be the guests of the Odell-Carneys while in London. +It won't be the season, of course, so there won't be much of a commotion +in the smart set. It is our dear Edith's desire to slip into the charmed +circle through the rift that the Rodneys make. Do you comprehend?" + +They were seated side by side in the corner of the compartment, his +broad back screening her as much as possible from the persistent glances +of Freddie Ulstervelt, who was nobly striving to confine his attentions +to Katherine. Brock's eyes were devouring her exquisite face with a +greediness that might have caused her some uneasiness if there had not +been something pleasantly agreeable in his way of doing it. + +"Yes--faintly," he replied, after an almost imperceptible conflict +between the senses of sight and hearing. "But how does she intend to +explain me away? I'll be a dreadful skeleton in her closet if it comes +to that. When she is obliged to produce the real Roxbury, what then?" + +"She's thought it all out, Roxbury," said Constance severely but almost +inaudibly. "I'm sure Freddie heard part of what you said. Do be careful. +She's going to reveal the whole plot to Mrs. Odell-Carney just as soon +as Roxbury gives the word--treating it as a very clever and necessary +ruse, don't you see. Mrs. Odell-Carney will be implored to aid in the +deception for a few days, and she'll consent, because she's really quite +a bit of a sport. At the psychological moment the Rodneys will be told. +That places Mrs. Odell-Carney in the position of being an abettor or +accomplice: she's had the distinction of being a sharer in a most +glorious piece of strategy. Don't you see how charmingly it will all +work in the end?" + +"What are you two whispering about?" demanded Freddie Ulstervelt +noisily, patience coming to an end. + +"Wha--what the devil is that to--" began Brock furiously. Constance +brought him up sharp with a warning kick on the ankle. He vowed +afterward that he would carry the mark to his grave. + +"He's telling me what a nice chap you are, Freddie," said she sweetly. +Brock glared out of the window. Freddie sniffed scornfully. + +"I'm getting sick of this job," growled Brock under his breath. "I +didn't calculate on--" + +"Now, Roxbury dear, don't be a bear," she pleaded so gently, her eyes so +full of appeal, that he flushed with sudden shame and contrition. + +"Forgive me," he said, the old light coming back into his eyes so +strongly that she quivered for an instant before lowering her own. "I +hate that confounded puppy," he explained lamely, guarding his voice +with a new care. "If you felt as I do, you would too." + +She laughed in the old way, but she was not soon to forget that moment +when panic was so imminent. + +"I--I don't see how anyone can help liking Freddie," she said, without +actually knowing why. He stared hard at the Danube below. After a long +silence he said,-- + +"It's all tommy-rot about it being blue, isn't it?" + +She was also looking at the dark brown, swollen river that has been +immortalised in song. + +"It's never blue. It's always a yellow-ochre, it seems to me." + +He waited a long time before venturing to express the thought that of +late had been troubling him seriously. + +"I wonder if you truly realise the difficulty Edith will have in +satisfying an incredulous world with her absolutely truthful story. +She'll have to explain, you know. There's bound to be a sceptic or two, +my dear Constance." + +"But there's Roxbury," she protested, her face clouding nevertheless. +"_He_ will set everything right." + +"The world will say he is a gullible fool," said he gently. "And the +world always laughs at, not with, a fool. Alas, my dear sister, it's a +very deep pool we're in." He leaned closer and allowed a quaint, +half-bantering, wholly diffident smile to cross his face. "I--I'm afraid +that you are the only being on earth who can make the story thoroughly +plausible." + +"I?" she demanded quickly. Their eyes met, and the wonder suddenly left +hers. She blushed furiously. "Nonsense!" she said, and abruptly left him +to take a seat beside Katherine Rodney. He found small comfort in the +whisperings and titterings that came, willy-nilly, to his burning ears +from the corner of the compartment. He had a disquieting impression that +they were discussing him; it was forced in upon him that being a +brother-in-law is not an enviable occupation. + +"Wot?" he asked, almost fiercely, after the insistent Freddie had thrice +repeated a question. + +"I say, will you have a cigaret?" half shouted Freddie, exasperated. + +"Oh! No, thanks. The train makes such a beastly racket, don't you know." + +"They told me at the Bristol you were deaf, but--Oh, I say, old man, I'm +sorry. Which ear is it?" + +"The one next to you," replied Brock, recovering from his confusion. "I +hear perfectly well with the other one." + +"Yes," drawled Freddie, with a wink, "so I've observed." After a +reflective silence the young man ventured the interesting conclusion, +"She's a stunning girl, all right." Brock looked polite askance. "By +Jove, I'm glad she isn't _my_ sister-in-law." + +"I suppose I'm expected to ask why," frigidly. + +"Certainly. Because, if she was, I _couldn't_. Do you get the point?" He +crossed his legs and looked insupportably sure of himself. + +They reached Munich late in the afternoon and went at once to the Hotel +Vier Jahretzeiten, where they were to find the Odell-Carneys. + +Mr. Odell-Carney was a middle-aged Englishman of the extremely +uninitiative type. He was tall and narrow and distant, far beyond what +is commonly accepted as _blasé_; indeed, he was especially slow of +speech, even for an Englishman, quite as if it were an everlasting +question with him whether it was worth while to speak at all. One had +the feeling when listening to Mr. Odell-Carney that he was being +favoured beyond words; it took him so long to say anything, that, if one +were but moderately bright, he could finish the sentence mentally some +little time in advance of the speaker, and thus be prepared to properly +appreciate that which otherwise might have puzzled him considerably. It +could not be said, however, that Mr. Odell-Carney was ponderous; he was +merely the effectual result of delay. Perhaps it is safe to agree with +those who knew him best; they maintained that Odell-Carney was a pose, +nothing more. + +His wife was quite the opposite in nearly every particular, except +height and angularity. She was bony and red-faced and opinionated. A few +sallow years with a rapid, profligate nobleman had brought her, in +widowhood, to a fine sense of appreciation of the slow-going though +tiresomely unpractical men of the Odell-Carney type. It mattered little +that he made poor investment of the money she had sequestered from his +lordship; he had kept her in the foreground by associating himself with +every big venture that interested the financial smart set. +Notwithstanding the fact that he never was known to have any money, he +was looked upon as a financier of the highest order. Which is saying a +great deal in these unfeeling days of pounds and shillings. + +Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney was dressed as all rangy, long-limbed +Englishwomen are prone to dress,--after a model peculiarly not her own. +She looked ridiculously ungraceful alongside the smart, chic American +women, and yet not one of them but would have given her boots to be able +to array herself as one of these. There was no denying the fact that +Mrs. Odell-Carney was a "regular tip-topper," as Mr. Rodney was only too +eager to say. She had the air of a born leader; that is to say, she +could be gracious when occasion demanded, without being patronising. + +In due course of time the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler were presented to +the distinguished couple. This function was necessarily delayed until +Odell-Carney had time to go into the details of a particularly annoying +episode of the afternoon. He was telling the story to his friend Rodney, +and of course everything was at a standstill until he got through. + +It seems that Mr. Odell-Carney felt the need of a nap at three o'clock. +He gave strict injunctions that there was to be no noise in the halls +while he slept, and then went into his room and stretched out. Anyone +who has stopped at the Hotel Four Seasons will have no difficulty in +recalling the electric hall-bells which serve to attract the +chambermaids to given spots. If one needs the chambermaid, he presses +the button in his room and a little bell in the hall tinkles furiously +until she responds and shuts it off. In that way one is sure that she +has heard and is coming, a most admirable bit of German ingenuity. If +she happens to be taking her lunch at the time, the bell goes on ringing +until she returns; it is a faithful bell. Coming back to Odell-Carney: +the maid on his floor was making up a room in close proximity when a +most annoying thing happened to her. A porter who had reason to dislike +her came along and turned her key from the outside, locking her in the +room. She couldn't get out, and she had been warned against making a +sound that might disturb the English guest. With rare intelligence, she +did not scream or make an outcry, but wisely proceeded to press the +button for a chambermaid. Then she evidently sat down to wait. To make +the story short, she rang her own call-bell for two hours, no other maid +condescending to notice the call, which speaks volumes for the almost +martial system of the hotel. The bell was opposite the narrator's door. +Is it, therefore, surprising that he required a great deal of time to +tell all that he felt? It was not so much of what he did that he spoke +at such great length, but of what he felt. + +"'Pon me soul," he exploded in the end, twisting his mustache with +nervous energy, "it was the demdest nap I ever had. I didn't close my +eyes, c'nfend me if I did." + +While Odell-Carney was studiously adjusting his eyeglass for a final +glare at an unoffending 'bus boy who almost dropped his tray of plates +in consequence, Mr. Rodney fussily intervened and introduced the +Medcrofts. Mrs. Odell-Carney was delightfully gracious; she was sure +that no nicer party could have been "got together." Her husband may have +been excessively slow in most things, but he was quick to recognise and +appreciate feminine beauty of face and figure. He unbent at once in the +presence of the unmistakably handsome Fowler sisters; his expressive +"chawmed" was in direct contrast to his ordinary manner of acknowledging +an introduction. + +"Mr. Medcroft is the famous architect, you know," explained the anxious +Mrs. Rodney. + +"Oh, yes, I know," drawled Mr. Odell-Carney. "You American architects +are doing great things, 'pon my soul," he added luminously. Brock stuck +his eyeglass in tighter and hemmed with raucous precision. Mrs. Medcroft +stiffened perceptibly. + +"Oh, but he's Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, the great English architect," cried +Mrs. Rodney, in some little confusion. Odell-Carney suddenly remembered. +He glared hard at Brock; the Rodneys saw signs of disaster. + +"Oh, by Jove, are _you_ the fellow who put those new windows in the +Chaucer Memorial Hall? 'Pon me soul! Are you the man who did that?" +There was no mistaking his manner; he was distinctly annoyed. + +Brock faced the storm coolly, for his friend Medcroft's sake. "I am +Roxbury Medcroft, if that's what you mean, Mr. Odell-Carney." + +"I know you're Medcroft, but, hang it all, wot I asked was, did you +design those windows? 'Gad, sir, they're the laughing sensation of the +age. Where the devil did you get such ideas--eh, wot?" His wife had +calmly, diplomatically intervened. + +"I hate that man," said Mrs. Medcroft to her supposed husband a few +minutes later. There was a dangerous red in her cheeks, and she was +breathing quickly. Brock gave an embarrassed laugh and mentioned +something audibly about a "stupid ass." + +The entire party left on the following day for Innsbruck, where Mr. +Rodney already had reserved the better part of a whole floor for himself +and guests. Mr. Odell-Carney, before they left Munich, brought himself +to the point of apologising to Brock for his peppery remarks. He was +sorry and all that, and he hoped they'd be friends; but the windows were +atrocious, there was no getting around that. His wife smoothed it over +with Edith by confiding to her the lamentable truth that poor +Odell-Carney hadn't the remotest idea what he was talking about half of +the time. After carefully looking Edith over and finding her valuably +bright and attractive, she cordially expressed the hope that she would +come to see her in London. + +"We must know each other better, my dear Mrs. Medcroft," she had said +amiably. Edith thought of the famous drawing-rooms in Mayfair and +exulted vastly. "And Mr. Medcroft, too. I am so interested in men who +have a craft. They always are worth while, really, don't you know. How +like an American Mr. Medcroft is. I daresay he gets that from having +lived so long with an American wife. And what a darling baby! She's +wonderfully like Mr. Medcroft, don't you think? No one could mistake +that child's father--never! And, my dear," leaning close with a +whimsical air of confidence, "that's more than can be said of certain +children I know of in very good families." + +Edith may have gasped and looked wildly about in quest of help, but her +agitation went unnoticed by the new friend. From that momentous hour +Mrs. Medcroft encouraged an inordinate regard for the circumspect. She +decided that it was best never to be alone with her husband; the future +was now too precious to go unguarded for a single moment that might be +unexplainable when the triumphal hour of revelation came to hand. She +impressed this fact upon her sister, with the result that while Brock +was never alone with his prudent wife, he was seldom far from the side +of the adorable lieutenant. As if precociously providing for an ultimate +alibi, the fickle Tootles began to show unmistakable signs of aversion +for her temporary parent. Mrs. Rodney, being an old-fashioned mother, +could not reconcile herself to this unfilial attitude, and gravely +confided to her husband that she feared Medcroft was mistreating his +child behind their backs. + +"Well, the poodle likes him, anyway," protested Mr. Rodney, who liked +Brock; "and if a dog likes a man he's not altogether a bad lot. If I +were you, I wouldn't spread the report." + +"Spread it!" she sniffed indignantly. "Are they not my own cousins? +Twice removed," she concluded as an after-thought. "Do you imagine that +_I_ would spread it? He may be an unnatural father, but I shall not be +the one to say so. Please bear that in mind, Alfred." + +"Well, let's not argue about it," said Mr. Rodney, departing before she +could disobey the injunction. + +Of course, there was no little confusion at the Hotel Tyrol when it came +to establishing the Medcrofts. For a while it looked as though Brock +would have to share a room with Tootles, relegating Burton to an alcove +and a couch; but Constance, in a strictly family conclave, was seized by +an inspiration which saved the day--or the night, more properly +speaking. + +"I have it, Roxbury," she cried, her eyes dancing. "You can sleep on the +balcony. A great many invalids do, you know." + +"But, good heaven, I'm not an invalid," he remonstrated feebly. + +"Of course, you're not, but can't you _say_ you are? It's quite simple. +You sleep in the open air because it does your lungs so much good. Oh, I +know! It isn't necessary to expand your chest like that. They're +perfectly sound, I daresay. I should think you'd rather enjoy the fresh +air. Besides, there isn't a room to be had in the hotel." + +"But suppose it should rain!" he protested, knowing full well he was +doomed. + +"You poor boy, haven't you an umbrella?" she cried with such a perfectly +entrancing laugh that he would have slept out in a hailstorm to provide +recompense. And so it was settled that he was to sleep in the small +balcony just off the baby's luxurious room, the hotel people agreeing to +place a cot there at night in order to oblige the unfortunate guest with +the affected lung. + +"You are so dear and so agreeable, Roxbury," purred Mrs. Medcroft, very +much relieved. "If ever I hear of a girl looking for a nice husband, +I'll recommend you." + +"It's all very nice," said he with a wry grin, "but I'm hanged if I +ought to be expected to remember all of my accomplishments." They were +sitting in her room, attended by the faithful duenna, Constance. +"First, the eyeglass; then the English language, with which I find I'm +most unfamiliar; then a deafness in one of my ears--I can't remember +which until it's too late; and now I'm to be a tubercular. You've no +idea how hard it is for me to speak English against Odell-Carney. I'm an +out-and-out amateur beside him. And it's horribly annoying to have +Ulstervelt shouting in my ear loud enough for everybody in the +dining-room to hear. It's rich, I tell you, and if I didn't love you so +devotedly, Edith, I'd be on my way at this very instant. There! I feel +better. 'On my way' is the first American line I've had in the farce +since we left Stuttgart. By the way, Edith, I'm afraid I'll have to +punch Odell-Carney's confounded head before long. He's getting to be so +friendly to me as Roxbury Medcroft that I can't endure him as Brock." + +"I--I don't understand," murmured Edith plaintively. Constance looked up +with a new interest in her ever sprightly face. + +"Well, you see, he's working so hard to square himself with Medcroft for +the break he made about the windows, that he's taking his spite out on +all American architects. Confound him, he persists in saying I'm all +right, but God deliver him from those demmed rotters, the American +builders. He says he wouldn't let one of us build a hencoop for him, +much less a dog kennel. Oh, I say, Connie, don't laugh! How would you +like it if--" But both of them were laughing at him so merrily that he +joined them at once. Burton and O'Brien, who had come in, were smiling +discreetly. + +"Come, Roxbury, what do you say to a good long walk?" cried Constance. +"I must talk to you seriously about a great many things, beginning with +egotism." He set forth with alacrity, rejoicing in spite of his +limitations. + +Upon their return from the delightful stroll along the mountain side, +she went at once to her room to dress for dinner. Brock, more deeply in +love than ever before, lighted a cigar and seated himself in the +gallery, dubiously retrospective in his meditations. He was sorely +disturbed by her almost constant allusion to Freddie Ulstervelt and his +"amazingly attractive ways." Was it possible that she could be really in +love with that insignificant little whipper-snapper? He seemed to be +propounding this doleful question to the lofty, sphinx-like +Waldraster-Spitze, looming dark in the path of the south. + +"Hello!" exclaimed a voice close to his ear,--the fresh, confident voice +that he knew so well. "I've been looking for you everywhere." Freddie +drew up a chair and sat down at his "good side." The young man appeared +to have something weighty on his mind. Brock shifted uneasily. "I want +to put it up to you, Mr. Medcroft, as man to man. You are Connie's +brother-in-law and you ought to be able to set me straight." + +"Ah, I see," said Brock vaguely. + +"You do?" queried the other, surprise and doubt in his face. + +"No, I should say I don't, don't you see," substituted Brock. + +"I was wondering how you _could_ have seen. It's a matter I haven't +discussed with anyone. I've come to have a liking for you, Roxbury. +You're my sort; you have a sort of New York feeling about you. I'm sure +you're enough of a sport to give me unprejudiced advice. Hands across +the sea, see? Well, to get right down to the point, old man,--you'll +pardon my plain speech,--I think Constance ought to marry an American." + +Brock sat up very straight. "I think that's--that's a matter for Miss +Fowler to determine," he said coldly. + +"You don't quite get my meaning," persisted Freddie, crossing his legs +comfortably. "I was trying to make it easy for myself." + +"You mean, you think she ought to marry you?" + +"That's it, precisely. How clever you are." + +"But you are said to be engaged to Miss Rodney," ventured Brock, feeling +his way. + +"That's just the point, Mr. Medcroft. We're not really engaged--but +almost. As a matter of fact, we've got to the point where it's really up +to me to speak to her father about it, don't you know. Luckily, I +haven't." + +"Luckily?" + +"Yes. That would have committed me, don't you see. I've been tentatively +engaged more than a dozen times, but never quite up to the girl's +father. Now, I don't mind telling you that I've changed my mind about +Katherine. She's a jolly good sort, but she's not just _my_ sort. I +thought she was, but--well, you know how it is yourself. The heart's a +damned queer organ. Mine has gone back to Constance in the last two +days. You are her brother-in-law, and you're a good fellow, through and +through. I want your help. I've got money to burn, and the family's got +position in the States. I can take care of her as she should be taken +care of. No little old six-room flat for her. But, of course, you +understand, I can't quite carry the thing through with Katherine still +feeling herself attached, as it were. The thing to decide is this: how +best can I let Katherine down easily and take on Connie without putting +myself in a rather hazardous position? I'm a gentleman, you see, and I +can't do anything downright rotten. It wouldn't do. I'm sure, in her +heart, Connie cares for me. I could make her understand me better if I +had half the chance. But a fellow can't get near her nowadays. Don't you +think you are carrying the family link too far? Now, what I want to ask +of you, as a friend, is this: will you put in a good word for me every +chance you get? I'll square myself with Katherine all right. Of course, +you'll understand, I don't want to actually break with Katherine until +I'm reasonably sure of Constance. I'm a guest of the Rodney family, you +see. It would be downright indecent of me. No, sir! I'm not that sort. I +shouldn't think of ending it all with Katherine so long as we are both +guests of her father. I'd wait until the end of next week." + +Brock had listened in utter amazement to the opening portion of this +ingenuous proposal. As the flexile youth progressed, amazement gave +place to indignation and then to disgust. Brock's brow grew dark; the +impulse to pull his countryman's nose was hard to overcome. Never in all +his life had he listened to such a frankly cold-blooded argument as that +put forth by the insufferable Knicker-bocker. In the end the big New +Yorker saw only the laughable side of the little New Yorker's plight. +After all, he was a harmless egoist, from whom no girl could expect much +in the way of recompense. It mattered little who the girl of the moment +might be, she could not hope to or even seek to hold his perambulatory +affections. "He's a single example of a great New York class," reflected +Brock. "The futile, priggish rich! There are thousands like him in my +dear New York--conscienceless, invertebrate, sybaritic sons of +idleness, college-bred and under-bred little beasts who can buy and then +cast off at their pleasure. They have no means of knowing how to fall in +love with a good girl. They have not been trained to it. It is not for +their scrambled intellects to discriminate between the chorus-girl brand +of attack and the subtle wooing of a gentlewoman. They can't +analyse--they can't feel! And this insipid, egotistical little bounder +is actually sitting there and asking me to help him with the girl I +love! Good Lord, what next?" He surveyed the eager Ulstervelt in the +most irritating manner, finally laughing outright in his face. The very +thought of him as Connie's accepted lover! She, the adorable, the +splendid, the unapproachable! It was excruciatingly funny! + +"Oh, I say, old man," cried Freddie, when the disconcerting laugh came, +"don't laugh! It's no damned joke." + +"'Pon my soul, Ulstervelt," apologised Brock, with a magnanimous smile, +"I haven't said it was a joke. You--" + +"Then, what are you laughing at? Something you heard yesterday?" with +fine scorn. Brock stared hard at the flushed, boyish face of the other; +it was weak and yet as hard as brass, hard with the overbearing +confidence of the spoiled child of wealth. + +"See here, Ulstervelt," he said with sudden coldness, "you're asking my +help. That's no way to get it." + +"I beg pardon! I don't mean to be rude," apologised Freddie. "But, I +say, old man, I'll make it worth your while. My father's got stacks of +coin, and he's a power in New York. Odell-Carney's right. American +architects can't design good hencoops. What we want in New York is a +rattling good, up-to-date Englishman or two to show 'em a few things. +They're a lot of muckers over there, take it from me. By Jove, Roxbury, +you don't know how I'd appreciate your friendship in this matter. It +will simplify things immensely. You'll speak a good word for me when the +time comes, now, won't you?" + +"You want me to do you a good turn," said Brock slowly. He found himself +grinning with a malicious joy. "All right, I'll see to it that Miss +Rodney doesn't marry you, my boy. I'll attend to her." + +"Just a minute," interrupted Freddie quickly. "Don't be too hasty about +that. I want to be sure of Constance first." + +"I see. I was just about to add that I'll give Constance a strong hint +that one of the most gallant young sparks in New York is likely to +propose to her before the end of the week. That will--" + +"Heavens!" exclaimed Freddie, in disgust. "You needn't do that. I've +already proposed to her five or six times." + +"And she--she is undecided?" cried Brock, his eyes darkening. + +"No, hang it all, she's _not_ undecided. She's said _no_ every time. +That's why I'm up a tree, so to speak." + +"Oh?" was all that Brock said. Of course she couldn't love a creature of +Freddie's stamp! He gloated! + +"'Gad, you're a lucky dog, Roxbury," went on Freddie enviously. "Money +isn't everything. You're married to one of the prettiest and most +fascinating women in the world. She's a wonder. You can't blame me for +wanting your wife as a sister-in-law. Now, can you? And that kid! You +lucky dog!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY + + +Brock discovered in due time that he was living in a lofty but uncertain +place, among the clouds of exaltation. It was not until the close of the +succeeding day that he began to lower himself grudgingly from the height +to which Freddie's ill-mannered confession had led him. By that time he +satisfactorily had convinced himself that no one but a fool could have +suspected Constance of being in love with Ulstervelt; and yet, on the +other hand, was he any better off for this cheerful argument? There was +nothing to prove that she cared for him, notwithstanding this agreeable +conclusion by contrast. As a matter of fact, he came earthward with a +rush, weighted down by the conviction that she did not care a rap for +him except as a conveniently moral brother-in-law. He was further +distressed by Edith's comfortless, though perhaps well-qualified, +announcement that she believed her sister to be in love; she could not +imagine with whom; she only knew she "acted as if she were." + +"Besides, Roxbury," she said warningly, "it's a most degenerate husband +who falls in love with his wife's sister." + +They were walking in one of the mountain paths, some distance behind the +others. They did not know that Mrs. Odell-Carney had stopped to rest in +the leafy niche above the path. She was lazily fanning herself on the +stone seat that man had provided as an improvement to nature. Being a +sharp-eared person with a London drawing-room instinct, she plainly +could hear what they were saying as they approached. These were the +first words she fully grasped, and they caused her to prick up her ears: + +"I don't give a hang, Edith. I'm tired of being her brother-in-law." + +"You're tired of me, Roxbury, that's what it is," in plaintive tones. + +"You're happy, you love and are loved, so please don't put it that way. +It's not fair. Think of the pitiable position I'm in." + +"My dear Roxbury," quite severely, "if there's nothing else that will +influence you, just stop to consider the che-ild! There's Tootles, dear +Tootles, to think of." + +Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney could not be expected to know that Edith was +blithely jesting. + +"My dear Edith," he said, just as firmly "Tootles has nothing to do with +the case. You know, and Constance knows, and I know, and the whole world +will soon know that I'm not even related to her, poor little beggar. I +don't see why she should come between me and happiness just because she +happens to bear a social resemblance to a man who isn't her father. +Come, now, let's talk over the situation sensibly." + +Just then they passed beyond the hearing of the astonished eavesdropper. +Good heaven, what was this? Not his child? Two minutes later Mrs. +Odell-Carney was back at the spring where they had left her somnolent +husband, who had refused to climb a hill because all of his breath was +required to smoke a cigaret. + +"Carney," she said sternly, her lips rigid, her eyes set hard upon his +face, "how long have the Medcrofts been married?" + +He blinked heavily. "How the devil should I know? 'Pon me word, it's--" + +"Four years, I think Mrs. Rodney told me. How old is that baby?" + +"'Pon me soul, Agatha, I'm as much in the dark as you. I don't know." + +"A little over a year, I'd say. Well, I just heard Medcroft say that she +wasn't his child. Whose is it?" She stood there like an accusing angel. +He started violently, and his jaw dropped; an expression of alarmed +protest leaped into his listless eyes. + +"'Pon me word, Agatha, how the devil should I know? Don't look at me +like that. Give you my word of honour, I don't know the woman. 'Pon me +soul, I don't, my dear." + +He was very much in earnest, thoroughly aroused by what seemed to be a +direct insinuation. + +"Oh, don't be stupid," she cried. "Good heavens, can there be a scandal +in that lovely woman's life?" + +"There's never any scandal in a woman's life unless she's reasonably +lovely," remarked he. + +"Whose child is she, if she isn't Medcroft's?" she pursued with a +perplexed frown. + +"Demme, Agatha, don't ask me," he said irritably, passing his hand over +his brow. "I've told you that twice. Ask them; I daresay they know." + +She looked at him in disgust. "As if I could do such a thing as that! +Dear me, I don't understand it at all. Four years married. Yes, I'm sure +that's it. Carney, you don't suppose--" She hesitated. It was not +necessary to complete the obvious question. + +"Agatha," said he, weighing his remark carefully, "I've said all along +that Medcroft is a fool. Take those windows, for instance. If he--" + +"Oh, rubbish! What have the windows to do with it? You are positively +stupid. And I'd come to like her too. Yes, I'd even asked her to come +and see me." She was really distressed. + +"And why not?" he demanded. "Hang it all, Agatha, it's nothing unusual. +She's a jolly good sort and a sight too good for Medcroft. He's a stupid +ass. I've said so all along. How the devil she ever married him, I can't +see. But, by Jove, Agatha, I can readily see how she might have loved +the father of this child, no matter who he is. Take my advice, my dear, +and don't be harsh in your judgment. Don't say a word about what you've +heard. If they are reconciled to the--er--the situation, why the devil +should we give a hang? And, above all, don't let these Rodneys suspect." +Here he lowered his voice gradually. "They're a pack of rotters and they +couldn't understand. They'd cut her, even if she is a cousin or whatever +it is. I've give a year or two of my life to know positively whether +Rodney intends taking those shares or not." He said it in contemplative +delight in what he would do if it were definitely settled. "I can't +stand them much longer." + +"What great variety of Americans there are," she reflected. "Mrs. +Medcroft and her sister are Americans. Compare them with the Rodneys and +Mr. Ulstervelt. No, Carney, I'll not start a scandal. The Rodneys would +not understand, as you say. They'd tear her to shreds and gloat over +the mutilation. No; we'll have her to see us in London. I like her." + +"And, by Jove, Agatha, I like her sister." + +"My dear, the baby is a darling." + +"But what an ass Medcroft is!" + +And thus is it proved that Mrs. Odell-Carney was not only a dutiful wife +in taking her husband into her confidence, but also that jointly they +enjoyed a peculiarly rational outlook upon the world as they had come to +know it and to feel for the people thereof. It is of small consequence +that they could not find it in their power to be in tune with the +virtuous Rodneys: the Rodneys were conditions, not effects. + +However that may be, it was Katherine Rodney, pretty, plump, and +spoiled, who pulled the first stone from the foundation of Medcroft's +house of cards. Katherine had convinced herself that she was deeply +enamoured of the volatile Freddie; the more she thought that she loved +him, the greater became the conviction that he did not care as much for +her as he professed. She began to detect a decided falling off in his +ardour; it was no use trying to hide the fact from herself that +Constance was the most disturbing symptom in evidence. Jealousy +succeeded speculation. Katherine decided to be hateful; she could not +have helped it if she had tried. + +It was very evident, to her at least, that Freddie was not to blame; he +was being led on by the artful Miss Fowler. There could be no doubt of +it--none in the least, declared Miss Rodney in the privacy of her own +miserable reflections. + +Just as she was on the point of carrying her woes to her mother, an +astounding revelation came to her out of a clear sky; an entirely new +condition came into the problem. It dawned upon her suddenly, without +warning, that Roxbury Medcroft was in love with his sister-in-law! + +[Illustration: "She began to detect a decided falling off in his +ardour."] + +When she burst in upon her mother, half an hour later, that excellent +lady started up from her couch, alarmed by the excitement in her +daughter's face. Mrs. Rodney, good soul, was one of the kind who always +think the world is coming to an end, or the house is on fire, or the +king has been assassinated, if any one approaches with a look of +distress in his face. + +"My dear, my dear!" she cried, as Katherine stopped tragically in the +doorway. "What has happened to your father? Speak!" + +"Mamma, it's worse than that! I--" + +"Merciful heaven!" The good lady blindly reached for her smelling salts. + +"I've made a dreadful discovery," went on Katherine in suppressed tones. +"It came to me like a flash. I couldn't believe my own brain. So I +watched them from my window. There's no doubt about it, mamma. It's as +plain as the nose on your face. He--" + +"My darling, what are you talking about? Is my nose--what is the matter +with my nose?" She vaguely felt of her nose in horror. + +"He's in love with her. There's no mistake. And, will you believe me, +mamma, she is _encouraging_ him! Positively! Why--why, it's utterly +contemptible! Oh, dear, what are we to do?" + +Mrs. Rodney looked blankly at her daughter, who had thrown herself in a +chair. She gasped and then gave vent to a tremulous squeak. + +"In love! Your father? With whom--who is she?" + +"Father? Oh, Lord, mother, I didn't say anything about father. Don't +cry! It's another man altogether." + +"Not Freddie Ulstervelt?" quavered Mrs. Rodney, pulling herself +together. "After all he has said to you--" + +"No, no, mamma," cried her daughter irritably. "Freddie may be in love +with her, but he's not the only one. Mamma!" She straightened up and +looked at her mother with wide, horror-struck eyes, "Roxbury Medcroft is +madly in love with Constance Fowler!" + +Mrs. Rodney did not utter a sound for fully a minute and a half. She +never took her eyes from her daughter's distressed face. The colour was +coming back into her own, and her lips were setting themselves into thin +red lines above her rigid chin. + +"I'm sorry, Katherine, that you have seen it too. I have suspected it +for several days. But I have not dared to speak--it seemed too +improbable. What are we to do?" She sat down suddenly, even weakly. + +"She's not only leading Freddie on, but she's flirting with her own +brother-in-law--her own sister's husband--her--her--" + +"Her own niece's father! It's atrocious!" + +"She's a horrid beast! And I _thought_ I loved her. Oh, mamma, it's just +dreadful!" + +"Katherine, control yourself. I will not have you upsetting yourself +like this. You'll have another of those awful headaches. Leave it all to +me, dear. Something _must_ be done. We can't stand by and see dear Edith +betrayed. She's so happy and so trusting. And, besides all that, we'd be +dragged into the scandal. I--" + +"And the Odell-Carneys too. Heavens!" + +"It _must_ be stopped! I shall go at once to Mrs. Odell-Carney and tell +her what we have discovered. It will prepare her. She is the best friend +I have, and I know she will suggest a way to put a stop to this thing +before it is too late. We must--" + +"Why don't you speak to father about it first?" + +"Your father! My dear, what would be the use? He wouldn't believe it. He +never does. I wonder if dear Mrs. Odell-Carney is in her room." The +estimable lady fluttered loosely toward the door. Her daughter called to +her. + +"If I were you, I'd wait a day or two, mamma." She was quite cool and +very calculating now. "It may adjust itself, and--and if we can just +drop a hint that we suspect, they won't be so--so--well, so public about +it. I _know_--I just _know_ that Freddie will be disgusted with her if +he sees how she's carrying on." Katherine suddenly had realised that +good might spring from evil, after all. + +In the mean time, young Mr. Ulstervelt was having troubles and +disappointments of his own. Persistent effort to make love to Miss +Fowler had finally resulted in an almost peremptory command to desist. +An unlucky impulse to hold her hand during one of his attempts to "try +her out" met with disaster. Miss Fowler snatched her hand away and, with +a look he never forgot, abruptly left him. "It's all off with her," +ruminated Freddie, shivering slightly as an after effect of the icy +stare she had given him. "She's got it in for me, for some reason or +other. Wow! That was a frost! I feel it yet. Medcroft has played the +deuce helping me. I wonder if-- Hello! There's Katherine." + +Freddie did some rapid-fire thinking in the next half-minute, with the +result that Constance Fowler was banished forever from his calculations +and Katherine Rodney restored to her own. So long as he could not +possibly win Constance he figured that he might just as well devote +himself to the girl he was virtually engaged to marry. Freddie's was a +convenient and adaptable constancy. Miss Fowler out of sight was also +out of mind; he descended upon Katherine with all of the old ardour +shining in his eyes. It was soon after Miss Rodney's conference with her +mother, and the young lady was off for a walk in the town. + +"Hello, Katherine," called he, coming up from behind. "Shopping? Take me +along to carry the bundles. I want to begin now." + +It was Miss Rodney's fancy to receive his advances with disdain. She +assumed a most unfriendly manner. + +"Indeed?" with chilling irony. "And why, may I ask?" + +Freddie was taken aback. This was most unexpected. + +"Practice makes perfect," he said glibly. "Don't you want me to carry +'em, Kitty?" He said it almost tearfully. + +Katherine exulted inwardly. Outwardly she was very cool and very +baffling. "Please don't call me Kitty. I hate it." + +"It's a dear little name. That's what I'm going to call you when we +are--well, you know." + +"I _don't_ know. What are you talking about?" + +"Oh, come now, Miss Rodney. Don't be so icy. What's up? Never +mind--don't tell me. I know. You're jealous of Connie." It was a bold +stroke and it had an immediate effect. + +"Jealous!" she scoffed, but her cheeks went red. "Not I, Freddie." She +considered for a second and then went on: "She's not in love with you. +You must be blind. She's crazy about Mr. Medcroft." + +"By Jove," exclaimed Freddie, stopping short, his eyes bulging. He +looked at her for a minute in silence, realisation sifting into his +face. "You're right! She _is_ in love with him. I see it now. Well, what +do you think of that! Her brother-in-law!" + +"And he is in love with her too. Now you may go back to her and see if +you can't win her away from him. I shan't interfere, my dear Freddie. +Don't have me on your conscience. Good-by." + +She left him standing there in the street. With well-practised tact he +darted into a tobacconist's shop. + +"Another shake-down," he reflected ruefully. "They're all passing me up +to-day. But, great hooks, what's all this about Medcroft and Constance?" +He bought some cigarets and started off for a walk, mildly excited by +this new turn of affairs. It occurred to him, as he turned it all over +in his mind, that Mrs. Medcroft was amazingly resigned to the situation. +Of course, she was not blind to her husband's infatuation for her +sister. Therefore, if she were so cheerful and indifferent about it, it +followed that she was not especially distressed; in fact, it suddenly +dawned upon him she was not only reconciled but relieved. She had ceased +to love her husband! She could be a freelance in Love's lists, +notwithstanding the inconvenience of a legal attachment. "She's ripping, +too," concluded Freddie, with a certain buoyancy of spirit. "If she +doesn't love Medcroft, she at least ought to love someone else instead. +It's customary. I wonder--" Here he reflected deeply for an instant, his +spirits floating high. Then he turned abruptly and made his way to the +Tirol. + +It came to pass, in the course of the evening, that Mr. Ulstervelt, +supremely confident from the effect of past achievements, drew the +unsuspecting Mrs. Medcroft into a secluded tête-à-tête. It is not of +record that he was ever a diplomatic wooer; one in haste never is. +Suffice it to say, Mrs. Medcroft, her cheeks flaming, her eyes wide with +indignation, suddenly left the side of the indomitable Freddie and +joined the party at the other end of the _entresol_, but not before she +had said to him with unmistakable clearness and decision,-- + +"You little wretch! How dare you say such silly things to me!" + +The rebuff decisive! And he had only meant to be comforting, not to say +self-sacrificing. He'd be hanged if he could understand women nowadays. +Not these women, at least. In high dudgeon he stalked from the room. In +the door he met Brock. + +"For two cents," he declared savagely, as if Brock were to blame, "I'd +take the next train for Paris." + +Brock watched him down the hall. He drew a handful of small coins from +his pocket, ruefully looking them over. "Two cents," he said. "Hang it +all, I've nothing here but pfennigs and hellers and centimes." + +In the course of his wanderings the disconsolate Freddie came upon Mrs. +Odell-Carney and pudgy Mr. Rodney. They were sitting in a quiet corner +of the reading-room. Mr. Rodney had had a hard day. He had climbed a +mountain--or, more accurately speaking, he had climbed half-way up and +then the same half down. He was very tired. Freddie observed from his +lonely station that Mr. Rodney was fast dropping to sleep, +notwithstanding his companion's rapid flow of small talk. It did not +take Freddie long to decide. He was an outcast and a pariah and he was +very lonely. He must have someone to talk to. Without more ado he bore +down upon the couple, and a moment later was tactfully advising the +sleepy Mr. Rodney to take himself off to bed,--advice which that +gentleman gladly accepted. And so it came about that Freddie sat face to +face with the last resort, at the foot of the _chaise-longue_, gazing +with serene adulation into the eyes of a woman who might have had a son +as old as he--if she had had one at all. She had been a coquette in her +salad days; there was no doubt of it. She had encountered fervid +gallants in all parts of the world and in all stations of life. But it +remained for the gallant Freddie Ulstervelt to bowl her over with +surprise for the first time in her long and varied career. At the end of +half an hour she pulled herself together and tapped him on the shoulder +with her fan, a quizzical smile on her lips. + +"My dear Mr. Ulstervelt, are you trying to make love to me? You nice +Americans! How gallant you can be. I am quite old enough to be your +mother. Believe me, I thank you for the compliment. I can't tell you how +I appreciate this delicate flattery. You are very delicious. But," as +she arose graciously, "I'd follow Mr. Rodney's example if I were you. +I'd go to bed." Then, with a rare smile which could not have been more +chilling, she left him standing there. + +"By Jove," he muttered, passing his hand across his eyes, as if +bewildered, "what was I saying to her? Good Lord, has it got to be a +habit with me? Was I making love to--_her_?" He departed for the +American bar. + +Mrs. Rodney had but little sleep that night. She went to bed in a state +of worry and uncertainty, oppressed by the shadows which threatened +eternal darkness to the fair name of the family--however distantly +removed. Katherine's secret had in reality been news to her; she had +not paid enough attention to the Medcrofts to notice anything that they +did, so long as they did not do it in conjunction with the +Odell-Carneys. The Odell-Carneys were her horizon,--morning, noon, and +night. And now there was likelihood of that glorious horizon being +obscured by a sickening scandal in the vulgar foreground. Inspired by +Katherine's dreadful conclusions, the excellent lady set about to +observe for herself. During the entire evening she flitted about the +hotel and grounds with all the snooping instincts of a Sherlock Holmes. +She lurked, if that is not putting it too theatrically. From unexpected +nooks she emerged to view the landscape o'er; by devious paths she led +her doubts to the gates of absolute certainty, and then sat down to +shudder to her heart's content. It was all true! For four hours she had +been trying to get to the spot where she could see with her own eyes, +and at last she had come to it. Of course, she had to admit to herself +that she did not actually hear Mr. Medcroft tell Constance that he loved +her, but it was enough for her that he sat with her in the semi-darkness +for two unbroken hours, speaking in tones so low that they might just as +well have been whispering so far as her taut ears were concerned. + +Moreover, other persons than herself had smilingly nudged each other and +referred to the couple as lovers; no one seemed to doubt it--nor to +resent it, which is proof that the world loves a lover when it +recognises him as one. + +Mrs. Rodney also discovered that Mrs. Medcroft went to her room at nine +o'clock, at least three hours before the subdued tête-à-tête came to an +end. The poor thing doubtless was crying her eyes out, decided Mrs. +Rodney. + +And now, after all this, is it to be considered surprising that the +distressed mother of Katherine did not sleep well that night? Nor should +her wakefulness be laid at the door of the tired Mr. Rodney, who was +ever a firm and stentorian sleeper. + +Morning came, and with it a horseback ride for Brock and Miss Fowler. +That was enough for Mrs. Rodney; she would hold in no longer. Mrs. +Odell-Carney must be told; she, at least, must have the chance to escape +before the storm of scandal broke to muddy her immaculate skirts. +Forthwith the considerate hostess appeared before her guest with a +headful of disclosures. She had decided in advance that it would not do +to beat about the bush, so to speak; she would come directly to the +obnoxious point. + +They were in Mrs. Odell-Carney's sitting-room. Mr. Odell-Carney was +smoking a cigaret on the balcony, just outside the window. Mrs. Rodney +did not know that he was there. It is only natural that he held himself +inhospitably aloof: Mrs. Rodney bored him to death. He did not hear all +that was poured out between them, but he heard quite enough to cause him +something of a pang. He distinctly heard his wife say things to Mrs. +Rodney that she had solemnly avowed she would not say,--things about the +Medcroft baby. + +It goes without saying that Mrs. Odell-Carney refused to be surprised by +the disclosures. She calmly admitted that she had suspected Medcroft of +being too fond of his sister-in-law, but, she went on cheerfully, why +not? His wife didn't care a rap for him--she _said_ rap and nothing +else; Mrs. Medcroft had an affair of her own, dear child; she was not so +slow as Mrs. Rodney thought, oh, no. Mrs. Odell-Carney warmed up +considerably in defending the not-to-be-pitied Edith. She said she had +liked her from the beginning, and more than ever, now that she had +really come to the conclusion that her husband was the kind who sets his +wife an example by being a bit divaricating himself. + +Mrs. Rodney fairly screeched with horror when she heard that Tootles was +"a poor little beggar," and "all that sort of thing, you know." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Odell-Carney, hating herself all the time for +engaging in the spread of gossip, but femininely unable to withstand the +test, "your excellent cousin, Mrs. Medcroft, receives two letters a day +from London,--great, fat letters which take fifteen minutes to read in +spite of the fact that they are written in a perfectly huge hand by a +man--a man, d'ye hear? They're not from her husband. He's here. He +cannot have written them in London, don't you see? He--" + +"I see," inserted Mrs. Rodney, who was afraid that Mrs. Odell-Carney +might think she didn't see. + +"Mind your Mrs. Rodney, I'm terribly cut up about all this. She has--" + +"Oh, I knew you would be," mourned Mrs. Rodney, her heart in her boots. +"You must just hate me for exposing you to--" + +"Rubbish!" scoffed the other. "It isn't that. I've been through a dozen +affairs in which my best friends were frightfully--er--complicated. I +meant to say that I'm terribly cut up over poor Mrs. Medcroft. She's a +dear. Believe me, she's a most delicious sinner. Even Carney says that, +and he's very fastidious--and very loyal." + +"They are married in name only," said Mrs. Rodney, beginning to sniffle. +She looked up and smiled wanly through her tears. "You know what I +mean. My grammar is terrible when I'm nervous." She pulled at her +handkerchief for a wavering moment. "Do you think I'd better speak to +Edith? We may be able to prevent the divorce." + +"Divorce, my dear," gasped Mrs. Odell-Carney incredulously. + +At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney emerged from his shell, so to speak. +He stalked through the window and confronted the two ladies, one of +whom, at least, was vastly dismayed by his sudden appearance. + +"Now, see here," he began without preliminary apology, "I won't hear of +a divorce. That's all rubbish--perfect rot, 'pon my soul. Wot's the use? +Hang it all, Mrs. Rodney, wot's the odds, so long as all parties are +contented? We can stand it, by Jove, if they can, don't you know. We +can't regulate the love affairs of the universe. Besides, I'm not going +to stand by and see a friend dragged into a thing of this sort--" + +"A friend, Carney," exclaimed his wife. + +"Well, it's possible, my dear, that he may be a friend. I know so many +chaps in London who might be doing this sort of thing, don't you know. +Who knows but the chap who's writing her these letters may be one of my +best friends? It doesn't pay to take a chance on it. I won't hear to it. +If Medcroft knows and his wife knows and Miss Fowler knows, why the +deuce should we bother our heads about it? Last night I heard the +Medcroft infant bawling its lungs out--teething, I daresay--but did I go +in and take a hand in straightening out the poor little beggar? Not I. +By the same token, why should I or anybody else presume to step in and +try to straighten out the troubles of its parents? It's useless +interference, either way you take it." + +"I think it's all very entertaining and diverting," said Mrs. +Odell-Carney carelessly. She yawned. + +"Do you really think so?" asked the doubting Mrs. Rodney. "I was so +afraid you'd mind. Your position in society, my dear Mrs.--" + +"My position in society, Mrs. Rodney, can weather the tempest you +predict," said Mrs. Odell-Carney with a smile that went to Mrs. Rodney's +marrow. + +"Oh, if--if you really don't mind--" she mumbled apologetically. + +"Not at all, my dear madam," remarked Odell-Carney, carefully adjusting +his eyeglass. "It's quite immaterial, I assure you." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OTHER RELATIONS + + +It is but natural to presume, after the foregoing, that the affairs of +the Medcrofts were under close and careful scrutiny from that +confidential hour. The Odell-Carneys were conspicuously nice and +agreeable to the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler. It may be said, indeed, that +Mr. Odell-Carney went considerably out of his way to be agreeable to +Mrs. Medcroft; so much so, in fact, that she made it a point to have +someone else with her whenever she seemed likely to be left alone with +him. The Rodneys struggled bravely and no doubt conscientiously to +emulate the example set by the Odell-Carneys, but it was hardly to be +expected that they could see new things through old-world eyes. They +grew very stiff and ceremonious,--that is, the Rodney ladies did. It was +their prerogative, of course: were they not cousins of the diseased? + +Four or five days of uneasy pretence passed with a swiftness that +irritated certain members of the party and a slowness that distressed +the others. Days never were so short as those which the now recklessly +infatuated Brock was spending. He was valiantly earning his way into the +heart of Constance,--a process that tried his patience exceedingly, for +she was blithely unimpressionable, if one were to judge by the calmness +with which she fended off the inevitable though tardy assault. She kept +him at arm's length; appearances demanded a discreetness, no matter how +she may secretly have felt toward the good-looking husband of her +sister. To say that she was enjoying herself would be putting it much +too tamely; she was revelling in the fun of the thing. It mattered +little to her that people--her own cousins in particular--were looking +upon her with cold and critical eyes; she knew, down in her heart, that +she could throw a bomb among them at any time by the mere utterance of a +single word. It mattered as little that Edith was beginning to chafe +miserably under the strain of waiting and deception; the novelty had +worn off for the wife of Roxbury; she was despairingly in love, and she +was pining for the day to come when she could laugh again with real +instead of simulated joyousness. + +"Connie, dear," she would lament a dozen times a day, "it's growing +unbearable. Oh, how I wish the three weeks were ended. Then I could have +my Roxbury, and you could have my other Roxbury, and everybody wouldn't +be pitying me and cavilling at you because I'm unhappily married." + +"Why do you say I could have your other Roxbury?" demanded her sister on +one occasion. "You forget that father expects me to marry the viscount. +I--" + +"You are so tiresome, Connie. Don't worry me with your love affairs--I +don't want to hear them. There's Mr. Brock waiting for you in the +garden." + +"I know it, my dear. He's been waiting for an hour. I think it is good +for him to wait," said the other, with airy confidence. "What does Roxy +say in his letter this morning?" + +"He says it will all be over in a day or two. Dear me, how I wish it +were over now! I can't endure Cousin Mary's snippishness much longer, +and as for Katherine! My dear, I hate that girl!" + +"She's been very nice lately, Edith--ever since Freddie dropped me so +completely. By the way, Burton was telling me to-day that Odell-Carney +had been asking her some very curious and staggering questions about +Tootles and your most private affairs." + +"I know, my dear," groaned Edith. "He very politely remarked to me last +night that Tootles made him think very strangely of a friend of his in +London. He wouldn't mention the fellow's name. He only smiled and said, +'Nevah mind, my dear, he's a c'nfended handsome dog.' I daresay he meant +that as a compliment for Tootles. She _is_ pretty, don't you think so, +dear?" + +"She's just like you, Edith," said Constance, who understood things +quite clearly. + +"Then, in heaven's name, Connie, why are they staring at her so +impolitely--all of them?" + +"It's because she is so pretty. Goodness, Edith, don't let every little +thing worry you. You'll have wrinkles and grey hairs soon enough." + +"It's all very nice for you to talk," grumbled Edith. "I'm going mad +with loneliness. You have a lover near you all the time--he's mad about +you. What have I? I'm utterly alone. No one loves me--no, not a soul--" + +"You won't let them love you, Edith," said Constance jauntily. "They all +want to love you--all of them." + +"I hate men," announced Mrs. Medcroft, retrospectively. + +Developments of a most refractory character swooped down upon them at +the very end of the sojourn in Innsbruck. Every one had begun to +rejoice in the fact that the fortnight was almost over, and that they +could go their different ways without having anything really regrettable +to carry away with them. The Rodneys were going to Paris, the Medcrofts +to London, the Odell-Carneys (after finding out where the others were +bent) to Ostend. Freddie Ulstervelt suddenly announced his determination +to remain at the Tirol for a week or two longer. That very day he had +been introduced to a Mademoiselle Le Brun, a fascinating young Parisian, +stopping at the Tirol with her mother. + +All might have ended well had it not been for the unfortunate +circumstance of Odell-Carney's making a purchase of the London +_Standard_ instead of the _Times_, as was his custom. His lamentations +over this piece of stupidity were cut short by the discovery of an +astonishing article upon the editorial page of the paper--an article +which created within him a sense of grave perplexity. He read the +headlines thrice and glanced through the text twice, neither time with +any very definite idea of what he was reading. His fingers shook as he +held the sheet nearer the window for a final effort to untangle the +incredible thing that lay before him in simple, unimpeachable black and +white. + +"'Pon me word," he kept repeating to himself feebly. Then he got up and +went off in extreme haste to find his wife. + +"My dear," he said to her in the carriage-way, "I must speak with you +alone." She was just starting off for a drive with Mrs. Rodney. + +"Bad news, Carney?" she demanded, struck by his expression. She was +following him toward a remote corner of the approach. He did not reply +until they were seated, much nearer to each other than was their wont. + +"Read that," he said, slipping the _Standard_ into her hands. "Wot do +you think of it?" + +"My dear Carney, I don't know. Would you mind telling me what I am to +read?" + +"The Medcroft thing. Right there." + +She read the article, her husband watching her face the while. Surprise, +incredulity, dismay, succeeded each other in rapid changes. She was +reading in sheer amazement of the doings of Roxbury Medcroft in +connection with the County Council's sub-committee--_in London_! The +story went on to relate how Medcroft, implacable leader of the +opposition to the "grafters," suddenly had appeared before the committee +with the most astounding figures and facts to support his charges of +rottenness on the part of the "clique"; his unexpected descent upon the +scene had thrown the opposing leaders into a panic; every one had been +led to believe that he was sojourning in the east. As a matter of fact, +it was soon revealed, he had been in London, secretly working on the +problem, for nearly three weeks, keeping discreetly under cover in order +that his influence might not be thwarted. His array of facts, his bitter +arraignment of the men who were trying to force the building bill +through the Council, staggered the whole city of London. At that writing +it looked as though the bill would be overthrown, its promoters had been +so completely put to rout. The committee would be compelled to take +cognisance of the startling exposure--the people would demand a full +threshing out of the obnoxious deal. Roxbury Medcroft's name was on +every one's lips. The _Standard_ had profited by securing a great +"beat." + +The Odell-Carneys looked at each other in wonder and perplexity. "What +does it mean?" asked the lady, her eyes narrowing. + +"Look here, Agatha, this paper's at least two days old. Now, how the +devil can Medcroft be in London and Innsbruck at the same time. He _was_ +here day before yesterday, wasn't he? I'm so c'nfended unobserving--" + +"Yes, yes, he was here. And this paper--" She paused irresolutely. + +"Says he was _there_. 'Pon my word, it's most uncanny. There's some +mystery here." + +"I've got it, Carney! This is not Roxbury Medcroft." + +"Good Gawd!" + +"This explains everything. Heavens, Carney! This fellow is--is her +lover! She's running about the country with him. She's--" + +"Her lover? 'Gad, my dear, he may have been so at one time, but he's the +other one's lover now, take my word for it. I say, 'pon my soul, this is +a charming game your friends the Rodneys have let us into. They--" + +"My friends! Yours, you mean!" she retorted. + +"Oh, come now! But let it go at that. They know, of course, that this +fellow isn't her husband, and yet, by Gad, Agatha, they've gone about +deliberately palming him off on us as the real article. They are +actually sanctioning the whole bloody--" + +"Stop a moment, Carney," interrupted his wife. "The London chap may be +the fraud. Let us go slow, my dear." + +"Slow? How the devil can we go slow in such fast company? No! This +fellow is the fraud. And they knew it too. They all know it. They--" + +"Rubbish! You forget that the whole Rodney tribe is up in arms because +Medcroft is making love to his wife's sister. They're not assuming +anything there, let me tell you. And he's not Edith's lover. If he's not +her husband, he's playing a part that she understands and approves. And +this--this, my dear Carney, may account for the imaginary orphanage of +Tootles. Dear me, it's quite a tangle." + +"I shall telegraph my solicitors at once for definite news. They'll know +whether the real Medcroft is in London, and then--well, by Jove, Agatha, +I can't tell just wot steps I'll take in regard to these Rodneys." + +He went into a long tirade against the unfortunate Seattle-ites, as he +called them. "Understand me, Agatha, I don't blame Mrs. Medcroft. If +she's having an affair with this chap and can pull the wool--" + +"But she isn't having an affair with this chap," cried Mrs. +Odell-Carney, her patience exhausted. "She's having an affair with a +chap in London--the one who writes--Good gracious! Of course! Why, what +fools we are. The real Medcroft is in London, and it is he who is +writing the letters. How stupid of me!" + +"Aha!" exclaimed he triumphantly. "Of course, she's getting letters from +her husband. Why not? That's to be expected. But, by the everlasting +shagpat, do you suppose that her husband knows she's off here with +another fellow who masquerades as her husband? No!" He almost shouted +it. "I've never heard of anything so brazen. 'Gad, what nerve these +Americans have. Just to think of it!" + +"I don't believe she is anything of the sort," declared his wife. "She's +as good as gold. You can't fool me, Carney. I know women." + +"Deuce take it, Agatha, so do I. And wot's more, I know men." + +"They're a poor lot, the kind you know. This pseudo Medcroft is not your +kind. He's a very clever chap and a gentleman." + +"Now, look here, Agatha, don't imagine that I'm going to be such a cad +as to turn against 'em in their hour of trial. Not I. I'm more their +friend than ever. I'll help 'em to get away from here, and I'll bulldose +these Rodneys into holding their peace forever after. It's the Rodney +duplicity that I can't stand." + +"Shall we stay here or shall we find an excuse to leave?" she asked +pointedly. + +"We'll stay long enough for me to tell the Rodneys wot I think of 'em, +I'll have an answer to my despatch by night. Then, I should advise you +to have a talk with Mrs. Medcroft. You've invited her to the house, you +know. Tell her there can't be two Medcrofts. See wot I mean? We'll see +'em through this, but--well, you understand." + +Meantime a telegram had preceded a lengthy letter into the department of +the police, both directed to Herr Bauer, who in reality was James +Githens, of Scotland Yard. The telegram had said: "Why do you say M. is +there? He is in London. Explain. Letter to-morrow." The letter had come, +and Mr. Githens, as well as the local police office, was "bowled over," +to express it in Scotland Yard English. He had wired his employers that +"M. is still in Innsbruck. Cannot be in London." It was very clearly set +forth in the letter that Roxbury Medcroft was in London, and that Mr. +Githens, of Scotland Yard, had betrayed his trust. He was virtually +charged with playing into the hands of the enemy,--"selling out," as it +were. It readily may be expected that Mr. Githens was accused of being +in the employ of the "opposition." Moreover, it is but reasonable to +assume that he took vigorous steps at once to vindicate himself: which +accounts for the woe that lurked close behind the heels of a man named +Brock. + +Brock and Constance had ridden off that afternoon to visit the historic +Schloss Ambras. The great castle had been saved for the very last of +their explorations; he had just been able to secure permission to visit +that part of the Duke's residence open on certain occasions to the +curious public. Edith had declined to accompany them. In the first +place, she was expecting the all-important message from her husband--she +was "on nettles," to quote her plaintive eagerness; in the second place, +she realised that as the crisis was at hand in the affairs of Brock and +Constance, her presence was not a necessary adjunct. Not only was she +expecting a message from Roxbury, but eagerly anticipating an outburst +of joyous news from the two who had, it seemed, very gladly left her +behind. + +The young couple, returning by the lower road from the Schloss, came to +a resting place at a little eating-house and garden on the hillside +overlooking the river Inn. It is a quiet, demure, unfrequented place +among the crags, standing in from the white roadway a hundred feet or +more, clouded by gorgeous trees and sombre cliffs. It was to this +charming, romantic retreat that Brock led his fair, now tremulous +inamorata. She, too, knew that the hour for decision had come; it was in +the air, in the glint of his eyes, in the leaping of her heart. And she +knew what she would say to him, and what they would say to the world a +few hours hence. The mountains seemed to have lost their splendid frown; +they were beaming down upon her, tenderly caressing instead of bleak +and foreboding as they always had been before. + +A rosy-cheeked girl came into the garden to serve them. Swift, cool +breezes were scurrying down the valley, bearing in their wake the soft +rain clouds that were soon to drench the earth and then radiantly pass +on. They were quite alone, seated in the shelter of a wide, overhanging +portico. A soft, green darkness was creeping over the mountainside, +pregnant with smell of the shower. + +Constance ordered tea and a bite of something to eat for both. Brock's +gaze never left her exquisite face while she was engaged in the pretty +but rather self-conscious occupation of instructing the waitress. After +the girl had departed, he leaned forward across the little table and +said, a trifle hoarsely and disjointedly,-- + +"It was most appetising to watch you do that. I could live forever on +nothing but tea and sandwiches if you were to order them." + +"You've said a great many silly things to me this afternoon." + +"I wonder--" he stopped and lowered his voice--"I wonder if you would +call it silly if I were to tell you that I love you, very, very much." +His gloved hand dropped upon hers as she fumbled aimlessly with the menu +card; something in the very helplessness of that long slim hand drew the +strength of all his love toward it--all of this confident, arrogant love +that had come to be so sure of itself in these last days. His grey eyes, +dark with the purpose of his passion, took on a new and impelling glow; +she looked into them for an instant, the wavering smile of last resort +on her parted lips; then her lids dropped quickly and her lip trembled. + +"I should still think you very silly," she said in a very low voice, +"unless--unless you _do_ love me." + +His fingers closed so tightly upon hers that she looked up, her eyes +swimming with tenderness. Neither spoke for a long minute, but words +were not needed to tell what the soul was saying through the eyes. + +"I _do_ love you--you know I do, Connie. I've loved you from the first +day. I cannot live without you, Connie, darling, you won't keep me +waiting? You will be my wife--you will marry me at once? You _do_ love +me, I know--I've known it for days and days--" + +She whimsically broke in upon his passionate declaration, saying with a +pretty petulance: "Oh, you have? What insufferable conceit! I--" + +He laughed joyously. "I never was so sure of anything in my life," he +said. "You couldn't help loving me, Constance; I've loved you so. You +don't have to tell me, dear; I know. Still, I'd like to hear you say, +with those dear lips as well as with your eyes, that you love me." + +She put her hand upon the back of the broad one which held the other +imprisoned; there was a proud, earnest light in her eyes. "I _do_ love +you," she said simply. + +"God, but I'm a happy man," he exulted. Forgetful of the time and the +place, he half arose and, leaning forward, kissed her full upon the +upturned lips. + +There was a rattling of chinaware behind them. In no little confusion +both came tumbling down from Paradise, and found themselves under the +abashed scrutiny of a very red-faced young serving-woman. + +"Oh, never mind," stammered Gretchen quite amiably. "I am used to that, +madame. A great many ladies and gentlemen come here to--to--what you +call it?" She placed the tea and sandwiches before them, her fingers +all thumbs, her cheeks aglow. + +Brock pulled himself together. Very sternly he said: "This young lady is +to be my wife." + +"Ach," said Gretchen, with a friendly smile and the utmost deference, +"that is what they all say, mein Herr." Then, giggling approvingly, she +bustled away. + +Brock waited until she was out of sight. "She seems to be onto us, as +Freddie would say. But what do we care? I'd like to stand on top of the +Bandjoch and shout the news to the world. Wouldn't you, dearest?" + +"The world wouldn't hear us, dear," she said coolly. "Besides, it's +raining up there. Just look at it sweeping down upon us! Goodness!" + +He laughed hilariously, amused by her attempt to be casual and +indifferent. "You can't turn it off so easily as that, dearest," he +cried. "Come! While it rains we may plan. You will marry me--to-morrow?" + +"No!" she cried, aghast. "How utterly ridiculous!" + +"Well, then, day after to-morrow?" + +"No, no--nor week after next. I--" + +"See here, Connie, we've got some one else to consider as well as +ourselves. In order to square it all up for Edith, we must be able to +say to these people that we haven't been frivolling--that we are going +to be married at once. That will let Edith out of the difficulty, and +everything will look rosy at the outset. If we put it off, the world +will have said things in its ignorance that she can never refute, simply +because the world doesn't stop long enough to hear two sides of a story +unless they are given pretty closely together. Now Edith is counting on +us to put the peeping-Tom Rodneys and the charitable Carneys to rout +with our own little bombshell. They're saying nasty things about all +of us. They're calling you a vile thing for stealing your sister's +husband, and they're calling me a dog for what I'm doing. No telling +what they'll be saying if we don't step into the breach as soon as it is +opened. We can't afford to wait, no matter what Roxbury says when he +comes. We've just got to be able to forestall even dear old Roxbury. +Come! Don't you see? We must be married at once." + +[Illustration: "'I _do_ love you,' she said simply."] + +"Dear me," she murmured softly, "what will papa say?" + +"My dear Constance, I will explain it all to your father when he gets +back from South America next winter." + +It was now raining in torrents. They moved back into the darkest recess +of their shelter, and blissfully looked out upon the drenched universe +with eyes that saw nothing but sweet sunshine and fair weather. + +The clattering of horses' hoofs upon the hard mountain road sounded +suddenly above the hiss of the rain-storm. It was quite dark by this +time, night having been hurried on by the lowering skies. A moment +later, three horsemen, drenched to the skin, drew up in front of the +inn, threw their reins over the posts, and dashed for shelter. They came +noisily into the arbour, growling and stamping their soggy feet. + +"What, ho!" called one of the newcomers, sticking his head through a +window of the house. Brock and Miss Fowler looked on, amused by the +plight of the riders. Two of them were unquestionably officers of the +police; the third seemed to be an Englishman. They were gruff, burly +fellows, all of them. For a few minutes they stormed and growled about +their miserable luck in being caught in the downpour, ordering schnapps +and brandy in large and instant quantities. At last the Englishman, a +heavy, sour-faced man, turned his gaze in the direction of the lovers, +who sat quite close together in the dark corner. His gaze developed into +a stare, then a look of triumph. A moment later he was pointing out the +couple to his companions, all three peering at them with excited eyes. + +Brock's face went red under the rude stare; he was on the point of +resenting it when the Englishman stepped forward. The American arose at +once. + +"I've been looking for you, Mr. Medcroft--if that is your name," said +the stranger, halting in front of the table. "My name is Githens, +Scotland Yard. These men have an order for your arrest. I'd advise you +to go with them peaceably. The young woman will not be bothered. She is +free to go." + +"What are you talking about?" demanded Brock angrily. Suddenly he felt a +chill of misgiving. What had Roxbury Medcroft been doing that he should +be subject to arrest? + +"You are masquerading here as Roxbury Medcroft the architect. You are +not Medcroft. I have watched you for weeks. To-day we have learned that +Medcroft is in London. Your linen is marked with a letter B. You've +drawn money on a letter of credit together with a woman who signs +herself as Edith F. Medcroft. There is something wrong with you, Mr. B., +and these officers, acting for the hotel and the State Bank, have been +instructed to detain you pending an investigation." + +Mr. Githens was vindicating himself. He may have been a trifle +disconcerted by Miss Fowler's musical laugh and Brock's plain guffaw, +but he managed to preserve a stiff dignity. "It's no laughing matter. +Officers, this is your man. Take him in charge. Madam, as I understand +it, you are the alleged sister of the woman who is working herself off +as Mrs. Medcroft. It may interest you to know that your sister--if she +is your sister--has locked herself in her room and was in hysterics when +I left the hotel. She will be carefully guarded, however. She cannot +escape. As for you, madam, there is as yet no complaint against you, but +I wish to notify you that you may consider yourself under surveillance +until after your friends have had a hearing before the magistrate +to-morrow. As soon as it has ceased raining we will ask you to ride with +us to the city. As for Mr. B., he is in charge of these officers." + +At eight o'clock that evening a solemn cavalcade rode into Innsbruck. +There were tears of expostulation in the eyes of the lone young woman, +flashes of indignation in those of the tall young man who rode beside +her. + +The tall young man was going to gaol! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE THREE GUARDIANS + + +The anti-climax had struck the Hotel Tirol some hours before it came +upon Brock and Miss Fowler. It seems that Githens had gone first to the +big hostelry in quest of light on the very puzzling dilemma in which he +found himself involved. Inquiries at the office only served to stir up a +grave commotion among the clerks and managers, all of whom vociferously +maintained that the hotel was entirely blameless if any deception had +been practised. The Tirol did not tolerate anything that savoured of the +scandalous; the Tirol was a respectable house; the Tirol was ever +careful, always rigid in the protection of its good name; and so on and +so forth at great length and with great precision. But Mr. Githens had +two officers with him, and he demanded the person of the man calling +himself Roxbury Medcroft. The principal bank in the city was also +represented in the company of investigators. Likewise there was a +laconic gentleman from the British office. + +Mr. Medcroft was out. Then, they agreed, it was necessary to see Mrs. +Medcroft, or the lady representing herself to be such. Mr. Githens was +permitted to go to her rooms in company with the manager of the hotel. +What transpired in those rooms during the next fifteen minutes would be +quite impossible to narrate short of an entire volume. Edith promptly +collapsed. Subsequently she became hysterical. She begged for time, and, +getting it, proceeded to threaten every one with prosecution. + +"I _am_ Mrs. Medcroft!" she declared piteously. "Where is the American +consul? I demand the American consul!" + +"What has the American government to do with it?" gruffly demanded Mr. +Githens. + +"Mr.--Mr.--the gentleman whom you accuse is an American citizen!" she +stammered. + +"Oho! Then he is not an Englishman?" + +"I refuse to answer your questions. You are impertinent. I ask you, sir, +as the manager of this hotel, to eject this man from my rooms." The +manager smiled blandly and did not eject the man. + +"But, madam," he said, "we have a right to know who and what you are. If +Mr. Medcroft is in London, this gentleman surely cannot be he, the real +Mr. Medcroft. We must have an explanation." + +"I'll--I will explain everything to-morrow. Oh, by the way, is there a +telegram for me in the office? There must be. I've been expecting it all +day. I telegraphed to London for it." + +"There is no telegram down there, madam." + +At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney appeared on the scene, uninvited but +welcome. + +"Wot's all this?" he demanded sternly. Everybody proceeded at once to +tell him. Somehow he got the drift of the story. "Get out--all of you!" +he said. "I stand sponsor for Mrs. Medcroft. She _is_ Mrs. Medcroft, +hang you, sir. If you come around here bothering her again, I'll have +the law upon you. The Medcrofts are English citizens and--" + +"Oh, they are, are they?" sneered Mr. Githens, with a sinister chuckle. + +"Who the devil are you, sir?" + +"I'm from Scotland Yard." + +"I thought so. You've proved it, 'pon my soul. I am Odell-Carney. +Daresay you've heard of me." + +"I know you by sight, sir. But that--" + +"Clever chap, by Jove! And there's no but about it. Mr.--Mr.--never mind +what it is. I don't want to know your name. Mrs. Medcroft, will you +permit me to send my wife up to you? Mr. Manager, I insist that you take +this c'nfended rabble down to the office and tell them to go to the +devil? Don't do it up here; do it down there." + +After some further discussion and protest, the Scotland Yard man and his +party left the room to its distracted mistress. It may be well to +remark, for the sake of local colour, that Tootles was crying lustily, +while Raggles barked in spite of all that O'Brien could do to stop him. + +Odell-Carney sent his wife to Edith. A few minutes later, as he was +making his way to the office, he came upon Mrs. Rodney and Katherine, +hurrying, white-faced, to their rooms. + +"Oh, isn't it dreadful?" wailed the former, putting her clenched hands +to her temples. + +"Isn't wot dreadful?" demanded he brutally. + +"About Edith! They're going to arrest her." + +"Not if I can help it, madam. Where is Mr. Rodney?" + +"He hasn't anything to do with it! We're as innocent as children unborn. +It's all shocking to us. Mr. Rodney shouldn't be arrested. His +rectitude is without a flaw. For heaven's sake, don't implicate him. +He's--" + +"Madam, I am not a policeman," said Odell-Carney with scathing dignity. +"I want your husband to aid me in hushing this c'nfended thing." + +"He shan't do it! I won't permit him to be mixed up in it," almost +screamed Mrs. Rodney. "I've just heard that he isn't a husband at all. +It's atrocious!" + +"Bless me, Mrs. Rodney," roared Odell-Carney, "then you oughtn't to be +living with him if he isn't your husband. You're as bad as-- Hi, look +out, there! Don't do that!" Mrs. Rodney had collapsed into her +daughter's arms, gasping for breath. + +"She's all upset, Mr. Odell-Carney," said Katherine, shaking her mother +soundly. "It's just nerves. If you see papa, send him to us. We must +take the _first_ train for--for anywhere. Will you tell Mrs. +Odell-Carney that if she'll get ready at once, papa will see to the +tickets." + +"Tickets? But, my dear young lady, we're not going anywhere. We're going +to stay here and see your cousin out of her troubles. My wife is with +her now." + +He started away as Mr. Rodney came puffing up the stairs. Odell-Carney +changed his mind and waited. + +"Where's Edith?" panted Mr. Rodney. + +"Good heavens!" groaned his wife, lowering her voice because three +chambermaids were looking on from a near-by turn. "Don't mention that +creature's name. Just think what she's got us into. He isn't her +husband. Alfred, telephone for tickets on to-night's train. To-morrow +will be too late. I won't stay here another minute. Everybody in the +hotel is talking. We'll all be arrested." + +But Mr. Rodney, for once, was the head of the family. He faced her +sternly. + +"Go to your rooms, both of you. We'll stay here until this thing is +ended. I don't give a hang what she's done, I'm not going to desert +her." + +"But--but he isn't her husband," gasped Mrs. Rodney, struck dumb by this +amazing rebellion. + +"But she's your cousin, isn't she, madam?" he retorted with fierce +irony. + +"I disown her!" wailed his wife, _sans raison_. + +"Go to your rooms!" stormed pudgy Mr. Rodney. Then, as they slunk away, +he turned to the approving Odell-Carney, sticking out his chest a trifle +in his new-found authority. "I say, Carney, what's to be done next?" + +The other looked at him for a moment as if in doubt. Then his face +cleared, and he took the little man's arm in his. + +"We'll have a drink first and then see," he said. + +As they were entering the buffet, a cheery voice accosted them from +behind. Freddie Ulstervelt came up, real distress in his face. + +"I say, count me in on this. I'll buy, if I may. I've just heard the +news from the door porter. Bloody shame, isn't it? I had Mademoiselle Le +Brun over to hear the band concert--she is related to that painter +woman, by the way; I told Katherine she was. Say, gentlemen, we'll stand +by Mrs. Medcroft, won't we? Count me in. If it's anything that money can +square, I'm here with a letter of credit six figures long." + +"Join us," said Odell-Carney warmly. "You're a good sort, after all." + +They sat down at a table. Freddie stood between them, a hand on the +shoulder of each. Very seriously he was saying: + +"I say, gentlemen, we can't abandon a woman at a time like this. We must +stand together. All true sports and black sheep _should_ stand together, +don't you know." + +It is possible that Odell-Carney appreciated the subtlety of this +compliment. Not so Mr. Rodney. + +"Sports? Black sheep? Upon my soul, sir, I don't understand you," he +mumbled. Mr. Rodney, although he hailed from Seattle, had never known +anything but a clean and unrumpled conscience. + +Freddie clapped him jovially on the shoulder. "It's all right, Mr. +Rodney. I'll take your word for it. But if we are black sheep we shan't +be blackguards. We'll stand by the ship. What's to be done? Bail 'em +out?" + +It is of record that the three gentlemen were closeted with the officers +and managers for an hour or more, but it is not clear that they +transacted anything that could seriously affect the situation. + +Mrs. Medcroft, despite Mrs. Odell-Carney's friendly offices, refused +point blank to discuss the situation. She did not dare to do or say +anything as yet. Her husband had not telegraphed the word releasing her +from the sorry compact. She loyally decided to stand by the agreement, +no matter what the cost, until she received word from London that he had +triumphed or failed in his brave fight against the "bloodsuckers." + +"I will explain to-morrow, dear Mrs. Odell-Carney," she pleaded. "Don't +press me now. Everything shall be all right. Oh, how I wish Constance +were here! She understands. But she's off listening to silly love talk +and doesn't even care what happens to me. Burton, will you be good +enough to spank Tootles if she doesn't stop that screaming?" + +By nine o'clock that night every one was discussing the significant +disappearance of Constance Fowler and the fraudulent husband of Mrs. +Medcroft. Just as Mr. Odell-Carney was preparing to announce to the +unfortunate wife that the couple had eloped in the most cowardly +fashion, Miss Fowler herself appeared on the scene, dishevelled, +mud-spattered, and hot, but with a look of firm determination in her +face. She strode defiantly through the main hall, ignoring the curious +gaze of the loungers, whisking the skirt of her habit with disdainful +abandon as she passed on to the lift. A few moments later she burst in +upon her sister, a very angry young person indeed. The Odell-Carneys +were down the hall discussing her strange defection; it was with no +little relief that they saw her enter the room. + +"Are we alone?" demanded Miss Fowler, not giving Edith time to proclaim +her joy at seeing her. "Well, I've arranged a way to get him out," she +went on, her lips set. + +"Out?" murmured Mrs. Medcroft. + +"Of course. We can't let him stay in there all night, Edith. How much +money have you? Hurry up, please! Don't stare!" + +"In where? Who's in where?" + +"He's in gaol!" with supreme scorn. "Haven't you heard?" + +Mrs. Medcroft began to cry. "Mr. Brock in gaol? Good heavens, what shall +I do? I--I was depending on him so much. He ought to be here at this +very instant. What has he been doing?" + +"Edith Medcroft, stop sniffling, and don't think of yourself for a +while. It will do you a great deal of good. Where's your money?" + +Ruthlessly she began to rummage Edith's treasure trunk. The other came +to her assistance after a dazed interval. The family purse came to +light. + +"I have a little over four thousand crowns," she murmured helplessly. + +"Give it me, quick. There's no time to waste. I have about five +thousand. It's all in notes, thank heaven. It isn't quite enough, but +I'll try to make it do. Don't stop me, Edith. I haven't time to answer +questions. He's in gaol, didn't you hear me say? And I love him!" + +"But the--the money? Is it to bail him out with?" + +"Bail? No, my dear, it's to _buy_ him out with. 'Sh! Is there any one in +that room? Well, then, I'll tell you something." The heads of the two +sisters were quite close together. "He's in a cell at the--the +prison-hof, or whatever you call it in German. It's gaol in English. I +have arranged to bribe one of the gaolers--his guard. He will let him +escape for ten thousand crowns--we must do it, Edith! Then Mr. Brock +will ride over the Brenner Pass and catch a train somewhere, before his +escape is discovered. I expect to meet him in Paris day after to-morrow. +Have you heard from Roxbury?" + +"No!" wailed Roxbury's wife. + +"He's a brute!" stormed Miss Fowler. + +"Constance!" flared Mrs. Medcroft, aghast at this sign of lese-majesty. + +"Don't tell anybody," called Constance, as she banged the door behind +her. + +Soon after midnight a closely veiled lady drove up to a street corner +adjacent to the city prison, a dolorous-looking building which loomed up +still and menacing just ahead. She alighted and, dismissing the cab, +strode off quickly into the side street. At a distant corner, in front +of a crowded eating-house, two spirited horses, saddled and in charge of +a grumbling stable-boy, champed noisily at their bits. The young woman +exchanged a few rapid sentences with the boy, and then returned in the +direction from which she came. A man stepped out of a doorway as she +neared the corner, accosting her with a stealthy deference that +proclaimed him to be anything but an unwelcome marauder. + +The conversation which passed between the slender, nervous young woman +and this burly individual was carried on in very cautious tones, +accompanied by many quick and furtive glances in all directions, as if +both were in fear of observers. At last, after eager pleading on one +side and stolid expostulation on the other, a small package passed from +the hand of the young woman into the huge paw of the man. The latter +gave her a quick, cautious salute and hurried back toward the gaol. + +The veiled young woman, very nervous and strangely agitated, made her +way back to the spot where the horses were standing. Making her way +through the cluster of small tables which lined the inner side of the +sidewalk, she found one unoccupied at the extreme end, a position which +commanded a view of the street down which she had just come. + +Half an hour passed. Midnight revellers at the surrounding tables began +to take notice of this tall, elegant, nervous young woman with the +veiled face. It was plain to all of them that she was expecting someone; +naturally it would be a man, therefore a lover. Her nervousness grew as +the minutes lengthened into the hour. A clock in a tower near by struck +one. She was now staring with wide, eager eyes down the street, alertly +watching the approach of anyone who came from that direction. Twice she +half arose and started forward with a quick sigh of relief, only to sink +back again dejectedly upon discovering that she had been mistaken in the +identity of a newcomer. + +Half-past one, then two o'clock. The merry-makers were thinning out; she +was quite alone at her end of the place. By this time a close observer +might have noticed that she was trembling violently; there was an air of +abject fear and despair in her manner. + +Why did he not come? What had happened? Had the plot failed? Was he even +now lying wounded unto death as the result of his effort to escape +captivity? A hundred horrid thoughts raced through her throbbing, +overwrought brain. He should have been with her two hours ago--he should +now be far on his way to freedom. Alas, something appalling had +happened, she was sure of it. + +At last there hove in sight, coming from the direction in which lay the +prison, a group of three men. It was a jaunty party, evidently under the +influence of many libations. They came with arms linked, with dignified +but unsteady gait, their hats well back on their heads. In the middle +was a very tall man, flanked on one side by a very short fat one, on the +other by a slender youth who wanted to sing. + +She recognised them and would have drawn back to a less exposed spot, +but the slender youth saw her before she could do so. He shouted to his +companions as if they were two blocks away. + +"There she is! Hooray!" + +They bore down upon her. The next instant they were solemnly shaking +hands with her, much to her dismay. + +"Cons'ance, we've been lookin' f-fer you ever'-where in town. W-where on +earth 've you been?" asked Mr. Rodney thickly, with a laudable attempt +at severity. + +"Ever sinch 'leven o'clock, Conshance," supplemented Freddie, trying to +frown. + +"My dear Miss F-Fowler," began Odell-Carney in, his most suave manner, +"it is after two o'clock. In--in the morning at that. You--you shouldn't +be sittin' here all 'lone thish--this hour in the morning. Please come +home with us. Your mother hash--has ask us to fetch you--I mean your +sister. Beg pardon." + +"I--I cannot go, gentlemen," she stammered. "Please don't insist--please +don't ask why. I cannot go--" + +"I shay, Conshance, by Jove, the joke's on you," exclaimed Freddie. "I +know who 't ish you're waitin' f-for. Well, he can't come. He's locked +in." + +"Freddie, you are drunk!" in deep scorn. + +"I know it," he admitted cheerfully. "We've looked ever'where for you. +We're your frien's. He said it was at 'n eatin'-house. We've been ever' +eatin'-house in Inchbrook. Was here first of all. Leave it to Rodney. +Wassen we, Rodney? You bet we was. You wassen here at 'leven o'clock. +Come on home, Conshance. 'S all right. He's safe. He can't come." + +"But he will come, unless something terrible has happened to him," she +almost sobbed in her desperation. "Cousin Alfred, _won't_ you go to the +gaol and see what has happened?" + +Mr. Rodney took off his hat gallantly and would have gone to do her +bidding had not Mr. Odell-Carney laid a restraining grip upon his +shoulder. + +"Let me explain, Miss F-Fowler. You shee--see, he told us you'd be here, +but, hang it all, you wassen here wh-when we came. Never give up, says I +to my frien's. We'll search till doomshday. I knew we'd find you if we +kep' on searching. Thash jus' wot I said to Roddy, didn' I, Roddy? We +mush have overlokked yo' when we were here at 'leven." + +"I was not here at eleven," she cried breathlessly. + +"Thash jus' what I tol' 'em," insisted Freddie triumphantly. "I saysh: +'What's use lookin' here? She--she isn't on top of any these tables,' +an' I--I knew you wassen unner 'em. You ain't--" + +"Permit me," interrupted Odell-Carney with grave dignity. "Your friend, +Miss Fowler, is not in gaol. He is out--" + +"Not in gaol!" she almost shrieked. "I knew it! I knew it could not go +wrong. But where is he?" + +"He's out on bail. We bailed him out at half-past ten--Wot!" She had +leaped to her feet with a short scream and was clutching his arm +frantically. + +"On bail? At half-past ten? Good heavens, then--then--oh, are you sure?" + +"Poshtive, abs'lutely." + +"Then what has become of my nine thousand crowns?" + +"You c'n search me, Conshance," murmured Freddie. + +"I don' know what you 're talkin' 'bout, Cons'ance," said Mr. Rodney in +a very hurt tone. "We--we put up security f'r five thous'n dollars, +that's what we did. This is all the thanks we getsh for it. Ungrachful!" + +Constance had been thinking very hard, paying no heed to his maudlin +defence. It rapidly was dawning upon her that these men had secured her +lover's release on bail at half-past ten o'clock, an hour and a half +before she had given her bribe of nine thousand crowns to the gaoler. +That being the case, it was becoming clear to her that the wretch +deliberately had taken the money, knowing that Brock was not in the +prison, and with the plain design to rob her of the amount. It was a +transaction in which he could be perfectly secure; bribing of public +officials is a solemn offence in Austria and Germany. She could have no +recourse, could make no complaint. Her money was gone! + +"Where is Mr. Br--Mr. Medcroft?" she demanded, her voice full of +anxiety. If he were out of gaol, why had he failed to come to the +meeting-place? + +"He's locked in," persisted Freddie. + +"That's just it, Miss Fowler," explained Odell-Carney glibly. "You +shee--see, it was this way: we got him out on bail on condition he'd +'pear to-morrow morning 'fore the magistrate. Affer we'd got him out, he +insisted on coming 'round here so's he could run away with you. That +wassen a gennelmanly thing to do, affer we'd put up our money. We +coul'n' afford have him runnin' away with you. So we had him locked in a +room on top floor of the hotel, where he can't get out 'n' leave us to +hold the bag, don't you see. He almos' cried an' said you'd be waitin' +at the church or--or something like that bally song, don't you know, an' +as a lash reshort, to keep him quiet like a good ferrer--feller, we said +we'd come an' get you an' 'splain everything saffis--sasfac--ahem! +sassisfac'rly." + +She looked at then with burning eyes. Slow rage was coming to the +flaming point; And for this she had sat and suffered for hours in a +street restaurant! For this! Her eyes fell upon the limp horses and the +dejected stable-boy. Two hours! + +"You will release him at once!" she stormed. "Do you hear? It is +outrageous!" + +Without another word to the dazed trio, she rushed to the curb and +commanded the boy to assist her into the saddle. He did so, in stupid +amazement. Then she instructed him to mount and follow her to the Tirol +as fast as he could ride. The horses were tearing off in the darkness a +moment later. + +The three guardians stood speechless until the clatter died away in the +distance. Then Mr. Rodney pulled himself together with an effort and +groaned in abject horror. + +"By thunner, the damn girl is stealin' somebody's horshes!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND + + +The unlucky Brock, wild with rage and chagrin, had paced his temporary +prison in the top storey of the Tirol from eleven o'clock till two, +bitterly cursing the fools who were keeping him in durance more vile +than that from which they had generously released him. He realised that +it would be unwise to create a disturbance in the house by clamouring +for freedom, because, in the first place, there already had been scandal +enough, and in the second place, his distrustful bondsmen had promised +faithfully to seek out the devoted Connie and apprise her of his +release. He had no thought, of course, that in the mean time she might +be duped into paying a bribe to the guard. + +Not only was he direfully cursing the trio, but also the addlepated +Medcroft and his own addlepated self. It is to be feared that he had +harsh thoughts of all the Medcrofts, as far down as Raggles. His dream +of love and happiness had turned into a nightmare; the comedy had become +a tragic snarl of all the effects known to melodrama. Bitterly he +lamented the fact that now he could not go before the assembled critics +in the morning and proclaim to them that Constance was his wife. From +this, it readily may be judged that Brock was not familiar with all the +details of the vigorous Miss Fowler's plan. As a matter of fact, he did +not know that he was expected to fly the country like a fugitive. She +had known in her heart that he would never agree to a plan of that sort; +it was, therefore, necessary for her to deceive him in more ways than +one. Plainly speaking, Brock had laboured under the delusion that she +merely proposed to bribe the gaoler into letting him off for the night, +in order that by some hook or crook they could be married early in the +morning--provided her conception of the State marriage laws as they +applied to aliens was absolutely correct. (It was not correct, it may be +well to state, although that has nothing to do with the case at this +moment.) If he had but known that she contemplated paying ten thousand +crowns for his surreptitious release, making herself criminally liable, +and that he was expected to catch a night train across the border, it is +only just to his manhood to say that he should have balked, even though +the act were to cost him years of prison servitude--which, of course, +was unlikely in the face of the explanation that would be made in proper +time by the real Medcroft. It thus may be seen that Brock not only had +been vilely imprisoned twice in the same night, but that he was very +much in the dark, notwithstanding his attempt to make light of the +situation. + +It occurred to him, at two o'clock, that pacing the floor in the agony +of suspense was a very useless occupation. He would go to bed. Morning +would bring relief and surcease to his troubled mind. Constance was +doubtless sound asleep in her room. Everything would have been explained +to her long before this hour; she would understand. So, with the return +of his old sophistry, he undressed and crawled into the strange bed. +Somehow he did not like it as well as the cot in the balcony below. + +Just as he was dropping off into the long-delayed slumber, he heard a +light tapping at his door. He sat up in bed like a flash, thoroughly +wide awake. The rapping was repeated. He called out in cautious tones, +asking who was there, at the same time slipping from bed to fumble in +the darkness for his clothes. + +"'Sh!" came from the hallway. He rushed over and put his ear to the +door. "It is I. Are you awake? I can't stay here. It's wrong. Listen: +here is a note--under the door. Good night, darling! I'm heartbroken." + +"Thank God, it's you!" he cried softly. "How I love you, Constance!" + +"'Sh! Edith is with me! Oh, I wish it were morning and I could see you. +I have so much to say." + +Another querulous voice broke in: "For heaven's sake, Connie, don't +stand here any longer. Our reputations are bad enough as it is. Good +night--Roxbury!" He distinctly heard the heartless Edith giggle. Then +came the soft, quick swish of garments and the nocturnal visitors were +gone. He picked up the envelope and, waiting until they were safely down +the hall, turned on the light. + +"Dearest," he read, "it was not my fault and I know it was not yours. +But, oh, you don't know how I suffered all through those hours of +waiting at the café. They did not find me until after two. They were +drunk. They tried to explain. What do you think the authorities will do +to me if they find that I gave that horrid man bribe money? Really, I'm +terribly nervous. But he won't dare say anything, will he? He is as +guilty as I, for he took it. He took it knowing that you were free at +the time. But we will talk it over to-morrow. I've just got back to the +hotel. I wouldn't go to bed until Edith brought me up to hear your dear +voice. I am so glad you are not dead. It is impossible to release you +to-night. Those wretches have the key. How I loathe them! Edith says the +hotel is wild with gossip about _everything_ and _everybody_. It's just +awful. Be of good heart, my beloved. I will be your faithful slave until +death. With love and adoration and kisses. Your own Constance. + +"P.S. Roxbury has not made a sign, Edith is frantic." + +Several floors below the relieved and ecstatic Brock, Mrs. Medcroft was +soon urging her sister to go to bed and let the story go until daylight. +She persisted in telling all that she had done and all that she had +endured. + +"We must never let him know that we actually gave that wretch nearly +twenty-five hundred dollars, Edith. He would never forgive us. I admit +that I was a fool and a ninny, so don't tell me I am. I can see by the +way you are looking that you're just crazy to. It's all Roxbury's fault, +anyway. Why should he get up and make a speech in London without letting +us know? Just see how it has placed us! I think Mr. Brock is an angel to +do what he has done for you and Roxbury. Yes, my dear, you will have to +confess that Roxbury is a brute--a perfect brute. I'm sure, if you have +a spark of fairness in you, you must hate him. No, no! Don't say +anything, Edith. You _know_ I'm right." + +"I'm not going to say anything," declared Edith angrily. "I'm going to +bed." + +"Edith, if you don't mind, dear, I think I'll sleep with you." After a +moment of deep reflection she added plaintively: "There is so much that +I just have to tell you, deary. It--it won't keep till daylight." + +Bright and early in the morning, the tired, harassed night-farers were +routed from their rooms by a demand from the management of the hotel +that they appear forthwith in the private office. This order included +every member of Mr. Rodney's party, excepting the Medcroft baby. +Considerably distressed and very much concerned over the probable +outcome of the conference, the Rodney forces made their way to the +offices--not altogether in an open fashion, but by humiliatingly unusual +avenues. The Rodney family came down the back stairs. Brock was solemnly +ushered through the public office by Mr. Odell-Carney and Freddie +Ulstervelt. It is not stretching the truth to say that they were sour +and sullen, but, as may be suspected, from peculiarly different causes. +At last all were congregated in the stuffy office, very much subdued and +very much at odds with each other. Mr. Githens was there. Likewise the +gentleman from the bank and a prominent person from the department of +police. + +Miss Fowler glanced about uneasily, and was relieved to discover that +her treacherous gaoler was not there to confront her with charges. It +had occurred to her that he might, after all, have tricked her into +committing a crime against the government. + +It was quite noticeable that Mrs. Rodney and Katherine did not speak to +the Medcroft contingent--in fact, they ignored them quite completely. +Mrs. Rodney was very pale and very deeply distressed. She cast many +glances at the red-eyed and sheepish Mr. Rodney,--glances that meant +much to the further torture of his soul. + +"I am sorry to inform you, Herr Rodney, that the rooms which you now +occupy, and those of your friends, are no longer at your disposal. They +have been engaged for from sometime this day by a--" + +"Look here," interrupted Odell-Carney bluntly, "if you mean that we are +not wanted here any longer, why not say so? Don't lie about it. We are +leaving to-day, in any event, so wot's the odds? Now, come down to +facts: why are we summoned here like a crowd of school children?" + +The manager looked at Mr. Githens and then at the police officer. + +"Ahem! It seems that Herr Grabetz of the police department desires to +ask some questions of your party in my presence. You will understand, +sir, that the hotel has been imposed upon by--by these people. It seems, +also, that the bank insists upon having some light thrown upon the +methods by which Mrs. Medcroft secures money on her letter of credit." + +"You are welcome to all that, sir," declared Mr. Odell-Carney, "but I am +interested to know just why my wife and I are brought into this affair." + +"Because you are guests of Mr. Rodney, sir, I regret to state. We have +no complaint against you, sir. _You_ are well known here. The--the +others are not. They are--what you call it? Humbugs! It may be that they +also have swindled you!" + +Mr. Rodney, at this point, leaped to his feet and rushed over to shake +his fist in the face of the insulting hotel man. But Edith Medcroft +arose suddenly, like a tragedy queen, and spoke, her clear, determined +voice stilling the turbulent spirit of her outraged host. + +"One moment, please," she said. "This all can be satisfactorily +explained. No wrong has been done. It will all be cleared up in time. +We--" + +"In time?" interrupted the manager. "Madam, _this_ is the time. You are +here with a man who is not your husband, yet who purports to be such." + +"It may throw some light on the matter if I announce that the gentleman +in question is _my_ affianced husband." It was Miss Fowler who spoke. +Every one stared at her as she moved over to Brock's side. + +"If you will look in the office, you will find a telegram there for me," +went on Mrs. Medcroft, pale but absolutely confident. The manager called +out through the door. Absolute silence reigned while the reply was +awaited. + +"No telegram for Mrs. Medcroft last night or to-day," announced the +manager sternly, as he glanced through the slim bunch of blue envelopes. +"There are four here for a Mr. Brock, who has not yet arrived in--" + +"Brock!" shouted three voices in one. + +A tall man, forgetting his English and his eyeglass, sprang forward and +grabbed the telegrams from the manager's hand. "Holy mackerel! Give 'em +here!" he shouted. Two eager, beautiful young women were hanging to his +elbows as he ruthlessly broke one of the seals. "The chump! It's from +Rox! They're all from Rox--and they are two or three days old!" + +Just then the unexpected happened. + +The office door opened with a bang, and the real Roxbury Medcroft +stepped into the room. He halted just inside the door and looked about +in momentary bewilderment. + +"This is a private--" began the manager, stepping forward. A flying +figure sped past him; a delighted little shriek rang in his ears. He saw +Edith Medcroft hurl herself into the arms of her own husband. At the +same moment Brock bounded across the room and pounced eagerly upon the +welcome intruder. + +"Good Gawd!" gasped Odell-Carney. "Wot's all this?" His wife suddenly +began fanning herself, searching for breath. + +"_This_ is my husband!" cried Edith, triumph in her voice, tears in her +eyes, as she faced the astonished observers. "Now, what have you to +say?" + +It was a perfectly natural but not an especially obvious question. The +little manager threw up his hands and cried out in a sad mixture of +French, English and Helvetian,-- + +"What? Another husband? Madam, how many more do you propose to inflict +us with? We cannot allow it! The management will not permit you to +change husbands the instant a new guest arrives in the house. It is not +to be heard of--no, no!" + +"Are you afraid that the books won't balance?" asked Brock with a joyous +grin, a great load off his heart. "Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to +introduce Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, my friend and fellow conspirator. He is +the husband of this lady, not I. I am to be the husband of _this_ lady, +thank God." + +There was a moment of absolute silence--it may have been stupor. The two +audiences faced each other with emotions widely at variance. It was Mrs. +Rodney who spoke first. + +"Is this true, Edith?" she quavered. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Edith, her eyes dancing. + +"Then, what are you doing here with a man who isn't your husband?" +demanded Mrs. Rodney, suddenly aflame. + +"I can explain everything to you later on, Mrs. Rodney," interposed Mrs. +Odell-Carney calmly. She had divined at least a portion of the truth, +and she was clever enough to put herself on the right side. Edith cast +an involuntary look of surprise at the Englishwoman. "I have known +everything from the first. Mrs. Medcroft and I are closer friends than +you may have thought." She gave Edith a meaning look, and a moment later +was whispering to her in a private corner of the private office: "My +dear, I don't know what it means, but you must tell me everything as +soon as possible. I am your friend. Whatever it all is, it's ripping!" + +There was a great deal of pow-wowing and chatter, charges and +refutations, excuses and explanations. Mr. Medcroft finally waved every +one aside in the most _dégagé_ manner imaginable. + +"Don't crowd me! Hang it all, I'm not a curiosity. There isn't anything +to go crazy about. My friend, Mr. Brock, has just done me a trifling +favour. That's all. The whole story will be in the London papers this +morning. Buy 'em. I'm going up to my wife's room to see my baby. I'll +come down and explain everything when I've had a bit of a breathing +spell. It's annoying to have had this fuss about a simple little matter +of generosity on the part of my friend, who, I've no doubt, has been a +most exemplary husband. I'll see to it, by Gad, that he receives the +proper apologies. And, for that matter, my wife may have something to +say about the outrage that has been perpetrated." + +He took it all very much as if the world owed him an explanation and not +_vice versa_. As he was stalking from the room, Brock bethought himself +to ask,-- + +"When did you arrive, old man?" + +"Last night on the 12.10. I registered as Smith. It was so late that I +decided not to disturb Edith. They said in the office that you'd gone to +bed, Brock. Now that I recall it, they said it in a very odd way too. +In fact, one of the clerks asked if I had it in for you too." + +"You were here all night?" murmured Constance in plaintive misery. + +"Well, not precisely all night, Connie. Half of it," replied Roxbury. +"Brock, you ass, I telegraphed you I was coming and asked you to meet me +at the station. I telegraphed twice from London and--" + +"Don't call me an ass," grated Brock. "Why didn't you send 'em to me as +Medcroft? I haven't been Brock until this very morning." + +"'Pon my soul, Brock, it was rather stupid of me," he confessed +sheepishly. "But, you see," with an inspired smile, "one of 'em was to +congratulate you on winning Connie. By Jove, you know, I _couldn't_ very +well address that one to myself." + +"But--but he hadn't won me," stammered Constance Fowler. + +"Edith," said Roxbury, deep reproach in his voice, "you wrote me that a +week ago!" Edith merely squeezed his arm. + +Odell-Carney came forward and extended his hand. "Permit me to introduce +myself, sir. I am George Odell-Carney. It has given me great pleasure to +serve you without knowing you. In my catalogue of personalities you have +posed intermittently as a demmed bounder, a deceived husband, a betrayed +lover, a successful lover, and a lot of other things I can't just now +recall. Acting on the presumption that you might have been a friend in +distress, I worked hard in your interest. Now I discover, to my +gratification, you are a perfect stranger whom I am proud to meet. +Permit me to offer my warmest felicitations and to assure you that Mr. +Brock will make a splendid brother-in-law." He hesitated a moment and +then went on: "So _you_ are the chap that really put in those c'nfended +memorial windows. 'Pon me word, sir, they are the rottenest--" + +"Carney!" came the sharp reminder from his wife. + +"I should have said," revised Mr. Odell-Carney, "you are the chap who +played the deuce with the building grafters in the County Council. +Remarkable!" + +"Yes," said Roxbury, striving to grasp something of the situation as it +appeared to the other. "We beat them. The bill is lost. It will never go +to the Council. The sub-committee will not recommend it. Thanks, Brock, +old man; you have saved London a good many millions, I daresay. It was +you who did it, after all." + +Before noon the hotel was agog with the full details of the remarkable +story. Cabled despatches in the newspapers gave the gist of the clever +trick played by the Medcrofts, and the whole of England was to ring with +the stories of Mrs. Medcroft's pluck and devotion. Everybody was buying +the papers and staring with admiration at Mrs. Medcroft. + +The management of the Tirol implored the Medcrofts to remain--forever! +The bank and the police were profuse in apologies and explanations, and +Mr. Githens departed by the first train. + +Freddie Ulstervelt, killing two birds with one stone, arranged a +splendid dinner for that night in honour of the prodigal husband of +Edith and also in open compliment to the vivacious Mademoiselle Le Brun. + +Later in the day, it occurred to him that he might just as well kill +three birds as two, so he planned to announce the betrothal of Miss +Fowler and Mr. Brock, the wedding to take place a fortnight hence in +Mayfair. The Rodneys were invited to "stop over" for the spread. It is +left for the reader to supply the answer to this simple question,-- + +Did they stop over? + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH*** + + +******* This file should be named 16719-8.txt or 16719-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Husbands of Edith</p> +<p>Author: George Barr McCutcheon</p> +<p>Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16719]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Louise Pryor, Janet Blenkinship,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p><a name="Page_-9" id="Page_-9"></a></p> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="COVER" title="COVER" /></div> +<p> </p> +<h1>THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH</h1> + +<h4>BY<br /> +GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON<br /> +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> +HARRISON FISHER<br /> +AND DECORATIONS BY<br /> +THEODORE B HAPGOOD<br /><br /><br /> +NEW YORK 1908<br /> +DODD, MEAD & COMPANY<br /><br /></h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<p><a name="Page_-8" id="Page_-8"></a></p> + + +<h3>OTHER BOOKS BY McCUTCHEON</h3> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Other McCutcheon Books"> +<tr><td align='left'>NEDRA</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DAY OF THE DOG</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE PURPLE PARASOL</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE SHERRODS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>GRAUSTARK</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CASTLE CRANEYCROW</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>BREWSTER'S MILLIONS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>JANE CABLE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>COWARDICE COURT</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE FLYERS</td></tr> +</table></div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p><a name="Page_-5" id="Page_-5"></a></p> + + +<p><a name="Page_-4" id="Page_-4"></a></p> + + +<p class='center'>THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/img-004.jpg"><img src="images/img-004-tb.jpg" alt="Cover " title="Cover" /></a></div> +<h4>"'Don't you think Connie is a perfect dear?'" (page <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>)</h4> +<p><a name="Page_-3" id="Page_-3"></a><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-1.jpg" width="60%" alt="BORDER MOTIF" title="BORDER MOTIF" /></div> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="TABLE OF CONTENTS"> +<tr><td align='left'>I.—HUSBANDS AND WIFE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'><b>1</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>II.—THE SISTER IN LAW.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_17'><b>17</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>III.—THE DISTANT COUSINS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_38'><b>38</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>IV.—THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_54'><b>54</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>V.—THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_74'><b>74</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VI.—OTHER RELATIONS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_92'><b>92</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VII.—THE THREE GUARDIANS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_109'><b>109</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VIII.—THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND.</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_123'><b>123</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-4.jpg" width="60%" alt="BORDER MOTIF" title="BORDER MOTIF" /></div> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS"> +<tr><td align='left'>"'Don't you think Connie is a perfect dear?'"</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_-4'>Frontis</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Brock</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_24'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Katherine</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"She began to detect a decided falling off in his ardour"</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"'I <i>do</i> love you,' she said simply".</td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_106'>106</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><br /><br /><br /></p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_0" id="Page_0"></a></p><p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img-001.jpg" alt="Title motif" title="Title motif" /></div> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-1.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<h4>HUSBANDS AND WIFE.</h4> + + +<p>Brock was breakfasting out-of-doors in the cheerful little garden of the +Hôtel Chatham. The sun streamed warmly upon the concrete floor of the +court just beyond the row of palms and oleanders that fringed the rail +against which his <i>Herald</i> rested, that he might read as he ran, so to +speak. He was the only person having <i>déjeuner</i> on the "terrace," as he +named it to the obsequious waiter who always attended him. Charles was +the magnet that drew Brock to the Chatham (that excellent French hotel +with the excellent English name). It is beside the question to remark +that one is obliged to reverse the English when directing a <i>cocher</i> to +the Chatham. The Paris cabman looks blank and more than usually +unintelligent when directed to drive to the Chatham, but his face +radiates with joy when his fare is inspired to substitute Sha-<i>t'am</i>, +with distinct emphasis on the final syllable. Then he cracks his whip +and lashes his sorry nag, with passive appreciation of his own +astuteness, all the way to the Rue Daunou. The street is so short that +he almost invariably <a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a>takes one to <i>it</i> instead of to the hotel itself. +But one must say Sha-<i>t'am</i>!</p> + +<p>Charles was standing, alert but pensive, quite near at hand, ready to +replenish the bowl with honey (Brock was especially fond of it), but +with his eyes cocked inquiringly, even eagerly, in the direction of an +upstairs window across the court, beyond which a thoughtless guest of +the establishment was making her toilette in blissful ignorance of the +fact that the flimsy curtains were not tightly drawn. Brock had gone to +the Chatham for years just because Charles was a fixture there. Charles +spoke the most execrably picturesque English, served with a +punctiliousness that savoured almost of the overbearing, and boasted +that he had acquired the art of making American cocktails in the Waldorf +during a five weeks' residence in the United States.</p> + +<p>It was a lazy morning. Brock was happy. He was even interested when a +porter came forth and unravelled a long roll of garden hose, with which +he abruptly began to splash water upon the concrete surface of the court +without regard for distance or direction. Moreover, he proceeded to +water the palms at Brock's elbow, operating from a spot no less than +twenty feet away. He likewise was casting inquiring glances at divers +windows—few if any at the plants—until the faithful Charles restored +him to earth by means of certain subdued injunctions and less moderate +gesticulations, from which it could be readily gathered that "M'sieur +was eating, not bathing." Whereupon the utterly uncrushed porter +splashed water at right angles, much to Brock's relief, while all his +fellow porters, free or engaged, took up the quarrel with rare disregard +for cause or justice. A <i>femme de chambre</i>, from a convenient window, +<a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>joined in the hubbub without in the least knowing what it was all +about. Monsieur's comfort must be preserved: that seemed to be the issue +in which, at once, all were united. "M'sieur will pardon the boy," +apologised Charles in deepest humility, taking much for granted. "It +will be very warm to-day. Your <i>serviette</i>, M'sieur—it is damp. +Pardon!" He flew away and back with another napkin. "Of course, M'sieur, +the Chatham is not the Waldorf," he announced deprecatingly. +"<i>Parbleu</i>," beating himself on the forehead, "I forgot! M'sieur does +not like the Waldorf. <i>Eh, bien</i>, Paris is not New York, no." Having +sufficiently humbled Paris, he withdrew into the background, rubbing his +hands as if he were cleansing them of something unsightly. Brock spread +one of the buttered biscuits with honey and inwardly admitted that Paris +was <i>not</i> New York.</p> + +<p>He was a good-looking chap of thirty or thereabouts, an American to the +core,—bright-eyed, keen-witted, smooth-faced, virile. From boyhood's +earliest days he had spent a portion of his summers in Europe. Two or +three years of his life had been employed in the Beaux Arts,—fruitful +years, for Brock had not wasted his opportunities. He had gone in for +architecture and building. To-day he stood high among the younger men in +New York,—prosperous, successful, and a menace to the old cry that a +son of the rich cannot thrive in his father's domain. Nowadays he came +to the Old World for his breathing spells. He was able to combine +dawdling and development without sacrificing one for the other, wherein +lies the proof that his vacations were not akin to those taken by most +of us.</p> + +<p>The fortnight in Paris was to be followed by a week in St. Petersburg +and a brief tour of Sweden and Norway. His stay in the gay city was +drawing to a close. That <a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a>very morning he expected to book for St. +Petersburg, leaving in three days.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his glance fell upon a name in the society column before him, +"Roxbury Medcroft." His face lighted up with genuine pleasure. An old +friend, a boon companion in bygone days, was this same Medcroft,—a +broad-minded, broad-gauged young Englishman who had profited by a stay +of some years in the States. They had studied together in Paris and they +had toiled together in New York. This is what he read: "Mr. and Mrs. +Roxbury Medcroft, of London, are stopping at the Ritz, <i>en route</i> to +Vienna. Mr. Medcroft will attend the meeting of Austrian Architects, to +be held there next week, and, with his wife, will afterwards spend a +fortnight in the German Alps, the guests of the Alfred Rodneys, of +Seattle."</p> + +<p>"Dear old Rox, I must look him up at once," mused Brock. "The Rodneys of +Seattle? Never heard of 'em." He looked at his watch, signed his check, +deposited the usual franc, acknowledged Charles's well-practised smile +of thanks, and pushed back his chair, his gaze travelling involuntarily +toward the portals of the American bar across the court, just beyond the +<i>concierge's</i> quarters. Simultaneously a tall figure emerged from the +bar, casting eager glances in all directions,—a tall figure in a +checked suit, bowler hat, white reindeer gloves, high collar, and grey +spats. Brock came to his feet quickly. The monocle dropped from the +other's eye, and his long legs carried him eagerly toward the American.</p> + +<p>"Medcroft! Bless your heart! I was just on the point of looking you up +at the Ritz. It's good to see you," Brock cried as they clasped hands.</p> + +<p>"Of all the men and of all the times, Brock, you are <a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a>the most +opportune," exclaimed the other. "I saw that you were here and bolted my +breakfast to catch you. These beastly telephones never work. Oh, I say, +old man, have you finished yours?"</p> + +<p>"Quite—but luckily I didn't have to bolt it. You're off for Vienna, I +see. Sit down, Rox. Won't you have another egg and a cup of coffee? Do!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks and no to everything you suggest. Wot you doing for the next +half-hour or so? I'm in a deuce of a dilemma and you've got to help me +out of it." The Englishman looked at his watch and fumbled it nervously +as he replaced it in his upper coat pocket. "That's a good fellow, +Brock. You <i>will</i> be the ever present help in time of trouble, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"My letter of credit is at your disposal, old man," said Brock promptly. +He meant it. It readily may be seen from this that their friendship is +no small item to be considered in the development of this tale.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, that's the very thing I'm eager to thrust upon you—my +letter of credit," exclaimed the other.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" demanded Brock.</p> + +<p>"I say, Brock, can't we go up to your rooms? Dead secret, you know. +Really, old chap, I mean it. No one must get a breath of it. That's why +I'm whispering. I'm not a lunatic, so don't stare like that. I'd do as +much for you if the conditions were reversed."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you would, Rox, but what the devil is it you want me to do?"</p> + +<p>"Do I appear to be agitated?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say so."</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>am</i>. You know how I loathe asking a favour <a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>of anyone. +Besides, it's rather an extraordinary one I'm going to ask of you. Came +to me in a flash this morning when I saw your name in the paper. Sort of +inspiration, 'pon my word. I think Edith sees it the same as I, although +I haven't had time to go into it thoroughly with her. She's ripping, you +know; pluck to the very core."</p> + +<p>Brock's face expressed bewilderment and perplexity.</p> + +<p>"Won't you have another drink, old man?" he asked gently.</p> + +<p>"Another? Hang it all, I haven't had one in a week. Come along. I must +talk it all over with you before I introduce you to her. You must be +prepared."</p> + +<p>"Introduce me to whom?" demanded Brock, pricking up his ears. He was +following Medcroft to the elevator.</p> + +<p>"To my wife—Edith," said Medcroft, annoyed by the other's obtuseness.</p> + +<p>"Does it require preparation for an ordeal so charming?" laughed Brock. +He was recalling the fact that Medcroft had married a beautiful +Philadelphia girl some years ago in London, a young lady whom he had +never seen, so thoroughly expatriated had she become in consequence of +almost a lifetime residence in England. He remembered now that she was +rich and that he had sent her a ridiculously expensive present and a +congratulatory cablegram at the time of the wedding. Also, it occurred +to him that the Medcrofts had asked him to visit them at their +shooting-box for several seasons in succession, and that their town +house was always open to him. While he had not ignored the invitations, +he had never responded in person. He began to experience twinges of +remorse: Medcroft was such a good fellow!</p> + +<p><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>The Londoner did not respond to the innocuous query. He merely stared +in a preoccupied, determined manner at the succeeding <i>étages</i> as they +slipped downward. At the fourth floor they disembarked, and Brock led +the way to his rooms, overlooking the inner court. Once inside, with the +door closed, he turned upon the Englishman.</p> + +<p>"Now, what's up, Rox? Are you in trouble?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Are we quite alone?" Medcroft glanced significantly at the transom and +the half-closed bathroom door. With a laugh, Brock led him into the +bathroom and out, and then closed the transom.</p> + +<p>"You're darned mysterious," he said, pointing to a chair near the +window. Medcroft drew another close up and seated himself.</p> + +<p>"Brock," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward impressively, +"I want you to go to Vienna in my place." Brock stared hard. "You are a +godsend, old man. You're just in time to do me the greatest of favours. +It's utterly impossible for me to go to Vienna as I had planned, and yet +it is equally unwise for me to give up the project. You see, I've just +got to be in London and Vienna at the same time."</p> + +<p>"It will require something more than a stretch of the imagination to do +that, old man. But I'm game, and my plans are such that they can be +changed readily to oblige a friend. I shan't mind the trip in the least +and I'll be only too happy to help you out! 'Gad, I thought by your +manner that you were in some frightful difficulty. Have a cigaret."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, Brock, you're a brick," cried Medcroft, shaking the other's +hand vigorously. At the same time <a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>his face expressed considerable +uncertainty and no little doubt as to the further welfare of his as yet +partially divulged proposition.</p> + +<p>"It's easy to be a brick, my boy, if it involves no more than the +changing of a single letter in one's name. I'd like to attend the +convention, anyway," said Brock amiably.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Brock," said Medcroft lamely, "I fear you don't quite +appreciate the situation. I want you to pose as Roxbury Medcroft."</p> + +<p>"You—What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd find that a facer. That's just it: you are to go to +Vienna as Roxbury Medcroft, not as yourself. Ha, ha! Ripping, eh?"</p> + +<p>"'Pon my soul, Rox, you are not in earnest?"</p> + +<p>"Never more so."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear fellow—"</p> + +<p>"You won't do it? That's what your tone means," in despair.</p> + +<p>"It isn't that, and you know it. I've got nothing to lose. It's you that +will have to suffer. You're known all over Europe. What will be said +when the trick is discovered? 'Gad, man!"</p> + +<p>"Then you will go?" with beaming eyes. "I knew it would appeal to you, +as an American."</p> + +<p>"What does it all mean?"</p> + +<p>"It's all very simple, if one looks at it from the right angle, Brock. +Up to last night, I was blissfully committed to the most delightful of +outings, so to speak. At ten o'clock everything was changed. Mrs. +Medcroft and I sat up all night discussing the situation with the +messenger—my solicitor, by the way. The Vienna trip is out of <a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>the +question, so far as I am concerned. It is of vital importance that I +should return to London to-night, but is even more vitally important +that the world should say that I am in Vienna. See what I mean?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm hanged if I do."</p> + +<p>"What I have just heard from London makes me shudder to think of the +consequences if I go on east to-night. I may as well tell you that there +is a plot on foot to perpetrate a gigantic fraud against the people. The +County Council is to be hoodwinked out and out into moving forward +certain building projects, involving millions of the people's money. Our +firm has opposed a certain band of grafters, and when I left England it +was pretty well settled that we had blocked their game. They have +learned of my proposed absence and intend to steal a march on us while I +am away. Without assuming too much credit to myself, I may say that I, +your old friend, Roxbury, I am the one man who has proved the real thorn +in the sides of these scoundrels. With me out of the way, they feel that +they can secure the adoption of all these infamous measures. My partners +and the leaders on our side have sent for me to return secretly. They +won't bring the matter to issue if they find that I've returned; it +would be suicidal. Therefore it is necessary that we steal a march on +'em. I know the inside workings of the scheme. If I can steal back and +keep under cover as an advisory chief, so to speak, we can well afford +to let 'em rush the matter through, for then we can spring the coup and +defeat them for good and all. But, don't you see, old man, unless they +<i>know</i> that I've gone to Vienna they won't undertake the thing. That's +why I'm asking you to go on to Vienna and pose as Roxbury Medcroft +while<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a> I steal back to London and set the charge under these demmed +bloodsuckers. Really, you know, it's a terribly serious matter, Brock. +It means fortune and honour to me, as well as millions to the +rate-payers of Greater London. All you've got to do is to register at +the Bristol, get interviewed by the papers, attend one or two sessions +of the convention, which lasts three days, and then go off into the +mountains with the Rodneys,—the society reporters will do the rest."</p> + +<p>"With the Rodneys? My dear fellow, suppose that they object to the +substitution! Really, you know, it's not to be thought of."</p> + +<p>"Deuce take it, man, the Rodneys are not to know that there has been a +substitution. Perfectly simple, can't you see?"</p> + +<p>"I'm damned if I do."</p> + +<p>"What a stupid ass you are, Brock! The Rodneys have never laid eyes on +me. They know of me as Edith's husband, that's all. They are to take you +in as Medcroft, of course."</p> + +<p>At this point Brock set up an emphatic remonstrance. He began by +laughing his friend to scorn; then, as Medcroft persisted, went so far +as to take him severely to task for the proposed imposition on the +unsuspecting Rodneys, to say nothing of the trick he would play upon the +convention of architects.</p> + +<p>"I'd be recognised as an impostor," he said warmly, "and booted out of +the convention. I shudder to think of what Mr. Rodney will do to me when +he learns the truth. Why, Medcroft, you must be crazy. There will be +dozens of architects there who know you personally or by sight. You—"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>"My dear boy, if they don't see me there, they can't very well +recognise me, can they? If necessary, you can affect an illness and stay +away from the sessions altogether. Give a statement to the press from +the privacy of the sickroom—regret your inability to take part in the +discussions, and all that, you know. Hire a nurse, if necessary. You +might venture to express an opinion or two on vital topics, in my name. +I don't care a hang what you say. I only want 'em to think I'm there. No +doubt our enemies will have a spy or two hanging about to see that I am +actually off for a jaunt with the Rodneys, but they will be Viennese and +they won't know me from Adam. What's the odds, so long as Edith is there +to stand by you? If she's willing to assume that you are her husband—"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" half shouted Brock, leaping to his feet, wide-eyed. "You +don't mean to say that she is—is—is to go to Vienna with me?"</p> + +<p>"Emphatically, yes. She's also invited. Of course, she's going."</p> + +<p>"You mean that she's going just as you are going—by proxy?" murmured +Brock helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Proxy, the devil! 'Pon my soul, Brock, you're downright stupid. She +can't have a proxy. They know her. The Rodneys are in some way +connections of hers, and all that—third cousins. If she isn't there to +vouch for you, how the deuce can you expect to—"</p> + +<p>"Medcroft, you <i>are</i> crazy! No one but an insane man would submit his +wife to—Why, good Lord, man, think of the scandal! She won't have a +shred left—"</p> + +<p>"At the proper time the matter will be explained to the Rodneys,—not at +first, you know,—and I'll be in a position to step into your shoes +before the party returns to<a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a> Paris. Afterwards the whole trick will be +exposed to the world, and she'll be a heroine."</p> + +<p>"I'm absolutely paralysed!" mumbled Brock.</p> + +<p>"Brace up, old chap. I'm going to take you around to the Ritz at once to +introduce you to my wife—to your wife, I might say. She'll be waiting +for us, and, take my word for it, she's in for the game. She appreciates +its importance. Come now, Brock, it means so little to you, and it means +everything to me. You will do this for me? For us?"</p> + +<p>For ten minutes Brock protested, his argument growing weaker and weaker +as the true humour of the project developed in his mind. He came at last +to realise that Medcroft was in earnest, and that the situation was as +serious as he pictured it. The Englishman's plea was unusual, but it was +not as rattle-brained as it had seemed at the outset. Brock was +beginning to see the possibilities that the ruse contained; to say the +least, he would be running little or no risk in the event of its +miscarriage. In spite of possible unpleasant consequences, there were +the elements of a rare lark in the enterprise; he felt himself being +skilfully guided past the pitfalls and dangers.</p> + +<p>"I shall insist upon talking it over thoroughly with Mrs. Medcroft +before consenting," he said in the end. "If she's being bluffed into the +game, I'll revoke like a flash. If she's keen for the adventure, I'll +go, Rox. But I've got to see her first and talk it all over—"</p> + +<p>"'Pon my word, old chap, she's ripping, awfully good sort, even though I +say it myself. She's true blue, and she'll do anything for me. You see, +Brock," and his voice grew very tender, "she loves me. I'm sure of her. +There isn't a nobler wife in the world than mine. Nor a <a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>prettier one, +either," he concluded, with fine pride in his eyes. "You won't be +ashamed of her. You will be proud of the chance to point her out as your +wife, take my word for it." Then they set out for the Ritz.</p> + +<p>"Roxbury," said Brock soberly, when they were in the Rue de la Paix, +after walking two blocks in contemplative silence, "my peace of mind is +poised at the brink of an abyss. I have a feeling that I am about to +chuck it over."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. You'll buck up when Edith has had a fling at you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I'm to call her Edith."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, and I won't mind a 'dear' or two when it seems propitious. +It's rather customary, you know, even among the unhappily married. Of +course, I've always been opposed to kissing or caressing in public; it's +so middle-class."</p> + +<p>"And I daresay Mrs. Medcroft will object to it in private," lamented +Brock good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"I daresay," said her husband cheerfully. "She's your wife in public +only. By the way, you'll have to get used to the name of Roxbury. Don't +look around as if you expected to find me standing behind your back when +she says, 'Roxbury, dear!' I shan't be there, you know. She'll mean you. +Don't forget that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say," exclaimed Brock, halting abruptly, and staring in dismay at +the confident conspirator, "will I have to wear a suit of clothes like +that, and an eyeglass, and—and—good Lord! spats?"</p> + +<p>"By Jove, you shall wear this very suit!" cried Medcroft, inspired. +"We're of a size, and it won't fit you any better than it does me. Our +clothes never fit us in London. Clever idea of yours, Brock, to think of +it.<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a> And, here! We'll stop at this shop and pick up a glass. You can +have all day for practice with it. And, I say, Brock, don't you think +you can cultivate a—er—little more of an English style of speech? That +twang of yours won't—"</p> + +<p>"Heavens, man, I'm to be a low comedian, too," gasped Brock, as he was +fairly pushed onto the shop. Three minutes later they were on the +sidewalk, and Brock was in possession of an object he had scorned most +of all things in the world,—a monocle.</p> + +<p>Arm in arm, they sauntered into the Ritz. Medcroft retained his clasp on +his friend's elbow as they went up in the lift, after the fashion of one +who fears that his victim is contemplating flight. As they entered the +comfortable little sitting-room of the suite, a young woman rose +gracefully from the desk at which she had been writing. With perfect +composure she smiled and extended her slim hand to the American as he +crossed the room with Medcroft's jerky introduction dinging in his ears.</p> + +<p>"My old friend Brock, dear. He has consented to be your husband. You've +never met your wife, have you, old man?" A blush spread over her +exquisite face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Roxbury, how embarrassing! He hasn't even proposed to me. So glad +to meet you, Mr. Brock. I've been trying to picture what you would look +like, ever since Roxbury went out to find you. Sit here, please, near +me. Roxbury, has Mr. Brock really fallen into your terrible trap? Isn't +it the most ridiculous proceeding, Mr. Brock—"</p> + +<p>"Call him Roxbury, my dear. He's fully prepared for it. And now let's +get down to business. He insists upon talking it over with you. You +don't mind me being pres<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>ent, do you, Brock? I daresay I can help you +out a bit. I've been married four years."</p> + +<p>For an hour the trio discussed the situation from all sides and in all +its phases. When Brock arose to take his departure, he was irrevocably +committed to the enterprise; he was, moreover, completely enchanted by +the vista of harmless fun and sweet adventure that stretched before him. +He went away with his head full of the brilliant, quick-witted, loyal +young American who was entering so heartily into the plot to deceive her +own friends for the time being in order that her husband might profit in +high places.</p> + +<p>"She <i>is</i> ripping," he said to Medcroft in the hallway. All of the plans +had been made and all of them had been approved by the young wife. She +had shown wonderful perspicacity and foresight in the matter of details; +her capacity for selection and disposal was even more comprehensive than +that of the two men, both of whom were somewhat staggered by the +boldness of more than one suggestion which came from her fruitful +storehouse of romantic ideas. She had grasped the full humour of the +situation, from inception to <i>dénouement</i>, and, to all appearance, was +heart and soul deep in the venture, despising the risks because she knew +that succour was always at her elbow in the shape of her husband's loyal +support. There was no condition involved which could not be explained to +her credit; adequate compensation for the merry sacrifice was to be had +in the brief detachment from rigid English conventionality, in the +hazardous injection of quixotism into an otherwise overly healthful life +of platitudes. Society had become the sepulchre of youthful +inspirations; she welcomed the resurrection. The exquisite delicacy with +which she analysed the cost and computed the interest won for her the +<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>warmest regard of her husband's friend, fellow conspirator in a plot +which involved the subtlest test of loyalty and honour.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Medcroft simply. "You won't have reason to change your +opinion, Brock." He hesitated for a moment and then burst out, rather +plaintively: "She's an awfully good sort, demme, she is. And so are you, +Brock,—it's mighty decent of you. You're the only man in all the world +that I could or would have asked to do this for me. You are my best +friend, Brock,—you always have been." He seized the American's hand and +wrung it fervently. Their eyes met in a long look of understanding and +confidence.</p> + +<p>"I'll take good care of her," said Brock quietly.</p> + +<p>"I know you will. Good-by, then. I'll see you late this afternoon. You +leave this evening at seven-twenty by the Orient Express. I've had the +reservations booked and—and—" He hesitated, a wry smile on his lips, +"I daresay you won't mind making a pretence of looking after the luggage +a bit, will you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall take this opportunity to put myself in training against the day +when I may be travelling away with a happy bride of my own. By the way, +how long am I expected to remain in this state of matrimonial bliss? +That's no small detail, you know, even though it escaped for the +moment."</p> + +<p>"Three weeks."</p> + +<p>"Three weeks?" He almost reeled.</p> + +<p>"That's a long time in these days of speedy divorces," said Medcroft +blandly.</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-1.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<h4>THE SISTER-IN-LAW.</h4> + + +<p>The Gare de l'Est was thronged with people when Brock appeared, fully +half an hour before departing time. In no little dismay, he found +himself wondering if the whole of Paris was going away or, on the other +hand, if the rest of the continent was arriving. He felt a fool in +Medcroft's unspeakable checked suit; and the eyeglass was a much more +obstinate, untractable thing than he had even suspected it could be. The +right side of his face was in a condition of semi-paralysis due to the +muscular exactions required; he had a sickening fear that the scowl that +marked his brow was destined to form a perpetual alliance with the smirk +at the corner of his nose, forever destroying the symmetry of his face. +If one who has not the proper facial construction will but attempt the +feat of holding a monocle in place for unbroken hours, he may come to +appreciate at least one of the trials which beset poor Brock.</p> + +<p>Every one seemed to be staring at him. He heard more than one American +in the scurrying throng say to another, "English," and he felt relieved +until an Englishman or two upset his confidence by brutally alluding to +him as a "confounded American toady."</p> + +<p>It was quite train time before Mrs. Medcroft was seen <a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>hurrying in from +the carriage way, pursued by a trio of <i>facteurs</i>, laden with bags and +boxes.</p> + +<p>"Don't shake hands," she warned in a quick whisper, as they came +together. "I recognised you by the clothes."</p> + +<p>"Thank God, it wasn't my face!" he cried. "Are your trunks checked?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—this afternoon. I have nothing but the bags. You have the +tickets? Then let us get aboard. I just couldn't get here earlier," she +whispered guiltily. "We had to say good-by, you know. Poor old Roxy! How +he hated it! I sent Burton and O'Brien on ahead of me. My sister brought +them here in her carriage, and I daresay they're aboard and abed by this +time. You didn't see them? But of course you wouldn't know my maids. How +stupid of me! Don't be alarmed. They have their instructions, Roxbury. +Doesn't it sound odd to you?"</p> + +<p>Brock was icy-cold with apprehension as they walked down the line of +<i>wagon-lits</i> in the wake of the bag-bearers. Mrs. Medcroft was as +self-possessed and as <i>dégagé</i> as he was ill at ease and awkward. As +they ascended the steps of the carriage, she turned back to him and +said, with the most malicious twinkle in her eyes,—</p> + +<p>"I'm not a bit nervous."</p> + +<p>"But you've been married so much longer than I have," he responded.</p> + +<p>Then came the disposition of the bags and parcels. She calmly directed +the porters to put the overflow into the upper berth. The <i>garde</i> came +up to remonstrate in his most rapid French.</p> + +<p>"But where is M'sieur to sleep if the bags go up there?" he argued.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>Mrs. Medcroft dropped her toilet bag and turned to Brock with startled +eyes, her lips parted. He was standing in the passage, his two bags at +his feet, an aroused gleam in his eyes. A deep flush overspread her +face; an expression of utter rout succeeded the buoyancy of the moment +before.</p> + +<p>"Really," she murmured and could go no farther. The loveliest pucker +came into her face. Brock waved the <i>garde</i> aside.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he explained. "I shan't occupy the—I mean, I'll take +one of the other compartments." As the <i>garde</i> opened his lips to +protest, she drew Brock inside the compartment and closed the door. Mrs. +Medcroft was agitated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a wretched <i>contretemps</i>!" she cried in despair. "Roxy has +made a frightful mess of it, after all. He has <i>not</i> taken a compartment +for you. I'm—I'm afraid you'll have to take this one and—and let me go +in with—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" he broke in. "Nothing of the sort! I'll find a bed, never +fear. I daresay there's plenty of room on the train. You shan't sleep +with the servants. And don't lie awake blaming poor old Rox. He's +lonesome and unhappy, and he—"</p> + +<p>"But he has a place to sleep," she lamented. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Brock. +It's perfectly horrid, and I'm—I'm dreadfully afraid you won't be able +to get a berth. Roxbury tried yesterday for a lower for himself."</p> + +<p>"And he—couldn't get one?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Brock. But I'll ask the maids to give up their—"</p> + +<p>"Please, please don't worry—and please don't call me Mr. Brock. I hate +the name. Good night! Now don't <a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>think about me. I'll be all right. +You'll find me as gay as a lark in the morning."</p> + +<p>He did not give her a chance for further protest, but darted out of the +compartment. As he closed the door he had the disquieting impression +that she was sitting upon the edge of her berth, giggling hysterically.</p> + +<p>The <i>garde</i> listened to his demand for a separate compartment with the +dejection of a capable French attendant who is ever ready with joint +commiseration and obduracy. No, he was compelled to inform Monsieur the +American (to the dismay of the pseudo-Englishman) it would be impossible +to arrange for another compartment. The train was crowded to its +capacity. Many had been turned away. No, a louis would not be of avail. +The deepest grief and anguish filled his soul to see the predicament of +Monsieur, but there was no relief.</p> + +<p>Brock's miserable affectation of the English drawl soon gave way to +sharp, emphatic Americanisms. It was after eight o'clock and the train +was well under way. The street lamps were getting fewer and fewer, and +the soft, fresh air of the suburbs was rushing through the window.</p> + +<p>"But, hang it all, I <i>can't</i> sit up all night!" growled Brock in +exasperated finality.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur forgets that he has a berth. It is not the fault of the +<i>compagnie</i> that he is without a bed. Did not M'sieur book the +compartment himself? <i>Très bien!</i>"</p> + +<p>As the result of strong persuasion, the <i>garde</i> consented to make "the +grand tour" of the train de luxe in search of a berth. It goes without +saying that he was intensely mystified by Brock's incautious remark that +he would be satisfied with "an upper if he couldn't do any better." For +the life of him, Monsieur the <i>garde</i> could not compre<a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>hend the +situation. He went away, shaking his head and looking at the tickets, as +much as to say that an American is never satisfied—not even with the +best.</p> + +<p>Brock lowered a window-seat in the passage and sat down, staring blankly +and blackly out into the whizzing night. The predicament had come upon +him so suddenly that he had not until now found the opportunity to +analyse it in its entirety. The worst that could come of it, of course, +was the poor comfort of a night in a chair. He knew that it was a train +of sleeping-coaches—Ah! He suddenly remembered the luggage van! As a +last resort, he might find lodging among the trunks!</p> + +<p>And then, too, there was something irritating in the suspicion that she +had laughed as if it were a huge joke—perhaps, even now, she was +doubled up in her narrow couch, stifling the giggle that would not be +suppressed.</p> + +<p>When the <i>garde</i> came back with the lugubrious information that nothing, +positively nothing, was to be had, it is painful to record that Brock +swore in a manner which won the deepest respect of the trainman.</p> + +<p>"At four o'clock in the morning, M'sieur, an old gentleman and his wife +will get out at Strassburg, their destination. They are in this carriage +and you may take their compartment, if M'sieur will not object to +sleeping in a room just vacated by two mourners who to-day buried a +beloved son in Paris. They have kept all of the flowers in their—"</p> + +<p>"Four o'clock! Good Lord, what am I to do till then?" groaned Brock, +glaring with unmanly hatred at the door of the Medcroft compartment.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Madame may be willing to take the upper—" ventured the guard +timorously, but Brock checked him <a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>with a peremptory gesture. He +proposed, instead, the luggage van, whereupon the guard burst into a +psalm of utter dejection. It was against the rules, irrevocably.</p> + +<p>"Then I guess I'll have to sit here all night," said Brock faintly. He +was forgetting his English.</p> + +<p>"If M'sieur will not occupy his own bed, yes," said the guard, shrugging +his shoulders and washing his hands of the whole incomprehensible +affair. "M'sieur will then be up to receive the Customs officers at the +frontier. Perhaps he will give me the keys to Madame's trunks, so that +she may not be disturbed."</p> + +<p>"Ask her for 'em yourself," growled Brock, after one dazed moment of +dismay.</p> + +<p>The hours crawled slowly by. He paced the length of the wriggling +corridor a hundred times, back and forth; he sat on every window-seat in +the carriage; he nodded and dozed and groaned, and laughed at himself in +the deepest derision all through the dismal night. Daylight came at +four; he saw the sun rise for the first time in his life. He neither +enjoyed nor appreciated the novelty. Never had he witnessed anything so +mournfully depressing as the first grey tints that crept up to mock him +in his vigil; never had he seen anything so ghastly as the soft red glow +that suffused the morning sky.</p> + +<p>"I'll sleep all day if I ever get into that damned bed," he said to +himself, bitterly wistful.</p> + +<p>The Customs officers had eyed him suspiciously at the border. They +evidently had been told of his strange madness in refusing to occupy the +berth he had paid for. Their examination of his effects was more +thorough than usual. It may have entered their heads that he was +standing guard over the repose of a fair accomplice. They asked so many +<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>embarrassing and disconcerting questions that he was devoutly relieved +when they passed on, still suspicious.</p> + +<p>The train was late, and at five o'clock he was desperately combating an +impulse to leave it at Strassburg, find lodging in a hotel, and then, +refreshed, set out for London to have it out with the malevolent +Medcroft. The disembarking of the venerable mourners, however, restored +him to a degree of his peace of mind. After all, he reviewed, it would +be cowardly and base to desert a trusting wife; he pictured her as +asleep and securely confident in his stanchness. No: he would have it +out with Medcroft at some later day.</p> + +<p>He was congratulating himself on the acquisition of a bed—although it +might possess the odour of a bed of tuberoses—when all of his pleasant +calculations were upset by the appearance of a German burgher and his +family. It was then that he learned that these people had booked <i>le +compartement</i> from Strassburg to Munich.</p> + +<p>Brock resumed his window-seat and despondently awaited the call to +breakfast. He fell sound asleep with his monocle in position; nor did it +matter to him that his hat dropped through the window and went scuttling +off across the green Rhenish fields. When next he looked at his watch, +it was eight o'clock. A small boy was standing at the end of the +passage, staring wide-eyed at him. Two little girls came piling, half +dressed, from a compartment, evidently in response to the youngster's +whispered command to hurry out and see the funny man. Brock scowled +darkly, and the trio darted swiftly into the compartment.</p> + +<p>He dragged his stiff legs into the dining-car at Stuttgart and shoved +them under a table. The car was quite empty.<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a> As he was staring blankly +at the menu, the <i>conducteur</i> from his car hurried in with the word that +Madame would not breakfast until nine. She was still very sleepy. Would +Monsieur Medcroft be good enough to order her coffee and rolls brought +to her compartment at that hour? And would he mind seeing that the maid +saw to it that Raggles surely had his biscuit and a walk at the next +station?</p> + +<p>"Raggles?" queried Brock, passing his hand over his brow. The other +shrugged his shoulders and looked askance. "Oh, yes,—I—understand," +murmured the puzzled one, recovering himself. For the next ten minutes +he wondered who Raggles could be.</p> + +<p>He had eaten his strawberries and was waiting for the eggs and coffee, +resentfully eying the early risers who were now coming in for their +coffee and rolls. They had slept—he could tell by the complacent manner +in which their hair was combed and by the interest they found in the +scenery which he had come, by tedious familiarity, to loathe and scorn.</p> + +<p>The actions of two young women near the door attracted his attention. +From their actions he suddenly gathered that they were discussing +him,—and in a more or less facetious fashion, at that. They whispered +and looked shy and grinned in a most disconcerting manner. He turned red +about the ears and began to wonder, fiercely, why his eggs and coffee +were so slow in coming. Then, to his consternation, the young women, +plainly of the serving-class, bore down upon him with abashed smiles. He +noticed for the first time that one of them was carrying a very small +child in her arms; as she came alongside, grinning sheepishly, she +extended the small one toward the astounded Brock, and said in excellent +old English:</p> + +<p><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/img-035.jpg"><img src="images/img-035-tb.jpg" alt="Brock" title="Brock" /></a></div> +<p class="caption">Brock</p> +<p><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>"Good morning, Mr. Medcroft." Then, with a rare inspiration, "Baby, +kiss papa—come, now."</p> + +<p>She pushed the infant almost into Brock's face. He did not observe that +it was a beautiful child and that it had a look of terror in its eyes; +he only knew that he was glaring wildly at the fiendish nurse, the truth +slowly beating its way into his be-addled brain. For a full minute he +stared as if petrified. Then, administering a sickly grin, he sought to +bring his wits up to the requirements of the extraordinary situation. He +lifted his hand and mumbled: "Come, Raggles! I haven't a biscuit, but +here, have a roll, do. Give me a—a kiss!" He added the last in most +heroic surrender.</p> + +<p>The nurse and the maid stared hard at him; the baby turned in affright +to cling closely to the neck of the former.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, sir," whispered the nurse, with a nervous glance about her; +"this ain't Raggles, sir. <i>This</i> is a baby."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I'm blind, madam?" whispered he, savagely. "I can see it's +a baby, but I didn't know there was to be one. Its father didn't mention +it to me."</p> + +<p>"It's a wise father that knows his own child," said the nurse, with +prompt sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"I think they should have prepared me for this," growled he. "Is it +supposed to be mine? Does—does Mrs. Medcroft know about it?"</p> + +<p>"You mean, about the baby, sir? Of course she does. It's hers. Please +don't look so odd, sir. My word, sir, I didn't know you didn't know it, +sir. I wasn't told, was I, O'Brien? There, sir, you see! Mrs. Medcroft +said as I was to bring Tootles in to you, sir. She said—"</p> + +<p>"Tootles?" murmured Brock. "Tootles and Raggles.<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a> I daresay there's a +distinction without much of a difference. Are you Burton?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Medcroft. The nurse. Won't you take baby for a minute, sir? +Just to get acquainted, and for appearance's sake." She whispered the +well-meant entreaty. Brock, now well into the spirit of the situation, +obligingly extended his arms. The baby set up a lusty howl of aversion.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, take him back to his mother!" groaned Brock hastily. +"He doesn't like strangers! Take him away!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't a he, sir," whispered the maid, as the nurse prepared to beat +a hasty retreat with the Medcroft offspring. "It's a her, sir."</p> + +<p>Brock's face was a study in perplexity as they hurried from the car.</p> + +<p>"By George," he muttered, "what next!"</p> + +<p>That which did come next was even more amazing than the unexpected +advent of Tootles. He barely had recovered his equanimity—with his +coffee—when a young lady entered the car. That, of itself, was not much +to speak of, but what followed was something that not even he could have +dreamed of if he had been given the chance. He afterward recalled, in +some distress of mind, that his second quick glance at the newcomer +developed into little less than a rude stare of admiration. Small +wonder, let it be advanced in his defence.</p> + +<p>She was astoundingly fair to look upon—dazzling, it might be said, with +some support to the adjective. Moreover, she was looking directly into +his eyes from her unstable position near the door; what was more, a shy, +even mischievous, smile crept into her face as her glance <a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>caught his. +Never had he seen a more exquisite face than hers; never had he looked +upon a more perfect picture of grace and loveliness and—aye, smartness. +She was smiling with unmistakable friendliness and recognition, and yet +he could have sworn he had not seen her before in his life. As if he +could have forgotten such a face! A sudden sense of enchantment swept +over him, indescribable, yet delicious.</p> + +<p>She was coming toward him—still smiling shyly, her lips parted as if +she were breathing quickly from fear or another emotion. He set down his +coffee-cup without regard to taste or direction, his gaze fixed upon the +trim, slender figure in blue. He now saw that her dark eyes were filled +with a soft seriousness that belied her brave smile; a delicate pink had +come into her clear, high-bred face; the hesitancy of the gentlewoman +enveloped her with a mantle that shielded her from any suspicion of +boldness. Brock struggled to his feet, amazement written in his face.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Roxbury," she said, in the most impersonal of greetings. +Her smile deepened as the blankness increased in his face. In the most +casual, matter-of-fact manner, she appropriated the chair across the +table from his. "Please sit down, Roxy."</p> + +<p>He sat down abruptly. For a single, tense, abashed moment they looked +searchingly into each other's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Are you Raggles?" he asked politely.</p> + +<p>"You poor man!" she cried, aghast. "Raggles is Edith's French poodle. +Has no one told you of the poodle?" She half whispered this. He began to +adore her at that very moment,—a circumstance well worth remembering.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>"No one has told me of <i>you</i>, for that matter," he apologised, +thrilling with a delight such as he had never known before. "Would you +mind whispering to me just who you are? Am I supposed to be your +father—or what?"</p> + +<p>"It is all so delightfully casual, isn't it?" she said. "I daresay they +forgot to tell you that you are a man of family. Didn't they mention me +in any way at all?" She pouted very prettily.</p> + +<p>"No, they ignored you and Raggles and Tootles. Are there any more in my +family that I haven't met?"</p> + +<p>"You see, we got to the station quite a bit ahead of Edith. That's how +you happened to miss meeting us. We saw you there, however. I recognised +you by your clothes. You seemed very unhappy. Oh, I forgot. You wanted +to know who I am. Well, I am your sister-in-law." She ordered coffee and +toast while he sat there figuring it out. When the waiter departed, he +leaned forward and said quite frankly,—</p> + +<p>"You'll pardon me, I'm sure, but I can't understand how I was so +short-sighted as to marry your sister."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, you didn't catch a glimpse of me until after you were +married," she railed. "I was in the Sacred Heart convent, you remember."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that explains the oversight. I am considered an unusually +discriminating person. Let me see: I married a Miss Fowler, didn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Roxbury. Four years ago, in London, at St. George's, in Hanover +Square, at four o'clock, on a Saturday. Didn't they tell you all that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think they said anything about it being four o'clock. I'm glad +to know the awful details, believe me. Thanks! Do you know I decided you +were an American <a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>the instant I saw you in the door," he went on, quite +irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"How clever of you, Roxbury!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Miss Fowler, I'm not such an ass as I look, really I'm not. +I'm trying to look like—"</p> + +<p>"'Sh! If you want me to believe you are not the ass you think you look, +be careful what you say. Remember I am <i>not</i> Miss Fowler to you. I am +Constance—sometimes Connie. Can you remember that,—Roxbury?"</p> + +<p>He drew a long breath. "Oh, I say, Connie, I'd much rather be plain +Brock to you."</p> + +<p>"Please don't forget that I am doing this for my sister,—not for +myself, by any manner of means," she said stiffly. He flushed painfully, +conscious of the rebuke.</p> + +<p>"Please overlook my faults for the time being," he said. "I'll do +better. You see, I've been rather overcome by the sense of my own +importance. I'm not used to being the head of an establishment. It has +dazed me. A great many things have happened to me since I left the Gare +de l'Est last night." He was considerate in not referring to his unhappy +mode of travelling. "For instance, I've completely lost my head." He +might have said hat, but that would have sounded commonplace and earthy.</p> + +<p>"One does, you know, when he loses his identity," she said +sympathetically. "Edith says you are ripping, and all that sort of +thing," she went on hurriedly, in perfect mimicry. "You come very highly +recommended as a brother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Are you to be with us until the end of the play?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The Rodneys are my friends, not Edith's. Katherine Rodney was in +the convent with me. We see <a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>a great deal of each other. I'm sure you +will like her. Everybody falls dreadfully in love with her."</p> + +<p>"How very amiable of you to permit it," he protested gallantly. "I'm +sure I shall enjoy falling in love. Which reminds me that I've never had +a sister-in-law. They're very nice, I'm told. It's odd that Medcroft +didn't tell me about you. Would you mind advancing a bit of general +information about yourself—and, I may say, about my family in general? +It may come handy."</p> + +<p>"I feel as though I had known you for years," she said, frankly +returning his gaze. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her +chin in her hands. "I'm merely Edith's sister. We live in Paris,—that +is, father and I. I'm three years younger than Edith. Of course, you +know how old your wife is, so we won't dwell upon that. You don't? Then +I'd demand it of her. I haven't been in Philadelphia since I was +seven—and that's ages ago. I have no mother, and father is off in South +America on business. So, you see, little sister has to tag after big +sister. Oh!" She interrupted the recital with an abrupt change of +manner. "I'm so sorry you've finished your coffee. Now you'll have to +go. Roxbury always does."</p> + +<p>"But I haven't finished," he exclaimed eagerly. "I'm going to have three +or four more pots. You have no idea how—"</p> + +<p>"It's all right then," she said with her rarest and most confident +smile. "Well, Edith asked me to come to London for the season. The +Rodneys were in Paris at the time, however, and they had asked me to +join them for a fortnight in the Tyrol. When I said that I was off for a +visit with the—with you, I mean—they insisted that you all should come +too. They are connections, in a <a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>way, don't you see. So we accepted. And +here we are."</p> + +<p>"You don't, by any chance, happen to be engaged to be married, or +anything of that sort," he ventured. "Don't crush me! It's only as a +safeguard, you know. People may ask questions."</p> + +<p>"You are not obliged to answer them, Roxbury," she said. The flush had +deepened in her cheek. It convinced him that she <i>was</i> in love—and +engaged. He experienced a queer sinking of the heart. "You can say that +you don't know, if anyone should be so rude as to ask." Suddenly she +caught her breath and stared at him in a sort of panic. "Heavens," she +whispered, the toast poised half-way to her lips, "<i>you</i>'re not, by any +chance, engaged, are you? Appalling thought!"</p> + +<p>He laughed delightedly. "People won't ask about me, my dear Constance. +I'm already married, you know. But if anyone <i>should</i> ask, you're not +obliged to answer."</p> + +<p>She looked troubled and uncertain. "You may be really married, after +all," she speculated. "Who knows? Poor old Roxbury wouldn't have had the +tact to inquire."</p> + +<p>"I am a henpecked bachelor, believe me."</p> + +<p>For the next quarter of an hour they chatted in the liveliest, most +inconsequential fashion, getting on excellent terms with each other and +arriving at a fair sense of appreciation of what lay ahead of them in +the shape of peril and adventure.</p> + +<p>She was the most delightful person he had ever met, as well as being the +most beautiful. There was a sprightly, ever-growing air of self-reliance +about her that charmed and reassured him. She possessed the capacity for +divining the sane and the ridiculous with splendid discrimination.<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a> +Moreover, she could jest and be serious with an impartial intelligence +that gratified his vanity without in the least inspiring the suspicion +that she was merely clever. He became blissfully imbued with the idea +that she had surprised herself by the discovery that he was really quite +attractive. In fact, he was quite sincerely pleased with himself—for +which he may be pardoned if one stops to think how resourceful a woman +of tact may be if she is very, very pretty.</p> + +<p>And, by way of further analogy, Brock was a thoroughly likable chap, +beside being handsome and a thoroughbred to the core. It's not betraying +a secret to affirm, cold-bloodedly, that Miss Fowler had not allied +herself with the enterprise until after she had pinned Roxbury down to +facts concerning Brock's antecedents. She was properly relieved to find +that he came of a fine old family and that he had led more than one +cotillion in New York.</p> + +<p>He experienced a remarkable change of front in respect to Roxbury +Medcroft before the breakfast was over. It may have been due to the +spell of her eyes or to the call of her voice, but it remains an +unchallenged fact that he no longer thought of Medcroft as a stupid +bungler; instead, he had come to regard him as a good and irreproachable +Samaritan. All of which goes to prove that a divinity shapes our ends, +rough hew them how we may.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure we shall get on famously," he said, as she signified her +desire to return to the compartment. "I've always longed for a nice, +agreeable sister-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Her mission in life, up to a certain stage, is to make the man +appreciate the fact that he has, after all, been snapped up by a small +but deserving family," she said blithely. "It is also her duty to pour +oil on troubled <a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>waters and strew flowers along the connubial highway, +so long as her kind offices are not resented. By the way, Roxbury, I am +now about to preserve you from bitter reproaches. You have forgotten to +order coffee and rolls for your wife."</p> + +<p>"Great Scott! So I have! It's nine o'clock." He ordered the coffee and +rolls to be sent in at once. "I hope she hasn't starved to death."</p> + +<p>"My dear Roxbury," she said sternly, "I must take you under my wing. You +have much to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours, not the least of +your duties being the subjugation of Tootles and Raggles. Tootles is +fifteen months old, it may interest you to know. We can't afford to have +Tootles scream with terror every time she sees you, and it would be most +unfortunate if Raggles should growl and snap at you as he does at all +suspicious strangers. Once in a while he bites too. Do you like babies?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I—I think I do," he said doubtingly. "I daresay I could cultivate +a taste for 'em. But, I say," with eager enthusiasm, "I love dogs!"</p> + +<p>"It may be distinctly in your favour that Raggles loathes the real +Roxbury. He growls every time that Roxy kisses Edith."</p> + +<p>"Has he ever bitten Roxy for it?"</p> + +<p>"No," dubiously, "but Roxy has had to kick him on several occasions."</p> + +<p>"How very tiresome,—to kick and kiss at the same time."</p> + +<p>"Raggles is very jealous, you understand."</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say for dear old Roxy. But I'll try to +anticipate Raggles by compelling Edith to keep <a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>her distance," he said, +scowling darkly. "Has it not occurred to you that Tootles will be +pretty—er—much of a nuisance when it comes to mountain climbing?" He +felt his way carefully in saying this.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me, Roxbury, would you have left the poor little darling at +home—in all that dreadful heat?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I couldn't have been blamed for leaving her at home," he +protested. "She didn't exist until half an hour ago. Heavens! how they +do spring up!"</p> + +<p>The remainder of Brock's day was spent in getting acquainted with his +family—or, rather, his <i>ménage</i>. There were habits and foibles, demands +and restrictions, that he had to adapt himself to with unvarying +benignity. He made a friend of Raggles without half trying; dogs always +took to him, he admitted modestly. Tootles was less vulnerable. She +howled consistently at each of his first half-dozen advances; his +courage began to wane with shocking rapidity; his next half-hearted +advances were in reality inglorious retreats. Spurred on by the +sustaining Constance, he stood by his guns and at last was gratified to +see faint signs of surrender. By midday he had conquered. Tootles +permitted him to carry her up and down the station platform (she was too +young to realise the risk she ran). Edith and Constance, with the +beaming nurse and O'Brien, applauded warmly when he returned from his +first promenade, bearing Tootles and proudly heeled by Raggles. Fond +mothers in the crowd of hurrying travellers found time to look upon him +and smile as if to say, "What a nice man!" He could almost hear them +saying it. Which, no doubt, accounted for the intense ruddiness of his +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever spank her?" he demanded once of<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a> Mrs. Medcroft, after +Tootles had brought tears to his eyes with a potent attack upon his +nose. She caught the light of danger in his grey eyes and hastily +snatched the offending Tootles from his arms.</p> + +<p>Miss Fowler kept him constantly at work with his eyeglass and his +English, neither of which he was managing well enough to please her +critical estimate. In fact, he laboured all day with the persistence, if +not the sullenness, of a hard-driven slave. He did not have time to +become tired. There was always something new to be done or learned or +unlearned: his day was full to overflowing. He was a man of family!</p> + +<p>The wife of his bosom was tranquillity itself. She was enjoying herself. +When not amusing herself by watching Brock's misfortunes, she was +napping or reading or sending out for cool drinks. With all the +selfishness of a dutiful wife, she was content to shift responsibilities +upon that ever convenient and useful creature—a detached sister.</p> + +<p>Brock sent telegrams for her from cities along the way,—Ulm, Munich, +Salzburg, and others,—all meant for the real Roxbury in London, but +sent to a fictitious being in Great Russell Street, the same having been +agreed upon by at least two of the conspirators. It mattered little that +she repeated herself monotonously in regard to the state of health of +herself and Tootles. Roxbury would doubtless enjoy the protracted +happiness brought on by these despatches, even though they got him out +of bed or missed him altogether until they reached him in a bunch the +next day. He may also have been gratified to hear from Munich that +Roxbury was perfectly lovely. She said, in the course of her longest +despatch, that she was so <a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>glad that the baby was getting to like her +father more and more as the day wore on.</p> + +<p>At one station Brock narrowly escaped missing the train. He swung +himself aboard as the cars were rolling out of the sheds. As he sank, +hot and exhausted, into the seat opposite his wife and her sister, the +former looked up from her book, yawning ever so faintly, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Are you enjoying your honeymoon, Roxbury?"</p> + +<p>"Immensely!" he exclaimed, but not until he had searched for and caught +Connie's truant gaze. "Aren't we?" he asked of Miss Fowler, his eyes +dancing. She smiled encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"I think you are such a nice man to have about," commented Mrs. +Medcroft, this time yawning freely and stretching her fine young arms in +the luxury of home contentment.</p> + +<p>Brock went to bed early, in Vienna that night—tired but happy, caring +not what the morrow brought forth so long as it continued to provide him +with a sister-in-law and a wife who was devoted—to another man.</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-3.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<h4>THE DISTANT COUSINS.</h4> + + +<p>The end of the week found Brock quite thoroughly domesticated—to use an +expression supplied by his new sister-in-law. True, he had gone through +some trying ordeals and had lost not a little of his sense of locality, +but he was rapidly recovering it as the pathway became easier and less +obscure. At first he was irritatingly remiss in answering to the name of +Medcroft; but, to justify the stupidity, it is only necessary to say +that he had fallen into a condition which scarcely permitted him to know +his own name, much less that of another. He was under the spell! +Wherefore it did not matter at all what name he went by: he would have +answered as readily to one as the other.</p> + +<p>He blandly ignored telegrams and letters addressed to Roxbury Medcroft, +and once he sat like a lump, with everyone staring at him, when the +chairman of the architects' convention asked if Mr. Medcroft had +anything to say on the subject under discussion. He was forced, in some +confusion, to attribute his heedlessness to a life-long defect in +hearing. Thereafter it was his punishment to have his name and fragments +of conversation hurled about in tones so stentorian that he blushed for +very shame. In the Bristol, in the Kärntner-Ring, in the Lichtenstein +Gallery, <a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>in the Gardens—no matter where he went—if he were to be +accosted by any of the genial architects it was always in a voice that +attracted attention; he could have heard them if they had been a block +away. It became a habit with him to instinctively lift his hand to his +ear when one of them hove in sight, having seen him first.</p> + +<p>"That's what I get for being a liar," he lamented dolefully. Constance +had just whispered her condolences. "Do you think they'll consider it +odd that you don't shout at me too?"</p> + +<p>"You might explain that you can tell what I am saying by looking at my +lips," she said. He was immensely relieved.</p> + +<p>Considerable difficulty had to be overcome at the Bristol in the matter +of rooms. Without going into details, Brock resignedly took the only +room left in the crowded hotel—a six by ten cubby-hole on the top floor +overlooking the air-shaft. He had to go down one flight for his morning +tub, and he never got it because he refused to stand in line and await +his turn. Mrs. Medcroft had the choicest room in the hotel, looking down +upon the beautiful Kärntner-Ring. Constance proposed, in the goodness of +her heart, to give up to Brock her own room, adjoining that of her +sister, provided Edith would take her in to sleep with her. Edith was +perfectly willing, but interposed the sage conclusion that gossiping +menials might not appreciate a preference so unique.</p> + +<p>Mr. Roxbury Medcroft's sky parlour adjoined the elevator shaft. The head +of his bed was in close proximity to the upper mechanism of the lift, a +thin wall intervening. A French architect, who had a room hard by, met +Brock in the hall, hollow-eyed and haggard, on the morning after <a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>their +first night. He shouted lugubrious congratulations in Brock's ear, just +as if Brock's ear had not been harassed a whole night long by shrieking +wheels and rasping cables.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur is very fortunate in being so afflicted," he boomed. "A +thousand times in the night have I wished that I might be deaf also. Ah, +even an affliction such as yours, monsieur, has its benedictions!"</p> + +<p>Matters drifted along smoothly, even merrily, for several days. They +were all young and full of the joy of living. They laughed in secret +over the mishaps and perils; they whiffed and enjoyed the spice that +filled the atmosphere in which they lived. They visited the gardens and +the Hofs, the Chateau at Schönbrunn, the Imperial stables, the gay +"Venice in Vienna"; they attended the opera and the concerts, ever in a +most circumspect "trinity," as Brock had come to classify their parties. +Like a dutiful husband, he always included his wife in the expeditions.</p> + +<p>"You are not only a most exemplary wife, Mrs. Medcroft," he declared, +"but an unusually agreeable chaperon. I don't know how Constance and I +could get on without you."</p> + +<p>But the day of severest trial was now at hand. The Rodneys were arriving +on the fifth day from Berlin. Despite the fact that the Seattle +"connections" had never seen the illustrious Medcroft, husband to their +distant cousin, there still remained the disturbing fear that they would +recognise—or rather fail to recognise him!—from chance pictures that +might have come to their notice. Besides, there was always the +possibility that they had seen or even met Brock in New York. He +lugubriously admitted that he had met unfortunate thousands whom he had +promptly forgotten but who seldom failed to remember him. It is <a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>not +surprising, then, that the Medcrofts, <i>ex parte</i>, were in a state of +perturbation,—a condition which did not relax in the least as the time +drew near for the arrival of the five o'clock train from the north. +Constance strove faithfully, even valiantly, to inject confidence into +the souls of the prime conspirators.</p> + +<p>"You have done so beautifully up to this time," she protested to the +dolorous Brock, "why should you be afraid? I once read of an Indian +chief whose name was Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Wife! He was a very brave +fellow in spite of all that. You are afraid of Edith, but can't you be +like the Indian? He—"</p> + +<p>"That's all very nice," mourned Brock, "but he could cover his confusion +with war paint. Don't forget that, my dear. Think of the difference in +our disguises! War paint in daubs versus spats and an eyeglass. Besides, +he didn't have to talk West End English. And, moreover, he lived in a +wigwam, and didn't have to explain a sky bedroom to strangers who +happened along."</p> + +<p>"That is a bit awkward," she confessed thoughtfully. "But can't you say +that you have insomnia, and can't sleep unless you are above the noise +of the street?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an expression that made a verbal reply to this +suggestion altogether unnecessary.</p> + +<p>"Nurse says that Tootles has forgotten the real Roxbury," she went on, +after a moment. "See how cleverly you have played the part."</p> + +<p>Still he stared moodily, unconvinced, at the roadway ahead. They were +driving in the Haupt Allee.</p> + +<p>"I hope I haven't got Roxbury into trouble by that interview I gave out +concerning the new method of fire-proofing woodwork in office buildings +and hotels. It <a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>occurred to me afterward that he is violently opposed to +the system. I advocated it. He'll have a—I might say, a devil of a time +explaining his change of front."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, when Medcroft, hiding in London, saw the reproduced +interview in the "Times," together with editorial comments upon the +extraordinary attitude of a supposedly conservative Englishman of +recognised ability, he was tried almost beyond endurance. For the next +two or three days the newspapers printed caustic contributions from +fellow architects and builders, in each of which the luckless Medcroft +was taken to task for advocating an impractical and fatuous New York +hobby in the way of construction,—something that staid old London would +not even tolerate or discuss. The social chroniclings of the Medcrofts +in Vienna, as despatched by the correspondents, offset this unhappy +"bull" to some extent, in so far as Medcroft's peace of mind was +concerned, but nothing could have drawn attention to the fact that he +was not in London at that particular time so decisively as the Vienna +interview and its undefended front. Even his shrewdest enemy could not +have suspected Medcroft of a patience which would permit him to sit +quiet in London while the attacks were going on. He found some small +solace in the reflection that he could make the end justify the means.</p> + +<p>On their return to the Bristol, Brock and Miss Fowler found the fair +Edith in a pitiful state of collapse. She declared over and over again +that she could not face the Rodneys; it was more than should be expected +of her; she was sure that something would go wrong; why, oh, why was it +necessary to deceive the Rodneys? Why should they be kept in the dark? +Why wasn't Roxbury there to counsel wisely—and more, <i>ad infinitum</i>, +until the distracted <a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>pair were on the point of deserting the cause. She +finally dissolved into tears, and would not listen to reason, +expostulation, or persuasion. It was then that Brock cruelly but +effectively declared his intention to abdicate, as he also had a +reputation to preserve. Whereupon, with a fine sense of distinction, she +flared up and accused him of treachery to his best friend, Roxbury +Medcroft, who was reposing the utmost confidence in his friendship and +loyalty. How could she be expected to go on with the play if he, the man +upon whom everything depended, was to turn tail in a critical hour like +this?</p> + +<p>"How can you have the heart to spoil everything?" she cried indignantly. +He looked at her in fresh amazement. "Roxbury would never forgive you. +We have both placed the utmost confidence in you, Mr. Brock, and—"</p> + +<p>"'Sh! Say 'Roxbury, dear'!" interposed the practical Constance. "The +walls may have ears, my dears."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Medcroft plaintively implored his forgiveness, and said that +she was miserable and ashamed and very unappreciative. Brock, in deep +humility, begged her pardon for his unnecessary harshness, and promised +not to offend again.</p> + +<p>"The first quarrel," cried Constance delightedly. "How nicely you've +made it up. And you've been married less than a week!"</p> + +<p>"Roxbury and I didn't have our first quarrel until we'd been married a +year," said Edith reflectively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Edith," exclaimed Brock, with a dark frown, "I'd rather you +wouldn't be forever extolling the good qualities of my predecessor. It's +very bad taste. Very much like the pies mother used to make."</p> + +<p>"Silly!" cried Medcroft's wife, now in fine humour.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>"Besides, Rox is an Englishman. It would take him a year to produce a +quarrel. The American husband is not so confounded slow. I won't live up +to Roxbury in everything."</p> + +<p>It was decided that Constance should greet the Rodneys upon their +arrival; the Medcrofts were not to appear until dinner time. Afterwards +the entire party would attend the opera, which was then in the closing +week. Brock, with splendid prodigality, had taken a box for the final +performance of "Tristan and Isolde." It is not out of place to remark +that Brock loathed the Wagnerian opera; he was of "The Mikado" cult. He +took the seats with a definite purpose in mind to cast the burden of +responsibility upon his wife, who would be forced to extend herself in +the capacity of hostess, giving him the much-needed opportunity to +secure safe footing in the dark area of uncertainty. He believed himself +capable of diverting the youthful Miss Rodney and his discreet +sister-in-law, but he was consumed by an unholy dread of Rodney <i>père</i>; +something told him that this shrewd American business man was not the +kind who would have the wool pulled over his eyes by anyone. Brock felt +that the support of Constance was of greater value than that of Edith at +any stage or in any emergency.</p> + +<p>Besides, he was now quite palpably in love with her! "I've got it bad!" +he reflected in sober consideration of his plight. "But," came the +ironic justification, "I'm able to confine it to the immediate family. +That's more than most husbands can say."</p> + +<p>The Rodneys descended upon the Bristol at five o'clock, rushing down +from the Nord-Bahnhof as if there was not a minute to spare. Constance +pursued Katherine to her <a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>room, where they revelled in the delights of a +reunion, gradually coming out of its throes as the hour for dressing +approached.</p> + +<p>"We dine early, dear," said Constance, "with supper after the opera. I +must be off to dress."</p> + +<p>"I am so eager to meet Mr. Medcroft. Is he nice?"</p> + +<p>"He's the dearest thing in the world," cried the other, her cheeks +aglow.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad, on Edith's account. Most of these English matches turn out +abominably," commented Miss Rodney, who was twenty, very pretty, and +very worldly. "Oh, did I tell you that Freddie Ulstervelt is with us?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"We came across him in Berlin, and dad asked him to join us, if he had +nothing better to do, so he said he would. He was with us in Dresden and +Prague and—don't you think he's awfully jolly?"</p> + +<p>"Ripping!" said Constance with deplorable fervour.</p> + +<p>"How awfully English! He said he'd seen you in Paris this spring."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Fowler, her cheeks going red suddenly. "I told him +you'd asked me to be with you in June." She could have cut out her +tongue for saying this, but it was too late. Katherine laughed a trifle +hardly after a stiff moment; then a queer light flitted into her +eyes,—the light of awakened opposition. Constance was saying to +herself, "She's in love with Freddie. I might have known it." Back in +her brain lay the memory of Freddie's violent protestations of love, +uttered during those recent days in Paris. He had threatened to throw +himself into the Seine; she remembered that quite well—and also the +fact that he did nothing of the sort, but had a very jolly <a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>time at +Maxim's and sent her flowers by way of repentance. Knowing Freddie so +well, it would not have surprised her in the least to find that he had +become engaged to Katherine. His heart was a very flexible organ.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/img-057.jpg"><img src="images/img-057-tb.jpg" alt="Katherine" title="Katherine" /></a></div> +<p class="caption">Katherine</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Katherine, "I believe he did say that you had mentioned us." +Of herself she was asking: "I wonder if she is in love with him!"</p> + +<p>And thus it transpired that Freddie Ulstervelt—addlepated, +good-looking, inconstant Freddie, just out of college—was transformed +into a bone of contention, whether he would or no.</p> + +<p>He was of the kind who love or make love to every new girl they meet, +seriously enough at the time, but easily passed over if need be. Rebuffs +may have puzzled him, but they left no jagged scar. He belonged to that +class which upsets the tranquillity of inexperienced maidens by +whispering intensely, "God, it's grand!" And he means it at the moment.</p> + +<p>Katherine Rodney was in love with him. He belonged to a fashionable New +York family of wealth, and he had been a young lion at Pasadena during +the winter just past. He owned automobiles and a yacht and—an extensive +wardrobe. These notable assets had much to do with the conquest of Mrs. +Rodney: she looked with favour upon the transitory Mr. Ulstervelt, and +believed in her heart that he had something to do with the location of +the shining sun. But of this affair more anon, as the novelists say.</p> + +<p>Brock was presented to the Rodneys just before the party went in to +dinner. He managed his eyeglass and his drawl bravely, and got on +swimmingly with the elder Rodneys, until Constance appeared with +Katherine and Freddie Ulstervelt. It was not until then that it occurred +to Miss<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a> Fowler that Freddie, being from New York, was almost certain to +know Brock either personally or by sight. She experienced a cold chill, +the distinct approach of catastrophe. Brock had just been told that +young Ulstervelt of New York was to be of the party. His blood ran cold. +He had never seen the young man, but he knew his father well; he had +even dined at the mansion in Madison Avenue. There was every reason, +however, to suspect that Freddie knew him by sight. Even as he was +planning a mode of defence in case of recognition, the young man was +presented. Brock's drawl was something wonderful.</p> + +<p>"I—aw—knew your family, I'm sure—aw, quite sure," he said. "You know, +of course, that I lived in your—aw—delightful city for some years. +Strange we never met, 'pon my soul."</p> + +<p>"Oh, New York's a pretty big place, Mr. Medcroft," said Freddie +good-naturedly. He was a slight young fellow with a fresh, inquisitive +face. "It's bigger than London in some ways. It's bigger upwards. Say, +do you know, you remind me of a fellow I knew in New York!"</p> + +<p>"Haw, haw!" laughed Brock, without grace or reason. Miss Fowler caught +her breath sharply.</p> + +<p>"Fellow named Brock. Stupid sort of chap, my mother says. I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me, Mr. Ulstervelt," cried Edith, breaking in, "you shan't say +anything mean about Mr. Brock. He's my husband's best friend."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say it, Mrs. Medcroft. It was my mother." Brock was hiding a +smile behind his hand. "She knows him better than I. To tell the truth, +I've never met him, but I've seen him on the Fifth Avenue stages. You +<i>do</i> look like him, though, by Jove."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>"It's extraordinary how many people think I look like dear old Brock," +said the false Roxbury. "But, on the other hand, most people think that +Brock looks like me, so what's the odds? Haw, haw! Ripping! Eh, Mr. +Rodney?"</p> + +<p>"Ripping? Ripping what? Good God, am I ripping anything?" gasped Mr. +Rodney, who was fussy and fat and generally futile. He seemed to grow +suddenly uncomfortable, as if ripping was a habit with him.</p> + +<p>Dinner was a success. Brock shone with a refulgence that bedimmed all +expectations. His wife was delighted; in all of the four years of +married life, Roxbury had never been so brilliant, so deliciously +English (to use her own expression). Constance tingled with pride. Of +late, she had experienced unusual difficulty in diverting her gaze from +the handsome impostor, and her thoughts were ever of him—in +justification of a platonic interest, of course, no more than that. +To-night her eyes and thoughts were for him alone,—a circumstance +which, could he have felt sure, would have made him wildly happy, +instead of inordinately furious in his complete misunderstanding of her +manner toward Freddie Ulstervelt, who had no compunction about making +love to two girls at the same time. She was never so beautiful, never so +vivacious, never so resourceful. Brock was under the spell; he was +fascinated; he had to look to himself carefully in order to keep his +wits in the prescribed channel.</p> + +<p>His self-esteem received a severe shock at the opera. Mrs. Medcroft, +with malice aforethought, insisted that Ulstervelt should take her +husband's seat. As the box held but six persons, the unfortunate Brock +was compelled to shift more or less for himself. Inwardly raging, he +<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>suavely assured the party—Freddie in particular—that he would find a +seat in the body of the house and would join them during the +<i>Entr'acte</i>. Then he went out and sat in the foyer. It was fortunate +that he hated Wagner. Before the end of the act he was joined by Mr. +Rodney, horribly bored and eager for relief. In a near-by <i>café</i> they +had a whiskey and soda apiece, and, feeling comfortably reinforced, +returned to the opera house arm-in-arm, long and short, thin and fat, +liberally discoursing upon the intellectuality of Herr Wagner.</p> + +<p>"Say, you're not at all like an Englishman," exclaimed Mr. Rodney +impulsively, even gratefully.</p> + +<p>"Eh, what?" gasped Brock, replacing his eyeglass. "Oh, I say, now, 'pon +my word, haw, haw!"</p> + +<p>"You've got an American sense of humour, Medcroft, that's what you have. +You recognise the joke that Wagner played on the world. Pardon me for +saying it, sir, but I didn't think it was in an Englishman."</p> + +<p>"Haw, haw! Ripping, by Jove! No, no! Not you. I mean the joke. But then, +you see, it's been so long since Wagner played it that even an +Englishman has had time to see the point. Besides, I've lived a bit of +my life in America."</p> + +<p>"That accounts for it," said the tactless but sincere Mr. Rodney.</p> + +<p>Brock glared so venomously at the intrusive Mr. Ulstervelt upon the +occasion of his next visit to his own box, that Mrs. Medcroft smiled +softly to herself as she turned her face away. A few minutes later she +seized the opportunity to whisper in his ear. Her eyes were sparkling, +and something in her manner bespoke the bated breath.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>"You are in love with my sister," was what she said to him. He blushed +convincingly.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" he managed to reply, but without much persuasiveness.</p> + +<p>"But you are. I'm not blind. Anyone can see it. <i>She</i> sees it. Haven't +you sense enough to hide it from her? How do you expect to win?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Mrs.—my dear Edith, you amaze me. I'm confusion itself. But," +he went on eagerly, illogically, "do you think I <i>could</i> win her?"</p> + +<p>"That is not for one's wife to say," she said demurely.</p> + +<p>"I'd be tremendously proud of you as a sister-in-law. And I'd be much +obliged if you'd help me. But look at that confounded Ulstervelt! He's +making love to her with the whole house looking on."</p> + +<p>"I think it might be polite if you were to ask him out for a drink," she +suggested.</p> + +<p>"But I've had one and I never take two."</p> + +<p>"Model husband! Then take the girls into the foyer for a stroll and a +chat after the act. Don't mind me. I'm your friend."</p> + +<p>"Do you think I've got a chance with her?" he asked with a brave effort.</p> + +<p>"You've had one wife thrust upon you; why should you expect another +without a struggle? I'm afraid you'll have to work for Constance."</p> + +<p>"But I have your—I can count on your approval?" he whispered eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Roxbury! People will think you are making love to <i>me</i>!" she +protested, wilfully ignoring his question.</p> + +<p>He returned to the box after the second act and proposed a turn in the +foyer. To his disgust, Ulstervelt appropriated<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a> Constance and left him +to follow with Mrs. Rodney and Katherine. He almost hated Edith for the +tantalising smile she shot after him as he moved away, defeated.</p> + +<p>If he was glaring luridly at the irrepressible Freddie, he was not alone +in his gloom. Katherine Rodney, green with jealousy, was sending +spiteful glances after her dearest friend, while Mrs. Rodney was +sniffing the air as if it was laden with frost.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think Connie is a perfect dear? I'm so fond of her," said +Miss Rodney, so sweetly that he should have detected the nether-flow.</p> + +<p>He started and pulled himself together. "Aw, yes,—ripping!" He +consciously adjusted his eyeglass for a hasty glance about in search of +the easily disturbed Mr. Rodney. Then, to Mrs. Rodney, his mind a blank +after a passing glimpse of Constance and her escort: "Aw—er—a +perfectly jolly opera, isn't it?"</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-4.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<h4>THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW.</h4> + + +<p>The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Alfred Rodney, a telegram in his +hand, charged down the hall to Mrs. Medcroft's door. With characteristic +Far West impulsiveness he banged on the door. A sleepy voice asked who +was there.</p> + +<p>"It's me—Rodney. Get up. I want to see Medcroft. Say, Roxbury, wake +up!"</p> + +<p>"Roxbury?" came in shrill tones from within. "He—Isn't he upstairs? +Good heaven, Mr. Rodney, what has happened? What <i>has</i> happened?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs? What the deuce is he doing upstairs?"'</p> + +<p>"He's—he's sleeping! Do tell me what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't this Mr. Medcroft's room?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es—but he isn't in. He objects to the noise. Oh, has anything +happened to Roxbury?" She was standing just inside the door, and her +voice betrayed agitation.</p> + +<p>"My dear Edith, don't get excited. I have a telegram from—"</p> + +<p>She uttered a shriek.</p> + +<p>"He's been assassinated! Oh, Roxbury!"</p> + +<p>"What the dev—Are you crazy? It's a telegram from——"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>"Oh, heavens! I knew they'd kill him—I knew something dreadful would +happen if I left—" Here she stopped suddenly. He distinctly heard her +catch her breath. After a moment she went on warily: "Is it from a man +named Hobart?"</p> + +<p>"No! It's from Odell-Carney. Hobart? I don't know anybody named Hobart." +(How was he to know that Hobart was the name that Medcroft had chosen +for correspondence purposes?) "We're to meet the Odell-Carneys to-day in +Munich. No time to be lost. We've got to catch the nine o'clock train."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" came in great relief from the other side of the door. Then, in +sudden dismay: "But I can't do it! The idea of getting up at an hour +like this!"</p> + +<p>"What room is Roxbury in?"</p> + +<p>"I—<i>don't</i> <span class="smcap">know</span>!!" in very decided tones. "Inquire at the +office!"</p> + +<p>Alfred Rodney was a persevering man. It is barely possible that he +occupied a lower social plane than that attained by his wife, but he was +a man of accomplishment, if not accomplishments. He always did what he +set out to do. Be it said in defence of this assertion, he not only +routed out his entire protesting flock, but had them at the West-Bahnhof +in time to catch the Orient Express—luggage, accessories, and all. Be +it also said that he was the only one in the party, save Constance and +Tootles, who took to the situation amiably.</p> + +<p>"Damn the Odell-Carneys," was what Freddie Ulstervelt said as the train +drew out of the station. Brock looked up approvingly.</p> + +<p>"That's the first sensible thing I've heard him say," he muttered loud +enough to be heard by Miss Fowler.<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a> "I say, who are the Odell-Carneys? +First I've heard of 'em."</p> + +<p>"The Odell-Carneys? Oh, dear, have you never heard of them?" she cried +in surprise. He felt properly rebuked. "They are very swell Londoners. +It is said—"</p> + +<p>"Then, good heavens, they'll know I'm not Medcroft," he whispered in +alarm.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, my dear Roxbury. That's just where you're wrong. They don't +know Roxbury the first. I've gone over it all with Edith. She's just +crazy to get into the Odell-Carney set. I regret to say that they have +failed to notice the Medcrofts up to this time. Secretly, Edith has +ambitions. She has gone to the Lord Mayor's dinners and to the Royal +Antiquarians and to Sir John Rodney's and a lot of other functions on +the outer rim, but she's never been able to break through the crust and +taste the real sweets of London society. My dear Roxbury, the +Odell-Carneys entertain the nobility without compunction, and they've +been known to hobnob with royalty. Mrs. Odell-Carney was a Lady +Somebody-or-other before she married the second time. She's terribly +smart, Roxbury."</p> + +<p>"How, in the name of heaven, do they happen to be hobnobbing, as you +call it, with the Rodneys, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it seems that Odell-Carney is promoting a new South African +mining venture. I have it from Freddie Ulstervelt that he's trying to +sell something like a million shares to Mr. Rodney, who has loads of +money that came from real mines in the Far West. He'd never be such a +fool as to sink a million in South Africa, you know, but he's just +clever enough to see the advantage of keeping Odell-Carney in tow, as it +were. It means a great deal to Mrs. Rodney, don't you know, Roxbury, to +be able to <a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>say that she toured with the Odell-Carneys. Freddie says +that Cousin Alfred is talking in a very diplomatic manner of going on to +London in August to look fully into the master. It is understood that +the Rodneys are to be the guests of the Odell-Carneys while in London. +It won't be the season, of course, so there won't be much of a commotion +in the smart set. It is our dear Edith's desire to slip into the charmed +circle through the rift that the Rodneys make. Do you comprehend?"</p> + +<p>They were seated side by side in the corner of the compartment, his +broad back screening her as much as possible from the persistent glances +of Freddie Ulstervelt, who was nobly striving to confine his attentions +to Katherine. Brock's eyes were devouring her exquisite face with a +greediness that might have caused her some uneasiness if there had not +been something pleasantly agreeable in his way of doing it.</p> + +<p>"Yes—faintly," he replied, after an almost imperceptible conflict +between the senses of sight and hearing. "But how does she intend to +explain me away? I'll be a dreadful skeleton in her closet if it comes +to that. When she is obliged to produce the real Roxbury, what then?"</p> + +<p>"She's thought it all out, Roxbury," said Constance severely but almost +inaudibly. "I'm sure Freddie heard part of what you said. Do be careful. +She's going to reveal the whole plot to Mrs. Odell-Carney just as soon +as Roxbury gives the word—treating it as a very clever and necessary +ruse, don't you see. Mrs. Odell-Carney will be implored to aid in the +deception for a few days, and she'll consent, because she's really quite +a bit of a sport. At the psychological moment the Rodneys will be told. +That places Mrs. Odell-Carney in the position of being an <a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>abettor or +accomplice: she's had the distinction of being a sharer in a most +glorious piece of strategy. Don't you see how charmingly it will all +work in the end?"</p> + +<p>"What are you two whispering about?" demanded Freddie Ulstervelt +noisily, patience coming to an end.</p> + +<p>"Wha—what the devil is that to—" began Brock furiously. Constance +brought him up sharp with a warning kick on the ankle. He vowed +afterward that he would carry the mark to his grave.</p> + +<p>"He's telling me what a nice chap you are, Freddie," said she sweetly. +Brock glared out of the window. Freddie sniffed scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting sick of this job," growled Brock under his breath. "I +didn't calculate on—"</p> + +<p>"Now, Roxbury dear, don't be a bear," she pleaded so gently, her eyes so +full of appeal, that he flushed with sudden shame and contrition.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me," he said, the old light coming back into his eyes so +strongly that she quivered for an instant before lowering her own. "I +hate that confounded puppy," he explained lamely, guarding his voice +with a new care. "If you felt as I do, you would too."</p> + +<p>She laughed in the old way, but she was not soon to forget that moment +when panic was so imminent.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't see how anyone can help liking Freddie," she said, without +actually knowing why. He stared hard at the Danube below. After a long +silence he said,—</p> + +<p>"It's all tommy-rot about it being blue, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>She was also looking at the dark brown, swollen river that has been +immortalised in song.</p> + +<p>"It's never blue. It's always a yellow-ochre, it seems to me."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>He waited a long time before venturing to express the thought that of +late had been troubling him seriously.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you truly realise the difficulty Edith will have in +satisfying an incredulous world with her absolutely truthful story. +She'll have to explain, you know. There's bound to be a sceptic or two, +my dear Constance."</p> + +<p>"But there's Roxbury," she protested, her face clouding nevertheless. +"<i>He</i> will set everything right."</p> + +<p>"The world will say he is a gullible fool," said he gently. "And the +world always laughs at, not with, a fool. Alas, my dear sister, it's a +very deep pool we're in." He leaned closer and allowed a quaint, +half-bantering, wholly diffident smile to cross his face. "I—I'm afraid +that you are the only being on earth who can make the story thoroughly +plausible."</p> + +<p>"I?" she demanded quickly. Their eyes met, and the wonder suddenly left +hers. She blushed furiously. "Nonsense!" she said, and abruptly left him +to take a seat beside Katherine Rodney. He found small comfort in the +whisperings and titterings that came, willy-nilly, to his burning ears +from the corner of the compartment. He had a disquieting impression that +they were discussing him; it was forced in upon him that being a +brother-in-law is not an enviable occupation.</p> + +<p>"Wot?" he asked, almost fiercely, after the insistent Freddie had thrice +repeated a question.</p> + +<p>"I say, will you have a cigaret?" half shouted Freddie, exasperated.</p> + +<p>"Oh! No, thanks. The train makes such a beastly racket, don't you know."</p> + +<p>"They told me at the Bristol you were deaf, but—Oh, I say, old man, I'm +sorry. Which ear is it?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>"The one next to you," replied Brock, recovering from his confusion. "I +hear perfectly well with the other one."</p> + +<p>"Yes," drawled Freddie, with a wink, "so I've observed." After a +reflective silence the young man ventured the interesting conclusion, +"She's a stunning girl, all right." Brock looked polite askance. "By +Jove, I'm glad she isn't <i>my</i> sister-in-law."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I'm expected to ask why," frigidly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Because, if she was, I <i>couldn't</i>. Do you get the point?" He +crossed his legs and looked insupportably sure of himself.</p> + +<p>They reached Munich late in the afternoon and went at once to the Hotel +Vier Jahretzeiten, where they were to find the Odell-Carneys.</p> + +<p>Mr. Odell-Carney was a middle-aged Englishman of the extremely +uninitiative type. He was tall and narrow and distant, far beyond what +is commonly accepted as <i>blasé</i>; indeed, he was especially slow of +speech, even for an Englishman, quite as if it were an everlasting +question with him whether it was worth while to speak at all. One had +the feeling when listening to Mr. Odell-Carney that he was being +favoured beyond words; it took him so long to say anything, that, if one +were but moderately bright, he could finish the sentence mentally some +little time in advance of the speaker, and thus be prepared to properly +appreciate that which otherwise might have puzzled him considerably. It +could not be said, however, that Mr. Odell-Carney was ponderous; he was +merely the effectual result of delay. Perhaps it is safe to agree with +those who knew him best; they maintained that Odell-Carney was a pose, +nothing more.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>His wife was quite the opposite in nearly every particular, except +height and angularity. She was bony and red-faced and opinionated. A few +sallow years with a rapid, profligate nobleman had brought her, in +widowhood, to a fine sense of appreciation of the slow-going though +tiresomely unpractical men of the Odell-Carney type. It mattered little +that he made poor investment of the money she had sequestered from his +lordship; he had kept her in the foreground by associating himself with +every big venture that interested the financial smart set. +Notwithstanding the fact that he never was known to have any money, he +was looked upon as a financier of the highest order. Which is saying a +great deal in these unfeeling days of pounds and shillings.</p> + +<p>Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney was dressed as all rangy, long-limbed +Englishwomen are prone to dress,—after a model peculiarly not her own. +She looked ridiculously ungraceful alongside the smart, chic American +women, and yet not one of them but would have given her boots to be able +to array herself as one of these. There was no denying the fact that +Mrs. Odell-Carney was a "regular tip-topper," as Mr. Rodney was only too +eager to say. She had the air of a born leader; that is to say, she +could be gracious when occasion demanded, without being patronising.</p> + +<p>In due course of time the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler were presented to +the distinguished couple. This function was necessarily delayed until +Odell-Carney had time to go into the details of a particularly annoying +episode of the afternoon. He was telling the story to his friend Rodney, +and of course everything was at a standstill until he got through.</p> + +<p>It seems that Mr. Odell-Carney felt the need of a nap <a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>at three o'clock. +He gave strict injunctions that there was to be no noise in the halls +while he slept, and then went into his room and stretched out. Anyone +who has stopped at the Hotel Four Seasons will have no difficulty in +recalling the electric hall-bells which serve to attract the +chambermaids to given spots. If one needs the chambermaid, he presses +the button in his room and a little bell in the hall tinkles furiously +until she responds and shuts it off. In that way one is sure that she +has heard and is coming, a most admirable bit of German ingenuity. If +she happens to be taking her lunch at the time, the bell goes on ringing +until she returns; it is a faithful bell. Coming back to Odell-Carney: +the maid on his floor was making up a room in close proximity when a +most annoying thing happened to her. A porter who had reason to dislike +her came along and turned her key from the outside, locking her in the +room. She couldn't get out, and she had been warned against making a +sound that might disturb the English guest. With rare intelligence, she +did not scream or make an outcry, but wisely proceeded to press the +button for a chambermaid. Then she evidently sat down to wait. To make +the story short, she rang her own call-bell for two hours, no other maid +condescending to notice the call, which speaks volumes for the almost +martial system of the hotel. The bell was opposite the narrator's door. +Is it, therefore, surprising that he required a great deal of time to +tell all that he felt? It was not so much of what he did that he spoke +at such great length, but of what he felt.</p> + +<p>"'Pon me soul," he exploded in the end, twisting his mustache with +nervous energy, "it was the demdest nap I ever had. I didn't close my +eyes, c'nfend me if I did."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>While Odell-Carney was studiously adjusting his eyeglass for a final +glare at an unoffending 'bus boy who almost dropped his tray of plates +in consequence, Mr. Rodney fussily intervened and introduced the +Medcrofts. Mrs. Odell-Carney was delightfully gracious; she was sure +that no nicer party could have been "got together." Her husband may have +been excessively slow in most things, but he was quick to recognise and +appreciate feminine beauty of face and figure. He unbent at once in the +presence of the unmistakably handsome Fowler sisters; his expressive +"chawmed" was in direct contrast to his ordinary manner of acknowledging +an introduction.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Medcroft is the famous architect, you know," explained the anxious +Mrs. Rodney.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know," drawled Mr. Odell-Carney. "You American architects +are doing great things, 'pon my soul," he added luminously. Brock stuck +his eyeglass in tighter and hemmed with raucous precision. Mrs. Medcroft +stiffened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but he's Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, the great English architect," cried +Mrs. Rodney, in some little confusion. Odell-Carney suddenly remembered. +He glared hard at Brock; the Rodneys saw signs of disaster.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by Jove, are <i>you</i> the fellow who put those new windows in the +Chaucer Memorial Hall? 'Pon me soul! Are you the man who did that?" +There was no mistaking his manner; he was distinctly annoyed.</p> + +<p>Brock faced the storm coolly, for his friend Medcroft's sake. "I am +Roxbury Medcroft, if that's what you mean, Mr. Odell-Carney."</p> + +<p>"I know you're Medcroft, but, hang it all, wot I asked was, did you +design those windows? 'Gad, sir, they're <a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>the laughing sensation of the +age. Where the devil did you get such ideas—eh, wot?" His wife had +calmly, diplomatically intervened.</p> + +<p>"I hate that man," said Mrs. Medcroft to her supposed husband a few +minutes later. There was a dangerous red in her cheeks, and she was +breathing quickly. Brock gave an embarrassed laugh and mentioned +something audibly about a "stupid ass."</p> + +<p>The entire party left on the following day for Innsbruck, where Mr. +Rodney already had reserved the better part of a whole floor for himself +and guests. Mr. Odell-Carney, before they left Munich, brought himself +to the point of apologising to Brock for his peppery remarks. He was +sorry and all that, and he hoped they'd be friends; but the windows were +atrocious, there was no getting around that. His wife smoothed it over +with Edith by confiding to her the lamentable truth that poor +Odell-Carney hadn't the remotest idea what he was talking about half of +the time. After carefully looking Edith over and finding her valuably +bright and attractive, she cordially expressed the hope that she would +come to see her in London.</p> + +<p>"We must know each other better, my dear Mrs. Medcroft," she had said +amiably. Edith thought of the famous drawing-rooms in Mayfair and +exulted vastly. "And Mr. Medcroft, too. I am so interested in men who +have a craft. They always are worth while, really, don't you know. How +like an American Mr. Medcroft is. I daresay he gets that from having +lived so long with an American wife. And what a darling baby! She's +wonderfully like Mr. Medcroft, don't you think? No one could mistake +that child's father—never! And, my dear," leaning close with a +whimsical air of confidence, "that's more than <a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>can be said of certain +children I know of in very good families."</p> + +<p>Edith may have gasped and looked wildly about in quest of help, but her +agitation went unnoticed by the new friend. From that momentous hour +Mrs. Medcroft encouraged an inordinate regard for the circumspect. She +decided that it was best never to be alone with her husband; the future +was now too precious to go unguarded for a single moment that might be +unexplainable when the triumphal hour of revelation came to hand. She +impressed this fact upon her sister, with the result that while Brock +was never alone with his prudent wife, he was seldom far from the side +of the adorable lieutenant. As if precociously providing for an ultimate +alibi, the fickle Tootles began to show unmistakable signs of aversion +for her temporary parent. Mrs. Rodney, being an old-fashioned mother, +could not reconcile herself to this unfilial attitude, and gravely +confided to her husband that she feared Medcroft was mistreating his +child behind their backs.</p> + +<p>"Well, the poodle likes him, anyway," protested Mr. Rodney, who liked +Brock; "and if a dog likes a man he's not altogether a bad lot. If I +were you, I wouldn't spread the report."</p> + +<p>"Spread it!" she sniffed indignantly. "Are they not my own cousins? +Twice removed," she concluded as an after-thought. "Do you imagine that +<i>I</i> would spread it? He may be an unnatural father, but I shall not be +the one to say so. Please bear that in mind, Alfred."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's not argue about it," said Mr. Rodney, departing before she +could disobey the injunction.</p> + +<p>Of course, there was no little confusion at the Hotel Tyrol when it came +to establishing the Medcrofts. For <a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>a while it looked as though Brock +would have to share a room with Tootles, relegating Burton to an alcove +and a couch; but Constance, in a strictly family conclave, was seized by +an inspiration which saved the day—or the night, more properly +speaking.</p> + +<p>"I have it, Roxbury," she cried, her eyes dancing. "You can sleep on the +balcony. A great many invalids do, you know."</p> + +<p>"But, good heaven, I'm not an invalid," he remonstrated feebly.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you're not, but can't you <i>say</i> you are? It's quite simple. +You sleep in the open air because it does your lungs so much good. Oh, I +know! It isn't necessary to expand your chest like that. They're +perfectly sound, I daresay. I should think you'd rather enjoy the fresh +air. Besides, there isn't a room to be had in the hotel."</p> + +<p>"But suppose it should rain!" he protested, knowing full well he was +doomed.</p> + +<p>"You poor boy, haven't you an umbrella?" she cried with such a perfectly +entrancing laugh that he would have slept out in a hailstorm to provide +recompense. And so it was settled that he was to sleep in the small +balcony just off the baby's luxurious room, the hotel people agreeing to +place a cot there at night in order to oblige the unfortunate guest with +the affected lung.</p> + +<p>"You are so dear and so agreeable, Roxbury," purred Mrs. Medcroft, very +much relieved. "If ever I hear of a girl looking for a nice husband, +I'll recommend you."</p> + +<p>"It's all very nice," said he with a wry grin, "but I'm hanged if I +ought to be expected to remember all of my accomplishments." They were +sitting in her room, at<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>tended by the faithful duenna, Constance. +"First, the eyeglass; then the English language, with which I find I'm +most unfamiliar; then a deafness in one of my ears—I can't remember +which until it's too late; and now I'm to be a tubercular. You've no +idea how hard it is for me to speak English against Odell-Carney. I'm an +out-and-out amateur beside him. And it's horribly annoying to have +Ulstervelt shouting in my ear loud enough for everybody in the +dining-room to hear. It's rich, I tell you, and if I didn't love you so +devotedly, Edith, I'd be on my way at this very instant. There! I feel +better. 'On my way' is the first American line I've had in the farce +since we left Stuttgart. By the way, Edith, I'm afraid I'll have to +punch Odell-Carney's confounded head before long. He's getting to be so +friendly to me as Roxbury Medcroft that I can't endure him as Brock."</p> + +<p>"I—I don't understand," murmured Edith plaintively. Constance looked up +with a new interest in her ever sprightly face.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, he's working so hard to square himself with Medcroft for +the break he made about the windows, that he's taking his spite out on +all American architects. Confound him, he persists in saying I'm all +right, but God deliver him from those demmed rotters, the American +builders. He says he wouldn't let one of us build a hencoop for him, +much less a dog kennel. Oh, I say, Connie, don't laugh! How would you +like it if—" But both of them were laughing at him so merrily that he +joined them at once. Burton and O'Brien, who had come in, were smiling +discreetly.</p> + +<p>"Come, Roxbury, what do you say to a good long walk?" cried Constance. +"I must talk to you seriously <a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>about a great many things, beginning with +egotism." He set forth with alacrity, rejoicing in spite of his +limitations.</p> + +<p>Upon their return from the delightful stroll along the mountain side, +she went at once to her room to dress for dinner. Brock, more deeply in +love than ever before, lighted a cigar and seated himself in the +gallery, dubiously retrospective in his meditations. He was sorely +disturbed by her almost constant allusion to Freddie Ulstervelt and his +"amazingly attractive ways." Was it possible that she could be really in +love with that insignificant little whipper-snapper? He seemed to be +propounding this doleful question to the lofty, sphinx-like +Waldraster-Spitze, looming dark in the path of the south.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" exclaimed a voice close to his ear,—the fresh, confident voice +that he knew so well. "I've been looking for you everywhere." Freddie +drew up a chair and sat down at his "good side." The young man appeared +to have something weighty on his mind. Brock shifted uneasily. "I want +to put it up to you, Mr. Medcroft, as man to man. You are Connie's +brother-in-law and you ought to be able to set me straight."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I see," said Brock vaguely.</p> + +<p>"You do?" queried the other, surprise and doubt in his face.</p> + +<p>"No, I should say I don't, don't you see," substituted Brock.</p> + +<p>"I was wondering how you <i>could</i> have seen. It's a matter I haven't +discussed with anyone. I've come to have a liking for you, Roxbury. +You're my sort; you have a sort of New York feeling about you. I'm sure +you're enough of a sport to give me unprejudiced advice. Hands across +the sea, see? Well, to get right down to the <a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>point, old man,—you'll +pardon my plain speech,—I think Constance ought to marry an American."</p> + +<p>Brock sat up very straight. "I think that's—that's a matter for Miss +Fowler to determine," he said coldly.</p> + +<p>"You don't quite get my meaning," persisted Freddie, crossing his legs +comfortably. "I was trying to make it easy for myself."</p> + +<p>"You mean, you think she ought to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"That's it, precisely. How clever you are."</p> + +<p>"But you are said to be engaged to Miss Rodney," ventured Brock, feeling +his way.</p> + +<p>"That's just the point, Mr. Medcroft. We're not really engaged—but +almost. As a matter of fact, we've got to the point where it's really up +to me to speak to her father about it, don't you know. Luckily, I +haven't."</p> + +<p>"Luckily?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That would have committed me, don't you see. I've been tentatively +engaged more than a dozen times, but never quite up to the girl's +father. Now, I don't mind telling you that I've changed my mind about +Katherine. She's a jolly good sort, but she's not just <i>my</i> sort. I +thought she was, but—well, you know how it is yourself. The heart's a +damned queer organ. Mine has gone back to Constance in the last two +days. You are her brother-in-law, and you're a good fellow, through and +through. I want your help. I've got money to burn, and the family's got +position in the States. I can take care of her as she should be taken +care of. No little old six-room flat for her. But, of course, you +understand, I can't quite carry the thing through with Katherine still +feeling herself attached, as it were. The thing to decide is this: how +best can I let Katherine down easily and take on Connie <a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>without putting +myself in a rather hazardous position? I'm a gentleman, you see, and I +can't do anything downright rotten. It wouldn't do. I'm sure, in her +heart, Connie cares for me. I could make her understand me better if I +had half the chance. But a fellow can't get near her nowadays. Don't you +think you are carrying the family link too far? Now, what I want to ask +of you, as a friend, is this: will you put in a good word for me every +chance you get? I'll square myself with Katherine all right. Of course, +you'll understand, I don't want to actually break with Katherine until +I'm reasonably sure of Constance. I'm a guest of the Rodney family, you +see. It would be downright indecent of me. No, sir! I'm not that sort. I +shouldn't think of ending it all with Katherine so long as we are both +guests of her father. I'd wait until the end of next week."</p> + +<p>Brock had listened in utter amazement to the opening portion of this +ingenuous proposal. As the flexile youth progressed, amazement gave +place to indignation and then to disgust. Brock's brow grew dark; the +impulse to pull his countryman's nose was hard to overcome. Never in all +his life had he listened to such a frankly cold-blooded argument as that +put forth by the insufferable Knicker-bocker. In the end the big New +Yorker saw only the laughable side of the little New Yorker's plight. +After all, he was a harmless egoist, from whom no girl could expect much +in the way of recompense. It mattered little who the girl of the moment +might be, she could not hope to or even seek to hold his perambulatory +affections. "He's a single example of a great New York class," reflected +Brock. "The futile, priggish rich! There are thousands like him in my +dear New York—conscienceless, invertebrate, syb<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>aritic sons of +idleness, college-bred and under-bred little beasts who can buy and then +cast off at their pleasure. They have no means of knowing how to fall in +love with a good girl. They have not been trained to it. It is not for +their scrambled intellects to discriminate between the chorus-girl brand +of attack and the subtle wooing of a gentlewoman. They can't +analyse—they can't feel! And this insipid, egotistical little bounder +is actually sitting there and asking me to help him with the girl I +love! Good Lord, what next?" He surveyed the eager Ulstervelt in the +most irritating manner, finally laughing outright in his face. The very +thought of him as Connie's accepted lover! She, the adorable, the +splendid, the unapproachable! It was excruciatingly funny!</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, old man," cried Freddie, when the disconcerting laugh came, +"don't laugh! It's no damned joke."</p> + +<p>"'Pon my soul, Ulstervelt," apologised Brock, with a magnanimous smile, +"I haven't said it was a joke. You—"</p> + +<p>"Then, what are you laughing at? Something you heard yesterday?" with +fine scorn. Brock stared hard at the flushed, boyish face of the other; +it was weak and yet as hard as brass, hard with the overbearing +confidence of the spoiled child of wealth.</p> + +<p>"See here, Ulstervelt," he said with sudden coldness, "you're asking my +help. That's no way to get it."</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon! I don't mean to be rude," apologised Freddie. "But, I +say, old man, I'll make it worth your while. My father's got stacks of +coin, and he's a power in New York. Odell-Carney's right. American +architects can't design good hencoops. What we want in New York <a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>is a +rattling good, up-to-date Englishman or two to show 'em a few things. +They're a lot of muckers over there, take it from me. By Jove, Roxbury, +you don't know how I'd appreciate your friendship in this matter. It +will simplify things immensely. You'll speak a good word for me when the +time comes, now, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"You want me to do you a good turn," said Brock slowly. He found himself +grinning with a malicious joy. "All right, I'll see to it that Miss +Rodney doesn't marry you, my boy. I'll attend to her."</p> + +<p>"Just a minute," interrupted Freddie quickly. "Don't be too hasty about +that. I want to be sure of Constance first."</p> + +<p>"I see. I was just about to add that I'll give Constance a strong hint +that one of the most gallant young sparks in New York is likely to +propose to her before the end of the week. That will—"</p> + +<p>"Heavens!" exclaimed Freddie, in disgust. "You needn't do that. I've +already proposed to her five or six times."</p> + +<p>"And she—she is undecided?" cried Brock, his eyes darkening.</p> + +<p>"No, hang it all, she's <i>not</i> undecided. She's said <i>no</i> every time. +That's why I'm up a tree, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" was all that Brock said. Of course she couldn't love a creature of +Freddie's stamp! He gloated!</p> + +<p>"'Gad, you're a lucky dog, Roxbury," went on Freddie enviously. "Money +isn't everything. You're married to one of the prettiest and most +fascinating women in the world. She's a wonder. You can't blame me for +wanting your wife as a sister-in-law. Now, can you? And that kid! You +lucky dog!"</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-5.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<h4>THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY.</h4> + + +<p>Brock discovered in due time that he was living in a lofty but uncertain +place, among the clouds of exaltation. It was not until the close of the +succeeding day that he began to lower himself grudgingly from the height +to which Freddie's ill-mannered confession had led him. By that time he +satisfactorily had convinced himself that no one but a fool could have +suspected Constance of being in love with Ulstervelt; and yet, on the +other hand, was he any better off for this cheerful argument? There was +nothing to prove that she cared for him, notwithstanding this agreeable +conclusion by contrast. As a matter of fact, he came earthward with a +rush, weighted down by the conviction that she did not care a rap for +him except as a conveniently moral brother-in-law. He was further +distressed by Edith's comfortless, though perhaps well-qualified, +announcement that she believed her sister to be in love; she could not +imagine with whom; she only knew she "acted as if she were."</p> + +<p>"Besides, Roxbury," she said warningly, "it's a most degenerate husband +who falls in love with his wife's sister."</p> + +<p>They were walking in one of the mountain paths, some distance behind the +others. They did not know that Mrs. Odell-Carney had stopped to rest in +the leafy niche above <a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>the path. She was lazily fanning herself on the +stone seat that man had provided as an improvement to nature. Being a +sharp-eared person with a London drawing-room instinct, she plainly +could hear what they were saying as they approached. These were the +first words she fully grasped, and they caused her to prick up her ears:</p> + +<p>"I don't give a hang, Edith. I'm tired of being her brother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"You're tired of me, Roxbury, that's what it is," in plaintive tones.</p> + +<p>"You're happy, you love and are loved, so please don't put it that way. +It's not fair. Think of the pitiable position I'm in."</p> + +<p>"My dear Roxbury," quite severely, "if there's nothing else that will +influence you, just stop to consider the che-ild! There's Tootles, dear +Tootles, to think of."</p> + +<p>Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney could not be expected to know that Edith was +blithely jesting.</p> + +<p>"My dear Edith," he said, just as firmly "Tootles has nothing to do with +the case. You know, and Constance knows, and I know, and the whole world +will soon know that I'm not even related to her, poor little beggar. I +don't see why she should come between me and happiness just because she +happens to bear a social resemblance to a man who isn't her father. +Come, now, let's talk over the situation sensibly."</p> + +<p>Just then they passed beyond the hearing of the astonished eavesdropper. +Good heaven, what was this? Not his child? Two minutes later Mrs. +Odell-Carney was back at the spring where they had left her somnolent +husband, who had refused to climb a hill because all of his breath was +required to smoke a cigaret.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>"Carney," she said sternly, her lips rigid, her eyes set hard upon his +face, "how long have the Medcrofts been married?"</p> + +<p>He blinked heavily. "How the devil should I know? 'Pon me word, it's—"</p> + +<p>"Four years, I think Mrs. Rodney told me. How old is that baby?"</p> + +<p>"'Pon me soul, Agatha, I'm as much in the dark as you. I don't know."</p> + +<p>"A little over a year, I'd say. Well, I just heard Medcroft say that she +wasn't his child. Whose is it?" She stood there like an accusing angel. +He started violently, and his jaw dropped; an expression of alarmed +protest leaped into his listless eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Pon me word, Agatha, how the devil should I know? Don't look at me +like that. Give you my word of honour, I don't know the woman. 'Pon me +soul, I don't, my dear."</p> + +<p>He was very much in earnest, thoroughly aroused by what seemed to be a +direct insinuation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be stupid," she cried. "Good heavens, can there be a scandal +in that lovely woman's life?"</p> + +<p>"There's never any scandal in a woman's life unless she's reasonably +lovely," remarked he.</p> + +<p>"Whose child is she, if she isn't Medcroft's?" she pursued with a +perplexed frown.</p> + +<p>"Demme, Agatha, don't ask me," he said irritably, passing his hand over +his brow. "I've told you that twice. Ask them; I daresay they know."</p> + +<p>She looked at him in disgust. "As if I could do such a thing as that! +Dear me, I don't understand it at all. Four years married. Yes, I'm sure +that's it. Carney, you <a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>don't suppose—" She hesitated. It was not +necessary to complete the obvious question.</p> + +<p>"Agatha," said he, weighing his remark carefully, "I've said all along +that Medcroft is a fool. Take those windows, for instance. If he—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, rubbish! What have the windows to do with it? You are positively +stupid. And I'd come to like her too. Yes, I'd even asked her to come +and see me." She was really distressed.</p> + +<p>"And why not?" he demanded. "Hang it all, Agatha, it's nothing unusual. +She's a jolly good sort and a sight too good for Medcroft. He's a stupid +ass. I've said so all along. How the devil she ever married him, I can't +see. But, by Jove, Agatha, I can readily see how she might have loved +the father of this child, no matter who he is. Take my advice, my dear, +and don't be harsh in your judgment. Don't say a word about what you've +heard. If they are reconciled to the—er—the situation, why the devil +should we give a hang? And, above all, don't let these Rodneys suspect." +Here he lowered his voice gradually. "They're a pack of rotters and they +couldn't understand. They'd cut her, even if she is a cousin or whatever +it is. I've give a year or two of my life to know positively whether +Rodney intends taking those shares or not." He said it in contemplative +delight in what he would do if it were definitely settled. "I can't +stand them much longer."</p> + +<p>"What great variety of Americans there are," she reflected. "Mrs. +Medcroft and her sister are Americans. Compare them with the Rodneys and +Mr. Ulstervelt. No, Carney, I'll not start a scandal. The Rodneys would +not understand, as you say. They'd tear her to shreds and <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>gloat over +the mutilation. No; we'll have her to see us in London. I like her."</p> + +<p>"And, by Jove, Agatha, I like her sister."</p> + +<p>"My dear, the baby is a darling."</p> + +<p>"But what an ass Medcroft is!"</p> + +<p>And thus is it proved that Mrs. Odell-Carney was not only a dutiful wife +in taking her husband into her confidence, but also that jointly they +enjoyed a peculiarly rational outlook upon the world as they had come to +know it and to feel for the people thereof. It is of small consequence +that they could not find it in their power to be in tune with the +virtuous Rodneys: the Rodneys were conditions, not effects.</p> + +<p>However that may be, it was Katherine Rodney, pretty, plump, and +spoiled, who pulled the first stone from the foundation of Medcroft's +house of cards. Katherine had convinced herself that she was deeply +enamoured of the volatile Freddie; the more she thought that she loved +him, the greater became the conviction that he did not care as much for +her as he professed. She began to detect a decided falling off in his +ardour; it was no use trying to hide the fact from herself that +Constance was the most disturbing symptom in evidence. Jealousy +succeeded speculation. Katherine decided to be hateful; she could not +have helped it if she had tried.</p> + +<p>It was very evident, to her at least, that Freddie was not to blame; he +was being led on by the artful Miss Fowler. There could be no doubt of +it—none in the least, declared Miss Rodney in the privacy of her own +miserable reflections.</p> + +<p>Just as she was on the point of carrying her woes to her mother, an +astounding revelation came to her out of a clear <a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>sky; an entirely new +condition came into the problem. It dawned upon her suddenly, without +warning, that Roxbury Medcroft was in love with his sister-in-law!</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/img-087.jpg"><img src="images/img-087-tb.jpg" alt="She began to detect a decided falling off in his ardour." title="She began to detect a decided falling off in his ardour." /></a></div> +<p class="caption">She began to detect a decided falling off in his ardour.</p> + +<p>When she burst in upon her mother, half an hour later, that excellent +lady started up from her couch, alarmed by the excitement in her +daughter's face. Mrs. Rodney, good soul, was one of the kind who always +think the world is coming to an end, or the house is on fire, or the +king has been assassinated, if any one approaches with a look of +distress in his face.</p> + +<p>"My dear, my dear!" she cried, as Katherine stopped tragically in the +doorway. "What has happened to your father? Speak!"</p> + +<p>"Mamma, it's worse than that! I—"</p> + +<p>"Merciful heaven!" The good lady blindly reached for her smelling salts.</p> + +<p>"I've made a dreadful discovery," went on Katherine in suppressed tones. +"It came to me like a flash. I couldn't believe my own brain. So I +watched them from my window. There's no doubt about it, mamma. It's as +plain as the nose on your face. He—"</p> + +<p>"My darling, what are you talking about? Is my nose—what is the matter +with my nose?" She vaguely felt of her nose in horror.</p> + +<p>"He's in love with her. There's no mistake. And, will you believe me, +mamma, she is <i>encouraging</i> him! Positively! Why—why, it's utterly +contemptible! Oh, dear, what are we to do?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rodney looked blankly at her daughter, who had thrown herself in a +chair. She gasped and then gave vent to a tremulous squeak.</p> + +<p>"In love! Your father? With whom—who is she?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>"Father? Oh, Lord, mother, I didn't say anything about father. Don't +cry! It's another man altogether."</p> + +<p>"Not Freddie Ulstervelt?" quavered Mrs. Rodney, pulling herself +together. "After all he has said to you—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, mamma," cried her daughter irritably. "Freddie may be in love +with her, but he's not the only one. Mamma!" She straightened up and +looked at her mother with wide, horror-struck eyes, "Roxbury Medcroft is +madly in love with Constance Fowler!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rodney did not utter a sound for fully a minute and a half. She +never took her eyes from her daughter's distressed face. The colour was +coming back into her own, and her lips were setting themselves into thin +red lines above her rigid chin.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Katherine, that you have seen it too. I have suspected it +for several days. But I have not dared to speak—it seemed too +improbable. What are we to do?" She sat down suddenly, even weakly.</p> + +<p>"She's not only leading Freddie on, but she's flirting with her own +brother-in-law—her own sister's husband—her—her—"</p> + +<p>"Her own niece's father! It's atrocious!"</p> + +<p>"She's a horrid beast! And I <i>thought</i> I loved her. Oh, mamma, it's just +dreadful!"</p> + +<p>"Katherine, control yourself. I will not have you upsetting yourself +like this. You'll have another of those awful headaches. Leave it all to +me, dear. Something <i>must</i> be done. We can't stand by and see dear Edith +betrayed. She's so happy and so trusting. And, besides all that, we'd be +dragged into the scandal. I—"</p> + +<p>"And the Odell-Carneys too. Heavens!"</p> + +<p>"It <i>must</i> be stopped! I shall go at once to Mrs. Odell-<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>Carney and tell +her what we have discovered. It will prepare her. She is the best friend +I have, and I know she will suggest a way to put a stop to this thing +before it is too late. We must—"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak to father about it first?"</p> + +<p>"Your father! My dear, what would be the use? He wouldn't believe it. He +never does. I wonder if dear Mrs. Odell-Carney is in her room." The +estimable lady fluttered loosely toward the door. Her daughter called to +her.</p> + +<p>"If I were you, I'd wait a day or two, mamma." She was quite cool and +very calculating now. "It may adjust itself, and—and if we can just +drop a hint that we suspect, they won't be so—so—well, so public about +it. I <i>know</i>—I just <i>know</i> that Freddie will be disgusted with her if +he sees how she's carrying on." Katherine suddenly had realised that +good might spring from evil, after all.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, young Mr. Ulstervelt was having troubles and +disappointments of his own. Persistent effort to make love to Miss +Fowler had finally resulted in an almost peremptory command to desist. +An unlucky impulse to hold her hand during one of his attempts to "try +her out" met with disaster. Miss Fowler snatched her hand away and, with +a look he never forgot, abruptly left him. "It's all off with her," +ruminated Freddie, shivering slightly as an after effect of the icy +stare she had given him. "She's got it in for me, for some reason or +other. Wow! That was a frost! I feel it yet. Medcroft has played the +deuce helping me. I wonder if—— Hello! There's Katherine."</p> + +<p>Freddie did some rapid-fire thinking in the next half-minute, with the +result that Constance Fowler was banished forever from his calculations +and Katherine Rodney <a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>restored to her own. So long as he could not +possibly win Constance he figured that he might just as well devote +himself to the girl he was virtually engaged to marry. Freddie's was a +convenient and adaptable constancy. Miss Fowler out of sight was also +out of mind; he descended upon Katherine with all of the old ardour +shining in his eyes. It was soon after Miss Rodney's conference with her +mother, and the young lady was off for a walk in the town.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Katherine," called he, coming up from behind. "Shopping? Take me +along to carry the bundles. I want to begin now."</p> + +<p>It was Miss Rodney's fancy to receive his advances with disdain. She +assumed a most unfriendly manner.</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" with chilling irony. "And why, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>Freddie was taken aback. This was most unexpected.</p> + +<p>"Practice makes perfect," he said glibly. "Don't you want me to carry +'em, Kitty?" He said it almost tearfully.</p> + +<p>Katherine exulted inwardly. Outwardly she was very cool and very +baffling. "Please don't call me Kitty. I hate it."</p> + +<p>"It's a dear little name. That's what I'm going to call you when we +are—well, you know."</p> + +<p>"I <i>don't</i> know. What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now, Miss Rodney. Don't be so icy. What's up? Never +mind—don't tell me. I know. You're jealous of Connie." It was a bold +stroke and it had an immediate effect.</p> + +<p>"Jealous!" she scoffed, but her cheeks went red. "Not I, Freddie." She +considered for a second and then went on: "She's not in love with you. +You must be blind. She's crazy about Mr. Medcroft."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>"By Jove," exclaimed Freddie, stopping short, his eyes bulging. He +looked at her for a minute in silence, realisation sifting into his +face. "You're right! She <i>is</i> in love with him. I see it now. Well, what +do you think of that! Her brother-in-law!"</p> + +<p>"And he is in love with her too. Now you may go back to her and see if +you can't win her away from him. I shan't interfere, my dear Freddie. +Don't have me on your conscience. Good-by."</p> + +<p>She left him standing there in the street. With well-practised tact he +darted into a tobacconist's shop.</p> + +<p>"Another shake-down," he reflected ruefully. "They're all passing me up +to-day. But, great hooks, what's all this about Medcroft and Constance?" +He bought some cigarets and started off for a walk, mildly excited by +this new turn of affairs. It occurred to him, as he turned it all over +in his mind, that Mrs. Medcroft was amazingly resigned to the situation. +Of course, she was not blind to her husband's infatuation for her +sister. Therefore, if she were so cheerful and indifferent about it, it +followed that she was not especially distressed; in fact, it suddenly +dawned upon him she was not only reconciled but relieved. She had ceased +to love her husband! She could be a freelance in Love's lists, +notwithstanding the inconvenience of a legal attachment. "She's ripping, +too," concluded Freddie, with a certain buoyancy of spirit. "If she +doesn't love Medcroft, she at least ought to love someone else instead. +It's customary. I wonder—" Here he reflected deeply for an instant, his +spirits floating high. Then he turned abruptly and made his way to the +Tirol.</p> + +<p>It came to pass, in the course of the evening, that Mr. Ulstervelt, +supremely confident from the effect of past <a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>achievements, drew the +unsuspecting Mrs. Medcroft into a secluded tête-à-tête. It is not of +record that he was ever a diplomatic wooer; one in haste never is. +Suffice it to say, Mrs. Medcroft, her cheeks flaming, her eyes wide with +indignation, suddenly left the side of the indomitable Freddie and +joined the party at the other end of the <i>entresol</i>, but not before she +had said to him with unmistakable clearness and decision,—</p> + +<p>"You little wretch! How dare you say such silly things to me!"</p> + +<p>The rebuff decisive! And he had only meant to be comforting, not to say +self-sacrificing. He'd be hanged if he could understand women nowadays. +Not these women, at least. In high dudgeon he stalked from the room. In +the door he met Brock.</p> + +<p>"For two cents," he declared savagely, as if Brock were to blame, "I'd +take the next train for Paris."</p> + +<p>Brock watched him down the hall. He drew a handful of small coins from +his pocket, ruefully looking them over. "Two cents," he said. "Hang it +all, I've nothing here but pfennigs and hellers and centimes."</p> + +<p>In the course of his wanderings the disconsolate Freddie came upon Mrs. +Odell-Carney and pudgy Mr. Rodney. They were sitting in a quiet corner +of the reading-room. Mr. Rodney had had a hard day. He had climbed a +mountain—or, more accurately speaking, he had climbed half-way up and +then the same half down. He was very tired. Freddie observed from his +lonely station that Mr. Rodney was fast dropping to sleep, +notwithstanding his companion's rapid flow of small talk. It did not +take Freddie long to decide. He was an outcast and a pariah and he was +very lonely. He must have someone to talk <a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>to. Without more ado he bore +down upon the couple, and a moment later was tactfully advising the +sleepy Mr. Rodney to take himself off to bed,—advice which that +gentleman gladly accepted. And so it came about that Freddie sat face to +face with the last resort, at the foot of the <i>chaise-longue</i>, gazing +with serene adulation into the eyes of a woman who might have had a son +as old as he—if she had had one at all. She had been a coquette in her +salad days; there was no doubt of it. She had encountered fervid +gallants in all parts of the world and in all stations of life. But it +remained for the gallant Freddie Ulstervelt to bowl her over with +surprise for the first time in her long and varied career. At the end of +half an hour she pulled herself together and tapped him on the shoulder +with her fan, a quizzical smile on her lips.</p> + +<p>"My dear Mr. Ulstervelt, are you trying to make love to me? You nice +Americans! How gallant you can be. I am quite old enough to be your +mother. Believe me, I thank you for the compliment. I can't tell you how +I appreciate this delicate flattery. You are very delicious. But," as +she arose graciously, "I'd follow Mr. Rodney's example if I were you. +I'd go to bed." Then, with a rare smile which could not have been more +chilling, she left him standing there.</p> + +<p>"By Jove," he muttered, passing his hand across his eyes, as if +bewildered, "what was I saying to her? Good Lord, has it got to be a +habit with me? Was I making love to—<i>her</i>?" He departed for the +American bar.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rodney had but little sleep that night. She went to bed in a state +of worry and uncertainty, oppressed by the shadows which threatened +eternal darkness to the fair name of the family—however distantly +removed. Kath<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>erine's secret had in reality been news to her; she had +not paid enough attention to the Medcrofts to notice anything that they +did, so long as they did not do it in conjunction with the +Odell-Carneys. The Odell-Carneys were her horizon,—morning, noon, and +night. And now there was likelihood of that glorious horizon being +obscured by a sickening scandal in the vulgar foreground. Inspired by +Katherine's dreadful conclusions, the excellent lady set about to +observe for herself. During the entire evening she flitted about the +hotel and grounds with all the snooping instincts of a Sherlock Holmes. +She lurked, if that is not putting it too theatrically. From unexpected +nooks she emerged to view the landscape o'er; by devious paths she led +her doubts to the gates of absolute certainty, and then sat down to +shudder to her heart's content. It was all true! For four hours she had +been trying to get to the spot where she could see with her own eyes, +and at last she had come to it. Of course, she had to admit to herself +that she did not actually hear Mr. Medcroft tell Constance that he loved +her, but it was enough for her that he sat with her in the semi-darkness +for two unbroken hours, speaking in tones so low that they might just as +well have been whispering so far as her taut ears were concerned.</p> + +<p>Moreover, other persons than herself had smilingly nudged each other and +referred to the couple as lovers; no one seemed to doubt it—nor to +resent it, which is proof that the world loves a lover when it +recognises him as one.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rodney also discovered that Mrs. Medcroft went to her room at nine +o'clock, at least three hours before the subdued tête-à-tête came to an +end. The poor thing doubtless was crying her eyes out, decided Mrs. +Rodney.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>And now, after all this, is it to be considered surprising that the +distressed mother of Katherine did not sleep well that night? Nor should +her wakefulness be laid at the door of the tired Mr. Rodney, who was +ever a firm and stentorian sleeper.</p> + +<p>Morning came, and with it a horseback ride for Brock and Miss Fowler. +That was enough for Mrs. Rodney; she would hold in no longer. Mrs. +Odell-Carney must be told; she, at least, must have the chance to escape +before the storm of scandal broke to muddy her immaculate skirts. +Forthwith the considerate hostess appeared before her guest with a +headful of disclosures. She had decided in advance that it would not do +to beat about the bush, so to speak; she would come directly to the +obnoxious point.</p> + +<p>They were in Mrs. Odell-Carney's sitting-room. Mr. Odell-Carney was +smoking a cigaret on the balcony, just outside the window. Mrs. Rodney +did not know that he was there. It is only natural that he held himself +inhospitably aloof: Mrs. Rodney bored him to death. He did not hear all +that was poured out between them, but he heard quite enough to cause him +something of a pang. He distinctly heard his wife say things to Mrs. +Rodney that she had solemnly avowed she would not say,—things about the +Medcroft baby.</p> + +<p>It goes without saying that Mrs. Odell-Carney refused to be surprised by +the disclosures. She calmly admitted that she had suspected Medcroft of +being too fond of his sister-in-law, but, she went on cheerfully, why +not? His wife didn't care a rap for him—she <i>said</i> rap and nothing +else; Mrs. Medcroft had an affair of her own, dear child; she was not so +slow as Mrs. Rodney thought, oh, no. Mrs. Odell-Carney warmed up +considerably in defending <a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>the not-to-be-pitied Edith. She said she had +liked her from the beginning, and more than ever, now that she had +really come to the conclusion that her husband was the kind who sets his +wife an example by being a bit divaricating himself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rodney fairly screeched with horror when she heard that Tootles was +"a poor little beggar," and "all that sort of thing, you know."</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Mrs. Odell-Carney, hating herself all the time for +engaging in the spread of gossip, but femininely unable to withstand the +test, "your excellent cousin, Mrs. Medcroft, receives two letters a day +from London,—great, fat letters which take fifteen minutes to read in +spite of the fact that they are written in a perfectly huge hand by a +man—a man, d'ye hear? They're not from her husband. He's here. He +cannot have written them in London, don't you see? He—"</p> + +<p>"I see," inserted Mrs. Rodney, who was afraid that Mrs. Odell-Carney +might think she didn't see.</p> + +<p>"Mind your Mrs. Rodney, I'm terribly cut up about all this. She has—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew you would be," mourned Mrs. Rodney, her heart in her boots. +"You must just hate me for exposing you to—"</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" scoffed the other. "It isn't that. I've been through a dozen +affairs in which my best friends were frightfully—er—complicated. I +meant to say that I'm terribly cut up over poor Mrs. Medcroft. She's a +dear. Believe me, she's a most delicious sinner. Even Carney says that, +and he's very fastidious—and very loyal."</p> + +<p>"They are married in name only," said Mrs. Rodney, beginning to sniffle. +She looked up and smiled wanly <a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a>through her tears. "You know what I +mean. My grammar is terrible when I'm nervous." She pulled at her +handkerchief for a wavering moment. "Do you think I'd better speak to +Edith? We may be able to prevent the divorce."</p> + +<p>"Divorce, my dear," gasped Mrs. Odell-Carney incredulously.</p> + +<p>At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney emerged from his shell, so to speak. +He stalked through the window and confronted the two ladies, one of +whom, at least, was vastly dismayed by his sudden appearance.</p> + +<p>"Now, see here," he began without preliminary apology, "I won't hear of +a divorce. That's all rubbish—perfect rot, 'pon my soul. Wot's the use? +Hang it all, Mrs. Rodney, wot's the odds, so long as all parties are +contented? We can stand it, by Jove, if they can, don't you know. We +can't regulate the love affairs of the universe. Besides, I'm not going +to stand by and see a friend dragged into a thing of this sort—"</p> + +<p>"A friend, Carney," exclaimed his wife.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's possible, my dear, that he may be a friend. I know so many +chaps in London who might be doing this sort of thing, don't you know. +Who knows but the chap who's writing her these letters may be one of my +best friends? It doesn't pay to take a chance on it. I won't hear to it. +If Medcroft knows and his wife knows and Miss Fowler knows, why the +deuce should we bother our heads about it? Last night I heard the +Medcroft infant bawling its lungs out—teething, I daresay—but did I go +in and take a hand in straightening out the poor little beggar? Not I. +By the same token, why should I or anybody else presume to step in and +try to straighten out the troubles <a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>of its parents? It's useless +interference, either way you take it."</p> + +<p>"I think it's all very entertaining and diverting," said Mrs. +Odell-Carney carelessly. She yawned.</p> + +<p>"Do you really think so?" asked the doubting Mrs. Rodney. "I was so +afraid you'd mind. Your position in society, my dear Mrs.—"</p> + +<p>"My position in society, Mrs. Rodney, can weather the tempest you +predict," said Mrs. Odell-Carney with a smile that went to Mrs. Rodney's +marrow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if—if you really don't mind—" she mumbled apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, my dear madam," remarked Odell-Carney, carefully adjusting +his eyeglass. "It's quite immaterial, I assure you."</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-5.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<h4>OTHER RELATIONS.</h4> + + +<p>It is but natural to presume, after the foregoing, that the affairs of +the Medcrofts were under close and careful scrutiny from that +confidential hour. The Odell-Carneys were conspicuously nice and +agreeable to the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler. It may be said, indeed, that +Mr. Odell-Carney went considerably out of his way to be agreeable to +Mrs. Medcroft; so much so, in fact, that she made it a point to have +someone else with her whenever she seemed likely to be left alone with +him. The Rodneys struggled bravely and no doubt conscientiously to +emulate the example set by the Odell-Carneys, but it was hardly to be +expected that they could see new things through old-world eyes. They +grew very stiff and ceremonious,—that is, the Rodney ladies did. It was +their prerogative, of course: were they not cousins of the diseased?</p> + +<p>Four or five days of uneasy pretence passed with a swiftness that +irritated certain members of the party and a slowness that distressed +the others. Days never were so short as those which the now recklessly +infatuated Brock was spending. He was valiantly earning his way into the +heart of Constance,—a process that tried his patience exceedingly, for +she was blithely unimpressionable, if one were to judge by the calmness +with which she fended off the inevitable <a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>though tardy assault. She kept +him at arm's length; appearances demanded a discreetness, no matter how +she may secretly have felt toward the good-looking husband of her +sister. To say that she was enjoying herself would be putting it much +too tamely; she was revelling in the fun of the thing. It mattered +little to her that people—her own cousins in particular—were looking +upon her with cold and critical eyes; she knew, down in her heart, that +she could throw a bomb among them at any time by the mere utterance of a +single word. It mattered as little that Edith was beginning to chafe +miserably under the strain of waiting and deception; the novelty had +worn off for the wife of Roxbury; she was despairingly in love, and she +was pining for the day to come when she could laugh again with real +instead of simulated joyousness.</p> + +<p>"Connie, dear," she would lament a dozen times a day, "it's growing +unbearable. Oh, how I wish the three weeks were ended. Then I could have +my Roxbury, and you could have my other Roxbury, and everybody wouldn't +be pitying me and cavilling at you because I'm unhappily married."</p> + +<p>"Why do you say I could have your other Roxbury?" demanded her sister on +one occasion. "You forget that father expects me to marry the viscount. +I—"</p> + +<p>"You are so tiresome, Connie. Don't worry me with your love affairs—I +don't want to hear them. There's Mr. Brock waiting for you in the +garden."</p> + +<p>"I know it, my dear. He's been waiting for an hour. I think it is good +for him to wait," said the other, with airy confidence. "What does Roxy +say in his letter this morning?"</p> + +<p>"He says it will all be over in a day or two. Dear me, <a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>how I wish it +were over now! I can't endure Cousin Mary's snippishness much longer, +and as for Katherine! My dear, I hate that girl!"</p> + +<p>"She's been very nice lately, Edith—ever since Freddie dropped me so +completely. By the way, Burton was telling me to-day that Odell-Carney +had been asking her some very curious and staggering questions about +Tootles and your most private affairs."</p> + +<p>"I know, my dear," groaned Edith. "He very politely remarked to me last +night that Tootles made him think very strangely of a friend of his in +London. He wouldn't mention the fellow's name. He only smiled and said, +'Nevah mind, my dear, he's a c'nfended handsome dog.' I daresay he meant +that as a compliment for Tootles. She <i>is</i> pretty, don't you think so, +dear?"</p> + +<p>"She's just like you, Edith," said Constance, who understood things +quite clearly.</p> + +<p>"Then, in heaven's name, Connie, why are they staring at her so +impolitely—all of them?"</p> + +<p>"It's because she is so pretty. Goodness, Edith, don't let every little +thing worry you. You'll have wrinkles and grey hairs soon enough."</p> + +<p>"It's all very nice for you to talk," grumbled Edith. "I'm going mad +with loneliness. You have a lover near you all the time—he's mad about +you. What have I? I'm utterly alone. No one loves me—no, not a soul—"</p> + +<p>"You won't let them love you, Edith," said Constance jauntily. "They all +want to love you—all of them."</p> + +<p>"I hate men," announced Mrs. Medcroft, retrospectively.</p> + +<p>Developments of a most refractory character swooped down upon them at +the very end of the sojourn in Inns<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>bruck. Every one had begun to +rejoice in the fact that the fortnight was almost over, and that they +could go their different ways without having anything really regrettable +to carry away with them. The Rodneys were going to Paris, the Medcrofts +to London, the Odell-Carneys (after finding out where the others were +bent) to Ostend. Freddie Ulstervelt suddenly announced his determination +to remain at the Tirol for a week or two longer. That very day he had +been introduced to a Mademoiselle Le Brun, a fascinating young Parisian, +stopping at the Tirol with her mother.</p> + +<p>All might have ended well had it not been for the unfortunate +circumstance of Odell-Carney's making a purchase of the London +<i>Standard</i> instead of the <i>Times</i>, as was his custom. His lamentations +over this piece of stupidity were cut short by the discovery of an +astonishing article upon the editorial page of the paper—an article +which created within him a sense of grave perplexity. He read the +headlines thrice and glanced through the text twice, neither time with +any very definite idea of what he was reading. His fingers shook as he +held the sheet nearer the window for a final effort to untangle the +incredible thing that lay before him in simple, unimpeachable black and +white.</p> + +<p>"'Pon me word," he kept repeating to himself feebly. Then he got up and +went off in extreme haste to find his wife.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he said to her in the carriage-way, "I must speak with you +alone." She was just starting off for a drive with Mrs. Rodney.</p> + +<p>"Bad news, Carney?" she demanded, struck by his expression. She was +following him toward a remote corner of <a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>the approach. He did not reply +until they were seated, much nearer to each other than was their wont.</p> + +<p>"Read that," he said, slipping the <i>Standard</i> into her hands. "Wot do +you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Carney, I don't know. Would you mind telling me what I am to +read?"</p> + +<p>"The Medcroft thing. Right there."</p> + +<p>She read the article, her husband watching her face the while. Surprise, +incredulity, dismay, succeeded each other in rapid changes. She was +reading in sheer amazement of the doings of Roxbury Medcroft in +connection with the County Council's sub-committee—<i>in London</i>! The +story went on to relate how Medcroft, implacable leader of the +opposition to the "grafters," suddenly had appeared before the committee +with the most astounding figures and facts to support his charges of +rottenness on the part of the "clique"; his unexpected descent upon the +scene had thrown the opposing leaders into a panic; every one had been +led to believe that he was sojourning in the east. As a matter of fact, +it was soon revealed, he had been in London, secretly working on the +problem, for nearly three weeks, keeping discreetly under cover in order +that his influence might not be thwarted. His array of facts, his bitter +arraignment of the men who were trying to force the building bill +through the Council, staggered the whole city of London. At that writing +it looked as though the bill would be overthrown, its promoters had been +so completely put to rout. The committee would be compelled to take +cognisance of the startling exposure—the people would demand a full +threshing out of the obnoxious deal. Roxbury Medcroft's name was on +every one's lips. The <i>Standard</i> had profited by securing a great +"beat."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>The Odell-Carneys looked at each other in wonder and perplexity. "What +does it mean?" asked the lady, her eyes narrowing.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Agatha, this paper's at least two days old. Now, how the +devil can Medcroft be in London and Innsbruck at the same time. He <i>was</i> +here day before yesterday, wasn't he? I'm so c'nfended unobserving—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, he was here. And this paper—" She paused irresolutely.</p> + +<p>"Says he was <i>there</i>. 'Pon my word, it's most uncanny. There's some +mystery here."</p> + +<p>"I've got it, Carney! This is not Roxbury Medcroft."</p> + +<p>"Good Gawd!"</p> + +<p>"This explains everything. Heavens, Carney! This fellow is—is her +lover! She's running about the country with him. She's—"</p> + +<p>"Her lover? 'Gad, my dear, he may have been so at one time, but he's the +other one's lover now, take my word for it. I say, 'pon my soul, this is +a charming game your friends the Rodneys have let us into. They—"</p> + +<p>"My friends! Yours, you mean!" she retorted.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now! But let it go at that. They know, of course, that this +fellow isn't her husband, and yet, by Gad, Agatha, they've gone about +deliberately palming him off on us as the real article. They are +actually sanctioning the whole bloody—"</p> + +<p>"Stop a moment, Carney," interrupted his wife. "The London chap may be +the fraud. Let us go slow, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Slow? How the devil can we go slow in such fast company? No! This +fellow is the fraud. And they knew it too. They all know it. They—"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>"Rubbish! You forget that the whole Rodney tribe is up in arms because +Medcroft is making love to his wife's sister. They're not assuming +anything there, let me tell you. And he's not Edith's lover. If he's not +her husband, he's playing a part that she understands and approves. And +this—this, my dear Carney, may account for the imaginary orphanage of +Tootles. Dear me, it's quite a tangle."</p> + +<p>"I shall telegraph my solicitors at once for definite news. They'll know +whether the real Medcroft is in London, and then—well, by Jove, Agatha, +I can't tell just wot steps I'll take in regard to these Rodneys."</p> + +<p>He went into a long tirade against the unfortunate Seattle-ites, as he +called them. "Understand me, Agatha, I don't blame Mrs. Medcroft. If +she's having an affair with this chap and can pull the wool—"</p> + +<p>"But she isn't having an affair with this chap," cried Mrs. +Odell-Carney, her patience exhausted. "She's having an affair with a +chap in London—the one who writes—Good gracious! Of course! Why, what +fools we are. The real Medcroft is in London, and it is he who is +writing the letters. How stupid of me!"</p> + +<p>"Aha!" exclaimed he triumphantly. "Of course, she's getting letters from +her husband. Why not? That's to be expected. But, by the everlasting +shagpat, do you suppose that her husband knows she's off here with +another fellow who masquerades as her husband? No!" He almost shouted +it. "I've never heard of anything so brazen. 'Gad, what nerve these +Americans have. Just to think of it!"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she is anything of the sort," declared his wife. "She's +as good as gold. You can't fool me, Carney. I know women."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>"Deuce take it, Agatha, so do I. And wot's more, I know men."</p> + +<p>"They're a poor lot, the kind you know. This pseudo Medcroft is not your +kind. He's a very clever chap and a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Agatha, don't imagine that I'm going to be such a cad +as to turn against 'em in their hour of trial. Not I. I'm more their +friend than ever. I'll help 'em to get away from here, and I'll bulldose +these Rodneys into holding their peace forever after. It's the Rodney +duplicity that I can't stand."</p> + +<p>"Shall we stay here or shall we find an excuse to leave?" she asked +pointedly.</p> + +<p>"We'll stay long enough for me to tell the Rodneys wot I think of 'em, +I'll have an answer to my despatch by night. Then, I should advise you +to have a talk with Mrs. Medcroft. You've invited her to the house, you +know. Tell her there can't be two Medcrofts. See wot I mean? We'll see +'em through this, but—well, you understand."</p> + +<p>Meantime a telegram had preceded a lengthy letter into the department of +the police, both directed to Herr Bauer, who in reality was James +Githens, of Scotland Yard. The telegram had said: "Why do you say M. is +there? He is in London. Explain. Letter to-morrow." The letter had come, +and Mr. Githens, as well as the local police office, was "bowled over," +to express it in Scotland Yard English. He had wired his employers that +"M. is still in Innsbruck. Cannot be in London." It was very clearly set +forth in the letter that Roxbury Medcroft was in London, and that Mr. +Githens, of Scotland Yard, had betrayed his trust. He was virtually +charged with playing into the hands of the enemy,—"selling out," as it +were. It <a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>readily may be expected that Mr. Githens was accused of being +in the employ of the "opposition." Moreover, it is but reasonable to +assume that he took vigorous steps at once to vindicate himself: which +accounts for the woe that lurked close behind the heels of a man named +Brock.</p> + +<p>Brock and Constance had ridden off that afternoon to visit the historic +Schloss Ambras. The great castle had been saved for the very last of +their explorations; he had just been able to secure permission to visit +that part of the Duke's residence open on certain occasions to the +curious public. Edith had declined to accompany them. In the first +place, she was expecting the all-important message from her husband—she +was "on nettles," to quote her plaintive eagerness; in the second place, +she realised that as the crisis was at hand in the affairs of Brock and +Constance, her presence was not a necessary adjunct. Not only was she +expecting a message from Roxbury, but eagerly anticipating an outburst +of joyous news from the two who had, it seemed, very gladly left her +behind.</p> + +<p>The young couple, returning by the lower road from the Schloss, came to +a resting place at a little eating-house and garden on the hillside +overlooking the river Inn. It is a quiet, demure, unfrequented place +among the crags, standing in from the white roadway a hundred feet or +more, clouded by gorgeous trees and sombre cliffs. It was to this +charming, romantic retreat that Brock led his fair, now tremulous +inamorata. She, too, knew that the hour for decision had come; it was in +the air, in the glint of his eyes, in the leaping of her heart. And she +knew what she would say to him, and what they would say to the world a +few hours hence. The mountains seemed to have lost their splendid frown; +they were beaming down upon her, <a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>tenderly caressing instead of bleak +and foreboding as they always had been before.</p> + +<p>A rosy-cheeked girl came into the garden to serve them. Swift, cool +breezes were scurrying down the valley, bearing in their wake the soft +rain clouds that were soon to drench the earth and then radiantly pass +on. They were quite alone, seated in the shelter of a wide, overhanging +portico. A soft, green darkness was creeping over the mountainside, +pregnant with smell of the shower.</p> + +<p>Constance ordered tea and a bite of something to eat for both. Brock's +gaze never left her exquisite face while she was engaged in the pretty +but rather self-conscious occupation of instructing the waitress. After +the girl had departed, he leaned forward across the little table and +said, a trifle hoarsely and disjointedly,—</p> + +<p>"It was most appetising to watch you do that. I could live forever on +nothing but tea and sandwiches if you were to order them."</p> + +<p>"You've said a great many silly things to me this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"I wonder—" he stopped and lowered his voice—"I wonder if you would +call it silly if I were to tell you that I love you, very, very much." +His gloved hand dropped upon hers as she fumbled aimlessly with the menu +card; something in the very helplessness of that long slim hand drew the +strength of all his love toward it—all of this confident, arrogant love +that had come to be so sure of itself in these last days. His grey eyes, +dark with the purpose of his passion, took on a new and impelling glow; +she looked into them for an instant, the wavering smile of last resort +on her parted lips; then her lids dropped quickly and her lip trembled.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>"I should still think you very silly," she said in a very low voice, +"unless—unless you <i>do</i> love me."</p> + +<p>His fingers closed so tightly upon hers that she looked up, her eyes +swimming with tenderness. Neither spoke for a long minute, but words +were not needed to tell what the soul was saying through the eyes.</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i> love you—you know I do, Connie. I've loved you from the first +day. I cannot live without you, Connie, darling, you won't keep me +waiting? You will be my wife—you will marry me at once? You <i>do</i> love +me, I know—I've known it for days and days—"</p> + +<p>She whimsically broke in upon his passionate declaration, saying with a +pretty petulance: "Oh, you have? What insufferable conceit! I—"</p> + +<p>He laughed joyously. "I never was so sure of anything in my life," he +said. "You couldn't help loving me, Constance; I've loved you so. You +don't have to tell me, dear; I know. Still, I'd like to hear you say, +with those dear lips as well as with your eyes, that you love me."</p> + +<p>She put her hand upon the back of the broad one which held the other +imprisoned; there was a proud, earnest light in her eyes. "I <i>do</i> love +you," she said simply.</p> + +<p>"God, but I'm a happy man," he exulted. Forgetful of the time and the +place, he half arose and, leaning forward, kissed her full upon the +upturned lips.</p> + +<p>There was a rattling of chinaware behind them. In no little confusion +both came tumbling down from Paradise, and found themselves under the +abashed scrutiny of a very red-faced young serving-woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind," stammered Gretchen quite amiably. "I am used to that, +madame. A great many ladies and gentlemen come here to—to—what you +call it?" She <a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>placed the tea and sandwiches before them, her fingers +all thumbs, her cheeks aglow.</p> + +<p>Brock pulled himself together. Very sternly he said: "This young lady is +to be my wife."</p> + +<p>"Ach," said Gretchen, with a friendly smile and the utmost deference, +"that is what they all say, mein Herr." Then, giggling approvingly, she +bustled away.</p> + +<p>Brock waited until she was out of sight. "She seems to be onto us, as +Freddie would say. But what do we care? I'd like to stand on top of the +Bandjoch and shout the news to the world. Wouldn't you, dearest?"</p> + +<p>"The world wouldn't hear us, dear," she said coolly. "Besides, it's +raining up there. Just look at it sweeping down upon us! Goodness!"</p> + +<p>He laughed hilariously, amused by her attempt to be casual and +indifferent. "You can't turn it off so easily as that, dearest," he +cried. "Come! While it rains we may plan. You will marry me—to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she cried, aghast. "How utterly ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, day after to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No, no—nor week after next. I—"</p> + +<p>"See here, Connie, we've got some one else to consider as well as +ourselves. In order to square it all up for Edith, we must be able to +say to these people that we haven't been frivolling—that we are going +to be married at once. That will let Edith out of the difficulty, and +everything will look rosy at the outset. If we put it off, the world +will have said things in its ignorance that she can never refute, simply +because the world doesn't stop long enough to hear two sides of a story +unless they are given pretty closely together. Now Edith is counting on +us to put the peeping-Tom Rodneys and the charitable Carneys to rout +with <a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>our own little bombshell. They're saying nasty things about all +of us. They're calling you a vile thing for stealing your sister's +husband, and they're calling me a dog for what I'm doing. No telling +what they'll be saying if we don't step into the breach as soon as it is +opened. We can't afford to wait, no matter what Roxbury says when he +comes. We've just got to be able to forestall even dear old Roxbury. +Come! Don't you see? We must be married at once."</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/img-113.jpg"><img src="images/img-113-tb.jpg" alt="'I do love you,' she said simply." title="'I do love you,' she said simply." /></a></div> +<p class="caption">"I do love you," she said simply.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," she murmured softly, "what will papa say?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Constance, I will explain it all to your father when he gets +back from South America next winter."</p> + +<p>It was now raining in torrents. They moved back into the darkest recess +of their shelter, and blissfully looked out upon the drenched universe +with eyes that saw nothing but sweet sunshine and fair weather.</p> + +<p>The clattering of horses' hoofs upon the hard mountain road sounded +suddenly above the hiss of the rain-storm. It was quite dark by this +time, night having been hurried on by the lowering skies. A moment +later, three horsemen, drenched to the skin, drew up in front of the +inn, threw their reins over the posts, and dashed for shelter. They came +noisily into the arbour, growling and stamping their soggy feet.</p> + +<p>"What, ho!" called one of the newcomers, sticking his head through a +window of the house. Brock and Miss Fowler looked on, amused by the +plight of the riders. Two of them were unquestionably officers of the +police; the third seemed to be an Englishman. They were gruff, burly +fellows, all of them. For a few minutes they stormed and growled about +their miserable luck in being <a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>caught in the downpour, ordering schnapps +and brandy in large and instant quantities. At last the Englishman, a +heavy, sour-faced man, turned his gaze in the direction of the lovers, +who sat quite close together in the dark corner. His gaze developed into +a stare, then a look of triumph. A moment later he was pointing out the +couple to his companions, all three peering at them with excited eyes.</p> + +<p>Brock's face went red under the rude stare; he was on the point of +resenting it when the Englishman stepped forward. The American arose at +once.</p> + +<p>"I've been looking for you, Mr. Medcroft—if that is your name," said +the stranger, halting in front of the table. "My name is Githens, +Scotland Yard. These men have an order for your arrest. I'd advise you +to go with them peaceably. The young woman will not be bothered. She is +free to go."</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" demanded Brock angrily. Suddenly he felt a +chill of misgiving. What had Roxbury Medcroft been doing that he should +be subject to arrest?</p> + +<p>"You are masquerading here as Roxbury Medcroft the architect. You are +not Medcroft. I have watched you for weeks. To-day we have learned that +Medcroft is in London. Your linen is marked with a letter B. You've +drawn money on a letter of credit together with a woman who signs +herself as Edith F. Medcroft. There is something wrong with you, Mr. B., +and these officers, acting for the hotel and the State Bank, have been +instructed to detain you pending an investigation."</p> + +<p>Mr. Githens was vindicating himself. He may have been a trifle +disconcerted by Miss Fowler's musical laugh and Brock's plain guffaw, +but he managed to preserve a <a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>stiff dignity. "It's no laughing matter. +Officers, this is your man. Take him in charge. Madam, as I understand +it, you are the alleged sister of the woman who is working herself off +as Mrs. Medcroft. It may interest you to know that your sister—if she +is your sister—has locked herself in her room and was in hysterics when +I left the hotel. She will be carefully guarded, however. She cannot +escape. As for you, madam, there is as yet no complaint against you, but +I wish to notify you that you may consider yourself under surveillance +until after your friends have had a hearing before the magistrate +to-morrow. As soon as it has ceased raining we will ask you to ride with +us to the city. As for Mr. B., he is in charge of these officers."</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock that evening a solemn cavalcade rode into Innsbruck. +There were tears of expostulation in the eyes of the lone young woman, +flashes of indignation in those of the tall young man who rode beside +her.</p> + +<p>The tall young man was going to gaol!</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-5.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h3> + +<h4>THE THREE GUARDIANS.</h4> + + +<p>The anti-climax had struck the Hotel Tirol some hours before it came +upon Brock and Miss Fowler. It seems that Githens had gone first to the +big hostelry in quest of light on the very puzzling dilemma in which he +found himself involved. Inquiries at the office only served to stir up a +grave commotion among the clerks and managers, all of whom vociferously +maintained that the hotel was entirely blameless if any deception had +been practised. The Tirol did not tolerate anything that savoured of the +scandalous; the Tirol was a respectable house; the Tirol was ever +careful, always rigid in the protection of its good name; and so on and +so forth at great length and with great precision. But Mr. Githens had +two officers with him, and he demanded the person of the man calling +himself Roxbury Medcroft. The principal bank in the city was also +represented in the company of investigators. Likewise there was a +laconic gentleman from the British office.</p> + +<p>Mr. Medcroft was out. Then, they agreed, it was necessary to see Mrs. +Medcroft, or the lady representing herself to be such. Mr. Githens was +permitted to go to her rooms in company with the manager of the hotel. +What transpired in those rooms during the next fifteen <a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>minutes would be +quite impossible to narrate short of an entire volume. Edith promptly +collapsed. Subsequently she became hysterical. She begged for time, and, +getting it, proceeded to threaten every one with prosecution.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> Mrs. Medcroft!" she declared piteously. "Where is the American +consul? I demand the American consul!"</p> + +<p>"What has the American government to do with it?" gruffly demanded Mr. +Githens.</p> + +<p>"Mr.—Mr.—the gentleman whom you accuse is an American citizen!" she +stammered.</p> + +<p>"Oho! Then he is not an Englishman?"</p> + +<p>"I refuse to answer your questions. You are impertinent. I ask you, sir, +as the manager of this hotel, to eject this man from my rooms." The +manager smiled blandly and did not eject the man.</p> + +<p>"But, madam," he said, "we have a right to know who and what you are. If +Mr. Medcroft is in London, this gentleman surely cannot be he, the real +Mr. Medcroft. We must have an explanation."</p> + +<p>"I'll—I will explain everything to-morrow. Oh, by the way, is there a +telegram for me in the office? There must be. I've been expecting it all +day. I telegraphed to London for it."</p> + +<p>"There is no telegram down there, madam."</p> + +<p>At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney appeared on the scene, uninvited but +welcome.</p> + +<p>"Wot's all this?" he demanded sternly. Everybody proceeded at once to +tell him. Somehow he got the drift of the story. "Get out—all of you!" +he said. "I stand sponsor for Mrs. Medcroft. She <i>is</i> Mrs. Medcroft, +hang you, sir. If you come around here bothering her <a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>again, I'll have +the law upon you. The Medcrofts are English citizens and—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they are, are they?" sneered Mr. Githens, with a sinister chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Who the devil are you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I'm from Scotland Yard."</p> + +<p>"I thought so. You've proved it, 'pon my soul. I am Odell-Carney. +Daresay you've heard of me."</p> + +<p>"I know you by sight, sir. But that—"</p> + +<p>"Clever chap, by Jove! And there's no but about it. Mr.—Mr.—never mind +what it is. I don't want to know your name. Mrs. Medcroft, will you +permit me to send my wife up to you? Mr. Manager, I insist that you take +this c'nfended rabble down to the office and tell them to go to the +devil? Don't do it up here; do it down there."</p> + +<p>After some further discussion and protest, the Scotland Yard man and his +party left the room to its distracted mistress. It may be well to +remark, for the sake of local colour, that Tootles was crying lustily, +while Raggles barked in spite of all that O'Brien could do to stop him.</p> + +<p>Odell-Carney sent his wife to Edith. A few minutes later, as he was +making his way to the office, he came upon Mrs. Rodney and Katherine, +hurrying, white-faced, to their rooms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, isn't it dreadful?" wailed the former, putting her clenched hands +to her temples.</p> + +<p>"Isn't wot dreadful?" demanded he brutally.</p> + +<p>"About Edith! They're going to arrest her."</p> + +<p>"Not if I can help it, madam. Where is Mr. Rodney?"</p> + +<p>"He hasn't anything to do with it! We're as innocent as children unborn. +It's all shocking to us. Mr.<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a> Rodney shouldn't be arrested. His +rectitude is without a flaw. For heaven's sake, don't implicate him. +He's—"</p> + +<p>"Madam, I am not a policeman," said Odell-Carney with scathing dignity. +"I want your husband to aid me in hushing this c'nfended thing."</p> + +<p>"He shan't do it! I won't permit him to be mixed up in it," almost +screamed Mrs. Rodney. "I've just heard that he isn't a husband at all. +It's atrocious!"</p> + +<p>"Bless me, Mrs. Rodney," roared Odell-Carney, "then you oughtn't to be +living with him if he isn't your husband. You're as bad as— Hi, look +out, there! Don't do that!" Mrs. Rodney had collapsed into her +daughter's arms, gasping for breath.</p> + +<p>"She's all upset, Mr. Odell-Carney," said Katherine, shaking her mother +soundly. "It's just nerves. If you see papa, send him to us. We must +take the <i>first</i> train for—for anywhere. Will you tell Mrs. +Odell-Carney that if she'll get ready at once, papa will see to the +tickets."</p> + +<p>"Tickets? But, my dear young lady, we're not going anywhere. We're going +to stay here and see your cousin out of her troubles. My wife is with +her now."</p> + +<p>He started away as Mr. Rodney came puffing up the stairs. Odell-Carney +changed his mind and waited.</p> + +<p>"Where's Edith?" panted Mr. Rodney.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" groaned his wife, lowering her voice because three +chambermaids were looking on from a near-by turn. "Don't mention that +creature's name. Just think what she's got us into. He isn't her +husband. Alfred, telephone for tickets on to-night's train. To-morrow +will be too late. I won't stay here another minute. Everybody in the +hotel is talking. We'll all be arrested."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>But Mr. Rodney, for once, was the head of the family. He faced her +sternly.</p> + +<p>"Go to your rooms, both of you. We'll stay here until this thing is +ended. I don't give a hang what she's done, I'm not going to desert +her."</p> + +<p>"But—but he isn't her husband," gasped Mrs. Rodney, struck dumb by this +amazing rebellion.</p> + +<p>"But she's your cousin, isn't she, madam?" he retorted with fierce +irony.</p> + +<p>"I disown her!" wailed his wife, <i>sans raison</i>.</p> + +<p>"Go to your rooms!" stormed pudgy Mr. Rodney. Then, as they slunk away, +he turned to the approving Odell-Carney, sticking out his chest a trifle +in his new-found authority. "I say, Carney, what's to be done next?"</p> + +<p>The other looked at him for a moment as if in doubt. Then his face +cleared, and he took the little man's arm in his.</p> + +<p>"We'll have a drink first and then see," he said.</p> + +<p>As they were entering the buffet, a cheery voice accosted them from +behind. Freddie Ulstervelt came up, real distress in his face.</p> + +<p>"I say, count me in on this. I'll buy, if I may. I've just heard the +news from the door porter. Bloody shame, isn't it? I had Mademoiselle Le +Brun over to hear the band concert—she is related to that painter +woman, by the way; I told Katherine she was. Say, gentlemen, we'll stand +by Mrs. Medcroft, won't we? Count me in. If it's anything that money can +square, I'm here with a letter of credit six figures long."</p> + +<p>"Join us," said Odell-Carney warmly. "You're a good sort, after all."</p> + +<p>They sat down at a table. Freddie stood between them, <a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>a hand on the +shoulder of each. Very seriously he was saying:</p> + +<p>"I say, gentlemen, we can't abandon a woman at a time like this. We must +stand together. All true sports and black sheep <i>should</i> stand together, +don't you know."</p> + +<p>It is possible that Odell-Carney appreciated the subtlety of this +compliment. Not so Mr. Rodney.</p> + +<p>"Sports? Black sheep? Upon my soul, sir, I don't understand you," he +mumbled. Mr. Rodney, although he hailed from Seattle, had never known +anything but a clean and unrumpled conscience.</p> + +<p>Freddie clapped him jovially on the shoulder. "It's all right, Mr. +Rodney. I'll take your word for it. But if we are black sheep we shan't +be blackguards. We'll stand by the ship. What's to be done? Bail 'em +out?"</p> + +<p>It is of record that the three gentlemen were closeted with the officers +and managers for an hour or more, but it is not clear that they +transacted anything that could seriously affect the situation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Medcroft, despite Mrs. Odell-Carney's friendly offices, refused +point blank to discuss the situation. She did not dare to do or say +anything as yet. Her husband had not telegraphed the word releasing her +from the sorry compact. She loyally decided to stand by the agreement, +no matter what the cost, until she received word from London that he had +triumphed or failed in his brave fight against the "bloodsuckers."</p> + +<p>"I will explain to-morrow, dear Mrs. Odell-Carney," she pleaded. "Don't +press me now. Everything shall be all right. Oh, how I wish Constance +were here! She understands. But she's off listening to silly love talk +and doesn't even care what happens to me. Burton, will you <a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>be good +enough to spank Tootles if she doesn't stop that screaming?"</p> + +<p>By nine o'clock that night every one was discussing the significant +disappearance of Constance Fowler and the fraudulent husband of Mrs. +Medcroft. Just as Mr. Odell-Carney was preparing to announce to the +unfortunate wife that the couple had eloped in the most cowardly +fashion, Miss Fowler herself appeared on the scene, dishevelled, +mud-spattered, and hot, but with a look of firm determination in her +face. She strode defiantly through the main hall, ignoring the curious +gaze of the loungers, whisking the skirt of her habit with disdainful +abandon as she passed on to the lift. A few moments later she burst in +upon her sister, a very angry young person indeed. The Odell-Carneys +were down the hall discussing her strange defection; it was with no +little relief that they saw her enter the room.</p> + +<p>"Are we alone?" demanded Miss Fowler, not giving Edith time to proclaim +her joy at seeing her. "Well, I've arranged a way to get him out," she +went on, her lips set.</p> + +<p>"Out?" murmured Mrs. Medcroft.</p> + +<p>"Of course. We can't let him stay in there all night, Edith. How much +money have you? Hurry up, please! Don't stare!"</p> + +<p>"In where? Who's in where?"</p> + +<p>"He's in gaol!" with supreme scorn. "Haven't you heard?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Medcroft began to cry. "Mr. Brock in gaol? Good heavens, what shall +I do? I—I was depending on him so much. He ought to be here at this +very instant. What has he been doing?"</p> + +<p><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>"Edith Medcroft, stop sniffling, and don't think of yourself for a +while. It will do you a great deal of good. Where's your money?"</p> + +<p>Ruthlessly she began to rummage Edith's treasure trunk. The other came +to her assistance after a dazed interval. The family purse came to +light.</p> + +<p>"I have a little over four thousand crowns," she murmured helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Give it me, quick. There's no time to waste. I have about five +thousand. It's all in notes, thank heaven. It isn't quite enough, but +I'll try to make it do. Don't stop me, Edith. I haven't time to answer +questions. He's in gaol, didn't you hear me say? And I love him!"</p> + +<p>"But the—the money? Is it to bail him out with?"</p> + +<p>"Bail? No, my dear, it's to <i>buy</i> him out with. 'Sh! Is there any one in +that room? Well, then, I'll tell you something." The heads of the two +sisters were quite close together. "He's in a cell at the—the +prison-hof, or whatever you call it in German. It's gaol in English. I +have arranged to bribe one of the gaolers—his guard. He will let him +escape for ten thousand crowns—we must do it, Edith! Then Mr. Brock +will ride over the Brenner Pass and catch a train somewhere, before his +escape is discovered. I expect to meet him in Paris day after to-morrow. +Have you heard from Roxbury?"</p> + +<p>"No!" wailed Roxbury's wife.</p> + +<p>"He's a brute!" stormed Miss Fowler.</p> + +<p>"Constance!" flared Mrs. Medcroft, aghast at this sign of lese-majesty.</p> + +<p>"Don't tell anybody," called Constance, as she banged the door behind +her.</p> + +<p>Soon after midnight a closely veiled lady drove up to a <a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>street corner +adjacent to the city prison, a dolorous-looking building which loomed up +still and menacing just ahead. She alighted and, dismissing the cab, +strode off quickly into the side street. At a distant corner, in front +of a crowded eating-house, two spirited horses, saddled and in charge of +a grumbling stable-boy, champed noisily at their bits. The young woman +exchanged a few rapid sentences with the boy, and then returned in the +direction from which she came. A man stepped out of a doorway as she +neared the corner, accosting her with a stealthy deference that +proclaimed him to be anything but an unwelcome marauder.</p> + +<p>The conversation which passed between the slender, nervous young woman +and this burly individual was carried on in very cautious tones, +accompanied by many quick and furtive glances in all directions, as if +both were in fear of observers. At last, after eager pleading on one +side and stolid expostulation on the other, a small package passed from +the hand of the young woman into the huge paw of the man. The latter +gave her a quick, cautious salute and hurried back toward the gaol.</p> + +<p>The veiled young woman, very nervous and strangely agitated, made her +way back to the spot where the horses were standing. Making her way +through the cluster of small tables which lined the inner side of the +sidewalk, she found one unoccupied at the extreme end, a position which +commanded a view of the street down which she had just come.</p> + +<p>Half an hour passed. Midnight revellers at the surrounding tables began +to take notice of this tall, elegant, nervous young woman with the +veiled face. It was plain to all of them that she was expecting someone; +naturally <a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>it would be a man, therefore a lover. Her nervousness grew as +the minutes lengthened into the hour. A clock in a tower near by struck +one. She was now staring with wide, eager eyes down the street, alertly +watching the approach of anyone who came from that direction. Twice she +half arose and started forward with a quick sigh of relief, only to sink +back again dejectedly upon discovering that she had been mistaken in the +identity of a newcomer.</p> + +<p>Half-past one, then two o'clock. The merry-makers were thinning out; she +was quite alone at her end of the place. By this time a close observer +might have noticed that she was trembling violently; there was an air of +abject fear and despair in her manner.</p> + +<p>Why did he not come? What had happened? Had the plot failed? Was he even +now lying wounded unto death as the result of his effort to escape +captivity? A hundred horrid thoughts raced through her throbbing, +overwrought brain. He should have been with her two hours ago—he should +now be far on his way to freedom. Alas, something appalling had +happened, she was sure of it.</p> + +<p>At last there hove in sight, coming from the direction in which lay the +prison, a group of three men. It was a jaunty party, evidently under the +influence of many libations. They came with arms linked, with dignified +but unsteady gait, their hats well back on their heads. In the middle +was a very tall man, flanked on one side by a very short fat one, on the +other by a slender youth who wanted to sing.</p> + +<p>She recognised them and would have drawn back to a less exposed spot, +but the slender youth saw her before she could do so. He shouted to his +companions as if they were two blocks away.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>"There she is! Hooray!"</p> + +<p>They bore down upon her. The next instant they were solemnly shaking +hands with her, much to her dismay.</p> + +<p>"Cons'ance, we've been lookin' f-fer you ever'-where in town. W-where on +earth 've you been?" asked Mr. Rodney thickly, with a laudable attempt +at severity.</p> + +<p>"Ever sinch 'leven o'clock, Conshance," supplemented Freddie, trying to +frown.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss F-Fowler," began Odell-Carney in, his most suave manner, +"it is after two o'clock. In—in the morning at that. You—you shouldn't +be sittin' here all 'lone thish—this hour in the morning. Please come +home with us. Your mother hash—has ask us to fetch you—I mean your +sister. Beg pardon."</p> + +<p>"I—I cannot go, gentlemen," she stammered. "Please don't insist—please +don't ask why. I cannot go—"</p> + +<p>"I shay, Conshance, by Jove, the joke's on you," exclaimed Freddie. "I +know who 't ish you're waitin' f-for. Well, he can't come. He's locked +in."</p> + +<p>"Freddie, you are drunk!" in deep scorn.</p> + +<p>"I know it," he admitted cheerfully. "We've looked ever'where for you. +We're your frien's. He said it was at 'n eatin'-house. We've been ever' +eatin'-house in Inchbrook. Was here first of all. Leave it to Rodney. +Wassen we, Rodney? You bet we was. You wassen here at 'leven o'clock. +Come on home, Conshance. 'S all right. He's safe. He can't come."</p> + +<p>"But he will come, unless something terrible has happened to him," she +almost sobbed in her desperation. "Cousin Alfred, <i>won't</i> you go to the +gaol and see what has happened?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Rodney took off his hat gallantly and would have <a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>gone to do her +bidding had not Mr. Odell-Carney laid a restraining grip upon his +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Let me explain, Miss F-Fowler. You shee—see, he told us you'd be here, +but, hang it all, you wassen here wh-when we came. Never give up, says I +to my frien's. We'll search till doomshday. I knew we'd find you if we +kep' on searching. Thash jus' wot I said to Roddy, didn' I, Roddy? We +mush have overlokked yo' when we were here at 'leven."</p> + +<p>"I was not here at eleven," she cried breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Thash jus' what I tol' 'em," insisted Freddie triumphantly. "I saysh: +'What's use lookin' here? She—she isn't on top of any these tables,' +an' I—I knew you wassen unner 'em. You ain't—"</p> + +<p>"Permit me," interrupted Odell-Carney with grave dignity. "Your friend, +Miss Fowler, is not in gaol. He is out—"</p> + +<p>"Not in gaol!" she almost shrieked. "I knew it! I knew it could not go +wrong. But where is he?"</p> + +<p>"He's out on bail. We bailed him out at half-past ten— Wot!" She had +leaped to her feet with a short scream and was clutching his arm +frantically.</p> + +<p>"On bail? At half-past ten? Good heavens, then—then—oh, are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Poshtive, abs'lutely."</p> + +<p>"Then what has become of my nine thousand crowns?"</p> + +<p>"You c'n search me, Conshance," murmured Freddie.</p> + +<p>"I don' know what you 're talkin' 'bout, Cons'ance," said Mr. Rodney in +a very hurt tone. "We—we put up security f'r five thous'n dollars, +that's what we did. This is all the thanks we getsh for it. Ungrachful!"</p> + +<p>Constance had been thinking very hard, paying no heed <a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>to his maudlin +defence. It rapidly was dawning upon her that these men had secured her +lover's release on bail at half-past ten o'clock, an hour and a half +before she had given her bribe of nine thousand crowns to the gaoler. +That being the case, it was becoming clear to her that the wretch +deliberately had taken the money, knowing that Brock was not in the +prison, and with the plain design to rob her of the amount. It was a +transaction in which he could be perfectly secure; bribing of public +officials is a solemn offence in Austria and Germany. She could have no +recourse, could make no complaint. Her money was gone!</p> + +<p>"Where is Mr. Br—Mr. Medcroft?" she demanded, her voice full of +anxiety. If he were out of gaol, why had he failed to come to the +meeting-place?</p> + +<p>"He's locked in," persisted Freddie.</p> + +<p>"That's just it, Miss Fowler," explained Odell-Carney glibly. "You +shee—see, it was this way: we got him out on bail on condition he'd +'pear to-morrow morning 'fore the magistrate. Affer we'd got him out, he +insisted on coming 'round here so's he could run away with you. That +wassen a gennelmanly thing to do, affer we'd put up our money. We +coul'n' afford have him runnin' away with you. So we had him locked in a +room on top floor of the hotel, where he can't get out 'n' leave us to +hold the bag, don't you see. He almos' cried an' said you'd be waitin' +at the church or—or something like that bally song, don't you know, an' +as a lash reshort, to keep him quiet like a good ferrer—feller, we said +we'd come an' get you an' 'splain everything saffis—sasfac—ahem! +sassisfac'rly."</p> + +<p>She looked at then with burning eyes. Slow rage was coming to the +flaming point; And for this she had sat and <a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>suffered for hours in a +street restaurant! For this! Her eyes fell upon the limp horses and the +dejected stable-boy. Two hours!</p> + +<p>"You will release him at once!" she stormed. "Do you hear? It is +outrageous!"</p> + +<p>Without another word to the dazed trio, she rushed to the curb and +commanded the boy to assist her into the saddle. He did so, in stupid +amazement. Then she instructed him to mount and follow her to the Tirol +as fast as he could ride. The horses were tearing off in the darkness a +moment later.</p> + +<p>The three guardians stood speechless until the clatter died away in the +distance. Then Mr. Rodney pulled himself together with an effort and +groaned in abject horror.</p> + +<p>"By thunner, the damn girl is stealin' somebody's horshes!"</p> + + + +<hr /><p><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/borderstyle-3.jpg" alt="CHAPTER HEADER" title="CHAPTER HEADER" /></div> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + +<h4>THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND.</h4> + + +<p>The unlucky Brock, wild with rage and chagrin, had paced his temporary +prison in the top storey of the Tirol from eleven o'clock till two, +bitterly cursing the fools who were keeping him in durance more vile +than that from which they had generously released him. He realised that +it would be unwise to create a disturbance in the house by clamouring +for freedom, because, in the first place, there already had been scandal +enough, and in the second place, his distrustful bondsmen had promised +faithfully to seek out the devoted Connie and apprise her of his +release. He had no thought, of course, that in the mean time she might +be duped into paying a bribe to the guard.</p> + +<p>Not only was he direfully cursing the trio, but also the addlepated +Medcroft and his own addlepated self. It is to be feared that he had +harsh thoughts of all the Medcrofts, as far down as Raggles. His dream +of love and happiness had turned into a nightmare; the comedy had become +a tragic snarl of all the effects known to melodrama. Bitterly he +lamented the fact that now he could not go before the assembled critics +in the morning and proclaim to them that Constance was his wife. From +this, it readily may be judged that Brock was not familiar with all the +details of the vigorous Miss Fowler's plan. As a matter of fact, he <a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>did +not know that he was expected to fly the country like a fugitive. She +had known in her heart that he would never agree to a plan of that sort; +it was, therefore, necessary for her to deceive him in more ways than +one. Plainly speaking, Brock had laboured under the delusion that she +merely proposed to bribe the gaoler into letting him off for the night, +in order that by some hook or crook they could be married early in the +morning—provided her conception of the State marriage laws as they +applied to aliens was absolutely correct. (It was not correct, it may be +well to state, although that has nothing to do with the case at this +moment.) If he had but known that she contemplated paying ten thousand +crowns for his surreptitious release, making herself criminally liable, +and that he was expected to catch a night train across the border, it is +only just to his manhood to say that he should have balked, even though +the act were to cost him years of prison servitude—which, of course, +was unlikely in the face of the explanation that would be made in proper +time by the real Medcroft. It thus may be seen that Brock not only had +been vilely imprisoned twice in the same night, but that he was very +much in the dark, notwithstanding his attempt to make light of the +situation.</p> + +<p>It occurred to him, at two o'clock, that pacing the floor in the agony +of suspense was a very useless occupation. He would go to bed. Morning +would bring relief and surcease to his troubled mind. Constance was +doubtless sound asleep in her room. Everything would have been explained +to her long before this hour; she would understand. So, with the return +of his old sophistry, he undressed and crawled into the strange bed. +Somehow he did not like it as well as the cot in the balcony below.</p> + +<p>Just as he was dropping off into the long-delayed slum<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>ber, he heard a +light tapping at his door. He sat up in bed like a flash, thoroughly +wide awake. The rapping was repeated. He called out in cautious tones, +asking who was there, at the same time slipping from bed to fumble in +the darkness for his clothes.</p> + +<p>"'Sh!" came from the hallway. He rushed over and put his ear to the +door. "It is I. Are you awake? I can't stay here. It's wrong. Listen: +here is a note—under the door. Good night, darling! I'm heartbroken."</p> + +<p>"Thank God, it's you!" he cried softly. "How I love you, Constance!"</p> + +<p>"'Sh! Edith is with me! Oh, I wish it were morning and I could see you. +I have so much to say."</p> + +<p>Another querulous voice broke in: "For heaven's sake, Connie, don't +stand here any longer. Our reputations are bad enough as it is. Good +night—Roxbury!" He distinctly heard the heartless Edith giggle. Then +came the soft, quick swish of garments and the nocturnal visitors were +gone. He picked up the envelope and, waiting until they were safely down +the hall, turned on the light.</p> + +<p>"Dearest," he read, "it was not my fault and I know it was not yours. +But, oh, you don't know how I suffered all through those hours of +waiting at the café. They did not find me until after two. They were +drunk. They tried to explain. What do you think the authorities will do +to me if they find that I gave that horrid man bribe money? Really, I'm +terribly nervous. But he won't dare say anything, will he? He is as +guilty as I, for he took it. He took it knowing that you were free at +the time. But we will talk it over to-morrow. I've just got back to the +hotel. I wouldn't go to bed until Edith brought me up to hear your dear +voice. I am so glad you are not dead.<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a> It is impossible to release you +to-night. Those wretches have the key. How I loathe them! Edith says the +hotel is wild with gossip about <i>everything</i> and <i>everybody</i>. It's just +awful. Be of good heart, my beloved. I will be your faithful slave until +death. With love and adoration and kisses. Your own Constance.</p> + +<p>"P.S. Roxbury has not made a sign, Edith is frantic."</p> + +<p>Several floors below the relieved and ecstatic Brock, Mrs. Medcroft was +soon urging her sister to go to bed and let the story go until daylight. +She persisted in telling all that she had done and all that she had +endured.</p> + +<p>"We must never let him know that we actually gave that wretch nearly +twenty-five hundred dollars, Edith. He would never forgive us. I admit +that I was a fool and a ninny, so don't tell me I am. I can see by the +way you are looking that you're just crazy to. It's all Roxbury's fault, +anyway. Why should he get up and make a speech in London without letting +us know? Just see how it has placed us! I think Mr. Brock is an angel to +do what he has done for you and Roxbury. Yes, my dear, you will have to +confess that Roxbury is a brute—a perfect brute. I'm sure, if you have +a spark of fairness in you, you must hate him. No, no! Don't say +anything, Edith. You <i>know</i> I'm right."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to say anything," declared Edith angrily. "I'm going to +bed."</p> + +<p>"Edith, if you don't mind, dear, I think I'll sleep with you." After a +moment of deep reflection she added plaintively: "There is so much that +I just have to tell you, deary. It—it won't keep till daylight."</p> + +<p>Bright and early in the morning, the tired, harassed night-farers were +routed from their rooms by a demand from the <a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>management of the hotel +that they appear forthwith in the private office. This order included +every member of Mr. Rodney's party, excepting the Medcroft baby. +Considerably distressed and very much concerned over the probable +outcome of the conference, the Rodney forces made their way to the +offices—not altogether in an open fashion, but by humiliatingly unusual +avenues. The Rodney family came down the back stairs. Brock was solemnly +ushered through the public office by Mr. Odell-Carney and Freddie +Ulstervelt. It is not stretching the truth to say that they were sour +and sullen, but, as may be suspected, from peculiarly different causes. +At last all were congregated in the stuffy office, very much subdued and +very much at odds with each other. Mr. Githens was there. Likewise the +gentleman from the bank and a prominent person from the department of +police.</p> + +<p>Miss Fowler glanced about uneasily, and was relieved to discover that +her treacherous gaoler was not there to confront her with charges. It +had occurred to her that he might, after all, have tricked her into +committing a crime against the government.</p> + +<p>It was quite noticeable that Mrs. Rodney and Katherine did not speak to +the Medcroft contingent—in fact, they ignored them quite completely. +Mrs. Rodney was very pale and very deeply distressed. She cast many +glances at the red-eyed and sheepish Mr. Rodney,—glances that meant +much to the further torture of his soul.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to inform you, Herr Rodney, that the rooms which you now +occupy, and those of your friends, are no longer at your disposal. They +have been engaged for from sometime this day by a—"</p> + +<p>"Look here," interrupted Odell-Carney bluntly, "if <a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>you mean that we are +not wanted here any longer, why not say so? Don't lie about it. We are +leaving to-day, in any event, so wot's the odds? Now, come down to +facts: why are we summoned here like a crowd of school children?"</p> + +<p>The manager looked at Mr. Githens and then at the police officer.</p> + +<p>"Ahem! It seems that Herr Grabetz of the police department desires to +ask some questions of your party in my presence. You will understand, +sir, that the hotel has been imposed upon by—by these people. It seems, +also, that the bank insists upon having some light thrown upon the +methods by which Mrs. Medcroft secures money on her letter of credit."</p> + +<p>"You are welcome to all that, sir," declared Mr. Odell-Carney, "but I am +interested to know just why my wife and I are brought into this affair."</p> + +<p>"Because you are guests of Mr. Rodney, sir, I regret to state. We have +no complaint against you, sir. <i>You</i> are well known here. The—the +others are not. They are—what you call it? Humbugs! It may be that they +also have swindled you!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Rodney, at this point, leaped to his feet and rushed over to shake +his fist in the face of the insulting hotel man. But Edith Medcroft +arose suddenly, like a tragedy queen, and spoke, her clear, determined +voice stilling the turbulent spirit of her outraged host.</p> + +<p>"One moment, please," she said. "This all can be satisfactorily +explained. No wrong has been done. It will all be cleared up in time. +We—"</p> + +<p>"In time?" interrupted the manager. "Madam, <i>this</i> is the time. You are +here with a man who is not your husband, yet who purports to be such."</p> + +<p><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>"It may throw some light on the matter if I announce that the gentleman +in question is <i>my</i> affianced husband." It was Miss Fowler who spoke. +Every one stared at her as she moved over to Brock's side.</p> + +<p>"If you will look in the office, you will find a telegram there for me," +went on Mrs. Medcroft, pale but absolutely confident. The manager called +out through the door. Absolute silence reigned while the reply was +awaited.</p> + +<p>"No telegram for Mrs. Medcroft last night or to-day," announced the +manager sternly, as he glanced through the slim bunch of blue envelopes. +"There are four here for a Mr. Brock, who has not yet arrived in—"</p> + +<p>"Brock!" shouted three voices in one.</p> + +<p>A tall man, forgetting his English and his eyeglass, sprang forward and +grabbed the telegrams from the manager's hand. "Holy mackerel! Give 'em +here!" he shouted. Two eager, beautiful young women were hanging to his +elbows as he ruthlessly broke one of the seals. "The chump! It's from +Rox! They're all from Rox—and they are two or three days old!"</p> + +<p>Just then the unexpected happened.</p> + +<p>The office door opened with a bang, and the real Roxbury Medcroft +stepped into the room. He halted just inside the door and looked about +in momentary bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"This is a private—" began the manager, stepping forward. A flying +figure sped past him; a delighted little shriek rang in his ears. He saw +Edith Medcroft hurl herself into the arms of her own husband. At the +same moment Brock bounded across the room and pounced eagerly upon the +welcome intruder.</p> + +<p>"Good Gawd!" gasped Odell-Carney. "Wot's all <a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>this?" His wife suddenly +began fanning herself, searching for breath.</p> + +<p>"<i>This</i> is my husband!" cried Edith, triumph in her voice, tears in her +eyes, as she faced the astonished observers. "Now, what have you to +say?"</p> + +<p>It was a perfectly natural but not an especially obvious question. The +little manager threw up his hands and cried out in a sad mixture of +French, English and Helvetian,—</p> + +<p>"What? Another husband? Madam, how many more do you propose to inflict +us with? We cannot allow it! The management will not permit you to +change husbands the instant a new guest arrives in the house. It is not +to be heard of—no, no!"</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid that the books won't balance?" asked Brock with a joyous +grin, a great load off his heart. "Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to +introduce Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, my friend and fellow conspirator. He is +the husband of this lady, not I. I am to be the husband of <i>this</i> lady, +thank God."</p> + +<p>There was a moment of absolute silence—it may have been stupor. The two +audiences faced each other with emotions widely at variance. It was Mrs. +Rodney who spoke first.</p> + +<p>"Is this true, Edith?" she quavered.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Edith, her eyes dancing.</p> + +<p>"Then, what are you doing here with a man who isn't your husband?" +demanded Mrs. Rodney, suddenly aflame.</p> + +<p>"I can explain everything to you later on, Mrs. Rodney," interposed Mrs. +Odell-Carney calmly. She had divined at least a portion of the truth, +and she was clever enough to put herself on the right side. Edith cast +an involuntary <a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>look of surprise at the Englishwoman. "I have known +everything from the first. Mrs. Medcroft and I are closer friends than +you may have thought." She gave Edith a meaning look, and a moment later +was whispering to her in a private corner of the private office: "My +dear, I don't know what it means, but you must tell me everything as +soon as possible. I am your friend. Whatever it all is, it's ripping!"</p> + +<p>There was a great deal of pow-wowing and chatter, charges and +refutations, excuses and explanations. Mr. Medcroft finally waved every +one aside in the most <i>dégagé</i> manner imaginable.</p> + +<p>"Don't crowd me! Hang it all, I'm not a curiosity. There isn't anything +to go crazy about. My friend, Mr. Brock, has just done me a trifling +favour. That's all. The whole story will be in the London papers this +morning. Buy 'em. I'm going up to my wife's room to see my baby. I'll +come down and explain everything when I've had a bit of a breathing +spell. It's annoying to have had this fuss about a simple little matter +of generosity on the part of my friend, who, I've no doubt, has been a +most exemplary husband. I'll see to it, by Gad, that he receives the +proper apologies. And, for that matter, my wife may have something to +say about the outrage that has been perpetrated."</p> + +<p>He took it all very much as if the world owed him an explanation and not +<i>vice versa</i>. As he was stalking from the room, Brock bethought himself +to ask,—</p> + +<p>"When did you arrive, old man?"</p> + +<p>"Last night on the 12.10. I registered as Smith. It was so late that I +decided not to disturb Edith. They said in the office that you'd gone to +bed, Brock. Now that I <a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>recall it, they said it in a very odd way too. +In fact, one of the clerks asked if I had it in for you too."</p> + +<p>"You were here all night?" murmured Constance in plaintive misery.</p> + +<p>"Well, not precisely all night, Connie. Half of it," replied Roxbury. +"Brock, you ass, I telegraphed you I was coming and asked you to meet me +at the station. I telegraphed twice from London and—"</p> + +<p>"Don't call me an ass," grated Brock. "Why didn't you send 'em to me as +Medcroft? I haven't been Brock until this very morning."</p> + +<p>"'Pon my soul, Brock, it was rather stupid of me," he confessed +sheepishly. "But, you see," with an inspired smile, "one of 'em was to +congratulate you on winning Connie. By Jove, you know, I <i>couldn't</i> very +well address that one to myself."</p> + +<p>"But—but he hadn't won me," stammered Constance Fowler.</p> + +<p>"Edith," said Roxbury, deep reproach in his voice, "you wrote me that a +week ago!" Edith merely squeezed his arm.</p> + +<p>Odell-Carney came forward and extended his hand. "Permit me to introduce +myself, sir. I am George Odell-Carney. It has given me great pleasure to +serve you without knowing you. In my catalogue of personalities you have +posed intermittently as a demmed bounder, a deceived husband, a betrayed +lover, a successful lover, and a lot of other things I can't just now +recall. Acting on the presumption that you might have been a friend in +distress, I worked hard in your interest. Now I discover, to my +gratification, you are a perfect stranger whom I am proud to meet. +Permit me to offer my warmest felicitations and <a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>to assure you that Mr. +Brock will make a splendid brother-in-law." He hesitated a moment and +then went on: "So <i>you</i> are the chap that really put in those c'nfended +memorial windows. 'Pon me word, sir, they are the rottenest—"</p> + +<p>"Carney!" came the sharp reminder from his wife.</p> + +<p>"I should have said," revised Mr. Odell-Carney, "you are the chap who +played the deuce with the building grafters in the County Council. +Remarkable!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Roxbury, striving to grasp something of the situation as it +appeared to the other. "We beat them. The bill is lost. It will never go +to the Council. The sub-committee will not recommend it. Thanks, Brock, +old man; you have saved London a good many millions, I daresay. It was +you who did it, after all."</p> + +<p>Before noon the hotel was agog with the full details of the remarkable +story. Cabled despatches in the newspapers gave the gist of the clever +trick played by the Medcrofts, and the whole of England was to ring with +the stories of Mrs. Medcroft's pluck and devotion. Everybody was buying +the papers and staring with admiration at Mrs. Medcroft.</p> + +<p>The management of the Tirol implored the Medcrofts to remain—forever! +The bank and the police were profuse in apologies and explanations, and +Mr. Githens departed by the first train.</p> + +<p>Freddie Ulstervelt, killing two birds with one stone, arranged a +splendid dinner for that night in honour of the prodigal husband of +Edith and also in open compliment to the vivacious Mademoiselle Le Brun.</p> + +<p>Later in the day, it occurred to him that he might just as well kill +three birds as two, so he planned to announce the <a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a>betrothal of Miss +Fowler and Mr. Brock, the wedding to take place a fortnight hence in +Mayfair. The Rodneys were invited to "stop over" for the spread. It is +left for the reader to supply the answer to this simple question,—</p> + +<p>Did they stop over?</p> + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/endpaper.jpg" alt="END PAPER" title="END PAPER" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 16719-h.txt or 16719-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/1/16719</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Husbands of Edith + + +Author: George Barr McCutcheon + + + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [eBook #16719] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH*** + + +E-text prepared by Louise Pryor, Janet Blenkinship, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 16719-h.htm or 16719-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719/16719-h/16719-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719/16719-h.zip) + + + + + +THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH + +by + +GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON + +With Illustrations by Harrison Fisher +and Decorations by Theodore B. Hapgood + +New York +Dodd, Mead & Company +The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A. + +1908 + + + + + + + * * * * * * * + + + OTHER BOOKS BY MR. McCUTCHEON + + NEDRA + BEVERLY OF GRAUSTARK + THE DAY OF THE DOG + THE PURPLE PARASOL + THE SHERRODS + GRAUSTARK + CASTLE CRANEYCROW + BREWSTER'S MILLIONS + JANE CABLE + COWARDICE COURT + THE DAUGHTER OF ANDERSON CROW + THE FLYERS + + + * * * * * * * + + + + [Illustration: Motif] + + + [Illustration: "'Don't you think Connie is a perfect + dear?'" (page 54)] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER Page + + I HUSBANDS AND WIFE 1 + + II THE SISTER-IN-LAW 17 + + III THE DISTANT COUSINS 37 + + IV THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW 51 + + V THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY 70 + + VI OTHER RELATIONS 87 + + VII THE THREE GUARDIANS 102 + + VIII THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND 116 + + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "'Don't you think Connie is a perfect + dear?'" (page 54) Frontispiece + + Brock 24 + + Katherine 44 + + "She began to detect a decided + falling off in his ardour" 74 + + "'I _do_ love you,' she said simply" 98 + + + + + +THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HUSBANDS AND WIFE + + +Brock was breakfasting out-of-doors in the cheerful little garden of the +Hotel Chatham. The sun streamed warmly upon the concrete floor of the +court just beyond the row of palms and oleanders that fringed the rail +against which his _Herald_ rested, that he might read as he ran, so to +speak. He was the only person having _dejeuner_ on the "terrace," as he +named it to the obsequious waiter who always attended him. Charles was +the magnet that drew Brock to the Chatham (that excellent French hotel +with the excellent English name). It is beside the question to remark +that one is obliged to reverse the English when directing a _cocher_ to +the Chatham. The Paris cabman looks blank and more than usually +unintelligent when directed to drive to the Chatham, but his face +radiates with joy when his fare is inspired to substitute Sha-_t'am_, +with distinct emphasis on the final syllable. Then he cracks his whip +and lashes his sorry nag, with passive appreciation of his own +astuteness, all the way to the Rue Daunou. The street is so short that +he almost invariably takes one to _it_ instead of to the hotel itself. +But one must say Sha-_t'am_! + +Charles was standing, alert but pensive, quite near at hand, ready to +replenish the bowl with honey (Brock was especially fond of it), but +with his eyes cocked inquiringly, even eagerly, in the direction of an +upstairs window across the court, beyond which a thoughtless guest of +the establishment was making her toilette in blissful ignorance of the +fact that the flimsy curtains were not tightly drawn. Brock had gone to +the Chatham for years just because Charles was a fixture there. Charles +spoke the most execrably picturesque English, served with a +punctiliousness that savoured almost of the overbearing, and boasted +that he had acquired the art of making American cocktails in the Waldorf +during a five weeks' residence in the United States. + +It was a lazy morning. Brock was happy. He was even interested when a +porter came forth and unravelled a long roll of garden hose, with which +he abruptly began to splash water upon the concrete surface of the court +without regard for distance or direction. Moreover, he proceeded to +water the palms at Brock's elbow, operating from a spot no less than +twenty feet away. He likewise was casting inquiring glances at divers +windows--few if any at the plants--until the faithful Charles restored +him to earth by means of certain subdued injunctions and less moderate +gesticulations, from which it could be readily gathered that "M'sieur +was eating, not bathing." Whereupon the utterly uncrushed porter +splashed water at right angles, much to Brock's relief, while all his +fellow porters, free or engaged, took up the quarrel with rare disregard +for cause or justice. A _femme de chambre_, from a convenient window, +joined in the hubbub without in the least knowing what it was all +about. Monsieur's comfort must be preserved: that seemed to be the issue +in which, at once, all were united. "M'sieur will pardon the boy," +apologised Charles in deepest humility, taking much for granted. "It +will be very warm to-day. Your _serviette_, M'sieur--it is damp. +Pardon!" He flew away and back with another napkin. "Of course, M'sieur, +the Chatham is not the Waldorf," he announced deprecatingly. +"_Parbleu_," beating himself on the forehead, "I forgot! M'sieur does +not like the Waldorf. _Eh, bien_, Paris is not New York, no." Having +sufficiently humbled Paris, he withdrew into the background, rubbing his +hands as if he were cleansing them of something unsightly. Brock spread +one of the buttered biscuits with honey and inwardly admitted that Paris +was _not_ New York. + +He was a good-looking chap of thirty or thereabouts, an American to the +core,--bright-eyed, keen-witted, smooth-faced, virile. From boyhood's +earliest days he had spent a portion of his summers in Europe. Two or +three years of his life had been employed in the Beaux Arts,--fruitful +years, for Brock had not wasted his opportunities. He had gone in for +architecture and building. To-day he stood high among the younger men in +New York,--prosperous, successful, and a menace to the old cry that a +son of the rich cannot thrive in his father's domain. Nowadays he came +to the Old World for his breathing spells. He was able to combine +dawdling and development without sacrificing one for the other, wherein +lies the proof that his vacations were not akin to those taken by most +of us. + +The fortnight in Paris was to be followed by a week in St. Petersburg +and a brief tour of Sweden and Norway. His stay in the gay city was +drawing to a close. That very morning he expected to book for St. +Petersburg, leaving in three days. + +Suddenly his glance fell upon a name in the society column before him, +"Roxbury Medcroft." His face lighted up with genuine pleasure. An old +friend, a boon companion in bygone days, was this same Medcroft,--a +broad-minded, broad-gauged young Englishman who had profited by a stay +of some years in the States. They had studied together in Paris and they +had toiled together in New York. This is what he read: "Mr. and Mrs. +Roxbury Medcroft, of London, are stopping at the Ritz, _en route_ to +Vienna. Mr. Medcroft will attend the meeting of Austrian Architects, to +be held there next week, and, with his wife, will afterwards spend a +fortnight in the German Alps, the guests of the Alfred Rodneys, of +Seattle." + +"Dear old Rox, I must look him up at once," mused Brock. "The Rodneys of +Seattle? Never heard of 'em." He looked at his watch, signed his check, +deposited the usual franc, acknowledged Charles's well-practised smile +of thanks, and pushed back his chair, his gaze travelling involuntarily +toward the portals of the American bar across the court, just beyond the +_concierge's_ quarters. Simultaneously a tall figure emerged from the +bar, casting eager glances in all directions,--a tall figure in a +checked suit, bowler hat, white reindeer gloves, high collar, and grey +spats. Brock came to his feet quickly. The monocle dropped from the +other's eye, and his long legs carried him eagerly toward the American. + +"Medcroft! Bless your heart! I was just on the point of looking you up +at the Ritz. It's good to see you," Brock cried as they clasped hands. + +"Of all the men and of all the times, Brock, you are the most +opportune," exclaimed the other. "I saw that you were here and bolted my +breakfast to catch you. These beastly telephones never work. Oh, I say, +old man, have you finished yours?" + +"Quite--but luckily I didn't have to bolt it. You're off for Vienna, I +see. Sit down, Rox. Won't you have another egg and a cup of coffee? Do!" + +"Thanks and no to everything you suggest. Wot you doing for the next +half-hour or so? I'm in a deuce of a dilemma and you've got to help me +out of it." The Englishman looked at his watch and fumbled it nervously +as he replaced it in his upper coat pocket. "That's a good fellow, +Brock. You _will_ be the ever present help in time of trouble, won't +you?" + +"My letter of credit is at your disposal, old man," said Brock promptly. +He meant it. It readily may be seen from this that their friendship is +no small item to be considered in the development of this tale. + +"My dear fellow, that's the very thing I'm eager to thrust upon you--my +letter of credit," exclaimed the other. + +"What's that?" demanded Brock. + +"I say, Brock, can't we go up to your rooms? Dead secret, you know. +Really, old chap, I mean it. No one must get a breath of it. That's why +I'm whispering. I'm not a lunatic, so don't stare like that. I'd do as +much for you if the conditions were reversed." + +"I dare say you would, Rox, but what the devil is it you want me to do?" + +"Do I appear to be agitated?" + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Well, I _am_. You know how I loathe asking a favour of anyone. +Besides, it's rather an extraordinary one I'm going to ask of you. Came +to me in a flash this morning when I saw your name in the paper. Sort of +inspiration, 'pon my word. I think Edith sees it the same as I, although +I haven't had time to go into it thoroughly with her. She's ripping, you +know; pluck to the very core." + +Brock's face expressed bewilderment and perplexity. + +"Won't you have another drink, old man?" he asked gently. + +"Another? Hang it all, I haven't had one in a week. Come along. I must +talk it all over with you before I introduce you to her. You must be +prepared." + +"Introduce me to whom?" demanded Brock, pricking up his ears. He was +following Medcroft to the elevator. + +"To my wife--Edith," said Medcroft, annoyed by the other's obtuseness. + +"Does it require preparation for an ordeal so charming?" laughed Brock. +He was recalling the fact that Medcroft had married a beautiful +Philadelphia girl some years ago in London, a young lady whom he had +never seen, so thoroughly expatriated had she become in consequence of +almost a lifetime residence in England. He remembered now that she was +rich and that he had sent her a ridiculously expensive present and a +congratulatory cablegram at the time of the wedding. Also, it occurred +to him that the Medcrofts had asked him to visit them at their +shooting-box for several seasons in succession, and that their town +house was always open to him. While he had not ignored the invitations, +he had never responded in person. He began to experience twinges of +remorse: Medcroft was such a good fellow! + +The Londoner did not respond to the innocuous query. He merely stared +in a preoccupied, determined manner at the succeeding _etages_ as they +slipped downward. At the fourth floor they disembarked, and Brock led +the way to his rooms, overlooking the inner court. Once inside, with the +door closed, he turned upon the Englishman. + +"Now, what's up, Rox? Are you in trouble?" he demanded. + +"Are we quite alone?" Medcroft glanced significantly at the transom and +the half-closed bathroom door. With a laugh, Brock led him into the +bathroom and out, and then closed the transom. + +"You're darned mysterious," he said, pointing to a chair near the +window. Medcroft drew another close up and seated himself. + +"Brock," he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward impressively, +"I want you to go to Vienna in my place." Brock stared hard. "You are a +godsend, old man. You're just in time to do me the greatest of favours. +It's utterly impossible for me to go to Vienna as I had planned, and yet +it is equally unwise for me to give up the project. You see, I've just +got to be in London and Vienna at the same time." + +"It will require something more than a stretch of the imagination to do +that, old man. But I'm game, and my plans are such that they can be +changed readily to oblige a friend. I shan't mind the trip in the least +and I'll be only too happy to help you out! 'Gad, I thought by your +manner that you were in some frightful difficulty. Have a cigaret." + +"By Jove, Brock, you're a brick," cried Medcroft, shaking the other's +hand vigorously. At the same time his face expressed considerable +uncertainty and no little doubt as to the further welfare of his as yet +partially divulged proposition. + +"It's easy to be a brick, my boy, if it involves no more than the +changing of a single letter in one's name. I'd like to attend the +convention, anyway," said Brock amiably. + +"Well, you see, Brock," said Medcroft lamely, "I fear you don't quite +appreciate the situation. I want you to pose as Roxbury Medcroft." + +"You--What do you mean?" + +"I thought you'd find that a facer. That's just it: you are to go to +Vienna as Roxbury Medcroft, not as yourself. Ha, ha! Ripping, eh?" + +"'Pon my soul, Rox, you are not in earnest?" + +"Never more so." + +"But, my dear fellow--" + +"You won't do it? That's what your tone means," in despair. + +"It isn't that, and you know it. I've got nothing to lose. It's you that +will have to suffer. You're known all over Europe. What will be said +when the trick is discovered? 'Gad, man!" + +"Then you will go?" with beaming eyes. "I knew it would appeal to you, +as an American." + +"What does it all mean?" + +"It's all very simple, if one looks at it from the right angle, Brock. +Up to last night, I was blissfully committed to the most delightful of +outings, so to speak. At ten o'clock everything was changed. Mrs. +Medcroft and I sat up all night discussing the situation with the +messenger--my solicitor, by the way. The Vienna trip is out of the +question, so far as I am concerned. It is of vital importance that I +should return to London to-night, but is even more vitally important +that the world should say that I am in Vienna. See what I mean?" + +"No, I'm hanged if I do." + +"What I have just heard from London makes me shudder to think of the +consequences if I go on east to-night. I may as well tell you that there +is a plot on foot to perpetrate a gigantic fraud against the people. The +County Council is to be hoodwinked out and out into moving forward +certain building projects, involving millions of the people's money. Our +firm has opposed a certain band of grafters, and when I left England it +was pretty well settled that we had blocked their game. They have +learned of my proposed absence and intend to steal a march on us while I +am away. Without assuming too much credit to myself, I may say that I, +your old friend, Roxbury, I am the one man who has proved the real thorn +in the sides of these scoundrels. With me out of the way, they feel that +they can secure the adoption of all these infamous measures. My partners +and the leaders on our side have sent for me to return secretly. They +won't bring the matter to issue if they find that I've returned; it +would be suicidal. Therefore it is necessary that we steal a march on +'em. I know the inside workings of the scheme. If I can steal back and +keep under cover as an advisory chief, so to speak, we can well afford +to let 'em rush the matter through, for then we can spring the coup and +defeat them for good and all. But, don't you see, old man, unless they +_know_ that I've gone to Vienna they won't undertake the thing. That's +why I'm asking you to go on to Vienna and pose as Roxbury Medcroft +while I steal back to London and set the charge under these demmed +bloodsuckers. Really, you know, it's a terribly serious matter, Brock. +It means fortune and honour to me, as well as millions to the +rate-payers of Greater London. All you've got to do is to register at +the Bristol, get interviewed by the papers, attend one or two sessions +of the convention, which lasts three days, and then go off into the +mountains with the Rodneys,--the society reporters will do the rest." + +"With the Rodneys? My dear fellow, suppose that they object to the +substitution! Really, you know, it's not to be thought of." + +"Deuce take it, man, the Rodneys are not to know that there has been a +substitution. Perfectly simple, can't you see?" + +"I'm damned if I do." + +"What a stupid ass you are, Brock! The Rodneys have never laid eyes on +me. They know of me as Edith's husband, that's all. They are to take you +in as Medcroft, of course." + +At this point Brock set up an emphatic remonstrance. He began by +laughing his friend to scorn; then, as Medcroft persisted, went so far +as to take him severely to task for the proposed imposition on the +unsuspecting Rodneys, to say nothing of the trick he would play upon the +convention of architects. + +"I'd be recognised as an impostor," he said warmly, "and booted out of +the convention. I shudder to think of what Mr. Rodney will do to me when +he learns the truth. Why, Medcroft, you must be crazy. There will be +dozens of architects there who know you personally or by sight. You--" + +"My dear boy, if they don't see me there, they can't very well +recognise me, can they? If necessary, you can affect an illness and stay +away from the sessions altogether. Give a statement to the press from +the privacy of the sickroom--regret your inability to take part in the +discussions, and all that, you know. Hire a nurse, if necessary. You +might venture to express an opinion or two on vital topics, in my name. +I don't care a hang what you say. I only want 'em to think I'm there. No +doubt our enemies will have a spy or two hanging about to see that I am +actually off for a jaunt with the Rodneys, but they will be Viennese and +they won't know me from Adam. What's the odds, so long as Edith is there +to stand by you? If she's willing to assume that you are her husband--" + +"Good Lord!" half shouted Brock, leaping to his feet, wide-eyed. "You +don't mean to say that she is--is--is to go to Vienna with me?" + +"Emphatically, yes. She's also invited. Of course, she's going." + +"You mean that she's going just as you are going--by proxy?" murmured +Brock helplessly. + +"Proxy, the devil! 'Pon my soul, Brock, you're downright stupid. She +can't have a proxy. They know her. The Rodneys are in some way +connections of hers, and all that--third cousins. If she isn't there to +vouch for you, how the deuce can you expect to--" + +"Medcroft, you _are_ crazy! No one but an insane man would submit his +wife to--Why, good Lord, man, think of the scandal! She won't have a +shred left--" + +"At the proper time the matter will be explained to the Rodneys,--not at +first, you know,--and I'll be in a position to step into your shoes +before the party returns to Paris. Afterwards the whole trick will be +exposed to the world, and she'll be a heroine." + +"I'm absolutely paralysed!" mumbled Brock. + +"Brace up, old chap. I'm going to take you around to the Ritz at once to +introduce you to my wife--to your wife, I might say. She'll be waiting +for us, and, take my word for it, she's in for the game. She appreciates +its importance. Come now, Brock, it means so little to you, and it means +everything to me. You will do this for me? For us?" + +For ten minutes Brock protested, his argument growing weaker and weaker +as the true humour of the project developed in his mind. He came at last +to realise that Medcroft was in earnest, and that the situation was as +serious as he pictured it. The Englishman's plea was unusual, but it was +not as rattle-brained as it had seemed at the outset. Brock was +beginning to see the possibilities that the ruse contained; to say the +least, he would be running little or no risk in the event of its +miscarriage. In spite of possible unpleasant consequences, there were +the elements of a rare lark in the enterprise; he felt himself being +skilfully guided past the pitfalls and dangers. + +"I shall insist upon talking it over thoroughly with Mrs. Medcroft +before consenting," he said in the end. "If she's being bluffed into the +game, I'll revoke like a flash. If she's keen for the adventure, I'll +go, Rox. But I've got to see her first and talk it all over--" + +"'Pon my word, old chap, she's ripping, awfully good sort, even though I +say it myself. She's true blue, and she'll do anything for me. You see, +Brock," and his voice grew very tender, "she loves me. I'm sure of her. +There isn't a nobler wife in the world than mine. Nor a prettier one, +either," he concluded, with fine pride in his eyes. "You won't be +ashamed of her. You will be proud of the chance to point her out as your +wife, take my word for it." Then they set out for the Ritz. + +"Roxbury," said Brock soberly, when they were in the Rue de la Paix, +after walking two blocks in contemplative silence, "my peace of mind is +poised at the brink of an abyss. I have a feeling that I am about to +chuck it over." + +"Nonsense. You'll buck up when Edith has had a fling at you." + +"I suppose I'm to call her Edith." + +"Certainly, and I won't mind a 'dear' or two when it seems propitious. +It's rather customary, you know, even among the unhappily married. Of +course, I've always been opposed to kissing or caressing in public; it's +so middle-class." + +"And I daresay Mrs. Medcroft will object to it in private," lamented +Brock good-naturedly. + +"I daresay," said her husband cheerfully. "She's your wife in public +only. By the way, you'll have to get used to the name of Roxbury. Don't +look around as if you expected to find me standing behind your back when +she says, 'Roxbury, dear!' I shan't be there, you know. She'll mean you. +Don't forget that." + +"Oh, I say," exclaimed Brock, halting abruptly, and staring in dismay at +the confident conspirator, "will I have to wear a suit of clothes like +that, and an eyeglass, and--and--good Lord! spats?" + +"By Jove, you shall wear this very suit!" cried Medcroft, inspired. +"We're of a size, and it won't fit you any better than it does me. Our +clothes never fit us in London. Clever idea of yours, Brock, to think of +it. And, here! We'll stop at this shop and pick up a glass. You can +have all day for practice with it. And, I say, Brock, don't you think +you can cultivate a--er--little more of an English style of speech? That +twang of yours won't--" + +"Heavens, man, I'm to be a low comedian, too," gasped Brock, as he was +fairly pushed onto the shop. Three minutes later they were on the +sidewalk, and Brock was in possession of an object he had scorned most +of all things in the world,--a monocle. + +Arm in arm, they sauntered into the Ritz. Medcroft retained his clasp on +his friend's elbow as they went up in the lift, after the fashion of one +who fears that his victim is contemplating flight. As they entered the +comfortable little sitting-room of the suite, a young woman rose +gracefully from the desk at which she had been writing. With perfect +composure she smiled and extended her slim hand to the American as he +crossed the room with Medcroft's jerky introduction dinging in his ears. + +"My old friend Brock, dear. He has consented to be your husband. You've +never met your wife, have you, old man?" A blush spread over her +exquisite face. + +"Oh, Roxbury, how embarrassing! He hasn't even proposed to me. So glad +to meet you, Mr. Brock. I've been trying to picture what you would look +like, ever since Roxbury went out to find you. Sit here, please, near +me. Roxbury, has Mr. Brock really fallen into your terrible trap? Isn't +it the most ridiculous proceeding, Mr. Brock--" + +"Call him Roxbury, my dear. He's fully prepared for it. And now let's +get down to business. He insists upon talking it over with you. You +don't mind me being present, do you, Brock? I daresay I can help you +out a bit. I've been married four years." + +For an hour the trio discussed the situation from all sides and in all +its phases. When Brock arose to take his departure, he was irrevocably +committed to the enterprise; he was, moreover, completely enchanted by +the vista of harmless fun and sweet adventure that stretched before him. +He went away with his head full of the brilliant, quick-witted, loyal +young American who was entering so heartily into the plot to deceive her +own friends for the time being in order that her husband might profit in +high places. + +"She _is_ ripping," he said to Medcroft in the hallway. All of the plans +had been made and all of them had been approved by the young wife. She +had shown wonderful perspicacity and foresight in the matter of details; +her capacity for selection and disposal was even more comprehensive than +that of the two men, both of whom were somewhat staggered by the +boldness of more than one suggestion which came from her fruitful +storehouse of romantic ideas. She had grasped the full humour of the +situation, from inception to _denouement_, and, to all appearance, was +heart and soul deep in the venture, despising the risks because she knew +that succour was always at her elbow in the shape of her husband's loyal +support. There was no condition involved which could not be explained to +her credit; adequate compensation for the merry sacrifice was to be had +in the brief detachment from rigid English conventionality, in the +hazardous injection of quixotism into an otherwise overly healthful life +of platitudes. Society had become the sepulchre of youthful +inspirations; she welcomed the resurrection. The exquisite delicacy with +which she analysed the cost and computed the interest won for her the +warmest regard of her husband's friend, fellow conspirator in a plot +which involved the subtlest test of loyalty and honour. + +"Yes," said Medcroft simply. "You won't have reason to change your +opinion, Brock." He hesitated for a moment and then burst out, rather +plaintively: "She's an awfully good sort, demme, she is. And so are you, +Brock,--it's mighty decent of you. You're the only man in all the world +that I could or would have asked to do this for me. You are my best +friend, Brock,--you always have been." He seized the American's hand and +wrung it fervently. Their eyes met in a long look of understanding and +confidence. + +"I'll take good care of her," said Brock quietly. + +"I know you will. Good-by, then. I'll see you late this afternoon. You +leave this evening at seven-twenty by the Orient Express. I've had the +reservations booked and--and--" He hesitated, a wry smile on his lips, +"I daresay you won't mind making a pretence of looking after the luggage +a bit, will you?" + +"I shall take this opportunity to put myself in training against the day +when I may be travelling away with a happy bride of my own. By the way, +how long am I expected to remain in this state of matrimonial bliss? +That's no small detail, you know, even though it escaped for the +moment." + +"Three weeks." + +"Three weeks?" He almost reeled. + +"That's a long time in these days of speedy divorces," said Medcroft +blandly. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SISTER-IN-LAW + + +The Gare de l'Est was thronged with people when Brock appeared, fully +half an hour before departing time. In no little dismay, he found +himself wondering if the whole of Paris was going away or, on the other +hand, if the rest of the continent was arriving. He felt a fool in +Medcroft's unspeakable checked suit; and the eyeglass was a much more +obstinate, untractable thing than he had even suspected it could be. The +right side of his face was in a condition of semi-paralysis due to the +muscular exactions required; he had a sickening fear that the scowl that +marked his brow was destined to form a perpetual alliance with the smirk +at the corner of his nose, forever destroying the symmetry of his face. +If one who has not the proper facial construction will but attempt the +feat of holding a monocle in place for unbroken hours, he may come to +appreciate at least one of the trials which beset poor Brock. + +Every one seemed to be staring at him. He heard more than one American +in the scurrying throng say to another, "English," and he felt relieved +until an Englishman or two upset his confidence by brutally alluding to +him as a "confounded American toady." + +It was quite train time before Mrs. Medcroft was seen hurrying in from +the carriage way, pursued by a trio of _facteurs_, laden with bags and +boxes. + +"Don't shake hands," she warned in a quick whisper, as they came +together. "I recognised you by the clothes." + +"Thank God, it wasn't my face!" he cried. "Are your trunks checked?" + +"Yes,--this afternoon. I have nothing but the bags. You have the +tickets? Then let us get aboard. I just couldn't get here earlier," she +whispered guiltily. "We had to say good-by, you know. Poor old Roxy! How +he hated it! I sent Burton and O'Brien on ahead of me. My sister brought +them here in her carriage, and I daresay they're aboard and abed by this +time. You didn't see them? But of course you wouldn't know my maids. How +stupid of me! Don't be alarmed. They have their instructions, Roxbury. +Doesn't it sound odd to you?" + +Brock was icy-cold with apprehension as they walked down the line of +_wagon-lits_ in the wake of the bag-bearers. Mrs. Medcroft was as +self-possessed and as _degage_ as he was ill at ease and awkward. As +they ascended the steps of the carriage, she turned back to him and +said, with the most malicious twinkle in her eyes,-- + +"I'm not a bit nervous." + +"But you've been married so much longer than I have," he responded. + +Then came the disposition of the bags and parcels. She calmly directed +the porters to put the overflow into the upper berth. The _garde_ came +up to remonstrate in his most rapid French. + +"But where is M'sieur to sleep if the bags go up there?" he argued. + +Mrs. Medcroft dropped her toilet bag and turned to Brock with startled +eyes, her lips parted. He was standing in the passage, his two bags at +his feet, an aroused gleam in his eyes. A deep flush overspread her +face; an expression of utter rout succeeded the buoyancy of the moment +before. + +"Really," she murmured and could go no farther. The loveliest pucker +came into her face. Brock waved the _garde_ aside. + +"It's all right," he explained. "I shan't occupy the--I mean, I'll take +one of the other compartments." As the _garde_ opened his lips to +protest, she drew Brock inside the compartment and closed the door. Mrs. +Medcroft was agitated. + +"Oh, what a wretched _contretemps_!" she cried in despair. "Roxy has +made a frightful mess of it, after all. He has _not_ taken a compartment +for you. I'm--I'm afraid you'll have to take this one and--and let me go +in with--" + +"Nonsense!" he broke in. "Nothing of the sort! I'll find a bed, never +fear. I daresay there's plenty of room on the train. You shan't sleep +with the servants. And don't lie awake blaming poor old Rox. He's +lonesome and unhappy, and he--" + +"But he has a place to sleep," she lamented. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Brock. +It's perfectly horrid, and I'm--I'm dreadfully afraid you won't be able +to get a berth. Roxbury tried yesterday for a lower for himself." + +"And he--couldn't get one?" + +"No, Mr. Brock. But I'll ask the maids to give up their--" + +"Please, please don't worry--and please don't call me Mr. Brock. I hate +the name. Good night! Now don't think about me. I'll be all right. +You'll find me as gay as a lark in the morning." + +He did not give her a chance for further protest, but darted out of the +compartment. As he closed the door he had the disquieting impression +that she was sitting upon the edge of her berth, giggling hysterically. + +The _garde_ listened to his demand for a separate compartment with the +dejection of a capable French attendant who is ever ready with joint +commiseration and obduracy. No, he was compelled to inform Monsieur the +American (to the dismay of the pseudo-Englishman) it would be impossible +to arrange for another compartment. The train was crowded to its +capacity. Many had been turned away. No, a louis would not be of avail. +The deepest grief and anguish filled his soul to see the predicament of +Monsieur, but there was no relief. + +Brock's miserable affectation of the English drawl soon gave way to +sharp, emphatic Americanisms. It was after eight o'clock and the train +was well under way. The street lamps were getting fewer and fewer, and +the soft, fresh air of the suburbs was rushing through the window. + +"But, hang it all, I _can't_ sit up all night!" growled Brock in +exasperated finality. + +"Monsieur forgets that he has a berth. It is not the fault of the +_compagnie_ that he is without a bed. Did not M'sieur book the +compartment himself? _Tres bien!_" + +As the result of strong persuasion, the _garde_ consented to make "the +grand tour" of the train de luxe in search of a berth. It goes without +saying that he was intensely mystified by Brock's incautious remark that +he would be satisfied with "an upper if he couldn't do any better." For +the life of him, Monsieur the _garde_ could not comprehend the +situation. He went away, shaking his head and looking at the tickets, as +much as to say that an American is never satisfied--not even with the +best. + +Brock lowered a window-seat in the passage and sat down, staring blankly +and blackly out into the whizzing night. The predicament had come upon +him so suddenly that he had not until now found the opportunity to +analyse it in its entirety. The worst that could come of it, of course, +was the poor comfort of a night in a chair. He knew that it was a train +of sleeping-coaches--Ah! He suddenly remembered the luggage van! As a +last resort, he might find lodging among the trunks! + +And then, too, there was something irritating in the suspicion that she +had laughed as if it were a huge joke--perhaps, even now, she was +doubled up in her narrow couch, stifling the giggle that would not be +suppressed. + +When the _garde_ came back with the lugubrious information that nothing, +positively nothing, was to be had, it is painful to record that Brock +swore in a manner which won the deepest respect of the trainman. + +"At four o'clock in the morning, M'sieur, an old gentleman and his wife +will get out at Strassburg, their destination. They are in this carriage +and you may take their compartment, if M'sieur will not object to +sleeping in a room just vacated by two mourners who to-day buried a +beloved son in Paris. They have kept all of the flowers in their--" + +"Four o'clock! Good Lord, what am I to do till then?" groaned Brock, +glaring with unmanly hatred at the door of the Medcroft compartment. + +"Perhaps Madame may be willing to take the upper--" ventured the guard +timorously, but Brock checked him with a peremptory gesture. He +proposed, instead, the luggage van, whereupon the guard burst into a +psalm of utter dejection. It was against the rules, irrevocably. + +"Then I guess I'll have to sit here all night," said Brock faintly. He +was forgetting his English. + +"If M'sieur will not occupy his own bed, yes," said the guard, shrugging +his shoulders and washing his hands of the whole incomprehensible +affair. "M'sieur will then be up to receive the Customs officers at the +frontier. Perhaps he will give me the keys to Madame's trunks, so that +she may not be disturbed." + +"Ask her for 'em yourself," growled Brock, after one dazed moment of +dismay. + +The hours crawled slowly by. He paced the length of the wriggling +corridor a hundred times, back and forth; he sat on every window-seat in +the carriage; he nodded and dozed and groaned, and laughed at himself in +the deepest derision all through the dismal night. Daylight came at +four; he saw the sun rise for the first time in his life. He neither +enjoyed nor appreciated the novelty. Never had he witnessed anything so +mournfully depressing as the first grey tints that crept up to mock him +in his vigil; never had he seen anything so ghastly as the soft red glow +that suffused the morning sky. + +"I'll sleep all day if I ever get into that damned bed," he said to +himself, bitterly wistful. + +The Customs officers had eyed him suspiciously at the border. They +evidently had been told of his strange madness in refusing to occupy the +berth he had paid for. Their examination of his effects was more +thorough than usual. It may have entered their heads that he was +standing guard over the repose of a fair accomplice. They asked so many +embarrassing and disconcerting questions that he was devoutly relieved +when they passed on, still suspicious. + +The train was late, and at five o'clock he was desperately combating an +impulse to leave it at Strassburg, find lodging in a hotel, and then, +refreshed, set out for London to have it out with the malevolent +Medcroft. The disembarking of the venerable mourners, however, restored +him to a degree of his peace of mind. After all, he reviewed, it would +be cowardly and base to desert a trusting wife; he pictured her as +asleep and securely confident in his stanchness. No: he would have it +out with Medcroft at some later day. + +He was congratulating himself on the acquisition of a bed--although it +might possess the odour of a bed of tuberoses--when all of his pleasant +calculations were upset by the appearance of a German burgher and his +family. It was then that he learned that these people had booked _le +compartement_ from Strassburg to Munich. + +Brock resumed his window-seat and despondently awaited the call to +breakfast. He fell sound asleep with his monocle in position; nor did it +matter to him that his hat dropped through the window and went scuttling +off across the green Rhenish fields. When next he looked at his watch, +it was eight o'clock. A small boy was standing at the end of the +passage, staring wide-eyed at him. Two little girls came piling, half +dressed, from a compartment, evidently in response to the youngster's +whispered command to hurry out and see the funny man. Brock scowled +darkly, and the trio darted swiftly into the compartment. + +He dragged his stiff legs into the dining-car at Stuttgart and shoved +them under a table. The car was quite empty. As he was staring blankly +at the menu, the _conducteur_ from his car hurried in with the word that +Madame would not breakfast until nine. She was still very sleepy. Would +Monsieur Medcroft be good enough to order her coffee and rolls brought +to her compartment at that hour? And would he mind seeing that the maid +saw to it that Raggles surely had his biscuit and a walk at the next +station? + +"Raggles?" queried Brock, passing his hand over his brow. The other +shrugged his shoulders and looked askance. "Oh, yes,--I--understand," +murmured the puzzled one, recovering himself. For the next ten minutes +he wondered who Raggles could be. + +He had eaten his strawberries and was waiting for the eggs and coffee, +resentfully eying the early risers who were now coming in for their +coffee and rolls. They had slept--he could tell by the complacent manner +in which their hair was combed and by the interest they found in the +scenery which he had come, by tedious familiarity, to loathe and scorn. + +The actions of two young women near the door attracted his attention. +From their actions he suddenly gathered that they were discussing +him,--and in a more or less facetious fashion, at that. They whispered +and looked shy and grinned in a most disconcerting manner. He turned red +about the ears and began to wonder, fiercely, why his eggs and coffee +were so slow in coming. Then, to his consternation, the young women, +plainly of the serving-class, bore down upon him with abashed smiles. He +noticed for the first time that one of them was carrying a very small +child in her arms; as she came alongside, grinning sheepishly, she +extended the small one toward the astounded Brock, and said in excellent +old English: + +[Illustration: Brock] + +"Good morning, Mr. Medcroft." Then, with a rare inspiration, "Baby, +kiss papa--come, now." + +She pushed the infant almost into Brock's face. He did not observe that +it was a beautiful child and that it had a look of terror in its eyes; +he only knew that he was glaring wildly at the fiendish nurse, the truth +slowly beating its way into his be-addled brain. For a full minute he +stared as if petrified. Then, administering a sickly grin, he sought to +bring his wits up to the requirements of the extraordinary situation. He +lifted his hand and mumbled: "Come, Raggles! I haven't a biscuit, but +here, have a roll, do. Give me a--a kiss!" He added the last in most +heroic surrender. + +The nurse and the maid stared hard at him; the baby turned in affright +to cling closely to the neck of the former. + +"Good Lord, sir," whispered the nurse, with a nervous glance about her; +"this ain't Raggles, sir. _This_ is a baby." + +"Do you think I'm blind, madam?" whispered he, savagely. "I can see it's +a baby, but I didn't know there was to be one. Its father didn't mention +it to me." + +"It's a wise father that knows his own child," said the nurse, with +prompt sarcasm. + +"I think they should have prepared me for this," growled he. "Is it +supposed to be mine? Does--does Mrs. Medcroft know about it?" + +"You mean, about the baby, sir? Of course she does. It's hers. Please +don't look so odd, sir. My word, sir, I didn't know you didn't know it, +sir. I wasn't told, was I, O'Brien? There, sir, you see! Mrs. Medcroft +said as I was to bring Tootles in to you, sir. She said--" + +"Tootles?" murmured Brock. "Tootles and Raggles. I daresay there's a +distinction without much of a difference. Are you Burton?" + +"Yes, Mr. Medcroft. The nurse. Won't you take baby for a minute, sir? +Just to get acquainted, and for appearance's sake." She whispered the +well-meant entreaty. Brock, now well into the spirit of the situation, +obligingly extended his arms. The baby set up a lusty howl of aversion. + +"For God's sake, take him back to his mother!" groaned Brock hastily. +"He doesn't like strangers! Take him away!" + +"It isn't a he, sir," whispered the maid, as the nurse prepared to beat +a hasty retreat with the Medcroft offspring. "It's a her, sir." + +Brock's face was a study in perplexity as they hurried from the car. + +"By George," he muttered, "what next!" + +That which did come next was even more amazing than the unexpected +advent of Tootles. He barely had recovered his equanimity--with his +coffee--when a young lady entered the car. That, of itself, was not much +to speak of, but what followed was something that not even he could have +dreamed of if he had been given the chance. He afterward recalled, in +some distress of mind, that his second quick glance at the newcomer +developed into little less than a rude stare of admiration. Small +wonder, let it be advanced in his defence. + +She was astoundingly fair to look upon--dazzling, it might be said, with +some support to the adjective. Moreover, she was looking directly into +his eyes from her unstable position near the door; what was more, a shy, +even mischievous, smile crept into her face as her glance caught his. +Never had he seen a more exquisite face than hers; never had he looked +upon a more perfect picture of grace and loveliness and--aye, smartness. +She was smiling with unmistakable friendliness and recognition, and yet +he could have sworn he had not seen her before in his life. As if he +could have forgotten such a face! A sudden sense of enchantment swept +over him, indescribable, yet delicious. + +She was coming toward him--still smiling shyly, her lips parted as if +she were breathing quickly from fear or another emotion. He set down his +coffee-cup without regard to taste or direction, his gaze fixed upon the +trim, slender figure in blue. He now saw that her dark eyes were filled +with a soft seriousness that belied her brave smile; a delicate pink had +come into her clear, high-bred face; the hesitancy of the gentlewoman +enveloped her with a mantle that shielded her from any suspicion of +boldness. Brock struggled to his feet, amazement written in his face. + +"Good morning, Roxbury," she said, in the most impersonal of greetings. +Her smile deepened as the blankness increased in his face. In the most +casual, matter-of-fact manner, she appropriated the chair across the +table from his. "Please sit down, Roxy." + +He sat down abruptly. For a single, tense, abashed moment they looked +searchingly into each other's eyes. + +"Are you Raggles?" he asked politely. + +"You poor man!" she cried, aghast. "Raggles is Edith's French poodle. +Has no one told you of the poodle?" She half whispered this. He began to +adore her at that very moment,--a circumstance well worth remembering. + +"No one has told me of _you_, for that matter," he apologised, +thrilling with a delight such as he had never known before. "Would you +mind whispering to me just who you are? Am I supposed to be your +father--or what?" + +"It is all so delightfully casual, isn't it?" she said. "I daresay they +forgot to tell you that you are a man of family. Didn't they mention me +in any way at all?" She pouted very prettily. + +"No, they ignored you and Raggles and Tootles. Are there any more in my +family that I haven't met?" + +"You see, we got to the station quite a bit ahead of Edith. That's how +you happened to miss meeting us. We saw you there, however. I recognised +you by your clothes. You seemed very unhappy. Oh, I forgot. You wanted +to know who I am. Well, I am your sister-in-law." She ordered coffee and +toast while he sat there figuring it out. When the waiter departed, he +leaned forward and said quite frankly,-- + +"You'll pardon me, I'm sure, but I can't understand how I was so +short-sighted as to marry your sister." + +"Well, you see, you didn't catch a glimpse of me until after you were +married," she railed. "I was in the Sacred Heart convent, you remember." + +"Ah, that explains the oversight. I am considered an unusually +discriminating person. Let me see: I married a Miss Fowler, didn't I?" + +"Yes, Roxbury. Four years ago, in London, at St. George's, in Hanover +Square, at four o'clock, on a Saturday. Didn't they tell you all that?" + +"I don't think they said anything about it being four o'clock. I'm glad +to know the awful details, believe me. Thanks! Do you know I decided you +were an American the instant I saw you in the door," he went on, quite +irrelevantly. + +"How clever of you, Roxbury!" + +"Oh, I say, Miss Fowler, I'm not such an ass as I look, really I'm not. +I'm trying to look like--" + +"'Sh! If you want me to believe you are not the ass you think you look, +be careful what you say. Remember I am _not_ Miss Fowler to you. I am +Constance--sometimes Connie. Can you remember that,--Roxbury?" + +He drew a long breath. "Oh, I say, Connie, I'd much rather be plain +Brock to you." + +"Please don't forget that I am doing this for my sister,--not for +myself, by any manner of means," she said stiffly. He flushed painfully, +conscious of the rebuke. + +"Please overlook my faults for the time being," he said. "I'll do +better. You see, I've been rather overcome by the sense of my own +importance. I'm not used to being the head of an establishment. It has +dazed me. A great many things have happened to me since I left the Gare +de l'Est last night." He was considerate in not referring to his unhappy +mode of travelling. "For instance, I've completely lost my head." He +might have said hat, but that would have sounded commonplace and earthy. + +"One does, you know, when he loses his identity," she said +sympathetically. "Edith says you are ripping, and all that sort of +thing," she went on hurriedly, in perfect mimicry. "You come very highly +recommended as a brother-in-law." + +"Are you to be with us until the end of the play?" + +"Yes. The Rodneys are my friends, not Edith's. Katherine Rodney was in +the convent with me. We see a great deal of each other. I'm sure you +will like her. Everybody falls dreadfully in love with her." + +"How very amiable of you to permit it," he protested gallantly. "I'm +sure I shall enjoy falling in love. Which reminds me that I've never had +a sister-in-law. They're very nice, I'm told. It's odd that Medcroft +didn't tell me about you. Would you mind advancing a bit of general +information about yourself--and, I may say, about my family in general? +It may come handy." + +"I feel as though I had known you for years," she said, frankly +returning his gaze. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her +chin in her hands. "I'm merely Edith's sister. We live in Paris,--that +is, father and I. I'm three years younger than Edith. Of course, you +know how old your wife is, so we won't dwell upon that. You don't? Then +I'd demand it of her. I haven't been in Philadelphia since I was +seven--and that's ages ago. I have no mother, and father is off in South +America on business. So, you see, little sister has to tag after big +sister. Oh!" She interrupted the recital with an abrupt change of +manner. "I'm so sorry you've finished your coffee. Now you'll have to +go. Roxbury always does." + +"But I haven't finished," he exclaimed eagerly. "I'm going to have three +or four more pots. You have no idea how--" + +"It's all right then," she said with her rarest and most confident +smile. "Well, Edith asked me to come to London for the season. The +Rodneys were in Paris at the time, however, and they had asked me to +join them for a fortnight in the Tyrol. When I said that I was off for a +visit with the--with you, I mean--they insisted that you all should come +too. They are connections, in a way, don't you see. So we accepted. And +here we are." + +"You don't, by any chance, happen to be engaged to be married, or +anything of that sort," he ventured. "Don't crush me! It's only as a +safeguard, you know. People may ask questions." + +"You are not obliged to answer them, Roxbury," she said. The flush had +deepened in her cheek. It convinced him that she _was_ in love--and +engaged. He experienced a queer sinking of the heart. "You can say that +you don't know, if anyone should be so rude as to ask." Suddenly she +caught her breath and stared at him in a sort of panic. "Heavens," she +whispered, the toast poised half-way to her lips, "_you_'re not, by any +chance, engaged, are you? Appalling thought!" + +He laughed delightedly. "People won't ask about me, my dear Constance. +I'm already married, you know. But if anyone _should_ ask, you're not +obliged to answer." + +She looked troubled and uncertain. "You may be really married, after +all," she speculated. "Who knows? Poor old Roxbury wouldn't have had the +tact to inquire." + +"I am a henpecked bachelor, believe me." + +For the next quarter of an hour they chatted in the liveliest, most +inconsequential fashion, getting on excellent terms with each other and +arriving at a fair sense of appreciation of what lay ahead of them in +the shape of peril and adventure. + +She was the most delightful person he had ever met, as well as being the +most beautiful. There was a sprightly, ever-growing air of self-reliance +about her that charmed and reassured him. She possessed the capacity for +divining the sane and the ridiculous with splendid discrimination. +Moreover, she could jest and be serious with an impartial intelligence +that gratified his vanity without in the least inspiring the suspicion +that she was merely clever. He became blissfully imbued with the idea +that she had surprised herself by the discovery that he was really quite +attractive. In fact, he was quite sincerely pleased with himself--for +which he may be pardoned if one stops to think how resourceful a woman +of tact may be if she is very, very pretty. + +And, by way of further analogy, Brock was a thoroughly likable chap, +beside being handsome and a thoroughbred to the core. It's not betraying +a secret to affirm, cold-bloodedly, that Miss Fowler had not allied +herself with the enterprise until after she had pinned Roxbury down to +facts concerning Brock's antecedents. She was properly relieved to find +that he came of a fine old family and that he had led more than one +cotillion in New York. + +He experienced a remarkable change of front in respect to Roxbury +Medcroft before the breakfast was over. It may have been due to the +spell of her eyes or to the call of her voice, but it remains an +unchallenged fact that he no longer thought of Medcroft as a stupid +bungler; instead, he had come to regard him as a good and irreproachable +Samaritan. All of which goes to prove that a divinity shapes our ends, +rough hew them how we may. + +"I'm sure we shall get on famously," he said, as she signified her +desire to return to the compartment. "I've always longed for a nice, +agreeable sister-in-law." + +"Her mission in life, up to a certain stage, is to make the man +appreciate the fact that he has, after all, been snapped up by a small +but deserving family," she said blithely. "It is also her duty to pour +oil on troubled waters and strew flowers along the connubial highway, +so long as her kind offices are not resented. By the way, Roxbury, I am +now about to preserve you from bitter reproaches. You have forgotten to +order coffee and rolls for your wife." + +"Great Scott! So I have! It's nine o'clock." He ordered the coffee and +rolls to be sent in at once. "I hope she hasn't starved to death." + +"My dear Roxbury," she said sternly, "I must take you under my wing. You +have much to accomplish in the next twenty-four hours, not the least of +your duties being the subjugation of Tootles and Raggles. Tootles is +fifteen months old, it may interest you to know. We can't afford to have +Tootles scream with terror every time she sees you, and it would be most +unfortunate if Raggles should growl and snap at you as he does at all +suspicious strangers. Once in a while he bites too. Do you like babies?" + +"Yes, I--I think I do," he said doubtingly. "I daresay I could cultivate +a taste for 'em. But, I say," with eager enthusiasm, "I love dogs!" + +"It may be distinctly in your favour that Raggles loathes the real +Roxbury. He growls every time that Roxy kisses Edith." + +"Has he ever bitten Roxy for it?" + +"No," dubiously, "but Roxy has had to kick him on several occasions." + +"How very tiresome,--to kick and kiss at the same time." + +"Raggles is very jealous, you understand." + +"That's more than I can say for dear old Roxy. But I'll try to +anticipate Raggles by compelling Edith to keep her distance," he said, +scowling darkly. "Has it not occurred to you that Tootles will be +pretty--er--much of a nuisance when it comes to mountain climbing?" He +felt his way carefully in saying this. + +"Oh, dear me, Roxbury, would you have left the poor little darling at +home--in all that dreadful heat?" + +"I'm sure I couldn't have been blamed for leaving her at home," he +protested. "She didn't exist until half an hour ago. Heavens! how they +do spring up!" + +The remainder of Brock's day was spent in getting acquainted with his +family--or, rather, his _menage_. There were habits and foibles, demands +and restrictions, that he had to adapt himself to with unvarying +benignity. He made a friend of Raggles without half trying; dogs always +took to him, he admitted modestly. Tootles was less vulnerable. She +howled consistently at each of his first half-dozen advances; his +courage began to wane with shocking rapidity; his next half-hearted +advances were in reality inglorious retreats. Spurred on by the +sustaining Constance, he stood by his guns and at last was gratified to +see faint signs of surrender. By midday he had conquered. Tootles +permitted him to carry her up and down the station platform (she was too +young to realise the risk she ran). Edith and Constance, with the +beaming nurse and O'Brien, applauded warmly when he returned from his +first promenade, bearing Tootles and proudly heeled by Raggles. Fond +mothers in the crowd of hurrying travellers found time to look upon him +and smile as if to say, "What a nice man!" He could almost hear them +saying it. Which, no doubt, accounted for the intense ruddiness of his +cheeks. + +"Do you ever spank her?" he demanded once of Mrs. Medcroft, after +Tootles had brought tears to his eyes with a potent attack upon his +nose. She caught the light of danger in his grey eyes and hastily +snatched the offending Tootles from his arms. + +Miss Fowler kept him constantly at work with his eyeglass and his +English, neither of which he was managing well enough to please her +critical estimate. In fact, he laboured all day with the persistence, if +not the sullenness, of a hard-driven slave. He did not have time to +become tired. There was always something new to be done or learned or +unlearned: his day was full to overflowing. He was a man of family! + +The wife of his bosom was tranquillity itself. She was enjoying herself. +When not amusing herself by watching Brock's misfortunes, she was +napping or reading or sending out for cool drinks. With all the +selfishness of a dutiful wife, she was content to shift responsibilities +upon that ever convenient and useful creature--a detached sister. + +Brock sent telegrams for her from cities along the way,--Ulm, Munich, +Salzburg, and others,--all meant for the real Roxbury in London, but +sent to a fictitious being in Great Russell Street, the same having been +agreed upon by at least two of the conspirators. It mattered little that +she repeated herself monotonously in regard to the state of health of +herself and Tootles. Roxbury would doubtless enjoy the protracted +happiness brought on by these despatches, even though they got him out +of bed or missed him altogether until they reached him in a bunch the +next day. He may also have been gratified to hear from Munich that +Roxbury was perfectly lovely. She said, in the course of her longest +despatch, that she was so glad that the baby was getting to like her +father more and more as the day wore on. + +At one station Brock narrowly escaped missing the train. He swung +himself aboard as the cars were rolling out of the sheds. As he sank, +hot and exhausted, into the seat opposite his wife and her sister, the +former looked up from her book, yawning ever so faintly, and asked: + +"Are you enjoying your honeymoon, Roxbury?" + +"Immensely!" he exclaimed, but not until he had searched for and caught +Connie's truant gaze. "Aren't we?" he asked of Miss Fowler, his eyes +dancing. She smiled encouragingly. + +"I think you are such a nice man to have about," commented Mrs. +Medcroft, this time yawning freely and stretching her fine young arms in +the luxury of home contentment. + +Brock went to bed early, in Vienna that night--tired but happy, caring +not what the morrow brought forth so long as it continued to provide him +with a sister-in-law and a wife who was devoted--to another man. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE DISTANT COUSINS + + +The end of the week found Brock quite thoroughly domesticated--to use an +expression supplied by his new sister-in-law. True, he had gone through +some trying ordeals and had lost not a little of his sense of locality, +but he was rapidly recovering it as the pathway became easier and less +obscure. At first he was irritatingly remiss in answering to the name of +Medcroft; but, to justify the stupidity, it is only necessary to say +that he had fallen into a condition which scarcely permitted him to know +his own name, much less that of another. He was under the spell! +Wherefore it did not matter at all what name he went by: he would have +answered as readily to one as the other. + +He blandly ignored telegrams and letters addressed to Roxbury Medcroft, +and once he sat like a lump, with everyone staring at him, when the +chairman of the architects' convention asked if Mr. Medcroft had +anything to say on the subject under discussion. He was forced, in some +confusion, to attribute his heedlessness to a life-long defect in +hearing. Thereafter it was his punishment to have his name and fragments +of conversation hurled about in tones so stentorian that he blushed for +very shame. In the Bristol, in the Kaerntner-Ring, in the Lichtenstein +Gallery, in the Gardens--no matter where he went--if he were to be +accosted by any of the genial architects it was always in a voice that +attracted attention; he could have heard them if they had been a block +away. It became a habit with him to instinctively lift his hand to his +ear when one of them hove in sight, having seen him first. + +"That's what I get for being a liar," he lamented dolefully. Constance +had just whispered her condolences. "Do you think they'll consider it +odd that you don't shout at me too?" + +"You might explain that you can tell what I am saying by looking at my +lips," she said. He was immensely relieved. + +Considerable difficulty had to be overcome at the Bristol in the matter +of rooms. Without going into details, Brock resignedly took the only +room left in the crowded hotel--a six by ten cubby-hole on the top floor +overlooking the air-shaft. He had to go down one flight for his morning +tub, and he never got it because he refused to stand in line and await +his turn. Mrs. Medcroft had the choicest room in the hotel, looking down +upon the beautiful Kaerntner-Ring. Constance proposed, in the goodness of +her heart, to give up to Brock her own room, adjoining that of her +sister, provided Edith would take her in to sleep with her. Edith was +perfectly willing, but interposed the sage conclusion that gossiping +menials might not appreciate a preference so unique. + +Mr. Roxbury Medcroft's sky parlour adjoined the elevator shaft. The head +of his bed was in close proximity to the upper mechanism of the lift, a +thin wall intervening. A French architect, who had a room hard by, met +Brock in the hall, hollow-eyed and haggard, on the morning after their +first night. He shouted lugubrious congratulations in Brock's ear, just +as if Brock's ear had not been harassed a whole night long by shrieking +wheels and rasping cables. + +"Monsieur is very fortunate in being so afflicted," he boomed. "A +thousand times in the night have I wished that I might be deaf also. Ah, +even an affliction such as yours, monsieur, has its benedictions!" + +Matters drifted along smoothly, even merrily, for several days. They +were all young and full of the joy of living. They laughed in secret +over the mishaps and perils; they whiffed and enjoyed the spice that +filled the atmosphere in which they lived. They visited the gardens and +the Hofs, the Chateau at Schoenbrunn, the Imperial stables, the gay +"Venice in Vienna"; they attended the opera and the concerts, ever in a +most circumspect "trinity," as Brock had come to classify their parties. +Like a dutiful husband, he always included his wife in the expeditions. + +"You are not only a most exemplary wife, Mrs. Medcroft," he declared, +"but an unusually agreeable chaperon. I don't know how Constance and I +could get on without you." + +But the day of severest trial was now at hand. The Rodneys were arriving +on the fifth day from Berlin. Despite the fact that the Seattle +"connections" had never seen the illustrious Medcroft, husband to their +distant cousin, there still remained the disturbing fear that they would +recognise--or rather fail to recognise him!--from chance pictures that +might have come to their notice. Besides, there was always the +possibility that they had seen or even met Brock in New York. He +lugubriously admitted that he had met unfortunate thousands whom he had +promptly forgotten but who seldom failed to remember him. It is not +surprising, then, that the Medcrofts, _ex parte_, were in a state of +perturbation,--a condition which did not relax in the least as the time +drew near for the arrival of the five o'clock train from the north. +Constance strove faithfully, even valiantly, to inject confidence into +the souls of the prime conspirators. + +"You have done so beautifully up to this time," she protested to the +dolorous Brock, "why should you be afraid? I once read of an Indian +chief whose name was Young-Man-Afraid-of-his-Wife! He was a very brave +fellow in spite of all that. You are afraid of Edith, but can't you be +like the Indian? He--" + +"That's all very nice," mourned Brock, "but he could cover his confusion +with war paint. Don't forget that, my dear. Think of the difference in +our disguises! War paint in daubs versus spats and an eyeglass. Besides, +he didn't have to talk West End English. And, moreover, he lived in a +wigwam, and didn't have to explain a sky bedroom to strangers who +happened along." + +"That is a bit awkward," she confessed thoughtfully. "But can't you say +that you have insomnia, and can't sleep unless you are above the noise +of the street?" + +He looked at her with an expression that made a verbal reply to this +suggestion altogether unnecessary. + +"Nurse says that Tootles has forgotten the real Roxbury," she went on, +after a moment. "See how cleverly you have played the part." + +Still he stared moodily, unconvinced, at the roadway ahead. They were +driving in the Haupt Allee. + +"I hope I haven't got Roxbury into trouble by that interview I gave out +concerning the new method of fire-proofing woodwork in office buildings +and hotels. It occurred to me afterward that he is violently opposed to +the system. I advocated it. He'll have a--I might say, a devil of a time +explaining his change of front." + +As a matter of fact, when Medcroft, hiding in London, saw the reproduced +interview in the "Times," together with editorial comments upon the +extraordinary attitude of a supposedly conservative Englishman of +recognised ability, he was tried almost beyond endurance. For the next +two or three days the newspapers printed caustic contributions from +fellow architects and builders, in each of which the luckless Medcroft +was taken to task for advocating an impractical and fatuous New York +hobby in the way of construction,--something that staid old London would +not even tolerate or discuss. The social chroniclings of the Medcrofts +in Vienna, as despatched by the correspondents, offset this unhappy +"bull" to some extent, in so far as Medcroft's peace of mind was +concerned, but nothing could have drawn attention to the fact that he +was not in London at that particular time so decisively as the Vienna +interview and its undefended front. Even his shrewdest enemy could not +have suspected Medcroft of a patience which would permit him to sit +quiet in London while the attacks were going on. He found some small +solace in the reflection that he could make the end justify the means. + +On their return to the Bristol, Brock and Miss Fowler found the fair +Edith in a pitiful state of collapse. She declared over and over again +that she could not face the Rodneys; it was more than should be expected +of her; she was sure that something would go wrong; why, oh, why was it +necessary to deceive the Rodneys? Why should they be kept in the dark? +Why wasn't Roxbury there to counsel wisely--and more, _ad infinitum_, +until the distracted pair were on the point of deserting the cause. She +finally dissolved into tears, and would not listen to reason, +expostulation, or persuasion. It was then that Brock cruelly but +effectively declared his intention to abdicate, as he also had a +reputation to preserve. Whereupon, with a fine sense of distinction, she +flared up and accused him of treachery to his best friend, Roxbury +Medcroft, who was reposing the utmost confidence in his friendship and +loyalty. How could she be expected to go on with the play if he, the man +upon whom everything depended, was to turn tail in a critical hour like +this? + +"How can you have the heart to spoil everything?" she cried indignantly. +He looked at her in fresh amazement. "Roxbury would never forgive you. +We have both placed the utmost confidence in you, Mr. Brock, and--" + +"'Sh! Say 'Roxbury, dear'!" interposed the practical Constance. "The +walls may have ears, my dears." + +Then Mrs. Medcroft plaintively implored his forgiveness, and said that +she was miserable and ashamed and very unappreciative. Brock, in deep +humility, begged her pardon for his unnecessary harshness, and promised +not to offend again. + +"The first quarrel," cried Constance delightedly. "How nicely you've +made it up. And you've been married less than a week!" + +"Roxbury and I didn't have our first quarrel until we'd been married a +year," said Edith reflectively. + +"Oh, I say, Edith," exclaimed Brock, with a dark frown, "I'd rather you +wouldn't be forever extolling the good qualities of my predecessor. It's +very bad taste. Very much like the pies mother used to make." + +"Silly!" cried Medcroft's wife, now in fine humour. + +"Besides, Rox is an Englishman. It would take him a year to produce a +quarrel. The American husband is not so confounded slow. I won't live up +to Roxbury in everything." + +It was decided that Constance should greet the Rodneys upon their +arrival; the Medcrofts were not to appear until dinner time. Afterwards +the entire party would attend the opera, which was then in the closing +week. Brock, with splendid prodigality, had taken a box for the final +performance of "Tristan and Isolde." It is not out of place to remark +that Brock loathed the Wagnerian opera; he was of "The Mikado" cult. He +took the seats with a definite purpose in mind to cast the burden of +responsibility upon his wife, who would be forced to extend herself in +the capacity of hostess, giving him the much-needed opportunity to +secure safe footing in the dark area of uncertainty. He believed himself +capable of diverting the youthful Miss Rodney and his discreet +sister-in-law, but he was consumed by an unholy dread of Rodney _pere_; +something told him that this shrewd American business man was not the +kind who would have the wool pulled over his eyes by anyone. Brock felt +that the support of Constance was of greater value than that of Edith at +any stage or in any emergency. + +Besides, he was now quite palpably in love with her! "I've got it bad!" +he reflected in sober consideration of his plight. "But," came the +ironic justification, "I'm able to confine it to the immediate family. +That's more than most husbands can say." + +The Rodneys descended upon the Bristol at five o'clock, rushing down +from the Nord-Bahnhof as if there was not a minute to spare. Constance +pursued Katherine to her room, where they revelled in the delights of a +reunion, gradually coming out of its throes as the hour for dressing +approached. + +"We dine early, dear," said Constance, "with supper after the opera. I +must be off to dress." + +"I am so eager to meet Mr. Medcroft. Is he nice?" + +"He's the dearest thing in the world," cried the other, her cheeks +aglow. + +"I'm so glad, on Edith's account. Most of these English matches turn out +abominably," commented Miss Rodney, who was twenty, very pretty, and +very worldly. "Oh, did I tell you that Freddie Ulstervelt is with us?" + +"No!" + +"We came across him in Berlin, and dad asked him to join us, if he had +nothing better to do, so he said he would. He was with us in Dresden and +Prague and--don't you think he's awfully jolly?" + +"Ripping!" said Constance with deplorable fervour. + +"How awfully English! He said he'd seen you in Paris this spring." + +"Yes," said Miss Fowler, her cheeks going red suddenly. "I told him +you'd asked me to be with you in June." She could have cut out her +tongue for saying this, but it was too late. Katherine laughed a trifle +hardly after a stiff moment; then a queer light flitted into her +eyes,--the light of awakened opposition. Constance was saying to +herself, "She's in love with Freddie. I might have known it." Back in +her brain lay the memory of Freddie's violent protestations of love, +uttered during those recent days in Paris. He had threatened to throw +himself into the Seine; she remembered that quite well--and also the +fact that he did nothing of the sort, but had a very jolly time at +Maxim's and sent her flowers by way of repentance. Knowing Freddie so +well, it would not have surprised her in the least to find that he had +become engaged to Katherine. His heart was a very flexible organ. + +[Illustration: Katherine] + +"Oh," said Katherine, "I believe he did say that you had mentioned us." +Of herself she was asking: "I wonder if she is in love with him!" + +And thus it transpired that Freddie Ulstervelt--addlepated, +good-looking, inconstant Freddie, just out of college--was transformed +into a bone of contention, whether he would or no. + +He was of the kind who love or make love to every new girl they meet, +seriously enough at the time, but easily passed over if need be. Rebuffs +may have puzzled him, but they left no jagged scar. He belonged to that +class which upsets the tranquillity of inexperienced maidens by +whispering intensely, "God, it's grand!" And he means it at the moment. + +Katherine Rodney was in love with him. He belonged to a fashionable New +York family of wealth, and he had been a young lion at Pasadena during +the winter just past. He owned automobiles and a yacht and--an extensive +wardrobe. These notable assets had much to do with the conquest of Mrs. +Rodney: she looked with favour upon the transitory Mr. Ulstervelt, and +believed in her heart that he had something to do with the location of +the shining sun. But of this affair more anon, as the novelists say. + +Brock was presented to the Rodneys just before the party went in to +dinner. He managed his eyeglass and his drawl bravely, and got on +swimmingly with the elder Rodneys, until Constance appeared with +Katherine and Freddie Ulstervelt. It was not until then that it occurred +to Miss Fowler that Freddie, being from New York, was almost certain to +know Brock either personally or by sight. She experienced a cold chill, +the distinct approach of catastrophe. Brock had just been told that +young Ulstervelt of New York was to be of the party. His blood ran cold. +He had never seen the young man, but he knew his father well; he had +even dined at the mansion in Madison Avenue. There was every reason, +however, to suspect that Freddie knew him by sight. Even as he was +planning a mode of defence in case of recognition, the young man was +presented. Brock's drawl was something wonderful. + +"I--aw--knew your family, I'm sure--aw, quite sure," he said. "You know, +of course, that I lived in your--aw--delightful city for some years. +Strange we never met, 'pon my soul." + +"Oh, New York's a pretty big place, Mr. Medcroft," said Freddie +good-naturedly. He was a slight young fellow with a fresh, inquisitive +face. "It's bigger than London in some ways. It's bigger upwards. Say, +do you know, you remind me of a fellow I knew in New York!" + +"Haw, haw!" laughed Brock, without grace or reason. Miss Fowler caught +her breath sharply. + +"Fellow named Brock. Stupid sort of chap, my mother says. I--" + +"Oh, dear me, Mr. Ulstervelt," cried Edith, breaking in, "you shan't say +anything mean about Mr. Brock. He's my husband's best friend." + +"I didn't say it, Mrs. Medcroft. It was my mother." Brock was hiding a +smile behind his hand. "She knows him better than I. To tell the truth, +I've never met him, but I've seen him on the Fifth Avenue stages. You +_do_ look like him, though, by Jove." + +"It's extraordinary how many people think I look like dear old Brock," +said the false Roxbury. "But, on the other hand, most people think that +Brock looks like me, so what's the odds? Haw, haw! Ripping! Eh, Mr. +Rodney?" + +"Ripping? Ripping what? Good God, am I ripping anything?" gasped Mr. +Rodney, who was fussy and fat and generally futile. He seemed to grow +suddenly uncomfortable, as if ripping was a habit with him. + +Dinner was a success. Brock shone with a refulgence that bedimmed all +expectations. His wife was delighted; in all of the four years of +married life, Roxbury had never been so brilliant, so deliciously +English (to use her own expression). Constance tingled with pride. Of +late, she had experienced unusual difficulty in diverting her gaze from +the handsome impostor, and her thoughts were ever of him--in +justification of a platonic interest, of course, no more than that. +To-night her eyes and thoughts were for him alone,--a circumstance +which, could he have felt sure, would have made him wildly happy, +instead of inordinately furious in his complete misunderstanding of her +manner toward Freddie Ulstervelt, who had no compunction about making +love to two girls at the same time. She was never so beautiful, never so +vivacious, never so resourceful. Brock was under the spell; he was +fascinated; he had to look to himself carefully in order to keep his +wits in the prescribed channel. + +His self-esteem received a severe shock at the opera. Mrs. Medcroft, +with malice aforethought, insisted that Ulstervelt should take her +husband's seat. As the box held but six persons, the unfortunate Brock +was compelled to shift more or less for himself. Inwardly raging, he +suavely assured the party--Freddie in particular--that he would find a +seat in the body of the house and would join them during the +_Entr'acte_. Then he went out and sat in the foyer. It was fortunate +that he hated Wagner. Before the end of the act he was joined by Mr. +Rodney, horribly bored and eager for relief. In a near-by _cafe_ they +had a whiskey and soda apiece, and, feeling comfortably reinforced, +returned to the opera house arm-in-arm, long and short, thin and fat, +liberally discoursing upon the intellectuality of Herr Wagner. + +"Say, you're not at all like an Englishman," exclaimed Mr. Rodney +impulsively, even gratefully. + +"Eh, what?" gasped Brock, replacing his eyeglass. "Oh, I say, now, 'pon +my word, haw, haw!" + +"You've got an American sense of humour, Medcroft, that's what you have. +You recognise the joke that Wagner played on the world. Pardon me for +saying it, sir, but I didn't think it was in an Englishman." + +"Haw, haw! Ripping, by Jove! No, no! Not you. I mean the joke. But then, +you see, it's been so long since Wagner played it that even an +Englishman has had time to see the point. Besides, I've lived a bit of +my life in America." + +"That accounts for it," said the tactless but sincere Mr. Rodney. + +Brock glared so venomously at the intrusive Mr. Ulstervelt upon the +occasion of his next visit to his own box, that Mrs. Medcroft smiled +softly to herself as she turned her face away. A few minutes later she +seized the opportunity to whisper in his ear. Her eyes were sparkling, +and something in her manner bespoke the bated breath. + +"You are in love with my sister," was what she said to him. He blushed +convincingly. + +"Nonsense!" he managed to reply, but without much persuasiveness. + +"But you are. I'm not blind. Anyone can see it. _She_ sees it. Haven't +you sense enough to hide it from her? How do you expect to win?" + +"My dear Mrs.--my dear Edith, you amaze me. I'm confusion itself. But," +he went on eagerly, illogically, "do you think I _could_ win her?" + +"That is not for one's wife to say," she said demurely. + +"I'd be tremendously proud of you as a sister-in-law. And I'd be much +obliged if you'd help me. But look at that confounded Ulstervelt! He's +making love to her with the whole house looking on." + +"I think it might be polite if you were to ask him out for a drink," she +suggested. + +"But I've had one and I never take two." + +"Model husband! Then take the girls into the foyer for a stroll and a +chat after the act. Don't mind me. I'm your friend." + +"Do you think I've got a chance with her?" he asked with a brave effort. + +"You've had one wife thrust upon you; why should you expect another +without a struggle? I'm afraid you'll have to work for Constance." + +"But I have your--I can count on your approval?" he whispered eagerly. + +"Don't, Roxbury! People will think you are making love to _me_!" she +protested, wilfully ignoring his question. + +He returned to the box after the second act and proposed a turn in the +foyer. To his disgust, Ulstervelt appropriated Constance and left him +to follow with Mrs. Rodney and Katherine. He almost hated Edith for the +tantalising smile she shot after him as he moved away, defeated. + +If he was glaring luridly at the irrepressible Freddie, he was not alone +in his gloom. Katherine Rodney, green with jealousy, was sending +spiteful glances after her dearest friend, while Mrs. Rodney was +sniffing the air as if it was laden with frost. + +"Don't you think Connie is a perfect dear? I'm so fond of her," said +Miss Rodney, so sweetly that he should have detected the nether-flow. + +He started and pulled himself together. "Aw, yes,--ripping!" He +consciously adjusted his eyeglass for a hasty glance about in search of +the easily disturbed Mr. Rodney. Then, to Mrs. Rodney, his mind a blank +after a passing glimpse of Constance and her escort: "Aw--er--a +perfectly jolly opera, isn't it?" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE WOULD-BE BROTHER-IN-LAW + + +The next morning, bright and early, Mr. Alfred Rodney, a telegram in his +hand, charged down the hall to Mrs. Medcroft's door. With characteristic +Far West impulsiveness he banged on the door. A sleepy voice asked who +was there. + +"It's me--Rodney. Get up. I want to see Medcroft. Say, Roxbury, wake +up!" + +"Roxbury?" came in shrill tones from within. "He--Isn't he upstairs? +Good heaven, Mr. Rodney, what has happened? What _has_ happened?" + +"Upstairs? What the deuce is he doing upstairs?"' + +"He's--he's sleeping! Do tell me what's the matter?" + +"Isn't this Mr. Medcroft's room?" + +"Ye-es--but he isn't in. He objects to the noise. Oh, has anything +happened to Roxbury?" She was standing just inside the door, and her +voice betrayed agitation. + +"My dear Edith, don't get excited. I have a telegram from--" + +She uttered a shriek. + +"He's been assassinated! Oh, Roxbury!" + +"What the dev--Are you crazy? It's a telegram from ----" + +"Oh, heavens! I knew they'd kill him--I knew something dreadful would +happen if I left--" Here she stopped suddenly. He distinctly heard her +catch her breath. After a moment she went on warily: "Is it from a man +named Hobart?" + +"No! It's from Odell-Carney. Hobart? I don't know anybody named Hobart." +(How was he to know that Hobart was the name that Medcroft had chosen +for correspondence purposes?) "We're to meet the Odell-Carneys to-day in +Munich. No time to be lost. We've got to catch the nine o'clock train." + +"Oh!" came in great relief from the other side of the door. Then, in +sudden dismay: "But I can't do it! The idea of getting up at an hour +like this!" + +"What room is Roxbury in?" + +"I--_don't_ KNOW!!" in very decided tones. "Inquire at the +office!" + +Alfred Rodney was a persevering man. It is barely possible that he +occupied a lower social plane than that attained by his wife, but he was +a man of accomplishment, if not accomplishments. He always did what he +set out to do. Be it said in defence of this assertion, he not only +routed out his entire protesting flock, but had them at the West-Bahnhof +in time to catch the Orient Express--luggage, accessories, and all. Be +it also said that he was the only one in the party, save Constance and +Tootles, who took to the situation amiably. + +"Damn the Odell-Carneys," was what Freddie Ulstervelt said as the train +drew out of the station. Brock looked up approvingly. + +"That's the first sensible thing I've heard him say," he muttered loud +enough to be heard by Miss Fowler. "I say, who are the Odell-Carneys? +First I've heard of 'em." + +"The Odell-Carneys? Oh, dear, have you never heard of them?" she cried +in surprise. He felt properly rebuked. "They are very swell Londoners. +It is said--" + +"Then, good heavens, they'll know I'm not Medcroft," he whispered in +alarm. + +"Not at all, my dear Roxbury. That's just where you're wrong. They don't +know Roxbury the first. I've gone over it all with Edith. She's just +crazy to get into the Odell-Carney set. I regret to say that they have +failed to notice the Medcrofts up to this time. Secretly, Edith has +ambitions. She has gone to the Lord Mayor's dinners and to the Royal +Antiquarians and to Sir John Rodney's and a lot of other functions on +the outer rim, but she's never been able to break through the crust and +taste the real sweets of London society. My dear Roxbury, the +Odell-Carneys entertain the nobility without compunction, and they've +been known to hobnob with royalty. Mrs. Odell-Carney was a Lady +Somebody-or-other before she married the second time. She's terribly +smart, Roxbury." + +"How, in the name of heaven, do they happen to be hobnobbing, as you +call it, with the Rodneys, may I ask?" + +"Well, it seems that Odell-Carney is promoting a new South African +mining venture. I have it from Freddie Ulstervelt that he's trying to +sell something like a million shares to Mr. Rodney, who has loads of +money that came from real mines in the Far West. He'd never be such a +fool as to sink a million in South Africa, you know, but he's just +clever enough to see the advantage of keeping Odell-Carney in tow, as it +were. It means a great deal to Mrs. Rodney, don't you know, Roxbury, to +be able to say that she toured with the Odell-Carneys. Freddie says +that Cousin Alfred is talking in a very diplomatic manner of going on to +London in August to look fully into the master. It is understood that +the Rodneys are to be the guests of the Odell-Carneys while in London. +It won't be the season, of course, so there won't be much of a commotion +in the smart set. It is our dear Edith's desire to slip into the charmed +circle through the rift that the Rodneys make. Do you comprehend?" + +They were seated side by side in the corner of the compartment, his +broad back screening her as much as possible from the persistent glances +of Freddie Ulstervelt, who was nobly striving to confine his attentions +to Katherine. Brock's eyes were devouring her exquisite face with a +greediness that might have caused her some uneasiness if there had not +been something pleasantly agreeable in his way of doing it. + +"Yes--faintly," he replied, after an almost imperceptible conflict +between the senses of sight and hearing. "But how does she intend to +explain me away? I'll be a dreadful skeleton in her closet if it comes +to that. When she is obliged to produce the real Roxbury, what then?" + +"She's thought it all out, Roxbury," said Constance severely but almost +inaudibly. "I'm sure Freddie heard part of what you said. Do be careful. +She's going to reveal the whole plot to Mrs. Odell-Carney just as soon +as Roxbury gives the word--treating it as a very clever and necessary +ruse, don't you see. Mrs. Odell-Carney will be implored to aid in the +deception for a few days, and she'll consent, because she's really quite +a bit of a sport. At the psychological moment the Rodneys will be told. +That places Mrs. Odell-Carney in the position of being an abettor or +accomplice: she's had the distinction of being a sharer in a most +glorious piece of strategy. Don't you see how charmingly it will all +work in the end?" + +"What are you two whispering about?" demanded Freddie Ulstervelt +noisily, patience coming to an end. + +"Wha--what the devil is that to--" began Brock furiously. Constance +brought him up sharp with a warning kick on the ankle. He vowed +afterward that he would carry the mark to his grave. + +"He's telling me what a nice chap you are, Freddie," said she sweetly. +Brock glared out of the window. Freddie sniffed scornfully. + +"I'm getting sick of this job," growled Brock under his breath. "I +didn't calculate on--" + +"Now, Roxbury dear, don't be a bear," she pleaded so gently, her eyes so +full of appeal, that he flushed with sudden shame and contrition. + +"Forgive me," he said, the old light coming back into his eyes so +strongly that she quivered for an instant before lowering her own. "I +hate that confounded puppy," he explained lamely, guarding his voice +with a new care. "If you felt as I do, you would too." + +She laughed in the old way, but she was not soon to forget that moment +when panic was so imminent. + +"I--I don't see how anyone can help liking Freddie," she said, without +actually knowing why. He stared hard at the Danube below. After a long +silence he said,-- + +"It's all tommy-rot about it being blue, isn't it?" + +She was also looking at the dark brown, swollen river that has been +immortalised in song. + +"It's never blue. It's always a yellow-ochre, it seems to me." + +He waited a long time before venturing to express the thought that of +late had been troubling him seriously. + +"I wonder if you truly realise the difficulty Edith will have in +satisfying an incredulous world with her absolutely truthful story. +She'll have to explain, you know. There's bound to be a sceptic or two, +my dear Constance." + +"But there's Roxbury," she protested, her face clouding nevertheless. +"_He_ will set everything right." + +"The world will say he is a gullible fool," said he gently. "And the +world always laughs at, not with, a fool. Alas, my dear sister, it's a +very deep pool we're in." He leaned closer and allowed a quaint, +half-bantering, wholly diffident smile to cross his face. "I--I'm afraid +that you are the only being on earth who can make the story thoroughly +plausible." + +"I?" she demanded quickly. Their eyes met, and the wonder suddenly left +hers. She blushed furiously. "Nonsense!" she said, and abruptly left him +to take a seat beside Katherine Rodney. He found small comfort in the +whisperings and titterings that came, willy-nilly, to his burning ears +from the corner of the compartment. He had a disquieting impression that +they were discussing him; it was forced in upon him that being a +brother-in-law is not an enviable occupation. + +"Wot?" he asked, almost fiercely, after the insistent Freddie had thrice +repeated a question. + +"I say, will you have a cigaret?" half shouted Freddie, exasperated. + +"Oh! No, thanks. The train makes such a beastly racket, don't you know." + +"They told me at the Bristol you were deaf, but--Oh, I say, old man, I'm +sorry. Which ear is it?" + +"The one next to you," replied Brock, recovering from his confusion. "I +hear perfectly well with the other one." + +"Yes," drawled Freddie, with a wink, "so I've observed." After a +reflective silence the young man ventured the interesting conclusion, +"She's a stunning girl, all right." Brock looked polite askance. "By +Jove, I'm glad she isn't _my_ sister-in-law." + +"I suppose I'm expected to ask why," frigidly. + +"Certainly. Because, if she was, I _couldn't_. Do you get the point?" He +crossed his legs and looked insupportably sure of himself. + +They reached Munich late in the afternoon and went at once to the Hotel +Vier Jahretzeiten, where they were to find the Odell-Carneys. + +Mr. Odell-Carney was a middle-aged Englishman of the extremely +uninitiative type. He was tall and narrow and distant, far beyond what +is commonly accepted as _blase_; indeed, he was especially slow of +speech, even for an Englishman, quite as if it were an everlasting +question with him whether it was worth while to speak at all. One had +the feeling when listening to Mr. Odell-Carney that he was being +favoured beyond words; it took him so long to say anything, that, if one +were but moderately bright, he could finish the sentence mentally some +little time in advance of the speaker, and thus be prepared to properly +appreciate that which otherwise might have puzzled him considerably. It +could not be said, however, that Mr. Odell-Carney was ponderous; he was +merely the effectual result of delay. Perhaps it is safe to agree with +those who knew him best; they maintained that Odell-Carney was a pose, +nothing more. + +His wife was quite the opposite in nearly every particular, except +height and angularity. She was bony and red-faced and opinionated. A few +sallow years with a rapid, profligate nobleman had brought her, in +widowhood, to a fine sense of appreciation of the slow-going though +tiresomely unpractical men of the Odell-Carney type. It mattered little +that he made poor investment of the money she had sequestered from his +lordship; he had kept her in the foreground by associating himself with +every big venture that interested the financial smart set. +Notwithstanding the fact that he never was known to have any money, he +was looked upon as a financier of the highest order. Which is saying a +great deal in these unfeeling days of pounds and shillings. + +Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney was dressed as all rangy, long-limbed +Englishwomen are prone to dress,--after a model peculiarly not her own. +She looked ridiculously ungraceful alongside the smart, chic American +women, and yet not one of them but would have given her boots to be able +to array herself as one of these. There was no denying the fact that +Mrs. Odell-Carney was a "regular tip-topper," as Mr. Rodney was only too +eager to say. She had the air of a born leader; that is to say, she +could be gracious when occasion demanded, without being patronising. + +In due course of time the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler were presented to +the distinguished couple. This function was necessarily delayed until +Odell-Carney had time to go into the details of a particularly annoying +episode of the afternoon. He was telling the story to his friend Rodney, +and of course everything was at a standstill until he got through. + +It seems that Mr. Odell-Carney felt the need of a nap at three o'clock. +He gave strict injunctions that there was to be no noise in the halls +while he slept, and then went into his room and stretched out. Anyone +who has stopped at the Hotel Four Seasons will have no difficulty in +recalling the electric hall-bells which serve to attract the +chambermaids to given spots. If one needs the chambermaid, he presses +the button in his room and a little bell in the hall tinkles furiously +until she responds and shuts it off. In that way one is sure that she +has heard and is coming, a most admirable bit of German ingenuity. If +she happens to be taking her lunch at the time, the bell goes on ringing +until she returns; it is a faithful bell. Coming back to Odell-Carney: +the maid on his floor was making up a room in close proximity when a +most annoying thing happened to her. A porter who had reason to dislike +her came along and turned her key from the outside, locking her in the +room. She couldn't get out, and she had been warned against making a +sound that might disturb the English guest. With rare intelligence, she +did not scream or make an outcry, but wisely proceeded to press the +button for a chambermaid. Then she evidently sat down to wait. To make +the story short, she rang her own call-bell for two hours, no other maid +condescending to notice the call, which speaks volumes for the almost +martial system of the hotel. The bell was opposite the narrator's door. +Is it, therefore, surprising that he required a great deal of time to +tell all that he felt? It was not so much of what he did that he spoke +at such great length, but of what he felt. + +"'Pon me soul," he exploded in the end, twisting his mustache with +nervous energy, "it was the demdest nap I ever had. I didn't close my +eyes, c'nfend me if I did." + +While Odell-Carney was studiously adjusting his eyeglass for a final +glare at an unoffending 'bus boy who almost dropped his tray of plates +in consequence, Mr. Rodney fussily intervened and introduced the +Medcrofts. Mrs. Odell-Carney was delightfully gracious; she was sure +that no nicer party could have been "got together." Her husband may have +been excessively slow in most things, but he was quick to recognise and +appreciate feminine beauty of face and figure. He unbent at once in the +presence of the unmistakably handsome Fowler sisters; his expressive +"chawmed" was in direct contrast to his ordinary manner of acknowledging +an introduction. + +"Mr. Medcroft is the famous architect, you know," explained the anxious +Mrs. Rodney. + +"Oh, yes, I know," drawled Mr. Odell-Carney. "You American architects +are doing great things, 'pon my soul," he added luminously. Brock stuck +his eyeglass in tighter and hemmed with raucous precision. Mrs. Medcroft +stiffened perceptibly. + +"Oh, but he's Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, the great English architect," cried +Mrs. Rodney, in some little confusion. Odell-Carney suddenly remembered. +He glared hard at Brock; the Rodneys saw signs of disaster. + +"Oh, by Jove, are _you_ the fellow who put those new windows in the +Chaucer Memorial Hall? 'Pon me soul! Are you the man who did that?" +There was no mistaking his manner; he was distinctly annoyed. + +Brock faced the storm coolly, for his friend Medcroft's sake. "I am +Roxbury Medcroft, if that's what you mean, Mr. Odell-Carney." + +"I know you're Medcroft, but, hang it all, wot I asked was, did you +design those windows? 'Gad, sir, they're the laughing sensation of the +age. Where the devil did you get such ideas--eh, wot?" His wife had +calmly, diplomatically intervened. + +"I hate that man," said Mrs. Medcroft to her supposed husband a few +minutes later. There was a dangerous red in her cheeks, and she was +breathing quickly. Brock gave an embarrassed laugh and mentioned +something audibly about a "stupid ass." + +The entire party left on the following day for Innsbruck, where Mr. +Rodney already had reserved the better part of a whole floor for himself +and guests. Mr. Odell-Carney, before they left Munich, brought himself +to the point of apologising to Brock for his peppery remarks. He was +sorry and all that, and he hoped they'd be friends; but the windows were +atrocious, there was no getting around that. His wife smoothed it over +with Edith by confiding to her the lamentable truth that poor +Odell-Carney hadn't the remotest idea what he was talking about half of +the time. After carefully looking Edith over and finding her valuably +bright and attractive, she cordially expressed the hope that she would +come to see her in London. + +"We must know each other better, my dear Mrs. Medcroft," she had said +amiably. Edith thought of the famous drawing-rooms in Mayfair and +exulted vastly. "And Mr. Medcroft, too. I am so interested in men who +have a craft. They always are worth while, really, don't you know. How +like an American Mr. Medcroft is. I daresay he gets that from having +lived so long with an American wife. And what a darling baby! She's +wonderfully like Mr. Medcroft, don't you think? No one could mistake +that child's father--never! And, my dear," leaning close with a +whimsical air of confidence, "that's more than can be said of certain +children I know of in very good families." + +Edith may have gasped and looked wildly about in quest of help, but her +agitation went unnoticed by the new friend. From that momentous hour +Mrs. Medcroft encouraged an inordinate regard for the circumspect. She +decided that it was best never to be alone with her husband; the future +was now too precious to go unguarded for a single moment that might be +unexplainable when the triumphal hour of revelation came to hand. She +impressed this fact upon her sister, with the result that while Brock +was never alone with his prudent wife, he was seldom far from the side +of the adorable lieutenant. As if precociously providing for an ultimate +alibi, the fickle Tootles began to show unmistakable signs of aversion +for her temporary parent. Mrs. Rodney, being an old-fashioned mother, +could not reconcile herself to this unfilial attitude, and gravely +confided to her husband that she feared Medcroft was mistreating his +child behind their backs. + +"Well, the poodle likes him, anyway," protested Mr. Rodney, who liked +Brock; "and if a dog likes a man he's not altogether a bad lot. If I +were you, I wouldn't spread the report." + +"Spread it!" she sniffed indignantly. "Are they not my own cousins? +Twice removed," she concluded as an after-thought. "Do you imagine that +_I_ would spread it? He may be an unnatural father, but I shall not be +the one to say so. Please bear that in mind, Alfred." + +"Well, let's not argue about it," said Mr. Rodney, departing before she +could disobey the injunction. + +Of course, there was no little confusion at the Hotel Tyrol when it came +to establishing the Medcrofts. For a while it looked as though Brock +would have to share a room with Tootles, relegating Burton to an alcove +and a couch; but Constance, in a strictly family conclave, was seized by +an inspiration which saved the day--or the night, more properly +speaking. + +"I have it, Roxbury," she cried, her eyes dancing. "You can sleep on the +balcony. A great many invalids do, you know." + +"But, good heaven, I'm not an invalid," he remonstrated feebly. + +"Of course, you're not, but can't you _say_ you are? It's quite simple. +You sleep in the open air because it does your lungs so much good. Oh, I +know! It isn't necessary to expand your chest like that. They're +perfectly sound, I daresay. I should think you'd rather enjoy the fresh +air. Besides, there isn't a room to be had in the hotel." + +"But suppose it should rain!" he protested, knowing full well he was +doomed. + +"You poor boy, haven't you an umbrella?" she cried with such a perfectly +entrancing laugh that he would have slept out in a hailstorm to provide +recompense. And so it was settled that he was to sleep in the small +balcony just off the baby's luxurious room, the hotel people agreeing to +place a cot there at night in order to oblige the unfortunate guest with +the affected lung. + +"You are so dear and so agreeable, Roxbury," purred Mrs. Medcroft, very +much relieved. "If ever I hear of a girl looking for a nice husband, +I'll recommend you." + +"It's all very nice," said he with a wry grin, "but I'm hanged if I +ought to be expected to remember all of my accomplishments." They were +sitting in her room, attended by the faithful duenna, Constance. +"First, the eyeglass; then the English language, with which I find I'm +most unfamiliar; then a deafness in one of my ears--I can't remember +which until it's too late; and now I'm to be a tubercular. You've no +idea how hard it is for me to speak English against Odell-Carney. I'm an +out-and-out amateur beside him. And it's horribly annoying to have +Ulstervelt shouting in my ear loud enough for everybody in the +dining-room to hear. It's rich, I tell you, and if I didn't love you so +devotedly, Edith, I'd be on my way at this very instant. There! I feel +better. 'On my way' is the first American line I've had in the farce +since we left Stuttgart. By the way, Edith, I'm afraid I'll have to +punch Odell-Carney's confounded head before long. He's getting to be so +friendly to me as Roxbury Medcroft that I can't endure him as Brock." + +"I--I don't understand," murmured Edith plaintively. Constance looked up +with a new interest in her ever sprightly face. + +"Well, you see, he's working so hard to square himself with Medcroft for +the break he made about the windows, that he's taking his spite out on +all American architects. Confound him, he persists in saying I'm all +right, but God deliver him from those demmed rotters, the American +builders. He says he wouldn't let one of us build a hencoop for him, +much less a dog kennel. Oh, I say, Connie, don't laugh! How would you +like it if--" But both of them were laughing at him so merrily that he +joined them at once. Burton and O'Brien, who had come in, were smiling +discreetly. + +"Come, Roxbury, what do you say to a good long walk?" cried Constance. +"I must talk to you seriously about a great many things, beginning with +egotism." He set forth with alacrity, rejoicing in spite of his +limitations. + +Upon their return from the delightful stroll along the mountain side, +she went at once to her room to dress for dinner. Brock, more deeply in +love than ever before, lighted a cigar and seated himself in the +gallery, dubiously retrospective in his meditations. He was sorely +disturbed by her almost constant allusion to Freddie Ulstervelt and his +"amazingly attractive ways." Was it possible that she could be really in +love with that insignificant little whipper-snapper? He seemed to be +propounding this doleful question to the lofty, sphinx-like +Waldraster-Spitze, looming dark in the path of the south. + +"Hello!" exclaimed a voice close to his ear,--the fresh, confident voice +that he knew so well. "I've been looking for you everywhere." Freddie +drew up a chair and sat down at his "good side." The young man appeared +to have something weighty on his mind. Brock shifted uneasily. "I want +to put it up to you, Mr. Medcroft, as man to man. You are Connie's +brother-in-law and you ought to be able to set me straight." + +"Ah, I see," said Brock vaguely. + +"You do?" queried the other, surprise and doubt in his face. + +"No, I should say I don't, don't you see," substituted Brock. + +"I was wondering how you _could_ have seen. It's a matter I haven't +discussed with anyone. I've come to have a liking for you, Roxbury. +You're my sort; you have a sort of New York feeling about you. I'm sure +you're enough of a sport to give me unprejudiced advice. Hands across +the sea, see? Well, to get right down to the point, old man,--you'll +pardon my plain speech,--I think Constance ought to marry an American." + +Brock sat up very straight. "I think that's--that's a matter for Miss +Fowler to determine," he said coldly. + +"You don't quite get my meaning," persisted Freddie, crossing his legs +comfortably. "I was trying to make it easy for myself." + +"You mean, you think she ought to marry you?" + +"That's it, precisely. How clever you are." + +"But you are said to be engaged to Miss Rodney," ventured Brock, feeling +his way. + +"That's just the point, Mr. Medcroft. We're not really engaged--but +almost. As a matter of fact, we've got to the point where it's really up +to me to speak to her father about it, don't you know. Luckily, I +haven't." + +"Luckily?" + +"Yes. That would have committed me, don't you see. I've been tentatively +engaged more than a dozen times, but never quite up to the girl's +father. Now, I don't mind telling you that I've changed my mind about +Katherine. She's a jolly good sort, but she's not just _my_ sort. I +thought she was, but--well, you know how it is yourself. The heart's a +damned queer organ. Mine has gone back to Constance in the last two +days. You are her brother-in-law, and you're a good fellow, through and +through. I want your help. I've got money to burn, and the family's got +position in the States. I can take care of her as she should be taken +care of. No little old six-room flat for her. But, of course, you +understand, I can't quite carry the thing through with Katherine still +feeling herself attached, as it were. The thing to decide is this: how +best can I let Katherine down easily and take on Connie without putting +myself in a rather hazardous position? I'm a gentleman, you see, and I +can't do anything downright rotten. It wouldn't do. I'm sure, in her +heart, Connie cares for me. I could make her understand me better if I +had half the chance. But a fellow can't get near her nowadays. Don't you +think you are carrying the family link too far? Now, what I want to ask +of you, as a friend, is this: will you put in a good word for me every +chance you get? I'll square myself with Katherine all right. Of course, +you'll understand, I don't want to actually break with Katherine until +I'm reasonably sure of Constance. I'm a guest of the Rodney family, you +see. It would be downright indecent of me. No, sir! I'm not that sort. I +shouldn't think of ending it all with Katherine so long as we are both +guests of her father. I'd wait until the end of next week." + +Brock had listened in utter amazement to the opening portion of this +ingenuous proposal. As the flexile youth progressed, amazement gave +place to indignation and then to disgust. Brock's brow grew dark; the +impulse to pull his countryman's nose was hard to overcome. Never in all +his life had he listened to such a frankly cold-blooded argument as that +put forth by the insufferable Knicker-bocker. In the end the big New +Yorker saw only the laughable side of the little New Yorker's plight. +After all, he was a harmless egoist, from whom no girl could expect much +in the way of recompense. It mattered little who the girl of the moment +might be, she could not hope to or even seek to hold his perambulatory +affections. "He's a single example of a great New York class," reflected +Brock. "The futile, priggish rich! There are thousands like him in my +dear New York--conscienceless, invertebrate, sybaritic sons of +idleness, college-bred and under-bred little beasts who can buy and then +cast off at their pleasure. They have no means of knowing how to fall in +love with a good girl. They have not been trained to it. It is not for +their scrambled intellects to discriminate between the chorus-girl brand +of attack and the subtle wooing of a gentlewoman. They can't +analyse--they can't feel! And this insipid, egotistical little bounder +is actually sitting there and asking me to help him with the girl I +love! Good Lord, what next?" He surveyed the eager Ulstervelt in the +most irritating manner, finally laughing outright in his face. The very +thought of him as Connie's accepted lover! She, the adorable, the +splendid, the unapproachable! It was excruciatingly funny! + +"Oh, I say, old man," cried Freddie, when the disconcerting laugh came, +"don't laugh! It's no damned joke." + +"'Pon my soul, Ulstervelt," apologised Brock, with a magnanimous smile, +"I haven't said it was a joke. You--" + +"Then, what are you laughing at? Something you heard yesterday?" with +fine scorn. Brock stared hard at the flushed, boyish face of the other; +it was weak and yet as hard as brass, hard with the overbearing +confidence of the spoiled child of wealth. + +"See here, Ulstervelt," he said with sudden coldness, "you're asking my +help. That's no way to get it." + +"I beg pardon! I don't mean to be rude," apologised Freddie. "But, I +say, old man, I'll make it worth your while. My father's got stacks of +coin, and he's a power in New York. Odell-Carney's right. American +architects can't design good hencoops. What we want in New York is a +rattling good, up-to-date Englishman or two to show 'em a few things. +They're a lot of muckers over there, take it from me. By Jove, Roxbury, +you don't know how I'd appreciate your friendship in this matter. It +will simplify things immensely. You'll speak a good word for me when the +time comes, now, won't you?" + +"You want me to do you a good turn," said Brock slowly. He found himself +grinning with a malicious joy. "All right, I'll see to it that Miss +Rodney doesn't marry you, my boy. I'll attend to her." + +"Just a minute," interrupted Freddie quickly. "Don't be too hasty about +that. I want to be sure of Constance first." + +"I see. I was just about to add that I'll give Constance a strong hint +that one of the most gallant young sparks in New York is likely to +propose to her before the end of the week. That will--" + +"Heavens!" exclaimed Freddie, in disgust. "You needn't do that. I've +already proposed to her five or six times." + +"And she--she is undecided?" cried Brock, his eyes darkening. + +"No, hang it all, she's _not_ undecided. She's said _no_ every time. +That's why I'm up a tree, so to speak." + +"Oh?" was all that Brock said. Of course she couldn't love a creature of +Freddie's stamp! He gloated! + +"'Gad, you're a lucky dog, Roxbury," went on Freddie enviously. "Money +isn't everything. You're married to one of the prettiest and most +fascinating women in the world. She's a wonder. You can't blame me for +wanting your wife as a sister-in-law. Now, can you? And that kid! You +lucky dog!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE FRIENDS OF THE FAMILY + + +Brock discovered in due time that he was living in a lofty but uncertain +place, among the clouds of exaltation. It was not until the close of the +succeeding day that he began to lower himself grudgingly from the height +to which Freddie's ill-mannered confession had led him. By that time he +satisfactorily had convinced himself that no one but a fool could have +suspected Constance of being in love with Ulstervelt; and yet, on the +other hand, was he any better off for this cheerful argument? There was +nothing to prove that she cared for him, notwithstanding this agreeable +conclusion by contrast. As a matter of fact, he came earthward with a +rush, weighted down by the conviction that she did not care a rap for +him except as a conveniently moral brother-in-law. He was further +distressed by Edith's comfortless, though perhaps well-qualified, +announcement that she believed her sister to be in love; she could not +imagine with whom; she only knew she "acted as if she were." + +"Besides, Roxbury," she said warningly, "it's a most degenerate husband +who falls in love with his wife's sister." + +They were walking in one of the mountain paths, some distance behind the +others. They did not know that Mrs. Odell-Carney had stopped to rest in +the leafy niche above the path. She was lazily fanning herself on the +stone seat that man had provided as an improvement to nature. Being a +sharp-eared person with a London drawing-room instinct, she plainly +could hear what they were saying as they approached. These were the +first words she fully grasped, and they caused her to prick up her ears: + +"I don't give a hang, Edith. I'm tired of being her brother-in-law." + +"You're tired of me, Roxbury, that's what it is," in plaintive tones. + +"You're happy, you love and are loved, so please don't put it that way. +It's not fair. Think of the pitiable position I'm in." + +"My dear Roxbury," quite severely, "if there's nothing else that will +influence you, just stop to consider the che-ild! There's Tootles, dear +Tootles, to think of." + +Of course Mrs. Odell-Carney could not be expected to know that Edith was +blithely jesting. + +"My dear Edith," he said, just as firmly "Tootles has nothing to do with +the case. You know, and Constance knows, and I know, and the whole world +will soon know that I'm not even related to her, poor little beggar. I +don't see why she should come between me and happiness just because she +happens to bear a social resemblance to a man who isn't her father. +Come, now, let's talk over the situation sensibly." + +Just then they passed beyond the hearing of the astonished eavesdropper. +Good heaven, what was this? Not his child? Two minutes later Mrs. +Odell-Carney was back at the spring where they had left her somnolent +husband, who had refused to climb a hill because all of his breath was +required to smoke a cigaret. + +"Carney," she said sternly, her lips rigid, her eyes set hard upon his +face, "how long have the Medcrofts been married?" + +He blinked heavily. "How the devil should I know? 'Pon me word, it's--" + +"Four years, I think Mrs. Rodney told me. How old is that baby?" + +"'Pon me soul, Agatha, I'm as much in the dark as you. I don't know." + +"A little over a year, I'd say. Well, I just heard Medcroft say that she +wasn't his child. Whose is it?" She stood there like an accusing angel. +He started violently, and his jaw dropped; an expression of alarmed +protest leaped into his listless eyes. + +"'Pon me word, Agatha, how the devil should I know? Don't look at me +like that. Give you my word of honour, I don't know the woman. 'Pon me +soul, I don't, my dear." + +He was very much in earnest, thoroughly aroused by what seemed to be a +direct insinuation. + +"Oh, don't be stupid," she cried. "Good heavens, can there be a scandal +in that lovely woman's life?" + +"There's never any scandal in a woman's life unless she's reasonably +lovely," remarked he. + +"Whose child is she, if she isn't Medcroft's?" she pursued with a +perplexed frown. + +"Demme, Agatha, don't ask me," he said irritably, passing his hand over +his brow. "I've told you that twice. Ask them; I daresay they know." + +She looked at him in disgust. "As if I could do such a thing as that! +Dear me, I don't understand it at all. Four years married. Yes, I'm sure +that's it. Carney, you don't suppose--" She hesitated. It was not +necessary to complete the obvious question. + +"Agatha," said he, weighing his remark carefully, "I've said all along +that Medcroft is a fool. Take those windows, for instance. If he--" + +"Oh, rubbish! What have the windows to do with it? You are positively +stupid. And I'd come to like her too. Yes, I'd even asked her to come +and see me." She was really distressed. + +"And why not?" he demanded. "Hang it all, Agatha, it's nothing unusual. +She's a jolly good sort and a sight too good for Medcroft. He's a stupid +ass. I've said so all along. How the devil she ever married him, I can't +see. But, by Jove, Agatha, I can readily see how she might have loved +the father of this child, no matter who he is. Take my advice, my dear, +and don't be harsh in your judgment. Don't say a word about what you've +heard. If they are reconciled to the--er--the situation, why the devil +should we give a hang? And, above all, don't let these Rodneys suspect." +Here he lowered his voice gradually. "They're a pack of rotters and they +couldn't understand. They'd cut her, even if she is a cousin or whatever +it is. I've give a year or two of my life to know positively whether +Rodney intends taking those shares or not." He said it in contemplative +delight in what he would do if it were definitely settled. "I can't +stand them much longer." + +"What great variety of Americans there are," she reflected. "Mrs. +Medcroft and her sister are Americans. Compare them with the Rodneys and +Mr. Ulstervelt. No, Carney, I'll not start a scandal. The Rodneys would +not understand, as you say. They'd tear her to shreds and gloat over +the mutilation. No; we'll have her to see us in London. I like her." + +"And, by Jove, Agatha, I like her sister." + +"My dear, the baby is a darling." + +"But what an ass Medcroft is!" + +And thus is it proved that Mrs. Odell-Carney was not only a dutiful wife +in taking her husband into her confidence, but also that jointly they +enjoyed a peculiarly rational outlook upon the world as they had come to +know it and to feel for the people thereof. It is of small consequence +that they could not find it in their power to be in tune with the +virtuous Rodneys: the Rodneys were conditions, not effects. + +However that may be, it was Katherine Rodney, pretty, plump, and +spoiled, who pulled the first stone from the foundation of Medcroft's +house of cards. Katherine had convinced herself that she was deeply +enamoured of the volatile Freddie; the more she thought that she loved +him, the greater became the conviction that he did not care as much for +her as he professed. She began to detect a decided falling off in his +ardour; it was no use trying to hide the fact from herself that +Constance was the most disturbing symptom in evidence. Jealousy +succeeded speculation. Katherine decided to be hateful; she could not +have helped it if she had tried. + +It was very evident, to her at least, that Freddie was not to blame; he +was being led on by the artful Miss Fowler. There could be no doubt of +it--none in the least, declared Miss Rodney in the privacy of her own +miserable reflections. + +Just as she was on the point of carrying her woes to her mother, an +astounding revelation came to her out of a clear sky; an entirely new +condition came into the problem. It dawned upon her suddenly, without +warning, that Roxbury Medcroft was in love with his sister-in-law! + +[Illustration: "She began to detect a decided falling off in his +ardour."] + +When she burst in upon her mother, half an hour later, that excellent +lady started up from her couch, alarmed by the excitement in her +daughter's face. Mrs. Rodney, good soul, was one of the kind who always +think the world is coming to an end, or the house is on fire, or the +king has been assassinated, if any one approaches with a look of +distress in his face. + +"My dear, my dear!" she cried, as Katherine stopped tragically in the +doorway. "What has happened to your father? Speak!" + +"Mamma, it's worse than that! I--" + +"Merciful heaven!" The good lady blindly reached for her smelling salts. + +"I've made a dreadful discovery," went on Katherine in suppressed tones. +"It came to me like a flash. I couldn't believe my own brain. So I +watched them from my window. There's no doubt about it, mamma. It's as +plain as the nose on your face. He--" + +"My darling, what are you talking about? Is my nose--what is the matter +with my nose?" She vaguely felt of her nose in horror. + +"He's in love with her. There's no mistake. And, will you believe me, +mamma, she is _encouraging_ him! Positively! Why--why, it's utterly +contemptible! Oh, dear, what are we to do?" + +Mrs. Rodney looked blankly at her daughter, who had thrown herself in a +chair. She gasped and then gave vent to a tremulous squeak. + +"In love! Your father? With whom--who is she?" + +"Father? Oh, Lord, mother, I didn't say anything about father. Don't +cry! It's another man altogether." + +"Not Freddie Ulstervelt?" quavered Mrs. Rodney, pulling herself +together. "After all he has said to you--" + +"No, no, mamma," cried her daughter irritably. "Freddie may be in love +with her, but he's not the only one. Mamma!" She straightened up and +looked at her mother with wide, horror-struck eyes, "Roxbury Medcroft is +madly in love with Constance Fowler!" + +Mrs. Rodney did not utter a sound for fully a minute and a half. She +never took her eyes from her daughter's distressed face. The colour was +coming back into her own, and her lips were setting themselves into thin +red lines above her rigid chin. + +"I'm sorry, Katherine, that you have seen it too. I have suspected it +for several days. But I have not dared to speak--it seemed too +improbable. What are we to do?" She sat down suddenly, even weakly. + +"She's not only leading Freddie on, but she's flirting with her own +brother-in-law--her own sister's husband--her--her--" + +"Her own niece's father! It's atrocious!" + +"She's a horrid beast! And I _thought_ I loved her. Oh, mamma, it's just +dreadful!" + +"Katherine, control yourself. I will not have you upsetting yourself +like this. You'll have another of those awful headaches. Leave it all to +me, dear. Something _must_ be done. We can't stand by and see dear Edith +betrayed. She's so happy and so trusting. And, besides all that, we'd be +dragged into the scandal. I--" + +"And the Odell-Carneys too. Heavens!" + +"It _must_ be stopped! I shall go at once to Mrs. Odell-Carney and tell +her what we have discovered. It will prepare her. She is the best friend +I have, and I know she will suggest a way to put a stop to this thing +before it is too late. We must--" + +"Why don't you speak to father about it first?" + +"Your father! My dear, what would be the use? He wouldn't believe it. He +never does. I wonder if dear Mrs. Odell-Carney is in her room." The +estimable lady fluttered loosely toward the door. Her daughter called to +her. + +"If I were you, I'd wait a day or two, mamma." She was quite cool and +very calculating now. "It may adjust itself, and--and if we can just +drop a hint that we suspect, they won't be so--so--well, so public about +it. I _know_--I just _know_ that Freddie will be disgusted with her if +he sees how she's carrying on." Katherine suddenly had realised that +good might spring from evil, after all. + +In the mean time, young Mr. Ulstervelt was having troubles and +disappointments of his own. Persistent effort to make love to Miss +Fowler had finally resulted in an almost peremptory command to desist. +An unlucky impulse to hold her hand during one of his attempts to "try +her out" met with disaster. Miss Fowler snatched her hand away and, with +a look he never forgot, abruptly left him. "It's all off with her," +ruminated Freddie, shivering slightly as an after effect of the icy +stare she had given him. "She's got it in for me, for some reason or +other. Wow! That was a frost! I feel it yet. Medcroft has played the +deuce helping me. I wonder if-- Hello! There's Katherine." + +Freddie did some rapid-fire thinking in the next half-minute, with the +result that Constance Fowler was banished forever from his calculations +and Katherine Rodney restored to her own. So long as he could not +possibly win Constance he figured that he might just as well devote +himself to the girl he was virtually engaged to marry. Freddie's was a +convenient and adaptable constancy. Miss Fowler out of sight was also +out of mind; he descended upon Katherine with all of the old ardour +shining in his eyes. It was soon after Miss Rodney's conference with her +mother, and the young lady was off for a walk in the town. + +"Hello, Katherine," called he, coming up from behind. "Shopping? Take me +along to carry the bundles. I want to begin now." + +It was Miss Rodney's fancy to receive his advances with disdain. She +assumed a most unfriendly manner. + +"Indeed?" with chilling irony. "And why, may I ask?" + +Freddie was taken aback. This was most unexpected. + +"Practice makes perfect," he said glibly. "Don't you want me to carry +'em, Kitty?" He said it almost tearfully. + +Katherine exulted inwardly. Outwardly she was very cool and very +baffling. "Please don't call me Kitty. I hate it." + +"It's a dear little name. That's what I'm going to call you when we +are--well, you know." + +"I _don't_ know. What are you talking about?" + +"Oh, come now, Miss Rodney. Don't be so icy. What's up? Never +mind--don't tell me. I know. You're jealous of Connie." It was a bold +stroke and it had an immediate effect. + +"Jealous!" she scoffed, but her cheeks went red. "Not I, Freddie." She +considered for a second and then went on: "She's not in love with you. +You must be blind. She's crazy about Mr. Medcroft." + +"By Jove," exclaimed Freddie, stopping short, his eyes bulging. He +looked at her for a minute in silence, realisation sifting into his +face. "You're right! She _is_ in love with him. I see it now. Well, what +do you think of that! Her brother-in-law!" + +"And he is in love with her too. Now you may go back to her and see if +you can't win her away from him. I shan't interfere, my dear Freddie. +Don't have me on your conscience. Good-by." + +She left him standing there in the street. With well-practised tact he +darted into a tobacconist's shop. + +"Another shake-down," he reflected ruefully. "They're all passing me up +to-day. But, great hooks, what's all this about Medcroft and Constance?" +He bought some cigarets and started off for a walk, mildly excited by +this new turn of affairs. It occurred to him, as he turned it all over +in his mind, that Mrs. Medcroft was amazingly resigned to the situation. +Of course, she was not blind to her husband's infatuation for her +sister. Therefore, if she were so cheerful and indifferent about it, it +followed that she was not especially distressed; in fact, it suddenly +dawned upon him she was not only reconciled but relieved. She had ceased +to love her husband! She could be a freelance in Love's lists, +notwithstanding the inconvenience of a legal attachment. "She's ripping, +too," concluded Freddie, with a certain buoyancy of spirit. "If she +doesn't love Medcroft, she at least ought to love someone else instead. +It's customary. I wonder--" Here he reflected deeply for an instant, his +spirits floating high. Then he turned abruptly and made his way to the +Tirol. + +It came to pass, in the course of the evening, that Mr. Ulstervelt, +supremely confident from the effect of past achievements, drew the +unsuspecting Mrs. Medcroft into a secluded tete-a-tete. It is not of +record that he was ever a diplomatic wooer; one in haste never is. +Suffice it to say, Mrs. Medcroft, her cheeks flaming, her eyes wide with +indignation, suddenly left the side of the indomitable Freddie and +joined the party at the other end of the _entresol_, but not before she +had said to him with unmistakable clearness and decision,-- + +"You little wretch! How dare you say such silly things to me!" + +The rebuff decisive! And he had only meant to be comforting, not to say +self-sacrificing. He'd be hanged if he could understand women nowadays. +Not these women, at least. In high dudgeon he stalked from the room. In +the door he met Brock. + +"For two cents," he declared savagely, as if Brock were to blame, "I'd +take the next train for Paris." + +Brock watched him down the hall. He drew a handful of small coins from +his pocket, ruefully looking them over. "Two cents," he said. "Hang it +all, I've nothing here but pfennigs and hellers and centimes." + +In the course of his wanderings the disconsolate Freddie came upon Mrs. +Odell-Carney and pudgy Mr. Rodney. They were sitting in a quiet corner +of the reading-room. Mr. Rodney had had a hard day. He had climbed a +mountain--or, more accurately speaking, he had climbed half-way up and +then the same half down. He was very tired. Freddie observed from his +lonely station that Mr. Rodney was fast dropping to sleep, +notwithstanding his companion's rapid flow of small talk. It did not +take Freddie long to decide. He was an outcast and a pariah and he was +very lonely. He must have someone to talk to. Without more ado he bore +down upon the couple, and a moment later was tactfully advising the +sleepy Mr. Rodney to take himself off to bed,--advice which that +gentleman gladly accepted. And so it came about that Freddie sat face to +face with the last resort, at the foot of the _chaise-longue_, gazing +with serene adulation into the eyes of a woman who might have had a son +as old as he--if she had had one at all. She had been a coquette in her +salad days; there was no doubt of it. She had encountered fervid +gallants in all parts of the world and in all stations of life. But it +remained for the gallant Freddie Ulstervelt to bowl her over with +surprise for the first time in her long and varied career. At the end of +half an hour she pulled herself together and tapped him on the shoulder +with her fan, a quizzical smile on her lips. + +"My dear Mr. Ulstervelt, are you trying to make love to me? You nice +Americans! How gallant you can be. I am quite old enough to be your +mother. Believe me, I thank you for the compliment. I can't tell you how +I appreciate this delicate flattery. You are very delicious. But," as +she arose graciously, "I'd follow Mr. Rodney's example if I were you. +I'd go to bed." Then, with a rare smile which could not have been more +chilling, she left him standing there. + +"By Jove," he muttered, passing his hand across his eyes, as if +bewildered, "what was I saying to her? Good Lord, has it got to be a +habit with me? Was I making love to--_her_?" He departed for the +American bar. + +Mrs. Rodney had but little sleep that night. She went to bed in a state +of worry and uncertainty, oppressed by the shadows which threatened +eternal darkness to the fair name of the family--however distantly +removed. Katherine's secret had in reality been news to her; she had +not paid enough attention to the Medcrofts to notice anything that they +did, so long as they did not do it in conjunction with the +Odell-Carneys. The Odell-Carneys were her horizon,--morning, noon, and +night. And now there was likelihood of that glorious horizon being +obscured by a sickening scandal in the vulgar foreground. Inspired by +Katherine's dreadful conclusions, the excellent lady set about to +observe for herself. During the entire evening she flitted about the +hotel and grounds with all the snooping instincts of a Sherlock Holmes. +She lurked, if that is not putting it too theatrically. From unexpected +nooks she emerged to view the landscape o'er; by devious paths she led +her doubts to the gates of absolute certainty, and then sat down to +shudder to her heart's content. It was all true! For four hours she had +been trying to get to the spot where she could see with her own eyes, +and at last she had come to it. Of course, she had to admit to herself +that she did not actually hear Mr. Medcroft tell Constance that he loved +her, but it was enough for her that he sat with her in the semi-darkness +for two unbroken hours, speaking in tones so low that they might just as +well have been whispering so far as her taut ears were concerned. + +Moreover, other persons than herself had smilingly nudged each other and +referred to the couple as lovers; no one seemed to doubt it--nor to +resent it, which is proof that the world loves a lover when it +recognises him as one. + +Mrs. Rodney also discovered that Mrs. Medcroft went to her room at nine +o'clock, at least three hours before the subdued tete-a-tete came to an +end. The poor thing doubtless was crying her eyes out, decided Mrs. +Rodney. + +And now, after all this, is it to be considered surprising that the +distressed mother of Katherine did not sleep well that night? Nor should +her wakefulness be laid at the door of the tired Mr. Rodney, who was +ever a firm and stentorian sleeper. + +Morning came, and with it a horseback ride for Brock and Miss Fowler. +That was enough for Mrs. Rodney; she would hold in no longer. Mrs. +Odell-Carney must be told; she, at least, must have the chance to escape +before the storm of scandal broke to muddy her immaculate skirts. +Forthwith the considerate hostess appeared before her guest with a +headful of disclosures. She had decided in advance that it would not do +to beat about the bush, so to speak; she would come directly to the +obnoxious point. + +They were in Mrs. Odell-Carney's sitting-room. Mr. Odell-Carney was +smoking a cigaret on the balcony, just outside the window. Mrs. Rodney +did not know that he was there. It is only natural that he held himself +inhospitably aloof: Mrs. Rodney bored him to death. He did not hear all +that was poured out between them, but he heard quite enough to cause him +something of a pang. He distinctly heard his wife say things to Mrs. +Rodney that she had solemnly avowed she would not say,--things about the +Medcroft baby. + +It goes without saying that Mrs. Odell-Carney refused to be surprised by +the disclosures. She calmly admitted that she had suspected Medcroft of +being too fond of his sister-in-law, but, she went on cheerfully, why +not? His wife didn't care a rap for him--she _said_ rap and nothing +else; Mrs. Medcroft had an affair of her own, dear child; she was not so +slow as Mrs. Rodney thought, oh, no. Mrs. Odell-Carney warmed up +considerably in defending the not-to-be-pitied Edith. She said she had +liked her from the beginning, and more than ever, now that she had +really come to the conclusion that her husband was the kind who sets his +wife an example by being a bit divaricating himself. + +Mrs. Rodney fairly screeched with horror when she heard that Tootles was +"a poor little beggar," and "all that sort of thing, you know." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Odell-Carney, hating herself all the time for +engaging in the spread of gossip, but femininely unable to withstand the +test, "your excellent cousin, Mrs. Medcroft, receives two letters a day +from London,--great, fat letters which take fifteen minutes to read in +spite of the fact that they are written in a perfectly huge hand by a +man--a man, d'ye hear? They're not from her husband. He's here. He +cannot have written them in London, don't you see? He--" + +"I see," inserted Mrs. Rodney, who was afraid that Mrs. Odell-Carney +might think she didn't see. + +"Mind your Mrs. Rodney, I'm terribly cut up about all this. She has--" + +"Oh, I knew you would be," mourned Mrs. Rodney, her heart in her boots. +"You must just hate me for exposing you to--" + +"Rubbish!" scoffed the other. "It isn't that. I've been through a dozen +affairs in which my best friends were frightfully--er--complicated. I +meant to say that I'm terribly cut up over poor Mrs. Medcroft. She's a +dear. Believe me, she's a most delicious sinner. Even Carney says that, +and he's very fastidious--and very loyal." + +"They are married in name only," said Mrs. Rodney, beginning to sniffle. +She looked up and smiled wanly through her tears. "You know what I +mean. My grammar is terrible when I'm nervous." She pulled at her +handkerchief for a wavering moment. "Do you think I'd better speak to +Edith? We may be able to prevent the divorce." + +"Divorce, my dear," gasped Mrs. Odell-Carney incredulously. + +At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney emerged from his shell, so to speak. +He stalked through the window and confronted the two ladies, one of +whom, at least, was vastly dismayed by his sudden appearance. + +"Now, see here," he began without preliminary apology, "I won't hear of +a divorce. That's all rubbish--perfect rot, 'pon my soul. Wot's the use? +Hang it all, Mrs. Rodney, wot's the odds, so long as all parties are +contented? We can stand it, by Jove, if they can, don't you know. We +can't regulate the love affairs of the universe. Besides, I'm not going +to stand by and see a friend dragged into a thing of this sort--" + +"A friend, Carney," exclaimed his wife. + +"Well, it's possible, my dear, that he may be a friend. I know so many +chaps in London who might be doing this sort of thing, don't you know. +Who knows but the chap who's writing her these letters may be one of my +best friends? It doesn't pay to take a chance on it. I won't hear to it. +If Medcroft knows and his wife knows and Miss Fowler knows, why the +deuce should we bother our heads about it? Last night I heard the +Medcroft infant bawling its lungs out--teething, I daresay--but did I go +in and take a hand in straightening out the poor little beggar? Not I. +By the same token, why should I or anybody else presume to step in and +try to straighten out the troubles of its parents? It's useless +interference, either way you take it." + +"I think it's all very entertaining and diverting," said Mrs. +Odell-Carney carelessly. She yawned. + +"Do you really think so?" asked the doubting Mrs. Rodney. "I was so +afraid you'd mind. Your position in society, my dear Mrs.--" + +"My position in society, Mrs. Rodney, can weather the tempest you +predict," said Mrs. Odell-Carney with a smile that went to Mrs. Rodney's +marrow. + +"Oh, if--if you really don't mind--" she mumbled apologetically. + +"Not at all, my dear madam," remarked Odell-Carney, carefully adjusting +his eyeglass. "It's quite immaterial, I assure you." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +OTHER RELATIONS + + +It is but natural to presume, after the foregoing, that the affairs of +the Medcrofts were under close and careful scrutiny from that +confidential hour. The Odell-Carneys were conspicuously nice and +agreeable to the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler. It may be said, indeed, that +Mr. Odell-Carney went considerably out of his way to be agreeable to +Mrs. Medcroft; so much so, in fact, that she made it a point to have +someone else with her whenever she seemed likely to be left alone with +him. The Rodneys struggled bravely and no doubt conscientiously to +emulate the example set by the Odell-Carneys, but it was hardly to be +expected that they could see new things through old-world eyes. They +grew very stiff and ceremonious,--that is, the Rodney ladies did. It was +their prerogative, of course: were they not cousins of the diseased? + +Four or five days of uneasy pretence passed with a swiftness that +irritated certain members of the party and a slowness that distressed +the others. Days never were so short as those which the now recklessly +infatuated Brock was spending. He was valiantly earning his way into the +heart of Constance,--a process that tried his patience exceedingly, for +she was blithely unimpressionable, if one were to judge by the calmness +with which she fended off the inevitable though tardy assault. She kept +him at arm's length; appearances demanded a discreetness, no matter how +she may secretly have felt toward the good-looking husband of her +sister. To say that she was enjoying herself would be putting it much +too tamely; she was revelling in the fun of the thing. It mattered +little to her that people--her own cousins in particular--were looking +upon her with cold and critical eyes; she knew, down in her heart, that +she could throw a bomb among them at any time by the mere utterance of a +single word. It mattered as little that Edith was beginning to chafe +miserably under the strain of waiting and deception; the novelty had +worn off for the wife of Roxbury; she was despairingly in love, and she +was pining for the day to come when she could laugh again with real +instead of simulated joyousness. + +"Connie, dear," she would lament a dozen times a day, "it's growing +unbearable. Oh, how I wish the three weeks were ended. Then I could have +my Roxbury, and you could have my other Roxbury, and everybody wouldn't +be pitying me and cavilling at you because I'm unhappily married." + +"Why do you say I could have your other Roxbury?" demanded her sister on +one occasion. "You forget that father expects me to marry the viscount. +I--" + +"You are so tiresome, Connie. Don't worry me with your love affairs--I +don't want to hear them. There's Mr. Brock waiting for you in the +garden." + +"I know it, my dear. He's been waiting for an hour. I think it is good +for him to wait," said the other, with airy confidence. "What does Roxy +say in his letter this morning?" + +"He says it will all be over in a day or two. Dear me, how I wish it +were over now! I can't endure Cousin Mary's snippishness much longer, +and as for Katherine! My dear, I hate that girl!" + +"She's been very nice lately, Edith--ever since Freddie dropped me so +completely. By the way, Burton was telling me to-day that Odell-Carney +had been asking her some very curious and staggering questions about +Tootles and your most private affairs." + +"I know, my dear," groaned Edith. "He very politely remarked to me last +night that Tootles made him think very strangely of a friend of his in +London. He wouldn't mention the fellow's name. He only smiled and said, +'Nevah mind, my dear, he's a c'nfended handsome dog.' I daresay he meant +that as a compliment for Tootles. She _is_ pretty, don't you think so, +dear?" + +"She's just like you, Edith," said Constance, who understood things +quite clearly. + +"Then, in heaven's name, Connie, why are they staring at her so +impolitely--all of them?" + +"It's because she is so pretty. Goodness, Edith, don't let every little +thing worry you. You'll have wrinkles and grey hairs soon enough." + +"It's all very nice for you to talk," grumbled Edith. "I'm going mad +with loneliness. You have a lover near you all the time--he's mad about +you. What have I? I'm utterly alone. No one loves me--no, not a soul--" + +"You won't let them love you, Edith," said Constance jauntily. "They all +want to love you--all of them." + +"I hate men," announced Mrs. Medcroft, retrospectively. + +Developments of a most refractory character swooped down upon them at +the very end of the sojourn in Innsbruck. Every one had begun to +rejoice in the fact that the fortnight was almost over, and that they +could go their different ways without having anything really regrettable +to carry away with them. The Rodneys were going to Paris, the Medcrofts +to London, the Odell-Carneys (after finding out where the others were +bent) to Ostend. Freddie Ulstervelt suddenly announced his determination +to remain at the Tirol for a week or two longer. That very day he had +been introduced to a Mademoiselle Le Brun, a fascinating young Parisian, +stopping at the Tirol with her mother. + +All might have ended well had it not been for the unfortunate +circumstance of Odell-Carney's making a purchase of the London +_Standard_ instead of the _Times_, as was his custom. His lamentations +over this piece of stupidity were cut short by the discovery of an +astonishing article upon the editorial page of the paper--an article +which created within him a sense of grave perplexity. He read the +headlines thrice and glanced through the text twice, neither time with +any very definite idea of what he was reading. His fingers shook as he +held the sheet nearer the window for a final effort to untangle the +incredible thing that lay before him in simple, unimpeachable black and +white. + +"'Pon me word," he kept repeating to himself feebly. Then he got up and +went off in extreme haste to find his wife. + +"My dear," he said to her in the carriage-way, "I must speak with you +alone." She was just starting off for a drive with Mrs. Rodney. + +"Bad news, Carney?" she demanded, struck by his expression. She was +following him toward a remote corner of the approach. He did not reply +until they were seated, much nearer to each other than was their wont. + +"Read that," he said, slipping the _Standard_ into her hands. "Wot do +you think of it?" + +"My dear Carney, I don't know. Would you mind telling me what I am to +read?" + +"The Medcroft thing. Right there." + +She read the article, her husband watching her face the while. Surprise, +incredulity, dismay, succeeded each other in rapid changes. She was +reading in sheer amazement of the doings of Roxbury Medcroft in +connection with the County Council's sub-committee--_in London_! The +story went on to relate how Medcroft, implacable leader of the +opposition to the "grafters," suddenly had appeared before the committee +with the most astounding figures and facts to support his charges of +rottenness on the part of the "clique"; his unexpected descent upon the +scene had thrown the opposing leaders into a panic; every one had been +led to believe that he was sojourning in the east. As a matter of fact, +it was soon revealed, he had been in London, secretly working on the +problem, for nearly three weeks, keeping discreetly under cover in order +that his influence might not be thwarted. His array of facts, his bitter +arraignment of the men who were trying to force the building bill +through the Council, staggered the whole city of London. At that writing +it looked as though the bill would be overthrown, its promoters had been +so completely put to rout. The committee would be compelled to take +cognisance of the startling exposure--the people would demand a full +threshing out of the obnoxious deal. Roxbury Medcroft's name was on +every one's lips. The _Standard_ had profited by securing a great +"beat." + +The Odell-Carneys looked at each other in wonder and perplexity. "What +does it mean?" asked the lady, her eyes narrowing. + +"Look here, Agatha, this paper's at least two days old. Now, how the +devil can Medcroft be in London and Innsbruck at the same time. He _was_ +here day before yesterday, wasn't he? I'm so c'nfended unobserving--" + +"Yes, yes, he was here. And this paper--" She paused irresolutely. + +"Says he was _there_. 'Pon my word, it's most uncanny. There's some +mystery here." + +"I've got it, Carney! This is not Roxbury Medcroft." + +"Good Gawd!" + +"This explains everything. Heavens, Carney! This fellow is--is her +lover! She's running about the country with him. She's--" + +"Her lover? 'Gad, my dear, he may have been so at one time, but he's the +other one's lover now, take my word for it. I say, 'pon my soul, this is +a charming game your friends the Rodneys have let us into. They--" + +"My friends! Yours, you mean!" she retorted. + +"Oh, come now! But let it go at that. They know, of course, that this +fellow isn't her husband, and yet, by Gad, Agatha, they've gone about +deliberately palming him off on us as the real article. They are +actually sanctioning the whole bloody--" + +"Stop a moment, Carney," interrupted his wife. "The London chap may be +the fraud. Let us go slow, my dear." + +"Slow? How the devil can we go slow in such fast company? No! This +fellow is the fraud. And they knew it too. They all know it. They--" + +"Rubbish! You forget that the whole Rodney tribe is up in arms because +Medcroft is making love to his wife's sister. They're not assuming +anything there, let me tell you. And he's not Edith's lover. If he's not +her husband, he's playing a part that she understands and approves. And +this--this, my dear Carney, may account for the imaginary orphanage of +Tootles. Dear me, it's quite a tangle." + +"I shall telegraph my solicitors at once for definite news. They'll know +whether the real Medcroft is in London, and then--well, by Jove, Agatha, +I can't tell just wot steps I'll take in regard to these Rodneys." + +He went into a long tirade against the unfortunate Seattle-ites, as he +called them. "Understand me, Agatha, I don't blame Mrs. Medcroft. If +she's having an affair with this chap and can pull the wool--" + +"But she isn't having an affair with this chap," cried Mrs. +Odell-Carney, her patience exhausted. "She's having an affair with a +chap in London--the one who writes--Good gracious! Of course! Why, what +fools we are. The real Medcroft is in London, and it is he who is +writing the letters. How stupid of me!" + +"Aha!" exclaimed he triumphantly. "Of course, she's getting letters from +her husband. Why not? That's to be expected. But, by the everlasting +shagpat, do you suppose that her husband knows she's off here with +another fellow who masquerades as her husband? No!" He almost shouted +it. "I've never heard of anything so brazen. 'Gad, what nerve these +Americans have. Just to think of it!" + +"I don't believe she is anything of the sort," declared his wife. "She's +as good as gold. You can't fool me, Carney. I know women." + +"Deuce take it, Agatha, so do I. And wot's more, I know men." + +"They're a poor lot, the kind you know. This pseudo Medcroft is not your +kind. He's a very clever chap and a gentleman." + +"Now, look here, Agatha, don't imagine that I'm going to be such a cad +as to turn against 'em in their hour of trial. Not I. I'm more their +friend than ever. I'll help 'em to get away from here, and I'll bulldose +these Rodneys into holding their peace forever after. It's the Rodney +duplicity that I can't stand." + +"Shall we stay here or shall we find an excuse to leave?" she asked +pointedly. + +"We'll stay long enough for me to tell the Rodneys wot I think of 'em, +I'll have an answer to my despatch by night. Then, I should advise you +to have a talk with Mrs. Medcroft. You've invited her to the house, you +know. Tell her there can't be two Medcrofts. See wot I mean? We'll see +'em through this, but--well, you understand." + +Meantime a telegram had preceded a lengthy letter into the department of +the police, both directed to Herr Bauer, who in reality was James +Githens, of Scotland Yard. The telegram had said: "Why do you say M. is +there? He is in London. Explain. Letter to-morrow." The letter had come, +and Mr. Githens, as well as the local police office, was "bowled over," +to express it in Scotland Yard English. He had wired his employers that +"M. is still in Innsbruck. Cannot be in London." It was very clearly set +forth in the letter that Roxbury Medcroft was in London, and that Mr. +Githens, of Scotland Yard, had betrayed his trust. He was virtually +charged with playing into the hands of the enemy,--"selling out," as it +were. It readily may be expected that Mr. Githens was accused of being +in the employ of the "opposition." Moreover, it is but reasonable to +assume that he took vigorous steps at once to vindicate himself: which +accounts for the woe that lurked close behind the heels of a man named +Brock. + +Brock and Constance had ridden off that afternoon to visit the historic +Schloss Ambras. The great castle had been saved for the very last of +their explorations; he had just been able to secure permission to visit +that part of the Duke's residence open on certain occasions to the +curious public. Edith had declined to accompany them. In the first +place, she was expecting the all-important message from her husband--she +was "on nettles," to quote her plaintive eagerness; in the second place, +she realised that as the crisis was at hand in the affairs of Brock and +Constance, her presence was not a necessary adjunct. Not only was she +expecting a message from Roxbury, but eagerly anticipating an outburst +of joyous news from the two who had, it seemed, very gladly left her +behind. + +The young couple, returning by the lower road from the Schloss, came to +a resting place at a little eating-house and garden on the hillside +overlooking the river Inn. It is a quiet, demure, unfrequented place +among the crags, standing in from the white roadway a hundred feet or +more, clouded by gorgeous trees and sombre cliffs. It was to this +charming, romantic retreat that Brock led his fair, now tremulous +inamorata. She, too, knew that the hour for decision had come; it was in +the air, in the glint of his eyes, in the leaping of her heart. And she +knew what she would say to him, and what they would say to the world a +few hours hence. The mountains seemed to have lost their splendid frown; +they were beaming down upon her, tenderly caressing instead of bleak +and foreboding as they always had been before. + +A rosy-cheeked girl came into the garden to serve them. Swift, cool +breezes were scurrying down the valley, bearing in their wake the soft +rain clouds that were soon to drench the earth and then radiantly pass +on. They were quite alone, seated in the shelter of a wide, overhanging +portico. A soft, green darkness was creeping over the mountainside, +pregnant with smell of the shower. + +Constance ordered tea and a bite of something to eat for both. Brock's +gaze never left her exquisite face while she was engaged in the pretty +but rather self-conscious occupation of instructing the waitress. After +the girl had departed, he leaned forward across the little table and +said, a trifle hoarsely and disjointedly,-- + +"It was most appetising to watch you do that. I could live forever on +nothing but tea and sandwiches if you were to order them." + +"You've said a great many silly things to me this afternoon." + +"I wonder--" he stopped and lowered his voice--"I wonder if you would +call it silly if I were to tell you that I love you, very, very much." +His gloved hand dropped upon hers as she fumbled aimlessly with the menu +card; something in the very helplessness of that long slim hand drew the +strength of all his love toward it--all of this confident, arrogant love +that had come to be so sure of itself in these last days. His grey eyes, +dark with the purpose of his passion, took on a new and impelling glow; +she looked into them for an instant, the wavering smile of last resort +on her parted lips; then her lids dropped quickly and her lip trembled. + +"I should still think you very silly," she said in a very low voice, +"unless--unless you _do_ love me." + +His fingers closed so tightly upon hers that she looked up, her eyes +swimming with tenderness. Neither spoke for a long minute, but words +were not needed to tell what the soul was saying through the eyes. + +"I _do_ love you--you know I do, Connie. I've loved you from the first +day. I cannot live without you, Connie, darling, you won't keep me +waiting? You will be my wife--you will marry me at once? You _do_ love +me, I know--I've known it for days and days--" + +She whimsically broke in upon his passionate declaration, saying with a +pretty petulance: "Oh, you have? What insufferable conceit! I--" + +He laughed joyously. "I never was so sure of anything in my life," he +said. "You couldn't help loving me, Constance; I've loved you so. You +don't have to tell me, dear; I know. Still, I'd like to hear you say, +with those dear lips as well as with your eyes, that you love me." + +She put her hand upon the back of the broad one which held the other +imprisoned; there was a proud, earnest light in her eyes. "I _do_ love +you," she said simply. + +"God, but I'm a happy man," he exulted. Forgetful of the time and the +place, he half arose and, leaning forward, kissed her full upon the +upturned lips. + +There was a rattling of chinaware behind them. In no little confusion +both came tumbling down from Paradise, and found themselves under the +abashed scrutiny of a very red-faced young serving-woman. + +"Oh, never mind," stammered Gretchen quite amiably. "I am used to that, +madame. A great many ladies and gentlemen come here to--to--what you +call it?" She placed the tea and sandwiches before them, her fingers +all thumbs, her cheeks aglow. + +Brock pulled himself together. Very sternly he said: "This young lady is +to be my wife." + +"Ach," said Gretchen, with a friendly smile and the utmost deference, +"that is what they all say, mein Herr." Then, giggling approvingly, she +bustled away. + +Brock waited until she was out of sight. "She seems to be onto us, as +Freddie would say. But what do we care? I'd like to stand on top of the +Bandjoch and shout the news to the world. Wouldn't you, dearest?" + +"The world wouldn't hear us, dear," she said coolly. "Besides, it's +raining up there. Just look at it sweeping down upon us! Goodness!" + +He laughed hilariously, amused by her attempt to be casual and +indifferent. "You can't turn it off so easily as that, dearest," he +cried. "Come! While it rains we may plan. You will marry me--to-morrow?" + +"No!" she cried, aghast. "How utterly ridiculous!" + +"Well, then, day after to-morrow?" + +"No, no--nor week after next. I--" + +"See here, Connie, we've got some one else to consider as well as +ourselves. In order to square it all up for Edith, we must be able to +say to these people that we haven't been frivolling--that we are going +to be married at once. That will let Edith out of the difficulty, and +everything will look rosy at the outset. If we put it off, the world +will have said things in its ignorance that she can never refute, simply +because the world doesn't stop long enough to hear two sides of a story +unless they are given pretty closely together. Now Edith is counting on +us to put the peeping-Tom Rodneys and the charitable Carneys to rout +with our own little bombshell. They're saying nasty things about all +of us. They're calling you a vile thing for stealing your sister's +husband, and they're calling me a dog for what I'm doing. No telling +what they'll be saying if we don't step into the breach as soon as it is +opened. We can't afford to wait, no matter what Roxbury says when he +comes. We've just got to be able to forestall even dear old Roxbury. +Come! Don't you see? We must be married at once." + +[Illustration: "'I _do_ love you,' she said simply."] + +"Dear me," she murmured softly, "what will papa say?" + +"My dear Constance, I will explain it all to your father when he gets +back from South America next winter." + +It was now raining in torrents. They moved back into the darkest recess +of their shelter, and blissfully looked out upon the drenched universe +with eyes that saw nothing but sweet sunshine and fair weather. + +The clattering of horses' hoofs upon the hard mountain road sounded +suddenly above the hiss of the rain-storm. It was quite dark by this +time, night having been hurried on by the lowering skies. A moment +later, three horsemen, drenched to the skin, drew up in front of the +inn, threw their reins over the posts, and dashed for shelter. They came +noisily into the arbour, growling and stamping their soggy feet. + +"What, ho!" called one of the newcomers, sticking his head through a +window of the house. Brock and Miss Fowler looked on, amused by the +plight of the riders. Two of them were unquestionably officers of the +police; the third seemed to be an Englishman. They were gruff, burly +fellows, all of them. For a few minutes they stormed and growled about +their miserable luck in being caught in the downpour, ordering schnapps +and brandy in large and instant quantities. At last the Englishman, a +heavy, sour-faced man, turned his gaze in the direction of the lovers, +who sat quite close together in the dark corner. His gaze developed into +a stare, then a look of triumph. A moment later he was pointing out the +couple to his companions, all three peering at them with excited eyes. + +Brock's face went red under the rude stare; he was on the point of +resenting it when the Englishman stepped forward. The American arose at +once. + +"I've been looking for you, Mr. Medcroft--if that is your name," said +the stranger, halting in front of the table. "My name is Githens, +Scotland Yard. These men have an order for your arrest. I'd advise you +to go with them peaceably. The young woman will not be bothered. She is +free to go." + +"What are you talking about?" demanded Brock angrily. Suddenly he felt a +chill of misgiving. What had Roxbury Medcroft been doing that he should +be subject to arrest? + +"You are masquerading here as Roxbury Medcroft the architect. You are +not Medcroft. I have watched you for weeks. To-day we have learned that +Medcroft is in London. Your linen is marked with a letter B. You've +drawn money on a letter of credit together with a woman who signs +herself as Edith F. Medcroft. There is something wrong with you, Mr. B., +and these officers, acting for the hotel and the State Bank, have been +instructed to detain you pending an investigation." + +Mr. Githens was vindicating himself. He may have been a trifle +disconcerted by Miss Fowler's musical laugh and Brock's plain guffaw, +but he managed to preserve a stiff dignity. "It's no laughing matter. +Officers, this is your man. Take him in charge. Madam, as I understand +it, you are the alleged sister of the woman who is working herself off +as Mrs. Medcroft. It may interest you to know that your sister--if she +is your sister--has locked herself in her room and was in hysterics when +I left the hotel. She will be carefully guarded, however. She cannot +escape. As for you, madam, there is as yet no complaint against you, but +I wish to notify you that you may consider yourself under surveillance +until after your friends have had a hearing before the magistrate +to-morrow. As soon as it has ceased raining we will ask you to ride with +us to the city. As for Mr. B., he is in charge of these officers." + +At eight o'clock that evening a solemn cavalcade rode into Innsbruck. +There were tears of expostulation in the eyes of the lone young woman, +flashes of indignation in those of the tall young man who rode beside +her. + +The tall young man was going to gaol! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE THREE GUARDIANS + + +The anti-climax had struck the Hotel Tirol some hours before it came +upon Brock and Miss Fowler. It seems that Githens had gone first to the +big hostelry in quest of light on the very puzzling dilemma in which he +found himself involved. Inquiries at the office only served to stir up a +grave commotion among the clerks and managers, all of whom vociferously +maintained that the hotel was entirely blameless if any deception had +been practised. The Tirol did not tolerate anything that savoured of the +scandalous; the Tirol was a respectable house; the Tirol was ever +careful, always rigid in the protection of its good name; and so on and +so forth at great length and with great precision. But Mr. Githens had +two officers with him, and he demanded the person of the man calling +himself Roxbury Medcroft. The principal bank in the city was also +represented in the company of investigators. Likewise there was a +laconic gentleman from the British office. + +Mr. Medcroft was out. Then, they agreed, it was necessary to see Mrs. +Medcroft, or the lady representing herself to be such. Mr. Githens was +permitted to go to her rooms in company with the manager of the hotel. +What transpired in those rooms during the next fifteen minutes would be +quite impossible to narrate short of an entire volume. Edith promptly +collapsed. Subsequently she became hysterical. She begged for time, and, +getting it, proceeded to threaten every one with prosecution. + +"I _am_ Mrs. Medcroft!" she declared piteously. "Where is the American +consul? I demand the American consul!" + +"What has the American government to do with it?" gruffly demanded Mr. +Githens. + +"Mr.--Mr.--the gentleman whom you accuse is an American citizen!" she +stammered. + +"Oho! Then he is not an Englishman?" + +"I refuse to answer your questions. You are impertinent. I ask you, sir, +as the manager of this hotel, to eject this man from my rooms." The +manager smiled blandly and did not eject the man. + +"But, madam," he said, "we have a right to know who and what you are. If +Mr. Medcroft is in London, this gentleman surely cannot be he, the real +Mr. Medcroft. We must have an explanation." + +"I'll--I will explain everything to-morrow. Oh, by the way, is there a +telegram for me in the office? There must be. I've been expecting it all +day. I telegraphed to London for it." + +"There is no telegram down there, madam." + +At this juncture Mr. Odell-Carney appeared on the scene, uninvited but +welcome. + +"Wot's all this?" he demanded sternly. Everybody proceeded at once to +tell him. Somehow he got the drift of the story. "Get out--all of you!" +he said. "I stand sponsor for Mrs. Medcroft. She _is_ Mrs. Medcroft, +hang you, sir. If you come around here bothering her again, I'll have +the law upon you. The Medcrofts are English citizens and--" + +"Oh, they are, are they?" sneered Mr. Githens, with a sinister chuckle. + +"Who the devil are you, sir?" + +"I'm from Scotland Yard." + +"I thought so. You've proved it, 'pon my soul. I am Odell-Carney. +Daresay you've heard of me." + +"I know you by sight, sir. But that--" + +"Clever chap, by Jove! And there's no but about it. Mr.--Mr.--never mind +what it is. I don't want to know your name. Mrs. Medcroft, will you +permit me to send my wife up to you? Mr. Manager, I insist that you take +this c'nfended rabble down to the office and tell them to go to the +devil? Don't do it up here; do it down there." + +After some further discussion and protest, the Scotland Yard man and his +party left the room to its distracted mistress. It may be well to +remark, for the sake of local colour, that Tootles was crying lustily, +while Raggles barked in spite of all that O'Brien could do to stop him. + +Odell-Carney sent his wife to Edith. A few minutes later, as he was +making his way to the office, he came upon Mrs. Rodney and Katherine, +hurrying, white-faced, to their rooms. + +"Oh, isn't it dreadful?" wailed the former, putting her clenched hands +to her temples. + +"Isn't wot dreadful?" demanded he brutally. + +"About Edith! They're going to arrest her." + +"Not if I can help it, madam. Where is Mr. Rodney?" + +"He hasn't anything to do with it! We're as innocent as children unborn. +It's all shocking to us. Mr. Rodney shouldn't be arrested. His +rectitude is without a flaw. For heaven's sake, don't implicate him. +He's--" + +"Madam, I am not a policeman," said Odell-Carney with scathing dignity. +"I want your husband to aid me in hushing this c'nfended thing." + +"He shan't do it! I won't permit him to be mixed up in it," almost +screamed Mrs. Rodney. "I've just heard that he isn't a husband at all. +It's atrocious!" + +"Bless me, Mrs. Rodney," roared Odell-Carney, "then you oughtn't to be +living with him if he isn't your husband. You're as bad as-- Hi, look +out, there! Don't do that!" Mrs. Rodney had collapsed into her +daughter's arms, gasping for breath. + +"She's all upset, Mr. Odell-Carney," said Katherine, shaking her mother +soundly. "It's just nerves. If you see papa, send him to us. We must +take the _first_ train for--for anywhere. Will you tell Mrs. +Odell-Carney that if she'll get ready at once, papa will see to the +tickets." + +"Tickets? But, my dear young lady, we're not going anywhere. We're going +to stay here and see your cousin out of her troubles. My wife is with +her now." + +He started away as Mr. Rodney came puffing up the stairs. Odell-Carney +changed his mind and waited. + +"Where's Edith?" panted Mr. Rodney. + +"Good heavens!" groaned his wife, lowering her voice because three +chambermaids were looking on from a near-by turn. "Don't mention that +creature's name. Just think what she's got us into. He isn't her +husband. Alfred, telephone for tickets on to-night's train. To-morrow +will be too late. I won't stay here another minute. Everybody in the +hotel is talking. We'll all be arrested." + +But Mr. Rodney, for once, was the head of the family. He faced her +sternly. + +"Go to your rooms, both of you. We'll stay here until this thing is +ended. I don't give a hang what she's done, I'm not going to desert +her." + +"But--but he isn't her husband," gasped Mrs. Rodney, struck dumb by this +amazing rebellion. + +"But she's your cousin, isn't she, madam?" he retorted with fierce +irony. + +"I disown her!" wailed his wife, _sans raison_. + +"Go to your rooms!" stormed pudgy Mr. Rodney. Then, as they slunk away, +he turned to the approving Odell-Carney, sticking out his chest a trifle +in his new-found authority. "I say, Carney, what's to be done next?" + +The other looked at him for a moment as if in doubt. Then his face +cleared, and he took the little man's arm in his. + +"We'll have a drink first and then see," he said. + +As they were entering the buffet, a cheery voice accosted them from +behind. Freddie Ulstervelt came up, real distress in his face. + +"I say, count me in on this. I'll buy, if I may. I've just heard the +news from the door porter. Bloody shame, isn't it? I had Mademoiselle Le +Brun over to hear the band concert--she is related to that painter +woman, by the way; I told Katherine she was. Say, gentlemen, we'll stand +by Mrs. Medcroft, won't we? Count me in. If it's anything that money can +square, I'm here with a letter of credit six figures long." + +"Join us," said Odell-Carney warmly. "You're a good sort, after all." + +They sat down at a table. Freddie stood between them, a hand on the +shoulder of each. Very seriously he was saying: + +"I say, gentlemen, we can't abandon a woman at a time like this. We must +stand together. All true sports and black sheep _should_ stand together, +don't you know." + +It is possible that Odell-Carney appreciated the subtlety of this +compliment. Not so Mr. Rodney. + +"Sports? Black sheep? Upon my soul, sir, I don't understand you," he +mumbled. Mr. Rodney, although he hailed from Seattle, had never known +anything but a clean and unrumpled conscience. + +Freddie clapped him jovially on the shoulder. "It's all right, Mr. +Rodney. I'll take your word for it. But if we are black sheep we shan't +be blackguards. We'll stand by the ship. What's to be done? Bail 'em +out?" + +It is of record that the three gentlemen were closeted with the officers +and managers for an hour or more, but it is not clear that they +transacted anything that could seriously affect the situation. + +Mrs. Medcroft, despite Mrs. Odell-Carney's friendly offices, refused +point blank to discuss the situation. She did not dare to do or say +anything as yet. Her husband had not telegraphed the word releasing her +from the sorry compact. She loyally decided to stand by the agreement, +no matter what the cost, until she received word from London that he had +triumphed or failed in his brave fight against the "bloodsuckers." + +"I will explain to-morrow, dear Mrs. Odell-Carney," she pleaded. "Don't +press me now. Everything shall be all right. Oh, how I wish Constance +were here! She understands. But she's off listening to silly love talk +and doesn't even care what happens to me. Burton, will you be good +enough to spank Tootles if she doesn't stop that screaming?" + +By nine o'clock that night every one was discussing the significant +disappearance of Constance Fowler and the fraudulent husband of Mrs. +Medcroft. Just as Mr. Odell-Carney was preparing to announce to the +unfortunate wife that the couple had eloped in the most cowardly +fashion, Miss Fowler herself appeared on the scene, dishevelled, +mud-spattered, and hot, but with a look of firm determination in her +face. She strode defiantly through the main hall, ignoring the curious +gaze of the loungers, whisking the skirt of her habit with disdainful +abandon as she passed on to the lift. A few moments later she burst in +upon her sister, a very angry young person indeed. The Odell-Carneys +were down the hall discussing her strange defection; it was with no +little relief that they saw her enter the room. + +"Are we alone?" demanded Miss Fowler, not giving Edith time to proclaim +her joy at seeing her. "Well, I've arranged a way to get him out," she +went on, her lips set. + +"Out?" murmured Mrs. Medcroft. + +"Of course. We can't let him stay in there all night, Edith. How much +money have you? Hurry up, please! Don't stare!" + +"In where? Who's in where?" + +"He's in gaol!" with supreme scorn. "Haven't you heard?" + +Mrs. Medcroft began to cry. "Mr. Brock in gaol? Good heavens, what shall +I do? I--I was depending on him so much. He ought to be here at this +very instant. What has he been doing?" + +"Edith Medcroft, stop sniffling, and don't think of yourself for a +while. It will do you a great deal of good. Where's your money?" + +Ruthlessly she began to rummage Edith's treasure trunk. The other came +to her assistance after a dazed interval. The family purse came to +light. + +"I have a little over four thousand crowns," she murmured helplessly. + +"Give it me, quick. There's no time to waste. I have about five +thousand. It's all in notes, thank heaven. It isn't quite enough, but +I'll try to make it do. Don't stop me, Edith. I haven't time to answer +questions. He's in gaol, didn't you hear me say? And I love him!" + +"But the--the money? Is it to bail him out with?" + +"Bail? No, my dear, it's to _buy_ him out with. 'Sh! Is there any one in +that room? Well, then, I'll tell you something." The heads of the two +sisters were quite close together. "He's in a cell at the--the +prison-hof, or whatever you call it in German. It's gaol in English. I +have arranged to bribe one of the gaolers--his guard. He will let him +escape for ten thousand crowns--we must do it, Edith! Then Mr. Brock +will ride over the Brenner Pass and catch a train somewhere, before his +escape is discovered. I expect to meet him in Paris day after to-morrow. +Have you heard from Roxbury?" + +"No!" wailed Roxbury's wife. + +"He's a brute!" stormed Miss Fowler. + +"Constance!" flared Mrs. Medcroft, aghast at this sign of lese-majesty. + +"Don't tell anybody," called Constance, as she banged the door behind +her. + +Soon after midnight a closely veiled lady drove up to a street corner +adjacent to the city prison, a dolorous-looking building which loomed up +still and menacing just ahead. She alighted and, dismissing the cab, +strode off quickly into the side street. At a distant corner, in front +of a crowded eating-house, two spirited horses, saddled and in charge of +a grumbling stable-boy, champed noisily at their bits. The young woman +exchanged a few rapid sentences with the boy, and then returned in the +direction from which she came. A man stepped out of a doorway as she +neared the corner, accosting her with a stealthy deference that +proclaimed him to be anything but an unwelcome marauder. + +The conversation which passed between the slender, nervous young woman +and this burly individual was carried on in very cautious tones, +accompanied by many quick and furtive glances in all directions, as if +both were in fear of observers. At last, after eager pleading on one +side and stolid expostulation on the other, a small package passed from +the hand of the young woman into the huge paw of the man. The latter +gave her a quick, cautious salute and hurried back toward the gaol. + +The veiled young woman, very nervous and strangely agitated, made her +way back to the spot where the horses were standing. Making her way +through the cluster of small tables which lined the inner side of the +sidewalk, she found one unoccupied at the extreme end, a position which +commanded a view of the street down which she had just come. + +Half an hour passed. Midnight revellers at the surrounding tables began +to take notice of this tall, elegant, nervous young woman with the +veiled face. It was plain to all of them that she was expecting someone; +naturally it would be a man, therefore a lover. Her nervousness grew as +the minutes lengthened into the hour. A clock in a tower near by struck +one. She was now staring with wide, eager eyes down the street, alertly +watching the approach of anyone who came from that direction. Twice she +half arose and started forward with a quick sigh of relief, only to sink +back again dejectedly upon discovering that she had been mistaken in the +identity of a newcomer. + +Half-past one, then two o'clock. The merry-makers were thinning out; she +was quite alone at her end of the place. By this time a close observer +might have noticed that she was trembling violently; there was an air of +abject fear and despair in her manner. + +Why did he not come? What had happened? Had the plot failed? Was he even +now lying wounded unto death as the result of his effort to escape +captivity? A hundred horrid thoughts raced through her throbbing, +overwrought brain. He should have been with her two hours ago--he should +now be far on his way to freedom. Alas, something appalling had +happened, she was sure of it. + +At last there hove in sight, coming from the direction in which lay the +prison, a group of three men. It was a jaunty party, evidently under the +influence of many libations. They came with arms linked, with dignified +but unsteady gait, their hats well back on their heads. In the middle +was a very tall man, flanked on one side by a very short fat one, on the +other by a slender youth who wanted to sing. + +She recognised them and would have drawn back to a less exposed spot, +but the slender youth saw her before she could do so. He shouted to his +companions as if they were two blocks away. + +"There she is! Hooray!" + +They bore down upon her. The next instant they were solemnly shaking +hands with her, much to her dismay. + +"Cons'ance, we've been lookin' f-fer you ever'-where in town. W-where on +earth 've you been?" asked Mr. Rodney thickly, with a laudable attempt +at severity. + +"Ever sinch 'leven o'clock, Conshance," supplemented Freddie, trying to +frown. + +"My dear Miss F-Fowler," began Odell-Carney in, his most suave manner, +"it is after two o'clock. In--in the morning at that. You--you shouldn't +be sittin' here all 'lone thish--this hour in the morning. Please come +home with us. Your mother hash--has ask us to fetch you--I mean your +sister. Beg pardon." + +"I--I cannot go, gentlemen," she stammered. "Please don't insist--please +don't ask why. I cannot go--" + +"I shay, Conshance, by Jove, the joke's on you," exclaimed Freddie. "I +know who 't ish you're waitin' f-for. Well, he can't come. He's locked +in." + +"Freddie, you are drunk!" in deep scorn. + +"I know it," he admitted cheerfully. "We've looked ever'where for you. +We're your frien's. He said it was at 'n eatin'-house. We've been ever' +eatin'-house in Inchbrook. Was here first of all. Leave it to Rodney. +Wassen we, Rodney? You bet we was. You wassen here at 'leven o'clock. +Come on home, Conshance. 'S all right. He's safe. He can't come." + +"But he will come, unless something terrible has happened to him," she +almost sobbed in her desperation. "Cousin Alfred, _won't_ you go to the +gaol and see what has happened?" + +Mr. Rodney took off his hat gallantly and would have gone to do her +bidding had not Mr. Odell-Carney laid a restraining grip upon his +shoulder. + +"Let me explain, Miss F-Fowler. You shee--see, he told us you'd be here, +but, hang it all, you wassen here wh-when we came. Never give up, says I +to my frien's. We'll search till doomshday. I knew we'd find you if we +kep' on searching. Thash jus' wot I said to Roddy, didn' I, Roddy? We +mush have overlokked yo' when we were here at 'leven." + +"I was not here at eleven," she cried breathlessly. + +"Thash jus' what I tol' 'em," insisted Freddie triumphantly. "I saysh: +'What's use lookin' here? She--she isn't on top of any these tables,' +an' I--I knew you wassen unner 'em. You ain't--" + +"Permit me," interrupted Odell-Carney with grave dignity. "Your friend, +Miss Fowler, is not in gaol. He is out--" + +"Not in gaol!" she almost shrieked. "I knew it! I knew it could not go +wrong. But where is he?" + +"He's out on bail. We bailed him out at half-past ten--Wot!" She had +leaped to her feet with a short scream and was clutching his arm +frantically. + +"On bail? At half-past ten? Good heavens, then--then--oh, are you sure?" + +"Poshtive, abs'lutely." + +"Then what has become of my nine thousand crowns?" + +"You c'n search me, Conshance," murmured Freddie. + +"I don' know what you 're talkin' 'bout, Cons'ance," said Mr. Rodney in +a very hurt tone. "We--we put up security f'r five thous'n dollars, +that's what we did. This is all the thanks we getsh for it. Ungrachful!" + +Constance had been thinking very hard, paying no heed to his maudlin +defence. It rapidly was dawning upon her that these men had secured her +lover's release on bail at half-past ten o'clock, an hour and a half +before she had given her bribe of nine thousand crowns to the gaoler. +That being the case, it was becoming clear to her that the wretch +deliberately had taken the money, knowing that Brock was not in the +prison, and with the plain design to rob her of the amount. It was a +transaction in which he could be perfectly secure; bribing of public +officials is a solemn offence in Austria and Germany. She could have no +recourse, could make no complaint. Her money was gone! + +"Where is Mr. Br--Mr. Medcroft?" she demanded, her voice full of +anxiety. If he were out of gaol, why had he failed to come to the +meeting-place? + +"He's locked in," persisted Freddie. + +"That's just it, Miss Fowler," explained Odell-Carney glibly. "You +shee--see, it was this way: we got him out on bail on condition he'd +'pear to-morrow morning 'fore the magistrate. Affer we'd got him out, he +insisted on coming 'round here so's he could run away with you. That +wassen a gennelmanly thing to do, affer we'd put up our money. We +coul'n' afford have him runnin' away with you. So we had him locked in a +room on top floor of the hotel, where he can't get out 'n' leave us to +hold the bag, don't you see. He almos' cried an' said you'd be waitin' +at the church or--or something like that bally song, don't you know, an' +as a lash reshort, to keep him quiet like a good ferrer--feller, we said +we'd come an' get you an' 'splain everything saffis--sasfac--ahem! +sassisfac'rly." + +She looked at then with burning eyes. Slow rage was coming to the +flaming point; And for this she had sat and suffered for hours in a +street restaurant! For this! Her eyes fell upon the limp horses and the +dejected stable-boy. Two hours! + +"You will release him at once!" she stormed. "Do you hear? It is +outrageous!" + +Without another word to the dazed trio, she rushed to the curb and +commanded the boy to assist her into the saddle. He did so, in stupid +amazement. Then she instructed him to mount and follow her to the Tirol +as fast as he could ride. The horses were tearing off in the darkness a +moment later. + +The three guardians stood speechless until the clatter died away in the +distance. Then Mr. Rodney pulled himself together with an effort and +groaned in abject horror. + +"By thunner, the damn girl is stealin' somebody's horshes!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE PRODIGAL HUSBAND + + +The unlucky Brock, wild with rage and chagrin, had paced his temporary +prison in the top storey of the Tirol from eleven o'clock till two, +bitterly cursing the fools who were keeping him in durance more vile +than that from which they had generously released him. He realised that +it would be unwise to create a disturbance in the house by clamouring +for freedom, because, in the first place, there already had been scandal +enough, and in the second place, his distrustful bondsmen had promised +faithfully to seek out the devoted Connie and apprise her of his +release. He had no thought, of course, that in the mean time she might +be duped into paying a bribe to the guard. + +Not only was he direfully cursing the trio, but also the addlepated +Medcroft and his own addlepated self. It is to be feared that he had +harsh thoughts of all the Medcrofts, as far down as Raggles. His dream +of love and happiness had turned into a nightmare; the comedy had become +a tragic snarl of all the effects known to melodrama. Bitterly he +lamented the fact that now he could not go before the assembled critics +in the morning and proclaim to them that Constance was his wife. From +this, it readily may be judged that Brock was not familiar with all the +details of the vigorous Miss Fowler's plan. As a matter of fact, he did +not know that he was expected to fly the country like a fugitive. She +had known in her heart that he would never agree to a plan of that sort; +it was, therefore, necessary for her to deceive him in more ways than +one. Plainly speaking, Brock had laboured under the delusion that she +merely proposed to bribe the gaoler into letting him off for the night, +in order that by some hook or crook they could be married early in the +morning--provided her conception of the State marriage laws as they +applied to aliens was absolutely correct. (It was not correct, it may be +well to state, although that has nothing to do with the case at this +moment.) If he had but known that she contemplated paying ten thousand +crowns for his surreptitious release, making herself criminally liable, +and that he was expected to catch a night train across the border, it is +only just to his manhood to say that he should have balked, even though +the act were to cost him years of prison servitude--which, of course, +was unlikely in the face of the explanation that would be made in proper +time by the real Medcroft. It thus may be seen that Brock not only had +been vilely imprisoned twice in the same night, but that he was very +much in the dark, notwithstanding his attempt to make light of the +situation. + +It occurred to him, at two o'clock, that pacing the floor in the agony +of suspense was a very useless occupation. He would go to bed. Morning +would bring relief and surcease to his troubled mind. Constance was +doubtless sound asleep in her room. Everything would have been explained +to her long before this hour; she would understand. So, with the return +of his old sophistry, he undressed and crawled into the strange bed. +Somehow he did not like it as well as the cot in the balcony below. + +Just as he was dropping off into the long-delayed slumber, he heard a +light tapping at his door. He sat up in bed like a flash, thoroughly +wide awake. The rapping was repeated. He called out in cautious tones, +asking who was there, at the same time slipping from bed to fumble in +the darkness for his clothes. + +"'Sh!" came from the hallway. He rushed over and put his ear to the +door. "It is I. Are you awake? I can't stay here. It's wrong. Listen: +here is a note--under the door. Good night, darling! I'm heartbroken." + +"Thank God, it's you!" he cried softly. "How I love you, Constance!" + +"'Sh! Edith is with me! Oh, I wish it were morning and I could see you. +I have so much to say." + +Another querulous voice broke in: "For heaven's sake, Connie, don't +stand here any longer. Our reputations are bad enough as it is. Good +night--Roxbury!" He distinctly heard the heartless Edith giggle. Then +came the soft, quick swish of garments and the nocturnal visitors were +gone. He picked up the envelope and, waiting until they were safely down +the hall, turned on the light. + +"Dearest," he read, "it was not my fault and I know it was not yours. +But, oh, you don't know how I suffered all through those hours of +waiting at the cafe. They did not find me until after two. They were +drunk. They tried to explain. What do you think the authorities will do +to me if they find that I gave that horrid man bribe money? Really, I'm +terribly nervous. But he won't dare say anything, will he? He is as +guilty as I, for he took it. He took it knowing that you were free at +the time. But we will talk it over to-morrow. I've just got back to the +hotel. I wouldn't go to bed until Edith brought me up to hear your dear +voice. I am so glad you are not dead. It is impossible to release you +to-night. Those wretches have the key. How I loathe them! Edith says the +hotel is wild with gossip about _everything_ and _everybody_. It's just +awful. Be of good heart, my beloved. I will be your faithful slave until +death. With love and adoration and kisses. Your own Constance. + +"P.S. Roxbury has not made a sign, Edith is frantic." + +Several floors below the relieved and ecstatic Brock, Mrs. Medcroft was +soon urging her sister to go to bed and let the story go until daylight. +She persisted in telling all that she had done and all that she had +endured. + +"We must never let him know that we actually gave that wretch nearly +twenty-five hundred dollars, Edith. He would never forgive us. I admit +that I was a fool and a ninny, so don't tell me I am. I can see by the +way you are looking that you're just crazy to. It's all Roxbury's fault, +anyway. Why should he get up and make a speech in London without letting +us know? Just see how it has placed us! I think Mr. Brock is an angel to +do what he has done for you and Roxbury. Yes, my dear, you will have to +confess that Roxbury is a brute--a perfect brute. I'm sure, if you have +a spark of fairness in you, you must hate him. No, no! Don't say +anything, Edith. You _know_ I'm right." + +"I'm not going to say anything," declared Edith angrily. "I'm going to +bed." + +"Edith, if you don't mind, dear, I think I'll sleep with you." After a +moment of deep reflection she added plaintively: "There is so much that +I just have to tell you, deary. It--it won't keep till daylight." + +Bright and early in the morning, the tired, harassed night-farers were +routed from their rooms by a demand from the management of the hotel +that they appear forthwith in the private office. This order included +every member of Mr. Rodney's party, excepting the Medcroft baby. +Considerably distressed and very much concerned over the probable +outcome of the conference, the Rodney forces made their way to the +offices--not altogether in an open fashion, but by humiliatingly unusual +avenues. The Rodney family came down the back stairs. Brock was solemnly +ushered through the public office by Mr. Odell-Carney and Freddie +Ulstervelt. It is not stretching the truth to say that they were sour +and sullen, but, as may be suspected, from peculiarly different causes. +At last all were congregated in the stuffy office, very much subdued and +very much at odds with each other. Mr. Githens was there. Likewise the +gentleman from the bank and a prominent person from the department of +police. + +Miss Fowler glanced about uneasily, and was relieved to discover that +her treacherous gaoler was not there to confront her with charges. It +had occurred to her that he might, after all, have tricked her into +committing a crime against the government. + +It was quite noticeable that Mrs. Rodney and Katherine did not speak to +the Medcroft contingent--in fact, they ignored them quite completely. +Mrs. Rodney was very pale and very deeply distressed. She cast many +glances at the red-eyed and sheepish Mr. Rodney,--glances that meant +much to the further torture of his soul. + +"I am sorry to inform you, Herr Rodney, that the rooms which you now +occupy, and those of your friends, are no longer at your disposal. They +have been engaged for from sometime this day by a--" + +"Look here," interrupted Odell-Carney bluntly, "if you mean that we are +not wanted here any longer, why not say so? Don't lie about it. We are +leaving to-day, in any event, so wot's the odds? Now, come down to +facts: why are we summoned here like a crowd of school children?" + +The manager looked at Mr. Githens and then at the police officer. + +"Ahem! It seems that Herr Grabetz of the police department desires to +ask some questions of your party in my presence. You will understand, +sir, that the hotel has been imposed upon by--by these people. It seems, +also, that the bank insists upon having some light thrown upon the +methods by which Mrs. Medcroft secures money on her letter of credit." + +"You are welcome to all that, sir," declared Mr. Odell-Carney, "but I am +interested to know just why my wife and I are brought into this affair." + +"Because you are guests of Mr. Rodney, sir, I regret to state. We have +no complaint against you, sir. _You_ are well known here. The--the +others are not. They are--what you call it? Humbugs! It may be that they +also have swindled you!" + +Mr. Rodney, at this point, leaped to his feet and rushed over to shake +his fist in the face of the insulting hotel man. But Edith Medcroft +arose suddenly, like a tragedy queen, and spoke, her clear, determined +voice stilling the turbulent spirit of her outraged host. + +"One moment, please," she said. "This all can be satisfactorily +explained. No wrong has been done. It will all be cleared up in time. +We--" + +"In time?" interrupted the manager. "Madam, _this_ is the time. You are +here with a man who is not your husband, yet who purports to be such." + +"It may throw some light on the matter if I announce that the gentleman +in question is _my_ affianced husband." It was Miss Fowler who spoke. +Every one stared at her as she moved over to Brock's side. + +"If you will look in the office, you will find a telegram there for me," +went on Mrs. Medcroft, pale but absolutely confident. The manager called +out through the door. Absolute silence reigned while the reply was +awaited. + +"No telegram for Mrs. Medcroft last night or to-day," announced the +manager sternly, as he glanced through the slim bunch of blue envelopes. +"There are four here for a Mr. Brock, who has not yet arrived in--" + +"Brock!" shouted three voices in one. + +A tall man, forgetting his English and his eyeglass, sprang forward and +grabbed the telegrams from the manager's hand. "Holy mackerel! Give 'em +here!" he shouted. Two eager, beautiful young women were hanging to his +elbows as he ruthlessly broke one of the seals. "The chump! It's from +Rox! They're all from Rox--and they are two or three days old!" + +Just then the unexpected happened. + +The office door opened with a bang, and the real Roxbury Medcroft +stepped into the room. He halted just inside the door and looked about +in momentary bewilderment. + +"This is a private--" began the manager, stepping forward. A flying +figure sped past him; a delighted little shriek rang in his ears. He saw +Edith Medcroft hurl herself into the arms of her own husband. At the +same moment Brock bounded across the room and pounced eagerly upon the +welcome intruder. + +"Good Gawd!" gasped Odell-Carney. "Wot's all this?" His wife suddenly +began fanning herself, searching for breath. + +"_This_ is my husband!" cried Edith, triumph in her voice, tears in her +eyes, as she faced the astonished observers. "Now, what have you to +say?" + +It was a perfectly natural but not an especially obvious question. The +little manager threw up his hands and cried out in a sad mixture of +French, English and Helvetian,-- + +"What? Another husband? Madam, how many more do you propose to inflict +us with? We cannot allow it! The management will not permit you to +change husbands the instant a new guest arrives in the house. It is not +to be heard of--no, no!" + +"Are you afraid that the books won't balance?" asked Brock with a joyous +grin, a great load off his heart. "Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to +introduce Mr. Roxbury Medcroft, my friend and fellow conspirator. He is +the husband of this lady, not I. I am to be the husband of _this_ lady, +thank God." + +There was a moment of absolute silence--it may have been stupor. The two +audiences faced each other with emotions widely at variance. It was Mrs. +Rodney who spoke first. + +"Is this true, Edith?" she quavered. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Edith, her eyes dancing. + +"Then, what are you doing here with a man who isn't your husband?" +demanded Mrs. Rodney, suddenly aflame. + +"I can explain everything to you later on, Mrs. Rodney," interposed Mrs. +Odell-Carney calmly. She had divined at least a portion of the truth, +and she was clever enough to put herself on the right side. Edith cast +an involuntary look of surprise at the Englishwoman. "I have known +everything from the first. Mrs. Medcroft and I are closer friends than +you may have thought." She gave Edith a meaning look, and a moment later +was whispering to her in a private corner of the private office: "My +dear, I don't know what it means, but you must tell me everything as +soon as possible. I am your friend. Whatever it all is, it's ripping!" + +There was a great deal of pow-wowing and chatter, charges and +refutations, excuses and explanations. Mr. Medcroft finally waved every +one aside in the most _degage_ manner imaginable. + +"Don't crowd me! Hang it all, I'm not a curiosity. There isn't anything +to go crazy about. My friend, Mr. Brock, has just done me a trifling +favour. That's all. The whole story will be in the London papers this +morning. Buy 'em. I'm going up to my wife's room to see my baby. I'll +come down and explain everything when I've had a bit of a breathing +spell. It's annoying to have had this fuss about a simple little matter +of generosity on the part of my friend, who, I've no doubt, has been a +most exemplary husband. I'll see to it, by Gad, that he receives the +proper apologies. And, for that matter, my wife may have something to +say about the outrage that has been perpetrated." + +He took it all very much as if the world owed him an explanation and not +_vice versa_. As he was stalking from the room, Brock bethought himself +to ask,-- + +"When did you arrive, old man?" + +"Last night on the 12.10. I registered as Smith. It was so late that I +decided not to disturb Edith. They said in the office that you'd gone to +bed, Brock. Now that I recall it, they said it in a very odd way too. +In fact, one of the clerks asked if I had it in for you too." + +"You were here all night?" murmured Constance in plaintive misery. + +"Well, not precisely all night, Connie. Half of it," replied Roxbury. +"Brock, you ass, I telegraphed you I was coming and asked you to meet me +at the station. I telegraphed twice from London and--" + +"Don't call me an ass," grated Brock. "Why didn't you send 'em to me as +Medcroft? I haven't been Brock until this very morning." + +"'Pon my soul, Brock, it was rather stupid of me," he confessed +sheepishly. "But, you see," with an inspired smile, "one of 'em was to +congratulate you on winning Connie. By Jove, you know, I _couldn't_ very +well address that one to myself." + +"But--but he hadn't won me," stammered Constance Fowler. + +"Edith," said Roxbury, deep reproach in his voice, "you wrote me that a +week ago!" Edith merely squeezed his arm. + +Odell-Carney came forward and extended his hand. "Permit me to introduce +myself, sir. I am George Odell-Carney. It has given me great pleasure to +serve you without knowing you. In my catalogue of personalities you have +posed intermittently as a demmed bounder, a deceived husband, a betrayed +lover, a successful lover, and a lot of other things I can't just now +recall. Acting on the presumption that you might have been a friend in +distress, I worked hard in your interest. Now I discover, to my +gratification, you are a perfect stranger whom I am proud to meet. +Permit me to offer my warmest felicitations and to assure you that Mr. +Brock will make a splendid brother-in-law." He hesitated a moment and +then went on: "So _you_ are the chap that really put in those c'nfended +memorial windows. 'Pon me word, sir, they are the rottenest--" + +"Carney!" came the sharp reminder from his wife. + +"I should have said," revised Mr. Odell-Carney, "you are the chap who +played the deuce with the building grafters in the County Council. +Remarkable!" + +"Yes," said Roxbury, striving to grasp something of the situation as it +appeared to the other. "We beat them. The bill is lost. It will never go +to the Council. The sub-committee will not recommend it. Thanks, Brock, +old man; you have saved London a good many millions, I daresay. It was +you who did it, after all." + +Before noon the hotel was agog with the full details of the remarkable +story. Cabled despatches in the newspapers gave the gist of the clever +trick played by the Medcrofts, and the whole of England was to ring with +the stories of Mrs. Medcroft's pluck and devotion. Everybody was buying +the papers and staring with admiration at Mrs. Medcroft. + +The management of the Tirol implored the Medcrofts to remain--forever! +The bank and the police were profuse in apologies and explanations, and +Mr. Githens departed by the first train. + +Freddie Ulstervelt, killing two birds with one stone, arranged a +splendid dinner for that night in honour of the prodigal husband of +Edith and also in open compliment to the vivacious Mademoiselle Le Brun. + +Later in the day, it occurred to him that he might just as well kill +three birds as two, so he planned to announce the betrothal of Miss +Fowler and Mr. Brock, the wedding to take place a fortnight hence in +Mayfair. The Rodneys were invited to "stop over" for the spread. It is +left for the reader to supply the answer to this simple question,-- + +Did they stop over? + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUSBANDS OF EDITH*** + + +******* This file should be named 16719.txt or 16719.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/1/16719 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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