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diff --git a/283-h/283-h.htm b/283-h/283-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..50689f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/283-h/283-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13406 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Reef, by Edith Wharton + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Reef, by Edith Wharton + +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 Reef + +Author: Edith Wharton + +Release Date: July 12, 2008 [EBook #283] +[Last Updated: August 19, 2017] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REEF *** + + + + +Produced by Gail Jahn, John Hamm, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE REEF + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Edith Wharton + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK I</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> <b>BOOK II</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>BOOK III</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> <b>BOOK IV</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXIX </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> <b>BOOK V</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> XXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> XXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> XXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> XXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0043"> XXXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0044"> XXXIX </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + BOOK I + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + “Unexpected obstacle. Please don’t come till thirtieth. Anna.” + </p> + <p> + All the way from Charing Cross to Dover the train had hammered the words + of the telegram into George Darrow’s ears, ringing every change of irony + on its commonplace syllables: rattling them out like a discharge of + musketry, letting them, one by one, drip slowly and coldly into his brain, + or shaking, tossing, transposing them like the dice in some game of the + gods of malice; and now, as he emerged from his compartment at the pier, + and stood facing the wind-swept platform and the angry sea beyond, they + leapt out at him as if from the crest of the waves, stung and blinded him + with a fresh fury of derision. + </p> + <p> + “Unexpected obstacle. Please don’t come till thirtieth. Anna.” + </p> + <p> + She had put him off at the very last moment, and for the second time: put + him off with all her sweet reasonableness, and for one of her usual “good” + reasons—he was certain that this reason, like the other, (the visit + of her husband’s uncle’s widow) would be “good”! But it was that very + certainty which chilled him. The fact of her dealing so reasonably with + their case shed an ironic light on the idea that there had been any + exceptional warmth in the greeting she had given him after their twelve + years apart. + </p> + <p> + They had found each other again, in London, some three months previously, + at a dinner at the American Embassy, and when she had caught sight of him + her smile had been like a red rose pinned on her widow’s mourning. He + still felt the throb of surprise with which, among the stereotyped faces + of the season’s diners, he had come upon her unexpected face, with the + dark hair banded above grave eyes; eyes in which he had recognized every + little curve and shadow as he would have recognized, after half a + life-time, the details of a room he had played in as a child. And as, in + the plumed starred crowd, she had stood out for him, slender, secluded and + different, so he had felt, the instant their glances met, that he as + sharply detached himself for her. All that and more her smile had said; + had said not merely “I remember,” but “I remember just what you remember”; + almost, indeed, as though her memory had aided his, her glance flung back + on their recaptured moment its morning brightness. Certainly, when their + distracted Ambassadress—with the cry: “Oh, you know Mrs. Leath? + That’s perfect, for General Farnham has failed me”—had waved them + together for the march to the dining-room, Darrow had felt a slight + pressure of the arm on his, a pressure faintly but unmistakably + emphasizing the exclamation: “Isn’t it wonderful?—In London—in + the season—in a mob?” + </p> + <p> + Little enough, on the part of most women; but it was a sign of Mrs. + Leath’s quality that every movement, every syllable, told with her. Even + in the old days, as an intent grave-eyed girl, she had seldom misplaced + her light strokes; and Darrow, on meeting her again, had immediately felt + how much finer and surer an instrument of expression she had become. + </p> + <p> + Their evening together had been a long confirmation of this feeling. She + had talked to him, shyly yet frankly, of what had happened to her during + the years when they had so strangely failed to meet. She had told him of + her marriage to Fraser Leath, and of her subsequent life in France, where + her husband’s mother, left a widow in his youth, had been re-married to + the Marquis de Chantelle, and where, partly in consequence of this second + union, the son had permanently settled himself. She had spoken also, with + an intense eagerness of affection, of her little girl Effie, who was now + nine years old, and, in a strain hardly less tender, of Owen Leath, the + charming clever young stepson whom her husband’s death had left to her + care... + </p> + <p> + A porter, stumbling against Darrow’s bags, roused him to the fact that he + still obstructed the platform, inert and encumbering as his luggage. + </p> + <p> + “Crossing, sir?” + </p> + <p> + Was he crossing? He really didn’t know; but for lack of any more + compelling impulse he followed the porter to the luggage van, singled out + his property, and turned to march behind it down the gang-way. As the + fierce wind shouldered him, building up a crystal wall against his + efforts, he felt anew the derision of his case. + </p> + <p> + “Nasty weather to cross, sir,” the porter threw back at him as they beat + their way down the narrow walk to the pier. Nasty weather, indeed; but + luckily, as it had turned out, there was no earthly reason why Darrow + should cross. + </p> + <p> + While he pushed on in the wake of his luggage his thoughts slipped back + into the old groove. He had once or twice run across the man whom Anna + Summers had preferred to him, and since he had met her again he had been + exercising his imagination on the picture of what her married life must + have been. Her husband had struck him as a characteristic specimen of the + kind of American as to whom one is not quite clear whether he lives in + Europe in order to cultivate an art, or cultivates an art as a pretext for + living in Europe. Mr. Leath’s art was water-colour painting, but he + practised it furtively, almost clandestinely, with the disdain of a man of + the world for anything bordering on the professional, while he devoted + himself more openly, and with religious seriousness, to the collection of + enamelled snuff-boxes. He was blond and well-dressed, with the physical + distinction that comes from having a straight figure, a thin nose, and the + habit of looking slightly disgusted—as who should not, in a world + where authentic snuff-boxes were growing daily harder to find, and the + market was flooded with flagrant forgeries? + </p> + <p> + Darrow had often wondered what possibilities of communion there could have + been between Mr. Leath and his wife. Now he concluded that there had + probably been none. Mrs. Leath’s words gave no hint of her husband’s + having failed to justify her choice; but her very reticence betrayed her. + She spoke of him with a kind of impersonal seriousness, as if he had been + a character in a novel or a figure in history; and what she said sounded + as though it had been learned by heart and slightly dulled by repetition. + This fact immensely increased Darrow’s impression that his meeting with + her had annihilated the intervening years. She, who was always so elusive + and inaccessible, had grown suddenly communicative and kind: had opened + the doors of her past, and tacitly left him to draw his own conclusions. + As a result, he had taken leave of her with the sense that he was a being + singled out and privileged, to whom she had entrusted something precious + to keep. It was her happiness in their meeting that she had given him, had + frankly left him to do with as he willed; and the frankness of the gesture + doubled the beauty of the gift. + </p> + <p> + Their next meeting had prolonged and deepened the impression. They had + found each other again, a few days later, in an old country house full of + books and pictures, in the soft landscape of southern England. The + presence of a large party, with all its aimless and agitated + displacements, had served only to isolate the pair and give them (at least + to the young man’s fancy) a deeper feeling of communion, and their days + there had been like some musical prelude, where the instruments, breathing + low, seem to hold back the waves of sound that press against them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Leath, on this occasion, was no less kind than before; but she + contrived to make him understand that what was so inevitably coming was + not to come too soon. It was not that she showed any hesitation as to the + issue, but rather that she seemed to wish not to miss any stage in the + gradual reflowering of their intimacy. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, for his part, was content to wait if she wished it. He remembered + that once, in America, when she was a girl, and he had gone to stay with + her family in the country, she had been out when he arrived, and her + mother had told him to look for her in the garden. She was not in the + garden, but beyond it he had seen her approaching down a long shady path. + Without hastening her step she had smiled and signed to him to wait; and + charmed by the lights and shadows that played upon her as she moved, and + by the pleasure of watching her slow advance toward him, he had obeyed her + and stood still. And so she seemed now to be walking to him down the + years, the light and shade of old memories and new hopes playing variously + on her, and each step giving him the vision of a different grace. She did + not waver or turn aside; he knew she would come straight to where he + stood; but something in her eyes said “Wait”, and again he obeyed and + waited. + </p> + <p> + On the fourth day an unexpected event threw out his calculations. Summoned + to town by the arrival in England of her husband’s mother, she left + without giving Darrow the chance he had counted on, and he cursed himself + for a dilatory blunderer. Still, his disappointment was tempered by the + certainty of being with her again before she left for France; and they did + in fact see each other in London. There, however, the atmosphere had + changed with the conditions. He could not say that she avoided him, or + even that she was a shade less glad to see him; but she was beset by + family duties and, as he thought, a little too readily resigned to them. + </p> + <p> + The Marquise de Chantelle, as Darrow soon perceived, had the same mild + formidableness as the late Mr. Leath: a sort of insistent self-effacement + before which every one about her gave way. It was perhaps the shadow of + this lady’s presence—pervasive even during her actual brief eclipses—that + subdued and silenced Mrs. Leath. The latter was, moreover, preoccupied + about her stepson, who, soon after receiving his degree at Harvard, had + been rescued from a stormy love-affair, and finally, after some months of + troubled drifting, had yielded to his step-mother’s counsel and gone up to + Oxford for a year of supplementary study. Thither Mrs. Leath went once or + twice to visit him, and her remaining days were packed with family + obligations: getting, as she phrased it, “frocks and governesses” for her + little girl, who had been left in France, and having to devote the + remaining hours to long shopping expeditions with her mother-in-law. + Nevertheless, during her brief escapes from duty, Darrow had had time to + feel her safe in the custody of his devotion, set apart for some + inevitable hour; and the last evening, at the theatre, between the + overshadowing Marquise and the unsuspicious Owen, they had had an almost + decisive exchange of words. + </p> + <p> + Now, in the rattle of the wind about his ears, Darrow continued to hear + the mocking echo of her message: “Unexpected obstacle.” In such an + existence as Mrs. Leath’s, at once so ordered and so exposed, he knew how + small a complication might assume the magnitude of an “obstacle;” yet, + even allowing as impartially as his state of mind permitted for the fact + that, with her mother-in-law always, and her stepson intermittently, under + her roof, her lot involved a hundred small accommodations generally + foreign to the freedom of widowhood—even so, he could not but think + that the very ingenuity bred of such conditions might have helped her to + find a way out of them. No, her “reason”, whatever it was, could, in this + case, be nothing but a pretext; unless he leaned to the less flattering + alternative that any reason seemed good enough for postponing him! + Certainly, if her welcome had meant what he imagined, she could not, for + the second time within a few weeks, have submitted so tamely to the + disarrangement of their plans; a disarrangement which—his official + duties considered—might, for all she knew, result in his not being + able to go to her for months. + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t come till thirtieth.” The thirtieth—and it was now the + fifteenth! She flung back the fortnight on his hands as if he had been an + idler indifferent to dates, instead of an active young diplomatist who, to + respond to her call, had had to hew his way through a very jungle of + engagements! “Please don’t come till thirtieth.” That was all. Not the + shadow of an excuse or a regret; not even the perfunctory “have written” + with which it is usual to soften such blows. She didn’t want him, and had + taken the shortest way to tell him so. Even in his first moment of + exasperation it struck him as characteristic that she should not have + padded her postponement with a fib. Certainly her moral angles were not + draped! + </p> + <p> + “If I asked her to marry me, she’d have refused in the same language. But + thank heaven I haven’t!” he reflected. + </p> + <p> + These considerations, which had been with him every yard of the way from + London, reached a climax of irony as he was drawn into the crowd on the + pier. It did not soften his feelings to remember that, but for her lack of + forethought, he might, at this harsh end of the stormy May day, have been + sitting before his club fire in London instead of shivering in the damp + human herd on the pier. Admitting the sex’s traditional right to change, + she might at least have advised him of hers by telegraphing directly to + his rooms. But in spite of their exchange of letters she had apparently + failed to note his address, and a breathless emissary had rushed from the + Embassy to pitch her telegram into his compartment as the train was moving + from the station. + </p> + <p> + Yes, he had given her chance enough to learn where he lived; and this + minor proof of her indifference became, as he jammed his way through the + crowd, the main point of his grievance against her and of his derision of + himself. Half way down the pier the prod of an umbrella increased his + exasperation by rousing him to the fact that it was raining. Instantly the + narrow ledge became a battle-ground of thrusting, slanting, parrying + domes. The wind rose with the rain, and the harried wretches exposed to + this double assault wreaked on their neighbours the vengeance they could + not take on the elements. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, whose healthy enjoyment of life made him in general a good + traveller, tolerant of agglutinated humanity, felt himself obscurely + outraged by these promiscuous contacts. It was as though all the people + about him had taken his measure and known his plight; as though they were + contemptuously bumping and shoving him like the inconsiderable thing he + had become. “She doesn’t want you, doesn’t want you, doesn’t want you,” + their umbrellas and their elbows seemed to say. + </p> + <p> + He had rashly vowed, when the telegram was flung into his window: “At any + rate I won’t turn back”—as though it might cause the sender a + malicious joy to have him retrace his steps rather than keep on to Paris! + Now he perceived the absurdity of the vow, and thanked his stars that he + need not plunge, to no purpose, into the fury of waves outside the + harbour. + </p> + <p> + With this thought in his mind he turned back to look for his porter; but + the contiguity of dripping umbrellas made signalling impossible and, + perceiving that he had lost sight of the man, he scrambled up again to the + platform. As he reached it, a descending umbrella caught him in the + collar-bone; and the next moment, bent sideways by the wind, it turned + inside out and soared up, kite-wise, at the end of a helpless female arm. + </p> + <p> + Darrow caught the umbrella, lowered its inverted ribs, and looked up at + the face it exposed to him. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute,” he said; “you can’t stay here.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, a surge of the crowd drove the owner of the umbrella abruptly + down on him. Darrow steadied her with extended arms, and regaining her + footing she cried out: “Oh, dear, oh, dear! It’s in ribbons!” + </p> + <p> + Her lifted face, fresh and flushed in the driving rain, woke in him a + memory of having seen it at a distant time and in a vaguely unsympathetic + setting; but it was no moment to follow up such clues, and the face was + obviously one to make its way on its own merits. + </p> + <p> + Its possessor had dropped her bag and bundles to clutch at the tattered + umbrella. “I bought it only yesterday at the Stores; and—yes—it’s + utterly done for!” she lamented. + </p> + <p> + Darrow smiled at the intensity of her distress. It was food for the + moralist that, side by side with such catastrophes as his, human nature + was still agitating itself over its microscopic woes! + </p> + <p> + “Here’s mine if you want it!” he shouted back at her through the shouting + of the gale. + </p> + <p> + The offer caused the young lady to look at him more intently. “Why, it’s + Mr. Darrow!” she exclaimed; and then, all radiant recognition: “Oh, thank + you! We’ll share it, if you will.” + </p> + <p> + She knew him, then; and he knew her; but how and where had they met? He + put aside the problem for subsequent solution, and drawing her into a more + sheltered corner, bade her wait till he could find his porter. + </p> + <p> + When, a few minutes later, he came back with his recovered property, and + the news that the boat would not leave till the tide had turned, she + showed no concern. + </p> + <p> + “Not for two hours? How lucky—then I can find my trunk!” + </p> + <p> + Ordinarily Darrow would have felt little disposed to involve himself in + the adventure of a young female who had lost her trunk; but at the moment + he was glad of any pretext for activity. Even should he decide to take the + next up train from Dover he still had a yawning hour to fill; and the + obvious remedy was to devote it to the loveliness in distress under his + umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve lost a trunk? Let me see if I can find it.” + </p> + <p> + It pleased him that she did not return the conventional “Oh, <i>would</i> you?” + Instead, she corrected him with a laugh—“Not a trunk, but my trunk; + I’ve no other—” and then added briskly: “You’d better first see to + getting your own things on the boat.” + </p> + <p> + This made him answer, as if to give substance to his plans by discussing + them: “I don’t actually know that I’m going over.” + </p> + <p> + “Not going over?” + </p> + <p> + “Well ... perhaps not by this boat.” Again he felt a stealing indecision. “I + may probably have to go back to London. I’m—I’m waiting ... expecting + a letter...(She’ll think me a defaulter,” he reflected.) “But meanwhile + there’s plenty of time to find your trunk.” + </p> + <p> + He picked up his companion’s bundles, and offered her an arm which enabled + her to press her slight person more closely under his umbrella; and as, + thus linked, they beat their way back to the platform, pulled together and + apart like marionettes on the wires of the wind, he continued to wonder + where he could have seen her. He had immediately classed her as a + compatriot; her small nose, her clear tints, a kind of sketchy delicacy in + her face, as though she had been brightly but lightly washed in with + water-colour, all confirmed the evidence of her high sweet voice and of + her quick incessant gestures. She was clearly an American, but with the + loose native quality strained through a closer woof of manners: the + composite product of an enquiring and adaptable race. All this, however, + did not help him to fit a name to her, for just such instances were + perpetually pouring through the London Embassy, and the etched and angular + American was becoming rarer than the fluid type. + </p> + <p> + More puzzling than the fact of his being unable to identify her was the + persistent sense connecting her with something uncomfortable and + distasteful. So pleasant a vision as that gleaming up at him between wet + brown hair and wet brown boa should have evoked only associations as + pleasing; but each effort to fit her image into his past resulted in the + same memories of boredom and a vague discomfort... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + “Don’t you remember me now—at Mrs. Murrett’s?” She threw the + question at Darrow across a table of the quiet coffee-room to which, after + a vainly prolonged quest for her trunk, he had suggested taking her for a + cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + In this musty retreat she had removed her dripping hat, hung it on the + fender to dry, and stretched herself on tiptoe in front of the round + eagle-crowned mirror, above the mantel vases of dyed immortelles, while + she ran her fingers comb-wise through her hair. The gesture had acted on + Darrow’s numb feelings as the glow of the fire acted on his circulation; + and when he had asked: “Aren’t your feet wet, too?” and, after frank + inspection of a stout-shod sole, she had answered cheerfully: “No—luckily + I had on my new boots,” he began to feel that human intercourse would + still be tolerable if it were always as free from formality. + </p> + <p> + The removal of his companion’s hat, besides provoking this reflection, + gave him his first full sight of her face; and this was so favourable that + the name she now pronounced fell on him with a quite disproportionate + shock of dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mrs. Murrett’s—was it <i>there</i>?” + </p> + <p> + He remembered her now, of course: remembered her as one of the shadowy + sidling presences in the background of that awful house in Chelsea, one of + the dumb appendages of the shrieking unescapable Mrs. Murrett, into whose + talons he had fallen in the course of his head-long pursuit of Lady Ulrica + Crispin. Oh, the taste of stale follies! How insipid it was, yet how it + clung! + </p> + <p> + “I used to pass you on the stairs,” she reminded him. + </p> + <p> + Yes: he had seen her slip by—he recalled it now—as he dashed + up to the drawing-room in quest of Lady Ulrica. The thought made him steal + a longer look. How could such a face have been merged in the Murrett mob? + Its fugitive slanting lines, that lent themselves to all manner of tender + tilts and foreshortenings, had the freakish grace of some young head of + the Italian comedy. The hair stood up from her forehead in a boyish + elf-lock, and its colour matched her auburn eyes flecked with black, and + the little brown spot on her cheek, between the ear that was meant to have + a rose behind it and the chin that should have rested on a ruff. When she + smiled, the left corner of her mouth went up a little higher than the + right; and her smile began in her eyes and ran down to her lips in two + lines of light. He had dashed past that to reach Lady Ulrica Crispin! + </p> + <p> + “But of course you wouldn’t remember me,” she was saying. “My name is + Viner—Sophy Viner.” + </p> + <p> + Not remember her? But of course he <i>did</i>! He was genuinely sure of it now. + “You’re Mrs. Murrett’s niece,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “No; not even that. Only her reader.” + </p> + <p> + “Her reader? Do you mean to say she ever reads?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner enjoyed his wonder. “Dear, no! But I wrote notes, and made up + the visiting-book, and walked the dogs, and saw bores for her.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow groaned. “That must have been rather bad!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but nothing like as bad as being her niece.” + </p> + <p> + “That I can well believe. I’m glad to hear,” he added, “that you put it + all in the past tense.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to droop a little at the allusion; then she lifted her chin + with a jerk of defiance. “Yes. All is at an end between us. We’ve just + parted in tears—but not in silence!” + </p> + <p> + “Just parted? Do you mean to say you’ve been there all this time?” + </p> + <p> + “Ever since you used to come there to see Lady Ulrica? Does it seem to you + so awfully long ago?” + </p> + <p> + The unexpectedness of the thrust—as well as its doubtful taste—chilled + his growing enjoyment of her chatter. He had really been getting to like + her—had recovered, under the candid approval of her eye, his usual + sense of being a personable young man, with all the privileges pertaining + to the state, instead of the anonymous rag of humanity he had felt himself + in the crowd on the pier. It annoyed him, at that particular moment, to be + reminded that naturalness is not always consonant with taste. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to guess his thought. “You don’t like my saying that you came + for Lady Ulrica?” she asked, leaning over the table to pour herself a + second cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + He liked her quickness, at any rate. “It’s better,” he laughed, “than your + thinking I came for Mrs. Murrett!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we never thought anybody came for Mrs. Murrett! It was always for + something else: the music, or the cook—when there was a good one—or + the other people; generally <i>one</i> of the other people.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” + </p> + <p> + She was amusing, and that, in his present mood, was more to his purpose + than the exact shade of her taste. It was odd, too, to discover suddenly + that the blurred tapestry of Mrs. Murrett’s background had all the while + been alive and full of eyes. Now, with a pair of them looking into his, he + was conscious of a queer reversal of perspective. + </p> + <p> + “Who were the ‘we’? Were you a cloud of witnesses?” + </p> + <p> + “There were a good many of us.” She smiled. “Let me see—who was + there in your time? Mrs. Bolt—and Mademoiselle—and Professor + Didymus and the Polish Countess. Don’t you remember the Polish Countess? + She crystal-gazed, and played accompaniments, and Mrs. Murrett chucked her + because Mrs. Didymus accused her of hypnotizing the Professor. But of + course you don’t remember. We were all invisible to you; but we could see. + And we all used to wonder about you——” + </p> + <p> + Again Darrow felt a redness in the temples. “What about me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—whether it was you or she who...” + </p> + <p> + He winced, but hid his disapproval. It made the time pass to listen to + her. + </p> + <p> + “And what, if one may ask, was your conclusion?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Bolt and Mademoiselle and the Countess naturally thought it + was <i>she</i>; but Professor Didymus and Jimmy Brance—especially Jimmy——” + </p> + <p> + “Just a moment: who on earth is Jimmy Brance?” + </p> + <p> + She exclaimed in wonder: “You <i>were</i> absorbed—not to remember Jimmy + Brance! He must have been right about you, after all.” She let her amused + scrutiny dwell on him. “But how could you? She was false from head to + foot!” + </p> + <p> + “False——?” In spite of time and satiety, the male instinct of + ownership rose up and repudiated the charge. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner caught his look and laughed. “Oh, I only meant externally! You + see, she often used to come to my room after tennis, or to touch up in the + evenings, when they were going on; and I assure you she took apart like a + puzzle. In fact I used to say to Jimmy—just to make him wild—: ‘I’ll + bet you anything you like there’s nothing wrong, because I know she’d + never dare un—‘” She broke the word in two, and her quick blush made + her face like a shallow-petalled rose shading to the deeper pink of the + centre. + </p> + <p> + The situation was saved, for Darrow, by an abrupt rush of memories, and he + gave way to a mirth which she as frankly echoed. “Of course,” she gasped + through her laughter, “I only said it to tease Jimmy——” + </p> + <p> + Her amusement obscurely annoyed him. “Oh, you’re all alike!” he exclaimed, + moved by an unaccountable sense of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + She caught him up in a flash—she didn’t miss things! “You say that + because you think I’m spiteful and envious? Yes—I was envious of + Lady Ulrica.... Oh, not on account of you or Jimmy Brance! Simply because + she had almost all the things I’ve always wanted: clothes and fun and + motors, and admiration and yachting and Paris—why, Paris alone would + be enough!—And how do you suppose a girl can see that sort of thing + about her day after day, and never wonder why some women, who don’t seem + to have any more right to it, have it all tumbled into their laps, while + others are writing dinner invitations, and straightening out accounts, and + copying visiting lists, and finishing golf-stockings, and matching + ribbons, and seeing that the dogs get their sulphur? One looks in one’s + glass, after all!” + </p> + <p> + She launched the closing words at him on a cry that lifted them above the + petulance of vanity; but his sense of her words was lost in the surprise + of her face. Under the flying clouds of her excitement it was no longer a + shallow flower-cup but a darkening gleaming mirror that might give back + strange depths of feeling. The girl had stuff in her—he saw it; and + she seemed to catch the perception in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the kind of education I got at Mrs. Murrett’s—and I never + had any other,” she said with a shrug. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord—were you there so long?” + </p> + <p> + “Five years. I stuck it out longer than any of the others.” She spoke as + though it were something to be proud of. + </p> + <p> + “Well, thank God you’re out of it now!” + </p> + <p> + Again a just perceptible shadow crossed her face. “Yes—I’m out of it + now fast enough.” + </p> + <p> + “And what—if I may ask—are you doing next?” + </p> + <p> + She brooded a moment behind drooped lids; then, with a touch of hauteur: + “I’m going to Paris: to study for the stage.” + </p> + <p> + “The stage?” Darrow stared at her, dismayed. All his confused + contradictory impressions assumed a new aspect at this announcement; and + to hide his surprise he added lightly: “Ah—then you will have Paris, + after all!” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly Lady Ulrica’s Paris. It’s not likely to be roses, roses all the + way.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not, indeed.” Real compassion prompted him to continue: “Have you + any—any influence you can count on?” + </p> + <p> + She gave a somewhat flippant little laugh. “None but my own. I’ve never + had any other to count on.” + </p> + <p> + He passed over the obvious reply. “But have you any idea how the + profession is over-crowded? I know I’m trite——” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve a very clear idea. But I couldn’t go on as I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. But since, as you say, you’d stuck it out longer than any + of the others, couldn’t you at least have held on till you were sure of + some kind of an opening?” + </p> + <p> + She made no reply for a moment; then she turned a listless glance to the + rain-beaten window. “Oughtn’t we be starting?” she asked, with a lofty + assumption of indifference that might have been Lady Ulrica’s. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, surprised by the change, but accepting her rebuff as a phase of + what he guessed to be a confused and tormented mood, rose from his seat + and lifted her jacket from the chair-back on which she had hung it to dry. + As he held it toward her she looked up at him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “The truth is, we quarrelled,” she broke out, “and I left last night + without my dinner—and without my salary.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—” he groaned, with a sharp perception of all the sordid dangers + that might attend such a break with Mrs. Murrett. + </p> + <p> + “And without a character!” she added, as she slipped her arms into the + jacket. “And without a trunk, as it appears—but didn’t you say that, + before going, there’d be time for another look at the station?” + </p> + <p> + There was time for another look at the station; but the look again + resulted in disappointment, since her trunk was nowhere to be found in the + huge heap disgorged by the newly-arrived London express. The fact caused + Miss Viner a moment’s perturbation; but she promptly adjusted herself to + the necessity of proceeding on her journey, and her decision confirmed + Darrow’s vague resolve to go to Paris instead of retracing his way to + London. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner seemed cheered at the prospect of his company, and sustained by + his offer to telegraph to Charing Cross for the missing trunk; and he left + her to wait in the fly while he hastened back to the telegraph office. The + enquiry despatched, he was turning away from the desk when another thought + struck him and he went back and indited a message to his servant in + London: “If any letters with French post-mark received since departure + forward immediately to Terminus Hotel Gare du Nord Paris.” + </p> + <p> + Then he rejoined Miss Viner, and they drove off through the rain to the + pier. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Almost as soon as the train left Calais her head had dropped back into the + corner, and she had fallen asleep. + </p> + <p> + Sitting opposite, in the compartment from which he had contrived to have + other travellers excluded, Darrow looked at her curiously. He had never + seen a face that changed so quickly. A moment since it had danced like a + field of daisies in a summer breeze; now, under the pallid oscillating + light of the lamp overhead, it wore the hard stamp of experience, as of a + soft thing chilled into shape before its curves had rounded: and it moved + him to see that care already stole upon her when she slept. + </p> + <p> + The story she had imparted to him in the wheezing shaking cabin, and at + the Calais buffet—where he had insisted on offering her the dinner + she had missed at Mrs. Murrett’s—had given a distincter outline to + her figure. From the moment of entering the New York boarding-school to + which a preoccupied guardian had hastily consigned her after the death of + her parents, she had found herself alone in a busy and indifferent world. + Her youthful history might, in fact, have been summed up in the statement + that everybody had been too busy to look after her. Her guardian, a drudge + in a big banking house, was absorbed by “the office”; the guardian’s wife, + by her health and her religion; and an elder sister, Laura, married, + unmarried, remarried, and pursuing, through all these alternating phases, + some vaguely “artistic" ideal on which the guardian and his wife looked + askance, had (as Darrow conjectured) taken their disapproval as a pretext + for not troubling herself about poor Sophy, to whom—perhaps for this + reason—she had remained the incarnation of remote romantic + possibilities. + </p> + <p> + In the course of time a sudden “stroke” of the guardian’s had thrown his + personal affairs into a state of confusion from which—after his + widely lamented death—it became evident that it would not be + possible to extricate his ward’s inheritance. No one deplored this more + sincerely than his widow, who saw in it one more proof of her husband’s + life having been sacrificed to the innumerable duties imposed on him, and + who could hardly—but for the counsels of religion—have brought + herself to pardon the young girl for her indirect share in hastening his + end. Sophy did not resent this point of view. She was really much sorrier + for her guardian’s death than for the loss of her insignificant fortune. + The latter had represented only the means of holding her in bondage, and + its disappearance was the occasion of her immediate plunge into the wide + bright sea of life surrounding the island—of her captivity. She had first + landed—thanks to the intervention of the ladies who had directed her + education—in a Fifth Avenue school-room where, for a few months, she + acted as a buffer between three autocratic infants and their bodyguard of + nurses and teachers. The too-pressing attentions of their father’s valet + had caused her to fly this sheltered spot, against the express advice of + her educational superiors, who implied that, in their own case, refinement + and self-respect had always sufficed to keep the most ungovernable + passions at bay. The experience of the guardian’s widow having been + precisely similar, and the deplorable precedent of Laura’s career being + present to all their minds, none of these ladies felt any obligation to + intervene farther in Sophy’s affairs; and she was accordingly left to her + own resources. + </p> + <p> + A schoolmate from the Rocky Mountains, who was taking her father and + mother to Europe, had suggested Sophy’s accompanying them, and “going + round” with her while her progenitors, in the care of the courier, nursed + their ailments at a fashionable bath. Darrow gathered that the “going + round” with Mamie Hoke was a varied and diverting process; but this + relatively brilliant phase of Sophy’s career was cut short by the + elopement of the inconsiderate Mamie with a “matinee idol” who had + followed her from New York, and by the precipitate return of her parents + to negotiate for the repurchase of their child. + </p> + <p> + It was then—after an interval of repose with compassionate but + impecunious American friends in Paris—that Miss Viner had been drawn + into the turbid current of Mrs. Murrett’s career. The impecunious + compatriots had found Mrs. Murrett for her, and it was partly on their + account (because they were such dears, and so unconscious, poor confiding + things, of what they were letting her in for) that Sophy had stuck it out + so long in the dreadful house in Chelsea. The Farlows, she explained to + Darrow, were the best friends she had ever had (and the only ones who had + ever “been decent” about Laura, whom they had seen once, and intensely + admired); but even after twenty years of Paris they were the most + incorrigibly inexperienced angels, and quite persuaded that Mrs. Murrett + was a woman of great intellectual eminence, and the house at Chelsea “the + last of the salons”—Darrow knew what she meant? And she hadn’t liked + to undeceive them, knowing that to do so would be virtually to throw + herself back on their hands, and feeling, moreover, after her previous + experiences, the urgent need of gaining, at any cost, a name for + stability; besides which—she threw it off with a slight laugh—no + other chance, in all these years, had happened to come to her. + </p> + <p> + She had brushed in this outline of her career with light rapid strokes, + and in a tone of fatalism oddly untinged by bitterness. Darrow perceived + that she classified people according to their greater or less “luck” in + life, but she appeared to harbour no resentment against the undefined + power which dispensed the gift in such unequal measure. Things came one’s + way or they didn’t; and meanwhile one could only look on, and make the + most of small compensations, such as watching “the show” at Mrs. + Murrett’s, and talking over the Lady Ulricas and other footlight figures. + And at any moment, of course, a turn of the kaleidoscope might suddenly + toss a bright spangle into the grey pattern of one’s days. + </p> + <p> + This light-hearted philosophy was not without charm to a young man + accustomed to more traditional views. George Darrow had had a fairly + varied experience of feminine types, but the women he had frequented had + either been pronouncedly “ladies” or they had not. Grateful to both for + ministering to the more complex masculine nature, and disposed to assume + that they had been evolved, if not designed, to that end, he had + instinctively kept the two groups apart in his mind, avoiding that + intermediate society which attempts to conciliate both theories of life. + “Bohemianism” seemed to him a cheaper convention than the other two, and + he liked, above all, people who went as far as they could in their own + line—liked his “ladies” and their rivals to be equally unashamed of + showing for exactly what they were. He had not indeed—the fact of + Lady Ulrica was there to remind him—been without his experience of a + third type; but that experience had left him with a contemptuous distaste + for the woman who uses the privileges of one class to shelter the customs + of another. + </p> + <p> + As to young girls, he had never thought much about them since his early + love for the girl who had become Mrs. Leath. That episode seemed, as he + looked back on it, to bear no more relation to reality than a pale + decorative design to the confused richness of a summer landscape. He no + longer understood the violent impulses and dreamy pauses of his own young + heart, or the inscrutable abandonments and reluctances of hers. He had + known a moment of anguish at losing her—the mad plunge of youthful + instincts against the barrier of fate; but the first wave of stronger + sensation had swept away all but the outline of their story, and the + memory of Anna Summers had made the image of the young girl sacred, but + the class uninteresting. + </p> + <p> + Such generalisations belonged, however, to an earlier stage of his + experience. The more he saw of life the more incalculable he found it; and + he had learned to yield to his impressions without feeling the youthful + need of relating them to others. It was the girl in the opposite seat who + had roused in him the dormant habit of comparison. She was distinguished + from the daughters of wealth by her avowed acquaintance with the real + business of living, a familiarity as different as possible from their + theoretical proficiency; yet it seemed to Darrow that her experience had + made her free without hardness and self-assured without assertiveness. + </p> + <p> + The rush into Amiens, and the flash of the station lights into their + compartment, broke Miss Viner’s sleep, and without changing her position + she lifted her lids and looked at Darrow. There was neither surprise nor + bewilderment in the look. She seemed instantly conscious, not so much of + where she was, as of the fact that she was with him; and that fact seemed + enough to reassure her. She did not even turn her head to look out; her + eyes continued to rest on him with a vague smile which appeared to light + her face from within, while her lips kept their sleepy droop. + </p> + <p> + Shouts and the hurried tread of travellers came to them through the + confusing cross-lights of the platform. A head appeared at the window, and + Darrow threw himself forward to defend their solitude; but the intruder + was only a train hand going his round of inspection. He passed on, and the + lights and cries of the station dropped away, merged in a wider haze and a + hollower resonance, as the train gathered itself up with a long shake and + rolled out again into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner’s head sank back against the cushion, pushing out a dusky wave + of hair above her forehead. The swaying of the train loosened a lock over + her ear, and she shook it back with a movement like a boy’s, while her + gaze still rested on her companion. + </p> + <p> + “You’re not too tired?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be in before midnight. We’re very nearly on time.” He verified + the statement by holding up his watch to the lamp. + </p> + <p> + She nodded dreamily. “It’s all right. I telegraphed Mrs. Farlow that they + mustn’t think of coming to the station; but they’ll have told the + concierge to look out for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll let me drive you there?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded again, and her eyes closed. It was very pleasant to Darrow that + she made no effort to talk or to dissemble her sleepiness. He sat watching + her till the upper lashes met and mingled with the lower, and their blent + shadow lay on her cheek; then he stood up and drew the curtain over the + lamp, drowning the compartment in a bluish twilight. + </p> + <p> + As he sank back into his seat he thought how differently Anna Summers—or + even Anna Leath—would have behaved. She would not have talked too + much; she would not have been either restless or embarrassed; but her + adaptability, her appropriateness, would not have been nature but “tact.” + The oddness of the situation would have made sleep impossible, or, if + weariness had overcome her for a moment, she would have waked with a + start, wondering where she was, and how she had come there, and if her + hair were tidy; and nothing short of hairpins and a glass would have + restored her self-possession... + </p> + <p> + The reflection set him wondering whether the “sheltered” girl’s + bringing-up might not unfit her for all subsequent contact with life. How + much nearer to it had Mrs. Leath been brought by marriage and motherhood, + and the passage of fourteen years? What were all her reticences and + evasions but the result of the deadening process of forming a “lady”? The + freshness he had marvelled at was like the unnatural whiteness of flowers + forced in the dark. + </p> + <p> + As he looked back at their few days together he saw that their intercourse + had been marked, on her part, by the same hesitations and reserves which + had chilled their earlier intimacy. Once more they had had their hour + together and she had wasted it. As in her girlhood, her eyes had made + promises which her lips were afraid to keep. She was still afraid of life, + of its ruthlessness, its danger and mystery. She was still the petted + little girl who cannot be left alone in the dark.... His memory flew back to + their youthful story, and long-forgotten details took shape before him. + How frail and faint the picture was! They seemed, he and she, like the + ghostly lovers of the Grecian Urn, forever pursuing without ever clasping + each other. To this day he did not quite know what had parted them: the + break had been as fortuitous as the fluttering apart of two seed-vessels + on a wave of summer air... + </p> + <p> + The very slightness, vagueness, of the memory gave it an added poignancy. + He felt the mystic pang of the parent for a child which has just breathed + and died. Why had it happened thus, when the least shifting of influences + might have made it all so different? If she had been given to him then he + would have put warmth in her veins and light in her eyes: would have made + her a woman through and through. Musing thus, he had the sense of waste + that is the bitterest harvest of experience. A love like his might have + given her the divine gift of self-renewal; and now he saw her fated to + wane into old age repeating the same gestures, echoing the words she had + always heard, and perhaps never guessing that, just outside her glazed and + curtained consciousness, life rolled away, a vast blackness starred with + lights, like the night landscape beyond the windows of the train. + </p> + <p> + The engine lowered its speed for the passage through a sleeping station. + In the light of the platform lamp Darrow looked across at his companion. + Her head had dropped toward one shoulder, and her lips were just far + enough apart for the reflection of the upper one to deepen the colour of + the other. The jolting of the train had again shaken loose the lock above + her ear. It danced on her cheek like the flit of a brown wing over + flowers, and Darrow felt an intense desire to lean forward and put it back + behind her ear. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + As their motor-cab, on the way from the Gare du Nord, turned into the + central glitter of the Boulevard, Darrow had bent over to point out an + incandescent threshold. + </p> + <p> + “There!” + </p> + <p> + Above the doorway, an arch of flame flashed out the name of a great + actress, whose closing performances in a play of unusual originality had + been the theme of long articles in the Paris papers which Darrow had + tossed into their compartment at Calais. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what you must see before you’re twenty-four hours older!” + </p> + <p> + The girl followed his gesture eagerly. She was all awake and alive now, as + if the heady rumours of the streets, with their long effervescences of + light, had passed into her veins like wine. + </p> + <p> + “Cerdine? Is that where she acts?” She put her head out of the window, + straining back for a glimpse of the sacred threshold. As they flew past it + she sank into her seat with a satisfied sigh. + </p> + <p> + “It’s delicious enough just to <i>know</i> she’s there! I’ve never seen her, you + know. When I was here with Mamie Hoke we never went anywhere but to the + music halls, because she couldn’t understand any French; and when I came + back afterward to the Farlows’ I was dead broke, and couldn’t afford the + play, and neither could they; so the only chance we had was when friends + of theirs invited us—and once it was to see a tragedy by a Roumanian + lady, and the other time it was for ‘L’Ami Fritz’ at the Français.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow laughed. “You must do better than that now. ‘Le Vertige’ is a fine + thing, and Cerdine gets some wonderful effects out of it. You must come + with me tomorrow evening to see it—with your friends, of course.—That + is,” he added, “if there’s any sort of chance of getting seats.” + </p> + <p> + The flash of a street lamp lit up her radiant face. “Oh, will you really + take us? What fun to think that it’s tomorrow already!” + </p> + <p> + It was wonderfully pleasant to be able to give such pleasure. Darrow was + not rich, but it was almost impossible for him to picture the state of + persons with tastes and perceptions like his own, to whom an evening at + the theatre was an unattainable indulgence. There floated through his mind + an answer of Mrs. Leath’s to his enquiry whether she had seen the play in + question. “No. I meant to, of course, but one is so overwhelmed with + things in Paris. And then I’m rather sick of Cerdine—one is always + being dragged to see her.” + </p> + <p> + That, among the people he frequented, was the usual attitude toward such + opportunities. There were too many, they were a nuisance, one had to + defend one’s self! He even remembered wondering, at the moment, whether to + a really fine taste the exceptional thing could ever become indifferent + through habit; whether the appetite for beauty was so soon dulled that it + could be kept alive only by privation. Here, at any rate, was a fine + chance to experiment with such a hunger: he almost wished he might stay on + in Paris long enough to take the measure of Miss Viner’s receptivity. + </p> + <p> + She was still dwelling on his promise, “It’s too beautiful of you! Oh, + don’t you <i>think</i> you’ll be able to get seats?” And then, after a pause of + brimming appreciation: “I wonder if you’ll think me horrid?—but it + may be my only chance; and if you can’t get places for us all, wouldn’t + you perhaps just take <i>me</i>? After all, the Farlows may have seen it!” + </p> + <p> + He had not, of course, thought her horrid, but only the more engaging, for + being so natural, and so unashamed of showing the frank greed of her + famished youth. “Oh, you shall go somehow!” he had gaily promised her; and + she had dropped back with a sigh of pleasure as their cab passed into the + dimly-lit streets of the Farlows’ quarter beyond the Seine... + </p> + <p> + This little passage came back to him the next morning, as he opened his + hotel window on the early roar of the Northern Terminus. + </p> + <p> + The girl was there, in the room next to him. That had been the first point + in his waking consciousness. The second was a sense of relief at the + obligation imposed on him by this unexpected turn of everts. To wake to + the necessity of action, to postpone perforce the fruitless contemplation + of his private grievance, was cause enough for gratitude, even if the + small adventure in which he found himself involved had not, on its own + merits, roused an instinctive curiosity to see it through. + </p> + <p> + When he and his companion, the night before, had reached the Farlows’ door + in the rue de la Chaise, it was only to find, after repeated assaults on + its panels, that the Farlows were no longer there. They had moved away the + week before, not only from their apartment but from Paris; and Miss + Viner’s breach with Mrs. Murrett had been too sudden to permit her letter + and telegram to overtake them. Both communications, no doubt, still + reposed in a pigeon-hole of the loge; but its custodian, when drawn from + his lair, sulkily declined to let Miss Viner verify the fact, and only + flung out, in return for Darrow’s bribe, the statement that the Americans + had gone to Joigny. + </p> + <p> + To pursue them there at that hour was manifestly impossible, and Miss + Viner, disturbed but not disconcerted by this new obstacle, had quite + simply acceded to Darrow’s suggestion that she should return for what + remained of the night to the hotel where he had sent his luggage. + </p> + <p> + The drive back through the dark hush before dawn, with the nocturnal blaze + of the Boulevard fading around them like the false lights of a magician’s + palace, had so played on her impressionability that she seemed to give no + farther thought to her own predicament. Darrow noticed that she did not + feel the beauty and mystery of the spectacle as much as its pressure of + human significance, all its hidden implications of emotion and adventure. + As they passed the shadowy colonnade of the Français, remote and + temple-like in the paling lights, he felt a clutch on his arm, and heard + the cry: “There are things <i>there</i> that I want so desperately to see!” and + all the way back to the hotel she continued to question him, with shrewd + precision and an artless thirst for detail, about the theatrical life of + Paris. He was struck afresh, as he listened, by the way in which her + naturalness eased the situation of constraint, leaving to it only a + pleasant savour of good fellowship. It was the kind of episode that one + might, in advance, have characterized as “awkward”, yet that was proving, + in the event, as much outside such definitions as a sunrise stroll with a + dryad in a dew-drenched forest; and Darrow reflected that mankind would + never have needed to invent tact if it had not first invented social + complications. + </p> + <p> + It had been understood, with his good-night to Miss Viner, that the next + morning he was to look up the Joigny trains, and see her safely to the + station; but, while he breakfasted and waited for a time-table, he + recalled again her cry of joy at the prospect of seeing Cerdine. It was + certainly a pity, since that most elusive and incalculable of artists was + leaving the next week for South America, to miss what might be a last + sight of her in her greatest part; and Darrow, having dressed and made the + requisite excerpts from the time-table, decided to carry the result of his + deliberations to his neighbour’s door. + </p> + <p> + It instantly opened at his knock, and she came forth looking as if she had + been plunged into some sparkling element which had curled up all her + drooping tendrils and wrapped her in a shimmer of fresh leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of me?” she cried; and with a hand at her waist + she spun about as if to show off some miracle of Parisian dress-making. + </p> + <p> + “I think the missing trunk has come—and that it was worth waiting + for!” + </p> + <p> + “You <i>do</i> like my dress?” + </p> + <p> + “I adore it! I always adore new dresses—why, you don’t mean to say + it’s <i>not</i> a new one?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed out her triumph. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! My trunk hasn’t come, and this is only my old rag of + yesterday—but I never knew the trick to fail!” And, as he stared: + “You see,” she joyously explained, “I’ve always had to dress in all kinds + of dreary left-overs, and sometimes, when everybody else was smart and + new, it used to make me awfully miserable. So one day, when Mrs. Murrett + dragged me down unexpectedly to fill a place at dinner, I suddenly thought + I’d try spinning around like that, and say to every one: ‘<i>Well, what do + you think of me</i>?’ And, do you know, they were all taken in, including Mrs. + Murrett, who didn’t recognize my old turned and dyed rags, and told me + afterward it was awfully bad form to dress as if I were somebody that + people would expect to know! And ever since, whenever I’ve particularly + wanted to look nice, I’ve just asked people what they thought of my new + frock; and they’re always, always taken in!” + </p> + <p> + She dramatized her explanation so vividly that Darrow felt as if his point + were gained. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but this confirms your vocation—of course,” he cried, “you must + see Cerdine!” and, seeing her face fall at this reminder of the change in + her prospects, he hastened to set forth his plan. As he did so, he saw how + easy it was to explain things to her. She would either accept his + suggestion, or she would not: but at least she would waste no time in + protestations and objections, or any vain sacrifice to the idols of + conformity. The conviction that one could, on any given point, almost + predicate this of her, gave him the sense of having advanced far enough in + her intimacy to urge his arguments against a hasty pursuit of her friends. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it would certainly be foolish—she at once agreed—in the + case of such dear indefinite angels as the Farlows, to dash off after them + without more positive proof that they were established at Joigny, and so + established that they could take her in. She owned it was but too probable + that they had gone there to “cut down”, and might be doing so in quarters + too contracted to receive her; and it would be unfair, on that chance, to + impose herself on them unannounced. The simplest way of getting farther + light on the question would be to go back to the rue de la Chaise, where, + at that more conversable hour, the concierge might be less chary of + detail; and she could decide on her next step in the light of such facts + as he imparted. + </p> + <p> + Point by point, she fell in with the suggestion, recognizing, in the light + of their unexplained flight, that the Farlows might indeed be in a + situation on which one could not too rashly intrude. Her concern for her + friends seemed to have effaced all thought of herself, and this little + indication of character gave Darrow a quite disproportionate pleasure. She + agreed that it would be well to go at once to the rue de la Chaise, but + met his proposal that they should drive by the declaration that it was a + “waste” not to walk in Paris; so they set off on foot through the cheerful + tumult of the streets. + </p> + <p> + The walk was long enough for him to learn many things about her. The storm + of the previous night had cleared the air, and Paris shone in morning + beauty under a sky that was all broad wet washes of white and blue; but + Darrow again noticed that her visual sensitiveness was less keen than her + feeling for what he was sure the good Farlows—whom he already seemed + to know—would have called “the human interest.” She seemed hardly + conscious of sensations of form and colour, or of any imaginative + suggestion, and the spectacle before them—always, in its scenic + splendour, so moving to her companion—broke up, under her scrutiny, + into a thousand minor points: the things in the shops, the types of + character and manner of occupation shown in the passing faces, the street + signs, the names of the hotels they passed, the motley brightness of the + flower-carts, the identity of the churches and public buildings that + caught her eye. But what she liked best, he divined, was the mere fact of + being free to walk abroad in the bright air, her tongue rattling on as it + pleased, while her feet kept time to the mighty orchestration of the + city’s sounds. Her delight in the fresh air, in the freedom, light and + sparkle of the morning, gave him a sudden insight into her stifled past; + nor was it indifferent to him to perceive how much his presence evidently + added to her enjoyment. If only as a sympathetic ear, he guessed what he + must be worth to her. The girl had been dying for some one to talk to, + some one before whom she could unfold and shake out to the light her poor + little shut-away emotions. Years of repression were revealed in her sudden + burst of confidence; and the pity she inspired made Darrow long to fill + her few free hours to the brim. + </p> + <p> + She had the gift of rapid definition, and his questions as to the life she + had led with the Farlows, during the interregnum between the Hoke and + Murrett eras, called up before him a queer little corner of Parisian + existence. The Farlows themselves—he a painter, she a “magazine + writer”—rose before him in all their incorruptible simplicity: an + elderly New England couple, with vague yearnings for enfranchisement, who + lived in Paris as if it were a Massachusetts suburb, and dwelt hopefully + on the “higher side” of the Gallic nature. With equal vividness she set + before him the component figures of the circle from which Mrs. Farlow drew + the “Inner Glimpses of French Life” appearing over her name in a leading + New England journal: the Roumanian lady who had sent them tickets for her + tragedy, an elderly French gentleman who, on the strength of a week’s stay + at Folkestone, translated English fiction for the provincial press, a lady + from Wichita, Kansas, who advocated free love and the abolition of the + corset, a clergyman’s widow from Torquay who had written an “English + Ladies’ Guide to Foreign Galleries” and a Russian sculptor who lived on + nuts and was “almost certainly” an anarchist. It was this nucleus, and its + outer ring of musical, architectural and other American students, which + posed successively to Mrs. Farlow’s versatile fancy as a centre of + “University Life”, a “Salon of the Faubourg St. Germain”, a group of + Parisian “Intellectuals” or a “Cross-section of Montmartre”; but even her + faculty for extracting from it the most varied literary effects had not + sufficed to create a permanent demand for the “Inner Glimpses”, and there + were days when—Mr. Farlow’s landscapes being equally unmarketable—a + temporary withdrawal to the country (subsequently utilized as “Peeps into + Chateau Life”) became necessary to the courageous couple. + </p> + <p> + Five years of Mrs. Murrett’s world, while increasing Sophy’s tenderness + for the Farlows, had left her with few illusions as to their power of + advancing her fortunes; and she did not conceal from Darrow that her + theatrical projects were of the vaguest. They hung mainly on the + problematical good-will of an ancient comedienne, with whom Mrs. Farlow + had a slight acquaintance (extensively utilized in “Stars of the French + Footlights” and “Behind the Scenes at the Français”), and who had once, + with signs of approval, heard Miss Viner recite the Nuit de Mai. + </p> + <p> + “But of course I know how much that’s worth,” the girl broke off, with one + of her flashes of shrewdness. “And besides, it isn’t likely that a poor + old fossil like Mme. Dolle could get anybody to listen to her now, even if + she really thought I had talent. But she might introduce me to people; or + at least give me a few tips. If I could manage to earn enough to pay for + lessons I’d go straight to some of the big people and work with them. I’m + rather hoping the Farlows may find me a chance of that kind—an + engagement with some American family in Paris who would want to be ‘gone + round’ with like the Hokes, and who’d leave me time enough to study.” + </p> + <p> + In the rue de la Chaise they learned little except the exact address of + the Farlows, and the fact that they had sub-let their flat before leaving. + This information obtained, Darrow proposed to Miss Viner that they should + stroll along the quays to a little restaurant looking out on the Seine, + and there, over the plat du jour, consider the next step to be taken. The + long walk had given her cheeks a glow indicative of wholesome hunger, and + she made no difficulty about satisfying it in Darrow’s company. Regaining + the river they walked on in the direction of Notre Dame, delayed now and + again by the young man’s irresistible tendency to linger over the + bookstalls, and by his ever-fresh response to the shifting beauties of the + scene. For two years his eyes had been subdued to the atmospheric effects + of London, to the mysterious fusion of darkly-piled city and low-lying + bituminous sky; and the transparency of the French air, which left the + green gardens and silvery stones so classically clear yet so softly + harmonized, struck him as having a kind of conscious intelligence. Every + line of the architecture, every arch of the bridges, the very sweep of the + strong bright river between them, while contributing to this effect, sent + forth each a separate appeal to some sensitive memory; so that, for + Darrow, a walk through the Paris streets was always like the unrolling of + a vast tapestry from which countless stored fragrances were shaken out. + </p> + <p> + It was a proof of the richness and multiplicity of the spectacle that it + served, without incongruity, for so different a purpose as the background + of Miss Viner’s enjoyment. As a mere drop-scene for her personal adventure + it was just as much in its place as in the evocation of great perspectives + of feeling. For her, as he again perceived when they were seated at their + table in a low window above the Seine, Paris was “Paris” by virtue of all + its entertaining details, its endless ingenuities of pleasantness. Where + else, for instance, could one find the dear little dishes of hors + d’oeuvre, the symmetrically-laid anchovies and radishes, the thin golden + shells of butter, or the wood strawberries and brown jars of cream that + gave to their repast the last refinement of rusticity? Hadn’t he noticed, + she asked, that cooking always expressed the national character, and that + French food was clever and amusing just because the people were? And in + private houses, everywhere, how the dishes always resembled the talk—how + the very same platitudes seemed to go into people’s mouths and come out of + them? Couldn’t he see just what kind of menu it would make, if a fairy + waved a wand and suddenly turned the conversation at a London dinner into + joints and puddings? She always thought it a good sign when people liked + Irish stew; it meant that they enjoyed changes and surprises, and taking + life as it came; and such a beautiful Parisian version of the dish as the + navarin that was just being set before them was like the very best kind of + talk—the kind when one could never tell before-hand just what was + going to be said! + </p> + <p> + Darrow, as he watched her enjoyment of their innocent feast, wondered if + her vividness and vivacity were signs of her calling. She was the kind of + girl in whom certain people would instantly have recognized the histrionic + gift. But experience had led him to think that, except at the creative + moment, the divine flame burns low in its possessors. The one or two + really intelligent actresses he had known had struck him, in conversation, + as either bovine or primitively “jolly”. He had a notion that, save in the + mind of genius, the creative process absorbs too much of the whole stuff + of being to leave much surplus for personal expression; and the girl + before him, with her changing face and flexible fancies, seemed destined + to work in life itself rather than in any of its counterfeits. + </p> + <p> + The coffee and liqueurs were already on the table when her mind suddenly + sprang back to the Farlows. She jumped up with one of her subversive + movements and declared that she must telegraph at once. Darrow called for + writing materials and room was made at her elbow for the parched + ink-bottle and saturated blotter of the Parisian restaurant; but the mere + sight of these jaded implements seemed to paralyze Miss Viner’s faculties. + She hung over the telegraph-form with anxiously-drawn brow, the tip of the + pen-handle pressed against her lip; and at length she raised her troubled + eyes to Darrow’s. + </p> + <p> + “I simply can’t think how to say it.” + </p> + <p> + “What—that you’re staying over to see Cerdine?” + </p> + <p> + “But <i>am</i> I—am I, really?” The joy of it flamed over her face. + </p> + <p> + Darrow looked at his watch. “You could hardly get an answer to your + telegram in time to take a train to Joigny this afternoon, even if you + found your friends could have you.” + </p> + <p> + She mused for a moment, tapping her lip with the pen. “But I must let them + know I’m here. I must find out as soon as possible if they <i>can</i>, have me.” + She laid the pen down despairingly. “I never <i>could</i> write a telegram!” she + sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Try a letter, then and tell them you’ll arrive tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion produced immediate relief, and she gave an energetic dab + at the ink-bottle; but after another interval of uncertain scratching she + paused again. “Oh, it’s fearful! I don’t know what on earth to say. I + wouldn’t for the world have them know how beastly Mrs. Murrett’s been.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow did not think it necessary to answer. It was no business of his, + after all. He lit a cigar and leaned back in his seat, letting his eyes + take their fill of indolent pleasure. In the throes of invention she had + pushed back her hat, loosening the stray lock which had invited his touch + the night before. After looking at it for a while he stood up and wandered + to the window. + </p> + <p> + Behind him he heard her pen scrape on. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to worry them—I’m so certain they’ve got bothers of + their own.” The faltering scratches ceased again. “I wish I weren’t such + an idiot about writing: all the words get frightened and scurry away when + I try to catch them.” He glanced back at her with a smile as she bent + above her task like a school-girl struggling with a “composition.” Her + flushed cheek and frowning brow showed that her difficulty was genuine and + not an artless device to draw him to her side. She was really powerless to + put her thoughts in writing, and the inability seemed characteristic of + her quick impressionable mind, and of the incessant come-and-go of her + sensations. He thought of Anna Leath’s letters, or rather of the few he + had received, years ago, from the girl who had been Anna Summers. He saw + the slender firm strokes of the pen, recalled the clear structure of the + phrases, and, by an abrupt association of ideas, remembered that, at that + very hour, just such a document might be awaiting him at the hotel. + </p> + <p> + What if it were there, indeed, and had brought him a complete explanation + of her telegram? The revulsion of feeling produced by this thought made + him look at the girl with sudden impatience. She struck him as positively + stupid, and he wondered how he could have wasted half his day with her, + when all the while Mrs. Leath’s letter might be lying on his table. At + that moment, if he could have chosen, he would have left his companion on + the spot; but he had her on his hands, and must accept the consequences. + </p> + <p> + Some odd intuition seemed to make her conscious of his change of mood, for + she sprang from her seat, crumpling the letter in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I’m too stupid; but I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll go back to the + hotel and write there.” + </p> + <p> + Her colour deepened, and for the first time, as their eyes met, he noticed + a faint embarrassment in hers. Could it be that his nearness was, after + all, the cause of her confusion? The thought turned his vague impatience + with her into a definite resentment toward himself. There was really no + excuse for his having blundered into such an adventure. Why had he not + shipped the girl off to Joigny by the evening train, instead of urging her + to delay, and using Cerdine as a pretext? Paris was full of people he + knew, and his annoyance was increased by the thought that some friend of + Mrs. Leath’s might see him at the play, and report his presence there with + a suspiciously good-looking companion. The idea was distinctly + disagreeable: he did not want the woman he adored to think he could forget + her for a moment. And by this time he had fully persuaded himself that a + letter from her was awaiting him, and had even gone so far as to imagine + that its contents might annul the writer’s telegraphed injunction, and + call him to her side at once... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + At the porter’s desk a brief “Pas de lettres” fell destructively on the + fabric of these hopes. Mrs. Leath had not written—she had not taken + the trouble to explain her telegram. Darrow turned away with a sharp pang + of humiliation. Her frugal silence mocked his prodigality of hopes and + fears. He had put his question to the porter once before, on returning to + the hotel after luncheon; and now, coming back again in the late + afternoon, he was met by the same denial. The second post was in, and had + brought him nothing. + </p> + <p> + A glance at his watch showed that he had barely time to dress before + taking Miss Viner out to dine; but as he turned to the lift a new thought + struck him, and hurrying back into the hall he dashed off another telegram + to his servant: “Have you forwarded any letter with French postmark today? + Telegraph answer Terminus.” + </p> + <p> + Some kind of reply would be certain to reach him on his return from the + theatre, and he would then know definitely whether Mrs. Leath meant to + write or not. He hastened up to his room and dressed with a lighter heart. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner’s vagrant trunk had finally found its way to its owner; and, + clad in such modest splendour as it furnished, she shone at Darrow across + their restaurant table. In the reaction of his wounded vanity he found her + prettier and more interesting than before. Her dress, sloping away from + the throat, showed the graceful set of her head on its slender neck, and + the wide brim of her hat arched above her hair like a dusky halo. Pleasure + danced in her eyes and on her lips, and as she shone on him between the + candle-shades Darrow felt that he should not be at all sorry to be seen + with her in public. He even sent a careless glance about him in the vague + hope that it might fall on an acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + At the theatre her vivacity sank into a breathless hush, and she sat + intent in her corner of their <i>baignoire</i>, with the gaze of a neophyte about + to be initiated into the sacred mysteries. Darrow placed himself behind + her, that he might catch her profile between himself and the stage. He was + touched by the youthful seriousness of her expression. In spite of the + experiences she must have had, and of the twenty-four years to which she + owned, she struck him as intrinsically young; and he wondered how so + evanescent a quality could have been preserved in the desiccating Murrett + air. As the play progressed he noticed that her immobility was traversed + by swift flashes of perception. She was not missing anything, and her + intensity of attention when Cerdine was on the stage drew an anxious line + between her brows. + </p> + <p> + After the first act she remained for a few minutes rapt and motionless; + then she turned to her companion with a quick patter of questions. He + gathered from them that she had been less interested in following the + general drift of the play than in observing the details of its + interpretation. Every gesture and inflection of the great actress’s had + been marked and analyzed; and Darrow felt a secret gratification in being + appealed to as an authority on the histrionic art. His interest in it had + hitherto been merely that of the cultivated young man curious of all forms + of artistic expression; but in reply to her questions he found things to + say about it which evidently struck his listener as impressive and + original, and with which he himself was not, on the whole, dissatisfied. + Miss Viner was much more concerned to hear his views than to express her + own, and the deference with which she received his comments called from + him more ideas about the theatre than he had ever supposed himself to + possess. + </p> + <p> + With the second act she began to give more attention to the development of + the play, though her interest was excited rather by what she called “the + story” than by the conflict of character producing it. Oddly combined with + her sharp apprehension of things theatrical, her knowledge of technical + “dodges” and green-room precedents, her glibness about “lines” and + “curtains”, was the primitive simplicity of her attitude toward the tale + itself, as toward something that was “really happening” and at which one + assisted as at a street-accident or a quarrel overheard in the next room. + She wanted to know if Darrow thought the lovers “really would” be involved + in the catastrophe that threatened them, and when he reminded her that his + predictions were disqualified by his having already seen the play, she + exclaimed: “Oh, then, please don’t tell me what’s going to happen!” and + the next moment was questioning him about Cerdine’s theatrical situation + and her private history. On the latter point some of her enquiries were of + a kind that it is not in the habit of young girls to make, or even to know + how to make; but her apparent unconsciousness of the fact seemed rather to + reflect on her past associates than on herself. + </p> + <p> + When the second act was over, Darrow suggested their taking a turn in the + foyer; and seated on one of its cramped red velvet sofas they watched the + crowd surge up and down in a glare of lights and gilding. Then, as she + complained of the heat, he led her through the press to the congested <i>café</i> + at the foot of the stairs, where orangeades were thrust at them between + the shoulders of packed <i>consommateurs</i> and Darrow, lighting a cigarette + while she sucked her straw, knew the primitive complacency of the man at + whose companion other men stare. + </p> + <p> + On a corner of their table lay a smeared copy of a theatrical journal. It + caught Sophy’s eye and after poring over the page she looked up with an + excited exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “They’re giving <i>Oedipe</i> tomorrow afternoon at the Français! I suppose + you’ve seen it heaps and heaps of times?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled back at her. “You must see it too. We’ll go tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed at his suggestion, but without discarding it. “How can I? The + last train for Joigny leaves at four.” + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t know yet that your friends will want you.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall know tomorrow early. I asked Mrs. Farlow to telegraph as soon as + she got my letter.” A twinge of compunction shot through Darrow. Her words + recalled to him that on their return to the hotel after luncheon she had + given him her letter to post, and that he had never thought of it again. + No doubt it was still in the pocket of the coat he had taken off when he + dressed for dinner. In his perturbation he pushed back his chair, and the + movement made her look up at him. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Only—you know I don’t fancy that letter can have caught + this afternoon’s post.” + </p> + <p> + “Not caught it? Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I’m afraid it will have been too late.” He bent his head to light + another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + She struck her hands together with a gesture which, to his amusement, he + noticed she had caught from Cerdine. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, I hadn’t thought of that! But surely it will reach them in the + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Some time in the morning, I suppose. You know the French provincial post + is never in a hurry. I don’t believe your letter would have been delivered + this evening in any case.” As this idea occurred to him he felt himself + almost absolved. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, then, I ought to have telegraphed?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll telegraph for you in the morning if you say so.” + </p> + <p> + The bell announcing the close of the entr’-acte shrilled through the <i>café</i>, + and she sprang to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, come! We mustn’t miss it!” + </p> + <p> + Instantly forgetful of the Farlows, she slipped her arm through his and + turned to push her way back to the theatre. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the curtain went up she as promptly forgot her companion. + Watching her from the corner to which he had returned, Darrow saw that + great waves of sensation were beating deliciously against her brain. It + was as though every starved sensibility were throwing out feelers to the + mounting tide; as though everything she was seeing, hearing, imagining, + rushed in to fill the void of all she had always been denied. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, as he observed her, again felt a detached enjoyment in her + pleasure. She was an extraordinary conductor of sensation: she seemed to + transmit it physically, in emanations that set the blood dancing in his + veins. He had not often had the opportunity of studying the effects of a + perfectly fresh impression on so responsive a temperament, and he felt a + fleeting desire to make its chords vibrate for his own amusement. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the next act she discovered with dismay that in their + transit to the <i>café</i> she had lost the beautiful pictured programme he had + bought for her. She wanted to go back and hunt for it, but Darrow assured + her that he would have no trouble in getting her another. When he went out + in quest of it she followed him protestingly to the door of the box, and + he saw that she was distressed at the thought of his having to spend an + additional franc for her. This frugality smote Darrow by its contrast to + her natural bright profusion; and again he felt the desire to right so + clumsy an injustice. + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the box she was still standing in the doorway, and he + noticed that his were not the only eyes attracted to her. Then another + impression sharply diverted his attention. Above the fagged faces of the + Parisian crowd he had caught the fresh fair countenance of Owen Leath + signalling a joyful recognition. The young man, slim and eager, had + detached himself from two companions of his own type, and was seeking to + push through the press to his step-mother’s friend. The encounter, to + Darrow, could hardly have been more inopportune; it woke in him a + confusion of feelings of which only the uppermost was allayed by seeing + Sophy Viner, as if instinctively warned, melt back into the shadow of + their box. + </p> + <p> + A minute later Owen Leath was at his side. “I was sure it was you! Such + luck to run across you! Won’t you come off with us to supper after it’s + over? Montmartre, or wherever else you please. Those two chaps over there + are friends of mine, at the Beaux Arts; both of them rather good fellows—and + we’d be so glad——” + </p> + <p> + For half a second Darrow read in his hospitable eye the termination “if + you’d bring the lady too”; then it deflected into: “We’d all be so glad if + you’d come.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow, excusing himself with thanks, lingered on for a few minutes’ chat, + in which every word, and every tone of his companion’s voice, was like a + sharp light flashed into aching eyes. He was glad when the bell called the + audience to their seats, and young Leath left him with the friendly + question: “We’ll see you at Givre later on?” + </p> + <p> + When he rejoined Miss Viner, Darrow’s first care was to find out, by a + rapid inspection of the house, whether Owen Leath’s seat had given him a + view of their box. But the young man was not visible from it, and Darrow + concluded that he had been recognized in the corridor and not at his + companion’s side. He scarcely knew why it seemed to him so important that + this point should be settled; certainly his sense of reassurance was less + due to regard for Miss Viner than to the persistent vision of grave + offended eyes... + </p> + <p> + During the drive back to the hotel this vision was persistently kept + before him by the thought that the evening post might have brought a + letter from Mrs. Leath. Even if no letter had yet come, his servant might + have telegraphed to say that one was on its way; and at the thought his + interest in the girl at his side again cooled to the fraternal, the almost + fatherly. She was no more to him, after all, than an appealing young + creature to whom it was mildly agreeable to have offered an evening’s + diversion; and when, as they rolled into the illuminated court of the + hotel, she turned with a quick movement which brought her happy face close + to his, he leaned away, affecting to be absorbed in opening the door of + the cab. + </p> + <p> + At the desk the night porter, after a vain search through the + pigeon-holes, was disposed to think that a letter or telegram had in fact + been sent up for the gentleman; and Darrow, at the announcement, could + hardly wait to ascend to his room. Upstairs, he and his companion had the + long dimly-lit corridor to themselves, and Sophy paused on her threshold, + gathering up in one hand the pale folds of her cloak, while she held the + other out to Darrow. + </p> + <p> + “If the telegram comes early I shall be off by the first train; so I + suppose this is good-bye,” she said, her eyes dimmed by a little shadow of + regret. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, with a renewed start of contrition, perceived that he had again + forgotten her letter; and as their hands met he vowed to himself that the + moment she had left him he would dash down stairs to post it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ll see you in the morning, of course!” + </p> + <p> + A tremor of pleasure crossed her face as he stood before her, smiling a + little uncertainly. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate,” she said, “I want to thank you now for my good day.” + </p> + <p> + He felt in her hand the same tremor he had seen in her face. “But it’s + <i>you</i>, on the contrary—” he began, lifting the hand to his lips. + </p> + <p> + As he dropped it, and their eyes met, something passed through hers that + was like a light carried rapidly behind a curtained window. + </p> + <p> + “Good night; you must be awfully tired,” he said with a friendly + abruptness, turning away without even waiting to see her pass into her + room. He unlocked his door, and stumbling over the threshold groped in the + darkness for the electric button. The light showed him a telegram on the + table, and he forgot everything else as he caught it up. + </p> + <p> + “No letter from France,” the message read. + </p> + <p> + It fell from Darrow’s hand to the floor, and he dropped into a chair by + the table and sat gazing at the dingy drab and olive pattern of the + carpet. She had not written, then; she had not written, and it was + manifest now that she did not mean to write. If she had had any intention + of explaining her telegram she would certainly, within twenty-four hours, + have followed it up by a letter. But she evidently did not intend to + explain it, and her silence could mean only that she had no explanation to + give, or else that she was too indifferent to be aware that one was + needed. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, face to face with these alternatives, felt a recrudescence of + boyish misery. It was no longer his hurt vanity that cried out. He told + himself that he could have borne an equal amount of pain, if only it had + left Mrs. Leath’s image untouched; but he could not bear to think of her + as trivial or insincere. The thought was so intolerable that he felt a + blind desire to punish some one else for the pain it caused him. + </p> + <p> + As he sat moodily staring at the carpet its silly intricacies melted into + a blur from which the eyes of Mrs. Leath again looked out at him. He saw + the fine sweep of her brows, and the deep look beneath them as she had + turned from him on their last evening in London. “This will be good-bye, + then,” she had said; and it occurred to him that her parting phrase had + been the same as Sophy Viner’s. + </p> + <p> + At the thought he jumped to his feet and took down from its hook the coat + in which he had left Miss Viner’s letter. The clock marked the third + quarter after midnight, and he knew it would make no difference if he went + down to the post-box now or early the next morning; but he wanted to clear + his conscience, and having found the letter he went to the door. + </p> + <p> + A sound in the next room made him pause. He had become conscious again + that, a few feet off, on the other side of a thin partition, a small keen + flame of life was quivering and agitating the air. Sophy’s face came back + to him insistently. It was as vivid now as Mrs. Leath’s had been a moment + earlier. He recalled with a faint smile of retrospective pleasure the + girl’s enjoyment of her evening, and the innumerable fine feelers of + sensation she had thrown out to its impressions. + </p> + <p> + It gave him a curiously close sense of her presence to think that at that + moment she was living over her enjoyment as intensely as he was living + over his unhappiness. His own case was irremediable, but it was easy + enough to give her a few more hours of pleasure. And did she not perhaps + secretly expect it of him? After all, if she had been very anxious to join + her friends she would have telegraphed them on reaching Paris, instead of + writing. He wondered now that he had not been struck at the moment by so + artless a device to gain more time. The fact of her having practised it + did not make him think less well of her; it merely strengthened the + impulse to use his opportunity. She was starving, poor child, for a little + amusement, a little personal life—why not give her the chance of + another day in Paris? If he did so, should he not be merely falling in + with her own hopes? + </p> + <p> + At the thought his sympathy for her revived. She became of absorbing + interest to him as an escape from himself and an object about which his + thwarted activities could cluster. He felt less drearily alone because of + her being there, on the other side of the door, and in his gratitude to + her for giving him this relief he began, with indolent amusement, to plan + new ways of detaining her. He dropped back into his chair, lit a cigar, + and smiled a little at the image of her smiling face. He tried to imagine + what incident of the day she was likely to be recalling at that particular + moment, and what part he probably played in it. That it was not a small + part he was certain, and the knowledge was undeniably pleasant. + </p> + <p> + Now and then a sound from her room brought before him more vividly the + reality of the situation and the strangeness of the vast swarming solitude + in which he and she were momentarily isolated, amid long lines of rooms + each holding its separate secret. The nearness of all these other + mysteries enclosing theirs gave Darrow a more intimate sense of the girl’s + presence, and through the fumes of his cigar his imagination continued to + follow her to and fro, traced the curve of her slim young arms as she + raised them to undo her hair, pictured the sliding down of her dress to + the waist and then to the knees, and the whiteness of her feet as she + slipped across the floor to bed... + </p> + <p> + He stood up and shook himself with a yawn, throwing away the end of his + cigar. His glance, in following it, lit on the telegram which had dropped + to the floor. The sounds in the next room had ceased, and once more he + felt alone and unhappy. + </p> + <p> + Opening the window, he folded his arms on the sill and looked out on the + vast light-spangled mass of the city, and then up at the dark sky, in + which the morning planet stood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + At the Theatre Français, the next afternoon, Darrow yawned and fidgeted in + his seat. + </p> + <p> + The day was warm, the theatre crowded and airless, and the performance, it + seemed to him, intolerably bad. He stole a glance at his companion, + wondering if she shared his feelings. Her rapt profile betrayed no unrest, + but politeness might have caused her to feign an interest that she did not + feel. He leaned back impatiently, stifling another yawn, and trying to fix + his attention on the stage. Great things were going forward there, and he + was not insensible to the stern beauties of the ancient drama. But the + interpretation of the play seemed to him as airless and lifeless as the + atmosphere of the theatre. The players were the same whom he had often + applauded in those very parts, and perhaps that fact added to the + impression of staleness and conventionality produced by their performance. + Surely it was time to infuse new blood into the veins of the moribund art. + He had the impression that the ghosts of actors were giving a spectral + performance on the shores of Styx. + </p> + <p> + Certainly it was not the most profitable way for a young man with a pretty + companion to pass the golden hours of a spring afternoon. The freshness of + the face at his side, reflecting the freshness of the season, suggested + dapplings of sunlight through new leaves, the sound of a brook in the + grass, the ripple of tree-shadows over breezy meadows... + </p> + <p> + When at length the fateful march of the cothurns was stayed by the single + pause in the play, and Darrow had led Miss Viner out on the balcony + overhanging the square before the theatre, he turned to see if she shared + his feelings. But the rapturous look she gave him checked the depreciation + on his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why did you bring me out here? One ought to creep away and sit in the + dark till it begins again!” + </p> + <p> + “Is <i>that</i> the way they made you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn’t they <i>you?</i>...As if the gods were there all the while, just + behind them, pulling the strings?” Her hands were pressed against the + railing, her face shining and darkening under the wing-beats of successive + impressions. + </p> + <p> + Darrow smiled in enjoyment of her pleasure. After all, he had felt all + that, long ago; perhaps it was his own fault, rather than that of the + actors, that the poetry of the play seemed to have evaporated.... But no, he + had been right in judging the performance to be dull and stale: it was + simply his companion’s inexperience, her lack of occasions to compare and + estimate, that made her think it brilliant. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you were bored and wanted to come away.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>Bored</i>?” She made a little aggrieved grimace. “You mean you thought me too + ignorant and stupid to appreciate it?” + </p> + <p> + “No; not that.” The hand nearest him still lay on the railing of the + balcony, and he covered it for a moment with his. As he did so he saw the + colour rise and tremble in her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me just what you think,” he said, bending his head a little, and + only half-aware of his words. + </p> + <p> + She did not turn her face to his, but began to talk rapidly, trying to + convey something of what she felt. But she was evidently unused to + analyzing her aesthetic emotions, and the tumultuous rush of the drama + seemed to have left her in a state of panting wonder, as though it had + been a storm or some other natural cataclysm. She had no literary or + historic associations to which to attach her impressions: her education + had evidently not comprised a course in Greek literature. But she felt + what would probably have been unperceived by many a young lady who had + taken a first in classics: the ineluctable fatality of the tale, the dread + sway in it of the same mysterious “luck” which pulled the threads of her + own small destiny. It was not literature to her, it was fact: as actual, + as near by, as what was happening to her at the moment and what the next + hour held in store. Seen in this light, the play regained for Darrow its + supreme and poignant reality. He pierced to the heart of its significance + through all the artificial accretions with which his theories of art and + the conventions of the stage had clothed it, and saw it as he had never + seen it: as life. + </p> + <p> + After this there could be no question of flight, and he took her back to + the theatre, content to receive his own sensations through the medium of + hers. But with the continuation of the play, and the oppression of the + heavy air, his attention again began to wander, straying back over the + incidents of the morning. + </p> + <p> + He had been with Sophy Viner all day, and he was surprised to find how + quickly the time had gone. She had hardly attempted, as the hours passed, + to conceal her satisfaction on finding that no telegram came from the + Farlows. “They’ll have written,” she had simply said; and her mind had at + once flown on to the golden prospect of an afternoon at the theatre. The + intervening hours had been disposed of in a stroll through the lively + streets, and a repast, luxuriously lingered over, under the + chestnut-boughs of a restaurant in the Champs Elysees. Everything + entertained and interested her, and Darrow remarked, with an amused + detachment, that she was not insensible to the impression her charms + produced. Yet there was no hard edge of vanity in her sense of her + prettiness: she seemed simply to be aware of it as a note in the general + harmony, and to enjoy sounding the note as a singer enjoys singing. + </p> + <p> + After luncheon, as they sat over their coffee, she had again asked an + immense number of questions and delivered herself of a remarkable variety + of opinions. Her questions testified to a wholesome and comprehensive + human curiosity, and her comments showed, like her face and her whole + attitude, an odd mingling of precocious wisdom and disarming ignorance. + When she talked to him about “life”—the word was often on her lips—she + seemed to him like a child playing with a tiger’s cub; and he said to + himself that some day the child would grow up—and so would the + tiger. Meanwhile, such expertness qualified by such candour made it + impossible to guess the extent of her personal experience, or to estimate + its effect on her character. She might be any one of a dozen definable + types, or she might—more disconcertingly to her companion and more + perilously to herself—be a shifting and uncrystallized mixture of + them all. + </p> + <p> + Her talk, as usual, had promptly reverted to the stage. She was eager to + learn about every form of dramatic expression which the metropolis of + things theatrical had to offer, and her curiosity ranged from the official + temples of the art to its less hallowed haunts. Her searching enquiries + about a play whose production, on one of the latter scenes, had provoked a + considerable amount of scandal, led Darrow to throw out laughingly: “To + see <i>that</i> you’ll have to wait till you’re married!” and his answer had sent + her off at a tangent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I never mean to marry,” she had rejoined in a tone of youthful + finality. + </p> + <p> + “I seem to have heard that before!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; from girls who’ve only got to choose!” Her eyes had grown suddenly + almost old. “I’d like you to see the only men who’ve ever wanted to marry + me! One was the doctor on the steamer, when I came abroad with the Hokes: + he’d been cashiered from the navy for drunkenness. The other was a deaf + widower with three grown-up daughters, who kept a clock-shop in Bayswater!—Besides,” + she rambled on, “I’m not so sure that I believe in marriage. You see I’m + all for self-development and the chance to live one’s life. I’m awfully + modern, you know.” + </p> + <p> + It was just when she proclaimed herself most awfully modern that she + struck him as most helplessly backward; yet the moment after, without any + bravado, or apparent desire to assume an attitude, she would propound some + social axiom which could have been gathered only in the bitter soil of + experience. + </p> + <p> + All these things came back to him as he sat beside her in the theatre and + watched her ingenuous absorption. It was on “the story” that her mind was + fixed, and in life also, he suspected, it would always be “the story”, + rather than its remoter imaginative issues, that would hold her. He did + not believe there were ever any echoes in her soul... + </p> + <p> + There was no question, however, that what she felt was felt with + intensity: to the actual, the immediate, she spread vibrating strings. + When the play was over, and they came out once more into the sunlight, + Darrow looked down at her with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She made no answer. Her dark gaze seemed to rest on him without seeing + him. Her cheeks and lips were pale, and the loose hair under her hat-brim + clung to her forehead in damp rings. She looked like a young priestess + still dazed by the fumes of the cavern. + </p> + <p> + “You poor child—it’s been almost too much for you!” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head with a vague smile. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” he went on, putting his hand on her arm, “let’s jump into a taxi + and get some air and sunshine. Look, there are hours of daylight left; and + see what a night it’s going to be!” + </p> + <p> + He pointed over their heads, to where a white moon hung in the misty blue + above the roofs of the rue de Rivoli. + </p> + <p> + She made no answer, and he signed to a motor-cab, calling out to the + driver: “To the Bois!” + </p> + <p> + As the carriage turned toward the Tuileries she roused herself. “I must go + first to the hotel. There may be a message—at any rate I must decide + on something.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow saw that the reality of the situation had suddenly forced itself + upon her. “I <i>must</i> decide on something,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + He would have liked to postpone the return, to persuade her to drive + directly to the Bois for dinner. It would have been easy enough to remind + her that she could not start for Joigny that evening, and that therefore + it was of no moment whether she received the Farlows’ answer then or a few + hours later; but for some reason he hesitated to use this argument, which + had come so naturally to him the day before. After all, he knew she would + find nothing at the hotel—so what did it matter if they went there? + </p> + <p> + The porter, interrogated, was not sure. He himself had received nothing + for the lady, but in his absence his subordinate might have sent a letter + upstairs. + </p> + <p> + Darrow and Sophy mounted together in the lift, and the young man, while + she went into her room, unlocked his own door and glanced at the empty + table. For him at least no message had come; and on her threshold, a + moment later, she met him with the expected: “No—there’s nothing!” + </p> + <p> + He feigned an unregretful surprise. “So much the better! And now, shall we + drive out somewhere? Or would you rather take a boat to Bellevue? Have you + ever dined there, on the terrace, by moonlight? It’s not at all bad. And + there’s no earthly use in sitting here waiting.” + </p> + <p> + She stood before him in perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “But when I wrote yesterday I asked them to telegraph. I suppose they’re + horribly hard up, the poor dears, and they thought a letter would do as + well as a telegram.” The colour had risen to her face. “That’s why I wrote + instead of telegraphing; I haven’t a penny to spare myself!” + </p> + <p> + Nothing she could have said could have filled her listener with a deeper + contrition. He felt the red in his own face as he recalled the motive with + which he had credited her in his midnight musings. But that motive, after + all, had simply been trumped up to justify his own disloyalty: he had + never really believed in it. The reflection deepened his confusion, and he + would have liked to take her hand in his and confess the injustice he had + done her. + </p> + <p> + She may have interpreted his change of colour as an involuntary protest at + being initiated into such shabby details, for she went on with a laugh: “I + suppose you can hardly understand what it means to have to stop and think + whether one can afford a telegram? But I’ve always had to consider such + things. And I mustn’t stay here any longer now—I must try to get a + night train for Joigny. Even if the Farlows can’t take me in, I can go to + the hotel: it will cost less than staying here.” She paused again and then + exclaimed: “I ought to have thought of that sooner; I ought to have + telegraphed yesterday! But I was sure I should hear from them today; and I + wanted—oh, I <i>did</i> so awfully want to stay!” She threw a troubled look + at Darrow. “Do you happen to remember,” she asked, “what time it was when + you posted my letter?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII + </h2> + <p> + Darrow was still standing on her threshold. As she put the question he + entered the room and closed the door behind him. + </p> + <p> + His heart was beating a little faster than usual and he had no clear idea + of what he was about to do or say, beyond the definite conviction that, + whatever passing impulse of expiation moved him, he would not be fool + enough to tell her that he had not sent her letter. He knew that most + wrongdoing works, on the whole, less mischief than its useless confession; + and this was clearly a case where a passing folly might be turned, by + avowal, into a serious offense. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry—so sorry; but you must let me help you.... You will let + me help you?” he said. + </p> + <p> + He took her hands and pressed them together between his, counting on a + friendly touch to help out the insufficiency of words. He felt her yield + slightly to his clasp, and hurried on without giving her time to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it a pity to spoil our good time together by regretting anything + you might have done to prevent our having it?” + </p> + <p> + She drew back, freeing her hands. Her face, losing its look of appealing + confidence, was suddenly sharpened by distrust. + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t forget to post my letter?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow stood before her, constrained and ashamed, and ever more keenly + aware that the betrayal of his distress must be a greater offense than its + concealment. + </p> + <p> + “What an insinuation!” he cried, throwing out his hands with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + Her face instantly melted to laughter. “Well, then—I <i>won’t</i> be sorry; + I won’t regret anything except that our good time is over!” + </p> + <p> + The words were so unexpected that they routed all his resolves. If she had + gone on doubting him he could probably have gone on deceiving her; but her + unhesitating acceptance of his word made him hate the part he was playing. + At the same moment a doubt shot up its serpent-head in his own bosom. Was + it not he rather than she who was childishly trustful? Was she not almost + too ready to take his word, and dismiss once for all the tiresome question + of the letter? Considering what her experiences must have been, such + trustfulness seemed open to suspicion. But the moment his eyes fell on her + he was ashamed of the thought, and knew it for what it really was: another + pretext to lessen his own delinquency. + </p> + <p> + “Why should our good time be over?” he asked. “Why shouldn’t it last a + little longer?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up, her lips parted in surprise; but before she could speak he + went on: “I want you to stay with me—I want you, just for a few + days, to have all the things you’ve never had. It’s not always May and + Paris—why not make the most of them now? You know me—we’re not + strangers—why shouldn’t you treat me like a friend?” + </p> + <p> + While he spoke she had drawn away a little, but her hand still lay in his. + She was pale, and her eyes were fixed on him in a gaze in which there was + neither distrust or resentment, but only an ingenuous wonder. He was + extraordinarily touched by her expression. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do! You must. Listen: to prove that I’m sincere I’ll tell you.... I’ll + tell you I didn’t post your letter.... I didn’t post it because I wanted so + much to give you a few good hours ... and because I couldn’t bear to have + you go.” + </p> + <p> + He had the feeling that the words were being uttered in spite of him by + some malicious witness of the scene, and yet that he was not sorry to have + them spoken. + </p> + <p> + The girl had listened to him in silence. She remained motionless for a + moment after he had ceased to speak; then she snatched away her hand. + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t post my letter? You kept it back on purpose? And you tell me + so <i>now</i>, to prove to me that I’d better put myself under your protection?” + She burst into a laugh that had in it all the piercing echoes of her + Murrett past, and her face, at the same moment, underwent the same change, + shrinking into a small malevolent white mask in which the eyes burned + black. “Thank you—thank you most awfully for telling me! And for all + your other kind intentions! The plan’s delightful—really quite + delightful, and I’m extremely flattered and obliged.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped into a seat beside her dressing-table, resting her chin on her + lifted hands, and laughing out at him under the elf-lock which had shaken + itself down over her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Her outburst did not offend the young man; its immediate effect was that + of allaying his agitation. The theatrical touch in her manner made his + offense seem more venial than he had thought it a moment before. + </p> + <p> + He drew up a chair and sat down beside her. “After all,” he said, in a + tone of good-humoured protest, “I needn’t have told you I’d kept back your + letter; and my telling you seems rather strong proof that I hadn’t any + very nefarious designs on you.” + </p> + <p> + She met this with a shrug, but he did not give her time to answer. “My + designs,” he continued with a smile, “were not nefarious. I saw you’d been + through a bad time with Mrs. Murrett, and that there didn’t seem to be + much fun ahead for you; and I didn’t see—and I don’t yet see—the + harm of trying to give you a few hours of amusement between a depressing + past and a not particularly cheerful future.” He paused again, and then + went on, in the same tone of friendly reasonableness: “The mistake I made + was not to tell you this at once—not to ask you straight out to give + me a day or two, and let me try to make you forget all the things that are + troubling you. I was a fool not to see that if I’d put it to you in that + way you’d have accepted or refused, as you chose; but that at least you + wouldn’t have mistaken my intentions.—Intentions!” He stood up, + walked the length of the room, and turned back to where she still sat + motionless, her elbows propped on the dressing-table, her chin on her + hands. “What rubbish we talk about intentions! The truth is I hadn’t any: + I just liked being with you. Perhaps you don’t know how extraordinarily + one can like being with you.... I was depressed and adrift myself; and you + made me forget my bothers; and when I found you were going—and going + back to dreariness, as I was—I didn’t see why we shouldn’t have a + few hours together first; so I left your letter in my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + He saw her face melt as she listened, and suddenly she unclasped her hands + and leaned to him. + </p> + <p> + “But are <i>you</i> unhappy too? Oh, I never understood—I never dreamed it! + I thought you’d always had everything in the world you wanted!” + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke into a laugh at this ingenuous picture of his state. He was + ashamed of trying to better his case by an appeal to her pity, and annoyed + with himself for alluding to a subject he would rather have kept out of + his thoughts. But her look of sympathy had disarmed him; his heart was + bitter and distracted; she was near him, her eyes were shining with + compassion—he bent over her and kissed her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me—do forgive me,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She stood up with a smiling head-shake. “Oh, it’s not so often that people + try to give me any pleasure—much less two whole days of it! I + sha’n’t forget how kind you’ve been. I shall have plenty of time to + remember. But this <i>is</i> good-bye, you know. I must telegraph at once to say + I’m coming.” + </p> + <p> + “To say you’re coming? Then I’m not forgiven?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’re forgiven—if that’s any comfort.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not, the very least, if your way of proving it is to go away!” + </p> + <p> + She hung her head in meditation. “But I can’t stay.—How <i>can</i> I stay?” + she broke out, as if arguing with some unseen monitor. + </p> + <p> + “Why can’t you? No one knows you’re here.... No one need ever know.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up, and their eyes exchanged meanings for a rapid minute. Her + gaze was as clear as a boy’s. “Oh, it’s not <i>that</i>,” she exclaimed, almost + impatiently; “it’s not people I’m afraid of! They’ve never put themselves + out for me—why on earth should I care about them?” + </p> + <p> + He liked her directness as he had never liked it before. “Well, then, what + is it? Not <i>me</i>, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not you: I like you. It’s the money! With me that’s always the root + of the matter. I could never yet afford a treat in my life!” + </p> + <p> + “Is <i>that</i> all?” He laughed, relieved by her naturalness. “Look here; + since we’re talking as man to man—can’t you trust me about that + too?” + </p> + <p> + “Trust you? How do you mean? You’d better not trust <i>me</i>!” she laughed back + sharply. “I might never be able to pay up!” + </p> + <p> + His gesture brushed aside the allusion. “Money may be the root of the + matter; it can’t be the whole of it, between friends. Don’t you think one + friend may accept a small service from another without looking too far + ahead or weighing too many chances? The question turns entirely on what + you think of me. If you like me well enough to be willing to take a few + days’ holiday with me, just for the pleasure of the thing, and the + pleasure you’ll be giving me, let’s shake hands on it. If you don’t like + me well enough we’ll shake hands too; only I shall be sorry,” he ended. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I shall be sorry too!” Her face, as she lifted it to his, looked + so small and young that Darrow felt a fugitive twinge of compunction, + instantly effaced by the excitement of pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then?” He stood looking down on her, his eyes persuading her. He + was now intensely aware that his nearness was having an effect which made + it less and less necessary for him to choose his words, and he went on, + more mindful of the inflections of his voice than of what he was actually + saying: “Why on earth should we say good-bye if we’re both sorry to? Won’t + you tell me your reason? It’s not a bit like you to let anything stand in + the way of your saying just what you feel. You mustn’t mind offending me, + you know!” + </p> + <p> + She hung before him like a leaf on the meeting of cross-currents, that the + next ripple may sweep forward or whirl back. Then she flung up her head + with the odd boyish movement habitual to her in moments of excitement. + “What I feel? Do you want to know what I feel? That you’re giving me the + only chance I’ve ever had!” + </p> + <p> + She turned about on her heel and, dropping into the nearest chair, sank + forward, her face hidden against the dressing-table. + </p> + <p> + Under the folds of her thin summer dress the modelling of her back and of + her lifted arms, and the slight hollow between her shoulder-blades, + recalled the faint curves of a terra-cotta statuette, some young image of + grace hardly more than sketched in the clay. Darrow, as he stood looking + at her, reflected that her character, for all its seeming firmness, its + flashing edges of “opinion”, was probably no less immature. He had not + expected her to yield so suddenly to his suggestion, or to confess her + yielding in that way. At first he was slightly disconcerted; then he saw + how her attitude simplified his own. Her behaviour had all the indecision + and awkwardness of inexperience. It showed that she was a child after all; + and all he could do—all he had ever meant to do—was to give + her a child’s holiday to look back to. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he fancied she was crying; but the next she was on her feet + and had swept round on him a face she must have turned away only to hide + the first rush of her pleasure. + </p> + <p> + For a while they shone on each other without speaking; then she sprang to + him and held out both hands. + </p> + <p> + “Is it true? Is it really true? Is it really going to happen to <i>me</i>?” + </p> + <p> + He felt like answering: “You’re the very creature to whom it was bound to + happen”; but the words had a double sense that made him wince, and instead + he caught her proffered hands and stood looking at her across the length + of her arms, without attempting to bend them or to draw her closer. He + wanted her to know how her words had moved him; but his thoughts were + blurred by the rush of the same emotion that possessed her, and his own + words came with an effort. + </p> + <p> + He ended by giving her back a laugh as frank as her own, and declaring, as + he dropped her hands: “All that and more too—you’ll see!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII + </h2> + <p> + All day, since the late reluctant dawn, the rain had come down in + torrents. It streamed against Darrow’s high-perched windows, reduced their + vast prospect of roofs and chimneys to a black oily huddle, and filled the + room with the drab twilight of an underground aquarium. + </p> + <p> + The streams descended with the regularity of a third day’s rain, when + trimming and shuffling are over, and the weather has settled down to do + its worst. There were no variations of rhythm, no lyrical ups and downs: + the grey lines streaking the panes were as dense and uniform as a page of + unparagraphed narrative. + </p> + <p> + George Darrow had drawn his armchair to the fire. The time-table he had + been studying lay on the floor, and he sat staring with dull acquiescence + into the boundless blur of rain, which affected him like a vast projection + of his own state of mind. Then his eyes travelled slowly about the room. + </p> + <p> + It was exactly ten days since his hurried unpacking had strewn it with the + contents of his portmanteaux. His brushes and razors were spread out on + the blotched marble of the chest of drawers. A stack of newspapers had + accumulated on the centre table under the “electrolier”, and half a dozen + paper novels lay on the mantelpiece among cigar-cases and toilet bottles; + but these traces of his passage had made no mark on the featureless + dulness of the room, its look of being the makeshift setting of + innumerable transient collocations. There was something sardonic, almost + sinister, in its appearance of having deliberately “made up” for its + anonymous part, all in noncommittal drabs and browns, with a carpet and + paper that nobody would remember, and chairs and tables as impersonal as + railway porters. + </p> + <p> + Darrow picked up the time-table and tossed it on to the table. Then he + rose to his feet, lit a cigar and went to the window. Through the rain he + could just discover the face of a clock in a tall building beyond the + railway roofs. He pulled out his watch, compared the two time-pieces, and + started the hands of his with such a rush that they flew past the hour and + he had to make them repeat the circuit more deliberately. He felt a quite + disproportionate irritation at the trifling blunder. When he had corrected + it he went back to his chair and threw himself down, leaning back his head + against his hands. Presently his cigar went out, and he got up, hunted for + the matches, lit it again and returned to his seat. + </p> + <p> + The room was getting on his nerves. During the first few days, while the + skies were clear, he had not noticed it, or had felt for it only the + contemptuous indifference of the traveller toward a provisional shelter. + But now that he was leaving it, was looking at it for the last time, it + seemed to have taken complete possession of his mind, to be soaking itself + into him like an ugly indelible blot. Every detail pressed itself on his + notice with the familiarity of an accidental confidant: whichever way he + turned, he felt the nudge of a transient intimacy... + </p> + <p> + The one fixed point in his immediate future was that his leave was over + and that he must be back at his post in London the next morning. Within + twenty-four hours he would again be in a daylight world of recognized + activities, himself a busy, responsible, relatively necessary factor in + the big whirring social and official machine. That fixed obligation was + the fact he could think of with the least discomfort, yet for some + unaccountable reason it was the one on which he found it most difficult to + fix his thoughts. Whenever he did so, the room jerked him back into the + circle of its insistent associations. It was extraordinary with what a + microscopic minuteness of loathing he hated it all: the grimy carpet and + wallpaper, the black marble mantel-piece, the clock with a gilt allegory + under a dusty bell, the high-bolstered brown-counterpaned bed, the framed + card of printed rules under the electric light switch, and the door of + communication with the next room. He hated the door most of all... + </p> + <p> + At the outset, he had felt no special sense of responsibility. He was + satisfied that he had struck the right note, and convinced of his power of + sustaining it. The whole incident had somehow seemed, in spite of its + vulgar setting and its inevitable prosaic propinquities, to be enacting + itself in some unmapped region outside the pale of the usual. It was not + like anything that had ever happened to him before, or in which he had + ever pictured himself as likely to be involved; but that, at first, had + seemed no argument against his fitness to deal with it. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps but for the three days’ rain he might have got away without a + doubt as to his adequacy. The rain had made all the difference. It had + thrown the whole picture out of perspective, blotted out the mystery of + the remoter planes and the enchantment of the middle distance, and thrust + into prominence every commonplace fact of the foreground. It was the kind + of situation that was not helped by being thought over; and by the + perversity of circumstance he had been forced into the unwilling + contemplation of its every aspect... + </p> + <p> + His cigar had gone out again, and he threw it into the fire and vaguely + meditated getting up to find another. But the mere act of leaving his + chair seemed to call for a greater exertion of the will than he was + capable of, and he leaned his head back with closed eyes and listened to + the drumming of the rain. + </p> + <p> + A different noise aroused him. It was the opening and closing of the door + leading from the corridor into the adjoining room. He sat motionless, + without opening his eyes; but now another sight forced itself under his + lowered lids. It was the precise photographic picture of that other room. + Everything in it rose before him and pressed itself upon his vision with + the same acuity of distinctness as the objects surrounding him. A step + sounded on the floor, and he knew which way the step was directed, what + pieces of furniture it had to skirt, where it would probably pause, and + what was likely to arrest it. He heard another sound, and recognized it as + that of a wet umbrella placed in the black marble jamb of the + chimney-piece, against the hearth. He caught the creak of a hinge, and + instantly differentiated it as that of the wardrobe against the opposite + wall. Then he heard the mouse-like squeal of a reluctant drawer, and knew + it was the upper one in the chest of drawers beside the bed: the clatter + which followed was caused by the mahogany toilet-glass jumping on its + loosened pivots... + </p> + <p> + The step crossed the floor again. It was strange how much better he knew + it than the person to whom it belonged! Now it was drawing near the door + of communication between the two rooms. He opened his eyes and looked. The + step had ceased and for a moment there was silence. Then he heard a low + knock. He made no response, and after an interval he saw that the door + handle was being tentatively turned. He closed his eyes once more... + </p> + <p> + The door opened, and the step was in the room, coming cautiously toward + him. He kept his eyes shut, relaxing his body to feign sleep. There was + another pause, then a wavering soft advance, the rustle of a dress behind + his chair, the warmth of two hands pressed for a moment on his lids. The + palms of the hands had the lingering scent of some stuff that he had + bought on the Boulevard.... He looked up and saw a letter falling over his + shoulder to his knee... + </p> + <p> + “Did I disturb you? I’m so sorry! They gave me this just now when I came + in.” + </p> + <p> + The letter, before he could catch it, had slipped between his knees to the + floor. It lay there, address upward, at his feet, and while he sat staring + down at the strong slender characters on the blue-gray envelope an arm + reached out from behind to pick it up. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t—DON’T” broke from him, and he bent over and caught the + arm. The face above it was close to his. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t what?” + </p> + <p> + ——“take the trouble,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + He dropped the arm and stooped down. His grasp closed over the letter, he + fingered its thickness and weight and calculated the number of sheets it + must contain. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he felt the pressure of the hand on his shoulder, and became + aware that the face was still leaning over him, and that in a moment he + would have to look up and kiss it... + </p> + <p> + He bent forward first and threw the unopened letter into the middle of the + fire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX + </h2> + <p> + The light of the October afternoon lay on an old high-roofed house which + enclosed in its long expanse of brick and yellowish stone the breadth of a + grassy court filled with the shadow and sound of limes. + </p> + <p> + From the escutcheoned piers at the entrance of the court a level drive, + also shaded by limes, extended to a white-barred gate beyond which an + equally level avenue of grass, cut through a wood, dwindled to a + blue-green blur against a sky banked with still white slopes of cloud. + </p> + <p> + In the court, half-way between house and drive, a lady stood. She held a + parasol above her head, and looked now at the house-front, with its double + flight of steps meeting before a glazed door under sculptured trophies, + now down the drive toward the grassy cutting through the wood. Her air was + less of expectancy than of contemplation: she seemed not so much to be + watching for any one, or listening for an approaching sound, as letting + the whole aspect of the place sink into her while she held herself open to + its influence. Yet it was no less apparent that the scene was not new to + her. There was no eagerness of investigation in her survey: she seemed + rather to be looking about her with eyes to which, for some intimate + inward reason, details long since familiar had suddenly acquired an + unwonted freshness. + </p> + <p> + This was in fact the exact sensation of which Mrs. Leath was conscious as + she came forth from the house and descended into the sunlit court. She had + come to meet her step-son, who was likely to be returning at that hour + from an afternoon’s shooting in one of the more distant plantations, and + she carried in her hand the letter which had sent her in search of him; + but with her first step out of the house all thought of him had been + effaced by another series of impressions. + </p> + <p> + The scene about her was known to satiety. She had seen Givre at all + seasons of the year, and for the greater part of every year, since the + far-off day of her marriage; the day when, ostensibly driving through its + gates at her husband’s side, she had actually been carried there on a + cloud of iris-winged visions. + </p> + <p> + The possibilities which the place had then represented were still vividly + present to her. The mere phrase “a French chateau” had called up to her + youthful fancy a throng of romantic associations, poetic, pictorial and + emotional; and the serene face of the old house seated in its park among + the poplar-bordered meadows of middle France, had seemed, on her first + sight of it, to hold out to her a fate as noble and dignified as its own + mien. + </p> + <p> + Though she could still call up that phase of feeling it had long since + passed, and the house had for a time become to her the very symbol of + narrowness and monotony. Then, with the passing of years, it had gradually + acquired a less inimical character, had become, not again a castle of + dreams, evoker of fair images and romantic legend, but the shell of a life + slowly adjusted to its dwelling: the place one came back to, the place + where one had one’s duties, one’s habits and one’s books, the place one + would naturally live in till one died: a dull house, an inconvenient + house, of which one knew all the defects, the shabbinesses, the + discomforts, but to which one was so used that one could hardly, after so + long a time, think one’s self away from it without suffering a certain + loss of identity. + </p> + <p> + Now, as it lay before her in the autumn mildness, its mistress was + surprised at her own insensibility. She had been trying to see the house + through the eyes of an old friend who, the next morning, would be driving + up to it for the first time; and in so doing she seemed to be opening her + own eyes upon it after a long interval of blindness. + </p> + <p> + The court was very still, yet full of a latent life: the wheeling and + rustling of pigeons about the rectangular yews and across the sunny + gravel; the sweep of rooks above the lustrous greyish-purple slates of the + roof, and the stir of the tree-tops as they met the breeze which every + day, at that hour, came punctually up from the river. + </p> + <p> + Just such a latent animation glowed in Anna Leath. In every nerve and vein + she was conscious of that equipoise of bliss which the fearful human heart + scarce dares acknowledge. She was not used to strong or full emotions; but + she had always known that she should not be afraid of them. She was not + afraid now; but she felt a deep inward stillness. + </p> + <p> + The immediate effect of the feeling had been to send her forth in quest of + her step-son. She wanted to stroll back with him and have a quiet talk + before they re-entered the house. It was always easy to talk to him, and + at this moment he was the one person to whom she could have spoken without + fear of disturbing her inner stillness. She was glad, for all sorts of + reasons, that Madame de Chantelle and Effie were still at Ouchy with the + governess, and that she and Owen had the house to themselves. And she was + glad that even he was not yet in sight. She wanted to be alone a little + longer; not to think, but to let the long slow waves of joy break over her + one by one. + </p> + <p> + She walked out of the court and sat down on one of the benches that + bordered the drive. From her seat she had a diagonal view of the long + house-front and of the domed chapel terminating one of the wings. Beyond a + gate in the court-yard wall the flower-garden drew its dark-green squares + and raised its statues against the yellowing background of the park. In + the borders only a few late pinks and crimsons smouldered, but a peacock + strutting in the sun seemed to have gathered into his out-spread fan all + the summer glories of the place. + </p> + <p> + In Mrs. Leath’s hand was the letter which had opened her eyes to these + things, and a smile rose to her lips at the mere feeling of the paper + between her fingers. The thrill it sent through her gave a keener edge to + every sense. She felt, saw, breathed the shining world as though a thin + impenetrable veil had suddenly been removed from it. + </p> + <p> + Just such a veil, she now perceived, had always hung between herself and + life. It had been like the stage gauze which gives an illusive air of + reality to the painted scene behind it, yet proves it, after all, to be no + more than a painted scene. + </p> + <p> + She had been hardly aware, in her girlhood, of differing from others in + this respect. In the well-regulated well-fed Summers world the unusual was + regarded as either immoral or ill-bred, and people with emotions were not + visited. Sometimes, with a sense of groping in a topsy-turvy universe, + Anna had wondered why everybody about her seemed to ignore all the + passions and sensations which formed the stuff of great poetry and + memorable action. In a community composed entirely of people like her + parents and her parents’ friends she did not see how the magnificent + things one read about could ever have happened. She was sure that if + anything of the kind had occurred in her immediate circle her mother would + have consulted the family clergyman, and her father perhaps even have rung + up the police; and her sense of humour compelled her to own that, in the + given conditions, these precautions might not have been unjustified. + </p> + <p> + Little by little the conditions conquered her, and she learned to regard + the substance of life as a mere canvas for the embroideries of poet and + painter, and its little swept and fenced and tended surface as its actual + substance. It was in the visioned region of action and emotion that her + fullest hours were spent; but it hardly occurred to her that they might be + translated into experience, or connected with anything likely to happen to + a young lady living in West Fifty-fifth Street. + </p> + <p> + She perceived, indeed, that other girls, leading outwardly the same life + as herself, and seemingly unaware of her world of hidden beauty, were yet + possessed of some vital secret which escaped her. There seemed to be a + kind of freemasonry between them; they were wider awake than she, more + alert, and surer of their wants if not of their opinions. She supposed + they were “cleverer”, and accepted her inferiority good-humouredly, half + aware, within herself, of a reserve of unused power which the others gave + no sign of possessing. + </p> + <p> + This partly consoled her for missing so much of what made their “good + time”; but the resulting sense of exclusion, of being somehow laughingly + but firmly debarred from a share of their privileges, threw her back on + herself and deepened the reserve which made envious mothers cite her as a + model of ladylike repression. Love, she told herself, would one day + release her from this spell of unreality. She was persuaded that the + sublime passion was the key to the enigma; but it was difficult to relate + her conception of love to the forms it wore in her experience. Two or + three of the girls she had envied for their superior acquaintance with the + arts of life had contracted, in the course of time, what were variously + described as “romantic” or “foolish” marriages; one even made a runaway + match, and languished for a while under a cloud of social reprobation. + Here, then, was passion in action, romance converted to reality; yet the + heroines of these exploits returned from them untransfigured, and their + husbands were as dull as ever when one had to sit next to them at dinner. + </p> + <p> + Her own case, of course, would be different. Some day she would find the + magic bridge between West Fifty-fifth Street and life; once or twice she + had even fancied that the clue was in her hand. The first time was when + she had met young Darrow. She recalled even now the stir of the encounter. + But his passion swept over her like a wind that shakes the roof of the + forest without reaching its still glades or rippling its hidden pools. He + was extraordinarily intelligent and agreeable, and her heart beat faster + when he was with her. He had a tall fair easy presence and a mind in which + the lights of irony played pleasantly through the shades of feeling. She + liked to hear his voice almost as much as to listen to what he was saying, + and to listen to what he was saying almost as much as to feel that he was + looking at her; but he wanted to kiss her, and she wanted to talk to him + about books and pictures, and have him insinuate the eternal theme of + their love into every subject they discussed. + </p> + <p> + Whenever they were apart a reaction set in. She wondered how she could + have been so cold, called herself a prude and an idiot, questioned if any + man could really care for her, and got up in the dead of night to try new + ways of doing her hair. But as soon as he reappeared her head straightened + itself on her slim neck and she sped her little shafts of irony, or flew + her little kites of erudition, while hot and cold waves swept over her, + and the things she really wanted to say choked in her throat and burned + the palms of her hands. + </p> + <p> + Often she told herself that any silly girl who had waltzed through a + season would know better than she how to attract a man and hold him; but + when she said “a man” she did not really mean George Darrow. + </p> + <p> + Then one day, at a dinner, she saw him sitting next to one of the silly + girls in question: the heroine of the elopement which had shaken West + Fifty-fifth Street to its base. The young lady had come back from her + adventure no less silly than when she went; and across the table the + partner of her flight, a fat young man with eye-glasses, sat stolidly + eating terrapin and talking about polo and investments. + </p> + <p> + The young woman was undoubtedly as silly as ever; yet after watching her + for a few minutes Miss Summers perceived that she had somehow grown + luminous, perilous, obscurely menacing to nice girls and the young men + they intended eventually to accept. Suddenly, at the sight, a rage of + possessorship awoke in her. She must save Darrow, assert her right to him + at any price. Pride and reticence went down in a hurricane of jealousy. + She heard him laugh, and there was something new in his laugh.... She + watched him talking, talking.... He sat slightly sideways, a faint smile + beneath his lids, lowering his voice as he lowered it when he talked to + her. She caught the same inflections, but his eyes were different. It + would have offended her once if he had looked at her like that. Now her + one thought was that none but she had a right to be so looked at. And that + girl of all others! What illusions could he have about a girl who, hardly + a year ago, had made a fool of herself over the fat young man stolidly + eating terrapin across the table? If that was where romance and passion + ended, it was better to take to district visiting or algebra! + </p> + <p> + All night she lay awake and wondered: “What was she saying to him? How + shall I learn to say such things?” and she decided that her heart would + tell her—that the next time they were alone together the + irresistible word would spring to her lips. He came the next day, and they + were alone, and all she found was: “I didn’t know that you and Kitty Mayne + were such friends.” + </p> + <p> + He answered with indifference that he didn’t know it either, and in the + reaction of relief she declared: “She’s certainly ever so much prettier + than she was...” + </p> + <p> + “She’s rather good fun,” he admitted, as though he had not noticed her + other advantages; and suddenly Anna saw in his eyes the look she had seen + there the previous evening. + </p> + <p> + She felt as if he were leagues and leagues away from her. All her hopes + dissolved, and she was conscious of sitting rigidly, with high head and + straight lips, while the irresistible word fled with a last wing-beat into + the golden mist of her illusions... + </p> + <p> + She was still quivering with the pain and bewilderment of this adventure + when Fraser Leath appeared. She met him first in Italy, where she was + travelling with her parents; and the following winter he came to New York. + In Italy he had seemed interesting: in New York he became remarkable. He + seldom spoke of his life in Europe, and let drop but the most incidental + allusions to the friends, the tastes, the pursuits which filled his + cosmopolitan days; but in the atmosphere of West Fifty-fifth Street he + seemed the embodiment of a storied past. He presented Miss Summers with a + prettily-bound anthology of the old French poets and, when she showed a + discriminating pleasure in the gift, observed with his grave smile: “I + didn’t suppose I should find any one here who would feel about these + things as I do.” On another occasion he asked her acceptance of a + half-effaced eighteenth century pastel which he had surprisingly picked up + in a New York auction-room. “I know no one but you who would really + appreciate it,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + He permitted himself no other comments, but these conveyed with sufficient + directness that he thought her worthy of a different setting. That she + should be so regarded by a man living in an atmosphere of art and beauty, + and esteeming them the vital elements of life, made her feel for the first + time that she was understood. Here was some one whose scale of values was + the same as hers, and who thought her opinion worth hearing on the very + matters which they both considered of supreme importance. The discovery + restored her self-confidence, and she revealed herself to Mr. Leath as she + had never known how to reveal herself to Darrow. + </p> + <p> + As the courtship progressed, and they grew more confidential, her suitor + surprised and delighted her by little explosions of revolutionary + sentiment. He said: “Shall you mind, I wonder, if I tell you that you live + in a dread-fully conventional atmosphere?” and, seeing that she manifestly + did not mind: “Of course I shall say things now and then that will horrify + your dear delightful parents—I shall shock them awfully, I warn + you.” + </p> + <p> + In confirmation of this warning he permitted himself an occasional playful + fling at the regular church-going of Mr. and Mrs. Summers, at the + innocuous character of the literature in their library, and at their + guileless appreciations in art. He even ventured to banter Mrs. Summers on + her refusal to receive the irrepressible Kitty Mayne who, after a rapid + passage with George Darrow, was now involved in another and more flagrant + adventure. + </p> + <p> + “In Europe, you know, the husband is regarded as the only judge in such + matters. As long as he accepts the situation—” Mr. Leath explained + to Anna, who took his view the more emphatically in order to convince + herself that, personally, she had none but the most tolerant sentiments + toward the lady. + </p> + <p> + The subversiveness of Mr. Leath’s opinions was enhanced by the distinction + of his appearance and the reserve of his manners. He was like the + anarchist with a gardenia in his buttonhole who figures in the higher + melodrama. Every word, every allusion, every note of his + agreeably-modulated voice, gave Anna a glimpse of a society at once freer + and finer, which observed the traditional forms but had discarded the + underlying prejudices; whereas the world she knew had discarded many of + the forms and kept almost all the prejudices. + </p> + <p> + In such an atmosphere as his an eager young woman, curious as to all the + manifestations of life, yet instinctively desiring that they should come + to her in terms of beauty and fine feeling, must surely find the largest + scope for self-expression. Study, travel, the contact of the world, the + comradeship of a polished and enlightened mind, would combine to enrich + her days and form her character; and it was only in the rare moments when + Mr. Leath’s symmetrical blond mask bent over hers, and his kiss dropped on + her like a cold smooth pebble, that she questioned the completeness of the + joys he offered. + </p> + <p> + There had been a time when the walls on which her gaze now rested had shed + a glare of irony on these early dreams. In the first years of her marriage + the sober symmetry of Givre had suggested only her husband’s + neatly-balanced mind. It was a mind, she soon learned, contentedly + absorbed in formulating the conventions of the unconventional. West + Fifty-fifth Street was no more conscientiously concerned than Givre with + the momentous question of “what people did”; it was only the type of deed + investigated that was different. Mr. Leath collected his social instances + with the same seriousness and patience as his snuff-boxes. He exacted a + rigid conformity to his rules of non-conformity and his scepticism had the + absolute accent of a dogma. He even cherished certain exceptions to his + rules as the book-collector prizes a “defective” first edition. The + Protestant church-going of Anna’s parents had provoked his gentle sarcasm; + but he prided himself on his mother’s devoutness, because Madame de + Chantelle, in embracing her second husband’s creed, had become part of a + society which still observes the outward rites of piety. + </p> + <p> + Anna, in fact, had discovered in her amiable and elegant mother-in-law an + unexpected embodiment of the West Fifty-fifth Street ideal. Mrs. Summers + and Madame de Chantelle, however strongly they would have disagreed as to + the authorized source of Christian dogma, would have found themselves + completely in accord on all the momentous minutiae of drawing-room + conduct; yet Mr. Leath treated his mother’s foibles with a respect which + Anna’s experience of him forbade her to attribute wholly to filial + affection. + </p> + <p> + In the early days, when she was still questioning the Sphinx instead of + trying to find an answer to it, she ventured to tax her husband with his + inconsistency. + </p> + <p> + “You say your mother won’t like it if I call on that amusing little woman + who came here the other day, and was let in by mistake; but Madame de + Chantelle tells me she lives with her husband, and when mother refused to + visit Kitty Mayne you said——” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Leath’s smile arrested her. “My dear child, I don’t pretend to apply + the principles of logic to my poor mother’s prejudices.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you admit that they <i>are</i> prejudices——?” + </p> + <p> + “There are prejudices and prejudices. My mother, of course, got hers from + Monsieur de Chantelle, and they seem to me as much in their place in this + house as the pot-pourri in your hawthorn jar. They preserve a social + tradition of which I should be sorry to lose the least perfume. Of course + I don’t expect you, just at first, to feel the difference, to see the + nuance. In the case of little Madame de Vireville, for instance: you point + out that she’s still under her husband’s roof. Very true; and if she were + merely a Paris acquaintance—especially if you had met her, as one + still might, in the <i>right kind</i> of house in Paris—I should be the + last to object to your visiting her. But in the country it’s different. + Even the best provincial society is what you would call narrow: I don’t + deny it; and if some of our friends met Madame de Vireville at Givre—well, + it would produce a bad impression. You’re inclined to ridicule such + considerations, but gradually you’ll come to see their importance; and + meanwhile, do trust me when I ask you to be guided by my mother. It is + always well for a stranger in an old society to err a little on the side + of what you call its prejudices but I should rather describe as its + traditions.” + </p> + <p> + After that she no longer tried to laugh or argue her husband out of his + convictions. They <i>were</i> convictions, and therefore unassailable. Nor was + any insincerity implied in the fact that they sometimes seemed to coincide + with hers. There were occasions when he really did look at things as she + did; but for reasons so different as to make the distance between them all + the greater. Life, to Mr. Leath, was like a walk through a carefully + classified museum, where, in moments of doubt, one had only to look at the + number and refer to one’s catalogue; to his wife it was like groping about + in a huge dark lumber-room where the exploring ray of curiosity lit up now + some shape of breathing beauty and now a mummy’s grin. + </p> + <p> + In the first bewilderment of her new state these discoveries had had the + effect of dropping another layer of gauze between herself and reality. She + seemed farther than ever removed from the strong joys and pangs for which + she felt herself made. She did not adopt her husband’s views, but + insensibly she began to live his life. She tried to throw a compensating + ardour into the secret excursions of her spirit, and thus the old vicious + distinction between romance and reality was re-established for her, and + she resigned herself again to the belief that “real life” was neither real + nor alive. + </p> + <p> + The birth of her little girl swept away this delusion. At last she felt + herself in contact with the actual business of living: but even this + impression was not enduring. + </p> + <p> + Everything but the irreducible crude fact of child-bearing assumed, in the + Leath household, the same ghostly tinge of unreality. Her husband, at the + time, was all that his own ideal of a husband required. He was attentive, + and even suitably moved: but as he sat by her bedside, and thoughtfully + proffered to her the list of people who had “called to enquire”, she + looked first at him, and then at the child between them, and wondered at + the blundering alchemy of Nature... + </p> + <p> + With the exception of the little girl herself, everything connected with + that time had grown curiously remote and unimportant. The days that had + moved so slowly as they passed seemed now to have plunged down head-long + steeps of time; and as she sat in the autumn sun, with Darrow’s letter in + her hand, the history of Anna Leath appeared to its heroine like some grey + shadowy tale that she might have read in an old book, one night as she was + falling asleep... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X + </h2> + <p> + Two brown blurs emerging from the farther end of the wood-vista gradually + defined themselves as her step-son and an attendant game-keeper. They grew + slowly upon the bluish background, with occasional delays and + re-effacements, and she sat still, waiting till they should reach the gate + at the end of the drive, where the keeper would turn off to his cottage + and Owen continue on to the house. + </p> + <p> + She watched his approach with a smile. From the first days of her marriage + she had been drawn to the boy, but it was not until after Effie’s birth + that she had really begun to know him. The eager observation of her own + child had shown her how much she had still to learn about the slight fair + boy whom the holidays periodically restored to Givre. Owen, even then, + both physically and morally, furnished her with the oddest of commentaries + on his father’s mien and mind. He would never, the family sighingly + recognized, be nearly as handsome as Mr. Leath; but his rather charmingly + unbalanced face, with its brooding forehead and petulant boyish smile, + suggested to Anna what his father’s countenance might have been could one + have pictured its neat features disordered by a rattling breeze. She even + pushed the analogy farther, and descried in her step-son’s mind a + quaintly-twisted reflection of her husband’s. With his bursts of + door-slamming activity, his fits of bookish indolence, his crude + revolutionary dogmatizing and his flashes of precocious irony, the boy was + not unlike a boisterous embodiment of his father’s theories. It was as + though Fraser Leath’s ideas, accustomed to hang like marionettes on their + pegs, should suddenly come down and walk. There were moments, indeed, when + Owen’s humours must have suggested to his progenitor the gambols of an + infant Frankenstein; but to Anna they were the voice of her secret + rebellions, and her tenderness to her step-son was partly based on her + severity toward herself. As he had the courage she had lacked, so she + meant him to have the chances she had missed; and every effort she made + for him helped to keep her own hopes alive. + </p> + <p> + Her interest in Owen led her to think more often of his mother, and + sometimes she would slip away and stand alone before her predecessor’s + portrait. Since her arrival at Givre the picture—a “full-length” by + a once fashionable artist—had undergone the successive displacements + of an exiled consort removed farther and farther from the throne; and Anna + could not help noting that these stages coincided with the gradual decline + of the artist’s fame. She had a fancy that if his credit had been in the + ascendant the first Mrs. Leath might have continued to throne over the + drawing-room mantel-piece, even to the exclusion of her successor’s + effigy. Instead of this, her peregrinations had finally landed her in the + shrouded solitude of the billiard-room, an apartment which no one ever + entered, but where it was understood that “the light was better,” or might + have been if the shutters had not been always closed. + </p> + <p> + Here the poor lady, elegantly dressed, and seated in the middle of a large + lonely canvas, in the blank contemplation of a gilt console, had always + seemed to Anna to be waiting for visitors who never came. + </p> + <p> + “Of course they never came, you poor thing! I wonder how long it took you + to find out that they never would?” Anna had more than once apostrophized + her, with a derision addressed rather to herself than to the dead; but it + was only after Effie’s birth that it occurred to her to study more closely + the face in the picture, and speculate on the kind of visitors that Owen’s + mother might have hoped for. + </p> + <p> + “She certainly doesn’t look as if they would have been the same kind as + mine: but there’s no telling, from a portrait that was so obviously done + ‘to please the family’, and that leaves Owen so unaccounted for. Well, + they never came, the visitors; they never came; and she died of it. She + died of it long before they buried her: I’m certain of that. Those are + stone-dead eyes in the picture.... The loneliness must have been awful, if + even Owen couldn’t keep her from dying of it. And to feel it so she must + have <i>had</i> feelings—real live ones, the kind that twitch and tug. And + all she had to look at all her life was a gilt console—yes, that’s + it, a gilt console screwed to the wall! That’s exactly and absolutely what + he is!” + </p> + <p> + She did not mean, if she could help it, that either Effie or Owen should + know that loneliness, or let her know it again. They were three, now, to + keep each other warm, and she embraced both children in the same passion + of motherhood, as though one were not enough to shield her from her + predecessor’s fate. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes she fancied that Owen Leath’s response was warmer than that of + her own child. But then Effie was still hardly more than a baby, and Owen, + from the first, had been almost “old enough to understand”: certainly <i>did</i> + understand now, in a tacit way that yet perpetually spoke to her. This + sense of his understanding was the deepest element in their feeling for + each other. There were so many things between them that were never spoken + of, or even indirectly alluded to, yet that, even in their occasional + discussions and differences, formed the unadduced arguments making for + final agreement... + </p> + <p> + Musing on this, she continued to watch his approach; and her heart began + to beat a little faster at the thought of what she had to say to him. But + when he reached the gate she saw him pause, and after a moment he turned + aside as if to gain a cross-road through the park. + </p> + <p> + She started up and waved her sunshade, but he did not see her. No doubt he + meant to go back with the gamekeeper, perhaps to the kennels, to see a + retriever who had hurt his leg. Suddenly she was seized by the whim to + overtake him. She threw down the parasol, thrust her letter into her + bodice, and catching up her skirts began to run. + </p> + <p> + She was slight and light, with a natural ease and quickness of gait, but + she could not recall having run a yard since she had romped with Owen in + his school-days; nor did she know what impulse moved her now. She only + knew that run she must, that no other motion, short of flight, would have + been buoyant enough for her humour. She seemed to be keeping pace with + some inward rhythm, seeking to give bodily expression to the lyric rush of + her thoughts. The earth always felt elastic under her, and she had a + conscious joy in treading it; but never had it been as soft and springy as + today. It seemed actually to rise and meet her as she went, so that she + had the feeling, which sometimes came to her in dreams, of skimming + miraculously over short bright waves. The air, too, seemed to break in + waves against her, sweeping by on its current all the slanted lights and + moist sharp perfumes of the failing day. She panted to herself: “This is + nonsense!” her blood hummed back: “But it’s glorious!” and she sped on + till she saw that Owen had caught sight of her and was striding back in + her direction. + </p> + <p> + Then she stopped and waited, flushed and laughing, her hands clasped + against the letter in her breast. + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m not mad,” she called out; “but there’s something in the air today—don’t + you feel it?—And I wanted to have a little talk with you,” she added + as he came up to her, smiling at him and linking her arm in his. + </p> + <p> + He smiled back, but above the smile she saw the shade of anxiety which, + for the last two months, had kept its fixed line between his handsome + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Owen, don’t look like that! I don’t want you to!” she said imperiously. + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “You said that exactly like Effie. What do you want me to do? + To race with you as I do Effie? But I shouldn’t have a show!” he + protested, still with the little frown between his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “To the kennels. But there’s not the least need. The vet has seen Garry + and he’s all right. If there’s anything you wanted to tell me——” + </p> + <p> + “Did I say there was? I just came out to meet you—I wanted to know + if you’d had good sport.” + </p> + <p> + The shadow dropped on him again. “None at all. The fact is I didn’t try. + Jean and I have just been knocking about in the woods. I wasn’t in a + sanguinary mood.” + </p> + <p> + They walked on with the same light gait, so nearly of a height that + keeping step came as naturally to them as breathing. Anna stole another + look at the young face on a level with her own. + </p> + <p> + “You <i>did</i> say there was something you wanted to tell me,” her step-son + began after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there is.” She slackened her pace involuntarily, and they came to a + pause and stood facing each other under the limes. + </p> + <p> + “Is Darrow coming?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She seldom blushed, but at the question a sudden heat suffused her. She + held her head high. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: he’s coming. I’ve just heard. He arrives to-morrow. But that’s not——” + She saw her blunder and tried to rectify it. “Or rather, yes, in a way it + is my reason for wanting to speak to you——” + </p> + <p> + “Because he’s coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he’s not yet here.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s about him, then?” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her kindly, half-humourously, an almost fraternal wisdom in + his smile. + </p> + <p> + “About——? No, no: I meant that I wanted to speak today because + it’s our last day alone together.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see.” He had slipped his hands into the pockets of his tweed + shooting jacket and lounged along at her side, his eyes bent on the moist + ruts of the drive, as though the matter had lost all interest for him. + </p> + <p> + “Owen——” + </p> + <p> + He stopped again and faced her. “Look here, my dear, it’s no sort of use.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s no use?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything on earth you can any of you say.” + </p> + <p> + She challenged him: “Am I one of ‘any of you’?” + </p> + <p> + He did not yield. “Well, then—anything on earth that even <i>you</i> can + say.” “You don’t in the least know what I can say—or what I mean + to.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I, generally?” + </p> + <p> + She gave him this point, but only to make another. “Yes; but this is + particularly. I want to say.... Owen, you’ve been admirable all through.” + </p> + <p> + He broke into a laugh in which the odd elder-brotherly note was once more + perceptible. + </p> + <p> + “Admirable,” she emphasized. “And so has <i>she</i>.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, and so have you to <i>her</i>!” His voice broke down to boyishness. “I’ve + never lost sight of that for a minute. It’s been altogether easier for + her, though,” he threw off presently. + </p> + <p> + “On the whole, I suppose it has. Well——” she summed up with a + laugh, “aren’t you all the better pleased to be told you’ve behaved as + well as she?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know, I’ve not done it for you,” he tossed back at her, without + the least note of hostility in the affected lightness of his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you, though, perhaps—the least bit? Because, after all, you + knew I understood?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve been awfully kind about pretending to.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “You don’t believe me? You must remember I had your + grandmother to consider.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: and my father—and Effie, I suppose—and the outraged + shades of Givre!” He paused, as if to lay more stress on the boyish sneer: + “Do you likewise include the late Monsieur de Chantelle?” + </p> + <p> + His step-mother did not appear to resent the thrust. She went on, in the + same tone of affectionate persuasion: “Yes: I must have seemed to you too + subject to Givre. Perhaps I have been. But you know that was not my real + object in asking you to wait, to say nothing to your grandmother before + her return.” + </p> + <p> + He considered. “Your real object, of course, was to gain time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—but for whom? Why not for <i>you</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “For me?” He flushed up quickly. “You don’t mean——?” + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand on his arm and looked gravely into his handsome eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that when your grandmother gets back from Ouchy I shall speak to + her——” “You’ll speak to her...?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; if only you’ll promise to give me time——” + </p> + <p> + “Time for her to send for Adelaide Painter?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’ll undoubtedly send for Adelaide Painter!” + </p> + <p> + The allusion touched a spring of mirth in both their minds, and they + exchanged a laughing look. + </p> + <p> + “Only you must promise not to rush things. You must give me time to + prepare Adelaide too,” Mrs. Leath went on. + </p> + <p> + “Prepare her too?” He drew away for a better look at her. “Prepare her for + what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to prepare your grandmother! For your marriage. Yes, that’s what I + mean. I’m going to see you through, you know——” + </p> + <p> + His feint of indifference broke down and he caught her hand. “Oh, you dear + divine thing! I didn’t dream——” + </p> + <p> + “I know you didn’t.” She dropped her gaze and began to walk on slowly. “I + can’t say you’ve convinced me of the wisdom of the step. Only I seem to + see that other things matter more—and that not missing things + matters most. Perhaps I’ve changed—or <i>your</i> not changing has + convinced me. I’m certain now that you won’t budge. And that was really + all I ever cared about.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to not budging—I told you so months ago: you might have been + sure of that! And how can you be any surer today than yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I suppose one learns something every day——” + </p> + <p> + “Not at Givre!” he laughed, and shot a half-ironic look at her. “But you + haven’t really <i>been</i> at Givre lately—not for months! Don’t you + suppose I’ve noticed that, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + She echoed his laugh to merge it in an undenying sigh. “Poor Givre...” + </p> + <p> + “Poor empty Givre! With so many rooms full and yet not a soul in it—except + of course my grandmother, who is its soul!” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the gateway of the court and stood looking with a common + accord at the long soft-hued facade on which the autumn light was dying. + “It looks so made to be happy in——” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—today, today!” He pressed her arm a little. “Oh, you darling—to + have given it that look for me!” He paused, and then went on in a lower + voice: “Don’t you feel we owe it to the poor old place to do what we can + to give it that look? You, too, I mean? Come, let’s make it grin from wing + to wing! I’ve such a mad desire to say outrageous things to it—haven’t + you? After all, in old times there must have been living people here!” + </p> + <p> + Loosening her arm from his she continued to gaze up at the house-front, + which seemed, in the plaintive decline of light, to send her back the mute + appeal of something doomed. + </p> + <p> + “It <i>is</i> beautiful,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful memory! Quite perfect to take out and turn over when I’m + grinding at the law in New York, and you’re——” He broke off + and looked at her with a questioning smile. “Come! Tell me. You and I + don’t have to say things to talk to each other. When you turn suddenly + absentminded and mysterious I always feel like saying: ‘Come back. All is + discovered’.” + </p> + <p> + She returned his smile. “You know as much as I know. I promise you that.” + </p> + <p> + He wavered, as if for the first time uncertain how far he might go. “I + don’t know Darrow as much as you know him,” he presently risked. + </p> + <p> + She frowned a little. “You said just now we didn’t need to say things” + </p> + <p> + “Was I speaking? I thought it was your eyes——” He caught her + by both elbows and spun her halfway round, so that the late sun shed a + betraying gleam on her face. “They’re such awfully conversational eyes! + Don’t you suppose they told me long ago why it’s just today you’ve made up + your mind that people have got to live their own lives—even at + Givre?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI + </h2> + <p> + “This is the south terrace,” Anna said. “Should you like to walk down to + the river?” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to listen to herself speaking from a far-off airy height, and + yet to be wholly gathered into the circle of consciousness which drew its + glowing ring about herself and Darrow. To the aerial listener her words + sounded flat and colourless, but to the self within the ring each one beat + with a separate heart. + </p> + <p> + It was the day after Darrow’s arrival, and he had come down early, drawn + by the sweetness of the light on the lawns and gardens below his window. + Anna had heard the echo of his step on the stairs, his pause in the + stone-flagged hall, his voice as he asked a servant where to find her. She + was at the end of the house, in the brown-panelled sitting-room which she + frequented at that season because it caught the sunlight first and kept it + longest. She stood near the window, in the pale band of brightness, + arranging some salmon-pink geraniums in a shallow porcelain bowl. Every + sensation of touch and sight was thrice-alive in her. The grey-green fur + of the geranium leaves caressed her fingers and the sunlight wavering + across the irregular surface of the old parquet floor made it seem as + bright and shifting as the brown bed of a stream. + </p> + <p> + Darrow stood framed in the door-way of the farthest drawing-room, a + light-grey figure against the black and white flagging of the hall; then + he began to move toward her down the empty pale-panelled vista, crossing + one after another the long reflections which a projecting cabinet or + screen cast here and there upon the shining floors. + </p> + <p> + As he drew nearer, his figure was suddenly displaced by that of her + husband, whom, from the same point, she had so often seen advancing down + the same perspective. Straight, spare, erect, looking to right and left + with quick precise turns of the head, and stopping now and then to + straighten a chair or alter the position of a vase, Fraser Leath used to + march toward her through the double file of furniture like a general + reviewing a regiment drawn up for his inspection. At a certain point, + midway across the second room, he always stopped before the mantel-piece + of pinkish-yellow marble and looked at himself in the tall garlanded glass + that surmounted it. She could not remember that he had ever found anything + to straighten or alter in his own studied attire, but she had never known + him to omit the inspection when he passed that particular mirror. + </p> + <p> + When it was over he continued more briskly on his way, and the resulting + expression of satisfaction was still on his face when he entered the oak + sitting-room to greet his wife... + </p> + <p> + The spectral projection of this little daily scene hung but for a moment + before Anna, but in that moment she had time to fling a wondering glance + across the distance between her past and present. Then the footsteps of + the present came close, and she had to drop the geraniums to give her hand + to Darrow... + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us walk down to the river.” + </p> + <p> + They had neither of them, as yet, found much to say to each other. Darrow + had arrived late on the previous afternoon, and during the evening they + had had between them Owen Leath and their own thoughts. Now they were + alone for the first time and the fact was enough in itself. Yet Anna was + intensely aware that as soon as they began to talk more intimately they + would feel that they knew each other less well. + </p> + <p> + They passed out onto the terrace and down the steps to the gravel walk + below. The delicate frosting of dew gave the grass a bluish shimmer, and + the sunlight, sliding in emerald streaks along the tree-boles, gathered + itself into great luminous blurs at the end of the wood-walks, and hung + above the fields a watery glory like the ring about an autumn moon. + </p> + <p> + “It’s good to be here,” Darrow said. + </p> + <p> + They took a turn to the left and stopped for a moment to look back at the + long pink house-front, plainer, friendlier, less adorned than on the side + toward the court. So prolonged yet delicate had been the friction of time + upon its bricks that certain expanses had the bloom and texture of old red + velvet, and the patches of gold lichen spreading over them looked like the + last traces of a dim embroidery. The dome of the chapel, with its gilded + cross, rose above one wing, and the other ended in a conical pigeon-house, + above which the birds were flying, lustrous and slatey, their breasts + merged in the blue of the roof when they dropped down on it. + </p> + <p> + “And this is where you’ve been all these years.” + </p> + <p> + They turned away and began to walk down a long tunnel of yellowing trees. + Benches with mossy feet stood against the mossy edges of the path, and at + its farther end it widened into a circle about a basin rimmed with stone, + in which the opaque water strewn with leaves looked like a slab of + gold-flecked agate. The path, growing narrower, wound on circuitously + through the woods, between slender serried trunks twined with ivy. Patches + of blue appeared above them through the dwindling leaves, and presently + the trees drew back and showed the open fields along the river. + </p> + <p> + They walked on across the fields to the tow-path. In a curve of the wall + some steps led up to a crumbling pavilion with openings choked with ivy. + Anna and Darrow seated themselves on the bench projecting from the inner + wall of the pavilion and looked across the river at the slopes divided + into blocks of green and fawn-colour, and at the chalk-tinted village + lifting its squat church-tower and grey roofs against the precisely drawn + lines of the landscape. Anna sat silent, so intensely aware of Darrow’s + nearness that there was no surprise in the touch he laid on her hand. They + looked at each other, and he smiled and said: “There are to be no more + obstacles now.” + </p> + <p> + “Obstacles?” The word startled her. “What obstacles?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you remember the wording of the telegram that turned me back last + May? ‘Unforeseen obstacle’: that was it. What was the earth-shaking + problem, by the way? Finding a governess for Effie, wasn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “But I gave you my reason: the reason why it was an obstacle. I wrote you + fully about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know you did.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “How far off it + all seems, and how little it all matters today!” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him quickly. “Do you feel that? I suppose I’m different. I + want to draw all those wasted months into today—to make them a part + of it.” + </p> + <p> + “But they are, to me. You reach back and take everything—back to the + first days of all.” + </p> + <p> + She frowned a little, as if struggling with an inarticulate perplexity. + “It’s curious how, in those first days, too, something that I didn’t + understand came between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in those days we neither of us understood, did we? It’s part of + what’s called the bliss of being young.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I thought that, too: thought it, I mean, in looking back. But it + couldn’t, even then, have been as true of you as of me; and now——” + </p> + <p> + “Now,” he said, “the only thing that matters is that we’re sitting here + together.” + </p> + <p> + He dismissed the rest with a lightness that might have seemed conclusive + evidence of her power over him. But she took no pride in such triumphs. It + seemed to her that she wanted his allegiance and his adoration not so much + for herself as for their mutual love, and that in treating lightly any + past phase of their relation he took something from its present beauty. + The colour rose to her face. + </p> + <p> + “Between you and me everything matters.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course!” She felt the unperceiving sweetness of his smile. “That’s + why,” he went on, “‘everything,’ for me, is here and now: on this bench, + between you and me.” + </p> + <p> + She caught at the phrase. “That’s what I meant: it’s here and now; we + can’t get away from it.” + </p> + <p> + “Get away from it? Do you want to? <i>again</i>?” + </p> + <p> + Her heart was beating unsteadily. Something in her, fitfully and with + reluctance, struggled to free itself, but the warmth of his nearness + penetrated every sense as the sunlight steeped the landscape. Then, + suddenly, she felt that she wanted no less than the whole of her + happiness. + </p> + <p> + “‘Again’? But wasn’t it <i>you</i>, the last time——?” + </p> + <p> + She paused, the tremor in her of Psyche holding up the lamp. But in the + interrogative light of her pause her companion’s features underwent no + change. + </p> + <p> + “The last time? Last spring? But it was you who—for the best of + reasons, as you’ve told me—turned me back from your very door last + spring!” + </p> + <p> + She saw that he was good-humouredly ready to “thresh out,” for her + sentimental satisfaction, a question which, for his own, Time had so + conclusively dealt with; and the sense of his readiness reassured her. + </p> + <p> + “I wrote as soon as I could,” she rejoined. “I explained the delay and + asked you to come. And you never even answered my letter.” + </p> + <p> + “It was impossible to come then. I had to go back to my post.” + </p> + <p> + “And impossible to write and tell me so?” + </p> + <p> + “Your letter was a long time coming. I had waited a week—ten days. I + had some excuse for thinking, when it came, that you were in no great + hurry for an answer.” + </p> + <p> + “You thought that—really—after reading it?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it.” + </p> + <p> + Her heart leaped up to her throat. “Then why are you here today?” + </p> + <p> + He turned on her with a quick look of wonder. “God knows—if you can + ask me that!” + </p> + <p> + “You see I was right to say I didn’t understand.” + </p> + <p> + He stood up abruptly and stood facing her, blocking the view over the + river and the checkered slopes. “Perhaps I might say so too.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no: we must neither of us have any reason for saying it again.” She + looked at him gravely. “Surely you and I needn’t arrange the lights before + we show ourselves to each other. I want you to see me just as I am, with + all my irrational doubts and scruples; the old ones and the new ones too.” + </p> + <p> + He came back to his seat beside her. “Never mind the old ones. They were + justified—I’m willing to admit it. With the governess having + suddenly to be packed off, and Effie on your hands, and your mother-in-law + ill, I see the impossibility of your letting me come. I even see that, at + the moment, it was difficult to write and explain. But what does all that + matter now? The new scruples are the ones I want to tackle.” + </p> + <p> + Again her heart trembled. She felt her happiness so near, so sure, that to + strain it closer might be like a child’s crushing a pet bird in its + caress. But her very security urged her on. For so long her doubts had + been knife-edged: now they had turned into bright harmless toys that she + could toss and catch without peril! + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t come, and you didn’t answer my letter; and after waiting four + months I wrote another.” “And I answered that one; and I’m here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” She held his eyes. “But in my last letter I repeated exactly what + I’d said in the first—the one I wrote you last June. I told you then + that I was ready to give you the answer to what you’d asked me in London; + and in telling you that, I told you what the answer was.” + </p> + <p> + “My dearest! My dearest!” Darrow murmured. + </p> + <p> + “You ignored that letter. All summer you made no sign. And all I ask now + is, that you should frankly tell me why.” + </p> + <p> + “I can only repeat what I’ve just said. I was hurt and unhappy and I + doubted you. I suppose if I’d cared less I should have been more + confident. I cared so much that I couldn’t risk another failure. For you’d + made me feel that I’d miserably failed. So I shut my eyes and set my teeth + and turned my back. There’s the whole pusillanimous truth of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if it’s the <i>whole</i> truth!——” She let him clasp her. + “There’s my torment, you see. I thought that was what your silence meant + till I made you break it. Now I want to be sure that I was right.” + </p> + <p> + “What can I tell you to make you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “You can let me tell <i>you</i> everything first.” She drew away, but without + taking her hands from him. “Owen saw you in Paris,” she began. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him and he faced her steadily. The light was full on his + pleasantly-browned face, his grey eyes, his frank white forehead. She + noticed for the first time a seal-ring in a setting of twisted silver on + the hand he had kept on hers. + </p> + <p> + “In Paris? Oh, yes.... So he did.” + </p> + <p> + “He came back and told me. I think you talked to him a moment in a + theatre. I asked if you’d spoken of my having put you off—or if + you’d sent me any message. He didn’t remember that you had.” + </p> + <p> + “In a crush—in a Paris foyer? My dear!” + </p> + <p> + “It was absurd of me! But Owen and I have always been on odd kind of + brother-and-sister terms. I think he guessed about us when he saw you with + me in London. So he teased me a little and tried to make me curious about + you; and when he saw he’d succeeded he told me he hadn’t had time to say + much to you because you were in such a hurry to get back to the lady you + were with.” + </p> + <p> + He still held her hands, but she felt no tremor in his, and the blood did + not stir in his brown cheek. He seemed to be honestly turning over his + memories. “Yes: and what else did he tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not much, except that she was awfully pretty. When I asked him to + describe her he said you had her tucked away in a <i>baignoire</i> and he hadn’t + actually seen her; but he saw the tail of her cloak, and somehow knew from + that that she was pretty. One <i>does</i>, you know.... I think he said the cloak + was pink.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke into a laugh. “Of course it was—they always are! So + that was at the bottom of your doubts?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at first. I only laughed. But afterward, when I wrote you and you + didn’t answer——Oh, you <i>do</i> see?” she appealed to him. + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her gently. “Yes: I see.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not as if this were a light thing between us. I want you to know me + as I am. If I thought that at that moment ... when you were on your way + here, almost——” + </p> + <p> + He dropped her hand and stood up. “Yes, yes—I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “But do you?” Her look followed him. “I’m not a goose of a girl. I + know ... of course I <i>know</i>...but there are things a woman feels ... when what + she knows doesn’t make any difference. It’s not that I want you to explain—I + mean about that particular evening. It’s only that I want you to have the + whole of my feeling. I didn’t know what it was till I saw you again. I + never dreamed I should say such things to you!” + </p> + <p> + “I never dreamed I should be here to hear you say them!” He turned back + and lifting a floating end of her scarf put his lips to it. “But now that + you have, I know—I know,” he smiled down at her. + </p> + <p> + “You know?” + </p> + <p> + “That this is no light thing between us. Now you may ask me anything you + please! That was all I wanted to ask <i>you</i>.” + </p> + <p> + For a long moment they looked at each other without speaking. She saw the + dancing spirit in his eyes turn grave and darken to a passionate + sternness. He stooped and kissed her, and she sat as if folded in wings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII + </h2> + <p> + It was in the natural order of things that, on the way back to the house, + their talk should have turned to the future. + </p> + <p> + Anna was not eager to define it. She had an extraordinary sensitiveness to + the impalpable elements of happiness, and as she walked at Darrow’s side + her imagination flew back and forth, spinning luminous webs of feeling + between herself and the scene about her. Every heightening of emotion + produced for her a new effusion of beauty in visible things, and with it + the sense that such moments should be lingered over and absorbed like some + unrenewable miracle. She understood Darrow’s impatience to see their plans + take shape. She knew it must be so, she would not have had it otherwise; + but to reach a point where she could fix her mind on his appeal for dates + and decisions was like trying to break her way through the silver tangle + of an April wood. + </p> + <p> + Darrow wished to use his diplomatic opportunities as a means of studying + certain economic and social problems with which he presently hoped to deal + in print; and with this in view he had asked for, and obtained, a South + American appointment. Anna was ready to follow where he led, and not + reluctant to put new sights as well as new thoughts between herself and + her past. She had, in a direct way, only Effie and Effie’s education to + consider; and there seemed, after due reflection, no reason why the most + anxious regard for these should not be conciliated with the demands of + Darrow’s career. Effie, it was evident, could be left to Madame de + Chantelle’s care till the couple should have organized their life; and she + might even, as long as her future step-father’s work retained him in + distant posts, continue to divide her year between Givre and the + antipodes. + </p> + <p> + As for Owen, who had reached his legal majority two years before, and was + soon to attain the age fixed for the taking over of his paternal + inheritance, the arrival of this date would reduce his step-mother’s + responsibility to a friendly concern for his welfare. This made for the + prompt realization of Darrow’s wishes, and there seemed no reason why the + marriage should not take place within the six weeks that remained of his + leave. + </p> + <p> + They passed out of the wood-walk into the open brightness of the garden. + The noon sunlight sheeted with gold the bronze flanks of the polygonal + yews. Chrysanthemums, russet, saffron and orange, glowed like the + efflorescence of an enchanted forest; belts of red begonia purpling to + wine-colour ran like smouldering flame among the borders; and above this + outspread tapestry the house extended its harmonious length, the soberness + of its lines softened to grace in the luminous misty air. + </p> + <p> + Darrow stood still, and Anna felt that his glance was travelling from her + to the scene about them and then back to her face. + </p> + <p> + “You’re sure you’re prepared to give up Givre? You look so made for each + other!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Givre——” She broke off suddenly, feeling as if her too + careless tone had delivered all her past into his hands; and with one of + her instinctive movements of recoil she added: “When Owen marries I shall + have to give it up.” + </p> + <p> + “When Owen marries? That’s looking some distance ahead! I want to be told + that meanwhile you’ll have no regrets.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. Why did he press her to uncover to him her poor starved + past? A vague feeling of loyalty, a desire to spare what could no longer + harm her, made her answer evasively: “There will probably be no + ‘meanwhile.’ Owen may marry before long.” + </p> + <p> + She had not meant to touch on the subject, for her step-son had sworn her + to provisional secrecy; but since the shortness of Darrow’s leave + necessitated a prompt adjustment of their own plans, it was, after all, + inevitable that she should give him at least a hint of Owen’s. + </p> + <p> + “Owen marry? Why, he always seems like a faun in flannels! I hope he’s + found a dryad. There might easily be one left in these blue-and-gold + woods.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t tell you yet where he found his dryad, but she <i>is</i> one, I believe: + at any rate she’ll become the Givre woods better than I do. Only there may + be difficulties——” + </p> + <p> + “Well! At that age they’re not always to be wished away.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. “Owen, at any rate, has made up his mind to overcome them; + and I’ve promised to see him through.” + </p> + <p> + She went on, after a moment’s consideration, to explain that her + step-son’s choice was, for various reasons, not likely to commend itself + to his grandmother. “She must be prepared for it, and I’ve promised to do + the preparing. You know I always <i>have</i> seen him through things, and he + rather counts on me now.” + </p> + <p> + She fancied that Darrow’s exclamation had in it a faint note of annoyance, + and wondered if he again suspected her of seeking a pretext for + postponement. + </p> + <p> + “But once Owen’s future is settled, you won’t, surely, for the sake of + what you call seeing him through, ask that I should go away again without + you?” He drew her closer as they walked. “Owen will understand, if you + don’t. Since he’s in the same case himself I’ll throw myself on his mercy. + He’ll see that I have the first claim on you; he won’t even want you not + to see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Owen sees everything: I’m not afraid of that. But his future isn’t + settled. He’s very young to marry—too young, his grandmother is sure + to think—and the marriage he wants to make is not likely to convince + her to the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mean that it’s like his first choice?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! But it’s not what Madame de Chantelle would call a good match; + it’s not even what I call a wise one.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet you’re backing him up?” + </p> + <p> + “Yet I’m backing him up.” She paused. “I wonder if you’ll understand? What + I’ve most wanted for him, and shall want for Effie, is that they shall + always feel free to make their own mistakes, and never, if possible, be + persuaded to make other people’s. Even if Owen’s marriage is a mistake, + and has to be paid for, I believe he’ll learn and grow in the paying. Of + course I can’t make Madame de Chantelle see this; but I can remind her + that, with his character—his big rushes of impulse, his odd + intervals of ebb and apathy—she may drive him into some worse + blunder if she thwarts him now.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to break the news to her as soon as she comes back from + Ouchy?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I see my way to it. She knows the girl and likes her: that’s + our hope. And yet it may, in the end, prove our danger, make it harder for + us all, when she learns the truth, than if Owen had chosen a stranger. I + can’t tell you more till I’ve told her: I’ve promised Owen not to tell any + one. All I ask you is to give me time, to give me a few days at any rate + She’s been wonderfully ‘nice,’ as she would call it, about you, and about + the fact of my having soon to leave Givre; but that, again, may make it + harder for Owen. At any rate, you can see, can’t you, how it makes me want + to stand by him? You see, I couldn’t bear it if the least fraction of my + happiness seemed to be stolen from his—as if it were a little scrap + of happiness that had to be pieced out with other people’s!” She clasped + her hands on Darrow’s arm. “I want our life to be like a house with all + the windows lit: I’d like to string lanterns from the roof and chimneys!” + </p> + <p> + She ended with an inward tremor. All through her exposition and her appeal + she had told herself that the moment could hardly have been less well + chosen. In Darrow’s place she would have felt, as he doubtless did, that + her carefully developed argument was only the disguise of an habitual + indecision. It was the hour of all others when she would have liked to + affirm herself by brushing aside every obstacle to his wishes; yet it was + only by opposing them that she could show the strength of character she + wanted him to feel in her. + </p> + <p> + But as she talked she began to see that Darrow’s face gave back no + reflection of her words, that he continued to wear the abstracted look of + a man who is not listening to what is said to him. It caused her a slight + pang to discover that his thoughts could wander at such a moment; then, + with a flush of joy she perceived the reason. + </p> + <p> + In some undefinable way she had become aware, without turning her head, + that he was steeped in the sense of her nearness, absorbed in + contemplating the details of her face and dress; and the discovery made + the words throng to her lips. She felt herself speak with ease, authority, + conviction. She said to herself: “He doesn’t care what I say—it’s + enough that I say it—even if it’s stupid he’ll like me better for + it...” She knew that every inflexion of her voice, every gesture, every + characteristic of her person—its very defects, the fact that her + forehead was too high, that her eyes were not large enough, that her + hands, though slender, were not small, and that the fingers did not taper—she + knew that these deficiencies were so many channels through which her + influence streamed to him; that she pleased him in spite of them, perhaps + because of them; that he wanted her as she was, and not as she would have + liked to be; and for the first time she felt in her veins the security and + lightness of happy love. + </p> + <p> + They reached the court and walked under the limes toward the house. The + hall door stood wide, and through the windows opening on the terrace the + sun slanted across the black and white floor, the faded tapestry chairs, + and Darrow’s travelling coat and cap, which lay among the cloaks and rugs + piled on a bench against the wall. + </p> + <p> + The sight of these garments, lying among her own wraps, gave her a sense + of homely intimacy. It was as if her happiness came down from the skies + and took on the plain dress of daily things. At last she seemed to hold it + in her hand. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the hall her eye lit on an unstamped note conspicuously + placed on the table. + </p> + <p> + “From Owen! He must have rushed off somewhere in the motor.” + </p> + <p> + She felt a secret stir of pleasure at the immediate inference that she and + Darrow would probably lunch alone. Then she opened the note and stared at + it in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Dear,” Owen wrote, “after what you said yesterday I can’t wait another + hour, and I’m off to Francheuil, to catch the Dijon express and travel + back with them. Don’t be frightened; I won’t speak unless it’s safe to. + Trust me for that—but I had to go.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up slowly. + </p> + <p> + “He’s gone to Dijon to meet his grandmother. Oh, I hope I haven’t made a + mistake!” + </p> + <p> + “You? Why, what have you to do with his going to Dijon?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. “The day before yesterday I told him, for the first time, + that I meant to see him through, no matter what happened. And I’m afraid + he’s lost his head, and will be imprudent and spoil things. You see, I + hadn’t meant to say a word to him till I’d had time to prepare Madame de + Chantelle.” + </p> + <p> + She felt that Darrow was looking at her and reading her thoughts, and the + colour flew to her face. “Yes: it was when I heard you were coming that I + told him. I wanted him to feel as I felt ... it seemed too unkind to make + him wait!” Her hand was in his, and his arm rested for a moment on her + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “It <i>would</i> have been too unkind to make him wait.” + </p> + <p> + They moved side by side toward the stairs. Through the haze of bliss + enveloping her, Owen’s affairs seemed curiously unimportant and remote. + Nothing really mattered but this torrent of light in her veins. She put + her foot on the lowest step, saying: “It’s nearly luncheon time—I + must take off my hat...” and as she started up the stairs Darrow stood + below in the hall and watched her. But the distance between them did not + make him seem less near: it was as if his thoughts moved with her and + touched her like endearing hands. + </p> + <p> + In her bedroom she shut the door and stood still, looking about her in a + fit of dreamy wonder. Her feelings were unlike any she had ever known: + richer, deeper, more complete. For the first time everything in her, from + head to foot, seemed to be feeding the same full current of sensation. + </p> + <p> + She took off her hat and went to the dressing-table to smooth her hair. + The pressure of the hat had flattened the dark strands on her forehead; + her face was paler than usual, with shadows about the eyes. She felt a + pang of regret for the wasted years. “If I look like this today,” she said + to herself, “what will he think of me when I’m ill or worried?” She began + to run her fingers through her hair, rejoicing in its thickness; then she + desisted and sat still, resting her chin on her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I want him to see me as I am,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + Deeper than the deepest fibre of her vanity was the triumphant sense that + <i>as she was</i>, with her flattened hair, her tired pallor, her thin sleeves a + little tumbled by the weight of her jacket, he would like her even better, + feel her nearer, dearer, more desirable, than in all the splendours she + might put on for him. In the light of this discovery she studied her face + with a new intentness, seeing its defects as she had never seen them, yet + seeing them through a kind of radiance, as though love were a luminous + medium into which she had been bodily plunged. + </p> + <p> + She was glad now that she had confessed her doubts and her jealousy. She + divined that a man in love may be flattered by such involuntary betrayals, + that there are moments when respect for his liberty appeals to him less + than the inability to respect it: moments so propitious that a woman’s + very mistakes and indiscretions may help to establish her dominion. The + sense of power she had been aware of in talking to Darrow came back with + ten-fold force. She felt like testing him by the most fantastic exactions, + and at the same moment she longed to humble herself before him, to make + herself the shadow and echo of his mood. She wanted to linger with him in + a world of fancy and yet to walk at his side in the world of fact. She + wanted him to feel her power and yet to love her for her ignorance and + humility. She felt like a slave, and a goddess, and a girl in her teens... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII + </h2> + <p> + Darrow, late that evening, threw himself into an armchair before his fire + and mused. + </p> + <p> + The room was propitious to meditation. The red-veiled lamp, the corners of + shadow, the splashes of firelight on the curves of old full-bodied + wardrobes and cabinets, gave it an air of intimacy increased by its faded + hangings, its slightly frayed and threadbare rugs. Everything in it was + harmoniously shabby, with a subtle sought-for shabbiness in which Darrow + fancied he discerned the touch of Fraser Leath. But Fraser Leath had grown + so unimportant a factor in the scheme of things that these marks of his + presence caused the young man no emotion beyond that of a faint + retrospective amusement. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon and evening had been perfect. + </p> + <p> + After a moment of concern over her step-son’s departure, Anna had + surrendered herself to her happiness with an impetuosity that Darrow had + never suspected in her. Early in the afternoon they had gone out in the + motor, traversing miles of sober-tinted landscape in which, here and + there, a scarlet vineyard flamed, clattering through the streets of stony + villages, coming out on low slopes above the river, or winding through the + pale gold of narrow wood-roads with the blue of clear-cut hills at their + end. Over everything lay a faint sunshine that seemed dissolved in the + still air, and the smell of wet roots and decaying leaves was merged in + the pungent scent of burning underbrush. Once, at the turn of a wall, they + stopped the motor before a ruined gateway and, stumbling along a road full + of ruts, stood before a little old deserted house, fantastically carved + and chimneyed, which lay in a moat under the shade of ancient trees. They + paced the paths between the trees, found a mouldy Temple of Love on an + islet among reeds and plantains, and, sitting on a bench in the + stable-yard, watched the pigeons circling against the sunset over their + cot of patterned brick. Then the motor flew on into the dusk... + </p> + <p> + When they came in they sat beside the fire in the oak drawing-room, and + Darrow noticed how delicately her head stood out against the sombre + panelling, and mused on the enjoyment there would always be in the mere + fact of watching her hands as they moved about among the tea-things... + </p> + <p> + They dined late, and facing her across the table, with its low lights and + flowers, he felt an extraordinary pleasure in seeing her again in evening + dress, and in letting his eyes dwell on the proud shy set of her head, the + way her dark hair clasped it, and the girlish thinness of her neck above + the slight swell of the breast. His imagination was struck by the quality + of reticence in her beauty. She suggested a fine portrait kept down to a + few tones, or a Greek vase on which the play of light is the only pattern. + </p> + <p> + After dinner they went out on the terrace for a look at the moon-misted + park. Through the crepuscular whiteness the trees hung in blotted masses. + Below the terrace, the garden drew its dark diagrams between statues that + stood like muffled conspirators on the edge of the shadow. Farther off, + the meadows unrolled a silver-shot tissue to the mantling of mist above + the river; and the autumn stars trembled overhead like their own + reflections seen in dim water. + </p> + <p> + He lit his cigar, and they walked slowly up and down the flags in the + languid air, till he put an arm about her, saying: “You mustn’t stay till + you’re chilled”; then they went back into the room and drew up their + chairs to the fire. + </p> + <p> + It seemed only a moment later that she said: “It must be after eleven,” + and stood up and looked down on him, smiling faintly. He sat still, + absorbing the look, and thinking: “There’ll be evenings and evenings”—till + she came nearer, bent over him, and with a hand on his shoulder said: + “Good night.” + </p> + <p> + He got to his feet and put his arms about her. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he answered, and held her fast; and they gave each other a + long kiss of promise and communion. + </p> + <p> + The memory of it glowed in him still as he sat over his crumbling fire; + but beneath his physical exultation he felt a certain gravity of mood. His + happiness was in some sort the rallying-point of many scattered purposes. + He summed it up vaguely by saying to himself that to be loved by a woman + like that made “all the difference”...He was a little tired of + experimenting on life; he wanted to “take a line”, to follow things up, to + centralize and concentrate, and produce results. Two or three more years + of diplomacy—with her beside him!—and then their real life + would begin: study, travel and book-making for him, and for her—well, + the joy, at any rate, of getting out of an atmosphere of bric-a-brac and + card-leaving into the open air of competing activities. + </p> + <p> + The desire for change had for some time been latent in him, and his + meeting with Mrs. Leath the previous spring had given it a definite + direction. With such a comrade to focus and stimulate his energies he felt + modestly but agreeably sure of “doing something”. And under this assurance + was the lurking sense that he was somehow worthy of his opportunity. His + life, on the whole, had been a creditable affair. Out of modest chances + and middling talents he had built himself a fairly marked personality, + known some exceptional people, done a number of interesting and a few + rather difficult things, and found himself, at thirty-seven, possessed of + an intellectual ambition sufficient to occupy the passage to a robust and + energetic old age. As for the private and personal side of his life, it + had come up to the current standards, and if it had dropped, now and then, + below a more ideal measure, even these declines had been brief, + parenthetic, incidental. In the recognized essentials he had always + remained strictly within the limit of his scruples. + </p> + <p> + From this reassuring survey of his case he came back to the contemplation + of its crowning felicity. His mind turned again to his first meeting with + Anna Summers and took up one by one the threads of their faintly sketched + romance. He dwelt with pardonable pride on the fact that fate had so early + marked him for the high privilege of possessing her: it seemed to mean + that they had really, in the truest sense of the ill-used phrase, been + made for each other. + </p> + <p> + Deeper still than all these satisfactions was the mere elemental sense of + well-being in her presence. That, after all, was what proved her to be the + woman for him: the pleasure he took in the set of her head, the way her + hair grew on her forehead and at the nape, her steady gaze when he spoke, + the grave freedom of her gait and gestures. He recalled every detail of + her face, the fine veinings of the temples, the bluish-brown shadows in + her upper lids, and the way the reflections of two stars seemed to form + and break up in her eyes when he held her close to him... + </p> + <p> + If he had had any doubt as to the nature of her feeling for him those + dissolving stars would have allayed it. She was reserved, she was shy + even, was what the shallow and effusive would call “cold”. She was like a + picture so hung that it can be seen only at a certain angle: an angle + known to no one but its possessor. The thought flattered his sense of + possessorship.... He felt that the smile on his lips would have been fatuous + had it had a witness. He was thinking of her look when she had questioned + him about his meeting with Owen at the theatre: less of her words than of + her look, and of the effort the question cost her: the reddening of her + cheek, the deepening of the strained line between her brows, the way her + eyes sought shelter and then turned and drew on him. Pride and passion + were in the conflict—magnificent qualities in a wife! The sight + almost made up for his momentary embarrassment at the rousing of a memory + which had no place in his present picture of himself. + </p> + <p> + Yes! It was worth a good deal to watch that fight between her instinct and + her intelligence, and know one’s self the object of the struggle... + </p> + <p> + Mingled with these sensations were considerations of another order. He + reflected with satisfaction that she was the kind of woman with whom one + would like to be seen in public. It would be distinctly agreeable to + follow her into drawing-rooms, to walk after her down the aisle of a + theatre, to get in and out of trains with her, to say “my wife” of her to + all sorts of people. He draped these details in the handsome phrase “She’s + a woman to be proud of”, and felt that this fact somehow justified and + ennobled his instinctive boyish satisfaction in loving her. + </p> + <p> + He stood up, rambled across the room and leaned out for a while into the + starry night. Then he dropped again into his armchair with a sigh of deep + content. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it,” he suddenly exclaimed, “it’s the best thing that’s ever + happened to me, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + The next day was even better. He felt, and knew she felt, that they had + reached a clearer understanding of each other. It was as if, after a swim + through bright opposing waves, with a dazzle of sun in their eyes, they + had gained an inlet in the shades of a cliff, where they could float on + the still surface and gaze far down into the depths. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, as they walked and talked, he felt a thrill of youthful + wonder at the coincidence of their views and their experiences, at the way + their minds leapt to the same point in the same instant. + </p> + <p> + “The old delusion, I suppose,” he smiled to himself. “Will Nature never + tire of the trick?” + </p> + <p> + But he knew it was more than that. There were moments in their talk when + he felt, distinctly and unmistakably, the solid ground of friendship + underneath the whirling dance of his sensations. “How I should like her if + I didn’t love her!” he summed it up, wondering at the miracle of such a + union. + </p> + <p> + In the course of the morning a telegram had come from Owen Leath, + announcing that he, his grandmother and Effie would arrive from Dijon that + afternoon at four. The station of the main line was eight or ten miles + from Givre, and Anna, soon after three, left in the motor to meet the + travellers. + </p> + <p> + When she had gone Darrow started for a walk, planning to get back late, in + order that the reunited family might have the end of the afternoon to + themselves. He roamed the country-side till long after dark, and the + stable-clock of Givre was striking seven as he walked up the avenue to the + court. + </p> + <p> + In the hall, coming down the stairs, he encountered Anna. Her face was + serene, and his first glance showed him that Owen had kept his word and + that none of her forebodings had been fulfilled. + </p> + <p> + She had just come down from the school-room, where Effie and the governess + were having supper; the little girl, she told him, looked immensely better + for her Swiss holiday, but was dropping with sleep after the journey, and + too tired to make her habitual appearance in the drawing-room before being + put to bed. Madame de Chantelle was resting, but would be down for dinner; + and as for Owen, Anna supposed he was off somewhere in the park—he + had a passion for prowling about the park at nightfall... + </p> + <p> + Darrow followed her into the brown room, where the tea-table had been left + for him. He declined her offer of tea, but she lingered a moment to tell + him that Owen had in fact kept his word, and that Madame de Chantelle had + come back in the best of humours, and unsuspicious of the blow about to + fall. + </p> + <p> + “She has enjoyed her month at Ouchy, and it has given her a lot to talk + about—her symptoms, and the rival doctors, and the people at the + hotel. It seems she met your Ambassadress there, and Lady Wantley, and + some other London friends of yours, and she’s heard what she calls + ‘delightful things’ about you: she told me to tell you so. She attaches + great importance to the fact that your grandmother was an Everard of + Albany. She’s prepared to open her arms to you. I don’t know whether it + won’t make it harder for poor Owen ... the contrast, I mean.... There are no + Ambassadresses or Everards to vouch for <i>his</i> choice! But you’ll help me, + won’t you? You’ll help me to help him? To-morrow I’ll tell you the rest. + Now I must rush up and tuck in Effie...” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you’ll see, we’ll pull it off for him!” he assured her; “together, we + can’t fail to pull it off.” + </p> + <p> + He stood and watched her with a smile as she fled down the half-lit vista + to the hall. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV + </h2> + <p> + If Darrow, on entering the drawing-room before dinner, examined its new + occupant with unusual interest, it was more on Owen Leath’s account than + his own. + </p> + <p> + Anna’s hints had roused his interest in the lad’s love affair, and he + wondered what manner of girl the heroine of the coming conflict might be. + He had guessed that Owen’s rebellion symbolized for his step-mother her + own long struggle against the Leath conventions, and he understood that if + Anna so passionately abetted him it was partly because, as she owned, she + wanted his liberation to coincide with hers. + </p> + <p> + The lady who was to represent, in the impending struggle, the forces of + order and tradition was seated by the fire when Darrow entered. Among the + flowers and old furniture of the large pale-panelled room, Madame de + Chantelle had the inanimate elegance of a figure introduced into a + “still-life” to give the scale. And this, Darrow reflected, was exactly + what she doubtless regarded as her chief obligation: he was sure she + thought a great deal of “measure”, and approved of most things only up to + a certain point. She was a woman of sixty, with a figure at once young and + old-fashioned. Her fair faded tints, her quaint corseting, the + passementerie on her tight-waisted dress, the velvet band on her tapering + arm, made her resemble a “carte de visite” photograph of the middle + ’sixties. One saw her, younger but no less invincibly lady-like, leaning on + a chair with a fringed back, a curl in her neck, a locket on her tuckered + bosom, toward the end of an embossed morocco album beginning with The + Beauties of the Second Empire. + </p> + <p> + She received her daughter-in-law’s suitor with an affability which implied + her knowledge and approval of his suit. Darrow had already guessed her to + be a person who would instinctively oppose any suggested changes, and + then, after one had exhausted one’s main arguments, unexpectedly yield to + some small incidental reason, and adhere doggedly to her new position. She + boasted of her old-fashioned prejudices, talked a good deal of being a + grandmother, and made a show of reaching up to tap Owen’s shoulder, though + his height was little more than hers. + </p> + <p> + She was full of a small pale prattle about the people she had seen at + Ouchy, as to whom she had the minute statistical information of a + gazetteer, without any apparent sense of personal differences. She said to + Darrow: “They tell me things are very much changed in America.... Of course + in my youth there <i>was</i> a Society”...She had no desire to return there she + was sure the standards must be so different. “There are charming people + everywhere ... and one must always look on the best side ... but when one has + lived among Traditions it’s difficult to adapt one’s self to the new + ideas.... These dreadful views of marriage ... it’s so hard to explain them to + my French relations.... I’m thankful to say I don’t pretend to understand + them myself! But <i>you’re</i> an Everard—I told Anna last spring in London + that one sees that instantly”... + </p> + <p> + She wandered off to the cooking and the service of the hotel at Ouchy. She + attached great importance to gastronomic details and to the manners of + hotel servants. There, too, there was a falling off, she said. “I don t + know, of course; but people say it’s owing to the Americans. Certainly my + waiter had a way of slapping down the dishes ... they tell me that many of + them are Anarchists ... belong to Unions, you know.” She appealed to + Darrow’s reported knowledge of economic conditions to confirm this ominous + rumour. + </p> + <p> + After dinner Owen Leath wandered into the next room, where the piano + stood, and began to play among the shadows. His step-mother presently + joined him, and Darrow sat alone with Madame de Chantelle. + </p> + <p> + She took up the thread of her mild chat and carried it on at the same pace + as her knitting. Her conversation resembled the large loose-stranded web + between her fingers: now and then she dropped a stitch, and went on + regardless of the gap in the pattern. + </p> + <p> + Darrow listened with a lazy sense of well-being. In the mental lull of the + after-dinner hour, with harmonious memories murmuring through his mind, + and the soft tints and shadowy spaces of the fine old room charming his + eyes to indolence, Madame de Chantelle’s discourse seemed not out of + place. He could understand that, in the long run, the atmosphere of Givre + might be suffocating; but in his present mood its very limitations had a + grace. + </p> + <p> + Presently he found the chance to say a word in his own behalf; and + thereupon measured the advantage, never before particularly apparent to + him, of being related to the Everards of Albany. Madame de Chantelle’s + conception of her native country—to which she had not returned since + her twentieth year—reminded him of an ancient geographer’s map of + the Hyperborean regions. It was all a foggy blank, from which only one or + two fixed outlines emerged; and one of these belonged to the Everards of + Albany. + </p> + <p> + The fact that they offered such firm footing—formed, so to speak, a + friendly territory on which the opposing powers could meet and treat—helped + him through the task of explaining and justifying himself as the successor + of Fraser Leath. Madame de Chantelle could not resist such incontestable + claims. She seemed to feel her son’s hovering and discriminating presence, + and she gave Darrow the sense that he was being tested and approved as a + last addition to the Leath Collection. + </p> + <p> + She also made him aware of the immense advantage he possessed in belonging + to the diplomatic profession. She spoke of this humdrum calling as a + Career, and gave Darrow to understand that she supposed him to have been + seducing Duchesses when he was not negotiating Treaties. He heard again + quaint phrases which romantic old ladies had used in his youth: “Brilliant + diplomatic society ... social advantages ... the entree everywhere ... nothing + else <i>forms</i> a young man in the same way...” and she sighingly added that + she could have wished her grandson had chosen the same path to glory. + </p> + <p> + Darrow prudently suppressed his own view of the profession, as well as the + fact that he had adopted it provisionally, and for reasons less social + than sociological; and the talk presently passed on to the subject of his + future plans. + </p> + <p> + Here again, Madame de Chantelle’s awe of the Career made her admit the + necessity of Anna’s consenting to an early marriage. The fact that Darrow + was “ordered” to South America seemed to put him in the romantic light of + a young soldier charged to lead a forlorn hope: she sighed and said: “At + such moments a wife’s duty is at her husband’s side.” + </p> + <p> + The problem of Effie’s future might have disturbed her, she added; but + since Anna, for a time, consented to leave the little girl with her, that + problem was at any rate deferred. She spoke plaintively of the + responsibility of looking after her granddaughter, but Darrow divined that + she enjoyed the flavour of the word more than she felt the weight of the + fact. + </p> + <p> + “Effie’s a perfect child. She’s more like my son, perhaps, than dear Owen. + She’ll never intentionally give me the least trouble. But of course the + responsibility will be great.... I’m not sure I should dare to undertake it + if it were not for her having such a treasure of a governess. Has Anna + told you about our little governess? After all the worry we had last year, + with one impossible creature after another, it seems providential, just + now, to have found her. At first we were afraid she was too young; but now + we’ve the greatest confidence in her. So clever and amusing—and <i>such</i> + a lady! I don’t say her education’s all it might be ... no drawing or + singing ... but one can’t have everything; and she speaks Italian...” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle’s fond insistence on the likeness between Effie Leath + and her father, if not particularly gratifying to Darrow, had at least + increased his desire to see the little girl. It gave him an odd feeling of + discomfort to think that she should have any of the characteristics of the + late Fraser Leath: he had, somehow, fantastically pictured her as the + mystical offspring of the early tenderness between himself and Anna + Summers. + </p> + <p> + His encounter with Effie took place the next morning, on the lawn below + the terrace, where he found her, in the early sunshine, knocking about + golf balls with her brother. Almost at once, and with infinite relief, he + saw that the resemblance of which Madame de Chantelle boasted was mainly + external. Even that discovery was slightly distasteful, though Darrow was + forced to own that Fraser Leath’s straight-featured fairness had lent + itself to the production of a peculiarly finished image of childish + purity. But it was evident that other elements had also gone to the making + of Effie, and that another spirit sat in her eyes. Her serious handshake, + her “pretty” greeting, were worthy of the Leath tradition, and he guessed + her to be more malleable than Owen, more subject to the influences of + Givre; but the shout with which she returned to her romp had in it the + note of her mother’s emancipation. + </p> + <p> + He had begged a holiday for her, and when Mrs. Leath appeared he and she + and the little girl went off for a ramble. Anna wished her daughter to + have time to make friends with Darrow before learning in what relation he + was to stand to her; and the three roamed the woods and fields till the + distant chime of the stable-clock made them turn back for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + Effie, who was attended by a shaggy terrier, had picked up two or three + subordinate dogs at the stable; and as she trotted on ahead with her + yapping escort, Anna hung back to throw a look at Darrow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he answered it, “she’s exquisite.... Oh, I see what I’m asking of + you! But she’ll be quite happy here, won’t she? And you must remember it + won’t be for long...” + </p> + <p> + Anna sighed her acquiescence. “Oh, she’ll be happy here. It’s her nature + to be happy. She’ll apply herself to it, conscientiously, as she does to + her lessons, and to what she calls ‘being good’...In a way, you see, + that’s just what worries me. Her idea of ‘being good’ is to please the + person she’s with—she puts her whole dear little mind on it! And so, + if ever she’s with the wrong person——” + </p> + <p> + “But surely there’s no danger of that just now? Madame de Chantelle tells + me that you’ve at last put your hand on a perfect governess——” + </p> + <p> + Anna, without answering, glanced away from him toward her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “It’s lucky, at any rate,” Darrow continued, “that Madame de Chantelle + thinks her so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I think very highly of her too.” + </p> + <p> + “Highly enough to feel quite satisfied to leave her with Effie?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. She’s just the person for Effie. Only, of course, one never + knows.... She’s young, and she might take it into her head to leave us...” + After a pause she added: “I’m naturally anxious to know what you think of + her.” + </p> + <p> + When they entered the house the hands of the hall clock stood within a few + minutes of the luncheon hour. Anna led Effie off to have her hair smoothed + and Darrow wandered into the oak sitting-room, which he found untenanted. + The sun lay pleasantly on its brown walls, on the scattered books and the + flowers in old porcelain vases. In his eyes lingered the vision of the + dark-haired mother mounting the stairs with her little fair daughter. The + contrast between them seemed a last touch of grace in the complex harmony + of things. He stood in the window, looking out at the park, and brooding + inwardly upon his happiness... + </p> + <p> + He was roused by Effie’s voice and the scamper of her feet down the long + floors behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is! Here he is!” she cried, flying over the threshold. + </p> + <p> + He turned and stooped to her with a smile, and as she caught his hand he + perceived that she was trying to draw him toward some one who had paused + behind her in the doorway, and whom he supposed to be her mother. + </p> + <p> + “HERE he is!” Effie repeated, with her sweet impatience. + </p> + <p> + The figure in the doorway came forward and Darrow, looking up, found + himself face to face with Sophy Viner. They stood still, a yard or two + apart, and looked at each other without speaking. + </p> + <p> + As they paused there, a shadow fell across one of the terrace windows, and + Owen Leath stepped whistling into the room. In his rough shooting clothes, + with the glow of exercise under his fair skin, he looked extraordinarily + light-hearted and happy. Darrow, with a quick side-glance, noticed this, + and perceived also that the glow on the youth’s cheek had deepened + suddenly to red. He too stopped short, and the three stood there + motionless for a barely perceptible beat of time. During its lapse, + Darrow’s eyes had turned back from Owen’s face to that of the girl between + them. He had the sense that, whatever was done, it was he who must do it, + and that it must be done immediately. He went forward and held out his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Miss Viner?” + </p> + <p> + She answered: “How do you do?” in a voice that sounded clear and natural; + and the next moment he again became aware of steps behind him, and knew + that Mrs. Leath was in the room. + </p> + <p> + To his strained senses there seemed to be another just measurable pause + before Anna said, looking gaily about the little group: “Has Owen + introduced you? This is Effie’s friend, Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + Effie, still hanging on her governess’s arm, pressed herself closer with a + little gesture of appropriation; and Miss Viner laid her hand on her + pupil’s hair. + </p> + <p> + Darrow felt that Anna’s eyes had turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “I think Miss Viner and I have met already—several years ago in + London.” + </p> + <p> + “I remember,” said Sophy Viner, in the same clear voice. + </p> + <p> + “How charming! Then we’re all friends. But luncheon must be ready,” said + Mrs. Leath. + </p> + <p> + She turned back to the door, and the little procession moved down the two + long drawing-rooms, with Effie waltzing on ahead. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV + </h2> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle and Anna had planned, for the afternoon, a visit to a + remotely situated acquaintance whom the introduction of the motor had + transformed into a neighbour. Effie was to pay for her morning’s holiday + by an hour or two in the school-room, and Owen suggested that he and + Darrow should betake themselves to a distant covert in the desultory quest + for pheasants. + </p> + <p> + Darrow was not an ardent sportsman, but any pretext for physical activity + would have been acceptable at the moment; and he was glad both to get away + from the house and not to be left to himself. + </p> + <p> + When he came downstairs the motor was at the door, and Anna stood before + the hall mirror, swathing her hat in veils. She turned at the sound of his + step and smiled at him for a long full moment. + </p> + <p> + “I’d no idea you knew Miss Viner,” she said, as he helped her into her + long coat. + </p> + <p> + “It came back to me, luckily, that I’d seen her two or three times in + London, several years ago. She was secretary, or something of the sort, in + the background of a house where I used to dine.” + </p> + <p> + He loathed the slighting indifference of the phrase, but he had uttered it + deliberately, had been secretly practising it all through the interminable + hour at the luncheon-table. Now that it was spoken, he shivered at its + note of condescension. In such cases one was almost sure to overdo.... But + Anna seemed to notice nothing unusual. + </p> + <p> + “Was she really? You must tell me all about it—tell me exactly how + she struck you. I’m so glad it turns out that you know her.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Know’ is rather exaggerated: we used to pass each other on the stairs.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle and Owen appeared together as he spoke, and Anna, + gathering up her wraps, said: “You’ll tell me about that, then. Try and + remember everything you can.” + </p> + <p> + As he tramped through the woods at his young host’s side, Darrow felt the + partial relief from thought produced by exercise and the obligation to + talk. Little as he cared for shooting, he had the habit of concentration + which makes it natural for a man to throw himself wholly into whatever + business he has in hand, and there were moments of the afternoon when a + sudden whirr in the undergrowth, a vivider gleam against the hazy browns + and greys of the woods, was enough to fill the foreground of his + attention. But all the while, behind these voluntarily emphasized + sensations, his secret consciousness continued to revolve on a loud wheel + of thought. For a time it seemed to be sweeping him through deep gulfs of + darkness. His sensations were too swift and swarming to be disentangled. + He had an almost physical sense of struggling for air, of battling + helplessly with material obstructions, as though the russet covert through + which he trudged were the heart of a maleficent jungle... + </p> + <p> + Snatches of his companion’s talk drifted to him intermittently through the + confusion of his thoughts. He caught eager self-revealing phrases, and + understood that Owen was saying things about himself, perhaps hinting + indirectly at the hopes for which Darrow had been prepared by Anna’s + confidences. He had already become aware that the lad liked him, and had + meant to take the first opportunity of showing that he reciprocated the + feeling. But the effort of fixing his attention on Owen’s words was so + great that it left no power for more than the briefest and most + inexpressive replies. + </p> + <p> + Young Leath, it appeared, felt that he had reached a turning-point in his + career, a height from which he could impartially survey his past progress + and projected endeavour. At one time he had had musical and literary + yearnings, visions of desultory artistic indulgence; but these had of late + been superseded by the resolute determination to plunge into practical + life. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want, you see,” Darrow heard him explaining, “to drift into what + my grandmother, poor dear, is trying to make of me: an adjunct of Givre. I + don’t want—hang it all!—to slip into collecting sensations as + my father collected snuff-boxes. I want Effie to have Givre—it’s my + grandmother’s, you know, to do as she likes with; and I’ve understood + lately that if it belonged to me it would gradually gobble me up. I want + to get out of it, into a life that’s big and ugly and struggling. If I can + extract beauty out of <i>that</i>, so much the better: that’ll prove my vocation. + But I want to <i>make</i> beauty, not be drowned in the ready-made, like a bee in + a pot of honey.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow knew that he was being appealed to for corroboration of these views + and for encouragement in the course to which they pointed. To his own ears + his answers sounded now curt, now irrelevant: at one moment he seemed + chillingly indifferent, at another he heard himself launching out on a + flood of hazy discursiveness. He dared not look at Owen, for fear of + detecting the lad’s surprise at these senseless transitions. And through + the confusion of his inward struggles and outward loquacity he heard the + ceaseless trip-hammer beat of the question: “What in God’s name shall I + do?”... + </p> + <p> + To get back to the house before Anna’s return seemed his most pressing + necessity. He did not clearly know why: he simply felt that he ought to be + there. At one moment it occurred to him that Miss Viner might want to + speak to him alone—and again, in the same flash, that it would + probably be the last thing she would want.... At any rate, he felt he ought + to try to speak to <i>her</i>; or at least be prepared to do so, if the chance + should occur... + </p> + <p> + Finally, toward four, he told his companion that he had some letters on + his mind and must get back to the house and despatch them before the + ladies returned. He left Owen with the beater and walked on to the edge of + the covert. At the park gates he struck obliquely through the trees, + following a grass avenue at the end of which he had caught a glimpse of + the roof of the chapel. A grey haze had blotted out the sun and the still + air clung about him tepidly. At length the house-front raised before him + its expanse of damp-silvered brick, and he was struck afresh by the high + decorum of its calm lines and soberly massed surfaces. It made him feel, + in the turbid coil of his fears and passions, like a muddy tramp forcing + his way into some pure sequestered shrine... + </p> + <p> + By and bye, he knew, he should have to think the complex horror out, + slowly, systematically, bit by bit; but for the moment it was whirling him + about so fast that he could just clutch at its sharp spikes and be tossed + off again. Only one definite immediate fact stuck in his quivering grasp. + He must give the girl every chance—must hold himself passive till + she had taken them... + </p> + <p> + In the court Effie ran up to him with her leaping terrier. + </p> + <p> + “I was coming out to meet you—you and Owen. Miss Viner was coming, + too, and then she couldn’t because she’s got such a headache. I’m afraid I + gave it to her because I did my division so disgracefully. It’s too bad, + isn’t it? But won’t you walk back with me? Nurse won’t mind the least bit; + she’d so much rather go in to tea.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow excused himself laughingly, on the plea that he had letters to + write, which was much worse than having a headache, and not infrequently + resulted in one. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then you can go and write them in Owen’s study. That’s where + gentlemen always write their letters.” + </p> + <p> + She flew on with her dog and Darrow pursued his way to the house. Effie’s + suggestion struck him as useful. He had pictured himself as vaguely + drifting about the drawing-rooms, and had perceived the difficulty of Miss + Viner’s having to seek him there; but the study, a small room on the right + of the hall, was in easy sight from the staircase, and so situated that + there would be nothing marked in his being found there in talk with her. + </p> + <p> + He went in, leaving the door open, and sat down at the writing-table. The + room was a friendly heterogeneous place, the one repository, in the + well-ordered and amply-servanted house, of all its unclassified odds and + ends: Effie’s croquet-box and fishing rods, Owen’s guns and golf-sticks + and racquets, his step-mother’s flower-baskets and gardening implements, + even Madame de Chantelle’s embroidery frame, and the back numbers of the + Catholic Weekly. The early twilight had begun to fall, and presently a + slanting ray across the desk showed Darrow that a servant was coming + across the hall with a lamp. He pulled out a sheet of note-paper and began + to write at random, while the man, entering, put the lamp at his elbow and + vaguely “straightened” the heap of newspapers tossed on the divan. Then + his steps died away and Darrow sat leaning his head on his locked hands. + </p> + <p> + Presently another step sounded on the stairs, wavered a moment and then + moved past the threshold of the study. Darrow got up and walked into the + hall, which was still unlighted. In the dimness he saw Sophy Viner + standing by the hall door in her hat and jacket. She stopped at sight of + him, her hand on the door-bolt, and they stood for a second without + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen Effie?” she suddenly asked. “She went out to meet you.” + </p> + <p> + “She <i>did</i> meet me, just now, in the court. She’s gone on to join her + brother.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow spoke as naturally as he could, but his voice sounded to his own + ears like an amateur actor’s in a “light” part. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner, without answering, drew back the bolt. He watched her in + silence as the door swung open; then he said: “She has her nurse with her. + She won’t be long.” + </p> + <p> + She stood irresolute, and he added: “I was writing in there—won’t + you come and have a little talk? Every one’s out.” + </p> + <p> + The last words struck him as not well-chosen, but there was no time to + choose. She paused a second longer and then crossed the threshold of the + study. At luncheon she had sat with her back to the window, and beyond + noting that she had grown a little thinner, and had less colour and + vivacity, he had seen no change in her; but now, as the lamplight fell on + her face, its whiteness startled him. + </p> + <p> + “Poor thing ... poor thing ... what in heaven’s name can she suppose?” he + wondered. + </p> + <p> + “Do sit down—I want to talk to you,” he said and pushed a chair + toward her. + </p> + <p> + She did not seem to see it, or, if she did, she deliberately chose another + seat. He came back to his own chair and leaned his elbows on the blotter. + She faced him from the farther side of the table. + </p> + <p> + “You promised to let me hear from you now and then,” he began awkwardly, + and with a sharp sense of his awkwardness. + </p> + <p> + A faint smile made her face more tragic. “Did I? There was nothing to + tell. I’ve had no history—like the happy countries...” + </p> + <p> + He waited a moment before asking: “You <i>are</i> happy here?” + </p> + <p> + “I <i>was</i>,” she said with a faint emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say ‘was’? You’re surely not thinking of going? There can’t be + kinder people anywhere.” Darrow hardly knew what he was saying; but her + answer came to him with deadly definiteness. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it depends on you whether I go or stay.” + </p> + <p> + “On me?” He stared at her across Owen’s scattered papers. “Good God! What + can you think of me, to say that?” + </p> + <p> + The mockery of the question flashed back at him from her wretched face. + She stood up, wandered away, and leaned an instant in the darkening + window-frame. From there she turned to fling back at him: “Don’t imagine + I’m the least bit sorry for anything!” + </p> + <p> + He steadied his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands. It was + harder, oh, damnably harder, than he had expected! Arguments, expedients, + palliations, evasions, all seemed to be slipping away from him: he was + left face to face with the mere graceless fact of his inferiority. He + lifted his head to ask at random: “You’ve been here, then, ever since?” + </p> + <p> + “Since June; yes. It turned out that the Farlows were hunting for me—all + the while—for this.” + </p> + <p> + She stood facing him, her back to the window, evidently impatient to be + gone, yet with something still to say, or that she expected to hear him + say. The sense of her expectancy benumbed him. What in heaven’s name could + he say to her that was not an offense or a mockery? + </p> + <p> + “Your idea of the theatre—you gave that up at once, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the theatre!” She gave a little laugh. “I couldn’t wait for the + theatre. I had to take the first thing that offered; I took this.” + </p> + <p> + He pushed on haltingly: “I’m glad—extremely glad—you’re happy + here.... I’d counted on your letting me know if there was anything I could + do.... The theatre, now—if you still regret it—if you’re not + contented here.... I know people in that line in London—I’m certain I + can manage it for you when I get back——” + </p> + <p> + She moved up to the table and leaned over it to ask, in a voice that was + hardly above a whisper: “Then you <i>do</i> want me to leave? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + He dropped his arms with a groan. “Good heavens! How can you think such + things? At the time, you know, I begged you to let me do what I could, but + you wouldn’t hear of it ... and ever since I’ve been wanting to be of use—to + do something, anything, to help you...” + </p> + <p> + She heard him through, motionless, without a quiver of the clasped hands + she rested on the edge of the table. + </p> + <p> + “If you want to help me, then—you can help me to stay here,” she + brought out with low-toned intensity. + </p> + <p> + Through the stillness of the pause which followed, the bray of a + motor-horn sounded far down the drive. Instantly she turned, with a last + white look at him, and fled from the room and up the stairs. He stood + motionless, benumbed by the shock of her last words. She was afraid, then—afraid + of him—sick with fear of him! The discovery beat him down to a lower + depth... + </p> + <p> + The motor-horn sounded again, close at hand, and he turned and went up to + his room. His letter-writing was a sufficient pretext for not immediately + joining the party about the tea-table, and he wanted to be alone and try + to put a little order into his tumultuous thinking. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs, the room held out the intimate welcome of its lamp and fire. + Everything in it exhaled the same sense of peace and stability which, two + evenings before, had lulled him to complacent meditation. His armchair + again invited him from the hearth, but he was too agitated to sit still, + and with sunk head and hands clasped behind his back he began to wander up + and down the room. + </p> + <p> + His five minutes with Sophy Viner had flashed strange lights into the + shadowy corners of his consciousness. The girl’s absolute candour, her + hard ardent honesty, was for the moment the vividest point in his + thoughts. He wondered anew, as he had wondered before, at the way in which + the harsh discipline of life had stripped her of false sentiment without + laying the least touch on her pride. When they had parted, five months + before, she had quietly but decidedly rejected all his offers of help, + even to the suggestion of his trying to further her theatrical aims: she + had made it clear that she wished their brief alliance to leave no trace + on their lives save that of its own smiling memory. But now that they were + unexpectedly confronted in a situation which seemed, to her terrified + fancy, to put her at his mercy, her first impulse was to defend her right + to the place she had won, and to learn as quickly as possible if he meant + to dispute it. While he had pictured her as shrinking away from him in a + tremor of self-effacement she had watched his movements, made sure of her + opportunity, and come straight down to “have it out” with him. He was so + struck by the frankness and energy of the proceeding that for a moment he + lost sight of the view of his own character implied in it. + </p> + <p> + “Poor thing ... poor thing!” he could only go on saying; and with the + repetition of the words the picture of himself as she must see him + pitiably took shape again. + </p> + <p> + He understood then, for the first time, how vague, in comparison with + hers, had been his own vision of the part he had played in the brief + episode of their relation. The incident had left in him a sense of + exasperation and self-contempt, but that, as he now perceived, was + chiefly, if not altogether, as it bore on his preconceived ideal of his + attitude toward another woman. He had fallen below his own standard of + sentimental loyalty, and if he thought of Sophy Viner it was mainly as the + chance instrument of his lapse. These considerations were not agreeable to + his pride, but they were forced on him by the example of her valiant + common-sense. If he had cut a sorry figure in the business, he owed it to + her not to close his eyes to the fact any longer... + </p> + <p> + But when he opened them, what did he see? The situation, detestable at + best, would yet have been relatively simple if protecting Sophy Viner had + been the only duty involved in it. The fact that that duty was paramount + did not do away with the contingent obligations. It was Darrow’s instinct, + in difficult moments, to go straight to the bottom of the difficulty; but + he had never before had to take so dark a dive as this, and for the minute + he shivered on the brink.... Well, his first duty, at any rate, was to the + girl: he must let her see that he meant to fulfill it to the last jot, and + then try to find out how to square the fulfillment with the other problems + already in his path... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI + </h2> + <p> + In the oak room he found Mrs. Leath, her mother-in-law and Effie. The + group, as he came toward it down the long drawing-rooms, composed itself + prettily about the tea-table. The lamps and the fire crossed their gleams + on silver and porcelain, on the bright haze of Effie’s hair and on the + whiteness of Anna’s forehead, as she leaned back in her chair behind the + tea-urn. + </p> + <p> + She did not move at Darrow’s approach, but lifted to him a deep gaze of + peace and confidence. The look seemed to throw about him the spell of a + divine security: he felt the joy of a convalescent suddenly waking to find + the sunlight on his face. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle, across her knitting, discoursed of their afternoon’s + excursion, with occasional pauses induced by the hypnotic effect of the + fresh air; and Effie, kneeling, on the hearth, softly but insistently + sought to implant in her terrier’s mind some notion of the relation + between a vertical attitude and sugar. + </p> + <p> + Darrow took a chair behind the little girl, so that he might look across + at her mother. It was almost a necessity for him, at the moment, to let + his eyes rest on Anna’s face, and to meet, now and then, the proud shyness + of her gaze. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle presently enquired what had become of Owen, and a + moment later the window behind her opened, and her grandson, gun in hand, + came in from the terrace. As he stood there in the lamp-light, with dead + leaves and bits of bramble clinging to his mud-spattered clothes, the + scent of the night about him and its chill on his pale bright face, he + really had the look of a young faun strayed in from the forest. + </p> + <p> + Effie abandoned the terrier to fly to him. “Oh, Owen, where in the world + have you been? I walked miles and miles with Nurse and couldn’t find you, + and we met Jean and he said he didn’t know where you’d gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody knows where I go, or what I see when I get there—that’s the + beauty of it!” he laughed back at her. “But if you’re good,” he added, + “I’ll tell you about it one of these days.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, Owen, now! I don’t really believe I’ll ever be much better than + I am now.” + </p> + <p> + “Let Owen have his tea first,” her mother suggested; but the young man, + declining the offer, propped his gun against the wall, and, lighting a + cigarette, began to pace up and down the room in a way that reminded + Darrow of his own caged wanderings. Effie pursued him with her + blandishments, and for a while he poured out to her a low-voiced stream of + nonsense; then he sat down beside his step-mother and leaned over to help + himself to tea. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Miss Viner?” he asked, as Effie climbed up on him. “Why isn’t she + here to chain up this ungovernable infant?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Miss Viner has a headache. Effie says she went to her room as soon + as lessons were over, and sent word that she wouldn’t be down for tea.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Owen, abruptly setting down his cup. He stood up, lit another + cigarette, and wandered away to the piano in the room beyond. + </p> + <p> + From the twilight where he sat a lonely music, borne on fantastic chords, + floated to the group about the tea-table. Under its influence Madame de + Chantelle’s meditative pauses increased in length and frequency, and Effie + stretched herself on the hearth, her drowsy head against the dog. + Presently her nurse appeared, and Anna rose at the same time. “Stop a + minute in my sitting-room on your way up,” she paused to say to Darrow as + she went. + </p> + <p> + A few hours earlier, her request would have brought him instantly to his + feet. She had given him, on the day of his arrival, an inviting glimpse of + the spacious book-lined room above stairs in which she had gathered + together all the tokens of her personal tastes: the retreat in which, as + one might fancy, Anna Leath had hidden the restless ghost of Anna Summers; + and the thought of a talk with her there had been in his mind ever since. + But now he sat motionless, as if spell-bound by the play of Madame de + Chantelle’s needles and the pulsations of Owen’s fitful music. + </p> + <p> + “She will want to ask me about the girl,” he repeated to himself, with a + fresh sense of the insidious taint that embittered all his thoughts; the + hand of the slender-columned clock on the mantel-piece had spanned a + half-hour before shame at his own indecision finally drew him to his feet. + </p> + <p> + From her writing-table, where she sat over a pile of letters, Anna lifted + her happy smile. The impulse to press his lips to it made him come close + and draw her upward. She threw her head back, as if surprised at the + abruptness of the gesture; then her face leaned to his with the slow droop + of a flower. He felt again the sweep of the secret tides, and all his + fears went down in them. + </p> + <p> + She sat down in the sofa-corner by the fire and he drew an armchair close + to her. His gaze roamed peacefully about the quiet room. + </p> + <p> + “It’s just like you—it is you,” he said, as his eyes came back to + her. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a good place to be alone in—I don’t think I’ve ever before + cared to talk with any one here.” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s be quiet, then: it’s the best way of talking.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but we must save it up till later. There are things I want to say to + you now.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned back in his chair. “Say them, then, and I’ll listen.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. I want you to tell me about Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + “About Miss Viner?” He summoned up a look of faint interrogation. + </p> + <p> + He thought she seemed surprised at his surprise. “It’s important, + naturally,” she explained, “that I should find out all I can about her + before I leave.” + </p> + <p> + “Important on Effie’s account?” + </p> + <p> + “On Effie’s account—of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course.... But you’ve every reason to be satisfied, haven’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Every apparent reason. We all like her. Effie’s very fond of her, and she + seems to have a delightful influence on the child. But we know so little, + after all—about her antecedents, I mean, and her past history. + That’s why I want you to try and recall everything you heard about her + when you used to see her in London.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, on that score I’m afraid I sha’n’t be of much use. As I told you, she + was a mere shadow in the background of the house I saw her in—and + that was four or five years ago...” + </p> + <p> + “When she was with a Mrs. Murrett?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; an appalling woman who runs a roaring dinner-factory that used now + and then to catch me in its wheels. I escaped from them long ago; but in + my time there used to be half a dozen fagged ‘hands’ to tend the machine, + and Miss Viner was one of them. I’m glad she’s out of it, poor girl!” + “Then you never really saw anything of her there?” + </p> + <p> + “I never had the chance. Mrs. Murrett discouraged any competition on the + part of her subordinates.” + </p> + <p> + “Especially such pretty ones, I suppose?” Darrow made no comment, and she + continued: “And Mrs. Murrett’s own opinion—if she’d offered you one—probably + wouldn’t have been of much value?” + </p> + <p> + “Only in so far as her disapproval would, on general principles, have been + a good mark for Miss Viner. But surely,” he went on after a pause, “you + could have found out about her from the people through whom you first + heard of her?” + </p> + <p> + Anna smiled. “Oh, we heard of her through Adelaide Painter—;” and in + reply to his glance of interrogation she explained that the lady in + question was a spinster of South Braintree, Massachusetts, who, having + come to Paris some thirty years earlier, to nurse a brother through an + illness, had ever since protestingly and provisionally camped there in a + state of contemptuous protestation oddly manifested by her never taking + the slip-covers off her drawing-room chairs. Her long residence on Gallic + soil had not mitigated her hostility toward the creed and customs of the + race, but though she always referred to the Catholic Church as the Scarlet + Woman and took the darkest views of French private life, Madame de + Chantelle placed great reliance on her judgment and experience, and in + every domestic crisis the irreducible Adelaide was immediately summoned to + Givre. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all the odder because my mother-in-law, since her second marriage, + has lived so much in the country that she’s practically lost sight of all + her other American friends. Besides which, you can see how completely she + has identified herself with Monsieur de Chantelle’s nationality and + adopted French habits and prejudices. Yet when anything goes wrong she + always sends for Adelaide Painter, who’s more American than the Stars and + Stripes, and might have left South Braintree yesterday, if she hadn’t, + rather, brought it over with her in her trunk.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow laughed. “Well, then, if South Braintree vouches for Miss Viner——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but only indirectly. When we had that odious adventure with + Mademoiselle Grumeau, who’d been so highly recommended by Monsieur de + Chantelle’s aunt, the Chanoinesse, Adelaide was of course sent for, and + she said at once: ‘I’m not the least bit surprised. I’ve always told you + that what you wanted for Effie was a sweet American girl, and not one of + these nasty foreigners.’ Unluckily she couldn’t, at the moment, put her + hand on a sweet American; but she presently heard of Miss Viner through + the Farlows, an excellent couple who live in the Quartier Latin and write + about French life for the American papers. I was only too thankful to find + anyone who was vouched for by decent people; and so far I’ve had no cause + to regret my choice. But I know, after all, very little about Miss Viner; + and there are all kinds of reasons why I want, as soon as possible, to + find out more—to find out all I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Since you’ve got to leave Effie I understand your feeling in that way. + But is there, in such a case, any recommendation worth half as much as + your own direct experience?” + </p> + <p> + “No; and it’s been so favourable that I was ready to accept it as + conclusive. Only, naturally, when I found you’d known her in London I was + in hopes you’d give me some more specific reasons for liking her as much + as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid I can give you nothing more specific than my general vague + impression that she seems very plucky and extremely nice.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t, at any rate, know anything specific to the contrary?” + </p> + <p> + “To the contrary? How should I? I’m not conscious of ever having heard any + one say two words about her. I only infer that she must have pluck and + character to have stuck it out so long at Mrs. Murrett’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, poor thing! She has pluck, certainly; and pride, too; which must + have made it all the harder.” Anna rose to her feet. “You don’t know how + glad I am that your impression’s on the whole so good. I particularly + wanted you to like her.” + </p> + <p> + He drew her to him with a smile. “On that condition I’m prepared to love + even Adelaide Painter.” + </p> + <p> + “I almost hope you wont have the chance to—poor Adelaide! Her + appearance here always coincides with a catastrophe.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then I must manage to meet her elsewhere.” He held Anna closer, + saying to himself, as he smoothed back the hair from her forehead: “What + does anything matter but just <i>this</i>?—Must I go now?” he added aloud. + </p> + <p> + She answered absently: “It must be time to dress”; then she drew back a + little and laid her hands on his shoulders. “My love—oh, my dear + love!” she said. + </p> + <p> + It came to him that they were the first words of endearment he had heard + her speak, and their rareness gave them a magic quality of reassurance, as + though no danger could strike through such a shield. + </p> + <p> + A knock on the door made them draw apart. Anna lifted her hand to her hair + and Darrow stooped to examine a photograph of Effie on the writing-table. + </p> + <p> + “Come in!” Anna said. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Sophy Viner entered. Seeing Darrow, she drew back. + </p> + <p> + “Do come in, Miss Viner,” Anna repeated, looking at her kindly. + </p> + <p> + The girl, a quick red in her cheeks, still hesitated on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry; but Effie has mislaid her Latin grammar, and I thought she + might have left it here. I need it to prepare for tomorrow’s lesson.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this it?” Darrow asked, picking up a book from the table. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you!” + </p> + <p> + He held it out to her and she took it and moved to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, please, Miss Viner,” Anna said; and as the girl turned + back, she went on with her quiet smile: “Effie told us you’d gone to your + room with a headache. You mustn’t sit up over tomorrow’s lessons if you + don’t feel well.” + </p> + <p> + Sophy’s blush deepened. “But you see I have to. Latin’s one of my weak + points, and there’s generally only one page of this book between me and + Effie.” She threw the words off with a half-ironic smile. “Do excuse my + disturbing you,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t disturb me,” Anna answered. Darrow perceived that she was + looking intently at the girl, as though struck by something tense and + tremulous in her face, her voice, her whole mien and attitude. “You <i>do</i> + look tired. You’d much better go straight to bed. Effie won’t be sorry to + skip her Latin.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you—but I’m really all right,” murmured Sophy Viner. Her + glance, making a swift circuit of the room, dwelt for an appreciable + instant on the intimate propinquity of arm-chair and sofa-corner; then she + turned back to the door. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII + </h2> + <p> + At dinner that evening Madame de Chantelle’s slender monologue was thrown + out over gulfs of silence. Owen was still in the same state of moody + abstraction as when Darrow had left him at the piano; and even Anna’s + face, to her friend’s vigilant eye, revealed not, perhaps, a personal + preoccupation, but a vague sense of impending disturbance. + </p> + <p> + She smiled, she bore a part in the talk, her eyes dwelt on Darrow’s with + their usual deep reliance; but beneath the surface of her serenity his + tense perceptions detected a hidden stir. + </p> + <p> + He was sufficiently self-possessed to tell himself that it was doubtless + due to causes with which he was not directly concerned. He knew the + question of Owen’s marriage was soon to be raised, and the abrupt + alteration in the young man’s mood made it seem probable that he was + himself the centre of the atmospheric disturbance. For a moment it + occurred to Darrow that Anna might have employed her afternoon in + preparing Madame de Chantelle for her grandson’s impending announcement; + but a glance at the elder lady’s unclouded brow showed that he must seek + elsewhere the clue to Owen’s taciturnity and his step-mother’s concern. + Possibly Anna had found reason to change her own attitude in the matter, + and had made the change known to Owen. But this, again, was negatived by + the fact that, during the afternoon’s shooting, young Leath had been in a + mood of almost extravagant expansiveness, and that, from the moment of his + late return to the house till just before dinner, there had been, to + Darrow’s certain knowledge, no possibility of a private talk between + himself and his step-mother. + </p> + <p> + This obscured, if it narrowed, the field of conjecture; and Darrow’s + gropings threw him back on the conclusion that he was probably reading too + much significance into the moods of a lad he hardly knew, and who had been + described to him as subject to sudden changes of humour. As to Anna’s + fancied perturbation, it might simply be due to the fact that she had + decided to plead Owen’s cause the next day, and had perhaps already had a + glimpse of the difficulties awaiting her. But Darrow knew that he was too + deep in his own perplexities to judge the mental state of those about him. + It might be, after all, that the variations he felt in the currents of + communication were caused by his own inward tremor. + </p> + <p> + Such, at any rate, was the conclusion he had reached when, shortly after + the two ladies left the drawing-room, he bade Owen good-night and went up + to his room. Ever since the rapid self-colloquy which had followed on his + first sight of Sophy Viner, he had known there were other questions to be + faced behind the one immediately confronting him. On the score of that + one, at least, his mind, if not easy, was relieved. He had done what was + possible to reassure the girl, and she had apparently recognized the + sincerity of his intention. He had patched up as decent a conclusion as he + could to an incident that should obviously have had no sequel; but he had + known all along that with the securing of Miss Viner’s peace of mind only + a part of his obligation was discharged, and that with that part his + remaining duty was in conflict. It had been his first business to convince + the girl that their secret was safe with him; but it was far from easy to + square this with the equally urgent obligation of safe-guarding Anna’s + responsibility toward her child. Darrow was not much afraid of accidental + disclosures. Both he and Sophy Viner had too much at stake not to be on + their guard. The fear that beset him was of another kind, and had a + profounder source. He wanted to do all he could for the girl, but the fact + of having had to urge Anna to confide Effie to her was peculiarly + repugnant to him. His own ideas about Sophy Viner were too mixed and + indeterminate for him not to feel the risk of such an experiment; yet he + found himself in the intolerable position of appearing to press it on the + woman he desired above all others to protect... + </p> + <p> + Till late in the night his thoughts revolved in a turmoil of indecision. + His pride was humbled by the discrepancy between what Sophy Viner had been + to him and what he had thought of her. This discrepancy, which at the time + had seemed to simplify the incident, now turned out to be its most galling + complication. The bare truth, indeed, was that he had hardly thought of + her at all, either at the time or since, and that he was ashamed to base + his judgement of her on his meagre memory of their adventure. + </p> + <p> + The essential cheapness of the whole affair—as far as his share in + it was concerned—came home to him with humiliating distinctness. He + would have liked to be able to feel that, at the time at least, he had + staked something more on it, and had somehow, in the sequel, had a more + palpable loss to show. But the plain fact was that he hadn’t spent a penny + on it; which was no doubt the reason of the prodigious score it had since + been rolling up. At any rate, beat about the case as he would, it was + clear that he owed it to Anna—and incidentally to his own peace of + mind—to find some way of securing Sophy Viner’s future without + leaving her installed at Givre when he and his wife should depart for + their new post. + </p> + <p> + The night brought no aid to the solving of this problem; but it gave him, + at any rate, the clear conviction that no time was to be lost. His first + step must be to obtain from Miss Viner the chance of another and calmer + talk; and he resolved to seek it at the earliest hour. + </p> + <p> + He had gathered that Effie’s lessons were preceded by an early scamper in + the park, and conjecturing that her governess might be with her he betook + himself the next morning to the terrace, whence he wandered on to the + gardens and the walks beyond. + </p> + <p> + The atmosphere was still and pale. The muffled sunlight gleamed like gold + tissue through grey gauze, and the beech alleys tapered away to a blue + haze blent of sky and forest. It was one of those elusive days when the + familiar forms of things seem about to dissolve in a prismatic shimmer. + </p> + <p> + The stillness was presently broken by joyful barks, and Darrow, tracking + the sound, overtook Effie flying down one of the long alleys at the head + of her pack. Beyond her he saw Miss Viner seated near the stone-rimmed + basin beside which he and Anna had paused on their first walk to the + river. + </p> + <p> + The girl, coming forward at his approach, returned his greeting almost + gaily. His first glance showed him that she had regained her composure, + and the change in her appearance gave him the measure of her fears. For + the first time he saw in her again the sidelong grace that had charmed his + eyes in Paris; but he saw it now as in a painted picture. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we sit down a minute?” he asked, as Effie trotted off. + </p> + <p> + The girl looked away from him. “I’m afraid there’s not much time; we must + be back at lessons at half-past nine.” + </p> + <p> + “But it’s barely ten minutes past. Let’s at least walk a little way toward + the river.” + </p> + <p> + She glanced down the long walk ahead of them and then back in the + direction of the house. “If you like,” she said in a low voice, with one + of her quick fluctuations of colour; but instead of taking the way he + proposed she turned toward a narrow path which branched off obliquely + through the trees. + </p> + <p> + Darrow was struck, and vaguely troubled, by the change in her look and + tone. There was in them an undefinable appeal, whether for help or + forbearance he could not tell. Then it occurred to him that there might + have been something misleading in his so pointedly seeking her, and he + felt a momentary constraint. To ease it he made an abrupt dash at the + truth. + </p> + <p> + “I came out to look for you because our talk of yesterday was so + unsatisfactory. I want to hear more about you—about your plans and + prospects. I’ve been wondering ever since why you’ve so completely given + up the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + Her face instantly sharpened to distrust. “I had to live,” she said in an + off-hand tone. + </p> + <p> + “I understand perfectly that you should like it here—for a time.” + His glance strayed down the gold-roofed windings ahead of them. “It’s + delightful: you couldn’t be better placed. Only I wonder a little at your + having so completely given up any idea of a different future.” + </p> + <p> + She waited for a moment before answering: “I suppose I’m less restless + than I used to be.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s certainly natural that you should be less restless here than at Mrs. + Murrett’s; yet somehow I don’t seem to see you permanently given up to + forming the young.” + </p> + <p> + “What—exactly—DO you seem to see me permanently given up to? + You know you warned me rather emphatically against the theatre.” She threw + off the statement without impatience, as though they were discussing + together the fate of a third person in whom both were benevolently + interested. Darrow considered his reply. “If I did, it was because you so + emphatically refused to let me help you to a start.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short and faced him “And you think I may let you now?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow felt the blood in his cheek. He could not understand her attitude—if + indeed she had consciously taken one, and her changes of tone did not + merely reflect the involuntary alternations of her mood. It humbled him to + perceive once more how little he had to guide him in his judgment of her. + He said to himself: “If I’d ever cared a straw for her I should know how + to avoid hurting her now”—and his insensibility struck him as no + better than a vulgar obtuseness. But he had a fixed purpose ahead and + could only push on to it. + </p> + <p> + “I hope, at any rate, you’ll listen to my reasons. There’s been time, on + both sides, to think them over since——” He caught himself back + and hung helpless on the “since”: whatever words he chose, he seemed to + stumble among reminders of their past. + </p> + <p> + She walked on beside him, her eyes on the ground. “Then I’m to understand—definitely—that + you <i>do</i> renew your offer?” she asked + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart! If you’ll only let me——” + </p> + <p> + She raised a hand, as though to check him. “It’s extremely friendly of you—I + <i>do</i> believe you mean it as a friend—but I don’t quite understand why, + finding me, as you say, so well placed here, you should show more anxiety + about my future than at a time when I was actually, and rather + desperately, adrift.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not more!” + </p> + <p> + “If you show any at all, it must, at any rate, be for different reasons.—In + fact, it can only be,” she went on, with one of her disconcerting flashes + of astuteness, “for one of two reasons; either because you feel you ought + to help me, or because, for some reason, you think you owe it to Mrs. + Leath to let her know what you know of me.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow stood still in the path. Behind him he heard Effie’s call, and at + the child’s voice he saw Sophy turn her head with the alertness of one who + is obscurely on the watch. The look was so fugitive that he could not have + said wherein it differed from her normal professional air of having her + pupil on her mind. + </p> + <p> + Effie sprang past them, and Darrow took up the girl’s challenge. + </p> + <p> + “What you suggest about Mrs. Leath is hardly worth answering. As to my + reasons for wanting to help you, a good deal depends on the words one uses + to define rather indefinite things. It’s true enough that I want to help + you; but the wish isn’t due to ... to any past kindness on your part, but + simply to my own interest in you. Why not put it that our friendship gives + me the right to intervene for what I believe to be your benefit?” + </p> + <p> + She took a few hesitating steps and then paused again. Darrow noticed that + she had grown pale and that there were rings of shade about her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve known Mrs. Leath a long time?” she asked him suddenly. + </p> + <p> + He paused with a sense of approaching peril. “A long time—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “She told me you were friends—great friends” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted, “we’re great friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you might naturally feel yourself justified in telling her that you + don’t think I’m the right person for Effie.” He uttered a sound of + protest, but she disregarded it. “I don’t say you’d <i>like</i> to do it. You + wouldn’t: you’d hate it. And the natural alternative would be to try to + persuade me that I’d be better off somewhere else than here. But supposing + that failed, and you saw I was determined to stay? <i>then</i> you might think it + your duty to tell Mrs. Leath.” + </p> + <p> + She laid the case before him with a cold lucidity. “I should, in your + place, I believe,” she ended with a little laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn’t feel justified in telling her, behind your back, if I thought + you unsuited for the place; but I should certainly feel justified,” he + rejoined after a pause, “in telling <i>you</i> if I thought the place unsuited to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “And that’s what you’re trying to tell me now?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but not for the reasons you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + “What, then, are your reasons, if you please?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve already implied them in advising you not to give up all idea of the + theatre. You’re too various, too gifted, too personal, to tie yourself + down, at your age, to the dismal drudgery of teaching.” + </p> + <p> + “And is <i>that</i> what you’ve told Mrs. Leath?” + </p> + <p> + She rushed the question out at him as if she expected to trip him up over + it. He was moved by the simplicity of the stratagem. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told her exactly nothing,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “And what—exactly—do you mean by ‘nothing’? You and she were + talking about me when I came into her sitting-room yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow felt his blood rise at the thrust. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told her, simply, that I’d seen you once or twice at Mrs. + Murrett’s.” + </p> + <p> + “And not that you’ve ever seen me since?” + </p> + <p> + “And not that I’ve ever seen you since...” + </p> + <p> + “And she believes you—she completely believes you?” + </p> + <p> + He uttered a protesting exclamation, and his flush reflected itself in the + girl’s cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon! I didn’t mean to ask you that.” She halted, and + again cast a rapid glance behind and ahead of her. Then she held out her + hand. “Well, then, thank you—and let me relieve your fears. I + sha’n’t be Effie’s governess much longer.” + </p> + <p> + At the announcement, Darrow tried to merge his look of relief into the + expression of friendly interest with which he grasped her hand. “You + really do agree with me, then? And you’ll give me a chance to talk things + over with you?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head with a faint smile. “I’m not thinking of the stage. + I’ve had another offer: that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + The relief was hardly less great. After all, his personal responsibility + ceased with her departure from Givre. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll tell me about that, then—won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + Her smile flickered up. “Oh, you’ll hear about it soon.... I must catch + Effie now and drag her back to the blackboard.” + </p> + <p> + She walked on for a few yards, and then paused again and confronted him. + “I’ve been odious to you—and not quite honest,” she broke out + suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite honest?” he repeated, caught in a fresh wave of wonder. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, in seeming not to trust you. It’s come over me again as we talked + that, at heart, I’ve always <i>known</i> I could...” + </p> + <p> + Her colour rose in a bright wave, and her eyes clung to his for a swift + instant of reminder and appeal. For the same space of time the past surged + up in him confusedly; then a veil dropped between them. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s Effie now!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + He turned and saw the little girl trotting back to them, her hand in Owen + Leath’s. Even through the stir of his subsiding excitement Darrow was at + once aware of the change effected by the young man’s approach. For a + moment Sophy Viner’s cheeks burned redder; then they faded to the paleness + of white petals. She lost, however, nothing of the bright bravery which it + was her way to turn on the unexpected. Perhaps no one less familiar with + her face than Darrow would have discerned the tension of the smile she + transferred from himself to Owen Leath, or have remarked that her eyes had + hardened from misty grey to a shining darkness. But her observer was less + struck by this than by the corresponding change in Owen Leath. The latter, + when he came in sight, had been laughing and talking unconcernedly with + Effie; but as his eye fell on Miss Viner his expression altered as + suddenly as hers. + </p> + <p> + The change, for Darrow, was less definable; but, perhaps for that reason, + it struck him as more sharply significant. Only—just what did it + signify? Owen, like Sophy Viner, had the kind of face which seems less the + stage on which emotions move than the very stuff they work in. In moments + of excitement his odd irregular features seemed to grow fluid, to unmake + and remake themselves like the shadows of clouds on a stream. Darrow, + through the rapid flight of the shadows, could not seize on any specific + indication of feeling: he merely perceived that the young man was + unaccountably surprised at finding him with Miss Viner, and that the + extent of his surprise might cover all manner of implications. + </p> + <p> + Darrow’s first idea was that Owen, if he suspected that the conversation + was not the result of an accidental encounter, might wonder at his + step-mother’s suitor being engaged, at such an hour, in private talk with + her little girl’s governess. The thought was so disturbing that, as the + three turned back to the house, he was on the point of saying to Owen: “I + came out to look for your mother.” But, in the contingency he feared, even + so simple a phrase might seem like an awkward attempt at explanation; and + he walked on in silence at Miss Viner’s side. Presently he was struck by + the fact that Owen Leath and the girl were silent also; and this gave a + new turn to his thoughts. Silence may be as variously shaded as speech; + and that which enfolded Darrow and his two companions seemed to his + watchful perceptions to be quivering with cross-threads of communication. + At first he was aware only of those that centred in his own troubled + consciousness; then it occurred to him that an equal activity of + intercourse was going on outside of it. Something was in fact passing + mutely and rapidly between young Leath and Sophy Viner; but what it was, + and whither it tended, Darrow, when they reached the house, was but just + beginning to divine... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII + </h2> + <p> + Anna Leath, from the terrace, watched the return of the little group. + </p> + <p> + She looked down on them, as they advanced across the garden, from the + serene height of her unassailable happiness. There they were, coming + toward her in the mild morning light, her child, her step-son, her + promised husband: the three beings who filled her life. She smiled a + little at the happy picture they presented, Effie’s gambols encircling it + in a moving frame within which the two men came slowly forward in the + silence of friendly understanding. It seemed part of the deep intimacy of + the scene that they should not be talking to each other, and it did not + till afterward strike her as odd that neither of them apparently felt it + necessary to address a word to Sophy Viner. + </p> + <p> + Anna herself, at the moment, was floating in the mid-current of felicity, + on a tide so bright and buoyant that she seemed to be one with its warm + waves. The first rush of bliss had stunned and dazzled her; but now that, + each morning, she woke to the calm certainty of its recurrence, she was + growing used to the sense of security it gave. + </p> + <p> + “I feel as if I could trust my happiness to carry me; as if it had grown + out of me like wings.” So she phrased it to Darrow, as, later in the + morning, they paced the garden-paths together. His answering look gave her + the same assurance of safety. The evening before he had seemed + preoccupied, and the shadow of his mood had faintly encroached on the + great golden orb of their blessedness; but now it was uneclipsed again, + and hung above them high and bright as the sun at noon. + </p> + <p> + Upstairs in her sitting-room, that afternoon, she was thinking of these + things. The morning mists had turned to rain, compelling the postponement + of an excursion in which the whole party were to have joined. Effie, with + her governess, had been despatched in the motor to do some shopping at + Francheuil; and Anna had promised Darrow to join him, later in the + afternoon, for a quick walk in the rain. + </p> + <p> + He had gone to his room after luncheon to get some belated letters off his + conscience; and when he had left her she had continued to sit in the same + place, her hands crossed on her knees, her head slightly bent, in an + attitude of brooding retrospection. As she looked back at her past life, + it seemed to her to have consisted of one ceaseless effort to pack into + each hour enough to fill out its slack folds; but now each moment was like + a miser’s bag stretched to bursting with pure gold. + </p> + <p> + She was roused by the sound of Owen’s step in the gallery outside her + room. It paused at her door and in answer to his knock she called out + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + As the door closed behind him she was struck by his look of pale + excitement, and an impulse of compunction made her say: “You’ve come to + ask me why I haven’t spoken to your grandmother!” He sent about him a + glance vaguely reminding her of the strange look with which Sophy Viner + had swept the room the night before; then his brilliant eyes came back to + her. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve spoken to her myself,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Anna started up, incredulous. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve spoken to her? When?” + </p> + <p> + “Just now. I left her to come here.” + </p> + <p> + Anna’s first feeling was one of annoyance. There was really something + comically incongruous in this boyish surrender to impulse on the part of a + young man so eager to assume the responsibilities of life. She looked at + him with a faintly veiled amusement. + </p> + <p> + “You asked me to help you and I promised you I would. It was hardly worth + while to work out such an elaborate plan of action if you intended to take + the matter out of my hands without telling me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t take that tone with me!” he broke out, almost angrily. + </p> + <p> + “That tone? What tone?” She stared at his quivering face. “I might,” she + pursued, still half-laughing, “more properly make that request of <i>you</i>!” + </p> + <p> + Owen reddened and his vehemence suddenly subsided. + </p> + <p> + “I meant that I <i>had</i> to speak—that’s all. You don’t give me a chance + to explain...” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him gently, wondering a little at her own impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Owen! Don’t I always want to give you every chance? It’s because I <i>do</i> + that I wanted to talk to your grandmother first—that I was waiting + and watching for the right moment...” + </p> + <p> + “The right moment? So was I. That’s why I’ve spoken.” His voice rose again + and took the sharp edge it had in moments of high pressure. + </p> + <p> + His step-mother turned away and seated herself in her sofa-corner. “Oh, my + dear, it’s not a privilege to quarrel over! You’ve taken a load off my + shoulders. Sit down and tell me all about it.” + </p> + <p> + He stood before her, irresolute. “I can’t sit down,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Walk about, then. Only tell me: I’m impatient.” + </p> + <p> + His immediate response was to throw himself into the armchair at her side, + where he lounged for a moment without speaking, his legs stretched out, + his arms locked behind his thrown-back head. Anna, her eyes on his face, + waited quietly for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Well—of course it was just what one expected.” + </p> + <p> + “She takes it so badly, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “All the heavy batteries were brought up: my father, Givre, Monsieur de + Chantelle, the throne and the altar. Even my poor mother was dragged out + of oblivion and armed with imaginary protests.” + </p> + <p> + Anna sighed out her sympathy. “Well—you were prepared for all that?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I was, till I began to hear her say it. Then it sounded so + incredibly silly that I told her so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Owen—Owen!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: I know. I was a fool; but I couldn’t help it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you’ve mortally offended her, I suppose? That’s exactly what I wanted + to prevent.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You tiresome boy, not to + wait and let me speak for you!” + </p> + <p> + He moved slightly away, so that her hand slipped from its place. “You + don’t understand,” he said, frowning. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how I can, till you explain. If you thought the time had come + to tell your grandmother, why not have asked me to do it? I had my reasons + for waiting; but if you’d told me to speak I should have done so, + naturally.” + </p> + <p> + He evaded her appeal by a sudden turn. “What <i>were</i> your reasons for + waiting?” + </p> + <p> + Anna did not immediately answer. Her step-son’s eyes were on her face, and + under his gaze she felt a faint disquietude. + </p> + <p> + “I was feeling my way.... I wanted to be absolutely sure...” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely sure of what?” + </p> + <p> + She delayed again for a just perceptible instant. “Why, simply of <i>our</i> side + of the case.” + </p> + <p> + “But you told me you were, the other day, when we talked it over before + they came back from Ouchy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear—if you think that, in such a complicated matter, every + day, every hour, doesn’t more or less modify one’s surest sureness!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I’m driving at. I want to know what has modified yours.” + </p> + <p> + She made a slight gesture of impatience. “What does it matter, now the + thing’s done? I don’t know that I could give any clear reason...” + </p> + <p> + He got to his feet and stood looking down on her with a tormented brow. + “But it’s absolutely necessary that you should.” + </p> + <p> + At his tone her impatience flared up. “It’s not necessary that I should + give you any explanation whatever, since you’ve taken the matter out of my + hands. All I can say is that I was trying to help you: that no other + thought ever entered my mind.” She paused a moment and then added: “If you + doubted it, you were right to do what you’ve done.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I never doubted <i>you</i>!” he retorted, with a fugitive stress on the + pronoun. His face had cleared to its old look of trust. “Don’t be offended + if I’ve seemed to,” he went on. “I can’t quite explain myself, + either ... it’s all a kind of tangle, isn’t it? That’s why I thought I’d + better speak at once; or rather why I didn’t think at all, but just + suddenly blurted the thing out——” + </p> + <p> + Anna gave him back his look of conciliation. “Well, the how and why don’t + much matter now. The point is how to deal with your grandmother. You’ve + not told me what she means to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she means to send for Adelaide Painter.” + </p> + <p> + The name drew a faint note of mirth from him and relaxed both their faces + to a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” Anna added, “it’s really the best thing for us all.” + </p> + <p> + Owen shrugged his shoulders. “It’s too preposterous and humiliating. + Dragging that woman into our secrets——!” + </p> + <p> + “This could hardly be a secret much longer.” + </p> + <p> + He had moved to the hearth, where he stood pushing about the small + ornaments on the mantel-shelf; but at her answer he turned back to her. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t, of course, spoken of it to any one?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I intend to now.” + </p> + <p> + She paused for his reply, and as it did not come she continued: “If + Adelaide Painter’s to be told there’s no possible reason why I shouldn’t + tell Mr. Darrow.” Owen abruptly set down the little statuette between his + fingers. “None whatever: I want every one to know.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled a little at his over-emphasis, and was about to meet it with a + word of banter when he continued, facing her: “You haven’t, as yet, said a + word to him?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told him nothing, except what the discussion of our own plans—his + and mine—obliged me to: that you were thinking of marrying, and that + I wasn’t willing to leave France till I’d done what I could to see you + through.” + </p> + <p> + At her first words the colour had rushed to his forehead; but as she + continued she saw his face compose itself and his blood subside. + </p> + <p> + “You’re a brick, my dear!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You had my word, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; yes—I know.” His face had clouded again. “And that’s all—positively + all—you’ve ever said to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Positively all. But why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + He had a moment’s embarrassed hesitation. “It was understood, wasn’t it, + that my grandmother was to be the first to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—and so she has been, hasn’t she, since you’ve told her?” + </p> + <p> + He turned back to his restless shifting of the knick-knacks. + </p> + <p> + “And you’re sure that nothing you’ve said to Darrow could possibly have + given him a hint——?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing I’ve said to him—certainly.” + </p> + <p> + He swung about on her. “Why do you put it in that way?” + </p> + <p> + “In what way?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—as if you thought some one else might have spoken...” + </p> + <p> + “Some one else? Who else?” She rose to her feet. “What on earth, my dear + boy, can you be driving at?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m trying to find out whether you think he knows anything definite.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I think so? Do <i>you</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I want to find out.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed at his obstinate insistence. “To test my veracity, I suppose?” + At the sound of a step in the gallery she added: “Here he is—you can + ask him yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She met Darrow’s knock with an invitation to enter, and he came into the + room and paused between herself and Owen. She was struck, as he stood + there, by the contrast between his happy careless good-looks and her + step-son’s frowning agitation. + </p> + <p> + Darrow met her eyes with a smile. “Am I too soon? Or is our walk given + up?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I was just going to get ready.” She continued to linger between the + two, looking slowly from one to the other. “But there’s something we want + to tell you first: Owen is engaged to Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + The sense of an indefinable interrogation in Owen’s mind made her, as she + spoke, fix her eyes steadily on Darrow. + </p> + <p> + He had paused just opposite the window, so that, even in the rainy + afternoon light, his face was clearly open to her scrutiny. For a second, + immense surprise was alone visible on it: so visible that she half turned + to her step-son, with a faint smile for his refuted suspicions. Why, she + wondered, should Owen have thought that Darrow had already guessed his + secret, and what, after all, could be so disturbing to him in this not + improbable contingency? At any rate, his doubt must have been dispelled: + there was nothing feigned about Darrow’s astonishment. When her eyes + turned back to him he was already crossing to Owen with outstretched hand, + and she had, through an unaccountable faint flutter of misgiving, a mere + confused sense of their exchanging the customary phrases. Her next + perception was of Owen’s tranquillized look, and of his smiling return of + Darrow’s congratulatory grasp. She had the eerie feeling of having been + overswept by a shadow which there had been no cloud to cast... + </p> + <p> + A moment later Owen had left the room and she and Darrow were alone. He + had turned away to the window and stood staring out into the down-pour. + </p> + <p> + “You’re surprised at Owen’s news?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: I am surprised,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “You hadn’t thought of its being Miss Viner?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I have thought of Miss Viner?” + </p> + <p> + “You see now why I wanted so much to find out what you knew about her.” He + made no comment, and she pursued: “Now that you <i>do</i> know it’s she, if + there’s anything——” + </p> + <p> + He moved back into the room and went up to her. His face was serious, with + a slight shade of annoyance. “What on earth should there be? As I told + you, I’ve never in my life heard any one say two words about Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + Anna made no answer and they continued to face each other without moving. + For the moment she had ceased to think about Sophy Viner and Owen: the + only thought in her mind was that Darrow was alone with her, close to her, + and that, for the first time, their hands and lips had not met. + </p> + <p> + He glanced back doubtfully at the window. “It’s pouring. Perhaps you’d + rather not go out?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, as if waiting for him to urge her. “I suppose I’d better + not. I ought to go at once to my mother-in-law—Owen’s just been + telling her,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Ah.” Darrow hazarded a smile. “That accounts for my having, on my way up, + heard some one telephoning for Miss Painter!” + </p> + <p> + At the allusion they laughed together, vaguely, and Anna moved toward the + door. He held it open for her and followed her out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX + </h2> + <p> + He left her at the door of Madame de Chantelle’s sitting-room, and plunged + out alone into the rain. + </p> + <p> + The wind flung about the stripped tree-tops of the avenue and dashed the + stinging streams into his face. He walked to the gate and then turned into + the high-road and strode along in the open, buffeted by slanting gusts. + The evenly ridged fields were a blurred waste of mud, and the russet + coverts which he and Owen had shot through the day before shivered + desolately against a driving sky. + </p> + <p> + Darrow walked on and on, indifferent to the direction he was taking. His + thoughts were tossing like the tree-tops. Anna’s announcement had not come + to him as a complete surprise: that morning, as he strolled back to the + house with Owen Leath and Miss Viner, he had had a momentary intuition of + the truth. But it had been no more than an intuition, the merest faint + cloud-puff of surmise; and now it was an attested fact, darkening over the + whole sky. + </p> + <p> + In respect of his own attitude, he saw at once that the discovery made no + appreciable change. If he had been bound to silence before, he was no less + bound to it now; the only difference lay in the fact that what he had just + learned had rendered his bondage more intolerable. Hitherto he had felt + for Sophy Viner’s defenseless state a sympathy profoundly tinged with + compunction. But now he was half-conscious of an obscure indignation + against her. Superior as he had fancied himself to ready-made judgments, + he was aware of cherishing the common doubt as to the disinterestedness of + the woman who tries to rise above her past. No wonder she had been sick + with fear on meeting him! It was in his power to do her more harm than he + had dreamed... + </p> + <p> + Assuredly he did not want to harm her; but he did desperately want to + prevent her marrying Owen Leath. He tried to get away from the feeling, to + isolate and exteriorize it sufficiently to see what motives it was made + of; but it remained a mere blind motion of his blood, the instinctive + recoil from the thing that no amount of arguing can make “straight.” His + tramp, prolonged as it was, carried him no nearer to enlightenment; and + after trudging through two or three sallow mud-stained villages he turned + about and wearily made his way back to Givre. As he walked up the black + avenue, making for the lights that twinkled through its pitching branches, + he had a sudden realisation of his utter helplessness. He might think and + combine as he would; but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that he + could do... + </p> + <p> + He dropped his wet coat in the vestibule and began to mount the stairs to + his room. But on the landing he was overtaken by a sober-faced maid who, + in tones discreetly lowered, begged him to be so kind as to step, for a + moment, into the Marquise’s sitting-room. Somewhat disconcerted by the + summons, he followed its bearer to the door at which, a couple of hours + earlier, he had taken leave of Mrs. Leath. It opened to admit him to a + large lamp-lit room which he immediately perceived to be empty; and the + fact gave him time to note, even through his disturbance of mind, the + interesting degree to which Madame de Chantelle’s apartment “dated” and + completed her. Its looped and corded curtains, its purple satin + upholstery, the Sevres jardinieres, the rosewood fire-screen, the little + velvet tables edged with lace and crowded with silver knick-knacks and + simpering miniatures, reconstituted an almost perfect setting for the + blonde beauty of the ’sixties. Darrow wondered that Fraser Leath’s filial + respect should have prevailed over his aesthetic scruples to the extent of + permitting such an anachronism among the eighteenth century graces of + Givre; but a moment’s reflection made it clear that, to its late owner, + the attitude would have seemed exactly in the traditions of the place. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle’s emergence from an inner room snatched Darrow from + these irrelevant musings. She was already beaded and bugled for the + evening, and, save for a slight pinkness of the eye-lids, her elaborate + appearance revealed no mark of agitation; but Darrow noticed that, in + recognition of the solemnity of the occasion, she pinched a lace + handkerchief between her thumb and forefinger. + </p> + <p> + She plunged at once into the centre of the difficulty, appealing to him, + in the name of all the Everards, to descend there with her to the rescue + of her darling. She wasn’t, she was sure, addressing herself in vain to + one whose person, whose “tone,” whose traditions so brilliantly declared + his indebtedness to the principles she besought him to defend. Her own + reception of Darrow, the confidence she had at once accorded him, must + have shown him that she had instinctively felt their unanimity of + sentiment on these fundamental questions. She had in fact recognized in + him the one person whom, without pain to her maternal piety, she could + welcome as her son’s successor; and it was almost as to Owen’s father that + she now appealed to Darrow to aid in rescuing the wretched boy. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t think, please, that I’m casting the least reflection on Anna, or + showing any want of sympathy for her, when I say that I consider her + partly responsible for what’s happened. Anna is ‘modern’—I believe + that’s what it’s called when you read unsettling books and admire hideous + pictures. Indeed,” Madame de Chantelle continued, leaning confidentially + forward, “I myself have always more or less lived in that atmosphere: my + son, you know, was very revolutionary. Only he didn’t, of course, apply + his ideas: they were purely intellectual. That’s what dear Anna has always + failed to understand. And I’m afraid she’s created the same kind of + confusion in Owen’s mind—led him to mix up things you read about + with things you do.... You know, of course, that she sides with him in this + wretched business?” + </p> + <p> + Developing at length upon this theme, she finally narrowed down to the + point of Darrow’s intervention. “My grandson, Mr. Darrow, calls me + illogical and uncharitable because my feelings toward Miss Viner have + changed since I’ve heard this news. Well! You’ve known her, it appears, + for some years: Anna tells me you used to see her when she was a + companion, or secretary or something, to a dreadfully vulgar Mrs. Murrett. + And I ask you as a friend, I ask you as one of <i>us</i>, to tell me if you think + a girl who has had to knock about the world in that kind of position, and + at the orders of all kinds of people, is fitted to be Owen’s wife. I’m not + implying anything against her! I <i>liked</i> the girl, Mr. Darrow.... But what’s + that got to do with it? I don’t want her to marry my grandson. If I’d been + looking for a wife for Owen, I shouldn’t have applied to the Farlows to + find me one. That’s what Anna won’t understand; and what you must help me + to make her see.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow, to this appeal, could oppose only the repeated assurance of his + inability to interfere. He tried to make Madame de Chantelle see that the + very position he hoped to take in the household made his intervention the + more hazardous. He brought up the usual arguments, and sounded the + expected note of sympathy; but Madame de Chantelle’s alarm had dispelled + her habitual imprecision, and, though she had not many reasons to advance, + her argument clung to its point like a frightened sharp-clawed animal. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” she summed up, in response to his repeated assertions that + he saw no way of helping her, “you can, at least, even if you won’t say a + word to the others, tell me frankly and fairly—and quite between + ourselves—your personal opinion of Miss Viner, since you’ve known + her so much longer than we have.” + </p> + <p> + He protested that, if he had known her longer, he had known her much less + well, and that he had already, on this point, convinced Anna of his + inability to pronounce an opinion. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle drew a deep sigh of intelligence. “Your opinion of + Mrs. Murrett is enough! I don’t suppose you pretend to conceal <i>that</i>? And + heaven knows what other unspeakable people she’s been mixed up with. The + only friends she can produce are called Hoke.... Don’t try to reason with + me, Mr. Darrow. There are feelings that go deeper than facts.... And I <i>know</i> + she thought of studying for the stage...” Madame de Chantelle raised the + corner of her lace handkerchief to her eyes. “I’m old-fashioned—like + my furniture,” she murmured. “And I thought I could count on you, Mr. + Darrow...” + </p> + <p> + When Darrow, that night, regained his room, he reflected with a flash of + irony that each time he entered it he brought a fresh troop of + perplexities to trouble its serene seclusion. Since the day after his + arrival, only forty-eight hours before, when he had set his window open to + the night, and his hopes had seemed as many as its stars, each evening had + brought its new problem and its renewed distress. But nothing, as yet, had + approached the blank misery of mind with which he now set himself to face + the fresh questions confronting him. + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner had not shown herself at dinner, so that he had had no glimpse + of her in her new character, and no means of divining the real nature of + the tie between herself and Owen Leath. One thing, however, was clear: + whatever her real feelings were, and however much or little she had at + stake, if she had made up her mind to marry Owen she had more than enough + skill and tenacity to defeat any arts that poor Madame de Chantelle could + oppose to her. + </p> + <p> + Darrow himself was in fact the only person who might possibly turn her + from her purpose: Madame de Chantelle, at haphazard, had hit on the surest + means of saving Owen—if to prevent his marriage were to save him! + Darrow, on this point, did not pretend to any fixed opinion; one feeling + alone was clear and insistent in him: he did not mean, if he could help + it, to let the marriage take place. + </p> + <p> + How he was to prevent it he did not know: to his tormented imagination + every issue seemed closed. For a fantastic instant he was moved to follow + Madame de Chantelle’s suggestion and urge Anna to withdraw her approval. + If his reticence, his efforts to avoid the subject, had not escaped her, + she had doubtless set them down to the fact of his knowing more, and + thinking less, of Sophy Viner than he had been willing to admit; and he + might take advantage of this to turn her mind gradually from the project. + Yet how do so without betraying his insincerity? If he had had nothing to + hide he could easily have said: “It’s one thing to know nothing against + the girl, it’s another to pretend that I think her a good match for Owen.” + But could he say even so much without betraying more? It was not Anna’s + questions, or his answers to them, that he feared, but what might cry + aloud in the intervals between them. He understood now that ever since + Sophy Viner’s arrival at Givre he had felt in Anna the lurking sense of + something unexpressed, and perhaps inexpressible, between the girl and + himself.... When at last he fell asleep he had fatalistically committed his + next step to the chances of the morrow. + </p> + <p> + The first that offered itself was an encounter with Mrs. Leath as he + descended the stairs the next morning. She had come down already hatted + and shod for a dash to the park lodge, where one of the gatekeeper’s + children had had an accident. In her compact dark dress she looked more + than usually straight and slim, and her face wore the pale glow it took on + at any call on her energy: a kind of warrior brightness that made her + small head, with its strong chin and close-bound hair, like that of an + amazon in a frieze. + </p> + <p> + It was their first moment alone since she had left him, the afternoon + before, at her mother-in-law’s door; and after a few words about the + injured child their talk inevitably reverted to Owen. + </p> + <p> + Anna spoke with a smile of her “scene” with Madame de Chantelle, who + belonged, poor dear, to a generation when “scenes” (in the ladylike and + lachrymal sense of the term) were the tribute which sensibility was + expected to pay to the unusual. Their conversation had been, in every + detail, so exactly what Anna had foreseen that it had clearly not made + much impression on her; but she was eager to know the result of Darrow’s + encounter with her mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “She told me she’d sent for you: she always ‘sends for’ people in + emergencies. That again, I suppose, is <i>de l’epoque</i>. And failing Adelaide + Painter, who can’t get here till this afternoon, there was no one but poor + you to turn to.” + </p> + <p> + She put it all lightly, with a lightness that seemed to his tight-strung + nerves slightly, undefinably over-done. But he was so aware of his own + tension that he wondered, the next moment, whether anything would ever + again seem to him quite usual and insignificant and in the common order of + things. + </p> + <p> + As they hastened on through the drizzle in which the storm of the night + was weeping itself out, Anna drew close under his umbrella, and at the + pressure of her arm against his he recalled his walk up the Dover pier + with Sophy Viner. The memory gave him a startled vision of the inevitable + occasions of contact, confidence, familiarity, which his future + relationship to the girl would entail, and the countless chances of + betrayal that every one of them involved. + </p> + <p> + “Do tell me just what you said,” he heard Anna pleading; and with sudden + resolution he affirmed: “I quite understand your mother-in-law’s feeling + as she does.” + </p> + <p> + The words, when uttered, seemed a good deal less significant than they had + sounded to his inner ear; and Anna replied without surprise: “Of course. + It’s inevitable that she should. But we shall bring her round in time.” + Under the dripping dome she raised her face to his. “Don’t you remember + what you said the day before yesterday? ‘Together we can’t fail to pull it + off for him!’ I’ve told Owen that, so you’re pledged and there’s no going + back.” + </p> + <p> + The day before yesterday! Was it possible that, no longer ago, life had + seemed a sufficiently simple business for a sane man to hazard such + assurances? + </p> + <p> + “Anna,” he questioned her abruptly, “why are you so anxious for this + marriage?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short to face him. “Why? But surely I’ve explained to you—or + rather I’ve hardly had to, you seemed so in sympathy with my reasons!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know, then, who it was that Owen wanted to marry.” + </p> + <p> + The words were out with a spring and he felt a clearer air in his brain. + But her logic hemmed him in. + </p> + <p> + “You knew yesterday; and you assured me then that you hadn’t a word to say——” + </p> + <p> + “Against Miss Viner?” The name, once uttered, sounded on and on in his + ears. “Of course not. But that doesn’t necessarily imply that I think her + a good match for Owen.” + </p> + <p> + Anna made no immediate answer. When she spoke it was to question: “Why + don’t you think her a good match for Owen?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—Madame de Chantelle’s reasons seem to me not quite as + negligible as you think.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean the fact that she’s been Mrs. Murrett’s secretary, and that the + people who employed her before were called Hoke? For, as far as Owen and I + can make out, these are the gravest charges against her.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, one can understand that the match is not what Madame de Chantelle + had dreamed of.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, perfectly—if that’s all you mean.” The lodge was in sight, and + she hastened her step. He strode on beside her in silence, but at the gate + she checked him with the question: “Is it really all you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” he heard himself declare. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then I think I shall convince you—even if I can’t, like Madame + de Chantelle, summon all the Everards to my aid!” She lifted to him the + look of happy laughter that sometimes brushed her with a gleam of spring. + </p> + <p> + Darrow watched her hasten along the path between the dripping + chrysanthemums and enter the lodge. After she had gone in he paced up and + down outside in the drizzle, waiting to learn if she had any message to + send back to the house; and after the lapse of a few minutes she came out + again. + </p> + <p> + The child, she said, was badly, though not dangerously, hurt, and the + village doctor, who was already on hand, had asked that the surgeon, + already summoned from Francheuil, should be told to bring with him certain + needful appliances. Owen had started by motor to fetch the surgeon, but + there was still time to communicate with the latter by telephone. The + doctor furthermore begged for an immediate provision of such bandages and + disinfectants as Givre itself could furnish, and Anna bade Darrow address + himself to Miss Viner, who would know where to find the necessary things, + and would direct one of the servants to bicycle with them to the lodge. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, as he hurried off on this errand, had at once perceived the + opportunity it offered of a word with Sophy Viner. What that word was to + be he did not know; but now, if ever, was the moment to make it urgent and + conclusive. It was unlikely that he would again have such a chance of + unobserved talk with her. + </p> + <p> + He had supposed he should find her with her pupil in the school-room; but + he learned from a servant that Effie had gone to Francheuil with her + step-brother, and that Miss Viner was still in her room. Darrow sent her + word that he was the bearer of a message from the lodge, and a moment + later he heard her coming down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX + </h2> + <p> + For a second, as she approached him, the quick tremor of her glance showed + her all intent on the same thought as himself. He transmitted his + instructions with mechanical precision, and she answered in the same tone, + repeating his words with the intensity of attention of a child not quite + sure of understanding. Then she disappeared up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Darrow lingered on in the hall, not knowing if she meant to return, yet + inwardly sure she would. At length he saw her coming down in her hat and + jacket. The rain still streaked the window panes, and, in order to say + something, he said: “You’re not going to the lodge yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve sent one of the men ahead with the things; but I thought Mrs. Leath + might need me.” + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t ask for you,” he returned, wondering how he could detain her; + but she answered decidedly: “I’d better go.” + </p> + <p> + He held open the door, picked up his umbrella and followed her out. As + they went down the steps she glanced back at him. “You’ve forgotten your + mackintosh.” + </p> + <p> + “I sha’n’t need it.” + </p> + <p> + She had no umbrella, and he opened his and held it out to her. She + rejected it with a murmur of thanks and walked on through the thin + drizzle, and he kept the umbrella over his own head, without offering to + shelter her. + </p> + <p> + Rapidly and in silence they crossed the court and began to walk down the + avenue. They had traversed a third of its length before Darrow said + abruptly: “Wouldn’t it have been fairer, when we talked together + yesterday, to tell me what I’ve just heard from Mrs. Leath?” + </p> + <p> + “Fairer——?” She stopped short with a startled look. + </p> + <p> + “If I’d known that your future was already settled I should have spared + you my gratuitous suggestions.” + </p> + <p> + She walked on, more slowly, for a yard or two. “I couldn’t speak + yesterday. I meant to have told you today.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’m not reproaching you for your lack of confidence. Only, if you <i>had</i> + told me, I should have been more sure of your really meaning what you said + to me yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + She did not ask him to what he referred, and he saw that her parting words + to him lived as vividly in her memory as in his. + </p> + <p> + “Is it so important that you should be sure?” she finally questioned. + </p> + <p> + “Not to you, naturally,” he returned with involuntary asperity. It was + incredible, yet it was a fact, that for the moment his immediate purpose + in seeking to speak to her was lost under a rush of resentment at counting + for so little in her fate. Of what stuff, then, was his feeling for her + made? A few hours earlier she had touched his thoughts as little as his + senses; but now he felt old sleeping instincts stir in him... A rush of + rain dashed against his face, and, catching Sophy’s hat, strained it back + from her loosened hair. She put her hands to her head with a familiar + gesture.... He came closer and held his umbrella over her... + </p> + <p> + At the lodge he waited while she went in. The rain continued to stream + down on him and he shivered in the dampness and stamped his feet on the + flags. It seemed to him that a long time elapsed before the door opened + and she reappeared. He glanced into the house for a glimpse of Anna, but + obtained none; yet the mere sense of her nearness had completely altered + his mood. + </p> + <p> + The child, Sophy told him, was doing well; but Mrs. Leath had decided to + wait till the surgeon came. Darrow, as they turned away, looked through + the gates, and saw the doctor’s old-fashioned carriage by the roadside. + </p> + <p> + “Let me tell the doctor’s boy to drive you back,” he suggested; but Sophy + answered: “No; I’ll walk,” and he moved on toward the house at her side. + She expressed no surprise at his not remaining at the lodge, and again + they walked on in silence through the rain. She had accepted the shelter + of his umbrella, but she kept herself at such a carefully measured + distance that even the slight swaying movements produced by their quick + pace did not once bring her arm in touch with his; and, noticing this, he + perceived that every drop of her blood must be alive to his nearness. + </p> + <p> + “What I meant just now,” he began, “was that you ought to have been sure + of my good wishes.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to weigh the words. “Sure enough for what?” + </p> + <p> + “To trust me a little farther than you did.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told you that yesterday I wasn’t free to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, since you are now, may I say a word to you?” + </p> + <p> + She paused perceptibly, and when she spoke it was in so low a tone that he + had to bend his head to catch her answer. “I can’t think what you can have + to say.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not easy to say here, at any rate. And indoors I sha’n’t know where + to say it.” He glanced about him in the rain. “Let’s walk over to the + spring-house for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + To the right of the drive, under a clump of trees, a little stucco + pavilion crowned by a balustrade rose on arches of mouldering brick over a + flight of steps that led down to a spring. Other steps curved up to a door + above. Darrow mounted these, and opening the door entered a small circular + room hung with loosened strips of painted paper whereon spectrally faded + Mandarins executed elongated gestures. Some black and gold chairs with + straw seats and an unsteady table of cracked lacquer stood on the floor of + red-glazed tile. + </p> + <p> + Sophy had followed him without comment. He closed the door after her, and + she stood motionless, as though waiting for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Now we can talk quietly,” he said, looking at her with a smile into which + he tried to put an intention of the frankest friendliness. + </p> + <p> + She merely repeated: “I can’t think what you can have to say.” + </p> + <p> + Her voice had lost the note of half-wistful confidence on which their talk + of the previous day had closed, and she looked at him with a kind of pale + hostility. Her tone made it evident that his task would be difficult, but + it did not shake his resolve to go on. He sat down, and mechanically she + followed his example. The table was between them and she rested her arms + on its cracked edge and her chin on her interlocked hands. He looked at + her and she gave him back his look. + </p> + <p> + “Have you nothing to say to <i>me</i>?” he asked at length. + </p> + <p> + A faint smile lifted, in the remembered way, the left corner of her + narrowed lips. + </p> + <p> + “About my marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “About your marriage.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to consider him between half-drawn lids. “What can I say + that Mrs. Leath has not already told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Leath has told me nothing whatever but the fact—and her + pleasure in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well; aren’t those the two essential points?” + </p> + <p> + “The essential points to <i>you</i>? I should have thought——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, to <i>you</i>, I meant,” she put in keenly. + </p> + <p> + He flushed at the retort, but steadied himself and rejoined: “The + essential point to me is, of course, that you should be doing what’s + really best for you.” + </p> + <p> + She sat silent, with lowered lashes. At length she stretched out her arm + and took up from the table a little threadbare Chinese hand-screen. She + turned its ebony stem once or twice between her fingers, and as she did so + Darrow was whimsically struck by the way in which their evanescent slight + romance was symbolized by the fading lines on the frail silk. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think my engagement to Mr. Leath not really best for me?” she + asked at length. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, before answering, waited long enough to get his words into the + tersest shape—not without a sense, as he did so, of his likeness to + the surgeon deliberately poising his lancet for a clean incision. “I’m not + sure,” he replied, “of its being the best thing for either of you.” + </p> + <p> + She took the stroke steadily, but a faint red swept her face like the + reflection of a blush. She continued to keep her lowered eyes on the + screen. + </p> + <p> + “From whose point of view do you speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally, that of the persons most concerned.” + </p> + <p> + “From Owen’s, then, of course? You don’t think me a good match for him?” + </p> + <p> + “From yours, first of all. I don’t think him a good match for you.” + </p> + <p> + He brought the answer out abruptly, his eyes on her face. It had grown + extremely pale, but as the meaning of his words shaped itself in her mind + he saw a curious inner light dawn through her set look. She lifted her + lids just far enough for a veiled glance at him, and a smile slipped + through them to her trembling lips. For a moment the change merely + bewildered him; then it pulled him up with a sharp jerk of apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think him a good match for you,” he stammered, groping for the + lost thread of his words. + </p> + <p> + She threw a vague look about the chilly rain-dimmed room. “And you’ve + brought me here to tell me why?” + </p> + <p> + The question roused him to the sense that their minutes were numbered, and + that if he did not immediately get to his point there might be no other + chance of making it. + </p> + <p> + “My chief reason is that I believe he’s too young and inexperienced to + give you the kind of support you need.” + </p> + <p> + At his words her face changed again, freezing to a tragic coldness. She + stared straight ahead of her, perceptibly struggling with the tremor of + her muscles; and when she had controlled it she flung out a pale-lipped + pleasantry. “But you see I’ve always had to support myself!” + </p> + <p> + “He’s a boy,” Darrow pushed on, “a charming, wonderful boy; but with no + more notion than a boy how to deal with the inevitable daily + problems ... the trivial stupid unimportant things that life is chiefly made + up of.” “I’ll deal with them for him,” she rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll be more than ordinarily difficult.” + </p> + <p> + She shot a challenging glance at him. “You must have some special reason + for saying so.” + </p> + <p> + “Only my clear perception of the facts.” + </p> + <p> + “What facts do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow hesitated. “You must know better than I,” he returned at length, + “that the way won’t be made easy to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Leath, at any rate, has made it so.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Chantelle will not.” + </p> + <p> + “How do <i>you</i> know that?” she flung back. + </p> + <p> + He paused again, not sure how far it was prudent to reveal himself in the + confidence of the household. Then, to avoid involving Anna, he answered: + “Madame de Chantelle sent for me yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Sent for you—to talk to you about me?” The colour rose to her + forehead and her eyes burned black under lowered brows. “By what right, I + should like to know? What have you to do with me, or with anything in the + world that concerns me?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow instantly perceived what dread suspicion again possessed her, and + the sense that it was not wholly unjustified caused him a passing pang of + shame. But it did not turn him from his purpose. + </p> + <p> + “I’m an old friend of Mrs. Leath’s. It’s not unnatural that Madame de + Chantelle should talk to me.” + </p> + <p> + She dropped the screen on the table and stood up, turning on him the same + small mask of wrath and scorn which had glared at him, in Paris, when he + had confessed to his suppression of her letter. She walked away a step or + two and then came back. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask what Madame de Chantelle said to you?” + </p> + <p> + “She made it clear that she should not encourage the marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “And what was her object in making that clear to <i>you</i>?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow hesitated. “I suppose she thought——” + </p> + <p> + “That she could persuade you to turn Mrs. Leath against me?” + </p> + <p> + He was silent, and she pressed him: “Was that it?” “That was it.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you don’t—if you keep your promise——” + </p> + <p> + “My promise?” + </p> + <p> + “To say nothing ... nothing whatever...” Her strained look threw a haggard + light along the pause. + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, the whole odiousness of the scene rushed over him. “Of + course I shall say nothing ... you know that...” He leaned to her and laid + his hand on hers. “You know I wouldn’t for the world...” + </p> + <p> + She drew back and hid her face with a sob. Then she sank again into her + seat, stretched her arms across the table and laid her face upon them. He + sat still, overwhelmed with compunction. After a long interval, in which + he had painfully measured the seconds by her hard-drawn breathing, she + looked up at him with a face washed clear of bitterness. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t suppose I don’t know what you must have thought of me!” + </p> + <p> + The cry struck him down to a lower depth of self-abasement. “My poor + child,” he felt like answering, “the shame of it is that I’ve never + thought of you at all!” But he could only uselessly repeat: “I’ll do + anything I can to help you.” + </p> + <p> + She sat silent, drumming the table with her hand. He saw that her doubt of + him was allayed, and the perception made him more ashamed, as if her trust + had first revealed to him how near he had come to not deserving it. + Suddenly she began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “You think, then, I’ve no right to marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “No right? God forbid! I only meant——” + </p> + <p> + “That you’d rather I didn’t marry any friend of yours.” She brought it out + deliberately, not as a question, but as a mere dispassionate statement of + fact. + </p> + <p> + Darrow in turn stood up and wandered away helplessly to the window. He + stood staring out through its small discoloured panes at the dim brown + distances; then he moved back to the table. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you exactly what I meant. You’ll be wretched if you marry a man + you’re not in love with.” + </p> + <p> + He knew the risk of misapprehension that he ran, but he estimated his + chances of success as precisely in proportion to his peril. If certain + signs meant what he thought they did, he might yet—at what cost he + would not stop to think—make his past pay for his future. + </p> + <p> + The girl, at his words, had lifted her head with a movement of surprise. + Her eyes slowly reached his face and rested there in a gaze of deep + interrogation. He held the look for a moment; then his own eyes dropped + and he waited. + </p> + <p> + At length she began to speak. “You’re mistaken—you’re quite + mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + He waited a moment longer. “Mistaken——?” + </p> + <p> + “In thinking what you think. I’m as happy as if I deserved it!” she + suddenly proclaimed with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + She stood up and moved toward the door. “<i>Now</i> are you satisfied?” she + asked, turning her vividest face to him from the threshold. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI + </h2> + <p> + Down the avenue there came to them, with the opening of the door, the + voice of Owen’s motor. It was the signal which had interrupted their first + talk, and again, instinctively, they drew apart at the sound. Without a + word Darrow turned back into the room, while Sophy Viner went down the + steps and walked back alone toward the court. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon the presence of the surgeon, and the non-appearance of Madame + de Chantelle—who had excused herself on the plea of a headache—combined + to shift the conversational centre of gravity; and Darrow, under shelter + of the necessarily impersonal talk, had time to adjust his disguise and to + perceive that the others were engaged in the same re-arrangement. It was + the first time that he had seen young Leath and Sophy Viner together since + he had learned of their engagement; but neither revealed more emotion than + befitted the occasion. It was evident that Owen was deeply under the + girl’s charm, and that at the least sign from her his bliss would have + broken bounds; but her reticence was justified by the tacitly recognized + fact of Madame de Chantelle’s disapproval. This also visibly weighed on + Anna’s mind, making her manner to Sophy, if no less kind, yet a trifle + more constrained than if the moment of final understanding had been + reached. So Darrow interpreted the tension perceptible under the fluent + exchange of commonplaces in which he was diligently sharing. But he was + more and more aware of his inability to test the moral atmosphere about + him: he was like a man in fever testing another’s temperature by the + touch. + </p> + <p> + After luncheon Anna, who was to motor the surgeon home, suggested to + Darrow that he should accompany them. Effie was also of the party; and + Darrow inferred that Anna wished to give her step-son a chance to be alone + with his betrothed. On the way back, after the surgeon had been left at + his door, the little girl sat between her mother and Darrow, and her + presence kept their talk from taking a personal turn. Darrow knew that + Mrs. Leath had not yet told Effie of the relation in which he was to stand + to her. The premature divulging of Owen’s plans had thrown their own into + the background, and by common consent they continued, in the little girl’s + presence, on terms of an informal friendliness. + </p> + <p> + The sky had cleared after luncheon, and to prolong their excursion they + returned by way of the ivy-mantled ruin which was to have been the scene + of the projected picnic. This circuit brought them back to the park gates + not long before sunset, and as Anna wished to stop at the lodge for news + of the injured child Darrow left her there with Effie and walked on alone + to the house. He had the impression that she was slightly surprised at his + not waiting for her; but his inner restlessness vented itself in an + intense desire for bodily movement. He would have liked to walk himself + into a state of torpor; to tramp on for hours through the moist winds and + the healing darkness and come back staggering with fatigue and sleep. But + he had no pretext for such a flight, and he feared that, at such a moment, + his prolonged absence might seem singular to Anna. + </p> + <p> + As he approached the house, the thought of her nearness produced a swift + reaction of mood. It was as if an intenser vision of her had scattered his + perplexities like morning mists. At this moment, wherever she was, he knew + he was safely shut away in her thoughts, and the knowledge made every + other fact dwindle away to a shadow. He and she loved each other, and + their love arched over them open and ample as the day: in all its sunlit + spaces there was no cranny for a fear to lurk. In a few minutes he would + be in her presence and would read his reassurance in her eyes. And + presently, before dinner, she would contrive that they should have an hour + by themselves in her sitting-room, and he would sit by the hearth and + watch her quiet movements, and the way the bluish lustre on her hair + purpled a little as she bent above the fire. + </p> + <p> + A carriage drove out of the court as he entered it, and in the hall his + vision was dispelled by the exceedingly substantial presence of a lady in + a waterproof and a tweed hat, who stood firmly planted in the centre of a + pile of luggage, as to which she was giving involved but lucid directions + to the footman who had just admitted her. She went on with these + directions regardless of Darrow’s entrance, merely fixing her small pale + eyes on him while she proceeded, in a deep contralto voice, and a fluent + French pronounced with the purest Boston accent, to specify the + destination of her bags; and this enabled Darrow to give her back a gaze + protracted enough to take in all the details of her plain thick-set + person, from the square sallow face beneath bands of grey hair to the + blunt boot-toes protruding under her wide walking skirt. + </p> + <p> + She submitted to this scrutiny with no more evidence of surprise than a + monument examined by a tourist; but when the fate of her luggage had been + settled she turned suddenly to Darrow and, dropping her eyes from his face + to his feet, asked in trenchant accents: “What sort of boots have you got + on?” + </p> + <p> + Before he could summon his wits to the consideration of this question she + continued in a tone of suppressed indignation: “Until Americans get used + to the fact that France is under water for half the year they’re + perpetually risking their lives by not being properly protected. I suppose + you’ve been tramping through all this nasty clammy mud as if you’d been + taking a stroll on Boston Common.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow, with a laugh, affirmed his previous experience of French dampness, + and the degree to which he was on his guard against it; but the lady, with + a contemptuous snort, rejoined: “You young men are all alike——“; + to which she appended, after another hard look at him: “I suppose you’re + George Darrow? I used to know one of your mother’s cousins, who married a + Tunstall of Mount Vernon Street. My name is Adelaide Painter. Have you + been in Boston lately? No? I’m sorry for that. I hear there have been + several new houses built at the lower end of Commonwealth Avenue and I + hoped you could tell me about them. I haven’t been there for thirty years + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Painter’s arrival at Givre produced the same effect as the wind’s + hauling around to the north after days of languid weather. When Darrow + joined the group about the tea-table she had already given a tingle to the + air. Madame de Chantelle still remained invisible above stairs; but Darrow + had the impression that even through her drawn curtains and bolted doors a + stimulating whiff must have entered. + </p> + <p> + Anna was in her usual seat behind the tea-tray, and Sophy Viner presently + led in her pupil. Owen was also there, seated, as usual, a little apart + from the others, and following Miss Painter’s massive movements and + equally substantial utterances with a smile of secret intelligence which + gave Darrow the idea of his having been in clandestine parley with the + enemy. Darrow further took note that the girl and her suitor perceptibly + avoided each other; but this might be a natural result of the tension Miss + Painter had been summoned to relieve. + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner would evidently permit no recognition of the situation save + that which it lay with Madame de Chantelle to accord; but meanwhile Miss + Painter had proclaimed her tacit sense of it by summoning the girl to a + seat at her side. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, as he continued to observe the newcomer, who was perched on her + arm-chair like a granite image on the edge of a cliff, was aware that, in + a more detached frame of mind, he would have found an extreme interest in + studying and classifying Miss Painter. It was not that she said anything + remarkable, or betrayed any of those unspoken perceptions which give + significance to the most commonplace utterances. She talked of the + lateness of her train, of an impending crisis in international politics, + of the difficulty of buying English tea in Paris and of the enormities of + which French servants were capable; and her views on these subjects were + enunciated with a uniformity of emphasis implying complete unconsciousness + of any difference in their interest and importance. She always applied to + the French race the distant epithet of “those people”, but she betrayed an + intimate acquaintance with many of its members, and an encyclopaedic + knowledge of the domestic habits, financial difficulties and private + complications of various persons of social importance. Yet, as she + evidently felt no incongruity in her attitude, so she revealed no desire + to parade her familiarity with the fashionable, or indeed any sense of it + as a fact to be paraded. It was evident that the titled ladies whom she + spoke of as Mimi or Simone or Odette were as much “those people” to her as + the <i>bonne</i> who tampered with her tea and steamed the stamps off her letters + (“when, by a miracle, I don’t put them in the box myself.”) Her whole + attitude was of a vast grim tolerance of things-as-they-came, as though + she had been some wonderful automatic machine which recorded facts but had + not yet been perfected to the point of sorting or labelling them. + </p> + <p> + All this, as Darrow was aware, still fell short of accounting for the + influence she obviously exerted on the persons in contact with her. It + brought a slight relief to his state of tension to go on wondering, while + he watched and listened, just where the mystery lurked. Perhaps, after + all, it was in the fact of her blank insensibility, an insensibility so + devoid of egotism that it had no hardness and no grimaces, but rather the + freshness of a simpler mental state. After living, as he had, as they all + had, for the last few days, in an atmosphere perpetually tremulous with + echoes and implications, it was restful and fortifying merely to walk into + the big blank area of Miss Painter’s mind, so vacuous for all its + accumulated items, so echoless for all its vacuity. + </p> + <p> + His hope of a word with Anna before dinner was dispelled by her rising to + take Miss Painter up to Madame de Chantelle; and he wandered away to his + own room, leaving Owen and Miss Viner engaged in working out a + picture-puzzle for Effie. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle—possibly as the result of her friend’s + ministrations—was able to appear at the dinner-table, rather pale + and pink-nosed, and casting tenderly reproachful glances at her grandson, + who faced them with impervious serenity; and the situation was relieved by + the fact that Miss Viner, as usual, had remained in the school-room with + her pupil. + </p> + <p> + Darrow conjectured that the real clash of arms would not take place till + the morrow; and wishing to leave the field open to the contestants he set + out early on a solitary walk. It was nearly luncheon-time when he returned + from it and came upon Anna just emerging from the house. She had on her + hat and jacket and was apparently coming forth to seek him, for she said + at once: “Madame de Chantelle wants you to go up to her.” + </p> + <p> + “To go up to her? Now?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the message she sent. She appears to rely on you to do something.” + She added with a smile: “Whatever it is, let’s have it over!” + </p> + <p> + Darrow, through his rising sense of apprehension, wondered why, instead of + merely going for a walk, he had not jumped into the first train and got + out of the way till Owen’s affairs were finally settled. + </p> + <p> + “But what in the name of goodness can I do?” he protested, following Anna + back into the hall. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. But Owen seems so to rely on you, too——” + </p> + <p> + “Owen! Is <i>he</i> to be there?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But you know I told him he could count on you.” + </p> + <p> + “But I’ve said to your mother-in-law all I could.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then you can only repeat it.” + </p> + <p> + This did not seem to Darrow to simplify his case as much as she appeared + to think; and once more he had a movement of recoil. “There’s no possible + reason for my being mixed up in this affair!” + </p> + <p> + Anna gave him a reproachful glance. “Not the fact that I am?” she reminded + him; but even this only stiffened his resistance. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you be, either—to this extent?” + </p> + <p> + The question made her pause. She glanced about the hall, as if to be sure + they had it to themselves; and then, in a lowered voice: “I don’t know,” + she suddenly confessed; “but, somehow, if <i>they’re</i> not happy I feel as if + we shouldn’t be.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—” Darrow acquiesced, in the tone of the man who perforce + yields to so lovely an unreasonableness. Escape was, after all, + impossible, and he could only resign himself to being led to Madame de + Chantelle’s door. + </p> + <p> + Within, among the bric-a-brac and furbelows, he found Miss Painter seated + in a redundant purple armchair with the incongruous air of a horseman + bestriding a heavy mount. Madame de Chantelle sat opposite, still a little + wan and disordered under her elaborate hair, and clasping the handkerchief + whose visibility symbolized her distress. On the young man’s entrance she + sighed out a plaintive welcome, to which she immediately appended: “Mr. + Darrow, I can’t help feeling that at heart you’re with me!” + </p> + <p> + The directness of the challenge made it easier for Darrow to protest, and + he reiterated his inability to give an opinion on either side. + </p> + <p> + “But Anna declares you have—on hers!” + </p> + <p> + He could not restrain a smile at this faint flaw in an impartiality so + scrupulous. Every evidence of feminine inconsequence in Anna seemed to + attest her deeper subjection to the most inconsequent of passions. He had + certainly promised her his help—but before he knew what he was + promising. + </p> + <p> + He met Madame de Chantelle’s appeal by replying: “If there were anything I + could possibly say I should want it to be in Miss Viner’s favour.” + </p> + <p> + “You’d want it to be—yes! But could you make it so?” + </p> + <p> + “As far as facts go, I don’t see how I can make it either for or against + her. I’ve already said that I know nothing of her except that she’s + charming.” + </p> + <p> + “As if that weren’t enough—weren’t all there <i>ought</i> to be!” Miss + Painter put in impatiently. She seemed to address herself to Darrow, + though her small eyes were fixed on her friend. + </p> + <p> + “Madame de Chantelle seems to imagine,” she pursued, “that a young + American girl ought to have a dossier—a police-record, or whatever + you call it: what those awful women in the streets have here. In our + country it’s enough to know that a young girl’s pure and lovely: people + don’t immediately ask her to show her bank-account and her visiting-list.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle looked plaintively at her sturdy monitress. “You don’t + expect me not to ask if she’s got a family?” + </p> + <p> + “No; nor to think the worse of her if she hasn’t. The fact that she’s an + orphan ought, with your ideas, to be a merit. You won’t have to invite her + father and mother to Givre!” + </p> + <p> + “Adelaide—Adelaide!” the mistress of Givre lamented. + </p> + <p> + “Lucretia Mary,” the other returned—and Darrow spared an instant’s + amusement to the quaint incongruity of the name—“you know you sent + for Mr. Darrow to refute me; and how can he, till he knows what I think?” + </p> + <p> + “You think it’s perfectly simple to let Owen marry a girl we know nothing + about?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I don’t think it’s perfectly simple to prevent him.” + </p> + <p> + The shrewdness of the answer increased Darrow’s interest in Miss Painter. + She had not hitherto struck him as being a person of much penetration, but + he now felt sure that her gimlet gaze might bore to the heart of any + practical problem. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle sighed out her recognition of the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “I haven’t a word to say against Miss Viner; but she’s knocked about so, + as it’s called, that she must have been mixed up with some rather dreadful + people. If only Owen could be made to see that—if one could get at a + few facts, I mean. She says, for instance, that she has a sister; but it + seems she doesn’t even know her address!” + </p> + <p> + “If she does, she may not want to give it to you. I daresay the sister’s + one of the dreadful people. I’ve no doubt that with a little time you + could rake up dozens of them: have her ‘traced’, as they call it in + detective stories. I don’t think you’d frighten Owen, but you might: it’s + natural enough he should have been corrupted by those foreign ideas. You + might even manage to part him from the girl; but you couldn’t keep him + from being in love with her. I saw that when I looked them over last + evening. I said to myself: ‘It’s a real old-fashioned American case, as + sweet and sound as home-made bread.’ Well, if you take his loaf away from + him, what are you going to feed him with instead? Which of your nasty + Paris poisons do you think he’ll turn to? Supposing you succeed in keeping + him out of a really bad mess—and, knowing the young man as I do, I + rather think that, at this crisis, the only way to do it would be to marry + him slap off to somebody else—well, then, who, may I ask, would you + pick out? One of your sweet French ingenues, I suppose? With as much mind + as a minnow and as much snap as a soft-boiled egg. You might hustle him + into that kind of marriage; I daresay you could—but if I know Owen, + the natural thing would happen before the first baby was weaned.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know why you insinuate such odious things against Owen!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think it would be odious of him to return to his real love when + he’d been forcibly parted from her? At any rate, it’s what your French + friends do, every one of them! Only they don’t generally have the grace to + go back to an old love; and I believe, upon my word, Owen would!” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Chantelle looked at her with a mixture of awe and exultation. + “Of course you realize, Adelaide, that in suggesting this you’re + insinuating the most shocking things against Miss Viner?” + </p> + <p> + “When I say that if you part two young things who are dying to be happy in + the lawful way it’s ten to one they’ll come together in an unlawful one? + I’m insinuating shocking things against <i>you</i>, Lucretia Mary, in suggesting + for a moment that you’ll care to assume such a responsibility before your + Maker. And you wouldn’t, if you talked things straight out with him, + instead of merely sending him messages through a miserable sinner like + yourself!” + </p> + <p> + Darrow expected this assault on her adopted creed to provoke in Madame de + Chantelle an explosion of pious indignation; but to his surprise she + merely murmured: “I don’t know what Mr. Darrow’ll think of you!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Darrow probably knows his Bible as well as I do,” Miss Painter calmly + rejoined; adding a moment later, without the least perceptible change of + voice or expression: “I suppose you’ve heard that Gisele de Folembray’s + husband accuses her of being mixed up with the Duc d’Arcachon in that + business of trying to sell a lot of imitation pearls to Mrs. Homer Pond, + the Chicago woman the Duke’s engaged to? It seems the jeweller says Gisele + brought Mrs. Pond there, and got twenty-five per cent—which of + course she passed on to d’Arcachon. The poor old Duchess is in a fearful + state—so afraid her son’ll lose Mrs. Pond! When I think that Gisele + is old Bradford Wagstaff’s grand-daughter, I’m thankful he’s safe in Mount + Auburn!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII + </h2> + <p> + It was not until late that afternoon that Darrow could claim his postponed + hour with Anna. When at last he found her alone in her sitting-room it was + with a sense of liberation so great that he sought no logical + justification of it. He simply felt that all their destinies were in Miss + Painter’s grasp, and that, resistance being useless, he could only enjoy + the sweets of surrender. + </p> + <p> + Anna herself seemed as happy, and for more explicable reasons. She had + assisted, after luncheon, at another debate between Madame de Chantelle + and her confidant, and had surmised, when she withdrew from it, that + victory was permanently perched on Miss Painter’s banners. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how she does it, unless it’s by the dead weight of her + convictions. She detests the French so that she’d back up Owen even if she + knew nothing—or knew too much—of Miss Viner. She somehow + regards the match as a protest against the corruption of European morals. + I told Owen that was his great chance, and he’s made the most of it.” + </p> + <p> + “What a tactician you are! You make me feel that I hardly know the + rudiments of diplomacy,” Darrow smiled at her, abandoning himself to a + perilous sense of well-being. + </p> + <p> + She gave him back his smile. “I’m afraid I think nothing short of my own + happiness is worth wasting any diplomacy on!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s why I mean to resign from the service of my country,” he rejoined + with a laugh of deep content. + </p> + <p> + The feeling that both resistance and apprehension were vain was working + like wine in his veins. He had done what he could to deflect the course of + events: now he could only stand aside and take his chance of safety. + Underneath this fatalistic feeling was the deep sense of relief that he + had, after all, said and done nothing that could in the least degree + affect the welfare of Sophy Viner. That fact took a millstone off his + neck. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile he gave himself up once more to the joy of Anna’s presence. They + had not been alone together for two long days, and he had the lover’s + sense that he had forgotten, or at least underestimated, the strength of + the spell she cast. Once more her eyes and her smile seemed to bound his + world. He felt that their light would always move with him as the sunset + moves before a ship at sea. + </p> + <p> + The next day his sense of security was increased by a decisive incident. + It became known to the expectant household that Madame de Chantelle had + yielded to the tremendous impact of Miss Painter’s determination and that + Sophy Viner had been “sent for” to the purple satin sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + At luncheon, Owen’s radiant countenance proclaimed the happy sequel, and + Darrow, when the party had moved back to the oak-room for coffee, deemed + it discreet to wander out alone to the terrace with his cigar. The + conclusion of Owen’s romance brought his own plans once more to the front. + Anna had promised that she would consider dates and settle details as soon + as Madame de Chantelle and her grandson had been reconciled, and Darrow + was eager to go into the question at once, since it was necessary that the + preparations for his marriage should go forward as rapidly as possible. + Anna, he knew, would not seek any farther pretext for delay; and he + strolled up and down contentedly in the sunshine, certain that she would + come out and reassure him as soon as the reunited family had claimed its + due share of her attention. + </p> + <p> + But when she finally joined him her first word was for the younger lovers. + </p> + <p> + “I want to thank you for what you’ve done for Owen,” she began, with her + happiest smile. + </p> + <p> + “Who—I?” he laughed. “Are you confusing me with Miss Painter?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought to say for <i>me</i>,” she corrected herself. “You’ve been even + more of a help to us than Adelaide.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear child! What on earth have I done?” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve managed to hide from Madame de Chantelle that you don’t really + like poor Sophy.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow felt the pallour in his cheek. “Not like her? What put such an idea + into your head?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s more than an idea—it’s a feeling. But what difference does + it make, after all? You saw her in such a different setting that it’s + natural you should be a little doubtful. But when you know her better I’m + sure you’ll feel about her as I do.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s going to be hard for me not to feel about everything as you do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—please begin with my daughter-in-law!” + </p> + <p> + He gave her back in the same tone of banter: “Agreed: if you’ll agree to + feel as I do about the pressing necessity of our getting married.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to talk to you about that too. You don’t know what a weight is off + my mind! With Sophy here for good, I shall feel so differently about + leaving Effie. I’ve seen much more accomplished governesses—to my + cost!—but I’ve never seen a young thing more gay and kind and human. + You must have noticed, though you’ve seen them so little together, how + Effie expands when she’s with her. And that, you know, is what I want. + Madame de Chantelle will provide the necessary restraint.” She clasped her + hands on his arm. “Yes, I’m ready to go with you now. But first of all—this + very moment!—you must come with me to Effie. She knows, of course, + nothing of what’s been happening; and I want her to be told first about + <i>you</i>.” + </p> + <p> + Effie, sought throughout the house, was presently traced to the + school-room, and thither Darrow mounted with Anna. He had never seen her + so alight with happiness, and he had caught her buoyancy of mood. He kept + repeating to himself: “It’s over—it’s over,” as if some monstrous + midnight hallucination had been routed by the return of day. + </p> + <p> + As they approached the school-room door the terrier’s barks came to them + through laughing remonstrances. + </p> + <p> + “She’s giving him his dinner,” Anna whispered, her hand in Darrow’s. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t forget the gold-fish!” they heard another voice call out. + </p> + <p> + Darrow halted on the threshold. “Oh—not now!” + </p> + <p> + “Not now?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean—she’d rather have you tell her first. I’ll wait for you both + downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + He was aware that she glanced at him intently. “As you please. I’ll bring + her down at once.” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door, and as she went in he heard her say: “No, Sophy, + don’t go! I want you both.” + </p> + <p> + The rest of Darrow’s day was a succession of empty and agitating scenes. + On his way down to Givre, before he had seen Effie Leath, he had pictured + somewhat sentimentally the joy of the moment when he should take her in + his arms and receive her first filial kiss. Everything in him that + egotistically craved for rest, stability, a comfortably organized + middle-age, all the home-building instincts of the man who has + sufficiently wooed and wandered, combined to throw a charm about the + figure of the child who might—who should—have been his. Effie + came to him trailing the cloud of glory of his first romance, giving him + back the magic hour he had missed and mourned. And how different the + realization of his dream had been! The child’s radiant welcome, her + unquestioning acceptance of, this new figure in the family group, had been + all that he had hoped and fancied. If Mother was so awfully happy about + it, and Owen and Granny, too, how nice and cosy and comfortable it was + going to be for all of them, her beaming look seemed to say; and then, + suddenly, the small pink fingers he had been kissing were laid on the one + flaw in the circle, on the one point which must be settled before Effie + could, with complete unqualified assurance, admit the new-comer to full + equality with the other gods of her Olympus. + </p> + <p> + “And is Sophy awfully happy about it too?” she had asked, loosening her + hold on Darrow’s neck to tilt back her head and include her mother in her + questioning look. + </p> + <p> + “Why, dearest, didn’t you see she was?” Anna had exclaimed, leaning to the + group with radiant eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I think I should like to ask her,” the child rejoined, after a minute’s + shy consideration; and as Darrow set her down her mother laughed: “Do, + darling, do! Run off at once, and tell her we expect her to be awfully + happy too.” + </p> + <p> + The scene had been succeeded by others less poignant but almost as trying. + Darrow cursed his luck in having, at such a moment, to run the gauntlet of + a houseful of interested observers. The state of being “engaged”, in + itself an absurd enough predicament, even to a man only intermittently + exposed, became intolerable under the continuous scrutiny of a small + circle quivering with participation. Darrow was furthermore aware that, + though the case of the other couple ought to have made his own less + conspicuous, it was rather they who found a refuge in the shadow of his + prominence. Madame de Chantelle, though she had consented to Owen’s + engagement and formally welcomed his betrothed, was nevertheless not sorry + to show, by her reception of Darrow, of what finely-shaded degrees of + cordiality she was capable. Miss Painter, having won the day for Owen, was + also free to turn her attention to the newer candidate for her sympathy; + and Darrow and Anna found themselves immersed in a warm bath of + sentimental curiosity. + </p> + <p> + It was a relief to Darrow that he was under a positive obligation to end + his visit within the next forty-eight hours. When he left London, his + Ambassador had accorded him a ten days’ leave. His fate being definitely + settled and openly published he had no reason for asking to have the time + prolonged, and when it was over he was to return to his post till the time + fixed for taking up his new duties. Anna and he had therefore decided to + be married, in Paris, a day or two before the departure of the steamer + which was to take them to South America; and Anna, shortly after his + return to England, was to go up to Paris and begin her own preparations. + </p> + <p> + In honour of the double betrothal Effie and Miss Viner were to appear that + evening at dinner; and Darrow, on leaving his room, met the little girl + springing down the stairs, her white ruffles and coral-coloured bows + making her look like a daisy with her yellow hair for its centre. Sophy + Viner was behind her pupil, and as she came into the light Darrow noticed + a change in her appearance and wondered vaguely why she looked suddenly + younger, more vivid, more like the little luminous ghost of his Paris + memories. Then it occurred to him that it was the first time she had + appeared at dinner since his arrival at Givre, and the first time, + consequently, that he had seen her in evening dress. She was still at the + age when the least adornment embellishes; and no doubt the mere uncovering + of her young throat and neck had given her back her former brightness. But + a second glance showed a more precise reason for his impression. Vaguely + though he retained such details, he felt sure she was wearing the dress he + had seen her in every evening in Paris. It was a simple enough dress, + black, and transparent on the arms and shoulders, and he would probably + not have recognized it if she had not called his attention to it in Paris + by confessing that she hadn’t any other. “The same dress? That proves that + she’s forgotten!” was his first half-ironic thought; but the next moment, + with a pang of compunction, he said to himself that she had probably put + it on for the same reason as before: simply because she hadn’t any other. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in silence, and for an instant, above Effie’s bobbing + head, she gave him back his look in a full bright gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there’s Owen!” Effie cried, and whirled away down the gallery to the + door from which her step-brother was emerging. As Owen bent to catch her, + Sophy Viner turned abruptly back to Darrow. + </p> + <p> + “You, too?” she said with a quick laugh. “I didn’t know——” And + as Owen came up to them she added, in a tone that might have been meant to + reach his ear: “I wish you all the luck that we can spare!” + </p> + <p> + About the dinner-table, which Effie, with Miss Viner’s aid, had lavishly + garlanded, the little party had an air of somewhat self-conscious + festivity. In spite of flowers, champagne and a unanimous attempt at ease, + there were frequent lapses in the talk, and moments of nervous groping for + new subjects. Miss Painter alone seemed not only unaffected by the general + perturbation but as tightly sealed up in her unconsciousness of it as a + diver in his bell. To Darrow’s strained attention even Owen’s gusts of + gaiety seemed to betray an inward sense of insecurity. After dinner, + however, at the piano, he broke into a mood of extravagant hilarity and + flooded the room with the splash and ripple of his music. + </p> + <p> + Darrow, sunk in a sofa corner in the lee of Miss Painter’s granite bulk, + smoked and listened in silence, his eyes moving from one figure to + another. Madame de Chantelle, in her armchair near the fire, clasped her + little granddaughter to her with the gesture of a drawing-room Niobe, and + Anna, seated near them, had fallen into one of the attitudes of vivid calm + which seemed to Darrow to express her inmost quality. Sophy Viner, after + moving uncertainly about the room, had placed herself beyond Mrs. Leath, + in a chair near the piano, where she sat with head thrown back and eyes + attached to the musician, in the same rapt fixity of attention with which + she had followed the players at the Français. The accident of her having + fallen into the same attitude, and of her wearing the same dress, gave + Darrow, as he watched her, a strange sense of double consciousness. To + escape from it, his glance turned back to Anna; but from the point at + which he was placed his eyes could not take in the one face without the + other, and that renewed the disturbing duality of the impression. Suddenly + Owen broke off with a crash of chords and jumped to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the use of this, with such a moon to say it for us?” + </p> + <p> + Behind the uncurtained window a low golden orb hung like a ripe fruit + against the glass. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—let’s go out and listen,” Anna answered. Owen threw open the + window, and with his gesture a fold of the heavy star-sprinkled sky seemed + to droop into the room like a drawn-in curtain. The air that entered with + it had a frosty edge, and Anna bade Effie run to the hall for wraps. + </p> + <p> + Darrow said: “You must have one too,” and started toward the door; but + Sophy, following her pupil, cried back: “We’ll bring things for + everybody.” + </p> + <p> + Owen had followed her, and in a moment the three reappeared, and the party + went out on the terrace. The deep blue purity of the night was unveiled by + mist, and the moonlight rimmed the edges of the trees with a silver blur + and blanched to unnatural whiteness the statues against their walls of + shade. + </p> + <p> + Darrow and Anna, with Effie between them, strolled to the farther corner + of the terrace. Below them, between the fringes of the park, the lawn + sloped dimly to the fields above the river. For a few minutes they stood + silently side by side, touched to peace beneath the trembling beauty of + the sky. When they turned back, Darrow saw that Owen and Sophy Viner, who + had gone down the steps to the garden, were also walking in the direction + of the house. As they advanced, Sophy paused in a patch of moonlight, + between the sharp shadows of the yews, and Darrow noticed that she had + thrown over her shoulders a long cloak of some light colour, which + suddenly evoked her image as she had entered the restaurant at his side on + the night of their first dinner in Paris. A moment later they were all + together again on the terrace, and when they re-entered the drawing-room + the older ladies were on their way to bed. + </p> + <p> + Effie, emboldened by the privileges of the evening, was for coaxing Owen + to round it off with a game of forfeits or some such reckless climax; but + Sophy, resuming her professional role, sounded the summons to bed. In her + pupil’s wake she made her round of good-nights; but when she proffered her + hand to Anna, the latter ignoring the gesture held out both arms. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, dear child,” she said impulsively, and drew the girl to her + kiss. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IV + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII + </h2> + <p> + The next day was Darrow’s last at Givre and, foreseeing that the afternoon + and evening would have to be given to the family, he had asked Anna to + devote an early hour to the final consideration of their plans. He was to + meet her in the brown sitting-room at ten, and they were to walk down to + the river and talk over their future in the little pavilion abutting on + the wall of the park. + </p> + <p> + It was just a week since his arrival at Givre, and Anna wished, before he + left, to return to the place where they had sat on their first afternoon + together. Her sensitiveness to the appeal of inanimate things, to the + colour and texture of whatever wove itself into the substance of her + emotion, made her want to hear Darrow’s voice, and to feel his eyes on + her, in the spot where bliss had first flowed into her heart. + </p> + <p> + That bliss, in the interval, had wound itself into every fold of her + being. Passing, in the first days, from a high shy tenderness to the rush + of a secret surrender, it had gradually widened and deepened, to flow on + in redoubled beauty. She thought she now knew exactly how and why she + loved Darrow, and she could see her whole sky reflected in the deep and + tranquil current of her love. + </p> + <p> + Early the next day, in her sitting-room, she was glancing through the + letters which it was Effie’s morning privilege to carry up to her. Effie + meanwhile circled inquisitively about the room, where there was always + something new to engage her infant fancy; and Anna, looking up, saw her + suddenly arrested before a photograph of Darrow which, the day before, had + taken its place on the writing-table. + </p> + <p> + Anna held out her arms with a faint blush. “You do like him, don’t you, + dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, most awfully, dearest,” Effie, against her breast, leaned back to + assure her with a limpid look. “And so do Granny and Owen—and I <i>do</i> + think Sophy does too,” she added, after a moment’s earnest pondering. + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” Anna laughed. She checked the impulse to continue: “Has she + talked to you about him, that you’re so sure?” She did not know what had + made the question spring to her lips, but she was glad she had closed them + before pronouncing it. Nothing could have been more distasteful to her + than to clear up such obscurities by turning on them the tiny flame of her + daughter’s observation. And what, after all, now that Owen’s happiness was + secured, did it matter if there were certain reserves in Darrow’s approval + of his marriage? + </p> + <p> + A knock on the door made Anna glance at the clock. “There’s Nurse to carry + you off.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s Sophy’s knock,” the little girl answered, jumping down to open the + door; and Miss Viner in fact stood on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Come in,” Anna said with a smile, instantly remarking how pale she + looked. + </p> + <p> + “May Effie go out for a turn with Nurse?” the girl asked. “I should like + to speak to you a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. This ought to be <i>your</i> holiday, as yesterday was Effie’s. Run + off, dear,” she added, stooping to kiss the little girl. + </p> + <p> + When the door had closed she turned back to Sophy Viner with a look that + sought her confidence. “I’m so glad you came, my dear. We’ve got so many + things to talk about, just you and I together.” + </p> + <p> + The confused intercourse of the last days had, in fact, left little time + for any speech with Sophy but such as related to her marriage and the + means of overcoming Madame de Chantelle’s opposition to it. Anna had + exacted of Owen that no one, not even Sophy Viner, should be given a hint + of her own projects till all contingent questions had been disposed of. + She had felt, from the outset, a secret reluctance to intrude her securer + happiness on the doubts and fears of the young pair. + </p> + <p> + From the sofa-corner to which she had dropped back she pointed to Darrow’s + chair. “Come and sit by me, dear. I wanted to see you alone. There’s so + much to say that I hardly know where to begin.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned forward, her hands clasped on the arms of the sofa, her eyes + bent smilingly on Sophy’s. As she did so, she noticed that the girl’s + unusual pallour was partly due to the slight veil of powder on her face. + The discovery was distinctly disagreeable. Anna had never before noticed, + on Sophy’s part, any recourse to cosmetics, and, much as she wished to + think herself exempt from old-fashioned prejudices, she suddenly became + aware that she did not like her daughter’s governess to have a powdered + face. Then she reflected that the girl who sat opposite her was no longer + Effie’s governess, but her own future daughter-in-law; and she wondered + whether Miss Viner had chosen this odd way of celebrating her + independence, and whether, as Mrs. Owen Leath, she would present to the + world a bedizened countenance. This idea was scarcely less distasteful + than the other, and for a moment Anna continued to consider her without + speaking. Then, in a flash, the truth came to her: Miss Viner had powdered + her face because Miss Viner had been crying. + </p> + <p> + Anna leaned forward impulsively. “My dear child, what’s the matter?” She + saw the girl’s blood rush up under the white mask, and hastened on: + “Please don’t be afraid to tell me. I do so want you to feel that you can + trust me as Owen does. And you know you mustn’t mind if, just at first, + Madame de Chantelle occasionally relapses.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke eagerly, persuasively, almost on a note of pleading. She had, in + truth, so many reasons for wanting Sophy to like her: her love for Owen, + her solicitude for Effie, and her own sense of the girl’s fine mettle. She + had always felt a romantic and almost humble admiration for those members + of her sex who, from force of will, or the constraint of circumstances, + had plunged into the conflict from which fate had so persistently excluded + her. There were even moments when she fancied herself vaguely to blame for + her immunity, and felt that she ought somehow to have affronted the perils + and hardships which refused to come to her. And now, as she sat looking at + Sophy Viner, so small, so slight, so visibly defenceless and undone, she + still felt, through all the superiority of her worldly advantages and her + seeming maturity, the same odd sense of ignorance and inexperience. She + could not have said what there was in the girl’s manner and expression to + give her this feeling, but she was reminded, as she looked at Sophy Viner, + of the other girls she had known in her youth, the girls who seemed + possessed of a secret she had missed. Yes, Sophy Viner had their look—almost + the obscurely menacing look of Kitty Mayne.... Anna, with an inward smile, + brushed aside the image of this forgotten rival. But she had felt, deep + down, a twinge of the old pain, and she was sorry that, even for the flash + of a thought, Owen’s betrothed should have reminded her of so different a + woman... + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand on the girl’s. “When his grandmother sees how happy Owen + is she’ll be quite happy herself. If it’s only that, don’t be distressed. + Just trust to Owen—and the future.” + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner, with an almost imperceptible recoil of her whole slight + person, had drawn her hand from under the palm enclosing it. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about—the future.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course! We’ve all so many plans to make—and to fit into each + other’s. Please let’s begin with yours.” + </p> + <p> + The girl paused a moment, her hands clasped on the arms of her chair, her + lids dropped under Anna’s gaze; then she said: “I should like to make no + plans at all ... just yet...” + </p> + <p> + “No plans?” + </p> + <p> + “No—I should like to go away ... my friends the Farlows would let me + go to them...” Her voice grew firmer and she lifted her eyes to add: “I + should like to leave today, if you don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + Anna listened with a rising wonder. + </p> + <p> + “You want to leave Givre at once?” She gave the idea a moment’s swift + consideration. “You prefer to be with your friends till your marriage? I + understand that—but surely you needn’t rush off today? There are so + many details to discuss; and before long, you know, I shall be going away + too.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know.” The girl was evidently trying to steady her voice. “But I + should like to wait a few days—to have a little more time to + myself.” + </p> + <p> + Anna continued to consider her kindly. It was evident that she did not + care to say why she wished to leave Givre so suddenly, but her disturbed + face and shaken voice betrayed a more pressing motive than the natural + desire to spend the weeks before her marriage under her old friends’ roof. + Since she had made no response to the allusion to Madame de Chantelle, + Anna could but conjecture that she had had a passing disagreement with + Owen; and if this were so, random interference might do more harm than + good. + </p> + <p> + “My dear child, if you really want to go at once I sha’n’t, of course, + urge you to stay. I suppose you have spoken to Owen?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Not yet...” + </p> + <p> + Anna threw an astonished glance at her. “You mean to say you haven’t told + him?” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to tell you first. I thought I ought to, on account of Effie.” + Her look cleared as she put forth this reason. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Effie!—” Anna’s smile brushed away the scruple. “Owen has a + right to ask that you should consider him before you think of his + sister.... Of course you shall do just as you wish,” she went on, after + another thoughtful interval. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you,” Sophy Viner murmured and rose to her feet. + </p> + <p> + Anna rose also, vaguely seeking for some word that should break down the + girl’s resistance. “You’ll tell Owen at once?” she finally asked. + </p> + <p> + Miss Viner, instead of replying, stood before her in manifest uncertainty, + and as she did so there was a light tap on the door, and Owen Leath walked + into the room. + </p> + <p> + Anna’s first glance told her that his face was unclouded. He met her + greeting with his happiest smile and turned to lift Sophy’s hand to his + lips. The perception that he was utterly unconscious of any cause for Miss + Viner’s agitation came to his step-mother with a sharp thrill of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Darrow’s looking for you,” he said to her. “He asked me to remind you + that you’d promised to go for a walk with him.” + </p> + <p> + Anna glanced at the clock. “I’ll go down presently.” She waited and looked + again at Sophy Viner, whose troubled eyes seemed to commit their message + to her. “You’d better tell Owen, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + Owen’s look also turned on the girl. “Tell me what? Why, what’s happened?” + </p> + <p> + Anna summoned a laugh to ease the vague tension of the moment. “Don’t look + so startled! Nothing, except that Sophy proposes to desert us for a while + for the Farlows.” + </p> + <p> + Owen’s brow cleared. “I was afraid she’d run off before long.” He glanced + at Anna. “Do please keep her here as long as you can!” + </p> + <p> + Sophy intervened: “Mrs. Leath’s already given me leave to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Already? To go when?” + </p> + <p> + “Today,” said Sophy in a low tone, her eyes on Anna’s. + </p> + <p> + “Today? Why on earth should you go today?” Owen dropped back a step or + two, flushing and paling under his bewildered frown. His eyes seemed to + search the girl more closely. “Something’s happened.” He too looked at his + step-mother. “I suppose she must have told you what it is?” + </p> + <p> + Anna was struck by the suddenness and vehemence of his appeal. It was as + though some smouldering apprehension had lain close under the surface of + his security. + </p> + <p> + “She’s told me nothing except that she wishes to be with her friends. It’s + quite natural that she should want to go to them.” + </p> + <p> + Owen visibly controlled himself. “Of course—quite natural.” He spoke + to Sophy. “But why didn’t you tell me so? Why did you come first to my + step-mother?” + </p> + <p> + Anna intervened with her calm smile. “That seems to me quite natural, too. + Sophy was considerate enough to tell me first because of Effie.” + </p> + <p> + He weighed it. “Very well, then: that’s quite natural, as you say. And of + course she must do exactly as she pleases.” He still kept his eyes on the + girl. “Tomorrow,” he abruptly announced, “I shall go up to Paris to see + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no—no!” she protested. + </p> + <p> + Owen turned back to Anna. “<i>Now</i> do you say that nothing’s happened?” + </p> + <p> + Under the influence of his agitation Anna felt a vague tightening of the + heart. She seemed to herself like some one in a dark room about whom + unseen presences are groping. + </p> + <p> + “If it’s anything that Sophy wishes to tell you, no doubt she’ll do so. + I’m going down now, and I’ll leave you here to talk it over by + yourselves.” + </p> + <p> + As she moved to the door the girl caught up with her. “But there’s nothing + to tell: why should there be? I’ve explained that I simply want to be + quiet.” Her look seemed to detain Mrs. Leath. + </p> + <p> + Owen broke in: “Is that why I mayn’t go up tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Not tomorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Then when may I?” + </p> + <p> + “Later ... in a little while ... a few days...” + </p> + <p> + “In how many days?” “Owen!” his step-mother interposed; but he seemed no + longer aware of her. “If you go away today, the day that our engagement’s + made known, it’s only fair,” he persisted, “that you should tell me when I + am to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Sophy’s eyes wavered between the two and dropped down wearily. “It’s you + who are not fair—when I’ve said I wanted to be quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should my coming disturb you? I’m not asking now to come + tomorrow. I only ask you not to leave without telling me when I’m to see + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Owen, I don’t understand you!” his step-mother exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t understand my asking for some explanation, some assurance, when + I’m left in this way, without a word, without a sign? All I ask her to + tell me is when she’ll see me.” + </p> + <p> + Anna turned back to Sophy Viner, who stood straight and tremulous between + the two. + </p> + <p> + “After all, my dear, he’s not unreasonable!” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll write—I’ll write,” the girl repeated. + </p> + <p> + “WHAT will you write?” he pressed her vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “Owen,” Anna exclaimed, “you are unreasonable!” + </p> + <p> + He turned from Sophy to his step-mother. “I only want her to say what she + means: that she’s going to write to break off our engagement. Isn’t that + what you’re going away for?” + </p> + <p> + Anna felt the contagion of his excitement. She looked at Sophy, who stood + motionless, her lips set, her whole face drawn to a silent fixity of + resistance. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to speak, my dear—you ought to answer him.” + </p> + <p> + “I only ask him to wait——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” Owen, broke in, “and you won’t say how long!” + </p> + <p> + Both instinctively addressed themselves to Anna, who stood, nearly as + shaken as themselves, between the double shock of their struggle. She + looked again from Sophy’s inscrutable eyes to Owen’s stormy features; then + she said: “What can I do, when there’s clearly something between you that + I don’t know about?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if it <i>were</i> between us! Can’t you see it’s outside of us—outside + of her, dragging at her, dragging her away from me?” Owen wheeled round + again upon his step-mother. + </p> + <p> + Anna turned from him to the girl. “Is it true that you want to break your + engagement? If you do, you ought to tell him now.” + </p> + <p> + Owen burst into a laugh. “She doesn’t dare to—she’s afraid I’ll + guess the reason!” + </p> + <p> + A faint sound escaped from Sophy’s lips, but she kept them close on + whatever answer she had ready. + </p> + <p> + “If she doesn’t wish to marry you, why should she be afraid to have you + know the reason?” + </p> + <p> + “She’s afraid to have <i>you</i> know it—not me!” + </p> + <p> + “To have <i>me</i> know it?” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again, and Anna, at his laugh, felt a sudden rush of + indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Owen, you must explain what you mean!” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her hard before answering; then: “Ask Darrow!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Owen—Owen!” Sophy Viner murmured. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV + </h2> + <p> + Anna stood looking from one to the other. It had become apparent to her in + a flash that Owen’s retort, though it startled Sophy, did not take her by + surprise; and the discovery shot its light along dark distances of fear. + </p> + <p> + The immediate inference was that Owen had guessed the reason of Darrow’s + disapproval of his marriage, or that, at least, he suspected Sophy Viner + of knowing and dreading it. This confirmation of her own obscure doubt + sent a tremor of alarm through Anna. For a moment she felt like + exclaiming: “All this is really no business of mine, and I refuse to have + you mix me up in it—” but her secret fear held her fast. + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner was the first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to go now,” she said in a low voice, taking a few steps + toward the door. + </p> + <p> + Her tone woke Anna to the sense of her own share in the situation. “I + quite agree with you, my dear, that it’s useless to carry on this + discussion. But since Mr. Darrow’s name has been brought into it, for + reasons which I fail to guess, I want to tell you that you’re both + mistaken if you think he’s not in sympathy with your marriage. If that’s + what Owen means to imply, the idea’s a complete delusion.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke the words deliberately and incisively, as if hoping that the + sound of their utterance would stifle the whisper in her bosom. + </p> + <p> + Sophy’s only answer was a vague murmur, and a movement that brought her + nearer to the door; but before she could reach it Owen had placed himself + in her way. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean to imply what you think,” he said, addressing his + step-mother but keeping his eyes on the girl. “I don’t say Darrow doesn’t + like our marriage; I say it’s Sophy who’s hated it since Darrow’s been + here!” + </p> + <p> + He brought out the charge in a tone of forced composure, but his lips were + white and he grasped the doorknob to hide the tremor of his hand. + </p> + <p> + Anna’s anger surged up with her fears. “You’re absurd, Owen! I don’t know + why I listen to you. Why should Sophy dislike Mr. Darrow, and if she does, + why should that have anything to do with her wishing to break her + engagement?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say she dislikes him! I don’t say she likes him; I don’t know + what it is they say to each other when they’re shut up together alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up together alone?” Anna stared. Owen seemed like a man in delirium; + such an exhibition was degrading to them all. But he pushed on without + seeing her look. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—the first evening she came, in the study; the next morning, + early, in the park; yesterday, again, in the spring-house, when you were + at the lodge with the doctor.... I don’t know what they say to each other, + but they’ve taken every chance they could to say it ... and to say it when + they thought that no one saw them.” + </p> + <p> + Anna longed to silence him, but no words came to her. It was as though all + her confused apprehensions had suddenly taken definite shape. There was + “something”—yes, there was “something”...Darrow’s reticences and + evasions had been more than a figment of her doubts. + </p> + <p> + The next instant brought a recoil of pride. She turned indignantly on her + step-son. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t half understand what you’ve been saying; but what you seem to + hint is so preposterous, and so insulting both to Sophy and to me, that I + see no reason why we should listen to you any longer.” + </p> + <p> + Though her tone steadied Owen, she perceived at once that it would not + deflect him from his purpose. He spoke less vehemently, but with all the + more precision. + </p> + <p> + “How can it be preposterous, since it’s true? Or insulting, since I don’t + know, any more than <i>you</i>, the meaning of what I’ve been seeing? If you’ll + be patient with me I’ll try to put it quietly. What I mean is that Sophy + has completely changed since she met Darrow here, and that, having noticed + the change, I’m hardly to blame for having tried to find out its cause.” + </p> + <p> + Anna made an effort to answer him with the same composure. “You’re to + blame, at any rate, for so recklessly assuming that you <i>have</i> found it out. + You seem to forget that, till they met here, Sophy and Mr. Darrow hardly + knew each other.” + </p> + <p> + “If so, it’s all the stranger that they’ve been so often closeted + together!” + </p> + <p> + “Owen, Owen—” the girl sighed out. + </p> + <p> + He turned his haggard face to her. “Can I help it, if I’ve seen and known + what I wasn’t meant to? For God’s sake give me a reason—any reason I + can decently make out with! Is it my fault if, the day after you arrived, + when I came back late through the garden, the curtains of the study hadn’t + been drawn, and I saw you there alone with Darrow?” + </p> + <p> + Anna laughed impatiently. “Really, Owen, if you make it a grievance that + two people who are staying in the same house should be seen talking + together——!” + </p> + <p> + “They were not talking. That’s the point——” + </p> + <p> + “Not talking? How do you know? You could hardly hear them from the + garden!” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I could see. <i>he</i> was sitting at my desk, with his face in his + hands. <i>she</i> was standing in the window, looking away from him...” + </p> + <p> + He waited, as if for Sophy Viner’s answer; but still she neither stirred + nor spoke. + </p> + <p> + “That was the first time,” he went on; “and the second was the next + morning in the park. It was natural enough, their meeting there. Sophy had + gone out with Effie, and Effie ran back to look for me. She told me she’d + left Sophy and Darrow in the path that leads to the river, and presently + we saw them ahead of us. They didn’t see us at first, because they were + standing looking at each other; and this time they were not speaking + either. We came up close before they heard us, and all that time they + never spoke, or stopped looking at each other. After that I began to + wonder; and so I watched them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Owen!” “Oh, I only had to wait. Yesterday, when I motored you and the + doctor back from the lodge, I saw Sophy coming out of the spring-house. I + supposed she’d taken shelter from the rain, and when you got out of the + motor I strolled back down the avenue to meet her. But she’d disappeared—she + must have taken a short cut and come into the house by the side door. I + don’t know why I went on to the spring-house; I suppose it was what you’d + call spying. I went up the steps and found the room empty; but two chairs + had been moved out from the wall and were standing near the table; and one + of the Chinese screens that lie on it had dropped to the floor.” + </p> + <p> + Anna sounded a faint note of irony. “Really? Sophy’d gone there for + shelter, and she dropped a screen and moved a chair?” + </p> + <p> + “I said two chairs——” + </p> + <p> + “Two? What damning evidence—of I don’t know what!” + </p> + <p> + “Simply of the fact that Darrow’d been there with her. As I looked out of + the window I saw him close by, walking away. He must have turned the + corner of the spring-house just as I got to the door.” + </p> + <p> + There was another silence, during which Anna paused, not only to collect + her own words but to wait for Sophy Viner’s; then, as the girl made no + sign, she turned to her. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve absolutely nothing to say to all this; but perhaps you’d like me to + wait and hear your answer?” + </p> + <p> + Sophy raised her head with a quick flash of colour. “I’ve no answer either—except + that Owen must be mad.” + </p> + <p> + In the interval since she had last spoken she seemed to have regained her + self-control, and her voice rang clear, with a cold edge of anger. + </p> + <p> + Anna looked at her step-son. He had grown extremely pale, and his hand + fell from the door with a discouraged gesture. “That’s all then? You won’t + give me any reason?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t suppose it was necessary to give you or any one else a reason + for talking with a friend of Mrs. Leath’s under Mrs. Leath’s own roof.” + </p> + <p> + Owen hardly seemed to feel the retort: he kept his dogged stare on her + face. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t ask for one, then. I’ll only ask you to give me your assurance + that your talks with Darrow have had nothing to do with your suddenly + deciding to leave Givre.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, not so much with the air of weighing her answer as of + questioning his right to exact any. “I give you my assurance; and now I + should like to go,” she said. + </p> + <p> + As she turned away, Anna intervened. “My dear, I think you ought to + speak.” + </p> + <p> + The girl drew herself up with a faint laugh. “To him—or to <i>you</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “To him.” + </p> + <p> + She stiffened. “I’ve said all there is to say.” + </p> + <p> + Anna drew back, her eyes on her step-son. He had left the threshold and + was advancing toward Sophy Viner with a motion of desperate appeal; but as + he did so there was a knock on the door. A moment’s silence fell on the + three; then Anna said: “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + Darrow came into the room. Seeing the three together, he looked rapidly + from one to the other; then he turned to Anna with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “I came up to see if you were ready; but please send me off if I’m not + wanted.” + </p> + <p> + His look, his voice, the simple sense of his presence, restored Anna’s + shaken balance. By Owen’s side he looked so strong, so urbane, so + experienced, that the lad’s passionate charges dwindled to mere boyish + vapourings. A moment ago she had dreaded Darrow’s coming; now she was glad + that he was there. + </p> + <p> + She turned to him with sudden decision. “Come in, please; I want you to + hear what Owen has been saying.” + </p> + <p> + She caught a murmur from Sophy Viner, but disregarded it. An illuminating + impulse urged her on. She, habitually so aware of her own lack of + penetration, her small skill in reading hidden motives and detecting + secret signals, now felt herself mysteriously inspired. She addressed + herself to Sophy Viner. “It’s much better for you both that this absurd + question should be cleared up now.” Then, turning to Darrow, she + continued: “For some reason that I don’t pretend to guess, Owen has taken + it into his head that you’ve influenced Miss Viner to break her + engagement.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke slowly and deliberately, because she wished to give time and to + gain it; time for Darrow and Sophy to receive the full impact of what she + was saying, and time to observe its full effect on them. She had said to + herself: “If there’s nothing between them, they’ll look at each other; if + there <i>is</i> something, they won’t;” and as she ceased to speak she felt as if + all her life were in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Sophy, after a start of protest, remained motionless, her gaze on the + ground. Darrow, his face grown grave, glanced slowly from Owen Leath to + Anna. With his eyes on the latter he asked: “Has Miss Viner broken her + engagement?” + </p> + <p> + A moment’s silence followed his question; then the girl looked up and + said: “Yes!” + </p> + <p> + Owen, as she spoke, uttered a smothered exclamation and walked out of the + room. She continued to stand in the same place, without appearing to + notice his departure, and without vouchsafing an additional word of + explanation; then, before Anna could find a cry to detain her, she too + turned and went out. + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, what’s happened?” Darrow asked; but Anna, with a drop of + the heart, was saying to herself that he and Sophy Viner had not looked at + each other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV + </h2> + <p> + Anna stood in the middle of the room, her eyes on the door. Darrow’s + questioning gaze was still on her, and she said to herself with a + quick-drawn breath: “If only he doesn’t come near me!” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her that she had been suddenly endowed with the fatal gift of + reading the secret sense of every seemingly spontaneous look and movement, + and that in his least gesture of affection she would detect a cold design. + </p> + <p> + For a moment longer he continued to look at her enquiringly; then he + turned away and took up his habitual stand by the mantel-piece. She drew a + deep breath of relief. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you please explain?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t explain: I don’t know. I didn’t even know—till she told you—that + she really meant to break her engagement. All I know is that she came to + me just now and said she wished to leave Givre today; and that Owen, when + he heard of it—for she hadn’t told him—at once accused her of + going away with the secret intention of throwing him over.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think it’s a definite break?” She perceived, as she spoke, that + his brow had cleared. + </p> + <p> + “How should I know? Perhaps you can tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” She fancied his face clouded again, but he did not move from his + tranquil attitude. + </p> + <p> + “As I told you,” she went on, “Owen has worked himself up to imagining + that for some mysterious reason you’ve influenced Sophy against him.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow still visibly wondered. “It must indeed be a mysterious reason! He + knows how slightly I know Miss Viner. Why should he imagine anything so + wildly improbable?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that either.” + </p> + <p> + “But he must have hinted at some reason.” + </p> + <p> + “No: he admits he doesn’t know your reason. He simply says that Sophy’s + manner to him has changed since she came back to Givre and that he’s seen + you together several times—in the park, the spring-house, I don’t + know where—talking alone in a way that seemed confidential—almost + secret; and he draws the preposterous conclusion that you’ve used your + influence to turn her against him.” + </p> + <p> + “My influence? What kind of influence?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t say.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow again seemed to turn over the facts she gave him. His face remained + grave, but without the least trace of discomposure. “And what does Miss + Viner say?” + </p> + <p> + “She says it’s perfectly natural that she should occasionally talk to my + friends when she’s under my roof—and refuses to give him any other + explanation.” + </p> + <p> + “That at least is perfectly natural!” + </p> + <p> + Anna felt her cheeks flush as she answered: “Yes—but there is + something——” + </p> + <p> + “Something——?” + </p> + <p> + “Some reason for her sudden decision to break her engagement. I can + understand Owen’s feeling, sorry as I am for his way of showing it. The + girl owes him some sort of explanation, and as long as she refuses to give + it his imagination is sure to run wild.” + </p> + <p> + “She would have given it, no doubt, if he’d asked it in a different tone.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t defend Owen’s tone—but she knew what it was before she + accepted him. She knows he’s excitable and undisciplined.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she’s been disciplining him a little—probably the best thing + that could happen. Why not let the matter rest there?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave Owen with the idea that you <i>have</i> been the cause of the break?” + </p> + <p> + He met the question with his easy smile. “Oh, as to that—leave him + with any idea of me he chooses! But leave him, at any rate, free.” + </p> + <p> + “Free?” she echoed in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Simply let things be. You’ve surely done all you could for him and Miss + Viner. If they don’t hit it off it’s their own affair. What possible + motive can you have for trying to interfere now?” + </p> + <p> + Her gaze widened to a deeper wonder. “Why—naturally, what he says of + you!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care a straw what he says of me! In such a situation a boy in + love will snatch at the most far-fetched reason rather than face the + mortifying fact that the lady may simply be tired of him.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t quite understand Owen. Things go deep with him, and last long. + It took him a long time to recover from his other unlucky love affair. + He’s romantic and extravagant: he can’t live on the interest of his + feelings. He worships Sophy and she seemed to be fond of him. If she’s + changed it’s been very sudden. And if they part like this, angrily and + inarticulately, it will hurt him horribly—hurt his very soul. But + that, as you say, is between the two. What concerns me is his associating + you with their quarrel. Owen’s like my own son—if you’d seen him + when I first came here you’d know why. We were like two prisoners who talk + to each other by tapping on the wall. He’s never forgotten it, nor I. + Whether he breaks with Sophy, or whether they make it up, I can’t let him + think you had anything to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes entreatingly to Darrow’s, and read in them the + forbearance of the man resigned to the discussion of non-existent + problems. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he said; “but I don’t yet know what it + is.” + </p> + <p> + His smile seemed to charge her with inconsequence, and the prick to her + pride made her continue: “After all, it’s not so unnatural that Owen, + knowing you and Sophy to be almost strangers, should wonder what you were + saying to each other when he saw you talking together.” + </p> + <p> + She felt a warning tremor as she spoke, as though some instinct deeper + than reason surged up in defense of its treasure. But Darrow’s face was + unstirred save by the flit of his half-amused smile. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear—and couldn’t you have told him?” “I?” she faltered + out through her blush. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to forget, one and all of you, the position you put me in when I + came down here: your appeal to me to see Owen through, your assurance to + him that I would, Madame de Chantelle’s attempt to win me over; and most + of all, my own sense of the fact you’ve just recalled to me: the + importance, for both of us, that Owen should like me. It seemed to me that + the first thing to do was to get as much light as I could on the whole + situation; and the obvious way of doing it was to try to know Miss Viner + better. Of course I’ve talked with her alone—I’ve talked with her as + often as I could. I’ve tried my best to find out if you were right in + encouraging Owen to marry her.” + </p> + <p> + She listened with a growing sense of reassurance, struggling to separate + the abstract sense of his words from the persuasion in which his eyes and + voice enveloped them. + </p> + <p> + “I see—I do see,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “You must see, also, that I could hardly say this to Owen without + offending him still more, and perhaps increasing the breach between Miss + Viner and himself. What sort of figure should I cut if I told him I’d been + trying to find out if he’d made a proper choice? In any case, it’s none of + my business to offer an explanation of what she justly says doesn’t need + one. If she declines to speak, it’s obviously on the ground that Owen’s + insinuations are absurd; and that surely pledges me to silence.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! I see,” Anna repeated. “But I don’t want you to explain + anything to Owen.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t yet told me what you do want.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, conscious of the difficulty of justifying her request; + then: “I want you to speak to Sophy,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke into an incredulous laugh. “Considering what my previous + attempts have resulted in——!” + </p> + <p> + She raised her eyes quickly. “They haven’t, at least, resulted in your + liking her less, in your thinking less well of her than you’ve told me?” + </p> + <p> + She fancied he frowned a little. “I wonder why you go back to that?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to be sure—I owe it to Owen. Won’t you tell me the exact + impression she’s produced on you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you—I like Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you still believe she’s in love with Owen?” + </p> + <p> + “There was nothing in our short talks to throw any particular light on + that.” + </p> + <p> + “You still believe, though, that there’s no reason why he shouldn’t marry + her?” + </p> + <p> + Again he betrayed a restrained impatience. “How can I answer that without + knowing her reasons for breaking with him?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I want you to find out from her.” + </p> + <p> + “And why in the world should she tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, whatever grievance she has against Owen, she can certainly have + none against me. She can’t want to have Owen connect me in his mind with + this wretched quarrel; and she must see that he will until he’s convinced + you’ve had no share in it.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow’s elbow dropped from the mantel-piece and he took a restless step + or two across the room. Then he halted before her. + </p> + <p> + “Why can’t you tell her this yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + He eyed her intently, and she pressed on: “You must have guessed that + Owen’s jealous of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Jealous of me?” The blood flew up under his brown skin. + </p> + <p> + “Blind with it—what else would drive him to this folly? And I can’t + have her think me jealous too! I’ve said all I could, short of making her + think so; and she’s refused a word more to either of us. Our only chance + now is that she should listen to you—that you should make her see + the harm her silence may do.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow uttered a protesting exclamation. “It’s all too preposterous—what + you suggest! I can’t, at any rate, appeal to her on such a ground as + that!” + </p> + <p> + Anna laid her hand on his arm. “Appeal to her on the ground that I’m + almost Owen’s mother, and that any estrangement between you and him would + kill me. She knows what he is—she’ll understand. Tell her to say + anything, do anything, she wishes; but not to go away without speaking, + not to leave <i>that</i> between us when she goes!” + </p> + <p> + She drew back a step and lifted her face to his, trying to look into his + eyes more deeply than she had ever looked; but before she could discern + what they expressed he had taken hold of her hands and bent his head to + kiss them. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll see her? You’ll see her?” she entreated; and he answered: “I’ll do + anything in the world you want me to.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI + </h2> + <p> + Darrow waited alone in the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + No place could have been more distasteful as the scene of the talk that + lay before him; but he had acceded to Anna’s suggestion that it would seem + more natural for her to summon Sophy Viner than for him to go in search of + her. As his troubled pacings carried him back and forth a relentless hand + seemed to be tearing away all the tender fibres of association that bound + him to the peaceful room. Here, in this very place, he had drunk his + deepest draughts of happiness, had had his lips at the fountain-head of + its overflowing rivers; but now that source was poisoned and he would + taste no more of an untainted cup. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he felt an actual physical anguish; then his nerves hardened + for the coming struggle. He had no notion of what awaited him; but after + the first instinctive recoil he had seen in a flash the urgent need of + another word with Sophy Viner. He had been insincere in letting Anna think + that he had consented to speak because she asked it. In reality he had + been feverishly casting about for the pretext she had given him; and for + some reason this trivial hypocrisy weighed on him more than all his heavy + burden of deceit. + </p> + <p> + At length he heard a step behind him and Sophy Viner entered. When she saw + him she paused on the threshold and half drew back. + </p> + <p> + “I was told that Mrs. Leath had sent for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Leath <i>did</i> send for you. She’ll be here presently; but I asked her to + let me see you first.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke very gently, and there was no insincerity in his gentleness. He + was profoundly moved by the change in the girl’s appearance. At sight of + him she had forced a smile; but it lit up her wretchedness like a + candle-flame held to a dead face. + </p> + <p> + She made no reply, and Darrow went on: “You must understand my wanting to + speak to you, after what I was told just now.” + </p> + <p> + She interposed, with a gesture of protest: “I’m not responsible for Owen’s + ravings!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course——”. He broke off and they stood facing each other. + She lifted a hand and pushed back her loose lock with the gesture that was + burnt into his memory; then she looked about her and dropped into the + nearest chair. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’ve got what you wanted,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by what I wanted?” + </p> + <p> + “My engagement’s broken—you heard me say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say that’s what I wanted? All I wished, from the beginning, + was to advise you, to help you as best I could——” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what you’ve done,” she rejoined. “You’ve convinced me that it’s + best I shouldn’t marry him.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke into a despairing laugh. “At the very moment when you’d + convinced me to the contrary!” + </p> + <p> + “Had I?” Her smile flickered up. “Well, I really believed it till you + showed me ... warned me...” + </p> + <p> + “Warned you?” + </p> + <p> + “That I’d be miserable if I married a man I didn’t love.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you love him?” + </p> + <p> + She made no answer, and Darrow started up and walked away to the other end + of the room. He stopped before the writing-table, where his photograph, + well-dressed, handsome, self-sufficient—the portrait of a man of the + world, confident of his ability to deal adequately with the most delicate + situations—offered its huge fatuity to his gaze. He turned back to + her. “It’s rather hard on Owen, isn’t it, that you should have waited + until now to tell him?” + </p> + <p> + She reflected a moment before answering. “I told him as soon as I knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Knew that you couldn’t marry him?” + </p> + <p> + “Knew that I could never live here with him.” She looked about the room, + as though the very walls must speak for her. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Darrow continued to search her face perplexedly; then their + eyes met in a long disastrous gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Yes——” she said, and stood up. + </p> + <p> + Below the window they heard Effie whistling for her dogs, and then, from + the terrace, her mother calling her. + </p> + <p> + “There—<i>that</i> for instance,” Sophy Viner said. + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke out: “It’s I who ought to go!” + </p> + <p> + She kept her small pale smile. “What good would that do any of us—now?” + </p> + <p> + He covered his face with his hands. “Good God!” he groaned. “How could I + tell?” + </p> + <p> + “You couldn’t tell. We neither of us could.” She seemed to turn the + problem over critically. “After all, it might have been <i>you</i> instead of + me!” + </p> + <p> + He took another distracted turn about the room and coming back to her sat + down in a chair at her side. A mocking hand seemed to dash the words from + his lips. There was nothing on earth that he could say to her that wasn’t + foolish or cruel or contemptible... + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” he began at last, “oughtn’t you, at any rate, to try?” + </p> + <p> + Her gaze grew grave. “Try to forget you?” + </p> + <p> + He flushed to the forehead. “I meant, try to give Owen more time; to give + him a chance. He’s madly in love with you; all the good that’s in him is + in your hands. His step-mother felt that from the first. And she thought—she + believed——” + </p> + <p> + “She thought I could make him happy. Would she think so now?” + </p> + <p> + “Now...? I don’t say now. But later? Time modifies ... rubs out ... more + quickly than you think.... Go away, but let him hope.... I’m going too—<i>we’re</i> + going—” he stumbled on the plural—“in a very few weeks: going + for a long time, probably. What you’re thinking of now may never happen. + We may not all be here together again for years.” + </p> + <p> + She heard him out in silence, her hands clasped on her knee, her eyes bent + on them. “For me,” she said, “you’ll always be here.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say that—oh, don’t! Things change ... people change.... You’ll + see!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t understand. I don’t want anything to change. I don’t want to + forget—to rub out. At first I imagined I did; but that was a foolish + mistake. As soon as I saw you again I knew it.... It’s not being here with + you that I’m afraid of—in the sense you think. It’s being here, or + anywhere, with Owen.” She stood up and bent her tragic smile on him. “I + want to keep you all to myself.” + </p> + <p> + The only words that came to him were futile denunciations of his folly; + but the sense of their futility checked them on his lips. “Poor child—you + poor child!” he heard himself vainly repeating. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he felt the strong reaction of reality and its impetus brought + him to his feet. “Whatever happens, I intend to go—to go for good,” + he exclaimed. “I want you to understand that. Oh, don’t be afraid—I’ll + find a reason. But it’s perfectly clear that I must go.” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a protesting cry. “Go away? You? Don’t you see that that would + tell everything—drag everybody into the horror?” + </p> + <p> + He found no answer, and her voice dropped back to its calmer note. “What + good would your going do? Do you suppose it would change anything for me?” + She looked at him with a musing wistfulness. “I wonder what your feeling + for me was? It seems queer that I’ve never really known—I suppose we + <i>don’t</i> know much about that kind of feeling. Is it like taking a drink when + you’re thirsty?... I used to feel as if all of me was in the palm of your + hand...” + </p> + <p> + He bowed his humbled head, but she went on almost exultantly: “Don’t for a + minute think I’m sorry! It was worth every penny it cost. My mistake was + in being ashamed, just at first, of its having cost such a lot. I tried to + carry it off as a joke—to talk of it to myself as an ‘adventure’. + I’d always wanted adventures, and you’d given me one, and I tried to take + your attitude about it, to ‘play the game’ and convince myself that I + hadn’t risked any more on it than you. Then, when I met you again, I + suddenly saw that I <i>had</i> risked more, but that I’d won more, too—such + worlds! I’d been trying all the while to put everything I could between + us; now I want to sweep everything away. I’d been trying to forget how you + looked; now I want to remember you always. I’d been trying not to hear + your voice; now I never want to hear any other. I’ve made my choice—that’s + all: I’ve had you and I mean to keep you.” Her face was shining like her + eyes. “To keep you hidden away here,” she ended, and put her hand upon her + breast. + </p> + <p> + After she had left him, Darrow continued to sit motionless, staring back + into their past. Hitherto it had lingered on the edge of his mind in a + vague pink blur, like one of the little rose-leaf clouds that a setting + sun drops from its disk. Now it was a huge looming darkness, through which + his eyes vainly strained. The whole episode was still obscure to him, save + where here and there, as they talked, some phrase or gesture or intonation + of the girl’s had lit up a little spot in the night. + </p> + <p> + She had said: “I wonder what your feeling for me was?” and he found + himself wondering too.... He remembered distinctly enough that he had not + meant the perilous passion—even in its most transient form—to + play a part in their relation. In that respect his attitude had been above + reproach. She was an unusually original and attractive creature, to whom + he had wanted to give a few days of harmless pleasuring, and who was alert + and expert enough to understand his intention and spare him the boredom of + hesitations and misinterpretations. That had been his first impression, + and her subsequent demeanour had justified it. She had been, from the + outset, just the frank and easy comrade he had expected to find her. Was + it he, then, who, in the sequel, had grown impatient of the bounds he had + set himself? Was it his wounded vanity that, seeking balm for its hurt, + yearned to dip deeper into the healing pool of her compassion? In his + confused memory of the situation he seemed not to have been guiltless of + such yearnings.... Yet for the first few days the experiment had been + perfectly successful. Her enjoyment had been unclouded and his pleasure in + it undisturbed. It was very gradually—he seemed to see—that a + shade of lassitude had crept over their intercourse. Perhaps it was + because, when her light chatter about people failed, he found she had no + other fund to draw on, or perhaps simply because of the sweetness of her + laugh, or of the charm of the gesture with which, one day in the woods of + Marly, she had tossed off her hat and tilted back her head at the call of + a cuckoo; or because, whenever he looked at her unexpectedly, he found + that she was looking at him and did not want him to know it; or perhaps, + in varying degrees, because of all these things, that there had come a + moment when no word seemed to fly high enough or dive deep enough to utter + the sense of well-being each gave to the other, and the natural substitute + for speech had been a kiss. + </p> + <p> + The kiss, at all events, had come at the precise moment to save their + venture from disaster. They had reached the point when her amazing + reminiscences had begun to flag, when her future had been exhaustively + discussed, her theatrical prospects minutely studied, her quarrel with + Mrs. Murrett retold with the last amplification of detail, and when, + perhaps conscious of her exhausted resources and his dwindling interest, + she had committed the fatal error of saying that she could see he was + unhappy, and entreating him to tell her why... + </p> + <p> + From the brink of estranging confidences, and from the risk of + unfavourable comparisons, his gesture had snatched her back to safety; and + as soon as he had kissed her he felt that she would never bore him again. + She was one of the elemental creatures whose emotion is all in their + pulses, and who become inexpressive or sentimental when they try to turn + sensation into speech. His caress had restored her to her natural place in + the scheme of things, and Darrow felt as if he had clasped a tree and a + nymph had bloomed from it... + </p> + <p> + The mere fact of not having to listen to her any longer added immensely to + her charm. She continued, of course, to talk to him, but it didn’t matter, + because he no longer made any effort to follow her words, but let her + voice run on as a musical undercurrent to his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She hadn’t a drop of poetry in her, but she had some of the qualities that + create it in others; and in moments of heat the imagination does not + always feel the difference... + </p> + <p> + Lying beside her in the shade, Darrow felt her presence as a part of the + charmed stillness of the summer woods, as the element of vague well-being + that suffused his senses and lulled to sleep the ache of wounded pride. + All he asked of her, as yet, was a touch on the hand or on the lips—and + that she should let him go on lying there through the long warm hours, + while a black-bird’s song throbbed like a fountain, and the summer wind + stirred in the trees, and close by, between the nearest branches and the + brim of his tilted hat, a slight white figure gathered up all the floating + threads of joy... + </p> + <p> + He recalled, too, having noticed, as he lay staring at a break in the + tree-tops, a stream of mares’-tails coming up the sky. He had said to + himself: “It will rain to-morrow,” and the thought had made the air seem + warmer and the sun more vivid on her hair.... Perhaps if the mares’-tails + had not come up the sky their adventure might have had no sequel. But the + cloud brought rain, and next morning he looked out of his window into a + cold grey blur. They had planned an all-day excursion down the Seine, to + the two Andelys and Rouen, and now, with the long hours on their hands, + they were both a little at a loss.... There was the Louvre, of course, and + the Luxembourg; but he had tried looking at pictures with her, she had + first so persistently admired the worst things, and then so frankly lapsed + into indifference, that he had no wish to repeat the experiment. So they + went out, aimlessly, and took a cold wet walk, turning at length into the + deserted arcades of the Palais Royal, and finally drifting into one of its + equally deserted restaurants, where they lunched alone and somewhat + dolefully, served by a wan old waiter with the look of a castaway who has + given up watching for a sail.... It was odd how the waiter’s face came back + to him... + </p> + <p> + Perhaps but for the rain it might never have happened; but what was the + use of thinking of that now? He tried to turn his thoughts to more urgent + issues; but, by a strange perversity of association, every detail of the + day was forcing itself on his mind with an insistence from which there was + no escape. Reluctantly he relived the long wet walk back to the hotel, + after a tedious hour at a cinematograph show on the Boulevard. It was + still raining when they withdrew from this stale spectacle, but she had + obstinately refused to take a cab, had even, on the way, insisted on + loitering under the dripping awnings of shop-windows and poking into + draughty passages, and finally, when they had nearly reached their + destination, had gone so far as to suggest that they should turn back to + hunt up some show she had heard of in a theatre at the Batignolles. But at + that he had somewhat irritably protested: he remembered that, for the + first time, they were both rather irritable, and vaguely disposed to + resist one another’s suggestions. His feet were wet, and he was tired of + walking, and sick of the smell of stuffy unaired theatres, and he had said + he must really get back to write some letters—and so they had kept + on to the hotel... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII + </h2> + <p> + Darrow had no idea how long he had sat there when he heard Anna’s hand on + the door. The effort of rising, and of composing his face to meet her, + gave him a factitious sense of self-control. He said to himself: “I must + decide on something——” and that lifted him a hair’s breadth + above the whirling waters. + </p> + <p> + She came in with a lighter step, and he instantly perceived that something + unforeseen and reassuring had happened. + </p> + <p> + “She’s been with me. She came and found me on the terrace. We’ve had a + long talk and she’s explained everything. I feel as if I’d never known her + before!” + </p> + <p> + Her voice was so moved and tender that it checked his start of + apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “She’s explained——?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s natural, isn’t it, that she should have felt a little sore at the + kind of inspection she’s been subjected to? Oh, not from you—I don’t + mean that! But Madame de Chantelle’s opposition—and her sending for + Adelaide Painter! She told me frankly she didn’t care to owe her husband + to Adelaide Painter.... She thinks now that her annoyance at feeling herself + so talked over and scrutinized may have shown itself in her manner to + Owen, and set him imagining the insane things he did.... I understand all + she must have felt, and I agree with her that it’s best she should go away + for a while. She’s made me,” Anna summed up, “feel as if I’d been + dreadfully thick-skinned and obtuse!” + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. As if I’d treated her like the bric-a-brac that used to be sent down + here ‘on approval,’ to see if it would look well with the other pieces.” + She added, with a sudden flush of enthusiasm: “I’m glad she’s got it in + her to make one feel like that!” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to wait for Darrow to agree with her, or to put some other + question, and he finally found voice to ask: “Then you think it’s not a + final break?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope not—I’ve never hoped it more! I had a word with Owen, too, + after I left her, and I think he understands that he must let her go + without insisting on any positive promise. She’s excited ... he must let her + calm down...” + </p> + <p> + Again she waited, and Darrow said: “Surely you can make him see that.” + </p> + <p> + “She’ll help me to—she’s to see him, of course, before she goes. She + starts immediately, by the way, with Adelaide Painter, who is motoring + over to Francheuil to catch the one o’clock express—and who, of + course, knows nothing of all this, and is simply to be told that Sophy has + been sent for by the Farlows.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow mutely signed his comprehension, and she went on: “Owen is + particularly anxious that neither Adelaide nor his grandmother should have + the least inkling of what’s happened. The need of shielding Sophy will + help him to control himself. He’s coming to his senses, poor boy; he’s + ashamed of his wild talk already. He asked me to tell you so; no doubt + he’ll tell you so himself.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow made a movement of protest. “Oh, as to that—the thing’s not + worth another word.” + </p> + <p> + “Or another thought, either?” She brightened. “Promise me you won’t even + think of it—promise me you won’t be hard on him!” + </p> + <p> + He was finding it easier to smile back at her. “Why should you think it + necessary to ask my indulgence for Owen?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a moment, her eyes wandering from him. Then they came back + with a smile. “Perhaps because I need it for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “For yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean, because I understand better how one can torture one’s self over + unrealities.” + </p> + <p> + As Darrow listened, the tension of his nerves began to relax. Her gaze, so + grave and yet so sweet, was like a deep pool into which he could plunge + and hide himself from the hard glare of his misery. As this ecstatic sense + enveloped him he found it more and more difficult to follow her words and + to frame an answer; but what did anything matter, except that her voice + should go on, and the syllables fall like soft touches on his tortured + brain? + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you know,” she continued, “the bliss of waking from a bad dream in + one’s own quiet room, and going slowly over all the horror without being + afraid of it any more? That’s what I’m doing now. And that’s why I + understand Owen...” She broke off, and he felt her touch on his arm. + “<i>Because I’d dreamed the horror too</i>!” + </p> + <p> + He understood her then, and stammered: “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me! And let me tell you!... It will help you to understand + Owen.... There <i>were</i> little things ... little signs ... once I had begun to watch + for them: your reluctance to speak about her ... her reserve with you ... a + sort of constraint we’d never seen in her before...” + </p> + <p> + She laughed up at him, and with her hands in his he contrived to say: “<i>Now</i> + you understand why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I understand; of course I understand; and I want you to laugh at me—with + me! Because there were other things too ... crazier things still.... There was + even—last night on the terrace—her pink cloak...” + </p> + <p> + “Her pink cloak?” Now he honestly wondered, and as she saw it she blushed. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve forgotten about the cloak? The pink cloak that Owen saw you with + at the play in Paris? Yes ... yes.... I was mad enough for that!... It does me + good to laugh about it now! But you ought to know that I’m going to be a + jealous woman ... a ridiculously jealous woman ... you ought to be warned of + it in time...” + </p> + <p> + He had dropped her hands, and she leaned close and lifted her arms to his + neck with one of her rare gestures of surrender. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know why it is; but it makes me happier now to have been so + foolish!” + </p> + <p> + Her lips were parted in a noiseless laugh and the tremor of her lashes + made their shadow move on her cheek. He looked at her through a mist of + pain and saw all her offered beauty held up like a cup to his lips; but as + he stooped to it a darkness seemed to fall between them, her arms slipped + from his shoulders and she drew away from him abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “But she <i>was</i> with you, then?” she exclaimed; and then, as he stared at + her: “Oh, don’t say no! Only go and look at your eyes!” + </p> + <p> + He stood speechless, and she pressed on: “Don’t deny it—oh, don’t + deny it! What will be left for me to imagine if you do? Don’t you see how + every single thing cries it out? Owen sees it—he saw it again just + now! When I told him she’d relented, and would see him, he said: ‘Is that + Darrow’s doing too?’” + </p> + <p> + Darrow took the onslaught in silence. He might have spoken, have summoned + up the usual phrases of banter and denial; he was not even certain that + they might not, for the moment, have served their purpose if he could have + uttered them without being seen. But he was as conscious of what had + happened to his face as if he had obeyed Anna’s bidding and looked at + himself in the glass. He knew he could no more hide from her what was + written there than he could efface from his soul the fiery record of what + he had just lived through. There before him, staring him in the eyes, and + reflecting itself in all his lineaments, was the overwhelming fact of + Sophy Viner’s passion and of the act by which she had attested it. + </p> + <p> + Anna was talking again, hurriedly, feverishly, and his soul was wrung by + the anguish in her voice. “Do speak at last—you must speak! I don’t + want to ask you to harm the girl; but you must see that your silence is + doing her more harm than your answering my questions could. You’re leaving + me only the worst things to think of her ... she’d see that herself if she + were here. What worse injury can you do her than to make me hate her—to + make me feel she’s plotted with you to deceive us?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not that!” Darrow heard his own voice before he was aware that he + meant to speak. “Yes; I did see her in Paris,” he went on after a pause; + “but I was bound to respect her reason for not wanting it known.” + </p> + <p> + Anna paled. “It was she at the theatre that night?” + </p> + <p> + “I was with her at the theatre one night.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should she have asked you not to say so?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn’t wish it known that I’d met her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t she have wished it known?” + </p> + <p> + “She had quarrelled with Mrs. Murrett and come over suddenly to Paris, and + she didn’t want the Farlows to hear of it. I came across her by accident, + and she asked me not to speak of having seen her.” + </p> + <p> + “Because of her quarrel? Because she was ashamed of her part in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. But the Farlows had + found the place for her, and she didn’t want them to know how suddenly + she’d had to leave, and how badly Mrs. Murrett had behaved. She was in a + terrible plight—the woman had even kept back her month’s salary. She + knew the Farlows would be awfully upset, and she wanted more time to + prepare them.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow heard himself speak as though the words had proceeded from other + lips. His explanation sounded plausible enough, and he half-fancied Anna’s + look grew lighter. She waited a moment, as though to be sure he had no + more to add; then she said: “But the Farlows <i>did</i> know; they told me all + about it when they sent her to me.” + </p> + <p> + He flushed as if she had laid a deliberate trap for him. “They may know + <i>now</i>; they didn’t then——” + </p> + <p> + “That’s no reason for her continuing now to make a mystery of having met + you.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s the only reason I can give you.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll go and ask her for one myself.” She turned and took a few steps + toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Anna!” He started to follow her, and then checked himself. “Don’t do + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not like you ... not generous...” + </p> + <p> + She stood before him straight and pale, but under her rigid face he saw + the tumult of her doubt and misery. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to be ungenerous; I don’t want to pry into her secrets. But + things can’t be left like this. Wouldn’t it be better for me to go to her? + Surely she’ll understand—she’ll explain.... It may be some mere trifle + she’s concealing: something that would horrify the Farlows, but that I + shouldn’t see any harm in...” She paused, her eyes searching his face. “A + love affair, I suppose ... that’s it? You met her with some man at the + theatre—and she was frightened and begged you to fib about it? Those + poor young things that have to go about among us like machines—oh, + if you knew how I pity them!” + </p> + <p> + “If you pity her, why not let her go?” + </p> + <p> + She stared. “Let her go—go for good, you mean? Is that the best you + can say for her?” + </p> + <p> + “Let things take their course. After all, it’s between herself and Owen.” + </p> + <p> + “And you and me—and Effie, if Owen marries her, and I leave my child + with them! Don’t you see the impossibility of what you’re asking? We’re + all bound together in this coil.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow turned away with a groan. “Oh, let her go—let her go.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there <i>is</i> something—something really bad? She <i>was</i> with some one + when you met her? Some one with whom she was——” She broke off, + and he saw her struggling with new thoughts. “If it’s <i>that</i>, of + course.... Oh, don’t you see,” she desperately appealed to him, “that I must + find out, and that it’s too late now for you not to speak? Don’t be afraid + that I’ll betray you.... I’ll never, never let a soul suspect. But I must + know the truth, and surely it’s best for her that I should find it out + from you.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow waited a moment; then he said slowly: “What you imagine’s mere + madness. She was at the theatre with me.” + </p> + <p> + “With you?” He saw a tremor pass through her, but she controlled it + instantly and faced him straight and motionless as a wounded creature in + the moment before it feels its wound. “Why should you both have made a + mystery of that?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told you the idea was not mine.” He cast about. “She may have been + afraid that Owen——” + </p> + <p> + “But that was not a reason for her asking you to tell me that you hardly + knew her—that you hadn’t even seen her for years.” She broke off and + the blood rose to her face and forehead. “Even if <i>she</i> had other reasons, + there could be only one reason for your obeying her——” Silence + fell between them, a silence in which the room seemed to become suddenly + resonant with voices. Darrow’s gaze wandered to the window and he noticed + that the gale of two days before had nearly stripped the tops of the + lime-trees in the court. Anna had moved away and was resting her elbows + against the mantel-piece, her head in her hands. As she stood there he + took in with a new intensity of vision little details of her appearance + that his eyes had often cherished: the branching blue veins in the backs + of her hands, the warm shadow that her hair cast on her ear, and the + colour of the hair itself, dull black with a tawny under-surface, like the + wings of certain birds. He felt it to be useless to speak. + </p> + <p> + After a while she lifted her head and said: “I shall not see her again + before she goes.” + </p> + <p> + He made no answer, and turning to him she added: “That is why she’s going, + I suppose? Because she loves you and won’t give you up?” + </p> + <p> + Darrow waited. The paltriness of conventional denial was so apparent to + him that even if it could have delayed discovery he could no longer have + resorted to it. Under all his other fears was the dread of dishonouring + the hour. + </p> + <p> + “She <i>has</i> given me up,” he said at last. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + When he had gone out of the room Anna stood where he had left her. “I must + believe him! I must believe him!” she said. + </p> + <p> + A moment before, at the moment when she had lifted her arms to his neck, + she had been wrapped in a sense of complete security. All the spirits of + doubt had been exorcised, and her love was once more the clear habitation + in which every thought and feeling could move in blissful freedom. And + then, as she raised her face to Darrow’s and met his eyes, she had seemed + to look into the very ruins of his soul. That was the only way she could + express it. It was as though he and she had been looking at two sides of + the same thing, and the side she had seen had been all light and life, and + his a place of graves... + </p> + <p> + She didn’t now recall who had spoken first, or even, very clearly, what + had been said. It seemed to her only a moment later that she had found + herself standing at the other end of the room—the room which had + suddenly grown so small that, even with its length between them, she felt + as if he touched her—crying out to him “It <i>is</i> because of you she’s + going!” and reading the avowal in his face. + </p> + <p> + That was his secret, then, <i>their</i> secret: he had met the girl in Paris and + helped her in her straits—lent her money, Anna vaguely conjectured—and + she had fallen in love with him, and on meeting him again had been + suddenly overmastered by her passion. Anna, dropping back into her + sofa-corner, sat staring these facts in the face. + </p> + <p> + The girl had been in a desperate plight—frightened, penniless, + outraged by what had happened, and not knowing (with a woman like Mrs. + Murrett) what fresh injury might impend; and Darrow, meeting her in this + distracted hour, had pitied, counselled, been kind to her, with the fatal, + the inevitable result. There were the facts as Anna made them out: that, + at least, was their external aspect, was as much of them as she had been + suffered to see; and into the secret intricacies they might cover she + dared not yet project her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “I must believe him.... I must believe him...” She kept on repeating the + words like a talisman. It was natural, after all, that he should have + behaved as he had: defended the girl’s piteous secret to the last. She too + began to feel the contagion of his pity—the stir, in her breast, of + feelings deeper and more native to her than the pains of jealousy. From + the security of her blessedness she longed to lean over with compassionate + hands.... But Owen? What was Owen’s part to be? She owed herself first to + him—she was bound to protect him not only from all knowledge of the + secret she had surprised, but also—and chiefly!—from its + consequences. Yes: the girl must go—there could be no doubt of it—Darrow + himself had seen it from the first; and at the thought she had a wild + revulsion of relief, as though she had been trying to create in her heart + the delusion of a generosity she could not feel... + </p> + <p> + The one fact on which she could stay her mind was that Sophy was leaving + immediately; would be out of the house within an hour. Once she was gone, + it would be easier to bring Owen to the point of understanding that the + break was final; if necessary, to work upon the girl to make him see it. + But that, Anna was sure, would not be necessary. It was clear that Sophy + Viner was leaving Givre with no thought of ever seeing it again... + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as she tried to put some order in her thoughts, she heard Owen’s + call at the door: “Mother!——” a name he seldom gave her. There + was a new note in his voice: the note of a joyous impatience. It made her + turn hastily to the glass to see what face she was about to show him; but + before she had had time to compose it he was in the room and she was + caught in a school-boy hug. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right! It’s all right! And it’s all your doing! I want to do the + worst kind of penance—bell and candle and the rest. I’ve been + through it with <i>her</i>, and now she hands me on to you, and you’re to call me + any names you please.” He freed her with his happy laugh. “I’m to be stood + in the corner till next week, and then I’m to go up to see her. And she + says I owe it all to you!” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” It was the first phrase she found to clutch at as she tried to + steady herself in the eddies of his joy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes: you were so patient, and so dear to her; and you saw at once what a + damned ass I’d been!” She tried a smile, and it seemed to pass muster with + him, for he sent it back in a broad beam. “That’s not so difficult to see? + No, I admit it doesn’t take a microscope. But you were so wise and + wonderful—you always are. I’ve been mad these last days, simply mad—you + and she might well have washed your hands of me! And instead, it’s all + right—all right!” + </p> + <p> + She drew back a little, trying to keep the smile on her lips and not let + him get the least glimpse of what it hid. Now if ever, indeed, it behoved + her to be wise and wonderful! + </p> + <p> + “I’m so glad, dear; so glad. If only you’ll always feel like that about + me...” She stopped, hardly knowing what she said, and aghast at the idea + that her own hands should have retied the knot she imagined to be broken. + But she saw he had something more to say; something hard to get out, but + absolutely necessary to express. He caught her hands, pulled her close, + and, with his forehead drawn into its whimsical smiling wrinkles, “Look + here,” he cried, “if Darrow wants to call me a damned ass too you’re not + to stop him!” + </p> + <p> + It brought her back to a sharper sense of her central peril: of the secret + to be kept from him at whatever cost to her racked nerves. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know, he doesn’t always wait for orders!” On the whole it sounded + better than she’d feared. + </p> + <p> + “You mean he’s called me one already?” He accepted the fact with his + gayest laugh. “Well, that saves a lot of trouble; now we can pass to the + order of the day——” he broke off and glanced at the clock—“which + is, you know, dear, that she’s starting in about an hour; she and Adelaide + must already be snatching a hasty sandwich. You’ll come down to bid them + good-bye?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—of course.” + </p> + <p> + There had, in fact, grown upon her while he spoke the urgency of seeing + Sophy Viner again before she left. The thought was deeply distasteful: + Anna shrank from encountering the girl till she had cleared a way through + her own perplexities. But it was obvious that since they had separated, + barely an hour earlier, the situation had taken a new shape. Sophy Viner + had apparently reconsidered her decision to break amicably but definitely + with Owen, and stood again in their path, a menace and a mystery; and + confused impulses of resistance stirred in Anna’s mind. She felt Owen’s + touch on her arm. “Are you coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes ... yes ... presently.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter? You look so strange.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by strange?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know: startled—surprised.” She read what her look must be + by its sudden reflection in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Do I? No wonder! You’ve given us all an exciting morning.” + </p> + <p> + He held to his point. “You’re more excited now that there’s no cause for + it. What on earth has happened since I saw you?” + </p> + <p> + He looked about the room, as if seeking the clue to her agitation, and in + her dread of what he might guess she answered: “What has happened is + simply that I’m rather tired. Will you ask Sophy to come up and see me + here?” + </p> + <p> + While she waited she tried to think what she should say when the girl + appeared; but she had never been more conscious of her inability to deal + with the oblique and the tortuous. She had lacked the hard teachings of + experience, and an instinctive disdain for whatever was less clear and + open than her own conscience had kept her from learning anything of the + intricacies and contradictions of other hearts. She said to herself: “I + must find out——” yet everything in her recoiled from the means + by which she felt it must be done... + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner appeared almost immediately, dressed for departure, her little + bag on her arm. She was still pale to the point of haggardness, but with a + light upon her that struck Anna with surprise. Or was it, perhaps, that + she was looking at the girl with new eyes: seeing her, for the first time, + not as Effie’s governess, not as Owen’s bride, but as the embodiment of + that unknown peril lurking in the background of every woman’s thoughts + about her lover? Anna, at any rate, with a sudden sense of estrangement, + noted in her graces and snares never before perceived. It was only the + flash of a primitive instinct, but it lasted long enough to make her + ashamed of the darknesses it lit up in her heart... + </p> + <p> + She signed to Sophy to sit down on the sofa beside her. “I asked you to + come up to me because I wanted to say good-bye quietly,” she explained, + feeling her lips tremble, but trying to speak in a tone of friendly + naturalness. + </p> + <p> + The girl’s only answer was a faint smile of acquiescence, and Anna, + disconcerted by her silence, went on: “You’ve decided, then, not to break + your engagement?” + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner raised her head with a look of surprise. Evidently the + question, thus abruptly put, must have sounded strangely on the lips of so + ardent a partisan as Mrs. Leath! “I thought that was what you wished,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + “What I wished?” Anna’s heart shook against her side. “I wish, of course, + whatever seems best for Owen.... It’s natural, you must understand, that + that consideration should come first with me...” + </p> + <p> + Sophy was looking at her steadily. “I supposed it was the only one that + counted with you.” + </p> + <p> + The curtness of retort roused Anna’s latent antagonism. “It is,” she said, + in a hard voice that startled her as she heard it. Had she ever spoken so + to any one before? She felt frightened, as though her very nature had + changed without her knowing it.... Feeling the girl’s astonished gaze still + on her, she continued: “The suddenness of the change has naturally + surprised me. When I left you it was understood that you were to reserve + your decision——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And now——?” Anna waited for a reply that did not come. She + did not understand the girl’s attitude, the edge of irony in her short + syllables, the plainly premeditated determination to lay the burden of + proof on her interlocutor. Anna felt the sudden need to lift their + intercourse above this mean level of defiance and distrust. She looked + appealingly at Sophy. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it best that we should speak quite frankly? It’s this change on + your part that perplexes me. You can hardly be surprised at that. It’s + true, I asked you not to break with Owen too abruptly—and I asked + it, believe me, as much for your sake as for his: I wanted you to take + time to think over the difficulty that seems to have arisen between you. + The fact that you felt it required thinking over seemed to show you + wouldn’t take the final step lightly—wouldn’t, I mean, accept of + Owen more than you could give him. But your change of mind obliges me to + ask the question I thought you would have asked yourself. Is there any + reason why you shouldn’t marry Owen?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped a little breathlessly, her eyes on Sophy Viner’s burning face. + “Any reason——? What do you mean by a reason?” + </p> + <p> + Anna continued to look at her gravely. “Do you love some one else?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + Sophy’s first look was one of wonder and a faint relief; then she gave + back the other’s scrutiny in a glance of indescribable reproach. “Ah, you + might have waited!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Waited?” + </p> + <p> + “Till I’d gone: till I was out of the house. You might have known ... you + might have guessed...” She turned her eyes again on Anna. “I only meant to + let him hope a little longer, so that he shouldn’t suspect anything; of + course I can’t marry him,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Anna stood motionless, silenced by the shock of the avowal. She too was + trembling, less with anger than with a confused compassion. But the + feeling was so blent with others, less generous and more obscure, that she + found no words to express it, and the two women faced each other without + speaking. + </p> + <p> + “I’d better go,” Sophy murmured at length with lowered head. + </p> + <p> + The words roused in Anna a latent impulse of compunction. The girl looked + so young, so exposed and desolate! And what thoughts must she be hiding in + her heart! It was impossible that they should part in such a spirit. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to know that no one said anything.... It was I who...” + </p> + <p> + Sophy looked at her. “You mean that Mr. Darrow didn’t tell you? Of course + not: do you suppose I thought he did? You found it out, that’s all—I + knew you would. In your place I should have guessed it sooner.” + </p> + <p> + The words were spoken simply, without irony or emphasis; but they went + through Anna like a sword. Yes, the girl would have had divinations, + promptings that she had not had! She felt half envious of such a sad + precocity of wisdom. + </p> + <p> + “I’m so sorry ... so sorry...” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Things happen that way. Now I’d better go. I’d like to say good-bye to + Effie.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh——” it broke in a cry from Effie’s mother. “Not like this—you + mustn’t! I feel—you make me feel too horribly: as if I were driving + you away...” The words had rushed up from the depths of her bewildered + pity. + </p> + <p> + “No one is driving me away: I had to go,” she heard the girl reply. + </p> + <p> + There was another silence, during which passionate impulses of magnanimity + warred in Anna with her doubts and dreads. At length, her eyes on Sophy’s + face: “Yes, you must go now,” she began; “but later on ... after a while, + when all this is over ... if there’s no reason why you shouldn’t marry Owen——” + she paused a moment on the words— “I shouldn’t want you to think I + stood between you...” + </p> + <p> + “You?” Sophy flushed again, and then grew pale. She seemed to try to + speak, but no words came. “Yes! It was not true when I said just now that + I was thinking only of Owen. I’m sorry—oh, so sorry!—for you + too. Your life—I know how hard it’s been; and mine ... mine’s so + full.... Happy women understand best!” Anna drew near and touched the girl’s + hand; then she began again, pouring all her soul into the broken phrases: + “It’s terrible now ... you see no future; but if, by and bye ... you know + best ... but you’re so young ... and at your age things <i>do</i> pass. If there’s no + reason, no real reason, why you shouldn’t marry Owen, I <i>want</i> him to hope, + I’ll help him to hope ... if you say so....” + </p> + <p> + With the urgency of her pleading her clasp tightened on Sophy’s hand, but + it warmed to no responsive tremor: the girl seemed numb, and Anna was + frightened by the stony silence of her look. “I suppose I’m not more than + half a woman,” she mused, “for I don’t want my happiness to hurt her;” and + aloud she repeated: “If only you’ll tell me there’s no reason——” + </p> + <p> + The girl did not speak; but suddenly, like a snapped branch, she bent, + stooped down to the hand that clasped her, and laid her lips upon it in a + stream of weeping. She cried silently, continuously, abundantly, as though + Anna’s touch had released the waters of some deep spring of pain; then, as + Anna, moved and half afraid, leaned over her with a sound of pity, she + stood up and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “You’re going, then—for good—like this?” Anna moved toward her + and stopped. Sophy stopped too, with eyes that shrank from her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh——” Anna cried, and hid her face. + </p> + <p> + The girl walked across the room and paused again in the doorway. From + there she flung back: “I wanted it—I chose it. He was good to me—no + one ever was so good!” + </p> + <p> + The door-handle turned, and Anna heard her go. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX + </h2> + <p> + Her first thought was: “He’s going too in a few hours—I needn’t see + him again before he leaves...” At that moment the possibility of having to + look in Darrow’s face and hear him speak seemed to her more unendurable + than anything else she could imagine. Then, on the next wave of feeling, + came the desire to confront him at once and wring from him she knew not + what: avowal, denial, justification, anything that should open some + channel of escape to the flood of her pent-up anguish. + </p> + <p> + She had told Owen she was tired, and this seemed a sufficient reason for + remaining upstairs when the motor came to the door and Miss Painter and + Sophy Viner were borne off in it; sufficient also for sending word to + Madame de Chantelle that she would not come down till after luncheon. + Having despatched her maid with this message, she lay down on her sofa and + stared before her into darkness... + </p> + <p> + She had been unhappy before, and the vision of old miseries flocked like + hungry ghosts about her fresh pain: she recalled her youthful + disappointment, the failure of her marriage, the wasted years that + followed; but those were negative sorrows, denials and postponements of + life. She seemed in no way related to their shadowy victim, she who was + stretched on this fiery rack of the irreparable. She had suffered before—yes, + but lucidly, reflectively, elegiacally: now she was suffering as a hurt + animal must, blindly, furiously, with the single fierce animal longing + that the awful pain should stop... + </p> + <p> + She heard her maid knock, and she hid her face and made no answer. The + knocking continued, and the discipline of habit at length made her lift + her head, compose her face and hold out her hand to the note the woman + brought her. It was a word from Darrow—“May I see you?”—and + she said at once, in a voice that sounded thin and empty: “Ask Mr. Darrow + to come up.” + </p> + <p> + The maid enquired if she wished to have her hair smoothed first, and she + answered that it didn’t matter; but when the door had closed, the instinct + of pride drew her to her feet and she looked at herself in the glass above + the mantelpiece and passed her hands over her hair. Her eyes were burning + and her face looked tired and thinner; otherwise she could see no change + in her appearance, and she wondered that at such a moment her body should + seem as unrelated to the self that writhed within her as if it had been a + statue or a picture. + </p> + <p> + The maid reopened the door to show in Darrow, and he paused a moment on + the threshold, as if waiting for Anna to speak. He was extremely pale, but + he looked neither ashamed nor uncertain, and she said to herself, with a + perverse thrill of appreciation: “He’s as proud as I am.” + </p> + <p> + Aloud she asked: “You wanted to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “Naturally,” he replied in a grave voice. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t! It’s useless. I know everything. Nothing you can say will help.” + </p> + <p> + At the direct affirmation he turned even paler, and his eyes, which he + kept resolutely fixed on her, confessed his misery. + </p> + <p> + “You allow me no voice in deciding that?” + </p> + <p> + “Deciding what?” + </p> + <p> + “That there’s nothing more to be said?” He waited for her to answer, and + then went on: “I don’t even know what you mean by ‘everything’.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know what more there is! I know enough. I implored her to + deny it, and she couldn’t.... What can you and I have to say to each other?” + Her voice broke into a sob. The animal anguish was upon her again—just + a blind cry against her pain! + </p> + <p> + Darrow kept his head high and his eyes steady. “It must be as you wish; + and yet it’s not like you to be afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “To talk things out—to face them.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s for <i>you</i> to face this—not me!” + </p> + <p> + “All I ask is to face it—but with you.” Once more he paused. “Won’t + you tell me what Miss Viner told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she’s generous—to the utmost!” The pain caught her like a + physical throe. It suddenly came to her how the girl must have loved him + to be so generous—what memories there must be between them! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go, please go. It’s too horrible. Why should I have to see you?” she + stammered, lifting her hands to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + With her face hidden she waited to hear him move away, to hear the door + open and close again, as, a few hours earlier, it had opened and closed on + Sophy Viner. But Darrow made no sound or movement: he too was waiting. + Anna felt a thrill of resentment: his presence was an outrage on her + sorrow, a humiliation to her pride. It was strange that he should wait for + her to tell him so! + </p> + <p> + “You want me to leave Givre?” he asked at length. She made no answer, and + he went on: “Of course I’ll do as you wish; but if I go now am I not to + see you again?” + </p> + <p> + His voice was firm: his pride was answering her pride! + </p> + <p> + She faltered: “You must see it’s useless——” + </p> + <p> + “I might remind you that you’re dismissing me without a hearing——” + </p> + <p> + “Without a hearing? I’ve heard you both!” + </p> + <p> + ——“but I won’t,” he continued, “remind you of that, or of + anything or any one but Owen.” + </p> + <p> + “Owen?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; if we could somehow spare him——” + </p> + <p> + She had dropped her hands and turned her startled eyes on him. It seemed + to her an age since she had thought of Owen! + </p> + <p> + “You see, don’t you,” Darrow continued, “that if you send me away now——” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted: “Yes, I see——” and there was a long silence + between them. At length she said, very low: “I don’t want any one else to + suffer as I’m suffering...” + </p> + <p> + “Owen knows I meant to leave tomorrow,” Darrow went on. “Any sudden change + of plan may make him think...” + </p> + <p> + Oh, she saw his inevitable logic: the horror of it was on every side of + her! It had seemed possible to control her grief and face Darrow calmly + while she was upheld by the belief that this was their last hour together, + that after he had passed out of the room there would be no fear of seeing + him again, no fear that his nearness, his look, his voice, and all the + unseen influences that flowed from him, would dissolve her soul to + weakness. But her courage failed at the idea of having to conspire with + him to shield Owen, of keeping up with him, for Owen’s sake, a feint of + union and felicity. To live at Darrow’s side in seeming intimacy and + harmony for another twenty-four hours seemed harder than to live without + him for all the rest of her days. Her strength failed her, and she threw + herself down and buried her sobs in the cushions where she had so often + hidden a face aglow with happiness. + </p> + <p> + “Anna——” His voice was close to her. “Let me talk to you + quietly. It’s not worthy of either of us to be afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Words of endearment would have offended her; but her heart rose at the + call to her courage. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no defense to make,” he went on. “The facts are miserable enough; + but at least I want you to see them as they are. Above all, I want you to + know the truth about Miss Viner——” + </p> + <p> + The name sent the blood to Anna’s forehead. She raised her head and faced + him. “Why should I know more of her than what she’s told me? I never wish + to hear her name again!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s because you feel about her in that way that I ask you—in the + name of common charity—to let me give you the facts as they are, and + not as you’ve probably imagined them.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve told you I don’t think uncharitably of her. I don’t want to think of + her at all!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s why I tell you you’re afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You’ve always said you wanted, above all, to look at life, at the + human problem, as it is, without fear and without hypocrisy; and it’s not + always a pleasant thing to look at.” He broke off, and then began again: + “Don’t think this a plea for myself! I don’t want to say a word to lessen + my offense. I don’t want to talk of myself at all. Even if I did, I + probably couldn’t make you understand—I don’t, myself, as I look + back. Be just to me—it’s your right; all I ask you is to be generous + to Miss Viner...” + </p> + <p> + She stood up trembling. “You’re free to be as generous to her as you + please!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: you’ve made it clear to me that I’m free. But there’s nothing I can + do for her that will help her half as much as your understanding her + would.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing you can do for her? You can marry her!” + </p> + <p> + His face hardened. “You certainly couldn’t wish her a worse fate!” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been what she expected ... relied on...” He was silent, and + she broke out: “Or what is she? What are you? It’s too horrible! On your + way here ... to <i>me</i>...” She felt the tears in her throat and stopped. + </p> + <p> + “That was it,” he said bluntly. She stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “I was on my way to you—after repeated delays and postponements of + your own making. At the very last you turned me back with a mere word—and + without explanation. I waited for a letter; and none came. I’m not saying + this to justify myself. I’m simply trying to make you understand. I felt + hurt and bitter and bewildered. I thought you meant to give me up. And + suddenly, in my way, I found some one to be sorry for, to be of use to. + That, I swear to you, was the way it began. The rest was a moment’s + folly ... a flash of madness ... as such things are. We’ve never seen each + other since...” + </p> + <p> + Anna was looking at him coldly. “You sufficiently describe her in saying + that!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if you measure her by conventional standards—which is what you + always declare you never do.” + </p> + <p> + “Conventional standards? A girl who——” She was checked by a + sudden rush of almost physical repugnance. Suddenly she broke out: “I + always thought her an adventuress!” + </p> + <p> + “Always?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mean always ... but after you came...” + </p> + <p> + “She’s not an adventuress.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that she professes to act on the new theories? The stuff that + awful women rave about on platforms?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t think she pretended to have a theory——” + </p> + <p> + “She hadn’t even that excuse?” + </p> + <p> + “She had the excuse of her loneliness, her unhappiness—of miseries + and humiliations that a woman like you can’t even guess. She had nothing + to look back to but indifference or unkindness—nothing to look + forward to but anxiety. She saw I was sorry for her and it touched her. + She made too much of it—she exaggerated it. I ought to have seen the + danger, but I didn’t. There’s no possible excuse for what I did.” + </p> + <p> + Anna listened to him in speechless misery. Every word he spoke threw back + a disintegrating light on their own past. He had come to her with an open + face and a clear conscience—come to her from this! If his security + was the security of falsehood it was horrible; if it meant that he had + forgotten, it was worse. She would have liked to stop her ears, to close + her eyes, to shut out every sight and sound and suggestion of a world in + which such things could be; and at the same time she was tormented by the + desire to know more, to understand better, to feel herself less ignorant + and inexpert in matters which made so much of the stuff of human + experience. What did he mean by “a moment’s folly, a flash of madness”? + How did people enter on such adventures, how pass out of them without more + visible traces of their havoc? Her imagination recoiled from the vision of + a sudden debasing familiarity: it seemed to her that her thoughts would + never again be pure... + </p> + <p> + “I swear to you,” she heard Darrow saying, “it was simply that, and + nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + She wondered at his composure, his competence, at his knowing so exactly + what to say. No doubt men often had to make such explanations: they had + the formulas by heart.... A leaden lassitude descended on her. She passed + from flame and torment into a colourless cold world where everything + surrounding her seemed equally indifferent and remote. For a moment she + simply ceased to feel. + </p> + <p> + She became aware that Darrow was waiting for her to speak, and she made an + effort to represent to herself the meaning of what he had just said; but + her mind was as blank as a blurred mirror. Finally she brought out: “I + don’t think I understand what you’ve told me.” + </p> + <p> + “No; you don’t understand,” he returned with sudden bitterness; and on his + lips the charge of incomprehension seemed an offense to her. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t want to—about such things!” + </p> + <p> + He answered almost harshly: “Don’t be afraid ... you never will...” and for + an instant they faced each other like enemies. Then the tears swelled in + her throat at his reproach. + </p> + <p> + “You mean I don’t feel things—I’m too hard?” + </p> + <p> + “No: you’re too high ... too fine ... such things are too far from you.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, as if conscious of the futility of going on with whatever he + had meant to say, and again, for a short space, they confronted each + other, no longer as enemies—so it seemed to her—but as beings + of different language who had forgotten the few words they had learned of + each other’s speech. + </p> + <p> + Darrow broke the silence. “It’s best, on all accounts, that I should stay + till tomorrow; but I needn’t intrude on you; we needn’t meet again alone. + I only want to be sure I know your wishes.” He spoke the short sentences + in a level voice, as though he were summing up the results of a business + conference. + </p> + <p> + Anna looked at him vaguely. “My wishes?” + </p> + <p> + “As to Owen——” + </p> + <p> + At that she started. “They must never meet again!” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not likely they will. What I meant was, that it depends on you to + spare him...” + </p> + <p> + She answered steadily: “He shall never know,” and after another interval + Darrow said: “This is good-bye, then.” + </p> + <p> + At the word she seemed to understand for the first time whither the flying + moments had been leading them. Resentment and indignation died down, and + all her consciousness resolved itself into the mere visual sense that he + was there before her, near enough for her to lift her hand and touch him, + and that in another instant the place where he stood would be empty. + </p> + <p> + She felt a mortal weakness, a craven impulse to cry out to him to stay, a + longing to throw herself into his arms, and take refuge there from the + unendurable anguish he had caused her. Then the vision called up another + thought: “I shall never know what that girl has known...” and the recoil + of pride flung her back on the sharp edges of her anguish. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye,” she said, in dread lest he should read her face; and she stood + motionless, her head high, while he walked to the door and went out. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK V + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX + </h2> + <p> + Anna Leath, three days later, sat in Miss Painter’s drawing-room in the + rue de Matignon. + </p> + <p> + Coming up precipitately that morning from the country, she had reached + Paris at one o’clock and Miss Painter’s landing some ten minutes later. + Miss Painter’s mouldy little man-servant, dissembling a napkin under his + arm, had mildly attempted to oppose her entrance; but Anna, insisting, had + gone straight to the dining-room and surprised her friend—who ate as + furtively as certain animals—over a strange meal of cold mutton and + lemonade. Ignoring the embarrassment she caused, she had set forth the + object of her journey, and Miss Painter, always hatted and booted for + action, had immediately hastened out, leaving her to the solitude of the + bare fireless drawing-room with its eternal slip-covers and “bowed” + shutters. + </p> + <p> + In this inhospitable obscurity Anna had sat alone for close upon two + hours. Both obscurity and solitude were acceptable to her, and impatient + as she was to hear the result of the errand on which she had despatched + her hostess, she desired still more to be alone. During her long + meditation in a white-swathed chair before the muffled hearth she had been + able for the first time to clear a way through the darkness and confusion + of her thoughts. The way did not go far, and her attempt to trace it was + as weak and spasmodic as a convalescent’s first efforts to pick up the + thread of living. She seemed to herself like some one struggling to rise + from a long sickness of which it would have been so much easier to die. At + Givre she had fallen into a kind of torpor, a deadness of soul traversed + by wild flashes of pain; but whether she suffered or whether she was numb, + she seemed equally remote from her real living and doing self. + </p> + <p> + It was only the discovery—that very morning—of Owen’s + unannounced departure for Paris that had caught her out of her dream and + forced her back to action. The dread of what this flight might imply, and + of the consequences that might result from it, had roused her to the sense + of her responsibility, and from the moment when she had resolved to follow + her step-son, and had made her rapid preparations for pursuit, her mind + had begun to work again, feverishly, fitfully, but still with something of + its normal order. In the train she had been too agitated, too preoccupied + with what might next await her, to give her thoughts to anything but the + turning over of dread alternatives; but Miss Painter’s imperviousness had + steadied her, and while she waited for the sound of the latch-key she + resolutely returned upon herself. + </p> + <p> + With respect to her outward course she could at least tell herself that + she had held to her purpose. She had, as people said, “kept up” during the + twenty-four hours preceding George Darrow’s departure; had gone with a + calm face about her usual business, and even contrived not too obviously + to avoid him. Then, the next day before dawn, from behind the closed + shutters where she had kept for half the night her dry-eyed vigil, she had + heard him drive off to the train which brought its passengers to Paris in + time for the Calais express. + </p> + <p> + The fact of his taking that train, of his travelling so straight and far + away from her, gave to what had happened the implacable outline of + reality. He was gone; he would not come back; and her life had ended just + as she had dreamed it was beginning. She had no doubt, at first, as to the + absolute inevitability of this conclusion. The man who had driven away + from her house in the autumn dawn was not the man she had loved; he was a + stranger with whom she had not a single thought in common. It was + terrible, indeed, that he wore the face and spoke in the voice of her + friend, and that, as long as he was under one roof with her, the mere way + in which he moved and looked could bridge at a stroke the gulf between + them. That, no doubt, was the fault of her exaggerated sensibility to + outward things: she was frightened to see how it enslaved her. A day or + two before she had supposed the sense of honour was her deepest sentiment: + if she had smiled at the conventions of others it was because they were + too trivial, not because they were too grave. There were certain + dishonours with which she had never dreamed that any pact could be made: + she had had an incorruptible passion for good faith and fairness. + </p> + <p> + She had supposed that, once Darrow was gone, once she was safe from the + danger of seeing and hearing him, this high devotion would sustain her. + She had believed it would be possible to separate the image of the man she + had thought him from that of the man he was. She had even foreseen the + hour when she might raise a mournful shrine to the memory of the Darrow + she had loved, without fear that his double’s shadow would desecrate it. + But now she had begun to understand that the two men were really one. The + Darrow she worshipped was inseparable from the Darrow she abhorred; and + the inevitable conclusion was that both must go, and she be left in the + desert of a sorrow without memories... + </p> + <p> + But if the future was thus void, the present was all too full. Never had + blow more complex repercussions; and to remember Owen was to cease to + think of herself. What impulse, what apprehension, had sent him suddenly + to Paris? And why had he thought it needful to conceal his going from her? + When Sophy Viner had left, it had been with the understanding that he was + to await her summons; and it seemed improbable that he would break his + pledge, and seek her without leave, unless his lover’s intuition had + warned him of some fresh danger. Anna recalled how quickly he had read the + alarm in her face when he had rushed back to her sitting-room with the + news that Miss Viner had promised to see him again in Paris. To be so + promptly roused, his suspicions must have been but half-asleep; and since + then, no doubt, if she and Darrow had dissembled, so had he. To her proud + directness it was degrading to think that they had been living together + like enemies who spy upon each other’s movements: she felt a desperate + longing for the days which had seemed so dull and narrow, but in which she + had walked with her head high and her eyes unguarded. + </p> + <p> + She had come up to Paris hardly knowing what peril she feared, and still + less how she could avert it. If Owen meant to see Miss Viner—and + what other object could he have?—they must already be together, and + it was too late to interfere. It had indeed occurred to Anna that Paris + might not be his objective point: that his real purpose in leaving Givre + without her knowledge had been to follow Darrow to London and exact the + truth of him. But even to her alarmed imagination this seemed improbable. + She and Darrow, to the last, had kept up so complete a feint of harmony + that, whatever Owen had surmised, he could scarcely have risked acting on + his suspicions. If he still felt the need of an explanation, it was almost + certainly of Sophy Viner that he would ask it; and it was in quest of + Sophy Viner that Anna had despatched Miss Painter. + </p> + <p> + She had found a blessed refuge from her perplexities in the stolid + Adelaide’s unawareness. One could so absolutely count on Miss Painter’s + guessing no more than one chose, and yet acting astutely on such hints as + one vouchsafed her! She was like a well-trained retriever whose interest + in his prey ceases when he lays it at his master’s feet. Anna, on + arriving, had explained that Owen’s unannounced flight had made her fear + some fresh misunderstanding between himself and Miss Viner. In the + interests of peace she had thought it best to follow him; but she hastily + added that she did not wish to see Sophy, but only, if possible, to learn + from her where Owen was. With these brief instructions Miss Painter had + started out; but she was a woman of many occupations, and had given her + visitor to understand that before returning she should have to call on a + friend who had just arrived from Boston, and afterward despatch to another + exiled compatriot a supply of cranberries and brandied peaches from the + American grocery in the Champs Elysees. + </p> + <p> + Gradually, as the moments passed, Anna began to feel the reaction which, + in moments of extreme nervous tension, follows on any effort of the will. + She seemed to have gone as far as her courage would carry her, and she + shrank more and more from the thought of Miss Painter’s return, since + whatever information the latter brought would necessitate some fresh + decision. What should she say to Owen if she found him? What could she say + that should not betray the one thing she would give her life to hide from + him? “Give her life”—how the phrase derided her! It was a gift she + would not have bestowed on her worst enemy. She would not have had Sophy + Viner live the hours she was living now... She tried again to look + steadily and calmly at the picture that the image of the girl evoked. She + had an idea that she ought to accustom herself to its contemplation. If + life was like that, why the sooner one got used to it the better.... But no! + Life was not like that. Her adventure was a hideous accident. She dreaded + above all the temptation to generalise from her own case, to doubt the + high things she had lived by and seek a cheap solace in belittling what + fate had refused her. There was such love as she had dreamed, and she + meant to go on believing in it, and cherishing the thought that she was + worthy of it. What had happened to her was grotesque and mean and + miserable; but she herself was none of these things, and never, never + would she make of herself the mock that fate had made of her... + </p> + <p> + She could not, as yet, bear to think deliberately of Darrow; but she kept + on repeating to herself “By and bye that will come too.” Even now she was + determined not to let his image be distorted by her suffering. As soon as + she could, she would try to single out for remembrance the individual + things she had liked in him before she had loved him altogether. No + “spiritual exercise” devised by the discipline of piety could have been + more torturing; but its very cruelty attracted her. She wanted to wear + herself out with new pains... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXI + </h2> + <p> + The sound of Miss Painter’s latch-key made her start. She was still a + bundle of quivering fears to whom each coming moment seemed a menace. + </p> + <p> + There was a slight interval, and a sound of voices in the hall; then Miss + Painter’s vigorous hand was on the door. + </p> + <p> + Anna stood up as she came in. “You’ve found him?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve found Sophy.” + </p> + <p> + “And Owen?—has she seen him? Is he here?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>She’s</i> here: in the hall. She wants to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Here—<i>now</i>?” Anna found no voice for more. + </p> + <p> + “She drove back with me,” Miss Painter continued in the tone of impartial + narrative. “The cabman was impertinent. I’ve got his number.” She fumbled + in a stout black reticule. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can’t—” broke from Anna; but she collected herself, + remembering that to betray her unwillingness to see the girl was to risk + revealing much more. + </p> + <p> + “She thought you might be too tired to see her: she wouldn’t come in till + I’d found out.” + </p> + <p> + Anna drew a quick breath. An instant’s thought had told her that Sophy + Viner would hardly have taken such a step unless something more important + had happened. “Ask her to come, please,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Miss Painter, from the threshold, turned back to announce her intention of + going immediately to the police station to report the cabman’s + delinquency; then she passed out, and Sophy Viner entered. + </p> + <p> + The look in the girl’s face showed that she had indeed come unwillingly; + yet she seemed animated by an eager resoluteness that made Anna ashamed of + her tremors. For a moment they looked at each other in silence, as if the + thoughts between them were packed too thick for speech; then Anna said, in + a voice from which she strove to take the edge of hardness: “You know + where Owen is, Miss Painter tells me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; that was my reason for asking you to see me.” Sophy spoke simply, + without constraint or hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “I thought he’d promised you—” Anna interposed. + </p> + <p> + “He did; but he broke his promise. That’s what I thought I ought to tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” Anna went on tentatively: “He left Givre this morning without + a word. I followed him because I was afraid...” + </p> + <p> + She broke off again and the girl took up her phrase. “You were afraid he’d + guessed? He <i>has</i>...” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean—guessed what?” + </p> + <p> + “That you know something he doesn’t ... something that made you glad to have + me go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—” Anna moaned. If she had wanted more pain she had it now. “He’s + told you this?” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + “He hasn’t told me, because I haven’t seen him. I kept him off—I + made Mrs. Farlow get rid of him. But he’s written me what he came to say; + and that was it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, poor Owen!” broke from Anna. Through all the intricacies of her + suffering she felt the separate pang of his. + </p> + <p> + “And I want to ask you,” the girl continued, “to let me see him; for of + course,” she added in the same strange voice of energy, “I wouldn’t unless + you consented.” + </p> + <p> + “To see him?” Anna tried to gather together her startled thoughts. “What + use would it be? What could you tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to tell him the truth,” said Sophy Viner. + </p> + <p> + The two women looked at each other, and a burning blush rose to Anna’s + forehead. “I don’t understand,” she faltered. + </p> + <p> + Sophy waited a moment; then she lowered her voice to say: “I don’t want + him to think worse of me than he need...” + </p> + <p> + “Worse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—to think such things as you’re thinking now.... I want him to + know exactly what happened ... then I want to bid him good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + Anna tried to clear a way through her own wonder and confusion. She felt + herself obscurely moved. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t it be worse for him?” + </p> + <p> + “To hear the truth? It would be better, at any rate, for you and Mr. + Darrow.” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of the name Anna lifted her head quickly. “I’ve only my + step-son to consider!” + </p> + <p> + The girl threw a startled look at her. “You don’t mean—you’re not + going to give him up?” + </p> + <p> + Anna felt her lips harden. “I don’t think it’s of any use to talk of + that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know! It’s my fault for not knowing how to say what I want you to + hear. Your words are different; you know how to choose them. Mine offend + you ... and the dread of it makes me blunder. That’s why, the other day, I + couldn’t say anything ... couldn’t make things clear to you. But now <i>must</i>, + even if you hate it!” She drew a step nearer, her slender figure swayed + forward in a passion of entreaty. “Do listen to me! What you’ve said is + dreadful. How can you speak of him in that voice? Don’t you see that I + went away so that he shouldn’t have to lose you?” + </p> + <p> + Anna looked at her coldly. “Are you speaking of Mr. Darrow? I don’t know + why you think your going or staying can in any way affect our relations.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that you <i>have</i> given him up—because of me? Oh, how could + you? You can’t really love him!—And yet,” the girl suddenly added, + “you must, or you’d be more sorry for me!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m very sorry for you,” Anna said, feeling as if the iron band about her + heart pressed on it a little less inexorably. + </p> + <p> + “Then why won’t you hear me? Why won’t you try to understand? It’s all so + different from what you imagine!” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve never judged you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not thinking of myself. He loves you!” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you’d come to speak of Owen.” + </p> + <p> + Sophy Viner seemed not to hear her. “He’s never loved any one else. Even + those few days.... I knew it all the while ... he never cared for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t say any more!” Anna said. + </p> + <p> + “I know it must seem strange to you that I should say so much. I shock + you, I offend you: you think me a creature without shame. So I am—but + not in the sense you think! I’m not ashamed of having loved him; no; and + I’m not ashamed of telling you so. It’s that that justifies me—and + him too.... Oh, let me tell you how it happened! He was sorry for me: he saw + I cared. I <i>knew</i> that was all he ever felt. I could see he was thinking of + some one else. I knew it was only for a week.... He never said a word to + mislead me.... I wanted to be happy just once—and I didn’t dream of + the harm I might be doing him!” + </p> + <p> + Anna could not speak. She hardly knew, as yet, what the girl’s words + conveyed to her, save the sense of their tragic fervour; but she was + conscious of being in the presence of an intenser passion than she had + ever felt. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for you.” She paused. “But why do you say this to me?” After + another interval she exclaimed: “You’d no right to let Owen love you.” + </p> + <p> + “No; that was wrong. At least what’s happened since has made it so. If + things had been different I think I could have made Owen happy. You were + all so good to me—I wanted so to stay with you! I suppose you’ll say + that makes it worse: my daring to dream I had the right.... But all that + doesn’t matter now. I won’t see Owen unless you’re willing. I should have + liked to tell him what I’ve tried to tell you; but you must know better; + you feel things in a finer way. Only you’ll have to help him if I can’t. + He cares a great deal ... it’s going to hurt him...” + </p> + <p> + Anna trembled. “Oh, I know! What can I do?” + </p> + <p> + “You can go straight back to Givre—now, at once! So that Owen shall + never know you’ve followed him.” Sophy’s clasped hands reached out + urgently. “And you can send for Mr. Darrow—bring him back. Owen must + be convinced that he’s mistaken, and nothing else will convince him. + Afterward I’ll find a pretext—oh, I promise you! But first he must + see for himself that nothing’s changed for you.” + </p> + <p> + Anna stood motionless, subdued and dominated. The girl’s ardour swept her + like a wind. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, can’t I move you? Some day you’ll know!” Sophy pleaded, her eyes full + of tears. + </p> + <p> + Anna saw them, and felt a fullness in her throat. Again the band about her + heart seemed loosened. She wanted to find a word, but could not: all + within her was too dark and violent. She gave the girl a speechless look. + </p> + <p> + “I do believe you,” she said suddenly; then she turned and walked out of + the room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXII + </h2> + <p> + She drove from Miss Painter’s to her own apartment. The maid-servant who + had it in charge had been apprised of her coming, and had opened one or + two of the rooms, and prepared a fire in her bedroom. Anna shut herself + in, refusing the woman’s ministrations. She felt cold and faint, and after + she had taken off her hat and cloak she knelt down by the fire and + stretched her hands to it. + </p> + <p> + In one respect, at least, it was clear to her that she would do well to + follow Sophy Viner’s counsel. It had been an act of folly to follow Owen, + and her first business was to get back to Givre before him. But the only + train leaving that evening was a slow one, which did not reach Francheuil + till midnight, and she knew that her taking it would excite Madame de + Chantelle’s wonder and lead to interminable talk. She had come up to Paris + on the pretext of finding a new governess for Effie, and the natural thing + was to defer her return till the next morning. She knew Owen well enough + to be sure that he would make another attempt to see Miss Viner, and + failing that, would write again and await her answer: so that there was no + likelihood of his reaching Givre till the following evening. + </p> + <p> + Her sense of relief at not having to start out at once showed her for the + first time how tired she was. The <i>bonne</i> had suggested a cup of tea, but + the dread of having any one about her had made Anna refuse, and she had + eaten nothing since morning but a sandwich bought at a buffet. She was too + tired to get up, but stretching out her arm she drew toward her the + arm-chair which stood beside the hearth and rested her head against its + cushions. Gradually the warmth of the fire stole into her veins and her + heaviness of soul was replaced by a dreamy buoyancy. She seemed to be + seated on the hearth in her sitting-room at Givre, and Darrow was beside + her, in the chair against which she leaned. He put his arms about her + shoulders and drawing her head back looked into her eyes. “Of all the ways + you do your hair, that’s the way I like best,” he said... + </p> + <p> + A log dropped, and she sat up with a start. There was a warmth in her + heart, and she was smiling. Then she looked about her, and saw where she + was, and the glory fell. She hid her face and sobbed. + </p> + <p> + Presently she perceived that it was growing dark, and getting up stiffly + she began to undo the things in her bag and spread them on the + dressing-table. She shrank from lighting the lights, and groped her way + about, trying to find what she needed. She seemed immeasurably far off + from every one, and most of all from herself. It was as if her + consciousness had been transmitted to some stranger whose thoughts and + gestures were indifferent to her... + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she heard a shrill tinkle, and with a beating heart she stood + still in the middle of the room. It was the telephone in her dressing-room—a + call, no doubt, from Adelaide Painter. Or could Owen have learned she was + in town? The thought alarmed her and she opened the door and stumbled + across the unlit room to the instrument. She held it to her ear, and heard + Darrow’s voice pronounce her name. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me see you? I’ve come back—I had to come. Miss Painter + told me you were here.” + </p> + <p> + She began to tremble, and feared that he would guess it from her voice. + She did not know what she answered: she heard him say: “I can’t hear.” She + called “Yes!” and laid the telephone down, and caught it up again—but + he was gone. She wondered if her “Yes” had reached him. + </p> + <p> + She sat in her chair and listened. Why had she said that she would see + him? What did she mean to say to him when he came? Now and then, as she + sat there, the sense of his presence enveloped her as in her dream, and + she shut her eyes and felt his arms about her. Then she woke to reality + and shivered. A long time elapsed, and at length she said to herself: “He + isn’t coming.” + </p> + <p> + The door-bell rang as she said it, and she stood up, cold and trembling. + She thought: “Can he imagine there’s any use in coming?” and moved forward + to bid the servant say she could not see him. + </p> + <p> + The door opened and she saw him standing in the drawing-room. The room was + cold and fireless, and a hard glare fell from the wall-lights on the + shrouded furniture and the white slips covering the curtains. He looked + pale and stern, with a frown of fatigue between his eyes; and she + remembered that in three days he had travelled from Givre to London and + back. It seemed incredible that all that had befallen her should have been + compressed within the space of three days! + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” he said as she came in. + </p> + <p> + She answered: “It’s better, I suppose——” + </p> + <p> + He came toward her and took her in his arms. She struggled a little, + afraid of yielding, but he pressed her to him, not bending to her but + holding her fast, as though he had found her after a long search: she + heard his hurried breathing. It seemed to come from her own breast, so + close he held her; and it was she who, at last, lifted up her face and + drew down his. + </p> + <p> + She freed herself and went and sat on a sofa at the other end of the room. + A mirror between the shrouded window-curtains showed her crumpled + travelling dress and the white face under her disordered hair. + </p> + <p> + She found her voice, and asked him how he had been able to leave London. + He answered that he had managed—he’d arranged it; and she saw he + hardly heard what she was saying. + </p> + <p> + “I had to see you,” he went on, and moved nearer, sitting down at her + side. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; we must think of Owen——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Owen—!” + </p> + <p> + Her mind had flown back to Sophy Viner’s plea that she should let Darrow + return to Givre in order that Owen might be persuaded of the folly of his + suspicions. The suggestion was absurd, of course. She could not ask Darrow + to lend himself to such a fraud, even had she had the inhuman courage to + play her part in it. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the futility of every + attempt to reconstruct her ruined world. No, it was useless; and since it + was useless, every moment with Darrow was pure pain... + </p> + <p> + “I’ve come to talk of myself, not of Owen,” she heard him saying. “When + you sent me away the other day I understood that it couldn’t be otherwise—then. + But it’s not possible that you and I should part like that. If I’m to lose + you, it must be for a better reason.” + </p> + <p> + “A better reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: a deeper one. One that means a fundamental disaccord between us. + This one doesn’t—in spite of everything it doesn’t. That’s what I + want you to see, and have the courage to acknowledge.” + </p> + <p> + “If I saw it I should have the courage!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: courage was the wrong word. You have that. That’s why I’m here.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t see it,” she continued sadly. “So it’s useless, isn’t it?—and + so cruel...” He was about to speak, but she went on: “I shall never + understand it—never!” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her. “You will some day: you were made to feel everything” + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought this was a case of not feeling——” + </p> + <p> + “On my part, you mean?” He faced her resolutely. “Yes, it was: to my + shame.... What I meant was that when you’ve lived a little longer you’ll see + what complex blunderers we all are: how we’re struck blind sometimes, and + mad sometimes—and then, when our sight and our senses come back, how + we have to set to work, and build up, little by little, bit by bit, the + precious things we’d smashed to atoms without knowing it. Life’s just a + perpetual piecing together of broken bits.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up quickly. “That’s what I feel: that you ought to——” + </p> + <p> + He stood up, interrupting her with a gesture. “Oh, don’t—don’t say + what you’re going to! Men don’t give their lives away like that. If you + won’t have mine, it’s at least my own, to do the best I can with.” + </p> + <p> + “The best you can—that’s what I mean! How can there be a ‘best’ for + you that’s made of some one else’s worst?” + </p> + <p> + He sat down again with a groan. “I don’t know! It seemed such a slight + thing—all on the surface—and I’ve gone aground on it because + it was on the surface. I see the horror of it just as you do. But I see, a + little more clearly, the extent, and the limits, of my wrong. It’s not as + black as you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + She lowered her voice to say: “I suppose I shall never understand; but she + seems to love you...” + </p> + <p> + “There’s my shame! That I didn’t guess it, didn’t fly from it. You say + you’ll never understand: but why shouldn’t you? Is it anything to be proud + of, to know so little of the strings that pull us? If you knew a little + more, I could tell you how such things happen without offending you; and + perhaps you’d listen without condemning me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t condemn you.” She was dizzy with struggling impulses. She longed + to cry out: “I <i>do</i> understand! I’ve understood ever since you’ve been + here!” For she was aware, in her own bosom, of sensations so separate from + her romantic thoughts of him that she saw her body and soul divided + against themselves. She recalled having read somewhere that in ancient + Rome the slaves were not allowed to wear a distinctive dress lest they + should recognize each other and learn their numbers and their power. So, + in herself, she discerned for the first time instincts and desires, which, + mute and unmarked, had gone to and fro in the dim passages of her mind, + and now hailed each other with a cry of mutiny. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know what to think!” she broke out. “You say you didn’t know + she loved you. But you know it now. Doesn’t that show you how you can put + the broken bits together?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you seriously think it would be doing so to marry one woman while I + care for another?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know.... I don’t know...” The sense of her weakness made her + try to harden herself against his arguments. + </p> + <p> + “You do know! We’ve often talked of such things: of the monstrousness of + useless sacrifices. If I’m to expiate, it’s not in that way.” He added + abruptly: “It’s in having to say this to you now...” + </p> + <p> + She found no answer. + </p> + <p> + Through the silent apartment they heard the sudden peal of the door-bell, + and she rose to her feet. “Owen!” she instantly exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Is Owen in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + She explained in a rapid undertone what she had learned from Sophy Viner. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I leave you?” Darrow asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes ... no...” She moved to the dining-room door, with the half-formed + purpose of making him pass out, and then turned back. “It may be + Adelaide.” + </p> + <p> + They heard the outer door open, and a moment later Owen walked into the + room. He was pale, with excited eyes: as they fell on Darrow, Anna saw his + start of wonder. He made a slight sign of recognition, and then went up to + his step-mother with an air of exaggerated gaiety. + </p> + <p> + “You furtive person! I ran across the omniscient Adelaide and heard from + her that you’d rushed up suddenly and secretly.” He stood between Anna and + Darrow, strained, questioning, dangerously on edge. + </p> + <p> + “I came up to meet Mr. Darrow,” Anna answered. “His leave’s been prolonged—he’s + going back with me.” + </p> + <p> + The words seemed to have uttered themselves without her will, yet she felt + a great sense of freedom as she spoke them. + </p> + <p> + The hard tension of Owen’s face changed to incredulous surprise. He looked + at Darrow. “The merest luck ... a colleague whose wife was ill.... I came + straight back,” she heard the latter tranquilly explaining. His + self-command helped to steady her, and she smiled at Owen. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll all go back together tomorrow morning,” she said as she slipped her + arm through his. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIII + </h2> + <p> + Owen Leath did not go back with his step-mother to Givre. In reply to her + suggestion he announced his intention of staying on a day or two longer in + Paris. + </p> + <p> + Anna left alone by the first train the next morning. Darrow was to follow + in the afternoon. When Owen had left them the evening before, Darrow + waited a moment for her to speak; then, as she said nothing, he asked her + if she really wished him to return to Givre. She made a mute sign of + assent, and he added: “For you know that, much as I’m ready to do for + Owen, I can’t do that for him—I can’t go back to be sent away + again.” + </p> + <p> + “No—no!” + </p> + <p> + He came nearer, and looked at her, and she went to him. All her fears + seemed to fall from her as he held her. It was a different feeling from + any she had known before: confused and turbid, as if secret shames and + rancours stirred in it, yet richer, deeper, more enslaving. She leaned her + head back and shut her eyes beneath his kisses. She knew now that she + could never give him up. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless she asked him, the next morning, to let her go back alone to + Givre. She wanted time to think. She was convinced that what had happened + was inevitable, that she and Darrow belonged to each other, and that he + was right in saying no past folly could ever put them asunder. If there + was a shade of difference in her feeling for him it was that of an added + intensity. She felt restless, insecure out of his sight: she had a sense + of incompleteness, of passionate dependence, that was somehow at variance + with her own conception of her character. + </p> + <p> + It was partly the consciousness of this change in herself that made her + want to be alone. The solitude of her inner life had given her the habit + of these hours of self-examination, and she needed them as she needed her + morning plunge into cold water. + </p> + <p> + During the journey she tried to review what had happened in the light of + her new decision and of her sudden relief from pain. She seemed to herself + to have passed through some fiery initiation from which she had emerged + seared and quivering, but clutching to her breast a magic talisman. Sophy + Viner had cried out to her: “Some day you’ll know!” and Darrow had used + the same words. They meant, she supposed, that when she had explored the + intricacies and darknesses of her own heart her judgment of others would + be less absolute. Well, she knew now—knew weaknesses and strengths + she had not dreamed of, and the deep discord and still deeper complicities + between what thought in her and what blindly wanted... + </p> + <p> + Her mind turned anxiously to Owen. At least the blow that was to fall on + him would not seem to have been inflicted by her hand. He would be left + with the impression that his breach with Sophy Viner was due to one of the + ordinary causes of such disruptions: though he must lose her, his memory + of her would not be poisoned. Anna never for a moment permitted herself + the delusion that she had renewed her promise to Darrow in order to spare + her step-son this last refinement of misery. She knew she had been + prompted by the irresistible impulse to hold fast to what was most + precious to her, and that Owen’s arrival on the scene had been the pretext + for her decision, and not its cause; yet she felt herself fortified by the + thought of what she had spared him. It was as though a star she had been + used to follow had shed its familiar ray on ways unknown to her. + </p> + <p> + All through these meditations ran the undercurrent of an absolute trust in + Sophy Viner. She thought of the girl with a mingling of antipathy and + confidence. It was humiliating to her pride to recognize kindred impulses + in a character which she would have liked to feel completely alien to her. + But what indeed was the girl really like? She seemed to have no scruples + and a thousand delicacies. She had given herself to Darrow, and concealed + the episode from Owen Leath, with no more apparent sense of debasement + than the vulgarest of adventuresses; yet she had instantly obeyed the + voice of her heart when it bade her part from the one and serve the other. + </p> + <p> + Anna tried to picture what the girl’s life must have been: what + experiences, what initiations, had formed her. But her own training had + been too different: there were veils she could not lift. She looked back + at her married life, and its colourless uniformity took on an air of high + restraint and order. Was it because she had been so incurious that it had + worn that look to her? It struck her with amazement that she had never + given a thought to her husband’s past, or wondered what he did and where + he went when he was away from her. If she had been asked what she supposed + he thought about when they were apart, she would instantly have answered: + his snuff-boxes. It had never occurred to her that he might have passions, + interests, preoccupations of which she was absolutely ignorant. Yet he + went up to Paris rather regularly: ostensibly to attend sales and + exhibitions, or to confer with dealers and collectors. She tried to + picture him, straight, trim, beautifully brushed and varnished, walking + furtively down a quiet street, and looking about him before he slipped + into a doorway. She understood now that she had been cold to him: what + more likely than that he had sought compensations? All men were like that, + she supposed—no doubt her simplicity had amused him. + </p> + <p> + In the act of transposing Fraser Leath into a Don Juan she was pulled up + by the ironic perception that she was simply trying to justify Darrow. She + wanted to think that all men were “like that” because Darrow was “like + that”: she wanted to justify her acceptance of the fact by persuading + herself that only through such concessions could women like herself hope + to keep what they could not give up. And suddenly she was filled with + anger at her blindness, and then at her disastrous attempt to see. Why had + she forced the truth out of Darrow? If only she had held her tongue + nothing need ever have been known. Sophy Viner would have broken her + engagement, Owen would have been sent around the world, and her own dream + would have been unshattered. But she had probed, insisted, cross-examined, + not rested till she had dragged the secret to the light. She was one of + the luckless women who always have the wrong audacities, and who always + know it... + </p> + <p> + Was it she, Anna Leath, who was picturing herself to herself in that way? + She recoiled from her thoughts as if with a sense of demoniac possession, + and there flashed through her the longing to return to her old state of + fearless ignorance. If at that moment she could have kept Darrow from + following her to Givre she would have done so... + </p> + <p> + But he came; and with the sight of him the turmoil fell and she felt + herself reassured, rehabilitated. He arrived toward dusk, and she motored + to Francheuil to meet him. She wanted to see him as soon as possible, for + she had divined, through the new insight that was in her, that only his + presence could restore her to a normal view of things. In the motor, as + they left the town and turned into the high-road, he lifted her hand and + kissed it, and she leaned against him, and felt the currents flow between + them. She was grateful to him for not saying anything, and for not + expecting her to speak. She said to herself: “He never makes a mistake—he + always knows what to do”; and then she thought with a start that it was + doubtless because he had so often been in such situations. The idea that + his tact was a kind of professional expertness filled her with repugnance, + and insensibly she drew away from him. He made no motion to bring her + nearer, and she instantly thought that that was calculated too. She sat + beside him in frozen misery, wondering whether, henceforth, she would + measure in this way his every look and gesture. Neither of them spoke + again till the motor turned under the dark arch of the avenue, and they + saw the lights of Givre twinkling at its end. Then Darrow laid his hand on + hers and said: “I know, dear—” and the hardness in her melted. “He’s + suffering as I am,” she thought; and for a moment the baleful fact between + them seemed to draw them closer instead of walling them up in their + separate wretchedness. + </p> + <p> + It was wonderful to be once more re-entering the doors of Givre with him, + and as the old house received them into its mellow silence she had again + the sense of passing out of a dreadful dream into the reassurance of + kindly and familiar things. It did not seem possible that these quiet + rooms, so full of the slowly-distilled accumulations of a fastidious + taste, should have been the scene of tragic dissensions. The memory of + them seemed to be shut out into the night with the closing and barring of + its doors. + </p> + <p> + At the tea-table in the oak-room they found Madame de Chantelle and Effie. + The little girl, catching sight of Darrow, raced down the drawing-rooms to + meet him, and returned in triumph on his shoulder. Anna looked at them + with a smile. Effie, for all her graces, was chary of such favours, and + her mother knew that in according them to Darrow she had admitted him to + the circle where Owen had hitherto ruled. + </p> + <p> + Over the tea-table Darrow gave Madame de Chantelle the explanation of his + sudden return from England. On reaching London, he told her, he had found + that the secretary he was to have replaced was detained there by the + illness of his wife. The Ambassador, knowing Darrow’s urgent reasons for + wishing to be in France, had immediately proposed his going back, and + awaiting at Givre the summons to relieve his colleague; and he had jumped + into the first train, without even waiting to telegraph the news of his + release. He spoke naturally, easily, in his usual quiet voice, taking his + tea from Effie, helping himself to the toast she handed, and stooping now + and then to stroke the dozing terrier. And suddenly, as Anna listened to + his explanation, she asked herself if it were true. + </p> + <p> + The question, of course, was absurd. There was no possible reason why he + should invent a false account of his return, and every probability that + the version he gave was the real one. But he had looked and spoken in the + same way when he had answered her probing questions about Sophy Viner, and + she reflected with a chill of fear that she would never again know if he + were speaking the truth or not. She was sure he loved her, and she did not + fear his insincerity as much as her own distrust of him. For a moment it + seemed to her that this must corrupt the very source of love; then she + said to herself: “By and bye, when I am altogether his, we shall be so + near each other that there will be no room for any doubts between us.” But + the doubts were there now, one moment lulled to quiescence, the next more + torturingly alert. When the nurse appeared to summon Effie, the little + girl, after kissing her grandmother, entrenched herself on Darrow’s knee + with the imperious demand to be carried up to bed; and Anna, while she + laughingly protested, said to herself with a pang: “Can I give her a + father about whom I think such things?” + </p> + <p> + The thought of Effie, and of what she owed to Effie, had been the + fundamental reason for her delays and hesitations when she and Darrow had + come together again in England. Her own feeling was so clear that but for + that scruple she would have put her hand in his at once. But till she had + seen him again she had never considered the possibility of re-marriage, + and when it suddenly confronted her it seemed, for the moment, to + disorganize the life she had planned for herself and her child. She had + not spoken of this to Darrow because it appeared to her a subject to be + debated within her own conscience. The question, then, was not as to his + fitness to become the guide and guardian of her child; nor did she fear + that her love for him would deprive Effie of the least fraction of her + tenderness, since she did not think of love as something measured and + exhaustible but as a treasure perpetually renewed. What she questioned was + her right to introduce into her life any interests and duties which might + rob Effie of a part of her time, or lessen the closeness of their daily + intercourse. + </p> + <p> + She had decided this question as it was inevitable that she should; but + now another was before her. Assuredly, at her age, there was no possible + reason why she should cloister herself to bring up her daughter; but there + was every reason for not marrying a man in whom her own faith was not + complete... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIV + </h2> + <p> + When she woke the next morning she felt a great lightness of heart. She + recalled her last awakening at Givre, three days before, when it had + seemed as though all her life had gone down in darkness. Now Darrow was + once more under the same roof with her, and once more his nearness + sufficed to make the looming horror drop away. She could almost have + smiled at her scruples of the night before: as she looked back on them + they seemed to belong to the old ignorant timorous time when she had + feared to look life in the face, and had been blind to the mysteries and + contradictions of the human heart because her own had not been revealed to + her. Darrow had said: “You were made to feel everything”; and to feel was + surely better than to judge. + </p> + <p> + When she came downstairs he was already in the oak-room with Effie and + Madame de Chantelle, and the sense of reassurance which his presence gave + her was merged in the relief of not being able to speak of what was + between them. But there it was, inevitably, and whenever they looked at + each other they saw it. In her dread of giving it a more tangible shape + she tried to devise means of keeping the little girl with her, and, when + the latter had been called away by the nurse, found an excuse for + following Madame de Chantelle upstairs to the purple sitting-room. But a + confidential talk with Madame de Chantelle implied the detailed discussion + of plans of which Anna could hardly yet bear to consider the vaguest + outline: the date of her marriage, the relative advantages of sailing from + London or Lisbon, the possibility of hiring a habitable house at their new + post; and, when these problems were exhausted, the application of the same + method to the subject of Owen’s future. + </p> + <p> + His grandmother, having no suspicion of the real reason of Sophy Viner’s + departure, had thought it “extremely suitable” of the young girl to + withdraw to the shelter of her old friends’ roof in the hour of bridal + preparation. This maidenly retreat had in fact impressed Madame de + Chantelle so favourably that she was disposed for the first time to talk + over Owen’s projects; and as every human event translated itself for her + into terms of social and domestic detail, Anna had perforce to travel the + same round again. She felt a momentary relief when Darrow presently joined + them; but his coming served only to draw the conversation back to the + question of their own future, and Anna felt a new pang as she heard him + calmly and lucidly discussing it. Did such self-possession imply + indifference or insincerity? In that problem her mind perpetually + revolved; and she dreaded the one answer as much as the other. + </p> + <p> + She was resolved to keep on her course as though nothing had happened: to + marry Darrow and never let the consciousness of the past intrude itself + between them; but she was beginning to feel that the only way of attaining + to this state of detachment from the irreparable was once for all to turn + back with him to its contemplation. As soon as this desire had germinated + it became so strong in her that she regretted having promised Effie to + take her out for the afternoon. But she could think of no pretext for + disappointing the little girl, and soon after luncheon the three set forth + in the motor to show Darrow a chateau famous in the annals of the region. + During their excursion Anna found it impossible to guess from his + demeanour if Effie’s presence between them was as much of a strain to his + composure as to hers. He remained imperturbably good-humoured and + appreciative while they went the round of the monument, and she remarked + only that when he thought himself unnoticed his face grew grave and his + answers came less promptly. + </p> + <p> + On the way back, two or three miles from Givre, she suddenly proposed that + they should walk home through the forest which skirted that side of the + park. Darrow acquiesced, and they got out and sent Effie on in the motor. + Their way led through a bit of sober French woodland, flat as a faded + tapestry, but with gleams of live emerald lingering here and there among + its browns and ochres. The luminous grey air gave vividness to its dying + colours, and veiled the distant glimpses of the landscape in soft + uncertainty. In such a solitude Anna had fancied it would be easier to + speak; but as she walked beside Darrow over the deep soundless flooring of + brown moss the words on her lips took flight again. It seemed impossible + to break the spell of quiet joy which his presence laid on her, and when + he began to talk of the place they had just visited she answered his + questions and then waited for what he should say next.... No, decidedly she + could not speak; she no longer even knew what she had meant to say... + </p> + <p> + The same experience repeated itself several times that day and the next. + When she and Darrow were apart she exhausted herself in appeal and + interrogation, she formulated with a fervent lucidity every point in her + imaginary argument. But as soon as she was alone with him something deeper + than reason and subtler than shyness laid its benumbing touch upon her, + and the desire to speak became merely a dim disquietude, through which his + looks, his words, his touch, reached her as through a mist of bodily pain. + Yet this inertia was torn by wild flashes of resistance, and when they + were apart she began to prepare again what she meant to say to him. + </p> + <p> + She knew he could not be with her without being aware of this inner + turmoil, and she hoped he would break the spell by some releasing word. + But she presently understood that he recognized the futility of words, and + was resolutely bent on holding her to her own purpose of behaving as if + nothing had happened. Once more she inwardly accused him of insensibility, + and her imagination was beset by tormenting visions of his past.... Had such + things happened to him before? If the episode had been an isolated + accident—“a moment of folly and madness”, as he had called it—she + could understand, or at least begin to understand (for at a certain point + her imagination always turned back); but if it were a mere link in a chain + of similar experiments, the thought of it dishonoured her whole past... + </p> + <p> + Effie, in the interregnum between governesses, had been given leave to + dine downstairs; and Anna, on the evening of Darrow’s return, kept the + little girl with her till long after the nurse had signalled from the + drawing-room door. When at length she had been carried off, Anna proposed + a game of cards, and after this diversion had drawn to its languid close + she said good-night to Darrow and followed Madame de Chantelle upstairs. + But Madame de Chantelle never sat up late, and the second evening, with + the amiably implied intention of leaving Anna and Darrow to themselves, + she took an earlier leave of them than usual. + </p> + <p> + Anna sat silent, listening to her small stiff steps as they minced down + the hall and died out in the distance. Madame de Chantelle had broken her + wooden embroidery frame, and Darrow, having offered to repair it, had + drawn his chair up to a table that held a lamp. Anna watched him as he sat + with bent head and knitted brows, trying to fit together the disjoined + pieces. The sight of him, so tranquilly absorbed in this trifling + business, seemed to give to the quiet room a perfume of intimacy, to fill + it with a sense of sweet familiar habit; and it came over her again that + she knew nothing of the inner thoughts of this man who was sitting by her + as a husband might. The lamplight fell on his white forehead, on the + healthy brown of his cheek, the backs of his thin sunburnt hands. As she + watched the hands her sense of them became as vivid as a touch, and she + said to herself: “That other woman has sat and watched him as I am doing. + She has known him as I have never known him.... Perhaps he is thinking of + that now. Or perhaps he has forgotten it all as completely as I have + forgotten everything that happened to me before he came...” + </p> + <p> + He looked young, active, stored with strength and energy; not the man for + vain repinings or long memories. She wondered what she had to hold or + satisfy him. He loved her now; she had no doubt of that; but how could she + hope to keep him? They were so nearly of an age that already she felt + herself his senior. As yet the difference was not visible; outwardly at + least they were matched; but ill-health or unhappiness would soon do away + with this equality. She thought with a pang of bitterness: “He won’t grow + any older because he doesn’t feel things; and because he doesn’t, I + <i>shall</i>...” + </p> + <p> + And when she ceased to please him, what then? Had he the tradition of + faith to the spoken vow, or the deeper piety of the unspoken dedication? + What was his theory, what his inner conviction in such matters? But what + did she care for his convictions or his theories? No doubt he loved her + now, and believed he would always go on loving her, and was persuaded + that, if he ceased to, his loyalty would be proof against the change. What + she wanted to know was not what he thought about it in advance, but what + would impel or restrain him at the crucial hour. She put no faith in her + own arts: she was too sure of having none! And if some beneficent + enchanter had bestowed them on her, she knew now that she would have + rejected the gift. She could hardly conceive of wanting the kind of love + that was a state one could be cozened into... + </p> + <p> + Darrow, putting away the frame, walked across the room and sat down beside + her; and she felt he had something special to say. + </p> + <p> + “They’re sure to send for me in a day or two now,” he began. + </p> + <p> + She made no answer, and he continued: “You’ll tell me before I go what day + I’m to come back and get you?” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time since his return to Givre that he had made any + direct allusion to the date of their marriage; and instead of answering + him she broke out: “There’s something I’ve been wanting you to know. The + other day in Paris I saw Miss Viner.” + </p> + <p> + She saw him flush with the intensity of his surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You sent for her?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she heard from Adelaide that I was in Paris and she came. She came + because she wanted to urge me to marry you. I thought you ought to know + what she had done.” + </p> + <p> + Darrow stood up. “I’m glad you’ve told me.” He spoke with a visible effort + at composure. Her eyes followed him as he moved away. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” he asked after an interval. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s what she’d already asked me.” His voice showed her how deeply he was + moved, and a throb of jealousy shot through her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was for your sake, I know!” He made no answer, and she added: + “She’s been exceedingly generous.... Why shouldn’t we speak of it?” + </p> + <p> + She had lowered her head, but through her dropped lids she seemed to be + watching the crowded scene of his face. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve not shrunk from speaking of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Speaking of her, then, I mean. It seems to me that if I could talk to you + about her I should know better——” + </p> + <p> + She broke off, confused, and he questioned: “What is it you want to know + better?” + </p> + <p> + The colour rose to her forehead. How could she tell him what she scarcely + dared own to herself? There was nothing she did not want to know, no fold + or cranny of his secret that her awakened imagination did not strain to + penetrate; but she could not expose Sophy Viner to the base fingerings of + a retrospective jealousy, nor Darrow to the temptation of belittling her + in the effort to better his own case. The girl had been magnificent, and + the only worthy return that Anna could make was to take Darrow from her + without a question if she took him at all... + </p> + <p> + She lifted her eyes to his face. “I think I only wanted to speak her name. + It’s not right that we should seem so afraid of it. If I were really + afraid of it I should have to give you up,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He bent over her and caught her to him. “Ah, you can’t give me up now!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She suffered him to hold her fast without speaking; but the old dread was + between them again, and it was on her lips to cry out: “How can I help it, + when I <i>am</i> so afraid?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXV + </h2> + <p> + The next morning the dread was still there, and she understood that she + must snatch herself out of the torpor of the will into which she had been + gradually sinking, and tell Darrow that she could not be his wife. + </p> + <p> + The knowledge came to her in the watches of a sleepless night, when, + through the tears of disenchanted passion, she stared back upon her past. + There it lay before her, her sole romance, in all its paltry poverty, the + cheapest of cheap adventures, the most pitiful of sentimental blunders. + She looked about her room, the room where, for so many years, if her heart + had been quiescent her thoughts had been alive, and pictured herself + henceforth cowering before a throng of mean suspicions, of unavowed + compromises and concessions. In that moment of self-searching she saw that + Sophy Viner had chosen the better part, and that certain renunciations + might enrich where possession would have left a desert. + </p> + <p> + Passionate reactions of instinct fought against these efforts of her will. + Why should past or future coerce her, when the present was so securely + hers? Why insanely surrender what the other would after all never have? + Her sense of irony whispered that if she sent away Darrow it would not be + to Sophy Viner, but to the first woman who crossed his path—as, in a + similar hour, Sophy Viner herself had crossed it.... But the mere fact that + she could think such things of him sent her shuddering back to the + opposite pole. She pictured herself gradually subdued to such a conception + of life and love, she pictured Effie growing up under the influence of the + woman she saw herself becoming—and she hid her eyes from the + humiliation of the picture... + </p> + <p> + They were at luncheon when the summons that Darrow expected was brought to + him. He handed the telegram to Anna, and she learned that his Ambassador, + on the way to a German cure, was to be in Paris the next evening and + wished to confer with him there before he went back to London. The idea + that the decisive moment was at hand was so agitating to her that when + luncheon was over she slipped away to the terrace and thence went down + alone to the garden. The day was grey but mild, with the heaviness of + decay in the air. She rambled on aimlessly, following under the denuded + boughs the path she and Darrow had taken on their first walk to the river. + She was sure he would not try to overtake her: sure he would guess why she + wished to be alone. There were moments when it seemed to double her + loneliness to be so certain of his reading her heart while she was so + desperately ignorant of his... + </p> + <p> + She wandered on for more than an hour, and when she returned to the house + she saw, as she entered the hall, that Darrow was seated at the desk in + Owen’s study. He heard her step, and looking up turned in his chair + without rising. Their eyes met, and she saw that his were clear and + smiling. He had a heap of papers at his elbow and was evidently engaged in + some official correspondence. She wondered that he could address himself + so composedly to his task, and then ironically reflected that such + detachment was a sign of his superiority. She crossed the threshold and + went toward him; but as she advanced she had a sudden vision of Owen, + standing outside in the cold autumn dusk and watching Darrow and Sophy + Viner as they faced each other across the lamplit desk.... The evocation was + so vivid that it caught her breath like a blow, and she sank down + helplessly on the divan among the piled-up books. Distinctly, at the + moment, she understood that the end had come. “When he speaks to me I will + tell him!” she thought... + </p> + <p> + Darrow, laying aside his pen, looked at her for a moment in silence; then + he stood up and shut the door. + </p> + <p> + “I must go to-morrow early,” he said, sitting down beside her. His voice + was grave, with a slight tinge of sadness. She said to herself: “He knows + what I am feeling...” and now the thought made her feel less alone. The + expression of his face was stern and yet tender: for the first time she + understood what he had suffered. + </p> + <p> + She had no doubt as to the necessity of giving him up, but it was + impossible to tell him so then. She stood up and said: “I’ll leave you to + your letters.” He made no protest, but merely answered: “You’ll come down + presently for a walk?” and it occurred to her at once that she would walk + down to the river with him, and give herself for the last time the tragic + luxury of sitting at his side in the little pavilion. “Perhaps,” she + thought, “it will be easier to tell him there.” + </p> + <p> + It did not, on the way home from their walk, become any easier to tell + him; but her secret decision to do so before he left gave her a kind of + factitious calm and laid a melancholy ecstasy upon the hour. Still + skirting the subject that fanned their very faces with its flame, they + clung persistently to other topics, and it seemed to Anna that their minds + had never been nearer together than in this hour when their hearts were so + separate. In the glow of interchanged love she had grown less conscious of + that other glow of interchanged thought which had once illumined her mind. + She had forgotten how Darrow had widened her world and lengthened out all + her perspectives, and with a pang of double destitution she saw herself + alone among her shrunken thoughts. + </p> + <p> + For the first time, then, she had a clear vision of what her life would be + without him. She imagined herself trying to take up the daily round, and + all that had lightened and animated it seemed equally lifeless and vain. + She tried to think of herself as wholly absorbed in her daughter’s + development, like other mothers she had seen; but she supposed those + mothers must have had stored memories of happiness to nourish them. She + had had nothing, and all her starved youth still claimed its due. + </p> + <p> + When she went up to dress for dinner she said to herself: “I’ll have my + last evening with him, and then, before we say good night, I’ll tell him.” + </p> + <p> + This postponement did not seem unjustified. Darrow had shown her how he + dreaded vain words, how resolved he was to avoid all fruitless discussion. + He must have been intensely aware of what had been going on in her mind + since his return, yet when she had attempted to reveal it to him he had + turned from the revelation. She was therefore merely following the line he + had traced in behaving, till the final moment came, as though there were + nothing more to say... + </p> + <p> + That moment seemed at last to be at hand when, at her usual hour after + dinner, Madame de Chantelle rose to go upstairs. She lingered a little to + bid good-bye to Darrow, whom she was not likely to see in the morning; and + her affable allusions to his prompt return sounded in Anna’s ear like the + note of destiny. + </p> + <p> + A cold rain had fallen all day, and for greater warmth and intimacy they + had gone after dinner to the oak-room, shutting out the chilly vista of + the farther drawing-rooms. The autumn wind, coming up from the river, + cried about the house with a voice of loss and separation; and Anna and + Darrow sat silent, as if they feared to break the hush that shut them in. + The solitude, the fire-light, the harmony of soft hangings and old dim + pictures, wove about them a spell of security through which Anna felt, far + down in her heart, the muffled beat of an inextinguishable bliss. How + could she have thought that this last moment would be the moment to speak + to him, when it seemed to have gathered up into its flight all the + scattered splendours of her dream? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVI + </h2> + <p> + Darrow continued to stand by the door after it had closed. Anna felt that + he was looking at her, and sat still, disdaining to seek refuge in any + evasive word or movement. For the last time she wanted to let him take + from her the fulness of what the sight of her could give. + </p> + <p> + He crossed over and sat down on the sofa. For a moment neither of them + spoke; then he said: “To-night, dearest, I must have my answer.” + </p> + <p> + She straightened herself under the shock of his seeming to take the very + words from her lips. + </p> + <p> + “To-night?” was all that she could falter. + </p> + <p> + “I must be off by the early train. There won’t be more than a moment in + the morning.” + </p> + <p> + He had taken her hand, and she said to herself that she must free it + before she could go on with what she had to say. Then she rejected this + concession to a weakness she was resolved to defy. To the end she would + leave her hand in his hand, her eyes in his eyes: she would not, in their + final hour together, be afraid of any part of her love for him. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll tell me to-night, dear,” he insisted gently; and his insistence + gave her the strength to speak. + </p> + <p> + “There’s something I must ask you,” she broke out, perceiving, as she + heard her words, that they were not in the least what she had meant to + say. + </p> + <p> + He sat still, waiting, and she pressed on: “Do such things happen to men + often?” + </p> + <p> + The quiet room seemed to resound with the long reverberations of her + question. She looked away from him, and he released her and stood up. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what happens to other men. Such a thing never happened to + me...” + </p> + <p> + She turned her eyes back to his face. She felt like a traveller on a giddy + path between a cliff and a precipice: there was nothing for it now but to + go on. + </p> + <p> + “Had it ... had it begun ... before you met her in Paris?” + </p> + <p> + “No; a thousand times no! I’ve told you the facts as they were.” + </p> + <p> + “All the facts?” + </p> + <p> + He turned abruptly. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Her throat was dry and the loud pulses drummed in her temples. + </p> + <p> + “I mean—about her.... Perhaps you knew ... knew things about + her ... beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped. The room had grown profoundly still. A log dropped to the + hearth and broke there in a hissing shower. + </p> + <p> + Darrow spoke in a clear voice. “I knew nothing, absolutely nothing,” he + said. + </p> + <p> + She had the answer to her inmost doubt—to her last shameful unavowed + hope. She sat powerless under her woe. + </p> + <p> + He walked to the fireplace and pushed back the broken log with his foot. A + flame shot out of it, and in the upward glare she saw his pale face, stern + with misery. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + She made a slight sign with her head and he came slowly back to her. “Then + is this to be good-bye?” + </p> + <p> + Again she signed a faint assent, and he made no effort to touch her or + draw nearer. “You understand that I sha’n’t come back?” + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her, and she tried to return his look, but her eyes were + blind with tears, and in dread of his seeing them she got up and walked + away. He did not follow her, and she stood with her back to him, staring + at a bowl of carnations on a little table strewn with books. Her tears + magnified everything she looked at, and the streaked petals of the + carnations, their fringed edges and frail curled stamens, pressed upon + her, huge and vivid. She noticed among the books a volume of verse he had + sent her from England, and tried to remember whether it was before or + after... + </p> + <p> + She felt that he was waiting for her to speak, and at last she turned to + him. “I shall see you to-morrow before you go...” + </p> + <p> + He made no answer. + </p> + <p> + She moved toward the door and he held it open for her. She saw his hand on + the door, and his seal ring in its setting of twisted silver; and the + sense of the end of all things came to her. + </p> + <p> + They walked down the drawing-rooms, between the shadowy reflections of + screens and cabinets, and mounted the stairs side by side. At the end of + the gallery, a lamp brought out turbid gleams in the smoky battle-piece + above it. + </p> + <p> + On the landing Darrow stopped; his room was the nearest to the stairs. + “Good night,” he said, holding out his hand. + </p> + <p> + As Anna gave him hers the springs of grief broke loose in her. She + struggled with her sobs, and subdued them; but her breath came unevenly, + and to hide her agitation she leaned on him and pressed her face against + his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t—don’t,” he whispered, soothing her. + </p> + <p> + Her troubled breathing sounded loudly in the silence of the sleeping + house. She pressed her lips tight, but could not stop the nervous + pulsations in her throat, and he put an arm about her and, opening his + door, drew her across the threshold of his room. The door shut behind her + and she sat down on the lounge at the foot of the bed. The pulsations in + her throat had ceased, but she knew they would begin again if she tried to + speak. + </p> + <p> + Darrow walked away and leaned against the mantelpiece. The red-veiled lamp + shone on his books and papers, on the arm-chair by the fire, and the + scattered objects on his dressing-table. A log glimmered on the hearth, + and the room was warm and faintly smoke-scented. It was the first time she + had ever been in a room he lived in, among his personal possessions and + the traces of his daily usage. Every object about her seemed to contain a + particle of himself: the whole air breathed of him, steeping her in the + sense of his intimate presence. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she thought: “This is what Sophy Viner knew”...and with a + torturing precision she pictured them alone in such a scene.... Had he taken + the girl to an hotel ... where did people go in such cases? Wherever they + were, the silence of night had been around them, and the things he used + had been strewn about the room.... Anna, ashamed of dwelling on the detested + vision, stood up with a confused impulse of flight; then a wave of + contrary feeling arrested her and she paused with lowered head. + </p> + <p> + Darrow had come forward as she rose, and she perceived that he was waiting + for her to bid him good night. It was clear that no other possibility had + even brushed his mind; and the fact, for some dim reason, humiliated her. + “Why not ... why not?” something whispered in her, as though his + forbearance, his tacit recognition of her pride, were a slight on other + qualities she wanted him to feel in her. + </p> + <p> + “In the morning, then?” she heard him say. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in the morning,” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + She continued to stand in the same place, looking vaguely about the room. + For once before they parted—since part they must—she longed to + be to him all that Sophy Viner had been; but she remained rooted to the + floor, unable to find a word or imagine a gesture that should express her + meaning. Exasperated by her helplessness, she thought: “Don’t I feel + things as other women do?” + </p> + <p> + Her eye fell on a note-case she had given him. It was worn at the corners + with the friction of his pocket and distended with thickly packed papers. + She wondered if he carried her letters in it, and she put her hand out and + touched it. + </p> + <p> + All that he and she had ever felt or seen, their close encounters of word + and look, and the closer contact of their silences, trembled through her + at the touch. She remembered things he had said that had been like new + skies above her head: ways he had that seemed a part of the air she + breathed. The faint warmth of her girlish love came back to her, gathering + heat as it passed through her thoughts; and her heart rocked like a boat + on the surge of its long long memories. “It’s because I love him in too + many ways,” she thought; and slowly she turned to the door. + </p> + <p> + She was aware that Darrow was still silently watching her, but he neither + stirred nor spoke till she had reached the threshold. Then he met her + there and caught her in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night—don’t tell me to-night!” he whispered; and she leaned + away from him, closing her eyes for an instant, and then slowly opening + them to the flood of light in his. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVII + </h2> + <p> + Anna and Darrow, the next day, sat alone in a compartment of the Paris + train. + </p> + <p> + Anna, when they entered it, had put herself in the farthest corner and + placed her bag on the adjoining seat. She had decided suddenly to + accompany Darrow to Paris, had even persuaded him to wait for a later + train in order that they might travel together. She had an intense longing + to be with him, an almost morbid terror of losing sight of him for a + moment: when he jumped out of the train and ran back along the platform to + buy a newspaper for her she felt as though she should never see him again, + and shivered with the cold misery of her last journey to Paris, when she + had thought herself parted from him forever. Yet she wanted to keep him at + a distance, on the other side of the compartment, and as the train moved + out of the station she drew from her bag the letters she had thrust in it + as she left the house, and began to glance over them so that her lowered + lids should hide her eyes from him. + </p> + <p> + She was his now, his for life: there could never again be any question of + sacrificing herself to Effie’s welfare, or to any other abstract + conception of duty. Effie of course would not suffer; Anna would pay for + her bliss as a wife by redoubled devotion as a mother. Her scruples were + not overcome; but for the time their voices were drowned in the tumultuous + rumour of her happiness. + </p> + <p> + As she opened her letters she was conscious that Darrow’s gaze was fixed + on her, and gradually it drew her eyes upward, and she drank deep of the + passionate tenderness in his. Then the blood rose to her face and she felt + again the desire to shield herself. She turned back to her letters and her + glance lit on an envelope inscribed in Owen’s hand. + </p> + <p> + Her heart began to beat oppressively: she was in a mood when the simplest + things seemed ominous. What could Owen have to say to her? Only the first + page was covered, and it contained simply the announcement that, in the + company of a young compatriot who was studying at the Beaux Arts, he had + planned to leave for Spain the following evening. + </p> + <p> + “He hasn’t seen her, then!” was Anna’s instant thought; and her feeling + was a strange compound of humiliation and relief. The girl had kept her + word, lived up to the line of conduct she had set herself; and Anna had + failed in the same attempt. She did not reproach herself with her failure; + but she would have been happier if there had been less discrepancy between + her words to Sophy Viner and the act which had followed them. It irritated + her obscurely that the girl should have been so much surer of her power to + carry out her purpose... + </p> + <p> + Anna looked up and saw that Darrow’s eyes were on the newspaper. He seemed + calm and secure, almost indifferent to her presence. “Will it become a + matter of course to him so soon?” she wondered with a twinge of jealousy. + She sat motionless, her eyes fixed on him, trying to make him feel the + attraction of her gaze as she felt his. It surprised and shamed her to + detect a new element in her love for him: a sort of suspicious tyrannical + tenderness that seemed to deprive it of all serenity. Finally he looked + up, his smile enveloped her, and she felt herself his in every fibre, his + so completely and inseparably that she saw the vanity of imagining any + other fate for herself. + </p> + <p> + To give herself a countenance she held out Owen’s letter. He took it and + glanced down the page, his face grown grave. She waited nervously till he + looked up. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a good plan; the best thing that could happen,” he said, a just + perceptible shade of constraint in his tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” she hastily assented. She was aware of a faint current of + relief silently circulating between them. They were both glad that Owen + was going, that for a while he would be out of their way; and it seemed to + her horrible that so much of the stuff of their happiness should be made + of such unavowed feelings... + </p> + <p> + “I shall see him this evening,” she said, wishing Darrow to feel that she + was not afraid of meeting her step-son. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course; perhaps he might dine with you.” + </p> + <p> + The words struck her as strangely obtuse. Darrow was to meet his + Ambassador at the station on the latter’s arrival, and would in all + probability have to spend the evening with him, and Anna knew he had been + concerned at the thought of having to leave her alone. But how could he + speak in that careless tone of her dining with Owen? She lowered her voice + to say: “I’m afraid he’s desperately unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + He answered, with a tinge of impatience: “It’s much the best thing that he + should travel.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—but don’t you feel...” She broke off. She knew how he disliked + these idle returns on the irrevocable, and her fear of doing or saying + what he disliked was tinged by a new instinct of subserviency against + which her pride revolted. She thought to herself: “He will see the change, + and grow indifferent to me as he did to <i>her</i>...” and for a moment it seemed + to her that she was reliving the experience of Sophy Viner. + </p> + <p> + Darrow made no attempt to learn the end of her unfinished sentence. He + handed back Owen’s letter and returned to his newspaper; and when he + looked up from it a few minutes later it was with a clear brow and a smile + that irresistibly drew her back to happier thoughts. + </p> + <p> + The train was just entering a station, and a moment later their + compartment was invaded by a commonplace couple preoccupied with the + bestowal of bulging packages. Anna, at their approach, felt the possessive + pride of the woman in love when strangers are between herself and the man + she loves. She asked Darrow to open the window, to place her bag in the + net, to roll her rug into a cushion for her feet; and while he was thus + busied with her she was conscious of a new devotion in his tone, in his + way of bending over her and meeting her eyes. He went back to his seat, + and they looked at each other like lovers smiling at a happy secret. + </p> + <p> + Anna, before going back to Givre, had suggested Owen’s moving into her + apartment, but he had preferred to remain at the hotel to which he had + sent his luggage, and on arriving in Paris she decided to drive there at + once. She was impatient to have the meeting over, and glad that Darrow was + obliged to leave her at the station in order to look up a colleague at the + Embassy. She dreaded his seeing Owen again, and yet dared not tell him so, + and to ensure his remaining away she mentioned an urgent engagement with + her dress-maker and a long list of commissions to be executed for Madame + de Chantelle. + </p> + <p> + “I shall see you to-morrow morning,” she said; but he replied with a smile + that he would certainly find time to come to her for a moment on his way + back from meeting the Ambassador; and when he had put her in a cab he + leaned through the window to press his lips to hers. + </p> + <p> + She blushed like a girl, thinking, half vexed, half happy: “Yesterday he + would not have done it...” and a dozen scarcely definable differences in + his look and manner seemed all at once to be summed up in the boyish act. + “After all, I’m engaged to him,” she reflected, and then smiled at the + absurdity of the word. The next instant, with a pang of self-reproach, she + remembered Sophy Viner’s cry: “I knew all the while he didn’t care...” + “Poor thing, oh poor thing!” Anna murmured... + </p> + <p> + At Owen’s hotel she waited in a tremor while the porter went in search of + him. Word was presently brought back that he was in his room and begged + her to come up, and as she crossed the hall she caught sight of his + portmanteaux lying on the floor, already labelled for departure. + </p> + <p> + Owen sat at a table writing, his back to the door; and when he stood up + the window was behind him, so that, in the rainy afternoon light, his + features were barely discernible. + </p> + <p> + “Dearest—so you’re really off?” she said, hesitating a moment on the + threshold. + </p> + <p> + He pushed a chair forward, and they sat down, each waiting for the other + to speak. Finally she put some random question about his + travelling-companion, a slow shy meditative youth whom he had once or + twice brought down to Givre. She reflected that it was natural he should + have given this uncommunicative comrade the preference over his livelier + acquaintances, and aloud she said: “I’m so glad Fred Rempson can go with + you.” + </p> + <p> + Owen answered in the same tone, and for a few minutes their talk dragged + itself on over a dry waste of common-places. Anna noticed that, though + ready enough to impart his own plans, Owen studiously abstained from + putting any questions about hers. It was evident from his allusions that + he meant to be away for some time, and he presently asked her if she would + give instructions about packing and sending after him some winter clothes + he had left at Givre. This gave her the opportunity to say that she + expected to go back within a day or two and would attend to the matter as + soon as she returned. She added: “I came up this morning with George, who + is going on to London to-morrow,” intending, by the use of Darrow’s + Christian name, to give Owen the chance to speak of her marriage. But he + made no comment, and she continued to hear the name sounding on + unfamiliarly between them. + </p> + <p> + The room was almost dark, and she finally stood up and glanced about for + the light-switch, saying: “I can’t see you, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t—I hate the light!” Owen exclaimed, catching her by the + wrist and pushing her back into her seat. He gave a nervous laugh and + added: “I’m half-blind with neuralgia. I suppose it’s this beastly rain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it will do you good to get down to Spain.” + </p> + <p> + She asked if he had the remedies the doctor had given him for a previous + attack, and on his replying that he didn’t know what he’d done with the + stuff, she sprang up, offering to go to the chemist’s. It was a relief to + have something to do for him, and she knew from his “Oh, thanks—would + you?” that it was a relief to him to have a pretext for not detaining her. + His natural impulse would have been to declare that he didn’t want any + drugs, and would be all right in no time; and his acquiescence showed her + how profoundly he felt the uselessness of their trying to prolong their + talk. His face was now no more than a white blur in the dusk, but she felt + its indistinctness as a veil drawn over aching intensities of expression. + “He knows ... he knows...” she said to herself, and wondered whether the + truth had been revealed to him by some corroborative fact or by the sheer + force of divination. + </p> + <p> + He had risen also, and was clearly waiting for her to go, and she turned + to the door, saying: “I’ll be back in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t come up again, please!” He paused, embarrassed. “I mean—I + may not be here. I’ve got to go and pick up Rempson, and see about some + final things with him.” She stopped on the threshold with a sinking heart. + He meant this to be their leave-taking, then—and he had not even + asked her when she was to be married, or spoken of seeing her again before + she set out for the other side of the world. + </p> + <p> + “Owen!” she cried, and turned back. + </p> + <p> + He stood mutely before her in the dimness. + </p> + <p> + “You haven’t told me how long you’re to be gone.” + </p> + <p> + “How long? Oh, you see ... that’s rather vague.... I hate definite dates, you + know...” + </p> + <p> + He paused and she saw he did not mean to help her out. She tried to say: + “You’ll be here for my wedding?” but could not bring the words to her + lips. Instead she murmured: “In six weeks I shall be going too...” and he + rejoined, as if he had expected the announcement and prepared his answer: + “Oh, by that time, very likely...” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, I won’t say good-bye,” she stammered, feeling the tears + beneath her veil. + </p> + <p> + “No, no; rather not!” he declared; but he made no movement, and she went + up and threw her arms about him. “You’ll write me, won’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, of course——” + </p> + <p> + Her hands slipped down into his, and for a minute they held each other + dumbly in the darkness; then he gave a vague laugh and said: “It’s really + time to light up.” He pressed the electric button with one hand while with + the other he opened the door; and she passed out without daring to turn + back, lest the light on his face should show her what she feared to see. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0043" id="link2H_4_0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXVIII + </h2> + <p> + Anna drove to the chemist’s for Owen’s remedy. On the way she stopped her + cab at a book-shop, and emerged from it laden with literature. She knew + what would interest Owen, and what he was likely to have read, and she had + made her choice among the newest publications with the promptness of a + discriminating reader. But on the way back to the hotel she was overcome + by the irony of adding this mental panacea to the other. There was + something grotesque and almost mocking in the idea of offering a judicious + selection of literature to a man setting out on such a journey. “He + knows ... he knows...” she kept on repeating; and giving the porter the + parcel from the chemist’s she drove away without leaving the books. She + went to her apartment, whither her maid had preceded her. There was a fire + in the drawing-room and the tea-table stood ready by the hearth. The + stormy rain beat against the uncurtained windows, and she thought of Owen, + who would soon be driving through it to the station, alone with his bitter + thoughts. She had been proud of the fact that he had always sought her + help in difficult hours; and now, in the most difficult of all, she was + the one being to whom he could not turn. Between them, henceforth, there + would always be the wall of an insurmountable silence.... She strained her + aching thoughts to guess how the truth had come to him. Had he seen the + girl, and had she told him? Instinctively, Anna rejected this conjecture. + But what need was there of assuming an explicit statement, when every + breath they had drawn for the last weeks had been charged with the + immanent secret? As she looked back over the days since Darrow’s first + arrival at Givre she perceived that at no time had any one deliberately + spoken, or anything been accidentally disclosed. The truth had come to + light by the force of its irresistible pressure; and the perception gave + her a startled sense of hidden powers, of a chaos of attractions and + repulsions far beneath the ordered surfaces of intercourse. She looked + back with melancholy derision on her old conception of life, as a kind of + well-lit and well policed suburb to dark places one need never know about. + Here they were, these dark places, in her own bosom, and henceforth she + would always have to traverse them to reach the beings she loved best! + </p> + <p> + She was still sitting beside the untouched tea-table when she heard + Darrow’s voice in the hall. She started up, saying to herself: “I must + tell him that Owen knows...” but when the door opened and she saw his + face, still lit by the same smile of boyish triumph, she felt anew the + uselessness of speaking.... Had he ever supposed that Owen would not know? + Probably, from the height of his greater experience, he had seen long + since that all that happened was inevitable; and the thought of it, at any + rate, was clearly not weighing on him now. + </p> + <p> + He was already dressed for the evening, and as he came toward her he said: + “The Ambassador’s booked for an official dinner and I’m free after all. + Where shall we dine?” + </p> + <p> + Anna had pictured herself sitting alone all the evening with her wretched + thoughts, and the fact of having to put them out of her mind for the next + few hours gave her an immediate sensation of relief. Already her pulses + were dancing to the tune of Darrow’s, and as they smiled at each other she + thought: “Nothing can ever change the fact that I belong to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall we dine?” he repeated gaily, and she named a well-known + restaurant for which she had once heard him express a preference. But as + she did so she fancied she saw a shadow on his face, and instantly she + said to herself: “It was <i>there</i> he went with her!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not there, after all!” she interrupted herself; and now she was + sure his colour deepened. + </p> + <p> + “Where shall it be, then?” + </p> + <p> + She noticed that he did not ask the reason of her change, and this + convinced her that she had guessed the truth, and that he knew she had + guessed it. “He will always know what I am thinking, and he will never + dare to ask me,” she thought; and she saw between them the same + insurmountable wall of silence as between herself and Owen, a wall of + glass through which they could watch each other’s faintest motions but + which no sound could ever traverse... + </p> + <p> + They drove to a restaurant on the Boulevard, and there, in their intimate + corner of the serried scene, the sense of what was unspoken between them + gradually ceased to oppress her. He looked so light-hearted and handsome, + so ingenuously proud of her, so openly happy at being with her, that no + other fact could seem real in his presence. He had learned that the + Ambassador was to spend two days in Paris, and he had reason to hope that + in consequence his own departure for London would be deferred. He was + exhilarated by the prospect of being with Anna for a few hours longer, and + she did not ask herself if his exhilaration were a sign of insensibility, + for she was too conscious of his power of swaying her moods not to be + secretly proud of affecting his. + </p> + <p> + They lingered for some time over the fruit and coffee, and when they rose + to go Darrow suggested that, if she felt disposed for the play, they were + not too late for the second part of the programme at one of the smaller + theatres. + </p> + <p> + His mention of the hour recalled Owen to her thoughts. She saw his train + rushing southward through the storm, and, in a corner of the swaying + compartment, his face, white and indistinct as it had loomed on her in the + rainy twilight. It was horrible to be thus perpetually paying for her + happiness! + </p> + <p> + Darrow had called for a theatrical journal, and he presently looked up + from it to say: “I hear the second play at the Athénée is amusing.” + </p> + <p> + It was on Anna’s lips to acquiesce; but as she was about to speak she + wondered if it were not at the Athénée that Owen had seen Darrow with + Sophy Viner. She was not sure he had even mentioned the theatre, but the + mere possibility was enough to darken her sky. It was hateful to her to + think of accompanying Darrow to places where the girl had been with him. + She tried to reason away this scruple, she even reminded herself with a + bitter irony that whenever she was in Darrow’s arms she was where the girl + had been before her—but she could not shake off her superstitious + dread of being with him in any of the scenes of the Parisian episode. She + replied that she was too tired for the play, and they drove back to her + apartment. At the foot of the stairs she half-turned to wish him good + night, but he appeared not to notice her gesture and followed her up to + her door. + </p> + <p> + “This is ever so much better than the theatre,” he said as they entered + the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + She had crossed the room and was bending over the hearth to light the + fire. She knew he was approaching her, and that in a moment he would have + drawn the cloak from her shoulders and laid his lips on her neck, just + below the gathered-up hair. These privileges were his and, however + deferently and tenderly he claimed them, the joyous ease of his manner + marked a difference and proclaimed a right. + </p> + <p> + “After the theatre they came home like this,” she thought; and at the same + instant she felt his hands on her shoulders and shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t—oh, don’t!” she cried, drawing her cloak about her. She saw + from his astonished stare that her face must be quivering with pain. + </p> + <p> + “Anna! What on earth is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Owen knows!” she broke out, with a confused desire to justify herself. + </p> + <p> + Darrow’s countenance changed. “Did he tell you so? What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing! I knew it from the things he didn’t say.” + </p> + <p> + “You had a talk with him this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: for a few minutes. I could see he didn’t want me to stay.” + </p> + <p> + She had dropped into a chair, and sat there huddled, still holding her + cloak about her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Darrow did not dispute her assumption, and she noticed that he expressed + no surprise. He sat down at a little distance from her, turning about in + his fingers the cigar-case he had drawn out as they came in. At length he + said: “Had he seen Miss Viner?” + </p> + <p> + She shrank from the sound of the name. “No.... I don’t think so.... I’m sure + he hadn’t...” + </p> + <p> + They remained silent, looking away from one another. Finally Darrow stood + up and took a few steps across the room. He came back and paused before + her, his eyes on her face. + </p> + <p> + “I think you ought to tell me what you mean to do.” She raised her head + and gave him back his look. “Nothing I do can help Owen!” + </p> + <p> + “No; but things can’t go on like this.” He paused, as if to measure his + words. “I fill you with aversion,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + She started up, half-sobbing. “No—oh, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child—you can’t see your face!” + </p> + <p> + She lifted her hands as if to hide it, and turning away from him bowed her + head upon the mantel-shelf. She felt that he was standing a little way + behind her, but he made no attempt to touch her or come nearer. + </p> + <p> + “I know you’ve felt as I’ve felt,” he said in a low voice—“that we + belong to each other and that nothing can alter that. But other thoughts + come, and you can’t banish them. Whenever you see me you remember ... you + associate me with things you abhor.... You’ve been generous—immeasurably. + You’ve given me all the chances a woman could; but if it’s only made you + suffer, what’s the use?” + </p> + <p> + She turned to him with a tear-stained face. “It hasn’t only done that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I know.... There’ve been moments...” He took her hand and raised it + to his lips. “They’ll be with me as long as I live. But I can’t see you + paying such a price for them. I’m not worth what I’m costing you.” + </p> + <p> + She continued to gaze at him through tear-dilated eyes; and suddenly she + flung out the question: “Wasn’t it the Athénée you took her to that + evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Anna—Anna!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I want to know now: to know everything. Perhaps that will make me + forget. I ought to have made you tell me before. Wherever we go, I imagine + you’ve been there with her.... I see you together. I want to know how it + began, where you went, why you left her.... I can’t go on in this darkness + any longer!” + </p> + <p> + She did not know what had prompted her passionate outburst, but already + she felt lighter, freer, as if at last the evil spell were broken. “I want + to know everything,” she repeated. “It’s the only way to make me forget.” + </p> + <p> + After she had ceased speaking Darrow remained where he was, his arms + folded, his eyes lowered, immovable. She waited, her gaze on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Aren’t you going to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” The blood rushed to her temples. “You won’t? Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “If I did, do you suppose you’d forget <i>that</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—” she moaned, and turned away from him. + </p> + <p> + “You see it’s impossible,” he went on. “I’ve done a thing I loathe, and to + atone for it you ask me to do another. What sort of satisfaction would + that give you? It would put something irremediable between us.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned her elbow against the mantel-shelf and hid her face in her + hands. She had the sense that she was vainly throwing away her last hope + of happiness, yet she could do nothing, think of nothing, to save it. The + conjecture flashed through her: “Should I be at peace if I gave him up?” + and she remembered the desolation of the days after she had sent him away, + and understood that that hope was vain. The tears welled through her lids + and ran slowly down between her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye,” she heard him say, and his footsteps turned to the door. + </p> + <p> + She tried to raise her head, but the weight of her despair bowed it down. + She said to herself: “This is the end ... he won’t try to appeal to me + again...” and she remained in a sort of tranced rigidity, perceiving + without feeling the fateful lapse of the seconds. Then the cords that + bound her seemed to snap, and she lifted her head and saw him going. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he’s mine—he’s mine! He’s no one else’s!” His face was turned + to her and the look in his eyes swept away all her terrors. She no longer + understood what had prompted her senseless outcry; and the mortal + sweetness of loving him became again the one real fact in the world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0044" id="link2H_4_0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIX + </h2> + <p> + Anna, the next day, woke to a humiliated memory of the previous evening. + </p> + <p> + Darrow had been right in saying that their sacrifice would benefit no one; + yet she seemed dimly to discern that there were obligations not to be + tested by that standard. She owed it, at any rate, as much to his pride as + to hers to abstain from the repetition of such scenes; and she had learned + that it was beyond her power to do so while they were together. Yet when + he had given her the chance to free herself, everything had vanished from + her mind but the blind fear of losing him; and she saw that he and she + were as profoundly and inextricably bound together as two trees with + interwoven roots. For a long time she brooded on her plight, vaguely + conscious that the only escape from it must come from some external + chance. And slowly the occasion shaped itself in her mind. It was Sophy + Viner only who could save her—Sophy Viner only who could give her + back her lost serenity. She would seek the girl out and tell her that she + had given Darrow up; and that step once taken there would be no retracing + it, and she would perforce have to go forward alone. + </p> + <p> + Any pretext for action was a kind of anodyne, and she despatched her maid + to the Farlows’ with a note asking if Miss Viner would receive her. There + was a long delay before the maid returned, and when at last she appeared + it was with a slip of paper on which an address was written, and a verbal + message to the effect that Miss Viner had left some days previously, and + was staying with her sister in a hotel near the Place de l’Etoile. The + maid added that Mrs. Farlow, on the plea that Miss Viner’s plans were + uncertain, had at first made some difficulty about giving this + information; and Anna guessed that the girl had left her friends’ roof, + and instructed them to withhold her address, with the object of avoiding + Owen. “She’s kept faith with herself and I haven’t,” Anna mused; and the + thought was a fresh incentive to action. + </p> + <p> + Darrow had announced his intention of coming soon after luncheon, and the + morning was already so far advanced that Anna, still mistrustful of her + strength, decided to drive immediately to the address Mrs. Farlow had + given. On the way there she tried to recall what she had heard of Sophy + Viner’s sister, but beyond the girl’s enthusiastic report of the absent + Laura’s loveliness she could remember only certain vague allusions of Mrs. + Farlow’s to her artistic endowments and matrimonial vicissitudes. Darrow + had mentioned her but once, and in the briefest terms, as having + apparently very little concern for Sophy’s welfare, and being, at any + rate, too geographically remote to give her any practical support; and + Anna wondered what chance had brought her to her sister’s side at this + conjunction. Mrs. Farlow had spoken of her as a celebrity (in what line + Anna failed to recall); but Mrs. Farlow’s celebrities were legion, and the + name on the slip of paper—Mrs. McTarvie-Birch—did not seem to + have any definite association with fame. + </p> + <p> + While Anna waited in the dingy vestibule of the Hotel Chicago she had so + distinct a vision of what she meant to say to Sophy Viner that the girl + seemed already to be before her; and her heart dropped from all the height + of its courage when the porter, after a long delay, returned with the + announcement that Miss Viner was no longer in the hotel. Anna, doubtful if + she understood, asked if he merely meant that the young lady was out at + the moment; but he replied that she had gone away the day before. Beyond + this he had no information to impart, and after a moment’s hesitation Anna + sent him back to enquire if Mrs. McTarvie-Birch would receive her. She + reflected that Sophy had probably pledged her sister to the same secrecy + as Mrs. Farlow, and that a personal appeal to Mrs. Birch might lead to + less negative results. + </p> + <p> + There was another long interval of suspense before the porter reappeared + with an affirmative answer; and a third while an exiguous and hesitating + lift bore her up past a succession of shabby landings. + </p> + <p> + When the last was reached, and her guide had directed her down a winding + passage that smelt of sea-going luggage, she found herself before a door + through which a strong odour of tobacco reached her simultaneously with + the sounds of a suppressed altercation. Her knock was followed by a + silence, and after a minute or two the door was opened by a handsome young + man whose ruffled hair and general air of creased disorder led her to + conclude that he had just risen from a long-limbed sprawl on a sofa strewn + with tumbled cushions. This sofa, and a grand piano bearing a basket of + faded roses, a biscuit-tin and a devastated breakfast tray, almost filled + the narrow sitting-room, in the remaining corner of which another man, + short, swarthy and humble, sat examining the lining of his hat. + </p> + <p> + Anna paused in doubt; but on her naming Mrs. Birch the young man politely + invited her to enter, at the same time casting an impatient glance at the + mute spectator in the background. + </p> + <p> + The latter, raising his eyes, which were round and bulging, fixed them, + not on the young man but on Anna, whom, for a moment, he scrutinized as + searchingly as the interior of his hat. Under his gaze she had the sense + of being minutely catalogued and valued; and the impression, when he + finally rose and moved toward the door, of having been accepted as a + better guarantee than he had had any reason to hope for. On the threshold + his glance crossed that of the young man in an exchange of intelligence as + full as it was rapid; and this brief scene left Anna so oddly enlightened + that she felt no surprise when her companion, pushing an arm-chair + forward, sociably asked her if she wouldn’t have a cigarette. Her polite + refusal provoked the remark that he would, if she’d no objection; and + while he groped for matches in his loose pockets, and behind the + photographs and letters crowding the narrow mantel-shelf, she ventured + another enquiry for Mrs. Birch. + </p> + <p> + “Just a minute,” he smiled; “I think the masseur’s with her.” He spoke in + a smooth denationalized English, which, like the look in his long-lashed + eyes and the promptness of his charming smile, suggested a long training + in all the arts of expediency. Having finally discovered a match-box on + the floor beside the sofa, he lit his cigarette and dropped back among the + cushions; and on Anna’s remarking that she was sorry to disturb Mrs. Birch + he replied that that was all right, and that she always kept everybody + waiting. + </p> + <p> + After this, through the haze of his perpetually renewed cigarettes, they + continued to chat for some time of indifferent topics; but when at last + Anna again suggested the possibility of her seeing Mrs. Birch he rose from + his corner with a slight shrug, and murmuring: “She’s perfectly hopeless,” + lounged off through an inner door. + </p> + <p> + Anna was still wondering when and in what conjunction of circumstances the + much-married Laura had acquired a partner so conspicuous for his personal + charms, when the young man returned to announce: “She says it’s all right, + if you don’t mind seeing her in bed.” + </p> + <p> + He drew aside to let Anna pass, and she found herself in a dim untidy + scented room, with a pink curtain pinned across its single window, and a + lady with a great deal of fair hair and uncovered neck smiling at her from + a pink bed on which an immense powder-puff trailed. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mind, do you? He costs such a frightful lot that I can’t afford + to send him off,” Mrs. Birch explained, extending a thickly-ringed hand to + Anna, and leaving her in doubt as to whether the person alluded to were + her masseur or her husband. Before a reply was possible there was a + convulsive stir beneath the pink expanse, and something that resembled + another powder-puff hurled itself at Anna with a volley of sounds like the + popping of Lilliputian champagne corks. Mrs. Birch, flinging herself + forward, gasped out: “If you’d just give him a caramel ... there, in that + box on the dressing-table ... it’s the only earthly thing to stop him...” + and when Anna had proffered this sop to her assailant, and he had + withdrawn with it beneath the bedspread, his mistress sank back with a + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t he a beauty? The Prince gave him to me down at Nice the other day—but + he’s perfectly awful,” she confessed, beaming intimately on her visitor. + In the roseate penumbra of the bed-curtains she presented to Anna’s + startled gaze an odd chromo-like resemblance to Sophy Viner, or a + suggestion, rather, of what Sophy Viner might, with the years and in spite + of the powder-puff, become. Larger, blonder, heavier-featured, she yet had + glances and movements that disturbingly suggested what was freshest and + most engaging in the girl; and as she stretched her bare plump arm across + the bed she seemed to be pulling back the veil from dingy distances of + family history. + </p> + <p> + “Do sit down, if there’s a place to sit on,” she cordially advised; + adding, as Anna took the edge of a chair hung with miscellaneous raiment: + “My singing takes so much time that I don’t get a chance to walk the fat + off—that’s the worst of being an artist.” + </p> + <p> + Anna murmured an assent. “I hope it hasn’t inconvenienced you to see me; I + told Mr. Birch—” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. <i>who</i>?” the recumbent beauty asked; and then: “Oh, <i>Jimmy</i>!” she faintly + laughed, as if more for her own enlightenment than Anna’s. + </p> + <p> + The latter continued eagerly: “I understand from Mrs. Farlow that your + sister was with you, and I ventured to come up because I wanted to ask you + when I should have a chance of finding her.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. McTarvie-Birch threw back her head with a long stare. “Do you mean to + say the idiot at the door didn’t tell you? Sophy went away last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Last night?” Anna echoed. A sudden terror had possessed her. Could it be + that the girl had tricked them all and gone with Owen? The idea was + incredible, yet it took such hold of her that she could hardly steady her + lips to say: “The porter did tell me, but I thought perhaps he was + mistaken. Mrs. Farlow seemed to think that I should find her here.” + </p> + <p> + “It was all so sudden that I don’t suppose she had time to let the Farlows + know. She didn’t get Mrs. Murrett’s wire till yesterday, and she just + pitched her things into a trunk and rushed——” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Murrett?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. Sophy’s gone to India with Mrs. Murrett; they’re to meet at + Brindisi,” Sophy’s sister said with a calm smile. + </p> + <p> + Anna sat motionless, gazing at the disordered room, the pink bed, the + trivial face among the pillows. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. McTarvie-Birch pursued: “They had a fearful kick-up last spring—I + daresay you knew about it—but I told Sophy she’d better lump it, as + long as the old woman was willing to.... As an artist, of course, it’s + perfectly impossible for me to have her with me...” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Anna mechanically assented. + </p> + <p> + Through the confused pain of her thoughts she was hardly aware that Mrs. + Birch’s explanations were still continuing. “Naturally I didn’t altogether + approve of her going back to that beast of a woman. I said all I could.... I + told her she was a fool to chuck up such a place as yours. But Sophy’s + restless—always was—and she’s taken it into her head she’d + rather travel...” + </p> + <p> + Anna rose from her seat, groping for some formula of leave-taking. The + pushing back of her chair roused the white dog’s smouldering animosity, + and he drowned his mistress’s further confidences in another outburst of + hysterics. Through the tumult Anna signed an inaudible farewell, and Mrs. + Birch, having momentarily succeeded in suppressing her pet under a pillow, + called out: “Do come again! I’d love to sing to you.” + </p> + <p> + Anna murmured a word of thanks and turned to the door. As she opened it + she heard her hostess crying after her: “Jimmy! Do you hear me? Jimmy + <i>Brance</i>!” and then, there being no response from the person summoned: “<i>Do</i> + tell him he must go and call the lift for you!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Reef, by Edith Wharton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE REEF *** + +***** This file should be named 283-h.htm or 283-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/283/ + +Produced by Gail Jahn, John Hamm and David Widger + +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. 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