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diff --git a/28301-h/28301-h.htm b/28301-h/28301-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6ab0c0 --- /dev/null +++ b/28301-h/28301-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13709 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Beloved Woman, by Kathleen Norris</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 12%;} + p {margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; text-align: justify;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + hr {text-align: center; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both; + width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.short {width: 20%;} + .extratop {margin-top: 3em;} + + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: 80%; + padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 90%; font-size: 75%;} + .pagenum, span.pagenum {text-align: right;} + .center, div.center p {text-align: center;} + .smcap, .dcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 10% .75em 5%; + font-size: smaller; text-align: justify; } + + .poem {margin-left: 20%; font-size: smaller; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + /* all 75 percent of width */ + .poem span.i0 {margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {margin-left: 1.5em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Beloved Woman, by Kathleen Norris + +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 Beloved Woman + +Author: Kathleen Norris + +Release Date: March 10, 2009 [EBook #28301] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BELOVED WOMAN *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +book was produced from scanned images of public domain +material from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="center"> +<h1>THE<br /> +BELOVED WOMAN</h1> + +<h2><span class="smcap">By</span> KATHLEEN NORRIS</h2> + +<p class="smcap">Author of</p> + +<p><i>"Harriet and the Piper," etc.</i> +</p> + +<p class="extratop larger">A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +Publishers<br /> +New York</p> + +<p class="smaller">Published by arrangement with Doubleday, Page & Company<br /> +Printed in U. S. A.</p> + +<div class="smaller"> +<p class="extratop">COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY<br /> +KATHLEEN NORRIS</p> + +<p>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION<br /> +INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN</p> + +<p>COPYRIGHT 1920, 1921, BY THE PICTORIAL REVIEW COMPANY</p> + +<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES<br /> +AT<br /> +THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.</p> +</div> + +<p class="extratop larger">TO<br /> +MARY O'SULLIVAN SUTRO +</p> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For gifts beyond all counting and esteeming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For kindness than which Heaven's self is not kinder,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the old days of tears, and smiles, and dreaming,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This in acknowledgment, and in reminder.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">For</span> forty-eight hours the snow-storm had been raging +unabated over New York. After a wild and windy +Thursday night the world had awakened to a mysterious +whirl of white on Friday morning, and to a dark, +strange day of steady snowing. Now, on Saturday, +dirty snow was banked and heaped in great blocks +everywhere, and still the clean, new flakes fluttered +and twirled softly down, powdering and feathering +every little ledge and sill, blanketing areas in spotless +white, capping and hooding every unsightly hydrant +and rubbish-can with exquisite and lavish beauty. +Shovels had clinked on icy sidewalks all the first day, +and even during the night the sound of shouting and +scraping had not ceased for a moment, and their more +and more obvious helplessness in the teeth of the +storm awakened at last in the snow-shovellers, and in +the men and women who gasped and stumbled along +the choked thoroughfares, a sort of heady exhilaration +in the emergency, a tendency to be proud of the storm, +and of its effect upon their humdrum lives. They +laughed and shouted as they battled with it, and as +Nature's great barrier of snow threw down the little +barriers of convention and shyness. Men held out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +their hands to slipping and stumbling women, caught +them by their shoulders, panted to them that this was +a storm, all right, this was the worst yet! Girls, +staggering in through the revolving glass doors of the +big department stores, must stand laughing helplessly +for a few seconds in the gush of reviving warmth, while +they beat their wet gloves together, regaining breath +and self-possession, and straightened outraged millinery.</p> + +<p>Traffic was congested, deserted trucks and motor-cars +lined the side streets, the subways were jammed, the +surface cars helpless. Here and there long lines of +the omnibuses stood blocked in snow, and the press +frantically heralded impending shortages of milk and +coal, reiterating pessimistically: "No relief in sight."</p> + +<p>But late in Saturday morning there was a sudden +lull. The snow stopped, the wind fell, and the pure, +cold air was motionless and sweet. The city emerged +exhausted from its temporary blanketing, and from +the buried benches of Bowling Green to the virgin sweep +of pure white beyond Van Cortlandt Park, began its +usual January fight with the snow.</p> + +<p>A handsome, rosy old lady, wrapped regally in furs, +and with a maid picking her way cautiously beside her, +was one of the first to take advantage of the sudden +change in the weather. Mrs. Melrose had been held +captive for almost two days, first by Thursday's +inclement winds, and then by the blizzard. Her motor-car +was useless, and although at sixty she was an +extremely youthful and vigorous woman, her daughters +and granddaughter had threatened to use force rather +than let her risk the danger of an expedition on foot, +at least while the storm continued.</p> + +<p>But now the wind was gone, and by the time Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +Melrose had been properly shod, and coated, and +hatted, there was even a dull glimmer toward the southeast +that indicated the location of the long-lost sun. +The old lady looked her approval at Fifth Avenue, +with all its crudities veiled and softened by the snowfall, +and as she climbed into an omnibus expressed +herself firmly to Regina.</p> + +<p>"You mark my words, the sun will be out before we +come home!"</p> + +<p>Regina, punching the two dimes carefully into the +jolting receiver, made only a respectful murmur for +answer. She was, like many a maid, a snob where +her mistress was concerned, and she did not like to +have Mrs. Melrose ride in public omnibuses. For +Regina herself it did not matter, but Mrs. Melrose +was one of the city's prominent and wealthy women, +and Regina could not remember that she had ever sunk +to the use of a public conveyance before to-day. The +maid was glad when they descended at a street in the +East Sixties. They would probably be sent home, +she reflected, in Mrs. Liggett's car. For Regina noticed +that private cars were beginning to grind and +slip over the snow again.</p> + +<p>Old Mrs. Melrose was going to see her daughter Alice, +who was Mrs. Christopher Liggett, because Alice was +an invalid. It had been only a few years after Alice's +most felicitous marriage, a dozen years ago, when an +accident had laid the lovely and brilliant woman +upon the bed of helplessness that she might never leave +again. There was no real reason why the spine should +continue useless, the great specialists said, there was a +hope—even a probability—that as Alice grew rested +and strong, after the serious accident, she might find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +herself walking again. But Alice had been a prisoner +for ten years now, and the mother and sister who idolized +her feared that she would never again be the old +dancing Alice and feared that she knew it. What +Christopher Liggett feared they did not know. He +insisted that Alice's illness was but temporary, and +was tireless in his energetic pursuit of treatment for +his wife. Everything must be hoped, and everything +must be tried, and Alice's mother knew that one of the +real crosses of her daughter's life was sorrowful pity +for Chris's optimistic delusions.</p> + +<p>The young Liggetts had sold the old house of Christopher's +father, an immense brownstone mansion a +few squares away, and lived in a modern, flat-faced +gray-stone house that rose five stories from the beautifully +arranged basement entrance. There were stone +benches at the entrance, and a great iron grill, and +two potted trees, and the small square windows were +leaded, and showed blossoming plants inside. The three +long windows above gave upon a little-used formal +drawing-room, with a Gothic fireplace of white stone at +one end, and a dim jumble of rich colours and polished +surfaces between that and the big piano at the other. +The room at the back, on this floor, was an equally +large and formal dining-room, gleaming with carved +mahogany and fretted plate, used only on the rare +occasions of a dinner-party.</p> + +<p>But on the floor above the gracious mistress of the +house had her domain, and here there was enough +beauty and colour to make the whole house live. The +front room, cool all summer because it faced north, +and warm all winter, because of the great open fireplace +that augmented the furnace heat, was Alice's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +sitting-room; comfortable, beautiful, and exquisitely +ordered. None of the usual clutter of the invalid was +there. The fireplace was of plain creamy tiling, the +rugs dull-toned upon a dark, polished floor. There +were only two canvases on the dove-gray walls, and +the six or seven photographs that were arranged together +on the top of one of the low, plain, built-in +bookcases, were framed alike. There were no meaningless +vases, no jars or trays or plaques or ornaments +in Alice's room. Her flowers she liked to see in shining +glass bowls; her flat-topped desk was severely bare.</p> + +<p>But the cretonne that dressed her big comfortable +chairs and her couch was bright with roses and parrots +and hollyhocks, and the same cretonne, with plain +net undercurtaining, hung at her four front windows. +The room was big enough to accommodate besides, even +with an air of space and simplicity, the little grand +piano that Christopher played for her almost every +night. A great Persian tortoise-shell cat was at home +here, and sometimes Alice had her magnificent parrot +besides, hanging himself upside down on his gaily-painted +stand, and veiling the beady, sharp eye with +which he watched her. The indulgent extravagance +of her mother had bound all the books that Alice loved +in the same tone of stony-blue vellum, the countless +cushions with which the aching back was so skillfully +packed were of the same dull tone, and it pleased the +persons who loved her to amuse the prisoner sometimes +with a ring in which her favourite note was repeated, +or a chain of old lapis-lazuli that made Alice's appreciative +blue eyes more blue.</p> + +<p>Back of Alice's room was a den in which Christopher +could conduct much of his personal business, and be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>yond +that was the luxurious bathroom, a modern miracle +of enamel tiling and shining glass. Across the +sun-flooded back of the house were Alice's little bedroom, +nunlike in its rigid austerity, her nurse's room +adjoining, and a square sun-room, giving glimpses of +roofs and trim back-gardens, full of flowers, with a little +fountain and goldfish, a floor of dull pink tiling, and +plants in great jars of Chinese enamel. Christopher +had planned this delightful addition to Alice's domain +only a few years ago, and, with that knowledge of her +secret heart that only Christopher could claim, had +let her share the pleasure of designing and arranging it. +It stretched out across the west side of the spacious +backyard, almost touching the branches of the great +plane tree, and when, after the painful move to her +mother's house, and the necessary absence during the +building of it, Alice had been brought back to this new +evidence of their love and goodness, she had buried +her face against Christopher's shoulder, and told him +that she didn't think people with all the world to wander +in had ever had anything lovelier than this!</p> + +<p>One of the paintings that Alice might look at idly, in +the silence of the winter noon, was of a daisied meadow, +stretching between walls of heavy summer woodland +to the roof of a half-buried farmhouse in the valley +below. The other picture was of the very mother who +was coming toward Alice now, in the jolting omnibus. +But it was a younger mother, and a younger Alice, +that had been captured by the painter's genius. It +was a stout, imperious, magnificently gowned woman, +of not much more than thirty, in whose spreading silk +lap a fair little girl was sitting. This little earnest-eyed +child was Alice at seven. The splendid, dark-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>eyed, +proud-looking boy of about fourteen, who stood +beside the mother, was Teddy, her only son, dead now +for many years, and perhaps mercifully dead. The +fourth and last person pictured was the elder daughter, +Annie, who had been about nine years old then, Alice +remembered. Annie and Alice had been unusually +alike, even for sisters, but even then Annie's fair, +aristocratic type of blonde prettiness had been definite +where Alice's was vague, and Annie's expression had +been just a trifle haughty and discontented where +Alice's was always grave and sweet. Annie had +almost been a beauty, she was extremely and conspicuously +good-looking even now, when as Mrs. +Hendrick von Behrens, wife of a son of an old and +wealthy Knickerbocker family, she was supreme in +the very holy of holies of the city's social life.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose came unannounced upon her daughter +to-day, and Alice's colourless warm cheek flushed with +happiness under her mother's fresh, cold kiss.</p> + +<p>"Mummy—you darling! But how did you get +here? Miss Slater says that the streets are absolutely +impassable!"</p> + +<p>"I came in the 'bus, dear," Mrs. Melrose said, very +much pleased with herself. "How warm and comfy +you are in here, darling. But what did I interrupt?"</p> + +<p>"You didn't interrupt anything," Alice said, quickly. +"Chris telephoned, and he's bringing Henrici—the +Frenchman who wrote that play I loved so—to tea. +Isn't that fun? I'm so excited—and I think Chris was +such a duck to get hold of him. I was translating it, +you know, and Bowditch, who was here for dinner last +night, told me he'd place it, if I finished it. And now +I can talk it over with Henrici himself—thanks to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +Chris! Chris met my man at the club, and told him +about me, and he said he would be charmed. So I +telephoned several persons, and I tried to get hold of +Annie——"</p> + +<p>"Annie has a lunch—and a board meeting at the +hospital at four," Annie's mother remembered, "and +Leslie is at a girls' luncheon somewhere. Annie had +breakfast with me, and was rushing off afterward. +She's quite wonderfully faithful about those things."</p> + +<p>"Well, but you'll stay for lunch and tea, too, +Mummy?" Alice pleaded. She was lying back in +her pillows, feasting her eyes upon her mother's face +with that peculiarly tense devotion that was part of +her nature. Rarely did a day pass without their +meeting, and no detail touching Annie's life, Annie's +boys or husband, was too small to interest Alice. She +was especially interested, too, in Leslie, the eighteen-year-old +daughter that her brother Theodore had left +to his mother's care; in fact, between the mother and +daughters, the one granddaughter and two little grandsons, +and the two sons-in-law of the Melrose family, +a deep bond existed, a bond of pride as well as affection. +It was one of their favourite boasts that to the +Melroses the unity and honour of the family was the +first consideration in the world.</p> + +<p>But to-day Mrs. Melrose could not stay. At one +o'clock she left Alice to be put into her prettiest robe +by the devoted Miss Slater, saw with satisfaction that +preparations for tea were noiselessly under way, called +Regina, odorous of tea and mutton chops, from the +pantry, and went out into the quiet cold of the winter +noon.</p> + +<p>The old Melrose house was a substantial, roomy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +brownstone building in Madison Avenue, inconspicuous +perhaps among several notoriously handsome homes, +but irreproachably dignified none the less. A few +blocks below it the commercial current of East Thirty-fourth +Street ebbed and flowed; a few blocks north +the great façade of the Grand Central Station shut +off the street completely. Third Avenue, behind it, +swarmed and rattled alarmingly close, and Broadway +flared its impudent signs only five minutes' walk in +the other direction, but here, in a little oasis of quiet +street, two score of old families serenely held their +place against the rising tide, and among them the +Melroses confidently felt themselves valued and significant.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose mounted her steps with the householder's +secret complacency. They were scrupulously +brushed of the last trace of snow, and the heavy door +at the top swung noiselessly open to admit her. She +suddenly realized that she was very tired, that her +fur coat was heavy, and her back ached. She swept +straight to the dark old curving stairway, and mounted +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Joseph," she said over her shoulder, "send luncheon +upstairs, please. And when Miss Leslie comes in, +tell her I should like to see her, if it isn't too late. +Anybody coming to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. von Behrens telephoned that he and Mr. +Liggett might come in for a moment, on his way to the +banquet at the Waldorf, Madam. But that was all."</p> + +<p>"I may have dinner upstairs, too, if Leslie is going +anywhere," Mrs. Melrose said to herself, mounting +slowly. And it seemed to her fatigue very restful to +find her big room warm and orderly, her coal fire burning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +behind the old-fashioned steel rods, all the homely, +comfortable treasures of her busy years awaiting +her. She sank into a chair, and Regina flew noiselessly +about with slippers and a loose silk robe. Presently +a maid was serving smoking-hot bouillon, and +Mrs. Melrose felt herself relaxed and soothed; it was +good to be home.</p> + +<p>Yet there was trace of uneasiness, of something +almost like apprehension, in the look that wandered +thoughtfully about the overcrowded room. Presently +she reached a plump, well-groomed hand toward +the bell. But when Regina came to stand expectantly +near her, Mrs. Melrose roused herself from a profound +abstraction to assure her that she had not rung—it +must have been a mistake.</p> + +<p>"Miss Leslie hasn't come in?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, Madam, Miss Melrose is at Miss Higgins's +luncheon."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but it was an early luncheon," the grandmother +said, discontentedly. "She was playing squash, +or tennis, or something! Regina——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madam?"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Melrose was musing again.</p> + +<p>"Regina, I am expecting a caller at four o'clock, a +Mrs. Sheridan. Please see that she is shown up at +once. I want to see her here. And please——"</p> + +<p>A pause. Regina waited.</p> + +<p>"That's all!" her mistress announced, suddenly.</p> + +<p>Alone again, the old lady stirred her tea, ruminated +for a few moments with narrowed eyes fixed on space, +recalled herself to her surroundings, and finished her cup.</p> + +<p>Her room was large, filled with chairs and tables, +lamps and cushions, silver trays and lacquer boxes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +vases and jars and bowls, gift books and current magazines. +There was not an unbroken inch of surface +anywhere, the walls were closely set with pictures +of all sorts. Along the old-fashioned mantel, a scalloped, +narrow shelf of marble, was a crowding line of +photographs in silver frames, and there were other +framed photographs all about the room. There were +the young mothers of the late eighties, seated to best +display their bustles and their French twists, with +heavy-headed infants in their tightly cased arms, and +there were children's pictures, babes in shells, in swings, +or leaning on gates. There were three Annies: one +in ringlets, plaid silk, and tasselled boots, at eight; one +magnificent in drawing-room plumes; and a recent one, +a cloudy study of the severely superb mother, with +a sleek-headed, wide-collared boy on each side of her. +There was a photograph of the son Theodore, handsome, +sullen, dressed in the fashion of the opening century, +and there was more than one of Theodore's daughter, +the last of the Melroses. Leslie had been a wide-eyed, +sturdy little girl who carried a perpetually surprised, +even a babyish expression into her teens, but her last +pictures showed the débutante, the piquant and charming +eighteen-year-old, whose knowingly tipped hat +and high fur collar left only a glimpse of pretty and +pouting face between.</p> + +<p>Leslie came in upon her grandmother at about three +o'clock. She was genuinely tired, after an athletic +morning at the club, a luncheon amid a group of +chattering intimates, and a walk with the young man +whose attentions to her were thrilling not only her +grandmother and aunts, but the cool-blooded little +Leslie herself. Acton Liggett was Christopher's only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +brother, only relative indeed, and promised already to +be as great a favourite as the irresistible Chris himself. +Both were rich, both fine-looking, straightforward, honourable +men, proud of their own integrity, their long-established +family, and their old firm. Acton was +pleasantly at home in the Melrose, Liggett, and Von +Behrens houses, the very maids loved him, and his +quiet singling out of Leslie for his devotion had satisfied +everyone's sense of what was fitting and delightful. +Pretty Leslie, back from a summer's idling with Aunt +Annie and the little boys, in California and Hawaii, +had found Acton's admiration waiting for her, with all +the other joys of her débutante winter.</p> + +<p>And even the critical Aunt Annie had to admit that +the little minx was managing the whole matter with +consummate skill. Leslie was not in the least self-conscious +with Acton; she turned to him with all the +artless confidence of a little sister. She asked him +about her dancing partners, and about her gowns, and +she discussed with him all the various bits of small +gossip that concerned their own friends.</p> + +<p>"Should I have said that, Acton?" she would ask, +trustfully. "Shall I be Marion's bridesmaid? Would +you?—after I refused Linda Fox, you know. I don't +like to dance with Louis Davis, after what you told +me; what shall I do when he comes up to me?"</p> + +<p>Acton was twenty-five, seven years her senior. He +advised her earnestly, over many a confidential cup +of tea. And just lately, the grandmother noticed +exultantly, hardly a day passed that did not find the +young couple together.</p> + +<p>"How did Acton happen to meet you, lovey?" she +asked to-day, <i>apropos</i> of the walk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +"Why, he telephoned Vesta Higgins's, and asked me +how I was going to get home. I said, walk. There +was no use trying motor-cars, anyway, for they were +slipping and bumping terribly! He said he was in +the neighbourhood, and he came up. Granny——"</p> + +<p>She paused, and her grandmother was conscious of a +quickened heart-beat. The thoughtful almost tremulous +tone was not like giddy little Leslie.</p> + +<p>"Granny," the girl repeated, presently, "how old +was my mother when she got married?"</p> + +<p>"About twenty-two," the old woman said.</p> + +<p>"And how old was Aunt Annie when she did?"</p> + +<p>"Annie's about thirty-seven," her mother considered. +"She was about twenty-five. But why, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Leslie, and fell silent.</p> + +<p>She was still in the silk blouse and short homespun +skirt that she had worn at the athletic club luncheon, +but she had thrown aside her loose woolly coat, and +the narrow furs that were no softer than her own fair +skin. Flung back into a deep chair, and relaxed after +her vigorous day, she looked peculiarly childish and +charming, her grandmother thought. She was like +both her aunts, with Annie's fair, almost ashen hair +and Alice's full, pretty mouth. But she was more +squarely built than either, and a hint of a tip, at the +end of her nose, gave her an expression at once infantile +and astonished. When Leslie opened her blue eyes +widely, and stared at anything, she looked like an +amazed baby, and the effect of her round eyes and +tilted nose was augmented by her very fair skin, and +by just a sixteenth of an inch shortness in her upper +lip. Of course she knew all this. Her acquaintance +with her own good and bad points had begun in school<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +days, and while through her grandmother's care her +teeth were being straightened, and her eyes and throat +subjected to mild forms of surgery, her Aunt Annie +had seen to it that her masses of fair hair had been +burnished and groomed, her hands scraped and polished +into beauty, and finally that her weight was watched +with scrupulous care. Nature had perhaps intended +Leslie to be plump and ruddy, but modern fashion +had decreed otherwise, and, with half the girls of her +own age and set, Leslie took saccharine in her tea, +rarely touched sweets or fried food, and had the supreme +satisfaction of knowing that she was actually +too slim and too willowy for her height, and interestingly +colourless into the bargain.</p> + +<p>Could Acton possibly have said anything definite +to start this unusual train of thought, the grandmother +speculated. With Leslie so felicitously married, she +would have felt ready for her <i>nunc dimittis</i>. She +watched Leslie expectantly. But the girl was apparently +dreaming, and was staring absently at the tip +of one sturdy oxford above which a stretch of thick +white woollen stocking was visible almost to her +knee.</p> + +<p>"How can they fall in love with them, dressed like +Welsh peasants!" the grandmother said to herself, in +mild disapproval. And aloud she said: "Ah, don't, +lovey!"</p> + +<p>For Leslie had taken out a small gold case, and +was regarding it thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"My first to-day, on my honour!" Leslie said, as she +lazily lighted a sweet-scented cigarette. It never +occurred to her to pay any attention to her grandmother's +protest, for Grandmother had been regularly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +protesting against everything Leslie had done since +her adored and despotic childhood. She had fainted +when Leslie had dived off the dock at Newport, and +had wept when Leslie had galloped through the big +iron gates on her own roan stallion; she had called +in Christopher, as Leslie's guardian, when Leslie, at +fifteen, had calmly climbed into one of the big cars, +and driven it seven miles, alone and unadvised, and +totally without instruction or experience. Leslie knew +that this half-scandalized and wholly-admiring opposition +was one of her grandmother's secret satisfactions, +and she combatted it only mechanically.</p> + +<p>"Have one, Grandma?"</p> + +<p>"Have one—you wild girl you! I'd like to know +what a nice young man thinks when a refined girl +offers him——"</p> + +<p>"All the nice young men are smoking themselves, +like chimneys!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that's a very different thing. No, my +dear, no man, whether he smokes himself or not, likes +to have a sweet, womanly girl descend——"</p> + +<p>"Darling, didn't you ever do anything that my +revered great-grandmother Murison disapproved of?" +Leslie teased, dropping on her knees before her grandmother, +and resting her arms on her lap.</p> + +<p>"Smoke——! My mother would have fainted," +said Mrs. Melrose. "And don't blow that nasty-smelling +stuff in my face!"</p> + +<p>But she could not resist the pleasure that the lovely +young face, so near her own, gave her, and she patted +it with her soft, wrinkled hand. Suddenly Leslie +jumped up eagerly, listening to the sound of voices +in the hall.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +"There's Aunt Annie—oh, goody! I wanted to ask +her——"</p> + +<p>But it was Regina who opened the door, showing in +two callers. The first was a splendid-looking woman +of perhaps forty-five, with a rosy, cheerful face, and +wide, shrewd gray eyes shining under a somewhat +shabby mourning veil. With her was a pretty girl of +eighteen, or perhaps a little more.</p> + +<p>Leslie glanced astonished at her grandmother. It +was extremely unusual to have callers shown in in +this unceremonious fashion, even if she had been +rather unprepossessed by these particular callers. The +younger woman's clothing, indeed, if plain, was smart +and simple; her severe tailor-made had a collar of beaver +fur to relieve its dark blue, and her little hat of blue +beaver felt was trimmed only by a band of the same +fur. She had attractive dark-blue eyes and a flashing +smile.</p> + +<p>But her companion's comfortable dowdiness, her +black cotton gloves, her squarely built figure, and worn +shoes, all awakened a certain contempt in the granddaughter +of the house, and caused Leslie shrewdly to +surmise that these humble strangers were pensioners +of her grandmother, the older one probably an old +servant.</p> + +<p>"Kate Sheridan!" Old Mrs. Melrose had gotten +to her feet, and had put her arm about the visitor. +"Well, my dear, my dear, I've not seen you these——What +is it? Don't tell me how many years it is! And +which daughter is this?"</p> + +<p>"This is my niece, Norma," the older woman said, +in a delightful rich voice that was full of easy confidence +and friendliness. "This is Mrs. Melrose, Norma,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +darling, that was such a good friend to me and mine +years ago!"</p> + +<p>"No warmer friend than you were to me, Kate," +the old lady said, quickly, still keeping an arm about +the sturdy figure. "This is my granddaughter, Theodore's +little girl," Mrs. Melrose added, catching Leslie +with her free hand.</p> + +<p>Leslie was not more of a snob than is natural to a +girl of her age and upbringing, but she could not but +give Mrs. Sheridan a pretty cool glance. Grandmother's +old friends were all very well——</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Sheridan was studying her with affectionate +freedom.</p> + +<p>"And isn't she Miss Alice's image! But she's like +you all—she's like Mr. Theodore, too, especially +through the eyes!"</p> + +<p>And she turned back to her hostess, interested, +animated, and as oblivious to Leslie's hostile look as +if the girl were her own picture on the wall.</p> + +<p>"And you and my Norma must know each other," +she said, presently, watching the girls as they shook +hands, with a world of love and solicitude in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, both you two," Mrs. Melrose said. +Leslie glanced at the strapped watch at her wrist.</p> + +<p>"Grandmother, I really——" she began.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't really!" her grandmother smiled. +"Talk to Miss Sheridan while I talk"—she turned +smiling to her old friend—"to Kate! Tell me, how are +you all, Kate? And where are you all—you were in +Detroit?"</p> + +<p>"We've been in New York more than two years +now, and why I haven't been to see you before, perhaps +<i>you</i> can tell me, for <i>I</i> can't!" Kate Sheridan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +said. "But my boy is a great big fellow now; Wolf's +twenty-four, and Rose is twenty-one, and this one," +she nodded toward Norma, who was exchanging comments +on the great storm with Leslie, "this one is +nearly nineteen! And you see they're all working: +Wolf's doing wonderfully with a firm of machine manufacturers, +in Newark, and Rose has been with one real +estate firm since we came. And Norma here works +in a bookstore, up the Avenue a bit, Biretta's."</p> + +<p>"Why, I go in there nearly every week!" the old +lady said.</p> + +<p>"She told me the other night that she had been +selling some books to Mr. Christopher Liggett, and +that's Miss Alice's husband, I hear," said Mrs. Sheridan. +"She's in what they call the Old Book Room," she +added, lowering her voice. "She's wonderful about +books, reads them, and knows them as if they were +children—they think the world of her in there! And +I keep house for the three of them, and what with +this and that—I never have any time!"</p> + +<p>"But you have someone to help you, Kate?" the +old lady asked, with her amused and affectionate eyes +on the other's wholesome face.</p> + +<p>"Why would I?" demanded Mrs. Sheridan, roundly. +"The girls are a great help——"</p> + +<p>"She always assumes a terrific brogue the minute +you ask her why we don't have someone in to help her," +Norma contributed, with a sort of shy and loving +audacity. "She'll tell you in a minute that faith, +she and her sister used to run barefoot over the primroses, +and they blooming beyond anything the Lord ever +created, and the spring on them——"</p> + +<p>Leslie Melrose laughed out suddenly, in delighted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +appreciation, and the tension between the two girls +was over. They had not quite known how to talk to +each other; Norma naturally assuming that Leslie +looked down upon a seller of books, and anxious to show +her that she was unconscious of either envy or inferiority, +and Leslie at a loss because her usual social chatter +was as foreign here as a strange tongue would be. +But no type is quicker to grasp upon amusement, and +to appreciate the amuser, than Leslie's, unable to +amuse itself, and skilled in seeking for entertainment. +She was too shy to ask Norma to imitate her aunt again, +but her stiffness relaxed, and she asked Norma if it +was not great "fun" to sell things—especially at +Christmas, for instance. Norma asked in turn if +Mr. Liggett was not Leslie's uncle, and said that she +had sold him hundreds of beautiful books for his wife, +and had even had a note from Leslie's Aunt Alice, +thanking her for some little courtesy.</p> + +<p>"But isn't that funny!" Leslie said, with her childish +widening of the eyes. "That you should know Chris!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now," said Mrs. Sheridan's voice, cutting +across both conversations, "where can these girls go +for about fifteen minutes? I'll tell you my little bit +of business, Mrs. Melrose, and then Norma and I +will go along. It won't take me fifteen minutes, for +there's nothing to decide to-day," the girls heard +her add, comfortably, as they went into the hall.</p> + +<p>"Leslie!" her grandmother called after her. "If +you must change, dear—but wait a minute, is that +Aunt Annie out there?"</p> + +<p>"No, Grandma, just ourselves. What were you +going to say?"</p> + +<p>"I was going to say, lovey, that you could ask Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +Sheridan to wait in the library; her aunt tells me she is +fond of books." Mrs. Melrose did not quite like to +commit Leslie to entertaining the strange girl for perhaps +half an hour. She was pleasantly reassured by +Leslie's answering voice:</p> + +<p>"We'll have tea in my room, Grandma. Marion +and Doris may come in!"</p> + +<p>"That's right, have a good time!" her grandmother +answered. And then settling back comfortably, she +added with her kind, fussy superiority, "Well, Kate, +I've wondered where you were hiding yourself all +this time! Let's have the business. But first I want +to say that I appreciate your turning to me. If it's +money—I've got it. If it's something else, Chris +Liggett is one of the cleverest men in New York, and +we'll consult him."</p> + +<p>"It's not money, thank God!" Mrs. Sheridan said, +in her forthright voice. "Lord knows where it all +comes from, these days, but the children always have +plenty," she added, glad of a diversion. "They +bought themselves a car two years ago, and if it isn't +a Victrola this week, it's a thermos bottle, or a pair +of white buckskin shoes! Rose told me she paid +eight dollars for her corsets. 'Eight dollars for what,' +I said, 'a dozen?' But then I've the two houses in +Brooklyn, you know——"</p> + +<p>"You still have those?"</p> + +<p>"I have, indeed. And even the baby—we call +Norma the baby—is earning good money now."</p> + +<p>"She has your name, Kate—Sheridan. Had your +husband a brother?"</p> + +<p>Kate Sheridan's face grew a trifle pale. She glanced +at the door to see that it was shut, and at the one to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +adjoining room to make sure that it was closed also. +Then she turned to Mrs. Melrose, and it was an anxious +glance she directed at the older woman.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, there's no hurry about this," she began, +"and you may say that it's all nonsense, and send me +packing—and God knows I hope you will! But it +just began to get on my mind—and I've never been a +great one to worry! I'll begin at the beginning——"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Marion Duer</span> and Doris Alexander duly arrived for +tea with Leslie, and Norma was introduced. They +all sat in Leslie's room, and laughed as they reached +for crumpets, and marvelled at the storm. Norma +found them rather younger than their years, and shyly +anxious to be gracious. On her part she realized with +some surprise that they were not really unapproachable, +and that Leslie was genuinely anxious to take her to +tea with Aunt Alice some day, and have them "talk +books and things." The barriers between such girls +as this one and herself, Norma was honest enough to +admit, were largely of her own imagining. They were +neither so contemptibly helpless nor so scornfully +clever as she had fancied them; they were just laughing +girls, absorbed in thoughts of gowns and admirers and +good times, like her cousin Rose and herself.</p> + +<p>There had been perhaps one chance in one hundred +that she and Leslie Melrose might at once become +friends, but by fortunate accident that chance had +favoured them. Leslie's spontaneous laugh in Mrs. +Melrose's room, her casual mention of tea, her appreciative +little phrases as she introduced to Marion and +Doris the young lady who picked out books for Aunt +Alice, had all helped to crush out the vaguely hostile +impulse Norma Sheridan had toward rich little members +of a society she only knew by hearsay. Norma had +found herself sitting on Leslie's big velvet couch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +laughing and chatting quite naturally, and where +Norma chatted naturally the day was won. She +could be all friendliness, and all sparkle and fun, and +presently Leslie was listening to her in actual fascination.</p> + +<p>The butler announced a motor-car, a maid came up; +Doris and Marion had to go. Leslie and Norma went +into Leslie's dressing-room, and Leslie's maid went +obsequiously to and fro, and the girls talked almost +intimately as they washed their hands and brushed +their hair. Neither cared that the time was passing.</p> + +<p>But the time was passing none the less. Five o'clock +came with a pale and uncertain sunset, and a cold +twilight began to settle over the snowy city. Leslie +and Norma came back to the fire, and were standing +there, a trifle uncertainly, but still talking hard and +fast, when there was an interruption.</p> + +<p>They looked at each other, paling. What was that?</p> + +<p>There was utter silence in the old house. Leslie, with +a frightened look at Norma, ran to the hall door. As +she opened it Mrs. Sheridan opened the door of her +grandmother's room opposite, and called, quite loudly:</p> + +<p>"It's nothing, dear! Get hold of your grandmother's +maid—somebody! She feels a little—but she's quite +all right!"</p> + +<p>Leslie and Norma ran across the hall, and into Mrs. +Melrose's room. By this time Regina had come flying +in, and two of the younger maids, and Joseph had run +upstairs. Leslie had only one glimpse of her grandmother, +leaning against Regina's arm, and drinking from +a glass of water that shook in the maid's hands. Then +Mrs. Sheridan guided both herself and Norma firmly +into the hall, and reassured them cheerfully:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +"The room was very hot, dear, and your grandmother +said that she had gotten tired, walking in the wind. +She's quite all right—you can go in immediately. No; +she didn't faint—she just had a moment of dizziness, +and called out."</p> + +<p>Regina came out, too evidently convinced that she +had to deal with a murderess, and coldly asked that +Mrs. Sheridan would please step back for a minute. +Mrs. Sheridan immediately complied, but it was hardly +more than a minute when she joined the girls again.</p> + +<p>"She wants to see you, dear," she said to Leslie, +whose first frightened tears had dried from bewilderment +and curiosity, "and we must hurry on. Come, +Norma, we'll say good-night!"</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Miss Melrose," Norma said.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," Leslie answered, hesitating over the +name. Her wide babyish smile, the more appealing +because of her wet lashes, made a sudden impression +upon Norma's heart. Leslie hung childishly on the +upstairs balustrade, in the dim wide upper hall, and +watched them go. "I—I almost called you Norma!" +she confessed, mischievously.</p> + +<p>"I wish you had!" Norma called up from below. +She was in great spirits as they went out into the deepening +cold blue of the street, and almost persuaded +her aunt to take the omnibus up the Avenue. But +Mrs. Sheridan protested rather absent-mindedly against +this extravagance. They were close to the subway +and that was quicker.</p> + +<p>Norma could not talk in the packed and swaying +train, and when they emerged at Sixty-fifth Street +they had only one slippery, cold, dark block to walk. +But when they had reached the flat, and snapped on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +lights everywhere, and cast off outer garments, aproned +and busy, in the kitchen, she burst out:</p> + +<p>"What on earth was the matter with that old lady, +Aunt Kate?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose they all eat too much, and sleep too +much, and pamper themselves as if they were babies," +her aunt returned, composedly, "and so it doesn't take +much to upset 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now!" the girl said, stopping with arrested +knife. "That wasn't what made her let out a +yell like that!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sheridan, kneeling at the oven of the gas stove, +laughed uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you could hear that, could you?"</p> + +<p>"Hear it! They heard it in Yonkers."</p> + +<p>"Well," Mrs. Sheridan said, "she has always been +high-strung, that one. I remember years ago she'd be +going into crying and raving fits. She's got very +deep affections, Mrs. Melrose, and when she gets +thinking of Theodore, and of Alice's accident, and this +and that, she'll go right off the handle. She had been +crying, poor soul, and suddenly she began this moaning +and rocking. I told her I'd call someone if she didn't +stop, for she'd go from bad to worse, with me."</p> + +<p>"But why with you, Aunt Kate? Do you know her +so well?"</p> + +<p>"Do I know them?" Mrs. Sheridan dug an opener +into a can of corn with a vigorous hand. "I know +them all!"</p> + +<p>"But how was that?" Norma persisted, now dropping +her peeled potatoes into dancing hot water.</p> + +<p>"I've told you five thousand times, but you and Rose +would likely have one of your giggling fits on, and not a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +word would you remember!" her aunt said. "I've +told you that years ago, when your Uncle Tom died, +and I was left with two babies, and not much money, +a friend of mine, a milliner she was, told me that she +knew a lady that wanted someone to help manage her +affairs—household affairs. Well, I'd often helped your +Uncle Tom with his books, and my mother was with +me, to look out for the children——"</p> + +<p>"Where was I, Aunt Kate?"</p> + +<p>"You! Wolf wasn't but three, and Rose a year +old—where would you be?"</p> + +<p>"I was minus two years," Norma said, sententiously. +"I was part of the cosmic all——"</p> + +<p>"You be very careful how you talk about such things +until you're a married woman!" her aunt said. "Salt +those potatoes, darling. Norma, can you remember +what I did with the corn that Rose liked so?"</p> + +<p>Norma was attentive.</p> + +<p>"You beat it up with eggs, and it came out a sort of +puff," she recalled. "I know—you put a little cornstarch +in, to give it body! Listen, Aunt Kate, how +long did you stay with Mrs. Melrose?"</p> + +<p>"Well, first I just watched her help for her, and paid +the bills, and went to market. And then I got gradually +managing more and more; I'd go to pay her interest, +or deposit money, or talk to tenants; I liked it and +she liked me. And then she talked me into going to +France with her, but I cried all the way for my children, +and I was glad enough to come home again! She and +Miss Annie spent some time over there, but I came back. +Miss Alice was in school, and Theodore—dear knows +where he was—into some mischief somewhere! But +I'd saved money, and she'd given me the Brooklyn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +houses, and I took a boarder or two, and that was the +last I ever worked for any one but my own!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's a nice girl, that Leslie," Norma said, +"if her father <i>was</i> wild!"</p> + +<p>"Her mother was a good girl," Kate said, "I knew +her. But the old lady was proud, Baby—God save +any one of us from pride like that! You'd never know +it, to see her now, but she was very proud. Theodore's +wife was a good girl, but she was Miss Annie's maid, +and what Mrs. Melrose never could forgive was that +when she ordered the girl out of the house, she showed +her her wedding certificate. She was Mrs. Theodore +Melrose, fast enough—though his mother never would +see her or acknowledge her in any way."</p> + +<p>"They must think the Lord has made a special arrangement +for them—people like that!" Norma commented, +turning a lovely flushed face from the pan +where she was dexterously crisping bacon. "What +business is it of hers if her son marries a working girl? +That gives me a feeling akin to pain—just because she +happens to have a lot of money! What does Miss +Leslie Melrose think of that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what she thinks—she loves her +grandmother, I suppose. Mrs. Melrose took her in +when she was only a tiny girl, and she's been the apple +of her eye ever since. Theodore and his wife were +divorced, and when Leslie was about four or five he +came back to his mother to die—poor fellow! It was +a terrible sorrow to the old lady—she'd had her share, +one way and another! My goodness, Norma," Mrs. +Sheridan interrupted herself to say, in half-reproachful +appreciation, "I wish you'd always help me like this, +my dear! You can be as useful as ten girls, when you've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +a mind to! And then perhaps to-morrow you'll be as +contrary——!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Kate, aren't you ashamed! When I +ironed all your dish-towels last night, when you were +setting bread, and I made the popovers Sunday!" +Norma kissed her aunt, brushed a dab of cornstarch +from the older woman's firm cheek, and performed a +sort of erratic dance about the protestant and solid +figure. "I'm a poor working girl," she said, "and I +get dragged out with my long, hard day!"</p> + +<p>"Well, God knows that's true, too," her aunt said, +with a sudden look of compunction; "you may make a +joke of it, but it's no life for a girl. My dear," she +added, seriously, holding Norma with a firm arm, and +looking into her eyes, "I hope I did no harm by what +I did to-day! I did it for the best, whatever comes of +it."</p> + +<p>"You mean stirring up the whole thing?" Norma +asked, frowning a little in curiosity and bewilderment. +"Going to see her?"</p> + +<p>"That—yes." Mrs. Sheridan rubbed her forehead +with her hand, a fashion she had when puzzled or +troubled, and suddenly resumed, with a great rattling +of pans and hissing of water, her operations at the sink. +"Well, nothing may come of it—we'll see!" she added, +briskly. Norma, who was watching her expectantly, +sighed disappointedly; the subject was too evidently +closed. But a second later she was happily distracted +by the slamming of the front door; Wolf and Rose +Sheridan had come in together, and dinner was immediately +served.</p> + +<p>Norma recounted, with her own spirited embellishments, +her adventures of the afternoon as the meal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +progressed. She had had "fun" getting to the office +in the first place, a man had helped her, and they had +both skidded into another man, and bing!—they had +all gone down on the ice together. And then at the +shop nobody had come in, and the lights had been +lighted, and the clerks had all gathered together and +talked. Then Aunt Kate had come in to have lunch, +and to have Norma go with her to the gas company's +office about the disputed charge, and they had decided +to make, at last, that long-planned call on the Melroses. +There followed a description of the big house and the +spoiled, pretty girl, and the impressive yet friendly +old lady.</p> + +<p>"And Aunt Kate—I'm sorry to say!—talked her into +a nervous convulsion. You did, Aunt Kate—the +poor old lady gave one piercing yell——"</p> + +<p>"You awful girl, there'll be a judgment on you for +your impudence!" her aunt said, fondly. But Rose +looked solicitously at her mother, and said:</p> + +<p>"Mother looks as if she had had a nervous convulsion, +too. You look terribly tired, Mother!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I had a little business to discuss with Mrs. +Melrose," Mrs. Sheridan said, "and I'm no hand for +business!"</p> + +<p>"You know it!" Wolf Sheridan concurred, with his +ready laugh. "Why didn't you send me?"</p> + +<p>"It was her business, lovey," his mother said, mildly, +over her second heartening cup of strong black tea.</p> + +<p>The Sheridan apartment was, in exterior at least, +exactly like one hundred thousand others that line +the side streets of New York. It faced the familiar +grimy street, fringed on the great arteries each side +by cigarette stands and saloons, and it was entered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +by the usual flight of stained and shabby steps, its +doorway showing a set of some dozen letter-boxes, +and looking down upon a basement entrance frequently +embellished with ash-cans and milk-bottles, and, just +at present, with banks of soiled and sooty snow. The +Sheridans climbed three long flights inside, to their +own rooms, but as this gained them a glimpse of river, +and a sense in summer of airiness and height, to say +nothing of pleasant nearness to the roof, they rarely +complained of the stairs—in fact, rarely thought of +them at all.</p> + +<p>With the opening of their own door, however, all +likeness to their neighbours ceased. Even in a class +where home ties and home comforts are far more common +than is generally suspected, Kate Sheridan was +exceptional, and her young persons fortunate among +their kind. Her training had been, she used to tell +them, "old country" training, but it was not only in +fresh linen and hot, good food that their advantage lay. +It was in the great heart that held family love a divine +gift, that had stood between them and life's cold +realities for some twenty courageous years. Kate +idolized her own two children and her foster-child +with a passion that is the purest and the strongest in +the world. In possessing them, she thought herself +the most blessed of women. To keep a roof over their +heads, to watch them progress triumphantly through +long division and measles and skates, to see milk glasses +emptied and plates scraped, to realize that Wolf was +as strong morally as he was physically, and that all +her teachers called Rose an angel, to spoil and adore +the beautiful, mischievous, and amusing "Baby"; +this made a life full to the brim, for Kate, of pride and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +happiness. Kate had never had a servant, or a fur +coat; for long intervals she had not had a night's +unbroken rest; and there had been times, when Wolf's +fractured arm necessitated a doctor's bill, or when coal +for the little Detroit house had made a disproportionate +hole in her bank account, in which even the thrifty +Kate had known biting financial worry.</p> + +<p>But the children never knew it. They knew only +her law of service and love. They must love each +other, whatever happened. There was no quarrelling +at meals at Kate's house. Rose must of course oblige +her brother, sew on the button, or take his book to +the library; Wolf must always protect the girls, and +consider them. Wolf firmly believed his sister and +cousin to be the sweetest girls in the world; Rose and +Norma regarded Wolf as perfection in human form. +They rarely met without embraces, never without +brightening eyes and light hearts.</p> + +<p>That this attitude toward each other was only the +result of the healthy bodies and honest souls that Kate +had given them they would hardly have believed. +That her resolute training had literally forced them +to love and depend upon themselves in a world where +brothers and sisters as habitually teased and annoyed +each other, would have struck them as fantastic. +Perhaps Kate herself hardly knew the power of her +own will upon them. Her commands in their babyhood +had not been couched in the language of modern +child-analysts, nor had she given, or been able to give, +any particular reason for her law. But the instinct +by which she drew Wolf's attention to his sister's +goodness, or noted Wolf's cleverness for Rose's +benefit, was better than any reason. She summed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +situation up simply for the few friends she had, with +the phrase:</p> + +<p>"They're all crazy about each other, every one of +them!"</p> + +<p>Kate's parlour would have caused Annie von Behrens +actual faintness. But it was a delightful place to Rose +and Wolf and their friends. The cushioned divan +on Sunday nights customarily held a row of them, +the upright ebony piano sifted popular music impartially +upon the taboret, the patent rocker, and the +Rover rug. They laughed, gossiped, munched candy, +and experimented in love-making quite as happily +as did Leslie and her own intimates. They streamed +out into the streets, and sauntered along under the +lights to the moving pictures, or on hot summer nights +they perched like tiers of birds on the steps, and the +world and youth seemed sweet to them. In Kate's +dining-room, finished in black wood and red paper, +they made Welsh rarebits and fudge, and in Kate's +spotless kitchen odours of toast and coffee rose at unseemly +hours.</p> + +<p>Lately, Rose and Norma had been talking of changes. +Rose was employed in an office whose severe and beautiful +interior decoration had cost thousands of dollars, +and Norma's Old Book Room was a study in dull +carved woods, Oriental rugs, dull bronzes, and flawless +glass. The girls began to feel that a plain cartridge +paper and net curtains might well replace the parlour's +florid green scrolling and Nottingham lace. But they +did not worry about it; it served as a topic to amuse +their leisure hours. The subject was generally routed +by a shrewd allusion, from Norma or Wolf, to the sort +of parlour people would like if they got married, married<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +to someone who was doing very well in the shoe business, +for example.</p> + +<p>These allusions deepened the colour in Rose's happy +face; she had been "going" for some three months with +an attractive young man who exactly met these specifications—not +her first admirer, not noticeable for any +especial quality, yet Rose and Norma, and Kate, too, +felt in their souls that Rose's hour had come. Young +Harry Redding was a big, broad, rather inarticulate +fellow, whose humble calling was not the more attractive +to the average young woman because he supported +his mother by it. But he suited Rose, more, he seemed +wonderful to Rose, and because her dreams had always +been humble and self-sacrificing, Harry was a thousand +times more than she had dreamed. She felt herself +the luckiest girl in the world.</p> + +<p>Kate sat at the head of her table, and Wolf at the +foot. Rose, a gentle, quiet copy of her handsome +mother, was nearest the kitchen door, to which she made +constant flying trips. Norma was opposite Rose, and +by falling back heavily could tip her entire chair against +the sideboard, from which she extracted forks or salt or +candy, as the case might be. The telephone was in the +dining-room, Wolf's especial responsibility, and Mrs. +Sheridan herself occasionally left the table for calls +to the front door or the dumb-waiter.</p> + +<p>To-night, after supper, the girls flew through their +share of clearing-up. It never weighed very heavily +upon them; they usually began the process of piling +and scraping dishes before they left the table, Rose +whisking the tablecloth into its drawer as Norma +bumped through the swinging door with the last dishes, +and Kate halfway through the washing even then.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +Chattering and busy, they hustled the hot plates onto +their shelves, rattled the hot plated ware into its +basket, clanked saucepans, and splashed water. Not +fifteen minutes after the serving of the dessert the last +signs of the meal had been obliterated, and Kate was +guilty of what the girls called "making excuses" to +linger in the kitchen. She was mixing cereal, storing +cold potatoes and cut bread, soaking dish-towels. But +these things did not belong to the duties of Norma +and Rose, and the younger girl could flash with a free +conscience to the little room she shared with Rose. +Wolf had called out for a companion, they were going +to take a walk and see what the blizzard had done!</p> + +<p>Norma washed her face, the velvety skin emerging +with its bloom untouched, the lips crimson, the blue +eyes blazing. She pressed a great wave of silky dark +hair across her white forehead, and put the fur-trimmed +hat at a dashing angle. The lace blouse, the pearl +beads, her fur-collared coat again, and Norma was +ready to dance out beside Wolf as if fatigue and labours +did not exist.</p> + +<p>"Where's Rose?" he said, as they went downstairs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Wolf—Saturday night! Harry's coming, of +course!" Norma slipped her little hand, in its shabby +glove, through his big arm. "She and Aunt Kate were +gossiping!"</p> + +<p>"Suits me!" Wolf said, contentedly. He held her +firmly on the slippery lumps of packed snow. The +sidewalks were almost impassable, yet hundreds of +other happy persons were stumbling and scrambling +over them in the mild winter darkness. Stars were +out; and whether Norma was blinking up at them, or +staring into lighted windows of candy stores and fruit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +markets, her own eyes danced and twinkled. The +elevated trains thundered above their heads, and the +subway roared under their feet; great advertising +signs, with thousands of coloured lights, fanned up and +down in a haze of pink and blue; the air was full of +voices, laughing and shouting, and the screaming of +coasting children.</p> + +<p>"I have my pearls on," Norma told her companion. +They stopped for some molasses peppermints, and +their pungent odour mingled for Norma in the impression +of this happy hour. "Wolf, how do they do that?" +the girl asked, watching an electric sign on which a +maid mopped a dirty floor with some prepared cleaner, +leaving the floor clean after her mop. Wolf, interested, +explained, and Norma listened. They stopped at a +drug store, and studied a picture that subtly altered +from Roosevelt's face to Lincoln's, and thence to +Wilson's face, and Wolf explained that, too. Norma +knew that he understood everything of that nature, +but she liked to impress him, too, and did so far more +often than she realized, with her book-lore. When +Norma spoke lightly of a full calf edition de luxe of +the Sonnets from the Portuguese, she might almost +have been speaking in that language for all she conveyed +to Wolf, but he watched the animated face +proudly just the same. Rose had always been good and +steady and thoughtful, but Wolf knew that Norma was +clever, taking his big-brotherly patronage with admiring +awe, but daring where he hesitated, and boldly +at home where he was ill at ease. When she said that +when she got married she wanted Dedham china, +and just a plain, glass bowl for goldfish, Wolf nodded, +but he would have nodded just as placidly if she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +wanted a Turkish corner and bead portières. And +to-night when she asserted that she wouldn't be Leslie +Melrose for anything in the world, Wolf asked in +simple wonderment why she should be.</p> + +<p>"Imagine, a maid came to take those big girls home, +Wolf! They can speak French," Norma confided. +Wolf did not look for coherence from her, and took +the two statements on their face value. "Now, I +know I'm not pretty," she continued, following, as was +usual with her, some obscure line of thought, "but +I'm prettier than Doris Alexander, and she had her +picture in the paper!"</p> + +<p>"Who broke it to you that you're not pretty?" Wolf +asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>know</i> I'm not!" Norma jumped along at his +side for a few minutes, eyeing him expectantly, but +Wolf's mind was honestly busy with this assertion, +and he did not speak. Wasn't she pretty? Girls +had funny standards. "You know," she resumed, +"you'd hate a girl like Leslie Melrose, Wolf!"</p> + +<p>"Would I?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'd loathe her. But I'll tell you who you +<i>would</i> like," Norma added, in a sudden burst. "You'd +love Mr. Liggett!"</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" Wolf asked, in some surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, because he's nice—he's very good-looking, and +he has such a pleasant voice, as if he knew everything, +but wasn't a bit conceited!" Norma said. "And he +picks out books for his wife, and when I try to tell +him something about them, he always knows lots +more. You know, in a pleasant, careless sort of way, +not a bit as if he was showing off. And I'll tell you +what he did. Miss Drake was showing him a pottery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +bowl one day, and she dropped it, and she told me he +sort of caught at it with his hand, and he said to Mr. +Biretta, 'I've very stupidly broken this—just put it on +my bill, will you?' Of course," Norma added, vivaciously, +"old B. G. immediately said that it was nothing +at all, but <i>you know</i> what Miss Drake would have +caught, if <i>she'd</i> broken it!"</p> + +<p>Perhaps Wolf did, but he was thinking at the moment +that the family baby was very cunning, with her bright +eyes and indignant mouth. He stopped her before a +vaudeville house, in a flare of bright light.</p> + +<p>"Want to go in?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Wolf! Would Aunt Kate care? Oh, Wolf, +<i>let's</i>!"</p> + +<p>There was absolute ecstasy in her eyes as they went +through the enchanted doorway and up the rising +empty foyer toward the house. It was nine o'clock; +the performance was fairly under way. Norma rustled +into a seat beside her companion without moving her +eyes from the coloured comedian on the stage; she +could remove hat and gloves and jacket without losing +an instant of him.</p> + +<p>When the lights went up Wolf approved the dark +hair and the pearls, and bent toward her to hear the +unending confidences. Norma thought she had never +seen anything better, and even Wolf admitted that +it was a good show. They finished the peppermints, +and were very happy.</p> + +<p>They had seen the big film, and so could cut the last +third of the programme, and reach home at ten o'clock. +There was no comment from Aunt Kate, who was +yawning over the evening paper in the dining-room. +Rose and Harry were murmuring in the dimly lighted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +parlour. Wolf, who was of the slow-thinking, intense +type that discovers a new world every time it reads a +new book, was halfway through a shabby library copy +of "War and Peace," and went off to his room with the +second volume under his arm. Norma went to her +room, too, but she sat dreaming before the mirror, +thinking of that Melrose house, and of Leslie's friendliness, +until Rose came in at eleven o'clock.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">At almost</span> this same moment Norma's self was the +subject of a rather unusual talk between Christopher +Liggett and his wife.</p> + +<p>Christopher had come softly into his house, at about +half-past ten, to find Alice awake, still on the big couch +before her fire. Her little bedroom beyond was softly +lighted, the white bed turned down, and the religious +books she always read before going to sleep laid in +place by Miss Slater. But Alice had no light except +her fire and two or three candles in old sconces.</p> + +<p>She welcomed Christopher with a smile, and he sat +down, in his somewhat rumpled evening dress, and +smiled back at her in a rather weary fashion. He +often told her that these rooms of hers were a sanctuary, +that he tested the men and women he met daily in +the world by her fine and lofty standard. It was +part of his utter generosity to her that he talked to her +as frankly as if he thought aloud, and it was Alice's +pride and joy to know that this marriage of theirs, +which had so sadly and suddenly become no marriage +at all, was not as one-sided as the world might have +suspected. Her clear, dispassionate viewpoint and +her dignified companionship were not wifehood, but +they were dear and valuable to him none the less, a +part of his life that he would not have spared. And +he could still admire her, too, not only for the exquisite +clearness of her intellect, her French and Italian, her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +knowledge of countries and affairs, but physically—the +clear, childish forehead that was as unwrinkled +as Leslie's, the fair, beautifully brushed hair, the mouth +with its chiselling of wisdom and of pain, and the transparent +hand from which she shook back transparent +laces. She was always proud, always fresh and +fragrant, always free for him and for his problems, and +it was proverbial in the circle of their intimates that +Chris admired Alice with all his heart, and never felt +himself anything but the privileged guardian of a +treasure.</p> + +<p>To-night he dropped into a chair before her fire, and +she watched him for five or six restful minutes in silence.</p> + +<p>"Stupid dinner?" she ventured.</p> + +<p>"Rotten!" he answered, cheerfully. "I was late, +but I got in to hear Hendrick's speech. The Vice-President +was there, everyone else I knew. I cut away +finally; I'm done up."</p> + +<p>"I thought you picked up Hendrick on your way and +went together," Mrs. Liggett said, sympathetically. +"I'm sorry it was dull—I suppose men have to go to +these political things!"</p> + +<p>Chris was leaning forward, his locked hands dropped +between his knees, and his eyes on the fire.</p> + +<p>"Hendrick and I stopped at your mother's," he said, +deliberately, "and she was so upset that I sent Hendrick +on alone!"</p> + +<p>Alice's eyes lighted apprehensively, but she spoke +very quietly.</p> + +<p>"What was it, Chris? Leslie getting saucy?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no! It was a complication of things, I +imagine!" Christopher took out his cigarette-case, +looked at its moiré surface reflectively, and selected a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +smoke. "She was tired—she'd been out in the snow—Leslie +had gone off with Annie to some débutante +affair—I daresay she felt blue. Alice, do you remember +a woman named Kate Sheridan?"</p> + +<p>The question was sudden, and Alice blinked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," she answered, after a moment's thought, +"she was a sort of maid or travelling companion of +Mama's. We called her Mrs. Sheridan—she was quite +a superior sort of person."</p> + +<p>"What do you remember about her, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Well—just that. She came when I was only a +child—and then when Annie was ill in Paris she went +abroad with Mama—and I remember that she came +back, and she used to come see me at school, for Mama, +and once she took me up to Grandma's, in Brookline. +She was a widow, and she had a child—or two, maybe. +Why, Chris?"</p> + +<p>Her husband did not answer, and she repeated the +question.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, at last, flinging the end of his +cigarette into the fire, "she came to see your mother +to-day."</p> + +<p>Alice waited, a little at a loss. To her this had no +particular significance.</p> + +<p>"She had her niece with her, young girl about eighteen," +Christopher said.</p> + +<p>"Well—what <i>of</i> it?" Alice demanded, with a sort of +superb indifference to anything such a woman might do.</p> + +<p>He looked at her through his round eyeglasses, with +the slight frown that many of life's problems brought +to his handsome face. Then the glass fell, on its black +ribbon, and he laughed.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I don't <i>get</i>," he said, good-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>humouredly. +"But I'll tell you exactly what occurred. +What's-His-Name, your mother's butler——"</p> + +<p>"Joseph."</p> + +<p>"Joseph. Joseph told me that at about four o'clock +this Mrs. Sheridan came in. Your mother had told +him that she was expecting the lady, and that he was +to bring her upstairs. With her came this girl—I can't +remember her name—but it was something Sheridan—Nora +Sheridan, maybe. Leslie carried the girl off for +tea, and the woman stayed with your mother.</p> + +<p>"Well, at five—or later, this Mrs. Sheridan ran +into the hall, and it seems—she's all right now!—it +seems that your mother had fainted."</p> + +<p>"Mama!" Alice said, anxiously, with an incredulous +frown.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but don't worry. She's absolutely all right +now. Leslie," Christopher went back to his narrative, +"Leslie cried, and I suppose there was a scene. +Mrs. Sheridan and the girl went home—Leslie dressed +and went out—and your mother immediately telephoned +Lee——"</p> + +<p>"Judge Lee?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—she said so. Lee's up in Westchester with his +daughter, she couldn't get him——"</p> + +<p>"But, Chris, why did she want her lawyer?"</p> + +<p>"That's just it—<i>why?</i> Well, then she telephoned +here for me—I was on my way there, as it happened, +and just before eight Hendrick and I went in. I could +see she was altogether up stage, so I sent Von on and +had it out with her."</p> + +<p>"And what was her explanation, Chris?"</p> + +<p>Christopher laughed again.</p> + +<p>"I'll be darned," he said, thoughtfully, "if I can make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +head or tail of it! It would be funny if it wasn't that +she's taking it so hard. She was in bed, and she had +been crying—wouldn't eat any dinner——"</p> + +<p>"But, Chris," Alice said, worriedly, "what do you +<i>make</i> of it! What did she <i>say</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she clasped my hand, and she said that she +had an opportunity to undo a great wrong—and that +I must help her—and not ask any questions—she +was just acting as you and I would have her act under +the circumstances——"</p> + +<p>"What circumstances?" Alice said, at an utter loss, +as he paused.</p> + +<p>"She didn't say," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, now, Chris, she must have said more +than that!"</p> + +<p>"No, she didn't. She said that she must make it +up to this girl, and she wished to see Lee about it +immediately."</p> + +<p>"To change her will!" Alice exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"She didn't say so. Of course, it may be some sort +of blackmail." Christopher looked whimsically at +his wife. "As I remember my father-in-law," he said, +"it seems to me improbable that out of the past could +come this engaging young girl—very pretty, they +said——"</p> + +<p>"Father! Oh, nonsense!" Alice exclaimed, almost +in relief at the absurdity. "No, but it might be some +business—some claim against the firm," she suggested.</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought of that. But there are one or two +reasons why it doesn't seem the solution. I asked +your mother if it was money, and she said no, said it +positively and repeatedly. Then I asked her if she +would like this Sheridan woman shut up, and she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +was quite indignant. Kate!—Kate was one of the +most magnificent women God had ever made, and so +on!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I do remember Mrs. Sheridan as a lovely +sort of person," Alice contributed. "Plain, you know, +but quite wonderful for—well, <i>goodness</i>. It's funny—but +then you know Mama is terribly excitable," she +added, "she gets frightfully worked up over nothing, +or almost nothing. It's quite possible that when Kate +recalled old times to her she suddenly wished that she +had done more for Kate—something like that. She'd +think nothing of sending for Judge Lee on the spot. +You remember her recalling us from our wedding-trip +because she couldn't find the pearls? All the way +from Lake Louise to hear that they had been lost!"</p> + +<p>"I know," Christopher smiled. "She is—unique, +<i>ma belle mère</i>. By George, I'll never forget our rushing +into the house like maniacs, not knowing what had +happened to Leslie or Acton, and having her fall +sobbing into your arms, with the pearls in her hands!"</p> + +<p>"Mama's wonderful," Alice laughed. "Chris, did +you eat any dinner?"</p> + +<p>He considered.</p> + +<p>"But I'm really not hungry, dear," he protested.</p> + +<p>Alice, superbly incredulous, rang at once. Who was +in the kitchen? Well, she was to be asked to send up a +tray at once to Mr. Liggett. "Now that you asked +me, the dinner had reached the point of ice-cream in +a paper tub, as I sat down," he remembered. "You're +a little miracle of healing to me, Alice. When I came +in here I didn't know <i>what</i> we were up against, as a +family. Your mother wished the girl pensioned——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris, not really?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +"I give you my word!" But he was enough his usual +self to have taken his seat at the piano, now, and was +looking at her across it, while his fingers fitted themselves +lazily to chords and harmonics.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you something, if you'll promise to stop +playing the instant your supper comes up!"</p> + +<p>"I'll promise!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then—the new Puccini is there!" She +nodded toward the music-shelves, and he turned to +the new score with an eager exclamation. Fifteen +minutes later she had to scold him to bring him to the +fire again, and to the smoking little supper. While +Alice sipped ginger ale, Christopher fell upon his meal, +and they discussed the probable presentation of the +opera, and its quality.</p> + +<p>But an hour later, when she was in bed, and Christopher +was going back to the piano for another half-hour +of music, she caught his hand.</p> + +<p>"Chris, you're not worried about this Sheridan +matter?"</p> + +<p>"Worried? No, dearest child, what is there to +worry about? It isn't blackmail, apparently it's nothing +but an overdose of imagination on your mother's +part. If the girl really was promised something, or +has—for example!—old stock, or if her father was an +employee who did this or that or the other—Mrs. +Sheridan's husband was employed by your father at +the time of his death, by the way—why, it's easy +enough to pay the claim, whatever it is! The girl +seems to have made a nice impression—your mother +tells me she's sold me books, but that doesn't mean +much, I buy books everywhere! No, I don't think +you'll ever hear of her again. But your mother will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +be here in a day or two; see what you can make of it +all!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, it's nothing <i>wrong</i>!" Alice said, confidently.</p> + +<p>And Christopher returned to his beloved piano, +relieved in mind by his wife's counsel, refreshed in +body by the impromptu supper, and ready for the +music that soothed in him all the restless and unsatisfied +fibres of his soul.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Annie</span>, who signed herself "Anne Melrose von +Behrens," was the real dictator in the various circles +of the allied families, and had a fashion of finding +herself supreme in larger circles, as well. Annie was +thirty-seven or eight, tall, thin, ash-blonde, superb in +manner and bearing. Nature had been generous to +her, but she had done far more for herself than Nature +had. Her matchless skin, her figure, her hands, her +voice, were all the result of painstaking and intelligent +care. Annie had been a headstrong, undisciplined +girl twenty years ago. She had come back from a +European visit, at twenty-three, with a vague if +general reputation of being "a terror." But Annie +was clever, and she had real charm. She spoke familiarly +of European courts, had been presented even in +inaccessible Vienna. She spoke languages, quoted +poets, had great writers and painters for her friends, +and rippled through songs that had been indisputably +dedicated, in flowing foreign hands, to the beautiful +Mademoiselle Melrose. Society bowed before Annie; +she was the sensation of her winter, and the marriage +she promptly made was the most brilliant in many +winters.</p> + +<p>Annie proceeded to bear her sober, fine, dull, and +devoted Hendrick two splendid sons, and thus riveted +to herself his lasting devotion and trust. The old +name was safe, the millions would descend duly to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +young Hendrick and Piet. The family had been rich, +conspicuous, and respected in the city, since its sturdy +Holstein cattle had browsed along the fields of lower +Broadway, but under Annie's hands it began to shine. +Annie's handsome motor-cars bore the family arms, +her china had been made in the ancestral village, two +miles from Rotterdam, and also carried the shield. +Her city home, in Fifth Avenue, was so magnificent, +so chastely restrained and sober, so sternly dignified, +that it set the cue for half the other homes of the ultra-aristocratic +set. Annie's servants had been in the +Von Behrens family for years; there was nothing in the +Avenue house, or the Newport summer home, that was +not as handsome, as old, as solid, as carven, as richly dull, +or as purely shining, as human ingenuity could contrive +to have it. Collectors saved their choicest discoveries +for Annie; and there was no painter in the new world +who would not have been proud to have Annie place a +canvas of his among her treasures from the old.</p> + +<p>If family relics were worth preserving, what could +be more remarkable than Annie's Washington letter, +her Jefferson tray, her Gainsboroughs of the Murisons +who had been the only Americans so honoured by the +painter? Melrose and Von Behrens honours crowded +each other—here was the thin old silver "shepherdess" +cup awarded that Johanna von Behrens who had won a +prize with her sheep, while Washington was yet a boy; +and here the quaint tortoise-shell snuff-box that a +great prince, homeless and unknown, had given the +American family that took him in; and the silver +buttons from Lafayette's waistcoat that the great +Frenchman had presented Colonel Horace Murison +of the "Continentals."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +These things were not thrust at the visitor, nor indeed +were they conspicuous among the thousand other +priceless souvenirs that Annie had gathered about +her.</p> + +<p>"Rather nice, isn't it?" Annie would say, abstractedly, +when some enthusiastic girl pored over the colonial +letters or the old portraits. "See here, Margaret," +she might add, casually, "do you see the inside of this +little slipper, my dear? Read what's written there: +'In these slippers Deborah Murison danced with Governor +Winthrop, on the night of her fifteenth birthday, +July 1st, 1742.' Isn't that rather quaint?"</p> + +<p>Annie could afford to be casual, to be abstracted. +In her all the pride of the Melrose and Murison families +was gathered; hers was an arrogance so sure of itself, +a self-confidence so supreme, that the world questioned +it no more than it questioned the heat of the sun. The +old silver, the Copleys, and the colonial china, the +Knickerbocker "court chests" with their great locks +of Dutch silver, and the laces that had been shown at +the Hague two hundred years before, were all confirmed, +all reinforced, as it were, by the power and prosperity +of to-day. It was no by-gone glory that made brilliant +the lives of Hendrick and Anne Melrose von Behrens. +Hendrick's cousins and uncles, magnificent persons of +title, were prominent in Holland to-day, their names +associated with that of royalty, and their gracious +friendship extended to the American branch of the +family whenever Hendrick chose to claim it. Old +maps of New York bore the boundary lines of the +Von Behrens farm; early histories of the city mingled +the names of Melrose and Von Behrens among those of +the men who had served the public need.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +Wherever there was needed that tone that only +names of prominence and wealth can bestow Annie's +name was solicited. Wherever it appeared it gave +the instant stamp of dignity and integrity. She had +seen this goal dimly in the distance, when she stepped +from her rather spoiled and wilful girlhood into this +splendid wifehood, but even Annie was astonished +at the rapidity with which it had come about. +Mama, of course, had known all the right people, even +if she <i>had</i> dropped all social ties after Papa's death. +And Hendrick's name was an open sesame. But even +so it was surprising, and it was gratifying.</p> + +<p>In appearance Annie had no problem. If she was not +a beauty she was near enough to being one. She was +smart enough, and blonde enough, and splendidly +dressed enough to be instantly identifiable, and that +was all she desired. Financially, Annie had no problem. +Her own inheritance and her husband's great +wealth silenced all question there. The Murison +pearls and the famous diamond tiara that her father +had given her mother years ago had come to Annie, +but they were eclipsed by the Von Behrens family +jewels, and these were all hers, with the laces, and the +ivories, and the brocades. Life could give nothing +more to Annie, but not many women would have made +so much of what Annie had. There was, far down and +out of sight, a little streak of the adventuress in her, +and she never stopped halfway.</p> + +<p>A young wife, Annie had dutifully considered her +nursery.</p> + +<p>"Hendrick's is the elder line, of course, although it is +the colonial one," Annie had said, superintending a +princely layette. The child was a son, his father's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +image, and nobody who knew Annie was in the least +surprised that fortune had fallen in with her plans. +It was the magnificent Annie who was quoted as telling +Madame Modiste to give her a fitter who would not talk; +it was Annie who decided what should be done in +recognizing the principals of the Jacqmain divorce, +and that old Floyd Densmore's actress-wife should +not be accepted. Annie's neat and quiet answer to a +certain social acquaintance who remarked, in Annie's +little gallery, "I have seen the original of that picture, +in one of the European galleries," was still quoted by +Annie's friends. "This <i>is</i> the original!" Annie had +said quite simply and truthfully.</p> + +<p>Leslie admired her aunt more than any one else in the +world. Grandma was old-fashioned, and Aunt Alice insignificant, +in Leslie's eyes, but stunning, arrogant, fearless +Aunt Annie was the model upon which she would +have based herself if she had known how. Annie's quick +positiveness with her servants, her cool friendliness with +big men, and clever men, her calm assurance as to which +hats she liked, and which hats she didn't, her utter +belief in everything that was of Melrose or von Behrens, +and her calm contempt for everything that was not, +were masterly in Leslie's eyes.</p> + +<p>Annie might have been a strong royalist had she +been born a few generations earlier. But in Annie's +day the ideal of social service had been laid down by +fashion, and she was consequently a tremendously +independent and energetic person, with small time for +languishing airs. She headed committees and boards, +knew hundreds of working girls by name, kept a +secretary and a stenographer, and mentioned topics at +big dinners that would not have shocked either old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +Goodwife Melrose of Boston, or Vrouw von Behrens of +Nieu Amsterdam, for neither had the faintest idea +that such things, or their names, existed.</p> + +<p>Withal, Annie was attractive, even her little affectations +were impressive, and as she went about from +luncheons to meetings, swept up to her model nursery +to revel in her model boys, tossed aside regal furs and +tore off princely rings the better to play with them, +wrapped her beautiful figure in satins and jewels to +descend to formal dinners, she was almost as much +admired and envied and copied as she might fondly +have hoped to be. She managed her life on modern +lines of efficiency, planned ahead what she wished, +tutored herself not to think of anything undesirable +as being even in the range of possibility, trod lightly +upon the sensitive souls of others, and asked no quarter +herself, aimed high, and enjoyed her life and its countless +successes to the full.</p> + +<p>Of course there had been setbacks. Her brother +Theodore, his most unfortunate marriage to a servant, +his intemperance, the general scandal of his mother's +violent detestation of his wife, all this was most unpleasant. +But Louison, the wife, upon sufficient pressure, +had brought her child to the Melroses, and had +doubtfully disappeared, and Theodore had returned +from his wanderings to live, silent and unobtrusive, +in his mother's home, for several years, and to die +with his daughter beside him, and be duly laid in the +Melrose plot at Woodlawn. And Leslie—Leslie had +repaid them all, for all of it.</p> + +<p>Alice was another disappointment, or had been one, +to Annie. For Alice, after having achieved a most +unexpectedly satisfactory marriage, and having set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +up her household gods in the very shadow of her sister's +brilliant example, as it were, had met with that most +unfortunate accident. For a few years Annie had been +utterly exasperated whenever she thought of it. For +Christopher was really an extraordinary husband for +Alice to hold, even in normal circumstances. He was +so outrageously, frightfully, irresistibly popular with +women everywhere, his wife must needs keep a very +sharp, albeit loving, eye upon him. A sickly wife—a +wife who was a burden and a reproach, that would be +fatal to them all!</p> + +<p>But Alice had showed unsuspected courage and pride +in this hard trial. She had made herself beautiful, +well-informed, tactful; she had made herself a magnet +to her husband's friends, and his home the centre of +a real social group. Annie respected her for it, and +helped her by flashing into her rooms not less often +than every alternate day, with gossip, with books, with +hints that showed Alice just where her course in this or +that matter must lie.</p> + +<p>So Alice had come to be an actual asset, and now +to her Aunt Annie's tremendous satisfaction, Leslie +promised to add one more feather to the family cap +by announcing her engagement to Acton Liggett. +Annie smiled to herself whenever she thought of it. +When this was consummated she would have nothing +left but the selection of suitable wives for Hendrick +Junior, now aged ten, and Piet, who was four years +younger.</p> + +<p>Two or three days after the ending of the big snow-storm, +and the beginning of that domestic storm that +was destined strangely to change some of the lives +nearest her, Annie went in to have luncheon with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +sister. It was a brilliant sunshiny winter day, with +crossings swimming in melting snow and roofs steaming +brightly into the clear air.</p> + +<p>Annie went straight upstairs to Alice's room, with the +usual apology for lateness. She kissed Alice lightly +on the forehead, and while Freda was coming and +going with their meal, they discussed the little boys, +books, politics, and the difficulties of the city in the +snow.</p> + +<p>But when they were alone Annie asked immediately:</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter with Mama, Alice?"</p> + +<p>"You mean about——? Did she tell you?"</p> + +<p>"No; she didn't have to. Leslie ran in yesterday +afternoon, and told me that Mama has been in bed +since Saturday! I telephoned Sunday morning, but +Hendrick and I were taking the boys up to his uncle's +house, in Westchester, and—as she didn't say one word +about being ill—I didn't see her that day, nor yesterday, +as it happened, for we didn't come down until +noon. When Leslie came in, there were other people +there for tea, and I didn't have a chance to speak to +her alone. But I went over to Mama this morning, +and she seems all broken up!"</p> + +<p>"What did she tell you?" Alice asked, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, you know Mama! She wept, and +patted my hand, and said that it was sad to be the +last of your own generation, and she hoped you and I +would always have each other, and that she had always +loved us, and tried to do her best for us——"</p> + +<p>Alice laughed.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mama! She gets so worked up!" she said.</p> + +<p>"But what do you make of it?" demanded Annie. +"She talked of this Kate Sheridan—I remember her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +perfectly, she came to Paris when I was so ill, years ago. +Poor Mama cried, and said that she wished to do +something for Kate. Now you know, Alice," Annie +went on reasonably, "nobody is tying Mama's hands! +If she wants to educate this young girl—this Norma +person—to please Kate, or all her children for that +matter, she doesn't have to go into hysterics, and send +for Judge Lee. She said she didn't feel at all well, and +she wanted to secure to Kate some money in her will +I told her it was ridiculous—she never looked better in +her life! I wish she could get over to see you, Alice; +you always soothe her so. What on earth does Chris +make of it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you what we've done," Alice smiled. +"Chris went to see her Sunday, and they had a long +talk. He tells me that she was just as vague and unsatisfactory +as ever, but calmer, and she finally admitted +that all she really wanted to do was to befriend +this niece of Kate Sheridan. Of course Chris and I +think Mama has one of her funny notions about it, +but if the child's mother had befriended Mama, for +example, a thousand years ago, or if Mama had borrowed +five dollars from Kate, and forgotten to return +it, you know that would be enough to account for all +this excitement."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" Annie admitted, with her favourite +look of intolerant, yet indulgent, scorn.</p> + +<p>"Well, it seems the girl is in Biretta's Bookshop, and +Chris has often bought books of her. So to quiet +Mama he promised that he would bring her out here +to have tea with me some day soon. Mama was delighted, +and I think she hopes that a friendship will +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>come of it." Alice threw herself back into the +pillows, and drew a great breath as if she were weary. +"I only want to please Mama!" she finished.</p> + +<p>"You're an angel," Annie said, absently. "I suppose +I could get the truth out of Mama in five seconds," +she mused. "It looks to me rather like blackmail!"</p> + +<p>"No; she said not!" Alice contradicted, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's all so silly," the elder sister said, impatiently. +"And coming just now——" she added, significantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I know!" Alice agreed, with a comprehending +look. And in lowered tones they began to talk of +Leslie's possible engagement.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Norma Sheridan</span> saw the engagement announced in +a morning paper two weeks later, and carried the picture +of pretty Miss Melrose home, to entertain the +dinner table. The news had been made known at a +dinner given to forty young persons, in the home of the +débutante's aunt, Mrs. Hendrick von Behrens. Miss +Melrose, said the paper, was the daughter and heiress +of the late Theodore Melrose, and made her home with +her grandmother. Mr. Liggett was the brother of +Christopher Liggett, whose marriage to Miss Alice +Melrose was a social event some years ago. A number +of dinners and dances were already planned in honour +of the young pair.</p> + +<p>Norma looked at the pictured face with a little stir of +feelings so confused that she could not define them, at +her heart. But she passed the paper to her aunt with +no comment.</p> + +<p>"You might send them two dozen kitchen towels, +Mother," Wolf suggested, drily, and Rose laughed joyously. +Her own engagement present from her mother +had been this extremely practical one, and Rose loved +to open her lower bureau drawer, and gloat over the +incredible richness of possessing twenty-four smooth, +red-striped, well-hemmed glass-towels, all her own. +Norma had brought her two thick, dull gray Dedham +bowls, with ducks waddling around them, and these +were in the drawer, too, wrapped in tissue paper. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +beside these were the length of lemon-coloured silk +that Rose had had for a year, without making up, +and six of her mother's fine sheets of Irish linen, and +two glass candlesticks that Rose had won at a Five-hundred +party. Altogether, Rose felt that she was +making great strides toward home-making, especially +as she and Harry must wait for months, perhaps a +year. Norma had promised her two towels a month, +until there were a whole dozen, and Wolf, prompted +by the same generous little heart, told her not to give +the gas-stove a thought, for she was to have the handsomest +one that money could buy, with a stand-up +oven and a water-heater, from her brother. Rose +walked upon air.</p> + +<p>But Norma was in a mood that she herself seemed +unable to understand or to combat. She felt a constant +inclination toward tears. She didn't hate the +Melroses—no, they had been most friendly and kind. +But—but it was a funny world in which one girl had +everything, like Leslie, and another girl had no brighter +prospect than to drudge away in a bookstore all her +life, or to go out on Sundays with her cousin. Norma +dreamed for hours of Leslie's life, the ease and warmth +and beauty of it, and when Leslie was actually heralded +as engaged the younger girl felt a pang of the first +actual jealousy she had ever known. She imagined +the beautiful drawing-room in which Acton Liggett—perhaps +as fascinating a person as his brother!—would +clasp pearls about Leslie's fair little throat; she imagined +the shining dinner tables at which Leslie's modestly +dropped blonde head would be stormed with compliments +and congratulations.</p> + +<p>And suddenly molasses peppermints and dish-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>washing +became odious to her, and she almost disliked +Rose for her pitiable ecstasies over china bowls +and glass-towels. All the pleasant excitement of +her call upon Mrs. Melrose, with Aunt Kate, died away. +It had seemed the beginning of some vaguely dreamed-of +progress toward a life of beauty and achievement, but +it was two weeks ago now, and its glamour was fading.</p> + +<p>True, Christopher Liggett had come into Biretta's +bookstore, with Leslie, and he and Norma had talked +together for a few minutes, and Leslie had extended +her Aunt Alice's kind invitation for tea. But no day +had been set for the tea, Norma reflected gloomily. +Now, she supposed, the stir of Leslie's engagement +would put all that out of Christopher's head.</p> + +<p>Wolf was not particularly sympathetic with her, +she mused, disconsolately. Wolf had been acting in an +unprecedented manner of late. Rose's engagement +seemed to have completely turned his head. He +laughed at Norma, hardly heard her words when she +spoke to him, and never moved his eyes from her when +they were together. Norma could not look up from +her book, or her plate, or from the study of a Broadway +shop window, without encountering that same steady, +unembarrassed, half-puzzled stare.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you, Wolf?" she would +ask, impatiently. But Wolf never told her.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, he did not know. He was a silent, +thoughtful fellow, old for his years in many ways, and +in some still a boy. Norma and Rose had known only +the more prosperous years of Kate's life, but Wolf +remembered many a vigil with his mother, remembered +her lonely struggles to make a living for him and for the +girls. He himself was the type that inevitably prospers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>—industrious, +good, intelligent, and painstaking, but as a +young boy in the working world he had early seen the +terrors in the lives of men about him: drink, dirt, +unemployment and disease, debt and dishonour. Wolf +was not quick of thought; he had little imagination, +rather marvelling at other men's cleverness than displaying +any of his own, and he had reached perhaps +his twenty-second or twenty-third summer before he +realized that these terrors did not menace him, that +whatever changes he made in his work would be improvements, +steps upward. For actual months after +the move to New York Wolf had pondered it, in quiet +gratitude and pleasure. Rent and bills could be paid, +there might be theatre treats for the girls, and chicken +for Sunday supper, and yet the savings account in the +Broadway bank might grow steadily, too. Far from +being a slave to his employer, Wolf began to realize +that this rather simple person was afraid of him, afraid +that young Sheridan and some of the other smart, +ingenious, practically educated men in his employ +might recognize too soon their own independence.</p> + +<p>And when the second summer in New York came, +and Wolf could negotiate the modest financial deal +that gave him and the girls a second-hand motor-car +to cruise about in on Sundays and holidays, when they +could picnic up in beautiful Connecticut, or unpack the +little fringed red napkins far down on the Long Island +shore, life had begun to seem very pleasant to him. +Debt and dirt and all the squalid horrors of what he +had seen, and what he had read, had faded from his +mind, and for awhile he had felt that his cup could hold +no more.</p> + +<p>But now, just lately, there was something else, and al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>though +the full significance of it had not yet actually +dawned upon him, Wolf began to realize that a change +was near. It was the most miraculous thing that had +ever come to him, although it concerned only little +Norma—only the little cousin who had been an actual +member of his family for all these years.</p> + +<p>He had heard his mother say a thousand times that +she was pretty; he had laughed himself a thousand times +at her quick wit. But he had never dreamed that it +would make his heart come up into his throat and +suffocate him whenever he thought of her, or that her +lightest and simplest words, her most casual and unconscious +glance, would burn in his heart for hours.</p> + +<p>During his busy days Wolf found himself musing +about this undefined and nebulous happiness that began +to tremble, like a growing brightness behind clouds, +through all his days and nights. Had there ever been a +time, he wondered, when he had taken her for granted, +helped her into her blessed little coat as coolly as he +had Rose? Had it been this same Norma who scolded +him about throwing his collars on the floor, and who +had sent his coat to the cleaner with a ten-dollar bill +in the pocket?</p> + +<p>Wolf remembered summer days, and little Norma +chattering beside him on the front seat, as the shabby +motor-car fled through the hot, dry city toward shade +and coolness. He remembered early Christmas Mass, +and Norma and Rose kneeling between him and his +mother, in the warm, fir-scented church. He remembered +breakfast afterward, in a general sense of hunger +and relaxation and well-being, and the girls exulting +over their presents. And every time that straight-shouldered, +childish figure came into his dream, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +mop of cloudy dark hair and flashing laugh, the new +delicious sense of some unknown felicity touched him, +and he would glance about the busy factory self-consciously, +as if his thoughts were written on his face +for all the world to read.</p> + +<p>Wolf had never had a sweetheart. It came to him +with the blinding flash of all epoch-making discoveries +that Norma was his girl—that he wanted Norma for +his own, and that there was no barrier between them. +And in the ecstasy of this new vision, which changed +the whole face of his world, he was content to wait with +no special impatience for the hour in which he should +claim her. Of course Norma must like him—must +love him, as he did her, unworthy as he felt himself of +her, and wonderful as this new Norma seemed to be. +Wolf, in his simple way, felt that this had been his +destiny from the beginning.</p> + +<p>That a glimpse of life as foreign and unnatural as the +Melrose life might seriously disenchant Norma never +occurred to him. Norma had always been fanciful, +it was a part of her charm. Wolf, who worked in the +great Forman shops, had felt it no particular distinction +when by chance one day he had been called from his +luncheon to look at the engine of young Stanley Forman's +car. He had left his seat upon a pile of lumber, +bolted the last of his pie, and leaned over the hood of +the specially designed racer interested only in its +peculiarities, and entirely indifferent to the respectful +young owner, who was aware that he knew far less about +it than this mechanic did. Sauntering back to his +work in the autumn sunlight, Wolf had followed the +youthful millionaire by not even a thought. If he +had done so, it might have been a half-contemptuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +decision that a man who knew so little of engines ought +not to drive a racer.</p> + +<p>So Norma's half-formed jealousies, desires, and +dreams were a sealed book to him. But this very +unreasonableness lent her an odd exotic charm in his +eyes. She was to Wolf like a baby who wants the +moon. The moon might be an awkward and useless +possession, and the baby much better without it, +still there is something winning and touching about the +little imperious mouth and the little upstretched +arms.</p> + +<p>One night, when he had reached home earlier than +either of the girls, Wolf was in the warm bright kitchen, +alone with his mother. He was seated at the end of the +scrubbed and bleached little table; Kate at the other +end was neatly and dexterously packing a yellow bowl +with bread pudding.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember, years and years ago, Mother," +Wolf said, chewing a raisin, thoughtfully, "that you +told me that Norma isn't my real cousin?"</p> + +<p>Kate's ruddy colour paled a little, and she looked +anxious. Not Perseus, coming at last in sight of his +Gorgon, had a heart more sick with fear than hers was +at that instant.</p> + +<p>"What put that into your head, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know. But it's true, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Kate scattered chopped nuts from the bowl of her +spoon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's true," she said. "There's not a drop of the +same blood in your veins, although I love her as I do +you and Rose."</p> + +<p>She was silent, and Wolf, idly turning the egg-beater +in an empty dish, smiled to himself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +"But what made you think of that, Wolf?" his +mother asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" Wolf did not look at her, but his +big handsome face was suffused with happy colour. +"Harry and Rose, maybe," he admitted.</p> + +<p>Kate sat down suddenly, her eyes upon him.</p> + +<p>"Not the Baby?" she half whispered.</p> + +<p>Her son leaned back in his chair, and folded his big +arms across his chest. When he looked at her the +smile had faded from his face, and his eyes were a trifle +narrowed, and his mouth set.</p> + +<p>"I guess so!" he said, simply. "I guess it's always +been—Norma. But I didn't always know it. I used +to think of her as just another sister—like Rose. But +I know now that she'll never seem that again—never +did, really."</p> + +<p>He was silent, and Kate sat staring at him in silence.</p> + +<p>"Has she any relatives, Mother?"</p> + +<p>"Has—what?"</p> + +<p>"Has she people—who are they?"</p> + +<p>Kate looked at the floor.</p> + +<p>"She has no one but me, Son."</p> + +<p>"Of course, she's not nineteen, and I don't believe +it's ever crossed her mind," Wolf said. "I don't +think Norma ever had a real affair—just kid affairs, +like Paul Harrison, and that man at the store who +used to send her flowers. But I don't believe those +count."</p> + +<p>"I don't think she ever has," Kate said, heavily +getting to her feet, and beginning to pour her custard +slowly through the packed bread. Presently she +stopped, and set the saucepan down, her eyes narrowed +and fixed on space. Then Wolf saw her press the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +fingers of one hand upon her mouth, a sure sign of mental +perturbation.</p> + +<p>"I know I'm not worthy to tie her little shoes for her, +Mother," he said, suddenly, and very low.</p> + +<p>"There's no woman in the world good enough for +you," his mother answered, with a troubled laugh. +And she gave the top of his head one of her rare, +brisk kisses as she passed him, on her way out of the +room.</p> + +<p>Wolf was sufficiently familiar with the domestic +routine to know that every minute was precious now, +and that she was setting the table. But his heart was +heavy with a vague uneasiness; she had not encouraged +him very much. She had not accepted this suggestion +as she did almost all of the young people's ideas, with +eager coöperation and sympathy. He sat brooding +at the kitchen table, her notable lack of enthusiasm +chilling him, and infusing him with her own doubts.</p> + +<p>When she came back, she stood with her back turned +to him, busied with some manipulation of platters and +jars in the ice-box.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, dear," she said, "I want to ask you something. +The child's too young to listen to you—or any one!—now. +Promise me—<i>promise me</i>, that you'll speak to +me again before you——"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I'll promise that, Mother!" Wolf said, +quickly, hurt to the soul. She read his tone aright, +and came to lay her cheek against his hair.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Son. Since the day her mother gave +her to me I've hoped it would be this way! But there's +nothing to be gained by hurry. You——"</p> + +<p>"But you would be glad, Mother! You do think +that she might have me?" poor Wolf said, eagerly and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +humbly. He was amazed to see tears brimming his +mother's eyes as she nodded and turned away.</p> + +<p>Before either spoke again a rush in the hall announced +the home-coming girls, who entered the kitchen +gasping and laughing with the cold.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" panted Norma, catching Wolf's hands +in her own half-frozen ones. "I'm dying! Oh, +Wolf, feel my nose!" She pressed it against his +forehead. "Oh, there's a wind like a knife—and look +at my shoe—in I went, right through the ice! Oh, +Aunt Kate, let me stay here!" and locking both slender +arms about the older woman's neck, she dropped her +dark, shining head upon her breast like a storm-blown +bird. "It's four below zero in Broadway this minute," +she added, looking sidewise under her curling lashes +at Wolf.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?" Wolf demanded.</p> + +<p>"The man I bought that paper from said so; go +back and ask him. Oh, joy, that looks good!" said +Norma, eyeing the pudding that was now being drawn, +crackling, bubbling, and crisp, from the oven. "Rose +and I fell over the new lineoleum in the hall; I thought +it was a dead body!" she went on, cheerfully. "I came +<i>down</i> on my family feature with such a noise that I +thought the woman downstairs would be rattling the +dumb-waiter ropes again long before this!" She stepped +to the dumb-waiter, and put her head into the shaft. +"What is it, darling?" she called.</p> + +<p>"Norma, behave yourself. It would serve you good +and right if she heard you," Mrs. Sheridan said, in a +panic. "Go change your shoes, and come and eat +your dinner. I believe," her aunt added, pausing +near her, "that you <i>did</i> skin your nose in the hall."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +"Oh, heavens!" Norma exclaimed, bringing her face +close to the dark window, as to a mirror. "Oh, say +it will be gone by Friday! Because on Friday I'm +going to have tea with Mrs. Liggett—her husband +came in to-day and asked me. Oh, the darling! He +certainly is the—well, the most—well, I don't know!——His +voice, and the quiet, <i>quiet</i> way——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, for pity's sake go change your shoes!" Rose +interrupted. "You are the biggest idiot! I went into +the store to get her," Rose explained, "and I've had all +this once, in the subway. How Mr. Liggett picks +up his glasses, on their ribbon, to read the titles of +books——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you shut up!" Norma called, departing. And +unashamed, when dinner was finished, and the table +cleared, she produced a pack of cards and said that +she was going to play <i>The Idle Year</i>.</p> + +<p>"... and if I get it, it'll mean that the man I +marry is going to look exactly like Chris Liggett."</p> + +<p>She did not get it, and played it again. The third +time she interrupted Wolf's slow and patient perusal +of the <i>Scientific American</i> to announce that she was +now going to play it to see if he was in love with Mary +Redding.</p> + +<p>"Think how nice that would be, Aunt Kate, a +double wedding. And if Wolf or Rose died and +left a lot of children, the other one would always be +there to take in whoever was left—you know what I +mean!"</p> + +<p>"You're the one Wolf ought to marry, to make it +complete," Rose, who was neatly marking a cross-stitch +"R" on a crash towel, retaliated neatly.</p> + +<p>"I can't marry my cousin, Miss Smarty."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +"Oh, don't let a little thing like that worry you," +Wolf said, looking across the table.</p> + +<p>"Our children would be idiots—perhaps they would +be, anyway!" Norma reminded him, in a gale of laughter. +Her aunt looked up disapprovingly over her glasses.</p> + +<p>"Baby, don't talk like that. That's not a nice way +to talk at all. Wolf, you lead her on. Now, we'll +not have any more of that, if you please. I see the +President is making himself very unpopular, Wolf—I +don't know why they all make it so hard for the poor +man! Mrs. McCrea was in the market this morning——"</p> + +<p>"If I win this game, Rose, by this time next year," +Norma said, in an undertone, "you'll have——"</p> + +<p>"Norma Sheridan!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Aunt Kate!"</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to speak to you again?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am!"</p> + +<p>Norma subsided for a brief space, Rose covertly +watching the game. Presently the younger girl burst +forth anew.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Wolf, I'll bet you that I can get more words +out of the letters in Christopher than you can!"</p> + +<p>Wolf roused himself, smiled, took out his fountain +pen, and reached for a sheet of paper. He was always +ready for any sort of game. Norma, bending herself +to the contest, put her pencil into her mouth, and +stared fixedly at the green-shaded drop light. Rose, +according to ancient precedent, was permitted to assist +evenly and alternately.</p> + +<p>And Kate, watching them and listening, even while +she drowsed over the Woman's Page, decided that +after all they were nothing but a pack of children.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">To Leslie Melrose</span> had come the very happiest +time of her life. She had always had everything she +wanted; it had never occurred to her to consider a fortunate +marriage engagement as anything but a matter of +course, in her case. She was nineteen, she was "mad," +in her own terms, about Acton Liggett, and the engagement +was the natural result.</p> + +<p>But the ensuing events were far more delightful than +Leslie had dreamed, even in her happy dreams. All +her world turned from its affairs of business and intrigue +and amusement to centre its attention upon her little +person for the moment, and to shower her with ten +times enough flattery and praise to turn a much steadier +head. Presents rained upon Leslie, and every one +of them was astonishingly handsome and valuable; +newspapers clamoured for her picture, and wherever +she went she was immediately the focus for all eyes. +That old Judge Lee should send her some of his mother's +beautiful diamonds; that Christopher and Alice should +order for her great crates of specially woven linen that +were worthy of a queen; that Emanuel Massaro, the +painter of the hour, should ask her to sit for him, were +all just so much sheer pleasure added to the sum total +of her happiness in loving the man of her choice and +knowing herself beloved by him.</p> + +<p>Leslie found herself, for the first time in her life, a +person of importance with Aunt Annie, too. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +social leader found time to advise her little niece in +the new contingencies that were perpetually arising, +lent Leslie her private secretary for the expeditious +making of lists or writing of notes, and bullied her own +autocratic modiste into promising at least half of the +trousseau. It was Annie who decided that the marriage +must be at a certain Park Avenue church, and at a +certain hour, and that the reception at the house must +be arranged in a certain manner, and no other. Hendrick +or Judge Lee would give away the bride, Christopher +would be his brother's best man, and Leslie +would be given time to greet her guests and change her +gown and be driven to Alice's house for just one kiss +before she and Acton went away.</p> + +<p>Acton had begged for an Easter wedding, but Leslie, +upon her aunt's advice, held out for June. If the war +was over by that time—and everyone said it must be, +for so hideous a combat could not possibly last more +than six or eight months—then they would go to England +and the Continent, but otherwise they might drift +through Canada to the Pacific Coast, and even come +back by San Francisco and the newly opened Canal.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Annie entertained her niece royally +and untiringly. Formal dinners to old family friends +must come first, but when spring arrived Leslie was +promised house parties and yachting trips more after +her own heart. The girl was so excited, so bewildered +and tired, even after the first two weeks, that she remained +in bed until noon every day, and had a young +maid especially detailed to take her dressmaker's +fittings for her. But even so she lost weight, her +cheeks burned and her eyes glittered feverishly, and her +voice took an unnaturally high key, her speech a certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +shallow quickness. Acton's undeviating adoration she +took with a pretty, spoiled acquiescence, and with +old family friends she was charmingly dutiful and +deferential, but always with the air of sparing a few +glittering drops to their age and dulness from the overflowing +cup of her youth and beauty and power. But +with her grandmother and aunts she had a new attitude +of self-confidence, and to her girl friends she was no +longer the old intimate and equal, but a being who had, +for the moment at least, left them all behind. She +would show them the new silver, the new linens, the +engagement-time frocks that were in themselves a +trousseau, and wish that Doris or Marion or Virginia +were engaged, too; it was such fun! And with older +women, the débutantes of six and eight and ten years +ago, who had failed of all this glory, who could only +listen sweetly to the chatter of plans and honours, and +look in uncomplaining admiration at the blazing ring, +Leslie was quite merciless. The number of times that +she managed to mention her age, the fact that Madame +Modiste had tried to give her fittings after three o'clock +under the impression that she was a schoolgirl, and +the "craziness" of "little me" going over all the late +Mrs. Liggett's chests of silver and china, perhaps only +these unsuccessful candidates for matrimony could +estimate. Certainly Leslie herself was quite unconscious +of it, and truly believed what she heard on all +sides, that she was "adorable," and "not changed one +bit," and "just as unconscious that there was anything +else in the world but Acton, as a little girl with +her first doll."</p> + +<p>Christopher and Alice, in the first years of their +married life, had built a home at Glen Cove, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +Christopher made this his wedding present to his +brother. Necessarily, even the handsomest of country +homes, if ten years old, needs an almost complete renovation, +and this renovation Acton and Leslie, guided +by a famous architect, began rapturously to plan, +reserving a beautiful apartment not far from Alice in +Park Avenue for autumn furnishing and refitting.</p> + +<p>All these activities and interests kept the lovers busy, +and kept them apart indeed, or united them only in +groups of other people. But Acton could bring his +pretty sweetheart home from a dinner now and then, +and come into the old Melrose house for a precious +half hour of murmuring talk, or could sometimes persuade +her to leave a tea or a matinée early enough to +walk a few blocks with him.</p> + +<p>In this fashion they slipped away from a box party +one Friday afternoon, and found themselves walking +briskly northward, into the neighbourhood of Alice's +house. Leslie had had, for several days, a rather guilty +feeling in regard to this lovely aunt. It was really +hard, rising at noon, and trying to see and please so +many persons, to keep in close touch with the patient +and uncomplaining invalid, who had to depend wholly +upon the generosity of those she loved for knowledge +of them. So Leslie was glad to suggest, and Acton +glad to agree, that they had better go in and see Aunt +Alice for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>As usual, Mrs. Liggett had company, although it +proved only to be the pretty Miss Sheridan who had +called upon Leslie's grandmother on the first day of +that mysterious indisposition that had kept the old +lady bedridden almost ever since.</p> + +<p>Alice looked oddly tired, but her eyes were shining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +brightly, and Norma was charmingly happy and at +ease. She jumped up to shake hands with Acton with +a bright comment that he was not in the <i>least</i> like his +brother, and recalled herself to Leslie before offering her +all sorts of good wishes. Norma, hoping that it would +some day occur, had indeed anticipated this meeting +with Leslie by a little mental consideration of what +she should say, but the effect was so spontaneous and +sincere that the four were enabled to settle down comfortably +to tea, in a few moments, like old friends.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sheridan—or Norma, rather—and I have been +having a perfectly delicious talk," said Alice. "She +loves Christina Rossetti, and she knew the 'Hound of +Heaven' by heart, and she has promised to send me a +new man's work that sounds delightful—what was it? +Something about General Booth?"</p> + +<p>"If I haven't chattered you to death!" Norma said, +penitentially. And Leslie added: "Aunt Alice, you +<i>do</i> look tired! Not that talking poetry ever would +tire you!" she hastened to add, with a smile for Norma.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not—or rather, I was, but I feel wonderfully!" +Alice said. "Pour the tea, Kitten. What +have you two little adventurers been doing with +yourselves?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Dupré's party—Yvette Guilbert," Leslie +said. "She is quite too wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"I've always wanted to see her, and I've always +known I would adore her," Norma interpolated, +dreamily.</p> + +<p>Alice glanced at her quickly.</p> + +<p>"Does she give another matinée, Leslie?"</p> + +<p>"Two——" Leslie looked at Acton. "Is it two +weeks from to-day?" she questioned.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +"I'll send you seats for it," Alice said, making a little +note on her ivory memoranda pages, as she nodded to +Norma. The colour rushed into Norma's face, and +she bit her lip.</p> + +<p>"But, Mrs. Liggett—honestly—I truly didn't mean—I +only meant——" she began to stammer, half laughing. +Alice laid her hand upon Norma's reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"My dear, you know I don't think you hinted! +But I want to do it. I can't"—Alice said, smiling—"I +can't do anything for little Miss Aladdin here, and +it gives me the greatest pleasure, now and then——"</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you something about Mrs. Liggett," +Acton said; "she's got a grasping nature and a mean +soul—you can see that! She's the limit, all right!" +He smiled down at her as he gave her her teacup, and +Leslie laughed outright. Acton was a person of few +words, but when he chose to talk, Leslie found his manner +amusing. Christopher, coming up to join them +fifteen minutes later, said that from the noise they +made he had supposed at least fifty persons to be in +his wife's room.</p> + +<p>Did Norma, as she gave the master of the house her +hand, have sudden memory of all her recent absurd extravagances +in his name—the games, the surmises, the +wild statements that had had Chris Liggett as their +inspiration? If she did, she gave no sign of it beyond +the bright flush with which she greeted her oldest acquaintance +in this group. Christopher sat down, content +to be a listener and an onlooker, as he sipped his +tea, but Norma saw that his wife's look of white fatigue +made him uneasy, and immediately said that she must +go.</p> + +<p>He made no protest, but said that the car was at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +door, and she must let him send her home. Norma +agreed, and Acton asked if he and Leslie might not +use it, too. The three departed in high spirits, Alice +detaining the radiant and excited Norma long enough +to exact from her the promise of another visit soon, +and to send an affectionate message to Mrs. Sheridan +from "Miss Alice." Then they went down to the big +car, an exciting and delightful experience to Norma.</p> + +<p>Leslie was left first, and Acton, pleading that he was +already late for another engagement, was dropped at +his club. Then Norma had the car to herself, and as +it smoothly flew toward the humble doorway of the +Sheridans, could giggle, almost aloud, in her pleasure +and exhilaration at an afternoon that had gone without a +single awkward minute, all pleasant, harmonious, and +vaguely flattering. And the wonderful Mrs. Liggett +had asked her to come soon again, and had made that +delightful suggestion about the concert. The name +of Yvette Guilbert meant little to Norma, but the +thought that Alice Liggett really wanted to hold her +friendship was nothing less than intoxicating.</p> + +<p>She looked out of the car, the streets were bare of +snow now, there was not a leaf showing in the park, and +the ground was dark and unpromising. But a cool, +steady wind was blowing through the lingering twilight, +men were running after rolling hats, and at least the +milliners' windows were radiant with springtime bloom. +Children were playing in Norma's street, wrapped and +muffled children, wild with joy to be out of doors +again, and a tiny frail little moon was floating in the +opal sky just above the grim line of roofs. Norma +looked up at it, and the pure blowing air touched her +hot face, and her heart sang with the sheer joy of living.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Christopher</span> had gone down to the door with his +brother and the girls, and had sent a glance up and +down the quiet, handsome block, feeling in the moving +air what Norma felt, what all the city felt—the bold, +wild promise of spring. He turned back into the house +with something like a sigh; Acton and Leslie in their +young happiness were somehow a little haunting to-night.</p> + +<p>The butler was starting upstairs with the papers; +Christopher took them from him, and went back to +Alice's room with his eyes idly following the headlines. +The pretty apartment was somewhat disordered, and +looked dull and dark in the half light. Christopher +walked to a window, and pushed it open upon its railed +balcony.</p> + +<p>"Chris!" whispered his wife's voice, thick and dry in +the gloom.</p> + +<p>Aghast in the instant apprehension of something +wrong, he sprang to her couch, dropped to his knees, +and put an arm about her.</p> + +<p>"Alice! What is it, my darling?"</p> + +<p>She struggled for speech, and he could see that her +face was ashen.</p> + +<p>"Chris—no, don't ring. Chris, <i>who is that girl</i>?"</p> + +<p>Christopher touched the chain that flooded the +couch with rosy light. He bent in eager sympathy +over his wife's relaxed form.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +"Alice, what is it?" he asked, tenderly. "Don't +worry, dear, don't try to talk too fast! Just tell Chris +what frightened you——"</p> + +<p>Alice laughed wretchedly as she detached the fingers +he had pressed anxiously upon her forehead.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not feverish!" she assured him, holding +tight to his hand. "But I want you to tell me, Chris, +I must know—and no matter what promise you have +given Mother—or given any one——"</p> + +<p>"Now, now, now!" he soothed her. "I'll tell you +anything, sweetheart, only don't let yourself get so +excited. Just tell me what it is, Alice, and I'll do anything +in the world for you, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Chris," she said, swallowing with a dry throat, and +sitting up with an air of regaining self-control, "you +must tell me. You know you can trust me, you +<i>know</i>——! That girl——"</p> + +<p>"But <i>what</i> girl—what are you talking about, dear? +Do—do try to be just a little clearer, and calmer——"</p> + +<p>"Who"—said Alice, with a ghastly look, sweeping +the hair back from her damp forehead—"who is that +Norma Sheridan?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I told you, dear, that I don't know," her +husband protested. "I told you weeks ago, after +your mother made that scene, the night of Hendrick's +speech, that I couldn't make head or tail of it!"</p> + +<p>"Chris"—Alice was regarding him fixedly—"you +<i>must</i> know!"</p> + +<p>"Dearest, couldn't your mother simply wish to befriend +a girl whose parents——"</p> + +<p>Alice flung her loosened hair back, and at her gesture +and her glance at the little carafe on her table he poured +her a glass of cold water. Drinking it off, and raising<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +herself in her cushions, she stretched her hand to +touch the chair beside her, and still without a word +indicated that he was to take it. With a face of grave +concern Christopher sat down beside her, holding her +hands in both his own.</p> + +<p>"Chris," she said, clearly and quickly, if with occasional +catches of breath, "the minute that girl came +into the room I knew that—I knew that <i>horror</i> had +come upon us all! I knew that she was one of us—one +of us Melroses, somehow——"</p> + +<p>"Alice!" he said, pleadingly.</p> + +<p>"But Mama," she said, with a keen look, "didn't +tell you that?"</p> + +<p>"She told me only what I told you that night, on my +honour as a gentleman! Alice, what makes you say +what you do?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Chris," his wife cried, almost frantically, "look +at her! <i>Look</i> at her! Why, her voice is Annie's, the +same identical voice—she looks like my father, like +Theodore—she looks like us all! She and Leslie were +so much alike, as they sat there, in spite of the colouring, +that I almost screamed it at them! Surely—surely, +you see it—everyone sees it!"</p> + +<p>He stared at her, beginning to breathe a little quickly +in his turn.</p> + +<p>"By George!" she heard him whisper, as if to +himself.</p> + +<p>"Do you see it, Chris?" Alice whispered, almost +fearfully.</p> + +<p>"But—but——" He got up and walked restlessly to +the window, and came back to sit down again. "But +there's a cousinship somewhere," he said, sensibly. +"There's no reason to suppose that the thing can't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +be explained. I do think you're taking this thing pretty +hard, my dear. What can you possibly suppose? +There might be a hundred girls——"</p> + +<p>His voice fell. Alice was watching him expectantly.</p> + +<p>"Mama felt it—saw it—as I do," she said. "You +may be very sure that Mama wouldn't have almost +lost her mind, as she did, unless something had given +her cause!"</p> + +<p>They looked at each other in silence, in the utter +silence of the lovely, cool-toned room.</p> + +<p>"Alice," Chris said in a puzzled voice after awhile, +"you suspect me of keeping something from you. +But on my honour you know all that your mother +told me—all that I know!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris," she said, with a sort of wail. "If I +don't know more!"</p> + +<p>Her husband's slow colour rose.</p> + +<p>"How could you know more?" he asked, bewilderedly.</p> + +<p>Alice was unhappily silent.</p> + +<p>"Chris, if I tell you what I'm afraid of—what I +fear," she said, presently, after anxious thought, "will +you promise me never, never to speak of it—never even +to think of it!—if it—if it proves not to be true?"</p> + +<p>"I don't have to tell you that, Alice," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, of course you don't—of course you don't!" she +echoed with a nervous laugh. "I'll tell you what I +think, Chris—what has been almost driving me mad—and +you can probably tell me a thousand reasons why +it can't be so! You see, I've never understood Mama's +feverish distress these last weeks. She's been to +see me, she's done what had to be done about Leslie's +engagement, but she's not herself—you can see that!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +Yesterday she began to cry, almost for nothing, and +when I happened to mention—or rather when I mentioned +very deliberately—that Miss Sheridan was coming +here, she almost shrieked. Well, I didn't know what +to make of it, and even then I rather wondered——</p> + +<p>"Even then," Alice began again, after a painful +pause, and with her own voice rising uncontrollably, +"I suspected something. But not this! Oh, Chris, +if I'm wrong about this, I shall be on my knees for +gratitude for the rest of my life; I would die, I would +die to have it just—just my wretched imagination!—A +thing like this—to us—the Melroses—who have always +been so straight—so respected!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Alice—now, Alice!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" she said, quickly. "I know!" And +for a moment she lay back quietly, stroking his hand. +"Chris," she resumed, composedly, after a moment, +"you know the tragedy of Annie's life?"</p> + +<p>Chris, taken by surprise, frowned.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I suppose so," he admitted, unwillingly.</p> + +<p>"Chris, did it ever occur to you that she might have +had a child—by that fiend?"</p> + +<p>Chris looked at his wife a moment, and his eyes +widened, and his mouth twitched humorously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now, Alice—come now!"</p> + +<p>"You think it's folly!" she asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Worse!" he answered, briefly, his eyes smiling reproach.</p> + +<p>Alice's whole tense body relaxed, and she stared at +him with light dawning in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, probably it is," she said, very simply.</p> + +<p>"Of course it is," Chris said. "Now, you are dead +tired, dear, and you have let the thing mill about in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +your head until you can't see anything normally. I +confess that I don't understand your mother's mysterious +nervousness, but then I am free to say that I don't +by any means always understand your mother! You +remember the pearl episode, and the time that she had +Annie and Hendrick cabling from Italy—because +Hendrick Junior had a rash! And then there was +Porter—a boy nineteen years old, and she actually +had everyone guessing exactly what she felt toward +him——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris, no, she didn't! She simply felt that he +was a genius, and he hadn't a penny," Alice protested, +reproachful and hurt.</p> + +<p>"Well, she had him there at the house until his +mother came after him, and then, when he finally +was sent abroad, she asked me seriously if I thought +two hundred dollars a month was enough for his musical +education!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" Alice said, ruefully, shaking her +head.</p> + +<p>"Now this comes along," said Christopher, encouraged +by the effect of his words, "and you begin to fret +your poor little soul with all sorts of wild speculations. +I wish to the Lord that your mother was a little bit +more trusting with her confidences, but when it all +comes out it'll prove to be some sister of your grandfather +who married a tailor or something, and left a +line of pretty girls to work in Biretta's——"</p> + +<p>"But, Chris, she reminded me so of Annie to-day I +almost felt <i>sick</i>," Alice said, still frightened and +dubious.</p> + +<p>"Well, that merely shows that you're soft-hearted; +it's no reflection on Annie!" Chris said, giving her her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +paper, and opening his own. But Alice did not open +her paper.</p> + +<p>A maid came in, and moved about noiselessly setting +chairs and rugs in order. Another soft light was lighted +and the little square table set before the fire. The cool +fresh air drifted in at the half-open window, and sent +a delicate breath, from Alice's great bowl of freesia lilies, +through the peaceful room. The fire snapped smartly +about a fresh log, and Alice's great tortoise-shell cat +came to make a majestic spring into her lap.</p> + +<p>"Chris—I'm so worried!" said his wife.</p> + +<p>"As a matter of fact," said Christopher, quietly, after +a while, "did——Annie was very ill, I know, but was +there—was there any reason to suppose that there +might have been—that such a situation as to-day's +might have arisen?"</p> + +<p>Alice looked at him with apprehension dawning afresh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—that is, I believe so. I didn't know it +then, of course."</p> + +<p>"I never knew that," Christopher said, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't at the time, you know. It was—of +course it was sixteen—eighteen years ago," Alice said. +And in a whisper she added, "Chris, that girl is eighteen!"</p> + +<p>Christopher pursed his lips to whistle, but made no +sound, and looked into the fire.</p> + +<p>"You see I was only about thirteen or fourteen," +Alice said. "I was going to Miss Bennet's school, and +we were all living in the Madison Avenue house. Papa +had been dead only a year, or less, for I remember that +Annie was eighteen, and wasn't going out much, because +of mourning. Theodore had been worrying Mama to +death, and had left the house then, and Mama was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +sending him and his wife money, I believe, but of course +lots of that was kept from me. Annie was terribly +wild and excitable then, always doing reckless things; +I can remember when she and Belle Duer dressed up +as boys and had their pictures taken, and once they +put a matrimonial advertisement in the papers—of +course they were just silly—at least that was. But +then she began to rave about this man Müller——"</p> + +<p>"The acrobat!" Christopher, who was listening intently, +supplied.</p> + +<p>"No, dearest! He was their riding master—I suppose +that isn't much better, really. But he was an +extremely handsome man—really stunning. Carry Winchester's +mother forbade her taking any more lessons +because <i>she</i> was so wild about him, and Annie told +me once that that was why Ida Burnett was popped +into a boarding school. He was big, and dark, and +he had a slight foreign accent, and he was ever so much +older than Annie—forty, at least. She began to spend +all her time at the riding club; it used to make Mama +wild—especially as Annie was so headstrong and +saucy about it! Poor Mama, I remember her crying +and complaining!"</p> + +<p>"And how long did this go on?" Christopher asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, weeks! Well, and then one hot day, just before +Easter vacation it was, I remember, I came home +early from school with a headache, and when I reached +the upper hall I could hear Mama crying, and Annie +shouting out loud, and this Kate—this very same +Kate Sheridan!—trying to quiet Mama, and everything +in an uproar! Finally I heard Annie sobbing—I +was frightened to death of course, and I sat down on +the stairs that go up to the nursery—and I heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +Annie say something about being eighteen—and she +was eighteen the very day before; and she ran by +me, in her riding clothes, with the derby hat that girls +used to wear then, and her hair clubbed on her neck, +and she ran downstairs, and I could hear her crying, +and saying to herself: 'I'll show them; I'll show them!' +And that was the last I saw of her," Alice finished +sadly, "for almost two years."</p> + +<p>"She went out?" Christopher asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she slammed the door. Mama fainted."</p> + +<p>"Of course!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris," said his wife, half crying, "wasn't that +enough to make any one faint?—let alone Mama. +Anyway, she was dreadfully ill, and they rather shut +me up about it, and told everyone that Annie had gone +abroad. We had been living very quietly, you know, +and nobody cared much what Annie did, then. And +she really had gone abroad, she wrote Mama from +Montreal, and she had been married to Emil Müller in +Albany. They had taken a train there, and were +married that same afternoon. They went to London, +and they were in Germany, and then—then it all broke +up, you know about that!"</p> + +<p>"How much later was that?"</p> + +<p>Alice considered.</p> + +<p>"It was about Christmas time. Don't you remember +that I went to your mother, and Acton and I got +measles? Mama was abroad then."</p> + +<p>"And this Kate went with her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That was—that was one of the things I +was—just thinking about! Annie wrote Mama that +she was very ill, in Munich, and poor Mama just flew. +Müller had left her; indeed there was a woman and two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +quite big girls that had a claim on him, and if Mama +hadn't been so anxious to shut it all up, she might have +proved that he was a bigamist—but I don't know that +she was ever sure. Judge Lee put the divorce through +for Annie, and Mama took her to the Riviera and petted +her, and pulled her through. But all her hair came out, +and for weeks they didn't think she would live. She had +brain fever. You see, Annie had had some money +waiting for her on her eighteenth birthday, and your own +father, who was her guardian, Chris, had given her the +check—interest, it was, about seven or eight thousand +dollars. And he told her to open her own account, and +manage her own income, from then on. And we thought—Mama +and I—that in some way Müller must have +heard of it. Anyway, she never deposited the check, +and when her money gave out he just left her."</p> + +<p>"But what makes you think that her illness didn't +commence—or wasn't entirely—brain fever?"</p> + +<p>"That she might have had a baby?" Alice asked, +outright.</p> + +<p>Christopher nodded, the point almost insufferably +distasteful to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know it!" Alice said.</p> + +<p>"You <i>know</i> it?" the man echoed, almost in displeasure.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she told me herself! But of course that was +years later. At the time, all I knew was that Kate +Sheridan came home, and came to see me at school, +and told me that Mama and Annie were very well, but +that Annie had been frightfully sick, and that Mama +wouldn't come back until Annie was much stronger. +As a matter of fact, it was nearly two years—Theodore +took me over to them a year from that following sum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>mer, +and then Annie stayed with some friends in +England; she was having a wonderful time! But +years afterward, when little Hendrick was coming, +in fact, she was here one day, and she seemed to feel +blue, and finally I happened to say that if motherhood +seemed so hard to a person like herself, whose husband +and whose whole family were so mad with joy over the +prospect of a baby, what on earth must it be to the poor +girls who have every reason to hate it. And she +looked at me rather oddly, and said: 'Ah, I know what +<i>that</i> is!' Of course I guessed right away what she +meant, and I said: 'Annie—not really!' And she said: +'Oh, yes, that was what started my illness. I had +been so almost crazy—so blue and lonesome, and so sick +with horror at the whole thing, that it all happened too +soon, the day after Mama and Kate got there, in fact!' +And then she burst out crying and said: 'Thank God it +was that way! I couldn't have faced <i>that</i>.' And she +said that she had been too desperately ill to realize +anything, but that afterward, at Como, when she was +much better, she asked Mama about it, and Mama +said she must only be glad that it was all over, and try +to think of it as a terrible dream!"</p> + +<p>"Well, there you are," said Chris, "she herself says +that no child was born!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, Chris, mightn't it be that she didn't +know?" Alice submitted, timidly.</p> + +<p>Her husband eyed her with a faint and thoughtful +frown.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that that is rather a fantastic theory, +dear! Where would this child be all this time?"</p> + +<p>"Kate" Alice said, simply.</p> + +<p>"Kate!" he echoed, struck. And Alice saw, with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +sinking heart, that he was impressed. After a full +moment of silence he said, simply: "You think this is +the child?"</p> + +<p>"Chris," his wife cried, appealingly, "I don't say I +think so! But it occurred to me that it might be. I +hope, with all my soul, that you don't think so!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid," he answered, thoughtfully, "that I do!"</p> + +<p>Alice's eyes filled with tears, and she tightened her +fingers in his without speaking.</p> + +<p>"The idea being," Christopher mused, "that Mrs. +Sheridan brought the baby home, and has raised her. +That makes Miss Sheridan—Norma—the child of Annie +and that German blackguard!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so!" Alice admitted, despairingly.</p> + +<p>"But why has it been kept quiet all this time!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that," Alice said, "I don't understand. But +this I <i>am</i> sure of: Annie hasn't the faintest suspicion +of it! She supposes that the whole thing ended with +her terrible illness. She was only eighteen, and younger +and more childish even than Leslie is! Oh, Chris," +said Alice, her eyes watering, "isn't it horrible! To +come to us, of all people! Will everybody know?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it all depends. It's a nasty sort of business, +but I suppose there's no help for it. How much does +Hendrick know?"</p> + +<p>"About Annie? Oh, everything that she does; I +know that. Annie told him, and Judge Lee told him +about Müller and the divorce, or nullification, or whatever +it was! There was nothing left unexplained there. +But if the child lived, she didn't know that—only +Mama did, and Kate. Oh, poor Annie, it would kill +her to have all that raked up now! Why Kate kept +it secret all these years——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +"I must say," Christopher exclaimed, "that——By +George, I hate this sort of thing! No help for it, I suppose. +But if it gets out we shall all be in for a sweet lot +of notoriety. We shall just have to make terms with +these Sheridans, and keep our mouths shut. I didn't +get the idea that they were holding your mother +up. I believe it's more that she wants justice done; +she would, you know, for the sake of the family. The +girl herself, this Norma, evidently hasn't been raised on +any expectations—probably knows nothing about it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure of that!" Alice agreed, eagerly. "And +if she has Melrose blood in her, you may be sure she'll +play the game. But, Chris, I can't stand the uncertainty. +Mama's coming to have luncheon with me to-morrow, +and I'm going to ask her outright. And if +this Norma is really—what we fear, what do you +think we ought to do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's hard to say. It's all utterly damnable," +Christopher said, distressed. "And Annie, who let us +all in for it, gets off scot free! I wish, since she let it go +so long, that your mother had forgotten it entirely. But, +as it is, this child isn't, strictly speaking, illegitimate. +There was a marriage, and some sort of divorce, whether +Müller deceived Annie as to his being a bachelor or +not!"</p> + +<p>A maid stood in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Melrose, Mrs. Liggett."</p> + +<p>"Oh," Alice said, in an animated tone of pleasure, +"ask her to come upstairs!" But the eyes she turned +to her husband were full of apprehension. "Chris, +here's Mama now! Shall we——? Would you dare?"</p> + +<p>"Use your own judgment!" he had time to say +hastily, before his wife's mother came in.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Mrs. Melrose</span> frequently came in to join Alice for +dinner, especially when she was aware, as to-night, that +Christopher had an evening engagement. She was +almost always sure of finding Annie alone, and enjoying +the leisurely confidences that were crowded out of the +daytime hours.</p> + +<p>She had had several weeks of nervous illness now, but +looked better to-night, looked indeed her handsome +and comfortable self, as she received Chris's filial kiss +on her forehead, and bent to embrace her daughter. +Freda carried away her long fur-trimmed cloak, and +she pushed her veil up to her forehead, and looked with +affectionate concern from husband to wife.</p> + +<p>"Now, Chris, I'm spoiling things! But I thought +Carry Pope told me that you were going to her dinner +before the opera!"</p> + +<p>"I'm due there at eight," he said, reassuringly. +"And by the same token, I ought to be dressing! But +Alice and I have been loafing along here comfortably, +and I'd give about seven dollars to stay at home with +my wife!"</p> + +<p>"He always says that!" Alice said, smilingly. "But +he always has a nice time; and then the next night he +plays over the whole score, and tells me who was there, +and so I have it, too!"</p> + +<p>Chris had walked to the white mantelpiece, and was +lighting a cigarette.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +"Alice had that little protégée of yours here, to-day, +Aunt Marianna," he said, casually.</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking the look of miserable and +fearful interest that deepened instantly in the older +woman's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sheridan?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Mama," Alice exclaimed, suddenly, clasping a warm +hand over her mother's trembling one, and looking at +her with all love and reassurance, "you know how Chris +and I love you, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Tears came into Mrs. Melrose's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do, lovey," she faltered.</p> + +<p>"Mama, you know how we would stand behind you—how +anxious we are to share whatever's worrying +you!" Alice went on, pleadingly. "Can't you—I'm +not busy like Annie, or young like Leslie, and Chris is +your man of business, after all! Can't you tell us about +it? Two heads—three heads," said Alice, smiling +through a sudden mist of tears, "are better than one!"</p> + +<p>"Why," Mrs. Melrose stammered, with a rather feeble +attempt at lightness, "have I been acting like a person +with something on her mind? It's nothing, children, +nothing at all. Don't bother your dear, generous hearts +about it another second!"</p> + +<p>And she looked from one to another with a gallant +smile.</p> + +<p>Chris eyed his wife with a faint, hopeless movement +of the head, and Alice correctly interpreted it to mean +that the situation was worse instead of better.</p> + +<p>"You remember the night you sent for me, some +weeks ago, Aunt Marianna?" he ventured. Mrs. +Melrose moistened her lips, and swallowed with a dry +throat, looking at him with a sort of alert defiance.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +"I confess that I was all upset that night," she admitted, +bravely. "And to tell you children the truth, +Kate Sheridan coming upon me so unexpectedly——"</p> + +<p>"Joseph quite innocently told me that evening that +you had anticipated her coming!" Christopher said, +quietly, as she paused.</p> + +<p>"Joseph was mistaken!" Mrs. Melrose said, warmly, +with red colour beginning to burn in her soft, faded +old face. "Kate had been associated with a terrible +time in my life," she went on, almost angrily. "And +it was quite natural—or at least it seems so to me!—I +don't know what other people would feel, but to <i>me</i>——But +what are you two cross-examining me for?" she interrupted +herself to ask, with a sudden rush of tears, +as Chris looked unconvinced, and Alice still watched +her sorrowfully. "Little do you know, either of you, +what I have been through——"</p> + +<p>"Mama," entreated Alice, earnestly, "will you answer +me one question? I promise you that I won't ask +another. You know how anxious we are only to help you, +to make everything run smoothly. You know what +the family is—to us. Don't you <i>see</i> we are?" Alice +asked suddenly, seeing that the desire for sympathy +and advice was rapidly breaking up the ice that had +chilled her mother's heart for long weeks. "Won't +you tell me just this—it's about Annie, Mama. When +she was so ill in Munich. Was—was her little baby +born there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Mrs. Melrose whispered, with fascinated +eyes fixed on her daughter's face.</p> + +<p>Alice, ashen faced, fell back against her pillows +without speaking.</p> + +<p>"Kate Sheridan brought the child home," Chris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>topher +stated, rather than asked, very quietly. His +mother-in-law looked at him apathetically.</p> + +<p>"Kate—yes!"</p> + +<p>"Does Annie know it, Mama?" Alice whispered, +after a silence.</p> + +<p>"Annie? Oh, my God, no!" The mother's voice +rose almost to a wail. "Oh, Chris—Alice—if you love +me, Annie must not know! So proud, so happy; +and she would never bear it! I know her—I know her! +She would kill herself before——"</p> + +<p>"Darling, you must be quiet!" Alice said, commandingly. +"No one shall know it. What we do for this +child shall be done for—well, our cousin. Chris will +help you manage everything, and no one shall ever +suspect it from me. It will all work out right, you'll +see. Other people aren't watching us, as we always +think they are; it's nobody's business if a cousin of ours +suddenly appears in the family. No one would dare +whisper one word against the Melroses. Only be +quiet, Mama darling, and don't worry. Now that +we know it, we will never, never allude to it again, will +we, Chris? You can trust us."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose had sunk back into her chair; her face +was putty-coloured, beads of water stood on her forehead.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the relief—the relief!" she kept whispering, as +she clung to Alice's hand. "Alice, for the sake of the +name—dear—for all our sakes!——"</p> + +<p>"Now, if you two girls will take my advice!" Christopher +suggested, cheerfully, "you'll stop talking about +all this, and let it wait until to-morrow. Then we'll +consult, and see just what proposition we can make to +little Miss Sheridan, and what's best to be done. Alice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +why don't you go over that wedding list of Leslie's +with your mother? And ring for dinner. I'm going +to dress."</p> + +<p>"We will!" Alice agreed, sensibly. "As a family +we've always faced things courageously. We're fighters—we +Melroses—and we'll stand together!"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">This</span> was on Friday, and it was on the following +Monday that Wolf and Rose Sheridan came home to +find news awaiting them. The day before had been +surprisingly sunny and sweet, and Wolf and Harry +Redding had taken the girls to Newark, where Wolf's +motor-car had been stored all winter, and they had +laughed, and joked, and chattered all the way like the +care-free young things they were. Mrs. Sheridan, +urged to join them, had pleaded business: she had +promised old Mrs. Melrose to go and see her. So she +had left them at the church door, after Mass, and they +had gone their way rejoicing in sunshine and warm +breezes, a part of the streaming holiday crowds that +were surging and idling along the drying pavements.</p> + +<p>Wolf was neither of an age nor type for piety, but +to-day he had prayed that this little Norma kneeling +beside him, with the youth and fire and audacity shining +in her face even while she prayed, might turn that +same mysterious and solemn smile upon him again +some day, as his wife. And all day long, as she danced +along by his side, as she eagerly debated the question +of luncheon, as she enslaved the aged coloured man in +the garage, the new thrill of which he had only recently +become so pleasantly conscious, stirred in his heart, +and whatever she touched, or said, or looked, was +beautified almost beyond recognition.</p> + +<p>He had thought, coming home Monday night, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +he and she would take a little walk, in the lingering +dusk of the cool spring evening, and perhaps see the +twelfth installment of "The Stripe-Faced Terror," +which was playing in the near-by moving-picture house.</p> + +<p>But he found her in a new mood, almost awed with +an unexpected ecstasy in which he had no part—would +never have a part. She and Aunt Kate had been to +see Mrs. Melrose again.</p> + +<p>"And, Wolf, what do you think! They want me to +go live there—with the Liggetts, to help with lists and +things for Leslie's wedding. Mrs. Melrose kissed me, +Wolf, and said—didn't she, Aunt Kate?—that I must +try to feel that I belong to them; and she was so +sweet—she put her arm about me, and said that I +must have some pretty clothes! And the car is coming +for me on Wednesday; isn't it like a dream? Oh, +Rose, if I'm thankful enough! And I'm to come back +here for dinner once a week, and of course you and +Rose are to come there! Oh, Rose, but I wish it was +us both—I wish it was you, you're so good!"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have it, Norma," Rose said, in her +honest, pleasant voice. "You know I'd feel like a fool."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I am so happy!" And Norma, who had +gotten into Aunt Kate's lap, as the marvellous narrative +progressed, dug her face into Aunt Kate's motherly +soft shoulder, and tightened her arms about her neck, +and cried a little, for sheer joy.</p> + +<p>But Wolf said almost nothing, and when he went to +wash his hands for supper he went slowly, and found +himself staring absently at the towel, and stopping +short in the hall, still staring. He seemed himself at +dinner, and his mother, at first watching him anxiously, +could resume her meal, and later, could fall asleep, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +the confident hope that it would all come right, after +all. But Wolf slipped from the house after awhile, +and walked the streets until almost dawn.</p> + +<p>It was almost dawn, too when the old mistress of the +Melrose mansion fell asleep. She had called Regina +more than once, she had tried the effect of reading, and +of hot milk, and of a cold foot-bath. But still the +crowded, over-furnished room was filled with ghosts, +and still she watched them, pleaded with them, blamed +them.</p> + +<p>"I've done all I could!" she whispered at last, into the +heavy dark before the dawn. "It isn't my fault if they +think she's Annie's child! I've never said so—it was +Alice and Chris who said so. Annie and Leslie will +never know anything more, and the girl herself need +never know anything at all. Perhaps, as Kate said +yesterday, it will all work out right, this way! At +least it's all we can do now!"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">So it</span> came about quite naturally that the little unknown +cousin of the Melroses was made a familiar +figure in their different family groups, and friends of +the house grew accustomed to finding pretty little +Norma Sheridan lunching with Leslie, reading beside +Alice's couch in the late summer afternoons, or amusing +and delighting the old head of the family in a hundred +charming ways. Norma called Mrs. Melrose +"Aunt Marianna" now, as Chris and Acton did. She +did not understand the miracle, it remained a marvel +still, but it was enough that it continued to deepen +and spread with every enchanted hour.</p> + +<p>She had longed—what girl in Biretta's Bookstore +did not?—to be rich, and to move and have her +being "in society." And now she had her wish, a +hundred times fulfilled, and of course she was utterly +and absolutely happy.</p> + +<p>That is, except for the momentary embarrassments +and jealousies and uncertainties, and for sometimes +being bored, she thought that she might consider herself +happy. And there were crumpled rose-leaves +everywhere! she reminded herself sternly. She—Norma +Sheridan—could spend more money upon the +single item of shoes, for example, than Miss Smith, +head of Biretta's Bookshop, could earn in a whole +long year of hot months and cold, of weary days and +headachy days.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +That part of it was "fun", she admitted to herself. +The clothes were fun, the boxes and boxes and +boxes that came home for her, the petticoats and +stockings, the nightgowns heavy with filet lace, and +the rough boots for tramping and driving, and the +silk and satin slippers for the house. Nothing disappointing +there! Norma never would forget the ecstasies +of those first shopping trips with Aunt Marianna. +Did she want them?—the beaded bag, the woolly scarf, +the little saucy hat, were all to be sent to Miss Sheridan, +please. Norma lost her breath, and laughed, and caught +it again and lost it afresh. They had so quickly dropped +the little pretence that she was to make herself useful, +these wonderful and generous Melroses; they had so +soon forgotten everything except that she was Leslie's +age, and to be petted and spoiled as if she had been another +Leslie!</p> + +<p>And now, after more than half a year, she knew that +they liked her; that all of them liked her in their +varying degrees. Old Mrs. Melrose and Alice—Mrs. +Christopher Liggett—were most warmly her champions, +perhaps, but Leslie was too unformed a character to be +definitely hostile, and the little earlier jealousies and +misunderstandings were blown away long ago, and +even the awe-inspiring Annie had shown a real friendliness +of late. Acton Liggett and Hendrick von +Behrens were always kind and admiring, and Norma +had swiftly captivated Annie's little boys. But of +them all, she still liked Chris Liggett the best, and felt +nearest Chris even when he scolded her, or hurt her +feelings with his frank advice. And she knew that +Chris thoroughly liked her, in spite of the mistakes +that she was continually making, and the absurd ways<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +in which her ignorance and strangeness still occasionally +betrayed her.</p> + +<p>It had been a time full of mistakes, of course. Chris +often told her that she had more brains in her little +finger than most of the girls of her set had in their whole +bodies, but that had not saved her. If she was pretty, +they were all pretty, too. If she wore beautiful clothes, +they wore clothes just as beautiful, and with more assurance. +If her wit was quick, and her common sense +and human experience far greater than theirs, these +were just the qualities they neither needed nor trusted. +They spoke their own language, the language of youthful +arrogance and ignorance, the language of mutual +compliments and small personalities, and Norma could +not speak this tongue any more than she could join +them when they broke easily into French or German +or Italian. She could ride, because she was not afraid +of the mild-mannered cobs that were used at the riding +school and in the park, but she knew little of correct +posture and proper handling of reins. She could swim, +as Wolf had taught her, in the old river years ago, +but she knew nothing of the terms and affectations of +properly taught swimming. When she went to see +Aunt Kate, she was almost ashamed of the splendour +of her clothing and the utter luxury of the life she led, +but with Leslie and her friends she often felt herself +what perhaps they thought her, an insignificant little +poor relation of the Melroses, who had appeared from +nobody knew where, and might return unchallenged +at any moment to her original obscurity.</p> + +<p>This phase of the new life was disappointing, and +Norma realized herself that she spent a quite disproportionate +amount of time in thinking about it. Wasn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +it enough, she would ask herself impatiently, to be +one of them at all, to see one's picture in the fashionable +weeklies, as a member of the family, at the Liggett-Melrose +wedding; to have clothes and motor-cars, and +a bedroom that was like a picture; to know Newport +at first-hand; to have cruised for a week in the Craigies' +yacht, and have driven to Quebec and back in the +Von Behrens' car? A year ago, she reminded herself, +it would have seemed Paradise to have had even a +week's freedom from the bookshop; now, she need never +step into Biretta's again!</p> + +<p>But it was not enough, and Norma would come impatiently +to the end of her pondering with the same +fretted sense of dissatisfaction. It was not enough +to be tremulously praised by old Aunt Marianna, to +be joked by Chris, greeted by Alice, his wife, with a +friendly smile. Norma wanted to belong to this life, to +be admired and sought by Leslie, rather than endured; +to have the same easy familiarity with Duers, and +Alexanders, and Rutgers that Leslie had.</p> + +<p>As was quite natural, she and Leslie had eyed each +other, from the very beginning, somewhat as rivals. +But Leslie, even then preparing for her marriage, had +so obviously held all the advantages, that her vague +resentment and curiosity concerning the family's +treatment of the unknown newcomer were brief. If +Aunt Alice liked Norma to come in and talk books and +write notes, if Chris chose to be gallant, if Grandma +lavished an unusual affection upon this new protégée, +well, it robbed Leslie of nothing, after all.</p> + +<p>But with Norma it was different. She was brought +into sharp contact with another girl, only slightly her +senior, who had everything that this new turn of for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>tune +had given Norma herself, and a thousand times +more. Norma saw older women, the important and +influential matrons of the social world, paying court to +the promised wife of Acton Liggett. Norma knew +that while Alice and Chris were always attentive to her +own little affairs, the solving of Leslie's problems they +regarded as their own sacred obligation. Norma +had hours and hours of this new enchanting leisure to +fill; she could be at anybody's beck and call. But +Leslie, she saw, was only too busy. Everybody +was claiming Leslie; she was needed in forty places at +once; she must fly from one obligation to another, +and be thanked for sparing just a few minutes here and +there from her crowded days.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose had immediately made Norma an +allowance, an allowance so big that when Norma first +told Aunt Kate about it, it was with a sense of shame. +Norma had her check-book, and need ask nobody for +spending money. More than that her generous old +patron insisted that she use all the family charge +accounts freely: "You mustn't think of paying in any +shop!" said Aunt Marianna and Aunt Alice, earnestly.</p> + +<p>But Leslie was immensely rich in her own right. +The hour in which Norma realized this was one of real +wretchedness. Chris was her innocent informant.</p> + +<p>It was only two or three days before the wedding, a +warm day of rustling leaves and moving shadows, in +late May. The united families were still in town, but +plans for escape to the country were made for the very +day after the event. Norma had been fighting a little +sense of hurt pride because she was not to be included +among Leslie's wedding attendants. She knew that +Aunt Marianna had suggested it to Leslie, some weeks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +before, and that the bride had quite justifiably reminded +her grandmother that the eight maids, the +special maid and matron of honour, and the two little +pages, had all been already asked to perform their little +service of affection, and that a readjustment now would +be difficult. So Norma had been excluded from the +luncheons, the discussions of frocks and bouquets, +and the final exciting rehearsals in the big Park Avenue +church.</p> + +<p>She had chanced to be thinking of all these things on +the day when Chris made a casual allusion to "needing" +Leslie.</p> + +<p>"The poor kid has got a stupid morning coming +to-morrow, I'm afraid!" he had said, adding, in answer +to Norma's raised eyebrows, "Business. She has to +sign some papers, and alter her will—and I want all +that done before they go away!"</p> + +<p>"Has Leslie a will?" Norma had asked.</p> + +<p>"My child, what did you suppose she had? Leslie +inherited practically all of her Grandfather Melrose's +estate. At least, her father, Theodore, did, and Leslie +gets it direct through him. Of course your Aunt Annie +got her slice, and my wife hers, but the bulk was left +to the son. Poor Teddy! he didn't get much out of it. +But during her minority the executors—of which I +happen to be one—almost doubled it for Leslie. And +to-morrow Judge Lee and I have got to go over certain +matters with her."</p> + +<p>He had been idling at the piano, while Alice dozed in +the heat, and Norma played with a magazine. Now +he had turned back to his music, and Norma had apparently +resumed her reading. But she really had been +shaken by a storm of passionate jealousy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +Jealousy is in its nature selfish, and the old Norma +of Aunt Kate's little group had not been a selfish girl. +But Norma had had a few weeks now of a world governed +by a different standard. There was no necessity +here, none of the pure beauty of sacrifice and service +and insufficiency. This was a world of superfluities, +a standard of excess. To have merely meals, clothing, +comfort, and ease was not enough here. All these +must be had in superabundance, and she was the best +woman and the happiest who had gowns she could +not wear, jewels lying idle, money stored away in +banks, and servants standing about uselessly for hours, +that the momentary needs of them might be instantly +met.</p> + +<p>The poison of this creed had reached Norma, in +spite of herself. She was young, and she had always +been beloved in her own group for what she honestly +gave of cheer and service and friendship. It hurt her +that nobody needed what she could give now, and she +hated the very memory of Leslie's wedding.</p> + +<p>But when that was over, Mrs. Melrose had taken her +to Newport, whither Alice was carefully moved every +June. Leslie was gone now, and Norma free from +pricking reminders of her supremacy, and as old +friends of Mrs. Melrose began to include her in the +summer's merrymaking, she had some happy times. +But even here the cloven hoof intruded.</p> + +<p>Norma had always imagined this group as being full +of friendly women and admiring men, as offering her a +hundred friendships where the old life had offered one. +She discovered slowly, and with pained surprise, that +although there were plenty of girls, they were not +especially anxious for intimacy with her, and that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +men she met were not, somehow, "real." They were +absorbed in amusement, polo and yachting, they +moved about a great deal, and they neither had, nor +desired to have, any genuine work or interest in life. +She began to see Leslie's wisdom in making an early +and suitable marriage. As a matron, Leslie was established; +she could entertain, she had dignified duties +and interests, and while Norma felt awkward and +bashful in asking young men to dine with Aunt Marianna, +Acton brought his friends to his home, and Leslie +had her girl friends there, and the whole thing was +infinitely simpler and pleasanter.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Norma</span> had indeed chanced to make one girl friend, +and one of whom Leslie and Alice, and even Annie, +heartily approved. Caroline, the seventeen-year-old +daughter of the Peter Craigies, was not a débutante +yet, but she would be the most prominent, because the +richest, of them all next winter. Caroline was a heavy-lidded, +slow-witted girl, whose chief companions in life +had been servants, foreign-born governesses, and music-masters. +Norma had been seated next to her at the +international tennis tournament, and had befriended +the squirming and bashful Caroline from sheer goodness +of heart. They had criticized the players, and Caroline +had laughed the almost hysteric, shaken laugh that +so worried her mother, and had blurted confidences to +Norma in her childish way.</p> + +<p>The next day there had been an invitation for Norma +to lunch with Caroline, and Mrs. von Behrens had +promptly given another luncheon for both girls. +Norma was pleased, for a few weeks, with her first +social conquest, but after that Caroline became a dead +weight upon her. She hated the flattery, the inanities, +the utter dulness of the great Craigie mansion, and she +began to have a restless conviction that time spent with +Caroline was time lost.</p> + +<p>The friendship had cost her dear, too. Norma +hated, even months later to remember just what she +had paid for it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +In August a letter from Rose had reached her at +Newport, announcing Rose's approaching marriage. +Harry Redding's sister Mary was engaged to a most +satisfactory young man of Italian lineage, one Joe +Popini, and Mrs. Redding would hereafter divide her +time between the households of her daughter and her son. +Harry, thus free to marry, had persuaded Rose to wait +no longer; the event was to be on a Monday not quite +two weeks ahead, and Norma was please, <i>please</i>, <span class="smcap">please</span> +to come down as soon as she could.</p> + +<p>Norma had read this letter with a sensation of pain +at her heart. She felt so far away from them nowadays; +she felt almost a certain reluctance to dovetail this +life of softness and perfume and amusement in upon +the old life. But she would go. She would go, of +course!</p> + +<p>And then she had suddenly remembered that on the +Monday before Rose's wedding, the Craigies' splendid +yacht was to put to sea for a four- or five-days' cruise, +and that Caroline had asked her to go—the only other +young person besides the daughter of the house. And +great persons were going, visiting nobility from England, +a young American Crœsus and his wife, a tenor from +the Metropolitan. Annie had been delighted with +this invitation; even Leslie, just returned from California +and Hawaii, had expressed an almost surprised +satisfaction in the Craigies' friendliness.</p> + +<p>If they got back Friday night, then Norma could go +down to the city early Saturday morning, and have +two days with Rose and Aunt Kate. But if the yacht +did not return until Saturday—well, even then there +would be time. She and Rose could get through +a tremendous lot of talking in twenty-four hours.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +And the voyage certainly would not be prolonged over +Saturday, for had not Mrs. Craigie said, in Norma's +hearing, that Saturday was the very latest minute to +which she could postpone the meeting for the big +charity lawn party?</p> + +<p>So Norma and the enslaved Caroline continued to +plan for their sea trip, and Norma commissioned Chris +to order Rose's wedding present at Gorham's.</p> + +<p>Mrs. von Behrens had been a trifle distant with the +newcomer in the family until now, but the day before +the cruise began she extended just a little of her royal +graciousness toward Norma. Like Leslie, Norma admired +her Aunt Annie enormously, and hungered for her +most casual word.</p> + +<p>"You've plenty of frocks, Kiddie?" asked Annie. +"One uses them up at the rate of about three a day!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!"—Norma widened her innocent eyes—"I've +a wardrobe trunk full of them: white skirts and white +shoes and hats!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't suppose you had them tied in a +handkerchief!" Annie had responded, with her quiet +smile. "See if that fits you!"</p> + +<p>They had been up in Mrs. von Behrens's big bedroom, +where that lady was looking at a newly arrived +box of gowns. "That" was the frail, embroidered +coat of what Norma thought the prettiest linen suit +she had ever seen.</p> + +<p>"It's charming on you, you little slender thing," +Annie had said. "The skirt will be too long; will you +pin it, Keating? And see that it goes at once to my +mother's house."</p> + +<p>Keating had pinned, admired. And Norma, turning +herself before the mirror, with her eyes shy with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +pleasure and gratitude, had known that she was gaining +ground.</p> + +<p>So they had started radiantly on the cruise. But +after the first few miraculous hours of gliding along +beneath the gay awnings that had all been almost +astonishingly disappointing, too. Caroline, to begin +with, was a dreadful weight upon her young guest. +Caroline for breakfast, luncheon, and dinner; Caroline +retiring and rising, became almost hateful. Caroline +always wanted to do something, when Norma could +have dreamed and idled in her deck chair by the hour. +It must be deck golf or deck tennis, or they must go up +and tease dignified and courteous Captain Burns, +"because he was such an old duck," or they must +harass one or two of the older people into bridge. +Norma did not play bridge well, and she hated it, +and hated Caroline's way of paying for her losses +almost more than paying them herself.</p> + +<p>Norma could not lie lazily with her book, raising +her eyes to the exquisite beauty of the slowly tipping +sea, revelling in coolness and airiness, because Caroline, +fussing beside her, had never read a book through in +her life. The guest did not know, even now, that +Caroline had been a mental problem for years, that +Caroline's family had consulted great psycho-analysts +about her, and had watched the girl's self-centredness, +her odd slyness, her hysteric emotions, with deep +concern. She did not know, even now, that the +Cragies were anxious to encourage this first reaching +out, in Caroline, toward a member of her own sex, +and that her fancies for members of the opposite sex—for +severely indifferent teachers, for shocked and +unresponsive chauffeurs—were among the family prob<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>lems, +a part of the girl's unfortunate under-development. +Caroline's family was innocently surprised to realize +that her mind had not developed under the care of +maids who were absorbed in their own affairs, and +foreigners who would not have been free to attend her +had they not been impecunious and unsuccessful in +more lucrative ways. They had left her to Mademoiselles +and Fräuleins quite complacently, but they did +not wish her to be like these too-sullen or too-vivacious +ladies.</p> + +<p>So they welcomed her friendship with Norma, and +Caroline's passionate desire to be with her friend was +not to find any opposition on the part of her own family. +Little Miss Sheridan had an occasional kindly word +from Caroline's mother, a stout woman, middle-aged +at thirty-five, and good-natured smiles from Caroline's +father, a well-groomed young man. And socially, +this meant that the Melroses' young protégée was made.</p> + +<p>But Norma did not realize all this. She only knew +that all the charm and beauty of the yacht were wasted +on her. Everyone ate too much, talked too much, +played, flirted, and dressed too much. The women +seldom made their appearance until noon; in the afternoons +there was bridge until six, and much squabbling +and writing of checks on the forward deck, with iced +drinks continually being brought up from the bar. +At six the women loitered off to dress for dinner, but +the men went on playing for another half hour. The +sun sank in a blaze of splendour; the wonderful twilight +fell; but the yacht might have been boxed up in an +armoury for all that her passengers saw of the sea.</p> + +<p>After the elaborate dinner, with its ices and hot rolls, +its warm wines and chilled champagne, cards began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +again, and unless the ocean was so still that they might +dance, bridge continued until after midnight.</p> + +<p>Norma's happiest times had been when she arose +early, at perhaps seven, and after dressing noiselessly +in their little bathroom, crept upstairs without waking +Caroline. Sunshine would be flooding the ocean, or +perhaps the vessel would be nosing her way through +a luminous fog—but it was always beautiful. The +decks, drying in the soft air, would be ordered, inviting, +deserted. Great waves of smooth water would flow +evenly past, curving themselves with lessening ripples +into the great even circle of the sea. A gentle breeze +would stir the leaves of the potted plants on the deck +and flap the fringes of the awnings.</p> + +<p>Norma, hanging on the railing, would look down +upon a group of maids and stewards laughing and +talking on the open deck below. These were happy, +she would reflect, animated by a thousand honest +emotions that never crept to the luxurious cabins +above. They would be waiting for breakfast, all +freshly aproned and brushed, all as pleased with the +<i>Seagirl</i> as if they had been her owners.</p> + +<p>On the fifth day, Friday, she had been almost sick +with longing to hear some mention of going back. +Surely—surely, she reasoned, they had all said that +they must get back on Friday night! If the plan +had changed, Norma had determined to ask them +to run into harbour somewhere, and put her on shore. +She was so tired of Caroline, so tired of wasting time, +so headachy from the heavy meals and lack of exercise!</p> + +<p>Late on Friday afternoon some idle remark of her +hostess had assured her that the yacht would not make +Greble light until Monday. They were ploughing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +north now, to play along the Maine coast; the yachting +party was a great success, and nobody wanted to go +home.</p> + +<p>Norma, goaded out of her customary shyness, had +pleaded her cousin's marriage. Couldn't they run into +Portland—or somewhere?—and let her go down by +train? But Caroline had protested most affectionately +and noisily against this, and Caroline's mother said +sweetly that she couldn't think of letting Norma do that +alone—Annie von Behrens would never forgive her! +However, she would speak to Captain Burns, and see +what could be done. Anyway, Mrs. Craigie had +finished, with her comfortable laugh, Norma had only +to tell her cousin that she was out with friends on their +yacht, and they had been delayed. Surely that was +excuse enough for any one?</p> + +<p>It was with difficulty that Norma had kept the tears +out of her eyes. She had not wanted an excuse to stay +away from Rose's wedding. Her heart had burned with +shame and anger and helplessness. She could hardly +believe, crying herself to sleep on Friday night, that +two whole days were still to spare before Monday, and +that she was helpless to use them. Her mind worked +madly, her thoughts rushing to and fro with a desperation +worthy an actual prisoner.</p> + +<p>On Saturday evening, after a day of such homesickness +and heavy-heartedness as she had never known +before in her life, she had realized that they were in +some port, lying a short half mile from shore.</p> + +<p>It was about ten o'clock, warm and star-lighted; there +was no moon. Norma had slipped from the deck, +where Caroline was playing bridge, and had gone to +the lowered gang-plank. Captain Burns was there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +going over what appeared to be invoices, with the +head steward.</p> + +<p>"Captain," Norma had said, her heart pounding, +"can't you put me on shore? I must be in New York +to-morrow—it's very important! If I get a coat, will +you let me go in when you go?"</p> + +<p>He had measured her with his usual polite, impersonal +gaze.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sheridan, I really could not do it, Miss! If +it was a telegram, or something of that sort——But +if anything was to happen to you, Miss, it would be—it +really would be most unfortunate!"</p> + +<p>Norma had stood still, choking. And in the starlight +he had seen the glitter of tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you put it to Mrs. Craigie, Miss? I'm +sure she'd send someone—one of the maids——"</p> + +<p>But Norma shook her head. It would anger Caroline, +and perhaps Caroline's mother, and Annie, too, to +have her upset the cruise by her own foolish plans. +There was no hope of her hostess's consent. What!—send +a girl of eighteen down to New York for dear +knows what fanciful purpose, without a hint from parent +or guardian? Mrs. Craigie knew the modern girl far +too well for that, even if it had not been personally +extremely inconvenient to herself to spare a maid. +They were rather short of maids, for two or three of +them had been quite ill.</p> + +<p>The launch had put off, with Captain Burns in the +stern. Norma had stood watching it, with her heart +of lead. Oh, to be running away—flying—on the +train—in the familiar streets! They could forgive her +later—or never——</p> + +<p>"Norma, aren't you naughty?" Caroline had in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>terrupted +her thoughts, and had slipped a hand through +her arm. "Buoso is going to sing—do come in! My +dear, you know that last hand? Well, we made it——!"</p> + +<p>The next two days were the slowest, the hardest, +the bitterest of Norma's life. She felt that nobody +had ever had to bear so aching a heart as hers, as the +most beautiful yacht in the world skimmed over the +blue ocean, and the sun shone down on her embroidered +linen suit, and her white shoes, and the pearl ring that +Caroline had given her for her birthday.</p> + +<p>What were they doing at Aunt Kate's? What were +they saying as the hours went by? At what stage was +the cake—and the gown? Was Rose really to be +married to-morrow—to-day?</p> + +<p>In New Brunswick she had managed to send a long +wire, full of the disappointment and affection and +longing she truly felt, and after that she had been happier. +But it was a very subdued little Norma who +had come quietly into Aunt Kate's kitchen three weeks +later, and had relieved her over-charged heart with a +burst of tears on Aunt Kate's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate had been kind, kind as she always was +to the adored foster-child. And Norma had stayed +to dinner, and made soft and penitent eyes at Wolf +until the agonized resolutions of the past lonely months +had all melted out of his heart again, and they had +all gone over to Rose's, for five minutes of kissing and +crying, before the big car came to carry Norma away.</p> + +<p>So the worst of that wound was healed, and life +could become bright and promising to Norma once +more. Autumn was an invigorating season, anyway, +full of hope and enchantment, and Caroline Craigie, +by what Norma felt to be a special providence, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +visiting her grandmother in Baltimore for an indefinite +term. The truth was that there was a doctor +there whose advice was deemed valuable to Caroline, +but Norma did not know that. Norma did not know +the truth, either, about Mrs. von Behrens's sudden +graciousness toward her, but it made her happy. +Annie had become friendly and hospitable toward +the newcomer in the family for only one reason. As a +social dictator, she was accustomed to be courted +and followed by scores of women who desired her friendship +for the prestige it gave them. Annie was extremely +autocratic in this respect, and could snub, +chill, and ignore even the most hopeful aspirants to her +favour, with the ease of long practice. It made no +difference to Annie that dazzling credentials were produced, +or that past obscurity was more than obliterated +by present glory.</p> + +<p>"One truly must be firm," Annie frequently said. +"It devolves upon a few of us, as an actual duty, to see +that society is maintained in its true spirit. Let the +bars down once——!"</p> + +<p>Norma, a negligible factor in Annie's life when she +first appeared, had quite innocently become a problem +during that first summer. While not a Melrose, she +was a member of the Melrose family, making her home +with one of the daughters of the house. Annie might +ignore Norma, but there were plenty of women, and +men, too, who saw in the girl a valuable social lever. +To become intimate with little Miss Sheridan meant +that one might go up to her, at teas and dinners, while +she was with Mrs. Melrose, or young Mrs. Liggett, +or even Mrs. von Behrens herself, in a casual, friendly +manner that indicated, to a watching world, a comforta<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>ble +footing with the family. Norma was consequently +selected for social attention.</p> + +<p>Annie saw this immediately, and when all the families +were settled in town again, she decided to take Norma's +social training in hand, as she had done Leslie's, and +make sure that no undesirable cockle was sown among +the family fields. She would have done exactly the +same if Norma had been the least attractive of girls, +but Norma fancied that her own qualities had won +Annie's reluctant friendship, and was accordingly +pleased.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Eight</span> months later, in the clear sunshine of a late +autumn morning, a slender young woman came down +the steps of the Melrose house, after an hour's call on +the old mistress, and turned briskly toward Fifth +Avenue. In figure, in carriage, and even in the expression +of her charming and animated face, she was +different from the girl who had come to that same house +to make a call with Aunt Kate, on the day after the +big blizzard, yet it was the same Norma Sheridan who +nodded a refusal to the driver of the big motor-car +that was waiting, and set off by herself for her walk.</p> + +<p>The old Norma, straight from Biretta's Bookshop, +had been pretty in plain serge and shabby fur. But +this Norma—over whose soft thick belted coat a +beautiful silver-fox skin was linked, whose heavy, +ribbed silk hose disappeared into slim, flat, shining +pumps that almost caressed the slender foot, whose +dark hair had the lustre that comes from intelligent +care, and whose handsome little English hat was the +only one of its special cut in the world—was a conspicuously +attractive figure even in a world of well-groomed +girls, and almost deserved to be catalogued as a beauty. +From the hat to the shoes she was palpably correct, +and Norma knew, and never could quite sufficiently +revel in the knowing, that the blouse and the tailored +skirt that were under the coat were correct, too, and +that under blouse and skirt were cobwebby linens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +and perfumed ribbons and sheerest silks that were +equally perfect in their way. Leslie's bulldog, pulling +on his strap, kept her moving rapidly, and girl and +dog exacted from almost all the passers-by that tribute +of glances to which Norma was now beginning to be +accustomed.</p> + +<p>She was walking to Mrs. von Behrens's after an +unusually harmonious luncheon with old Mrs. Melrose. +This was one of Norma's happy times, and she +almost danced in the crisp November air that promised +snow even now. Leslie had asked her to come informally +to tea; Annie had sent a message that she +wished to see Norma; and Alice, who, like all invalids, +had dark moods of which only her own household +was aware, had been her nicest self for a week. Then +Christopher was coming home to-night, and Norma +had missed him for the three weeks he had been away, +duck-shooting in the South, and liked the thought +that he was homeward bound.</p> + +<p>She found Leslie with Annie to-day, in Annie's +big front bedroom. Leslie was in a big chair by the +bed where Annie, with some chalky preparation pasted +in strips on those portions of her face that were most +inclined to wrinkle, was lying flat. Her hair, rubbed +with oils and packed in tight bands, was entirely invisible, +and over her arms, protruding from a gorgeous +oriental wrap, loose chamois gloves were drawn. Annie +had been to a luncheon, and was to appear at two teas, +a dinner, and the theatre, and she was making the +most of an interval at home. She looked indescribably +hideous, as she stretched a friendly hand toward +Norma, and nodded toward a chair.</p> + +<p>"Look at the child's colour—Heavens! what it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +to be young," said Annie. "Sit down, Norma. How's +Alice?"</p> + +<p>"Lovely!" Norma said, pulling off her gloves. +"She had a wire from Chris, and he gets back to-night. +I had luncheon with your mother, and I am to go to stay +with her for two or three nights, anyway. But Aunt +Alice said that she would like to have me back again +next week for her two teas."</p> + +<p>"How old are you, Norma?" Annie asked, suddenly. +Any sign of interest on her part always thrilled the +girl, who answered, flushing:</p> + +<p>"Nineteen; twenty in January, Aunt Annie."</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking, if you'd like it, of giving you a little +tea here next month," Annie said, lazily. "You know +quite enough of the youngsters now to have a thoroughly +nice time, and afterward we'll have a dinner +here, and they can dance!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Annie—if I'd like it!" Norma exclaimed, +rosy with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"You would?" Annie asked, looking at a hand from +which she had drawn the glove, and smiling slightly. +"It means that you don't go anywhere in the meantime. +You're not out until then, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I won't be going anywhere, anyway," +Norma conceded, contentedly.</p> + +<p>"You'll have a flood of invitations fast enough after +the tea," Annie assured her, pleased at her excitement, +"and until then, you can simply say that you are not +going out yet."</p> + +<p>"Chris said he might take me to the opera on the +first night; I've never been," Norma said, timidly. +"But I can explain to him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that won't count!" Annie assured her, care<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>lessly. +"We'll all be there, of course! Have you worn +the corn-coloured gown yet?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Aunt Annie!"</p> + +<p>"Well, keep it for that night. And you and Chris +might——No, he'll want to dine with Alice, and she'll +want to see you in your new gown. I was going to say +that you might dine here, but you'd better not."</p> + +<p>"I think Leslie and Acton are going to be asked to +dine with us," Norma said. "Aunt Alice said something +about it!"</p> + +<p>"Well," Annie agreed indifferently. "Ring that +bell, Norma—I've got to get up! Where are you girls +going now?"</p> + +<p>"Some of the girls are coming to my house for tea," +Leslie answered, listlessly. "I've got the car here. Come +on, Norma!"</p> + +<p>"But you're not driving, Kiddie?" her aunt asked, +quickly.</p> + +<p>Leslie, who neither looked nor felt well, raised half-resentful +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I'm not driving, and I'm lying in bed mornings, +and I don't play squash, or ride horseback, or +go in for tennis!" she drawled, half angrily. "I'm +having a perfectly <i>lovely</i> time! I wish Acton had a +little of it; he wouldn't be so pleased! Makes me so +mad," grumbled Leslie, as she wandered toward the +door, busily buttoning her coat. "Grandma crying +with joy, and Aunt Alice goo-gooing at me, and +Acton——"</p> + +<p>"Come, now, be a little sport, Leslie!" her aunt urged, +affectionately, with her arm about her. "It's rotten, +of course, but after all, it does mean a lot to the Liggetts——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +"Oh, now, don't <i>you</i> begin!" Leslie protested, half-mollified, +with her parting nod. "Don't—for pity's +sake!—talk about it," she added, rudely, to Norma, +as Norma began some consolatory murmur on the +stairs. But when they were before her own fire, waiting +for the expected girls, she made Norma a rather ungracious +confidence.</p> + +<p>"I don't want Aunt Alice or any one to know it, but +if Acton Liggett thinks I am going to let him make an +absolute fool of me, he's mistaken!" Leslie said, in a +sort of smouldering resentment.</p> + +<p>"What has Acton done?" Norma asked, flattered +by the intimation of trust and not inclined to be apprehensive. +She had seen earlier differences between +the young married pair, and now, when Leslie was +physically at a disadvantage, she and Alice had agreed +that it was not unnatural that the young wife should +grow exacting and fanciful.</p> + +<p>"Acton is about the most selfish person I ever knew," +Leslie said, almost with a whimper. "Oh, yes, he is, +Norma! You don't see it—but I do! Chris knows +it, too; I've heard Chris call him down a thousand +times for it! I am just boiling at Acton; I have been +all day! He leaves everything to me, everything; +and I'm not well, now, and I can't stand it! And I'll +tell him I can't, too."</p> + +<p>"I suppose a man doesn't understand very well," +Norma ventured.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> doesn't!" Leslie said, warmly. "All Acton +Liggett thinks of is his own comfort—that's all! I do +everything for him—I pay half the expenses here, you +know, more than half, really, for I always pay for my +own clothes and Milly, and lots of other things. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +then he'll do some <i>mean</i>, ugly thing that just makes me +furious at him—and he'll walk out of the house, perfectly +calm and happy!"</p> + +<p>"He's always had his own way a good deal," Norma +who knew anything except sympathy would utterly +exasperate Leslie conceded, mildly.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Leslie agreed, flushing, and stiffening her jaw +rather ominously, "and it's just about time that he +learned that he isn't always going to have it, too! +It's very easy for him to have me do anything that +is hard and stupid——Do you suppose," she broke +off, suddenly, "that <i>I'm</i> so anxious to go to the Duers' +dinner? I wouldn't care if I never saw one of them +again!"</p> + +<p>Norma gathered that a dinner invitation from the +Duers had been the main cause of the young Liggetts' +difference, and framed a general question.</p> + +<p>"That's Saturday night?"</p> + +<p>"Friday," Leslie amended. "And what does he +do? He meets Roy Duer at the club, and says oh, no, +he can't come to the dinner Friday, but <i>Leslie</i> can! He +has promised to play bridge with the Jeromes and +that crowd. But Leslie would <i>love</i> to go! So there +I am—old lady Duer called me up the next morning, +and was so sorry Acton couldn't come! But she +would expect me at eight o'clock. It's for her daughter, +and she goes away again on Tuesday. And then"—Leslie +straightened herself on the couch, and fixed +Norma with bright, angry eyes;—"then Spooky Jerome +telephoned here, and said to tell Acton that if he +couldn't stir up a bridge party for Friday, he'd stir +up something, and for Acton to meet him at the club!"</p> + +<p>Norma laughed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +"And did you give Acton that message?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, I didn't—that was only this morning!" +Leslie said, in angry satisfaction. "I telephoned Mrs. +Duer right away, and said that Acton would be so +glad to come Friday, and if Acton Liggett doesn't like +it, he knows what he can do! You laugh," she went on +with a sort of pathetic dignity, "but don't you think +it's a rotten way for a man to treat his wife, Norma? +Don't you, honestly? There's nothing—nothing that +I don't give way in—absolutely nothing! And I +don't believe most men——Oh, hello, Doris," Leslie +broke off, gaily, as there was a stir at the door; "come +in! Come in, Vera—aren't you girls angels to come in +and see the poor old sick lady!"</p> + +<p>Norma was still lingering when Acton came home, +an hour later. She heard his buoyant voice in the +hall, and began to gather her wraps and gloves as he +came to the tea table.</p> + +<p>"Acton," Leslie said, firmly, "the bridge party is +off for Friday, and you're going to Mrs. Duer's with +me, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Whew! I can see that I'm popular in the home +circle, Norma!" Acton said, leaning over the big davenport +to kiss his wife. "How's my baby? All right, +dear, anything you say goes! I was going to cancel +the game, anyway. Look what Chris brought you, +Cutey-cute! Say, Norma, has she been getting herself +tired?"</p> + +<p>Leslie, instantly mollified, drew his cold, firm cheek +against hers, and looked sidewise toward Norma.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he the nice, big, comfy man to come home to +his mad little old wife?" she mumbled, luxuriously.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +"Yes," Acton grumbled, still half embracing her, +"but you didn't talk that way at breakfast, you little +devil!"</p> + +<p>"Am I a devil?" Leslie asked, lazily. And looking +in whimsical penitence at Norma, she added, "I <i>am</i> a +devil. But you were just as mean as you could be," +she told him, widening her eyes and shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"I know it. I felt like a dog, walking down town," +her husband admitted promptly. "I tried to telephone +but you weren't here!"</p> + +<p>"I was at Aunt Annie's," Leslie said, softly. Her +husband had slipped in beside her on the wide davenport, +and she was resting against his shoulder, and idly +kissing the little rebel lock of hair that fell across one +temple. "He's a pretty nice old husband!" she murmured, +contentedly.</p> + +<p>"And she's a pretty nice little wife, if she did call me +some mean names!" Acton returned, kissing the top of +her head without altering her position. Norma looked +at them with smiling contempt.</p> + +<p>"You're a great pair!" she conceded, indulgently.</p> + +<p>Leslie now was free to examine, with a flush and a +laugh, the microscopic pair of beaded Indian moccasins +that Chris had brought from Florida. Norma asked +about Chris.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's fine," Acton answered, "looks brown and +hard; he had a gorgeous time! He said he might be +round to see Grandma to-morrow morning!"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell her," Norma said, getting up to go. She +left them still clinging together, like a pair of little +love-birds, with peace fully restored for the time being.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose's car had been waiting for some time, +and she was whirled home through the dark and wintry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +streets without the loss of a second. Lights were +lighted everywhere now, and tempered radiance filled the +old hall as she entered it. It was just six o'clock, but +Norma knew that she and the old lady were to be alone +to-night, and she went through the long drawing-room +to the library beyond it, thinking she might find her +still lingering over the teacups. Dinner under these +circumstances was usually at seven, and frequently +Mrs. Melrose did not change her gown for it.</p> + +<p>There was lamplight in the library, but the old lady's +chair was empty, and the tea table had been cleared +away. Norma, supposing the room unoccupied, gave +a little gasp of surprise and pleasure as Chris suddenly +got to his feet among the shadows.</p> + +<p>She was so glad to see him, so much more glad than +she would have imagined herself, that for a few minutes +she merely clung tight to the two hands she had grasped, +and stood laughing and staring at him. Chris back +again! It meant so much that was pleasant and +friendly to Norma. Chris advised her, admired her, +sympathized with her; above all, she knew that he +liked her.</p> + +<p>"Chris; it's so nice to see you!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The colour came into his face, and with it an odd expression +that she had never seen there before. Without +speaking he put his arm about her, and drew her to him, +and kissed her very quietly on the mouth.</p> + +<p>"Hello, you dear little girl!" he said, freeing her, and +smiling at her, somewhat confusedly. "You're not +half so glad to see me as I am to be back! You're +looking so well, Norma," he went on, with almost his +usual manner, "and Alice tells me you are making +friends everywhere. What's the news?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +He threw himself into a large leather chair, and, +hardly knowing what she was doing, in the wild hurrying +of her senses, Norma sat down opposite him. Her +one flurried impulse was not to make a scene. Chris +was always so entirely master of a situation, so utterly +unemotional and self-possessed, that if he kissed her, +upon his return from a three-weeks' absence, it must +be a perfectly correct thing to do.</p> + +<p>Yet she felt both shaken and protestant, and it was +with almost superhuman control that she began to +carry on a casual conversation, giving her own report +upon Alice and Leslie, Acton and the world in general.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Melrose, delighted at the little attention +from her son-in-law, came smilingly in, five minutes +later, Norma escaped upstairs. She had Leslie's old +room here when she spent the night, but it was only +occasionally that Alice spared her, for her youth +and high spirits, coupled with the simplicity and enthusiasm +with which she was encountering the new +world, made her a really stimulating companion for the +sick woman.</p> + +<p>Regina came in to hook her into a simple dinner +gown, but Norma did not once address her, except +by a vague smile of greeting. Her thoughts were in a +whirl. Why had he done that? Was it just brotherly—friendliness? +He was much older than she—thirty-seven +or eight; perhaps he had felt only an older man's +kindly——</p> + +<p>But her face blazed, and she flung this explanation +aside angrily. He had no business to do it! He had +no right to do it! She was furious at him!</p> + +<p>She stood still, staring blankly ahead of her, in the +centre of the room. The memory came over her in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +wave; the odd, half-hesitating, half-confident look in +his eyes as his arms enveloped her, the faint aroma of +talcum powder and soap, the touch of his smoothly +shaven cheek.</p> + +<p>It was almost an hour later that she went cautiously +downstairs. He was gone—had been gone since half-past +six o'clock, Joseph reported. Norma went in to +dinner with Mrs. Melrose, and they talked cheerfully +of Chris's return, of Leslie and Annie.</p> + +<p>By eight o'clock, reading in Mrs. Melrose's upstairs +sitting-room, that first room that she had seen in this +big house, eight months ago, Norma began to feel just +a trifle flat. Chris Liggett was one of the most popular +men in society, in demand everywhere, spoiled by +women everywhere. He had quite casually, and perhaps +even absent-mindedly, kissed his wife's young +protégée upon meeting her after an absence, and she had +hastily leaped to conclusions worthy of a schoolgirl! +He would be about equally amused and disgusted +did he suspect them.</p> + +<p>"He likes you, you little fool," Norma said to herself, +"and you will utterly spoil everything with your +idiocy!"</p> + +<p>"What did you say, lovey?" the old lady asked, +half closing her book.</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" Norma said, laughing. She reopened +her novel, and tried to interest herself in it. But the +thought of that quarter hour in the study came back +over and over again. She came finally to the conclusion +that she was glad Chris liked her.</p> + +<p>The room was very still. A coal fire was glowing +pink and clear in the grate, and now and then the radiators +hissed softly. Norma had one big brilliant lamp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +to herself, and over the old lady's chair another glowed. +Everything was rich, soft, comfortable. Regina was +hovering in the adjoining room, folding the fat satin +comforters, turning down the transparent linen sheets +with their great scroll of monogram, and behind Regina +were Joseph and Emma, and all the others, and behind +them the great city and all the world, eager to see that +this old woman, who had given the world very little +real service in her life, should be shielded and warmed +and kept from the faintest dream of need.</p> + +<p>Money was a strange thing, Norma mused. What +should she do, if—as her shamed and vague phrase +had it—if "something happened" to Aunt Marianna, +and she was not even mentioned in her will? Of +course it was a hateful thing to think of, and a horrible +thing, sitting here opposite Aunt Marianna in the +comfortable upstairs sitting-room, but the thought +would come. Norma wished that she knew. She +would not have shortened the old lady's life by a single +second, and she would have died herself rather than +betray this thought to any one, even to Wolf—even to +Rose! But it suddenly seemed to her very unjust +that she could be picked out of Biretta's bookstore +to-day, by Aunt Marianna's pleasure, and perhaps +put back there to-morrow through no fault of her own. +They were all kind, they were all generous, but this +was not just. She wanted the delicious and self-respecting +feeling of being a young woman with "independent +means."</p> + +<p>Such evenings as this one, even in the wonderful +Melrose house, were undeniably dull. She and Rose +had often grumbled, years ago, because there were so +many of these quiet times, in between the Saturday<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +and Sunday excitements. But Norma, in those days, +had never supposed that dulness was ever compatible +with wealth and ease.</p> + +<p>"Cards?" said old Mrs. Melrose, hopefully, as the +girl made a sudden move. She loved to play patience, +but only when she had an audience. Norma, who had +just decided to give her French verbs a good hour's +attention, smiled amiably, and herself brought out the +green table. She sat watching the fall of kings and +aces, reminding her companion of at least every third +play. But her thoughts went back to Chris, and the +faint odour of powder and soap, and the touch of his +shaved cheek.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Norma</span> met Chris again no later than the following +afternoon. It was twilight in Alice's room, and she +and Norma were talking on into the gloom, discussing +the one or two guests who had chanced to come in for +tea, and planning the two large teas that Alice usually +gave some time late in November.</p> + +<p>Chris came in quietly, kissed his wife, and nodded +carelessly to Norma. The girl's sudden mad heartbeats +and creeping colour could subside together unnoticed, +for he apparently paid no attention to her, +and presently drifted to the piano, leaving the women +free to resume their conference.</p> + +<p>Alice was a person of more than a surface sweetness; +she loved harmony and serenity, and there was almost +no inclination to irritability or ugliness in her nature. +Her voice was always soothing and soft, and her patience +in the unravelling of other people's problems +was inexhaustible. Alice was, as all the world conceded, +an angel.</p> + +<p>But Norma had not been a member of her household +for eight months without realizing that Alice, like other +household angels, did not wish an understudy in the +rôle. She did not quite enjoy the nearness of another +woman who might be all sweet and generous and +peace-making, too. That was her own sacred and +peculiar right. She could gently and persistently +urge objections and find inconsistencies in any plan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +of her sister or of Norma, no matter how advantageous +it sounded, and she could adhere to a plan of her own +with a tenacity that, taken in consideration with +Alice's weak body and tender voice, was nothing less +than astonishing.</p> + +<p>Norma, lessoned in a hard school, and possessing +more than her share of adaptability and common +sense, had swiftly come to the conclusion that, since +it was not her part to adjust the affairs of her benefactors, +she might much more wisely constitute herself a +sort of Greek chorus to Alice's manipulations. Alice's +motives were always of the highest, and it was easy +to praise them in all honesty, and if sometimes the +younger woman had mentally arrived at a conclusion +long before Alice had patiently and sweetly reached it, +the little self-control was not much to pay toward the +comfort of a woman as heavily afflicted as Alice.</p> + +<p>For Norma knew in her own heart that Alice was +heavily afflicted, although the invalid herself always +took the attitude that her helplessness brought the +best part of life into her room, and shut away from +her the tediousness and ugliness of the world.</p> + +<p>"'Aïda' two weeks from to-night!" Alice said this +evening, with her sympathetic smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Alice—if you could go! Didn't you +love it?"</p> + +<p>"Love the opera? Do you hear her, Chris? But +I didn't love people talking all about me—and they +will do it, you know! And that makes one furious!"</p> + +<p>"I see you getting furious," Norma observed, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You don't know me! But I was a bashful, adoring +sort of little person, on my first night——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +"Yes, you were," Chris teased her, over a lazy +ripple of thirds. "She was such a bashful little person +at the Mardi Gras dance she promised Artie Peyton +her first cotillion the following season."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Alice—you didn't!"</p> + +<p>Alice's rather colourless face flushed happily, and she +half lowered her lids.</p> + +<p>"Chris thinks that is a great story on me. As a +matter of fact, I did do that; I was just childish +enough. But I can't think how the story got out, for +I was desperately ashamed of it."</p> + +<p>"I told Aunt Annie and Leslie to-day that you wanted +the Liggetts to dine here that night," Norma said, +suddenly. Instantly she realized that she had made a +mistake. And there was no one in the world whose +light reproof hurt her as Alice's did.</p> + +<p>"You—you gave my invitation to Leslie?" Alice +asked, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well—not quite that. But I told her that you had +said that you meant to ask them," Norma replied, +uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"But, Norma, I did not ask you to mention it." +Alice was even smiling, but she seemed a little puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry—if you didn't want me to!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't that. But one feels that one——"</p> + +<p>"What is Norma sorry about?" Chris asked, coming +back to the fire. "Norma, you're up against a terrible +tribunal, here! Alice has been known—well, +even to give new hats to the people who make her +angry!"</p> + +<p>This fortunate allusion to an event now some months +old entirely restored Alice's good humour. Norma +had accepted a certain almost-new hat from Leslie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +just before the wedding, and Alice, burning with her +secret suspicion as to Norma's parentage, and in the +first flush of her affection for the girl, had told Norma +that in her opinion Leslie should not have offered it. +It was not for Norma to take any patronage from her +cousin, Alice said to herself. But Norma's distress +at having disappointed Alice was so fresh and honest +that the episode had ended with Alice's presenting her +with a stunning new hat, to wipe out the terrible effect +of her mild criticism.</p> + +<p>"You're a virago," said Chris, seating himself near +his wife. "Tell me what you've been doing all day. +Am I in for that dinner at Annie's to-night? I wish +I could stay here and gossip with you girls."</p> + +<p>"Dearest, you'd get so stupid, tied here to me, that +you wouldn't know who was President of the United +States!" Alice smiled. "Yes, I promised you to Annie +two weeks ago. To-morrow night Norma goes to +Leslie, and you and I have dinner all alone, so console +yourself with that."</p> + +<p>"<i>Très bien</i>," Christopher agreed. And as if the +phrase suggested it, he went on to test Norma's French. +Norma was never self-conscious with him, and in a +few seconds he and Alice were laughing at her earnest +absurdities. When husband and wife went on into a +conversation of their own, Norma sat back idly, conscious +that the atmosphere was always easy and pleasant +when Chris was at home, there were no petty tensions +and no sensitive misconstructions while Chris was +talking. Sometimes with Annie and Alice, and even +with Leslie, Norma could be rapidly brought to the +state of feeling prickly all over, afraid to speak, and +equally uncomfortable in silence. But Chris always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +smoothed her spirit into utter peace, and reëstablished +her sense of proportion, her sense of humour.</p> + +<p>Neither he nor Alice noticed her when she presently +went away to change her gown for dinner, but when +she came out of her room, half an hour later, Chris +was just coming up to his. Their rooms were on the +same floor—his the big front room, and hers one of the +sunny small ones at the back of the house. Norma's +and that of Miss Slater, Alice's nurse, were joined by a +bathroom; Chris had his own splendid dressing-room +and bath, fitted, like his bedroom, with rugs and chests +and highboys worthy of a museum.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to be late, Chris?" Norma asked, +when they met at the top of the stairs. Fresh from a +bath, with her rich dark hair pushed back in two shining +wings from her smooth forehead, and her throat rising +white and soft from the frills of a black lacy gown, she +was the incarnation of youth and sweetness as she +looked up at him. "Seven o'clock!" she reminded him.</p> + +<p>For answer he surprised her by catching her hand, +and staring gravely down at her.</p> + +<p>"Were you angry at me, Norma?" he asked, in a +quiet, businesslike voice.</p> + +<p>"Angry?" she echoed, surprised. But her colour +rose. "No, Chris. Why should I be?"</p> + +<p>"There is no reason why you should be, of course," +he answered, simply, almost indifferently. And immediately +he went by her and into his room.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">On the</span> memorable night of her first grand opera +Norma and Chris dined at Mrs. von Behrens's. It +was Alice who urged the arrangement, urged it quite +innocently, as she frequently did the accidental pairing +of Norma and Chris, because her mother was going +for a week to Boston, the following day, and they +wanted an evening of comfortable talk together.</p> + +<p>Norma, with Freda and Miss Slater as excited accomplices, +laid out the new corn-coloured gown at +about five o'clock in the afternoon, laid beside it the +stockings and slippers that exactly matched it in colour, +and hung over the foot of her bed the embroidered +little stays that were so ridiculously small and so +unnecessarily beautiful. On a separate chair was +spread the big furred wrap of gold and brown brocade, +the high carriage shoes, and the long white gloves to +which the tissue paper still was clinging. The orchids +that Annie had given Norma that morning were standing +in a slender vase on the bureau, and as a final touch +the girl, regarding these preparations with a sort of +enchanted delight, unfurled to its full glory the great +black ostrich-feather fan. Norma amused Alice and +Mrs. Melrose by refusing tea, and disappeared long +before there was need, to begin the great ceremony +of robing.</p> + +<p>Miss Slater manicured her hands while Freda +brushed and dressed the dark thick hair. Between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +Norma and the nurse there had at first been no special +liking. Both were naturally candidates for Alice's +favour. But as the months went by, and Norma +began to realize that Miss Slater's position was not +only far from the ideally beautiful one it had seemed +at first, but that the homely, elderly, good-natured +woman was actually putting herself to some pains to +make Norma's own life in the Liggett house more +comfortable than it might have been, she had come +genuinely to admire Alice's attendant, and now they +were fast friends. It was often in Norma's power to distract +Alice's attention from the fact that Miss Slater +was a little late in returning from her walk, or she would +make it a point to order for the invalid something that +Miss Slater had forgotten. They stood firmly together +in many a small domestic emergency, and although +the nurse's presence to-night was not, as Norma +thought with a little pang, like having Rose or Aunt +Kate with her, still it was much, much better than +having no one at all.</p> + +<p>She sat wrapped luxuriously in a brilliant kimono, +while Freda brushed and rolled busily, and Miss Slater +polished and clipped. Then ensued a period of intense +concentration at the mirror, when the sparkling pins +were put in her hair, and the little pearl earrings +screwed into her ears, and when much rubbing and +greasing and powdering went on, and even some slight +retouching of the innocent, red young mouth.</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" Norma asked, dubiously eyeing the effect +of a trace of rouge.</p> + +<p>"Don't be an idiot, Miss Sheridan!" Miss Slater +said. "You've got a lovely colour, and it's a shame to +touch it!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +"Oh, but I think I look so pale!" Norma argued.</p> + +<p>"Well, when you've had your dinner——Now, you +take my advice, my dear, and let your face alone."</p> + +<p>"Well, all the girls do it," Norma declared, catching up +the little girdle, and not unwilling to be over-persuaded. +She gave an actual shiver of delight as Freda slipped +the gown over her head.</p> + +<p>It fell into shape about her, a miracle of cut and fit. +The little satiny underskirt was heavy with beads, +the misty cloud of gauze that floated above it was hardly +heavy enough to hold its own embroideries. Little +beaded straps held it to the flawless shoulders, and +Norma made her two attendants laugh as she jerked +and fussed at the gold lace and tiny satin roses that +crossed her breast.</p> + +<p>"Leave it alone!" Miss Slater said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it seems so low!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you may be very sure it isn't—Lenz knows +what he's doing when he makes a gown.... Here, +now, what are you going to do with your flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm going to wrap the paper round them, and +carry them until just before I get to Aunt Annie's. +Wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't I? I like that!" said Miss Slater, settling +her eyeglasses on the bridge of her nose with a finger +and thumb. Norma had a momentary pang of sympathy; +she could never have been made to understand +that a happy barnyard duck may look contentedly +up from her pool at the peacock trailing his plumes on +the wall.</p> + +<p>"Norma—for the love of Allah!" Chris shouted +from downstairs.</p> + +<p>Norma gave a panicky laugh, snatched her fan, wrap,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +and flowers, and fled joyously down to be criticized and +praised. On the whole, they were pleased with her: Alice, +seizing a chance for an aside to tell her not to worry +about the lowness of the gown, that it was absolutely +correct she might be very sure, and Mrs. Melrose quite +tremulously delighted with her ward. Chris did not +say much until a few minutes before they planned to +start, when he slipped a thin, flat gold watch from his +vest pocket, and asked speculatively:</p> + +<p>"Norma, has your Aunt Kate ever seen you in that +rig?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she answered, quickly. And then, with less +sparkle, "No."</p> + +<p>"Well, would you like to run in on her a moment?—she'd +probably like it tremendously!" said Chris.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris—I would love it!" Norma exclaimed, +soberly, over a disloyal conviction that she would +rather not. "But have we time?"</p> + +<p>"Tons of time. Annie's dinners are a joke!"</p> + +<p>Norma glanced at the women; Mrs. Melrose looked +undecided, but Alice said encouragingly:</p> + +<p>"I think that would be a sweet thing to do!"</p> + +<p>So it was decided: and Norma was bundled up immediately, +and called out excitedly laughing good-byes +as Chris hurried her to the car.</p> + +<p>"You know, it means a lot to your own people, really +to see you this way, instead of always reading about +it, or hearing about it!" Chris said, in his entirely +prosaic, big-brotherly tone, as the car glided smoothly +toward the West Sixties.</p> + +<p>"I know it!" Norma agreed. "But I don't know how +you do!" she added, in shy gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm nearly twice your age, for one thing,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +he replied, pleasantly. And as the car stopped unhesitatingly +at the familiar door he added: "Now make this +very snappy!"</p> + +<p>She protested against his getting out, but he accompanied +her all the way upstairs, both laughing like +conspirators as they passed somewhat astonished residents +of the apartment house on the way.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kate and Wolf, and Rose and Harry, as good +fortune would have it, were all gathered under the +dining-room lamp, and there was a burst of laughter +and welcome for Norma and "Mister Chris." Norma's +wrap was tossed aside, and she revolved in all her glory, +waving her fan at arm's length, pleasantly conscious +of Wolf's utter stupefaction, and conscious, too, a little +less pleasantly, that Aunt Kate's maternal eye did not +agree with Aunt Annie's in the matter of <i>décolletage</i>.</p> + +<p>Then she and Chris were on their way again, and the +legitimate delights of being young and correctly dressed +and dining with the great Mrs. von Behrens, and going +to Grand Opera at the Metropolitan, might begin. +Norma had perhaps never in her life been in such wild +spirits as she was to-night. It was not happiness, +exactly, not the happiness of a serene spirit and a +quiet mind, for she was too nervous and too much +excited to be really happy. But it was all wonderful.</p> + +<p>She was the youngest person at the long dinner table, +at which eighteen guests sat in such stately and such +separated great carved chairs as almost to dine alone. +Everyone was charmingly kind to the little Melrose +protégée, who was to be introduced at a formal tea +next week. The men were all older than Leslie's group +and were neither afraid nor too selfishly wrapped up +in their own narrow little circle to be polite. Norma<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +had known grown young men, college graduates, and +the sons of prominent families, who were too entirely +conventional to be addressed without an introduction, +or to turn to a strange girl's rescue if she spilled a cup +of tea. But there was none of that sort of thing here.</p> + +<p>To be sure, Annie's men were either married, divorced, +or too old to be strictly eligible in the eyes of unsophisticated +nineteen, but that did not keep them from serving +delightfully as dinner partners. Then Aunt Annie +herself was delightful to-night, and joined in the +general, if unexpressed, flattery that Norma felt in +the actual atmosphere.</p> + +<p>"Heavens—do you hear that, Ella?" said Annie, to +an intimate and contemporary, when Norma shyly +asked if the dress was all as it should be—if the—well, +the neck, wasn't just a little——? "Heavens!" said +Mrs. von Behrens, roundly, "if I had your shoulders—if +I were nineteen again!—you'd see something a good +deal more sensational than that!"</p> + +<p>This was not the sort of thing one repeated to Aunt +Kate. It was, like much of Annie's conversation, so +daring as to be a little shocking. But Annie had so +much manner, such a pleasant, assured voice, that somehow +Norma never found it censurable in her.</p> + +<p>To-night, for the first time, Hendrick von Behrens +paid her a little personal attention. Norma had always +liked the big, blond, silent man, with his thinning +fair hair, and his affection for his sons. It was of his +sons that he spoke to her, as he came up to her to-night.</p> + +<p>"There are two little boys up in the nursery that +don't want to go to sleep until Cousin Norma comes up +to say good-night," said Hendrick, smiling indulgently. +Norma turned willingly from Chris and two or three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +other men and women; it was a privilege to be sufficiently +at home in this magnificent place to follow her +host up to the nursery upstairs, and be gingerly hugged +by the little silk-pajamed boys.</p> + +<p>Chris watched her go, the big fan and the blue eye +and the delightful low voice all busy as she and Hendrick +went away, and an odd thought came to him. +That was her stepfather upon whom she was turning +the battery of those lovely eyes; those little boys who +were, he knew, jumping up and down in their little +Dutch colonial beds, and calling "Norma—Norma—Norma!" +were her half-brothers.</p> + +<p>He glanced toward Annie; her beautiful figure wrapped +in a sparkling robe that swept about her like a regal +mantle, her fair hair scalloped like waves of carved +gold, her fingers and throat and hair and ears sparkling +with diamonds. Annie had on the famous Murison +pearls, too, to-night; she was twisting them in her +fingers as her creditable Italian delighted the ears of +the Italian ambassador. Her own daughter to-night +sat among her guests. Chris liked to think himself +above surprise, but the strangeness of the situation +was never absent a second from his thoughts. He +drifted toward his hostess; he was proud of his own +languages, and when Norma came back she came to +stand wistfully beside them, wondering if ever—ever—ever—she +would be able to do that!</p> + +<p>It was all thrilling—exhilarating—wonderful! Norma's +heart thumped delightfully as the big motor-cars +turned into Broadway and took their place in +the slowly moving line. She pressed her radiant face +close to the window; snow was fluttering softly down +in the darkness, and men were pushing it from the side<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>walks, +and shouting in the night. There was the usual +fringe of onlookers in front of the opera house, and it +required all Norma's self-control to seem quite naturally +absorbed in getting herself safely out of the motor-car, +and quite unconscious that her pretty ankles, and +her pretty head, and the great bunched wrap, were +not being generally appraised.</p> + +<p>Women were stepping about gingerly in high heels; +lights flashed on quivering aigrettes, on the pressed, +intense faces of the watchers, and on the gently turning +and falling snow, against the dark street. Norma +was caught in some man's protecting arm, to push +through into the churning crowd in the foyer; she had +a glimpse of uniformed ushers and programme boys, +of furred shoulders, of bared shoulders, of silk hats, +of a sign that said: "Footmen Are Not Allowed in This +Lobby."</p> + +<p>Then somehow through, criss-crossed currents in the +crowd, they reached the mysterious door of the box, +and Norma saw for the first time the great, dimly +lighted circle of the opera house, the enormous rise +of balcony above balcony, the double tiers of boxes, +and the rows of seats downstairs, separated by wide +aisles, and rapidly filling now with the men and women +who were coming down to their places almost on a run.</p> + +<p>The orchestra was already seated, and as Norma +stood awed and ecstatic in the front of the Von Behrens +box, the conductor came in, and was met with a wave +of applause, which had no sooner died away than the +lights fanned softly and quickly down, there was the +click of a baton on wood, and in the instantly ensuing +hush the first quivering notes of the opera began.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, you web-foot!" Acton Liggett whispered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +laughing, and Norma sank stiffly upon her chair, risking, +as the curtain had not yet risen, a swift, bewildered +smile of apology toward the dim forms that were rustling +and settling behind her.</p> + +<p>"Oo—oo—ooo!" was all that she could whisper when +presently Chris murmured a question in her ear. And +when the lights were on again, and the stars taking +their calls, he saw that her face was wet, and her lashes +were caught together with tears.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> wonderful music; the best of Verdi!" he said to +Annie; and Annie, agreeing, sent him off with "that +baby," to have her dry her eyes. Norma liked his not +speaking to her, on her way to the great parlour where +women were circling about the long mirrors, but when +she rejoined him she was quite herself, laughing, excited, +half dancing as he took her back to the box.</p> + +<p>She sat down again, her beautiful little head, with +its innocent sweep of smooth hair, visible from almost +every part of the house, her questions incessant as the +blue eyes and the great fan swept to and fro. Once, +when she turned suddenly toward him, in the second +entr'acte, she saw a look on Chris's face that gave her +an odd second of something like fear, but the house +darkened again before she could analyze the emotion, +and Norma glued her eyes to the footlights.</p> + +<p>What she did not see was a man, not quite at ease +at his own first grand opera, not quite comfortable +in his own first evening dress, lost—and willingly +lost, among the hundreds who had come in just to stand +far at the back, behind the seats, edging and elbowing +each other, changing feet, and resting against any +chair-back or column that offered itself, and sitting +down, between acts, on the floor.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +Wolf was not restless. He was strong enough to +stand like an Indian, and tall enough to look easily +over the surrounding heads. More than that, "Aïda" +did not interest him in itself, and at some of its most +brilliant passages he was guilty of slipping away to +pace the hallways in solitude, or steal to the foyer for a +brief cigarette. But when the house was lighted again, +he went back into the auditorium, and then his eyes +never left the little dark head of the girl who sat forward +in one of the lower tier of boxes, waving her +big fan, and talking over her bare shoulder to one or +another of the persons beside or behind her.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">It was</span> long afterward that Norma dated from the +night of "Aïda" a new feeling in herself toward Chris, +and the recognition of a new feeling in Chris toward +her. She knew that a special sort of friendship existed +between them from that time on.</p> + +<p>He had done nothing definite that night; he had never +done or said anything that could be held as marking +the change. But Norma felt it, and she knew that he +did. And somehow, in that atmosphere of fragrant +flowers and women as fragrant, of rustling silks and +rich furs, of music and darkness, and the old passion of +the story, it had come to her for the first time that Chris +was not only the Chris of Alice's room, Aunt Marianna's +son-in-law and Leslie's brother-in-law, but her own +Chris, too, a Chris who had his special meaning for +her, as well as for the rest.</p> + +<p>She liked him, it was natural that she should especially +and truly like him. Almost all women did, for +he was of the type that comes closest to understanding +them, and he had made their favour an especial study. +Chris could never be indifferent to any woman; if +he did not actively dislike her, he took pains to please +her, and, never actively disliking Norma, he had from +the first constituted himself her guide and friend.</p> + +<p>Long before he was conscious that there was a real +charm to this little chance member of their group, +Norma had capitulated utterly. His sureness, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +pleasant suggestions, his positive approval or kindly +protests, had done more to make her first months +among the Melroses happy than any other one thing. +Norma loved him, and was grateful to him, even when +he hurt her. In the matter of a note of acceptance, +of a little act of thanks, of a gown or hat, his decision +was absolute, and she had never known it mistaken.</p> + +<p>Besides this, she saw him everywhere welcome, everywhere +courted and admired, and everywhere the same +Chris—handsome, self-possessed, irreproachably dressed +whether for golf or opera, adequate to the claims of +wife, mother, family, or the world. She had heard +Acton turn to him for help in little difficulties; she knew +that Leslie trusted him with all her affairs, and he was +as close as any man could be to an intimacy with +Hendrick von Behrens. Quietly, almost indifferently, +he would settle his round eyeglasses on their black +ribbon, narrow his fine, keen eyes and set his firm jaw, +and take up their problems one by one, always courteous, +always interested, always helpful.</p> + +<p>Then Chris had charm, as visible to all the world as to +Norma. He had the charm of race, of intelligence and +education, the charm of a man who prides himself +upon his Italian and French, upon his knowledge of +books and pictures, and his capacity for holding his +own in any group, on any subject. He was quite +frankly a collector, a connoisseur, a dilettante in a +hundred different directions, and he had had leisure +all his life to develop and perfect his affectations. +In all this new world Norma could not perhaps have +discovered a man more rich in just what would impress +her ignorance, her newness, to the finer aspects of +civilization.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +For a few weeks after "Aïda," as other operas and +Annie's tea, and the opening social life of the winter +softened the first impression, Norma tried to tell +herself that she had imagined a little tendency, on +Chris's part, too—well, to impress her with his friendliness. +She had seen him flirt with other women, and +indeed small love affairs of all sorts were constantly +current, not only in Annie's, but in Leslie's group. A +certain laxity was in the air, and every month had its +separation or divorce, to be flung to the gossips for +dissection.</p> + +<p>Norma was not especially flattered at first, and +rather inclined to resent the assurance with which Chris +carried his well-known tendency for philandering into +his own family, as it were. But as the full days +went by, and she encountered in him, wherever they +met, the same grave, kindly attention, the same +pleasant mouth and curiously baffling eyes, in spite +of herself she began to experience a certain breathless +and half-flattered and half-frightened pride in his +affection.</p> + +<p>He never kissed her again, never tried to arrange +even the most casual meeting alone with her, and never +let escape even a word of more than brotherly friendliness. +But in Leslie's drawing-room at tea time, or at +some studio tea or Sunday luncheon in a country house, +he always quietly joined her, kept, if possible, within +the sound of her voice, and never had any plan that +would interfere with possible plans of hers. If she +was ready to go, he would drive her, perhaps to discourse +impersonally upon the quality of the pictures, +or the countryside mantled with snow, upon the way. +If she wanted a message telephoned, a telegram sent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +even a borrowed book returned, it was "no trouble at +all"; Chris would of course attend to it.</p> + +<p>At dinner parties he was rarely placed beside her; +hers was naturally the younger set. But he found a +hundred ways to remind her that he was constantly +attentive. Norma would feel her heart jump in her +side as he started toward her across a ball-room floor, +handsome, perfectly poised, betraying nothing but +generous interest in her youthful good times as he +took his place beside her.</p> + +<p>So Christmas came and went, and the last affairs +of the brief season began to be announced: the last +dances, the last dinners, the "pre-Lenten functions" +as the papers had it. Norma, apologizing, in one of +her flying calls on Aunt Kate, for the long intervals +between visits, explained that she honestly did not +know where the weeks flew!</p> + +<p>"And are you happy, Baby?" her aunt asked, holding +her close, and looking anxiously into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh—happy!" the girl exclaimed, with a sort of shallow, +quick laugh that was quite new. "Of course I am. +I never in my life dreamed that I could be so happy. +I've nothing left to wish for. Except, of course, that +I would like to know where I stand; I would like to +have my own position a little more definite," she added. +But the last phrases were uttered only in her own soul, +and Mrs. Sheridan, after a rather discontented scrutiny +of the face she loved so well, was obliged to change the +subject.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">In mid-Lent</span>, when an early rush of almost summery +warmth suddenly poured over the city, Chris and +Norma met on the way home from church. Norma +walked every Sunday morning to the big cathedral, +but Chris went only once or twice a year to the fashionable +Avenue church a few blocks away. This morning +he had joined her as she was quietly leaving the house, +and instantly it flashed into her mind that he had +deliberately planned to do so, knowing that Miss Slater, +who usually accompanied her, was away for a week's +vacation.</p> + +<p>Their conversation was impersonal and casual, as +always, as they walked along the drying sidewalks, +in the pleasant early freshness, but as Chris left her +he asked her at about what time she would be returning, +and Norma was not surprised, when she came out +of the cathedral, a little later than the great first tide +of the outpouring congregation, to see him waiting for +her.</p> + +<p>The thought of him had been keeping her heart +beating fast, and her mind in confusion, even while she +tried to pray. And she had thought that she might +leave the church by one of the big side doors, and so +at least run a fair risk of missing him. But Norma +half feared an act that would define their deepening +friendship as dangerous, and half longed for the fifteen +minutes of walking and chatting in the sunshine. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +she came straight to him, and with no more than a +word of greeting they turned north.</p> + +<p>It was an exquisite morning, and the clean, bare +stretches of the Avenue were swimming in an almost +summerlike mist of opal and blue. Such persons as +were visible in the streets at all were newsboys, idle +policemen, or black-clad women hurrying to or from +church, and when they reached the Park, it was almost +deserted. The trees, gently moving in a warm breeze, +were delicately etched with the first green of the year; +maples and sycamores were dotted with new, golden +foliage, and the grass was deep and sweet. A few riders +were ambling along the bridle-path, the horses +kicking up clods of the damp, soft earth.</p> + +<p>Norma and Christopher walked slowly, talking. +The girl was hardly conscious of what they said, realizing +suddenly, and almost with terror, that just to be +here, with Chris, was enough to flood her being with a +happiness as new and miraculous as the new and miraculous +springtime itself. There was no future and no +past to this ecstasy, no Alice, no world; it was enough, +in its first bloom, that it existed.</p> + +<p>"You've had—what is it?—a whole year of us, +Norma," Chris said, "and on the whole, it's been happy, +hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Fourteen months," she corrected him. "Fourteen +months, at least, since Aunt Kate and I called on Aunt +Marianna. Yes, it's been like a miracle, Chris. I +never will understand it. I never will understand why +a friendless girl—unknown and having absolutely no +claim—should have been treated so wonderfully!"</p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't want to go back?" he mused, +smiling.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +"No," she said, quickly. "I am afraid, when I +think of ever going back!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you should," Chris said. "You +will inherit, through your grandmother's will——"</p> + +<p>He had been following a train of thought, half to +himself. Norma's round eyes, as she stopped short +in the path, arrested him.</p> + +<p>"My <i>grandmother</i>!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Your Aunt Marianna," he amended, flushing. But +their eyes did not move as they stared at each other.</p> + +<p>A thousand remembered trifles flashed through +Norma's whirling brain; a thousand little half-stilled +suspicions leaped to new life. She had accepted the +suggested kinship in childish acquiescence, but doubt +was aflame now, once and for all. The man knew that +there was no further evading her.</p> + +<p>"Chris, do you know anything about me?" she asked, +directly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think—I know everything," he answered, +after a second's hesitation.</p> + +<p>Norma looked at him steadily. "Did you know my +father and mother?" she demanded, presently, in an +odd, tense voice.</p> + +<p>There was another pause before Chris said, slowly:</p> + +<p>"I have met your father. But I knew—I know—your +mother."</p> + +<p>"You <i>know</i> her?" The world was whirling about +Norma. "Is Aunt Kate my mother?" she asked, +breathing hard.</p> + +<p>"No. I don't know why you should not know. +You call her Aunt Annie," Chris said.</p> + +<p>Norma's hands dropped to her sides. She breathed +as if she were suffocating.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +"<i>Aunt Annie!</i>" she whispered, in stupefaction.</p> + +<p>And she turned and walked a few steps blindly, her +eyes wide and vacant, and one hand pressed to her +cheek. "My God!—my God!" he heard her say.</p> + +<p>"Annie eloped when she was a girl," Chris began +presently, when she was dazedly walking on again. +"She was married, and the man deserted her. She +was ill, in Germany——But shall I talk now? Would +you rather not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no! Go on," Norma said, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Alice was the first to guess it," Christopher pursued. +"Her sister doesn't know it, or dream it!"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Annie doesn't! She does not know that +I'm her own daughter!... But what <i>does</i> she +think?"</p> + +<p>"She supposes that her baby died, dear. I'm sorry +to tell you, Norma, but I couldn't lie to you! You'll +understand everything, now—why your grandmother +wants to make it all up to you——"</p> + +<p>"Does Leslie know?" Norma demanded, suddenly, +from a dark moment of brooding.</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows! Your Aunt Kate, your grandmother, +Alice, and I, are absolutely the only people +in the world! And Norma, <i>nobody else must know</i>. +For the sake of the family, for everyone's sake——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see that!" she answered, quickly and impatiently. +And for awhile she walked on in silence, +and apparently did not hear his one or two efforts to +recommence the conversation. "Aunt Annie!" she +said once, half aloud. And later she added, absently: +"Yes, I should know!"</p> + +<p>They had walked well up into the Park, now they +turned back; the sun was getting hot, first perambula<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>tors +were making their appearance, and Norma loosened +her light furs.</p> + +<p>"So I am a Melrose!" she mused. And then, abruptly: +"Chris, what <i>is</i> my name?"</p> + +<p>"Melrose," he answered, flushing.</p> + +<p>Her eyes asked a sudden, horrified question, and she +took the answer from his look without a word. He +saw the colour ebb from her face, leaving it very white.</p> + +<p>"You said—they—my parents—were married, Chris?" +she asked, painfully.</p> + +<p>"Annie supposed they were. But he was not free!"</p> + +<p>Norma did not speak again. In silence they crossed +the Avenue, and went on down the shady side street. +Chris, with chosen words and quietly, told her the +story of Annie's girlhood, who and what her father +had been, the bitter grief of her grandmother, the +general hushing up of the whole affair. He watched +her anxiously as he talked, for there was a drawn, set +look to her face that he did not like.</p> + +<p>"Why did Aunt Kate ever decide to bring me to my—my +grandmother, after so many years?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know that. Alice and I have +fancied that Kate might have kept in touch with your +father all this time, and that he might be dead now, +and not likely to—make trouble."</p> + +<p>"That is it," Norma agreed, quickly. "Because not +long before she came to see Aunt Marianna she <i>had</i> +had some sort of news—from Canada, I think. An +old friend was dead; I remember it as if it were yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Then that fits in," Chris said, glad she could talk.</p> + +<p>"But I can't believe it!" she cried in bewilderment. +And suddenly she burst out angrily: "Oh, Chris, is it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +fair? Is it fair? That one girl, like Leslie, should have +so—so much! The name, the inheritance, the husband +and position and the friends—and that another, through +no fault of hers, should be just—just—a nobody?"</p> + +<p>She choked, and Christopher made a little protestant +sound.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I am!" she insisted, bitterly. "Not recognized +by my own mother—she's <i>not</i> my mother! No +mother could——"</p> + +<p>"Listen, dear," Chris begged, really alarmed by the +storm he had raised. "Your grandmother, for reasons +of her own, never told Annie there was a baby. It +is obvious why she kept silent; it was only kindness—decency. +Annie was young, younger than you are, +and poor old Aunt Marianna only knew that her child +was ill, and had been ill-treated, and most cruelly used. +You were brought up safely and happily, with good +and loving people——"</p> + +<p>"The best in the world!" Norma said, through her +teeth, fighting tears.</p> + +<p>"The best in the world. Why, Norma, what a +woman they've made you! You—who stand alone +among all the girls I know! And then," Chris continued +quickly, seeing her a little quieter, "when +you are growing up, your aunt brings you to your +grandmother, who immediately turns her whole world +topsy-turvy to make you welcome! Is there anything +so unfair in that? Annie made a terrible mistake, +dear——"</p> + +<p>"And everyone but Annie pays!" Norma interrupted, +bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Norma, she is your mother!" Chris reminded her, +in the tone that, coming from him, always instantly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +affected her. Her eyes fell, and her tone, when she +spoke, was softer.</p> + +<p>"Just bearing a child isn't all motherhood," she +said.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear; I know. And if Annie were ever to +guess this, it isn't like her not to face the music, at any +cost. But isn't it better as it is, Norma?"</p> + +<p>The wonderful tone, the wonderful manner, the +kindness and sympathy in his eyes! Norma, with one +foot on the lowest step, now raised her eyes to his +with a sort of childish penitence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Chris! But"—her lips trembled—"but +if Aunt Kate had only kept me from knowing for ever!" +she faltered.</p> + +<p>"She wouldn't take that responsibility, dear, and +one can't blame her. A comfortable inheritance comes +from your grandmother; it isn't the enormous fortune +Leslie inherited, of course, but it is all you would have +had, even had Annie brought you home openly as her +daughter. It is enough to make a very pretty wedding-portion +for me to give away with you, my dear, in a +few years," Chris added more lightly. The suggestion +made her face flame again.</p> + +<p>"Who would marry me?" she said, under her breath, +with a scornful look, under half-lowered lids, into space.</p> + +<p>For answer he gave her an odd glance—one that +lived in her memory for many and many a day.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Norma—Norma—Norma!" he said—quickly, +half laughingly. Then his expression changed, and +his smile died away. "I have something to bear," +he said, with a glance upward toward Alice's windows. +"Life isn't roses, roses, all the way for any one of us, +my dear! Now, you've got a bad bit of the road<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +ahead. But let's be good sports, Norma. And come +in now, I'm famished; let's have breakfast. My +honour is in your hands," he added, more gravely, +"perhaps I had no right to tell you all this! You +mustn't betray me!"</p> + +<p>"Chris," she responded, warmly, "as if I could!"</p> + +<p>He watched her eating her breakfast, and chatting +with Alice, a little later, and told himself that some of +Annie's splendid courage had certainly descended to +this gallant little daughter. Norma was pale, and +now and then her eyes would meet his with a certain +strained look, or she would lose the thread of the conversation +for a few seconds, but that was all. Alice +noticed nothing, and in a day or two Chris could easily +have convinced himself that the conversation in the +spring greenness of the Sunday morning had been a +dream.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">However</span>, that hour had borne fruit, and in two separate +ways had had its distinct effect upon Norma's +mind and soul. In the first place, she had a secret +now with Chris, and understanding that made her +most casual glance at him significant, and gave a +double meaning to almost every word they exchanged. +It was at his suggestion that she decided to keep the +revelation from Alice, even though she knew what +Alice knew, for Alice was not very well, and Chris was +sure that it would only agitate and frighten the invalid +to feel that the family's discreditable secret was just +that much nearer betrayal. So she and Chris alone +shared the agitation, strain, and bewilderment of the +almost overwhelming discovery; and Norma, in turning +to him for advice and sympathy, deepened tenfold the +tie between them.</p> + +<p>But even this result was not so far-reaching as the +less-obvious effect of the discovery upon her character. +Everything that was romantic, undisciplined, and reckless +in Norma was fostered by the thought that so +thrilling and so secret a history united her closely to +the Melrose family. That she was Leslie's actual +cousin, that the closest of all human relationships +bound her to the magnificent Mrs. von Behrens, were +thoughts that excited in her every dramatic and extravagant +tendency to which the amazing year had inclined +<i>her</i>. With her growing ease in her changed environ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>ment, +and the growing popularity she enjoyed there, +came also a sense of predestination, the conviction +that her extraordinary history justified her in any act +of daring or of unconventionality. There was nothing +to be gained by self-control or sanity, Norma might tell +herself, at least for those of the Melrose blood.</p> + +<p>Her shyness of the season before had vanished, and +she could plunge into the summer gaiety with an assurance +that amazed even herself. Her first meeting +with Annie, after the day of Chris's disclosures, was an +ordeal at which he himself chanced to be a secretly +thrilled onlooker. Norma grew white, and her lips +trembled; there was a strained look in her blue, agonized +eyes. But Annie's entire unconsciousness that the +situation was at all tense, and the presence of three or +four total outsiders, helped Norma to feel that this +amazing and dramatic moment was only one more +in a life newly amazing and dramatic, and she escaped +unnoticed from the trial. The second time was much +less trying, and after that Norma showed no sign that +she ever thought of the matter at all.</p> + +<p>Mrs. von Behrens took Norma to her Maine camp in +July, and when the girl joined the Chris Liggetts in +August, it was for a season of hard tennis, golf, polo, +dancing, yachting, and swimming. Norma grew lean +and tanned, and improved so rapidly in manner and +appearance that Alice felt, concerning her, certain +fears that she one day confided to her mother.</p> + +<p>It was on an early September day, dry and airless, +and they were on the side porch of the Newport +cottage.</p> + +<p>"You see how pretty she's growing, Mama," Alice +said. And then, in a lower tone, with a quick cautious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +glance about: "Mama, doesn't she often remind you +of Annie?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose, who had been contentedly rocking and +drowsing in the heat, paled with sudden terror and +apprehension, and looked around her with sick and +uneasy eyes.</p> + +<p>"Alice—my darling," she stammered.</p> + +<p>"I know, Mama—I'm not going to talk about it, +truly!" Alice assured her, quickly. "I never even +<i>think</i> of it!" she added, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"No—no—no, that's right!" her mother agreed, hurriedly. +Her soft old face, under the thin, crimped gray +hair, was full of distress.</p> + +<p>"Mama, there is no reason why it should worry you," +Alice said, distressed, too. "Don't think of it; I'm +sorry I spoke! But sometimes, even though she is so +dark, Norma is so like Annie that it makes my blood +run cold. If Annie ever suspected that she is—well, +her own daughter——"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose's face was ashen, and she looked as if +touched by the heat.</p> + +<p>"No—no, dear!" she said, with a sort of terrified +brevity. "You and Chris were wrong there. I can't +talk to you about it, Alice," she broke off, pleadingly; +"you mustn't ask me, dear. You said you wouldn't," +she pleaded, trembling.</p> + +<p>Alice was stupefied. For a full minute she lay in her +pillows, staring blankly at her mother.</p> + +<p>"<i>Isn't</i>——!" she whispered at last, incredulous and +bewildered.</p> + +<p>"No, dear. Poor Annie——! No, no, no; Norma's +mother is dead. But—but you must believe that +Mama is acting as she believes to be for the best,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +she interrupted herself, in painful and hesitating tones, +"and that I can't talk about it now, Alice; I can't, +indeed! Some day——"</p> + +<p>"Mama darling," Alice cried, really alarmed by her +leaden colour and wild eyes, "please—I'll never speak +of it again! Why, I know that everything you do is +for us all, darling! Please be happy about it. Come on, +we'll talk of something else. When do you leave for +town—to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Poole drives us as far as Great Barrington to-morrow, +Norma and me," the old lady began, gaining +calm as she reviewed her plans. Chris needed her for a +little matter of business, and Norma was anxious to +see her Cousin Rose's new baby. The conversation +drifted to Leslie's baby, the idolized Patricia who was +now some four months old.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Two</span> days later found Norma happily seated beside +the big bed she and Rose had shared less than two +years ago, where Rose now lay, with the snuffling and +mouthing baby, rolled deep in flannels, beside her. +Rose had come home to her mother, for the great event, +and Mrs. Sheridan was exulting in the care of them +both. Just now she was in the kitchen, and the two +girls were alone together, Norma a little awed and a +little ashamed of the emotion that Rose's pale and +rapt and radiant face gave her; Rose secretly pitying, +from her height, the woman who was not yet a mother.</p> + +<p>"And young Mrs. Liggett was terribly disappointed +that her baby was a girl," Rose marvelled. "I didn't +care one bit! Only Harry is glad it's a boy."</p> + +<p>"Well, Leslie was sure that hers was going to be a +boy," Norma said, "and I wish you could have heard +Aunt Annie deciding that the Melroses usually had +sons——"</p> + +<p>"She'll have a boy next," Rose suggested.</p> + +<p>Norma glanced at her polished finger-tip, adjusted +the woolly tan bag she carried.</p> + +<p>"She says never again!" she remarked, airily. Rose's +clear forehead clouded faintly, and Norma hastened to +apologize. "Well, my dear, that's what she <i>said</i>," +she remarked, laughingly, with quick fingers on Rose's +hand.</p> + +<p>"It's sad that Mrs. Chris Liggett didn't have just one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +before her accident. It would make such a difference +in her life," Rose mused, with her eyes fixed thoughtfully +on Norma's face. There was something about +Norma to-day that she did not understand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's frightfully sad," Norma agreed, easily. +And because she liked the mere sound of his name, she +added: "Chris is fond of children, too!" Then, with +a sudden change of manner that even unsuspicious +Rose thought odd, she said, gaily: "Isn't Aunt Kate +perfectly delicious about the nurse? I knew she would +be. Of course, she does everything, and Miss Miller +simply looks on."</p> + +<p>"Well, almost," Rose said, with an affectionate laugh. +"She didn't want a nurse at all, but Harry and Wolf +insisted. And then—night before last—when I was +so ill, it almost made me laugh in spite of feeling so +badly, to hear Mother with Miss Miller. 'You'd +better get out of here, my dear,' I heard her say, 'this +is no place for a girl like you——'"</p> + +<p>Norma's laugh rang out. But Rose noticed that +her face sobered immediately almost into sadness, +and that there was a bitter line about the lovely mouth, +and a shadow of something like cynicism in her blue +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Norma," she ventured, suddenly storming the fortress, +"what is it, darling? Something's worrying you, +Nono. Can't you tell me?"</p> + +<p>With the old nursery name Norma's gallant look +of amusement and reassurance faltered. She looked +suddenly down at the hand Rose was holding, and +Rose saw the muscles of her throat contract, and that +she was pressing her lips together to keep them from +trembling.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +A tear fell on the locked hands. Norma kept her +eyes averted, shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Is it a man, Nono?"</p> + +<p>Norma looked up, dashed away the tears, and +managed a rueful smile.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it always a man?" she asked, bravely.</p> + +<p>Rose still looked at her anxiously, waiting for further +light.</p> + +<p>"But, dearest, surely he likes you?"</p> + +<p>The other girl was silent, rubbing her thumb slowly +to and fro across Rose's thin hand.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she answered, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"But of course he does!" Rose said, confidently. +"It'll all come right. There's no reason why it +shouldn't!" And with all the interest of their old +days of intimacy she asked eagerly: "Nono, is he +handsome?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—tremendously."</p> + +<p>"And the right age?"</p> + +<p>Norma laughed, half protestant.</p> + +<p>"Rose, aren't you a little demon for the third degree!" +But she liked it, in spite of the reluctance in +her manner, and presently added: "I don't think age +matters, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least," Rose agreed. "Norma, does +Mrs. Melrose know?"</p> + +<p>"Know what?" Norma parried.</p> + +<p>"Know that—well, that you like him?"</p> + +<p>Norma raised serious eyes, looked unsmilingly into +Rose's smiling face.</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows. It—it isn't going right, Rose. I +can't tell you about all of it——" She paused.</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't know the people if you did,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +Rose said, sensibly. And suddenly she added, timidly, +"Norma, there isn't another girl?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, there is, in a way," Norma conceded, +after thought.</p> + +<p>"That he likes better?" Rose asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think he likes her better!" Norma +answered.</p> + +<p>"Well, then——?" Rose summarized, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>But there was no answering flash from Norma, who +was looking down again, and who still wore a troubled +expression, although, as Rose rejoiced to see, it was +less bitter than it had been.</p> + +<p>"Rose," she said, gravely, "if he was already bound +in honour; if he was—promised, to her?"</p> + +<p>Rose's eyes expressed quick sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Norma! You mean engaged? But then how did +he ever come to care for you?" she followed it up +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" Norma said, with a shrug.</p> + +<p>"But, Nono, why do you think he <i>does</i> like you? +Has he said so?"</p> + +<p>Norma had freed her hand, and pulled on her rough +little cream-coloured gloves. Now she spread her five +fingers, and looked at them with slightly raised brows +and slightly compressed lips.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, briefly and quietly.</p> + +<p>Rose's face was full of distress. Again she reached +for Norma's fingers.</p> + +<p>"Dearest—I'm so sorry! But—but it doesn't make +you feel very badly, does it, Norma?"</p> + +<p>Norma did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Ah, it does!" Rose said, pitifully. "Are you so sure +you care?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +At this Norma laughed, glanced for a moment into +far space, shook her head. And for a few minutes +there was utter silence in the plain little bedroom. +Then the baby began to fuss and grope, and to make +little sneezing faces in his cocoon of blankets.</p> + +<p>"Just one more word, dear," Rose said, later, when +Aunt Kate had come flying in, and carried off the new +treasure, and when Norma was standing before the +mirror adjusting her wide-brimmed summer hat. "If +he cares for you, it's much, much better to make +the change now, Norma, than to wait until it's too late! +No matter how hard, or how unpleasant it is——"</p> + +<p>"I know," Norma agreed, quickly, painfully, stooping +to kiss her. "We'll be down next month, Rose, +and then I'll see you oftener!"</p> + +<p>"When do you go?" Rose said, clinging to her hand.</p> + +<p>"Go back to Newport? To-morrow. Or at least +we get to Great Barrington to-morrow, and we may +stay there with the Richies a few days. Aunt Marianna +hates to make the trip in one day, so we stayed there +last night. But she had to come down to sign some +papers. Chris has been down all the week and he wired +for her, so she and I drove down together."</p> + +<p>"And is the country lovely now?" Rose asked.</p> + +<p>"Well—dry. But it is beautiful, too; so hot and +leafy and thunderous."</p> + +<p>"And where are you—at the old house?"</p> + +<p>"No; at a hotel, up near the Park. I wish you and +little Peter Pan could get away somewhere, Rose, for +we'll have another three weeks of the heat!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, Mother Redding and the baby and I +are going to the Berkshires for at least two whole +weeks," Rose announced, happily. "And I thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +that my bad boy was coming in early August," she +added, of the baby, "or I would have gone first. Try +to come oftener, Norma," she pleaded, "for we all +love you so!"</p> + +<p>And again, Norma's manner worried her. What +was there in the sisterly little speech to bring the tears +again to Norma's eyes?</p> + +<p>"I know you do, Rosy," Norma said, very low. "I +wish I could go up to the Berkshires with you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, why don't you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh"—Norma flung back her head—"I don't +know!" she said, with an attempt at lightness. And +two minutes later she had kissed Aunt Kate, and +greeted Wolf, in the kitchen, and Rose heard their +laughter, and then the closing of the front door.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Wolf</span> walked with her to the omnibus. He had come +in tired with the heat of the long day, but Norma +thought him his sweetest self, brotherly, good, unsuspicious, +and unaffected. He complimented her on her +appearance; he had a kind word for Harry Redding, +for the baby; he told Norma that he and his mother +had gone to Portland by water a few weeks before and +had a great spree. Norma, tired and excited, loved +him for his very indifference to her affairs and her mood, +for the simplicity with which he showed her the book +he was reading, and the amusement he found all along +the dry and dusty and dirty street. Everything was +interesting to Wolf, and he made no apologies for the +general wiltedness and disorder of the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>Norma looked down at him, from the top of the +omnibus, and thought that he was a friendly and likable +big young man, with his rumpled bare head shining +reddish-brown in the streaming, merciless sunlight. +She had no idea that his last look at her was like some +precious canvas that a collector adds to his treasures, +that to the thousands of little-girl Normas, and bookshop +Normas, and to the memorable picture of a +débutante Norma at her first opera, Wolf carried +away with him to-night one more Norma: a brown, +self-possessed, prettier-than-ever Norma, in a wide +English hat and a plain linen suit, and transparent +green silk stockings that matched her green silk parasol.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +She got down from the omnibus, a few blocks farther +away, and walked slowly along the shady side of the +burning cross-streets, thinking, thinking, thinking. +It was the hottest hour of the afternoon; there would +be a storm to-night, but just now the air hung motionless, +and the shadows were almost as dazzling, in their +baking dimness, as the sunshine. Houses were closed +and silent, show windows bare; the omnibuses creaked +by loaded with passengers, trying to get cool. There +was an odour of frying potatoes; other odours, stale +and lifeless, crept through the stale and lifeless air.</p> + +<p>Norma was entirely familiar with this phase of city +life, for, except for Sundays at Coney Island, or picnicking +on some beach or in some meadow or wood of +Connecticut, she and the Sheridans had weathered two +successive hot seasons very comfortably within two +hundred yards of Broadway. It held no particular +horrors for her; she reflected that in another hour or +two the sun would quite have died away, and then +every flight of old brownstone steps would hold its +chatting group, and every street its scores of screaming +and running children.</p> + +<p>Wherever her thoughts carried her, they began +and ended with Christopher. He had never kissed +her again after the night of his return from Miami; +he had hardly touched even her hand, and he had said +no word of love. But, as the summer progressed, +these two had grown steadily to live more and more +for each other, for just the casual friendly looks and +words of ordinary intercourse in the presence of other +persons, and for the chance hours that Fate now and +then permitted them alone.</p> + +<p>Norma, in every other relationship grown more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +whimsical and more restless, showing new phases of +frivolity and shallowness to the world, had deepened +and developed, under Chris's eyes, into her own highest +possibility of womanhood. To him she was earnest, +honest, only anxious to be good and to be true. He +knew the viewpoint of that wiser self that was the real +Norma; he knew how wide open those blue eyes were +to what was false and worthless in the world around her.</p> + +<p>And Norma had seen him change, too, or perhaps +more truly become himself. Still apparently the old +Chris, handsome, poised, cynical, and only too ready +to be bored, he went his usual course of golf and polo, +gave his men's dinners, kissed Alice good-bye and departed +for yachting or motoring trips. Even Alice, +shut away from reality in her own world of music and +sweet airs, flowers and friendship, saw no change.</p> + +<p>But Norma saw it. She knew that Chris was no +longer ready to respond to every pretty woman's idle +challenge to a flirtation; she knew that there was a +Chris of high ideals, a Chris capable even of heroism, +a Chris who loved simplicity, who loved even service, +and who was not too spoiled and too proud to give his +time as well as his money, to give himself gladly where +he saw the need.</p> + +<p>Their hours alone together were hours of enchanting +discovery. Memories of the little boy that had been +Chris, the little girl that had been Norma, their hopes +and ambitions and joys and sorrows, all were exchanged. +And to them both every word seemed of thrilling and +absorbing interest. To Norma life now was a different +thing when Chris merely was in the room, however +distant from her, however apparently interested in +someone, or something, else. She knew that he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +conscious of her, thinking of her, and that presently +she would have just the passing word, or smile, or even +quiet glance that would buoy her hungry soul like a +fresh and powerful current.</p> + +<p>It was not strange to her that she should have come +to feel him the most vital and most admirable of all +the persons about her, for many of the men and women +who loved Chris shared this view. Norma had not +been in the Melrose house a month before she had heard +him called "wonderful", "inimitable", "the only +Chris", a hundred times. Even, she told herself sometimes, +even the women that Chris quite openly disliked +would not return coldness for coldness. And how +much less could she, so much younger, resist the generous +friendship he offered to her ignorance, and awkwardness, +and strangeness?</p> + +<p>That he saw in her own companionship something to +value she had at first been slow to believe. Sheer +pride had driven her to reluctance, to shyness, to unbelief. +But that was long ago, months ago. Norma +knew now that he truly liked her, that the very freshness +and unconventionality of her viewpoint delighted +him, and that he gave her a frankness, a simpleness, +and an ardour, in his confidences, that would have astonished +Alice herself.</p> + +<p>Alice! Norma was thinking of Alice, now. Just +where did Alice come in? Alice had always been the +most generous of wives. But she could not be generous +here; no human woman could. She liked Norma, in a +sense she needed Norma, but Chris was all her world.</p> + +<p>"But, good heavens!" Norma mused, as she walked +slowly along, "isn't there to be any friendship for a +man but his men friends, or any for a woman except<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +unmarried men? Isn't there friendship at all between +the sexes? Must it always be sneaking and subterfuge, +unless it's marriage? I don't want to marry +Chris Liggett——"</p> + +<p>She stopped short, and the blood left her heart suddenly, +and rushed back with a pounding that almost +dizzied her.</p> + +<p>"<i>I don't want to marry Chris Liggett</i>," she whispered, +aloud. And then she widened her eyes at space, and +walked on blindly for a little way. "Oh, Chris, Chris, +Chris!" she said. "Oh, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>An agony almost physical in its violence seized her, +and she began to move more rapidly, as if to wear it +out, or escape it.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no; I can't care for him in that way," +said Norma, feeling her throat dry and her head suddenly +aching. "We can't—we cannot—like each other +that way!"</p> + +<p>The rest of the walk was a blank as far as her consciousness +was concerned. She was swept far away, +on a rushing sea of memories, memories confused and +troubled by a vague apprehension of the days to come. +That was it; that was it; they loved each other. Not +as kinspeople, not as friends, not as the Chris and +Norma of Alice's and Leslie's and Annie's lives, but as +man and woman, caught at last in the old, old snare +that is the strongest in life.</p> + +<p>Bewildered and sick, she reached the cool, great +colonnaded doorway of the hotel. And here she and +Christopher came face to face.</p> + +<p>He was coming out, was indeed halfway down the +stone steps. They stood still and looked at each other.</p> + +<p>Norma thought that he looked tired, that perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +the hot week in streets and offices had been hard for +him. He was pale, and the smile he gave her was +strained and unnatural. They had not seen each +other for ten days, and Norma, drinking in every expression +of the firm mouth, the shrewd, kindly eyes, +the finely set head, felt sudden confidence and happiness +flood her being again. It was all nonsense, this +imagining of hers, and she and Chris would always +be the best friends in the world!</p> + +<p>"Alice is perfectly splendid," Norma said, in answer +to his first questions, "and Leslie's baby is much less +fat and solid looking, and getting to be so cunning. +Where is Aunt Marianna?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs," he answered with a slight backward +inclination of his head. "We had a most satisfactory +day, and you and she can get off to Great Barrington +to-morrow without any trouble."</p> + +<p>"She and I?" Norma said, distressed by something +cold and casual in his manner. "But aren't you coming, +too? Alice depends upon your coming!"</p> + +<p>"I can't, I'm sorry to say. I may get up on Friday +night," Chris said, with an almost weary air of politeness.</p> + +<p>"Friday! Why, then—then I'll persuade Aunt +Marianna to wait," Norma decided, eagerly. "You +must come with us, Chris; it's quite lovely up through +Connecticut!"</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," the man repeated, glancing beyond +her as if in a hurry to terminate the conversation. +"But I may not get up at all this week. And I've +arranged with Aunt Marianna that Poole drives you +up to-morrow. You'll find her," he added, lightly, +"enthusiastic over the baby's pictures. They're really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +excellent, and I think Leslie will be delighted. And +now I have to go, Norma——"</p> + +<p>"But you're coming back to have dinner with us?" +the girl interrupted, thoroughly uneasy at the change +in him.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night. I have an engagement! Good-bye. +I'll see you very soon. The hat's charming, Norma, +I think you may safely order more of them by mail +if you have to. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>And with another odd smile, and his usually courteous +bow, he was gone, and Norma was left staring after +him in a state almost of stupefaction.</p> + +<p>What was the matter with him? The question +framed itself indignantly in Norma's mind as she +automatically crossed the foyer of the hotel and went +upstairs. Mechanically, blindly, she took off the big +hat, flung aside the parasol, and went through the +uniting bathroom into Mrs. Melrose's room. What +on earth had been the matter with Chris? What right +had he—how dared he—treat her so rudely?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose was in a flowered chair near a wide-opened +window. She had put on a lacy robe of thin +silk, after the heat and burden of the day, and her feet +were in slippers. Beside her was a tall glass, holding +an iced drink, and before her, on a small table, Regina +had ranged the beautiful photographs of Leslie's baby +that were to be the young mother's birthday surprise +next week.</p> + +<p>"Hello, dear!" she said, in the pleasant, almost +cooing voice with which she almost always addressed +the girls of the family, "isn't this just a dreadful, +dreadful day? Oh, my, so hot! Look here, Norma, +just see my little Patricia's pictures. Aren't they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +perfectly lovely? I'm <i>so</i> pleased with them. I was +just——Regina, will you order Miss Norma something +cool to drink, please. Tea, dear? Or lemonade, like +your old aunty?—I was just showing them to Chris. +Yes. And he thought they were just perfectly lovely; +see the little fat hand, and how beautifully the lace +took! There—that one's the best. You'll see, Leslie +will like that one."</p> + +<p>The topic, fortunately for Norma's agitation, was apparently +inexhaustible and all-absorbing. The girl +could sink almost unnoticed into an opposite chair, +and while her voice dutifully uttered sympathetic +monosyllables, and her eyes went from the portraits +of little Patricia idly about the big room, noting the +handsome old maple furniture, and the costly old +scrolled velvet carpet, and the aspect of flaming roofs +beyond the window in the sunset, her thoughts could +turn and twist agonizingly over this new mystery +and this new pain. What had been the matter with +Chris?</p> + +<p>Anger gave way to chill, and chill to utter heartsickness. +The cause of the change was unimportant, after +all; it was the change itself that was significant. +Norma's head ached, her heart was like lead. She +had been thinking, all the way down in the car—all +to-day—that she would meet him to-night; that they +would talk. Now what? Was this endless evening +to drag away on his terms, and were they to return to +Newport to-morrow, with only the memory of that +cool farewell to feed Norma's starving, starving soul?</p> + +<p>"Chris couldn't stay and have dinner," Mrs. Melrose +presently was regretting, "but, after all, perhaps it's +cooler up here than anywhere, and I am so tired that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +I'm not going to change! You'll just have to stand +me as I am."</p> + +<p>And the tired, heat-flushed, wrinkled old face, under +its fringe of gray hair, smiled confidently at Norma. +The girl smiled affectionately back.</p> + +<p>Five o'clock. Six o'clock. It was almost seven +when Norma came forth from a cold bath, and supervised +the serving of the little meal. She merely played +with her own food, and the old lady was hardly more +hungry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Aunt Marianna! I think that Leslie was +just terribly nervous, after Patricia was born. But +I think now, especially when they're back in their own +house, they'll be perfectly happy. No reason in the +world why they shouldn't be," Norma heard herself +saying. So they had been talking of Acton and +Leslie, she thought. Leslie was spoiled, and Acton +was extravagant, and the united families had been just +a little worried about their attitudes toward each +other. Mrs. Melrose was sure that Norma was right, +and rambled along the same topic for some time. +Then Norma realized that they had somehow gotten +around to Theodore, Leslie's father. This subject +was always good for half hours together, she could +safely ramble a little herself. The deadly weight fell +upon her spirit again. What had been the matter +with Chris?</p> + +<p>At nine o'clock her tired old companion began preparations +for bed, and Norma, catching up some magazines, +went into her own room. She could hear Regina +and Mrs. Melrose murmuring together, the running of +water, the opening and shutting of bureau drawers.</p> + +<p>Norma went to her open window, leaned out into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +the warm and brilliant night. There was a hot moon, +moving between clouds that promised, at last, a break +in the binding heat. Down the Avenue below her +omnibuses wheeled and rumbled, omnibuses whose +upper seats were packed with thinly clad passengers, +but otherwise there was little life and movement +abroad. A searchlight fanned the sky, fell and +wavered upward again. A hurdy-gurdy, in the side +street, poured forth the notes of the "Marseillaise."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, and almost without volition, the girl +snatched the telephone, and murmured a number. +Thought and senses seemed suspended while she waited.</p> + +<p>"Is this the Metropolitan Club? Is Mr. Christopher +Liggett there?... If you will, please. Thank +you. Say that it is a lady," said Norma, in a hurried +and feverish voice. The operator would announce +presently, of course, that Mr. Liggett was not there. +The chance that he was there was so remote——</p> + +<p>"Chris!" she breathed, all the tension and doubt +dropping from her like a garment at the sound of his +quiet tones. "Chris—this is Norma!"</p> + +<p>A pause. Her soul died within her.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Chris asked presently, in a repressed +voice.</p> + +<p>"Well—but were you playing cards?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You've had your dinner, Chris?"</p> + +<p>"No. Yes, I had dinner, of course. I dined with +Aunt Marianna—no, that was lunch! I dined here."</p> + +<p>"Chris," Norma faltered, speaking quickly as her +courage ebbed, "I didn't want to interrupt you, but +you seemed so—so different, this afternoon. And I +didn't want to have you cross at me; and I wondered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>—I've +been wondering ever since—if I have done something +that made you angry—that was stupid and—and——"</p> + +<p>She stopped. The forbidding silence on his part +was like a wall that crossed her path, was like a veil +that blinded and choked her.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," he said, quickly. "Where did you +get that idea?... Hello—hello—are you there, +Norma?" he added, when on her part in turn there +was a blank silence.</p> + +<p>For Norma, strangled by an uprising of tears as +sudden as it was unexpected and overwhelming, could +make no audible answer. Why she should be crying +she could not clearly think, but she was bathed in +tears, and her heart was heavy with unspeakable desolation.</p> + +<p>"Norma!" she heard him say, urgently. "What is it? +Norma——?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" she managed to utter, in a voice that +stemmed the flood for only a second.</p> + +<p>"Norma," Chris said, simply, "I am coming out. +Meet me downstairs in ten minutes. I want to see +you!"</p> + +<p>Both telephones clicked, and Norma found herself +sitting blankly in the sudden silence of the room, her +brain filled with a confusion of shamed and doubting +and fearful thoughts, and her heart flooded with +joy.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later she stepped from the elevator +into the lobby, and selected a big chair that faced +obliquely on the entrance doors. The little stir in +the wide, brightly lighted place always interested her +and amused her; women drifting from the dining-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>room +with their light wraps over their arms, messengers +coming and going, the far strains of the orchestra +mingling pleasantly with the nearer sounds of feet and +voices.</p> + +<p>To-night her spirit was soaring. Nothing mattered, +nothing of her doubts, nothing of his coldness, except +that Chris was even now coming toward her! Her +mind followed the progress of his motor-car, up +through the hot, deserted streets.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it seemed to her that she could not bear +the emotion of meeting. With every man's figure +that came through the wide-open doors her heart +thumped and pounded.</p> + +<p>His voice; she would hear it again. She would see +the gray eyes, and watch the firm, quick movement +of his jaw.</p> + +<p>Other men, meeting other women, or parting from +other women, came and went. Norma liked the big, +homely boy in olive drab, who kissed the little homely +mother so affectionately.</p> + +<p>She glanced at her wrist watch, twisted about to confirm +its unwelcome news by the big clock. Quarter to +ten, and no Chris. Norma settled down again to waiting +and watching.</p> + +<p>Ten o'clock. Quarter past ten. He was not coming! +No, although her sick and weary spirit rose +whenever there was the rush of a motor-car to the curb +or the footstep of a man on the steps outside, she knew +now that he was not coming. Hope deferred had exhausted +her, but hope dead was far, far worse. He was +not coming.</p> + +<p>It was almost half-past ten when a bell-boy approached. +Was it Miss Sheridan? Mr. Christopher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +Liggett had been called out of town, and would try to +see Mrs. Melrose in a day or two.</p> + +<p>Norma turned upon him a white face of fatigue.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Liggett on the telephone?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss. He just telephoned a message."</p> + +<p>The boy retired, and Norma went slowly upstairs, +and slowly made her preparations for sleep. But the +blazing summer dawn, smiting the city at four o'clock, +found her still sitting at the window, twirling a tassel +of the old-fashioned shade in her cold fingers, and +staring with haggard eyes into space.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">More</span> than a week later Annie gave a luncheon to +a dozen women, and telephoned Norma beforehand, +with a request that the girl come early enough to help +her with name cards.</p> + +<p>"These damnable engagement luncheons," said +Aunt Annie, limping about the long table, and grumbling +at everything as she went. Annie had wrenched +her ankle in alighting from her car, and was cross with +nagging pain. "Here, put Natalie next to Leslie, +Norma; no, that puts the Gunnings together. I'll +give you Miss Blanchard—but you don't speak French! +Here, give me your pencil—and confound these things +anyway——Fowler," she said to the butler, "I don't +like to see a thing like that on the table—carry that +away, please; and here, get somebody to help you +change this, that won't do! That's all right—only I +want this as you had it day before yesterday—and +don't use those, get the glass ones——"</p> + +<p>And so fussing and changing and criticizing, Annie +went away, and Norma followed her up to her bedroom.</p> + +<p>"I'm wondering when we're going to give <i>you</i> an engagement +luncheon, Norma," said the hostess, in a +whirl of rapid dressing. "Who's ahead now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—nobody!" Norma answered, with a mirthless +laugh. She had been listless and pale for several days, +and did not seem herself at all.</p> + +<p>"Forrest Duer, is it?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +"Oh, good heavens—Aunt Annie! He's twenty-one!"</p> + +<p>"Is that all—he's such a big whale!——Don't touch +my hair, Phoebe, it'll do very well!" said Annie to the +maid. "Well, don't be in too much of a hurry, Norma," +she went on kindly. "Nothing like being sure! +That"—Annie glanced at the retiring maid—"that's +what makes me nervous about Leslie," she confessed. +"I'm afraid we hurried the child into it just a little +bit. It was an understood thing since they were +nothing but kiddies."</p> + +<p>"Leslie is outrageously spoiled," Norma said, not +unkindly.</p> + +<p>"Leslie? Oh, horribly. Mama always spoils everyone +and poor Theodore spoiled her, too," Annie conceded.</p> + +<p>"She told me herself yesterday," Norma went on, +with a trace of her old animation, "that they've overdrawn +again. Now, Aunt Annie, I do think that's +outrageous! Chris straightened them all out last—when +was it?—June, after the baby came, and they +have an enormous income—thousands every month, +and yet they are deep in again!"</p> + +<p>"The wretched thing is that they quarrel about +that!" Annie agreed.</p> + +<p>"Well, exactly! That was what it was about day +before yesterday, and Leslie told me she cried all +night. And you know the other day she took Patricia +and came home to Aunt Marianna, and it was terrible!"</p> + +<p>"How much do you suppose the servants know of +that?" Annie asked, frowning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they <i>must</i> know!" Norma replied.</p> + +<p>"Foolish, foolish child! You know, Norma," Annie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +resumed, "Leslie comes by her temper naturally. She is +half French; her mother was a Frenchwoman—Louison +Courtot."</p> + +<p>"It's a pretty name," Norma commented. "Did +you know her?"</p> + +<p>"Know her? She was my maid when I was about +seventeen, a very superior girl. I used to practise +my French with her. She was extremely pretty. +After my father died my mother and I went to Florida, +and when we came back the whole thing broke. I +thought it would kill Mama! At first we thought +Theodore had simply gotten her into 'trouble,' to use +the dear old phrase. But <i>pas du tout</i>; she had 'ze +<i>mar-ri-age</i> certificate' all safe and sound. But he was +no more in love with her than I was—a boy nineteen! +Mama made her leave the house, and cut off Theodore's +allowance entirely, and for a while they were together—but +it couldn't last. Teddy got his divorce when he +went with Mama to California, but he was ill then, +though we didn't know it, poor boy! He lived five +years after that."</p> + +<p>"But he saw Leslie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, yes!" Annie said, buffing her twinkling +finger-nails, idly. "Didn't Mama ever tell you about +that?"</p> + +<p>"No, she never mentions it."</p> + +<p>"Well, that was awful, too—for poor Mama. About +four years after the divorce, one night when we were +all at home—it was just after Mama and I came back +from Europe, and the year before Hendrick and I +were married—suddenly there was a rush in the hall, +and in came Theodore's wife—Louison Courtot! It +seems Mama had been in touch with her ever since we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +returned, but none of us knew that. And she had Leslie +with her, a little thing about four years old—Leslie +just faintly remembers it. She had fought Mama off, +at first, about giving her baby up, but now she was +going to be married, and she had finally consented to +do as Mama wanted. Leslie came over to me, and +got into my lap, and went to sleep, I remember. Theodore +was terribly ill, and I remember that Louison +was quite gentle with him—surprised us all, in fact, +she was so mild. She had been a wild thing, but always +most self-respecting; a prude, in fact. She even +stooped over Theodore, and kissed him good-bye, and +then she knelt down and kissed Leslie, and went away. +Mama had intended that she should always see the +child, if she wanted to, but she never came again. +She was married, I know, a few weeks later, and long +afterward Mama told me that she was dead. Ted +came to adore the baby, and of course she's been the +greatest comfort to Mama, so it all turns out right, +after all. But we're a sweet family!" finished Annie, +rising to go downstairs. "And now," she added, on +the stairs, "if there were to be serious trouble between +Acton and Leslie——Well, it isn't thinkable!"</p> + +<p>Leslie herself, charming in a flowered silky dress, +with a wide flowery hat on her yellow hair, was waiting +for them in the big, shaded hallway. The little matron +was extremely attractive in her new dignities, and her +babyish face looked more ridiculously youthful than +ever as she talked of "my husband," "my little girl," +"my house," and "my attorney."</p> + +<p>Leslie, like Annie and Alice, was habitually wrapped +in her own affairs, more absorbed in the question of +her own minute troubles than in the most widespread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +abuses of the world. When Leslie saw a coat, the +identity of the wearer interested her far less than the +primary considerations of the coat's cut and material, +and the secondary decision whether or not she herself +would like such a garment. Consequently, she glanced +but apathetically at Norma; she had seen the dotted +blue swiss before, and the cornflower hat; she had +seen Aunt Annie's French organdie; there was nothing +there either to envy or admire.</p> + +<p>"How's the baby, dear; and how's Acton?" Annie +asked, perfunctorily. Leslie sighed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're both fine," she answered, indifferently. +"I've been all upset because my cook got married—just +walked out. I told Acton not to pay her, but +of course he did; it's nothing to him if my whole house +is upset by the selfishness of somebody else. He and +Chris are going off this afternoon with Joe and Denny +Page, for the Thousand Islands——"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know Chris was here!" Annie said, in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"I didn't, myself. He came up with Acton, late +last night. They'd motored all the way; I was asleep +when they got in. I didn't know it until I found him +at breakfast this morning——"</p> + +<p>Norma's heart stood still. The name alone was +enough to shake her to the very soul, but the thought +that he was here—in Newport—this minute, and that +she might not see him, probably indeed would not see +him, made her feel almost faint.</p> + +<p>She had not seen him since the meeting on the hotel +steps nearly two weeks ago. It had been the longest +and the saddest two weeks in Norma's life. It was in +vain that she reminded herself that her love for him was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +weakness and madness, and that by no possible shift of +circumstances could it come to happy consummation. +It was in vain that she pondered Alice's claims, and +all the family claims, and the general claim of society +as an institution. Deep and strong and unconquerable +above them all rose the tide of love and passion, the +gnawing and burning hunger for the sight of him, the +sound of his voice, the touch of his hand.</p> + +<p>Life had become for her a vague and changing dream, +with his name for its only reality. Somewhere in the +fog of days was Chris, and she would not live again +until she saw him. He must forgive her; he must +explain his coldness, explain the change in him, and +then she would be content just with the old friendliness, +just the old nearness and the occasional word together.</p> + +<p>Every letter that Joseph brought her, every call to +the telephone, meant to her only the poignant possibility +of a message from him. She sickened daily +with fresh despair, and fed herself daily with new hopes.</p> + +<p>To-day she was scarcely conscious of the hilarious +progress of the luncheon; she looked at the prospective +bride, in whose honour Aunt Annie entertained, only +with a pang of wonder. What was it like, the knowledge +that one was openly beloved, the miraculous +right to plan an unclouded future together? The +mere thought of being free to love Chris, of having +him free to claim her, almost dizzied Norma with its +vista of utter felicity. She had to drive it resolutely +from her mind. Not that—never that! But there +must at least be peace and friendship between them.</p> + +<p>At three o'clock the luncheon was over; it was half-past +three when Leslie and she drove to the Melrose +"cottage"—as the fourteen-room, three-story frame<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +house was called. Norma had searched the drive with +her eyes as they approached. The gray roadster was +not there. There was no sign of Christopher's hat +or coat in the hallway. Alice was alone, in her downstairs +sitting-room. Norma's heart sank like a lump +of ice.</p> + +<p>"Did you see Chris?" the invalid began, happily. +"We had the nicest lunch together—just we two. And +look at the books the angel brought me—just a feast. +You saw him, Leslie, didn't you, dear? He said he +caught you and Acton at breakfast. I was perfectly +amazed. Miss Slater moved me out here about eleven +o'clock, and I heard someone walking in——! He's +off now, with the Pages; he told you that, of course!"</p> + +<p>"He looks rotten, I think," Leslie offered. "I told +him he was working too hard."</p> + +<p>"Well, Judge Lee is sick, and he hasn't been in to the +office since June," Alice said, "and that makes it very +hard for Chris. But he says his room at the club is +cool, and now he'll have two or three lovely days with +the Page boys——"</p> + +<p>Norma, who had subsided quietly into a chair, was +looking at the yellow covers of the new French and +Italian novels.</p> + +<p>"And then does he come back here Monday, for the +tennis?" she asked, clearing her throat.</p> + +<p>"He says not!" Alice answered, regretfully. "He's +going straight on down to the city. Then next week-end +is the cruise with the Dwights; and after that, +I suppose we'll all be home!"</p> + +<p>She went on into a conversation with Leslie, relative +to the move. After a few moments Norma went out +through the opened French window onto the wide porch.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +It was rather a dark, old-fashioned side porch, with an +elaborate wooden railing, and potted hydrangeas under +a striped awning. The house had neither the magnificence +of Annie's gray-stone mansion or the beauty +of Leslie's colonial white and green at Glen Cove; it +had been built in the late eighties, and was inflexibly +ornate.</p> + +<p>Norma went down slowly through the garden, and +walked vaguely toward the hot glitter and roll of the +blue sea. Her misery was almost unbearable. Weeks—it +would be weeks before she would see him! He +had been here to-day—here in the garden—in Alice's +room, and she had not had a word or a sign.</p> + +<p>Children and nurses were on the beach, grouped in +the warm shade. The season was over, there were +yellow leaves in the hedges, Norma's feet rustled among +the dropped glory of the old trees. The world seemed +hot, dry, lifeless before her.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were dead!" she cried, passionately, for +the first time in her life.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Suddenly</span> and smoothly they were all transported +to town again, and the vigour and sparkle of the autumn +was exhilarating to Norma in spite of herself. +The Park was a glory of red and gold leaves; morning +came late, and the dew shone until ten o'clock; bright +mists rose smoking into the sunlight, and when Norma +walked home from a luncheon, or from an hour of +furious squash or tennis at the club, the early winter dusk +would be closing softly in, the mists returning, and the +lights of the long Mall in the park blooming round and +blue in the twilight.</p> + +<p>She was with Mrs. Melrose this winter, an arrangement +extremely welcome to the old lady, who was lonely +and liked the stir of young life in the house. Alice +had quite charmingly and naturally suggested the +change, and Norma's belongings had been moved away +from the little white room next to Miss Slater's.</p> + +<p>One reason for it was that Alice had had two nurses +all summer long, and found the increased service a great +advantage. Then Mama was all alone and not so +well as she had been; getting old, and reluctant to take +even the necessary exercise.</p> + +<p>"And then you're too young to be shut up with stupid +home-loving folk like Chris and me," Alice had told +Norma, lightly.</p> + +<p>"Your stupidity is proverbial, Aunt Alice," Norma +had laughed. She did not care where she went any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +more. Chris had greeted her casually, upon their +meeting in October, and had studiously, if inconspicuously, +ignored her. But even to see him at all was so +great a relief to her over-charged heart that for weeks +this was enough. She must meet him occasionally, +she heard his name every day, and she knew where he +was and what he was doing almost at every moment. +She treasured every look, every phrase of his, and she +glowed and grew beautiful in the conviction that, even +though he was still mysteriously angry with her, he +had that old consciousness of her presence, too; he +might hate her, but he could not ignore her.</p> + +<p>And then, in December, the whole matter reached a +sudden crisis, and Norma came to feel that she would +have been glad to have the matter go back to this +state of doubt and indecision again.</p> + +<p>Mrs. von Behrens was on the directorate of a working +girls' club that needed special funds every winter, and +this year the money was to be raised by an immense +entertainment, at which generous professional singers +were to be alternated on a brilliant programme with +society girls and men, in tableaux and choruses. +Norma, who had a charming if not particularly strong +voice, was early impressed into service, because she +was so good-natured, so dependable, and pretty and +young enough to carry off a delectable costume. The +song she sang had been specially written for the affair, +and in the quaint dance that accompanied it she was +drilled by the dance authority of the hour. A chorus +of eight girls and eight men was added to complete the +number, and the gaiety of the rehearsals, and the general +excitement and interest, carried the matter along to the +last and dress rehearsal with a most encouraging rush.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +Annie had originally selected Chris for Norma's +companion in the song, for Chris had a pleasant, presentable +voice, and Chris in costume was always adequate +to any rôle. Theatricals had been his delight, +all his life long, and among the flattering things that +were commonly said of Chris was that he had robbed +the stage of a great character actor.</p> + +<p>But Chris had begged off, to take a minor part in +another <i>ensemble</i>, and Norma had a youth named Roy +Gillespie for her partner. Roy was a big, fat, blond +boy, good-natured and stupid and rather in love with +Norma, and as the girl was entirely unconscious of +Annie's original plan, she was quite satisfied with him.</p> + +<p>The dress rehearsal was on a dark Thursday afternoon +before the Saturday of the performance. It took +place in the big empty auditorium, where it was to +drag along from twelve o'clock noon, until the preparations +for the regular evening performance drove the +amateurs, protesting, away. Snow was fluttering down +over the city when Annie, with Norma, and a limousine +full of properties, reached the place at noon; motor-cars +were wheeling and crowding in the side street, and it +seemed to Norma thrilling to enter so confidently at +the big, dirty, sheet-iron door lettered:</p> + +<p class="smcap center">"Stage Door. No Admittance."</p> + +<p>As always to the outsider, the wings, the shabby +dressing-rooms, the novel feeling of sauntering across +the big, dim stage, the gloom of the great rising arch +of the house, were full of charm. Voices and hammers +were sounding in the gloom; somebody was talking +hard while he fitfully played the piano; girls were giggling +and fluttering about; footlights flashed up and +down, in the front rows of seats a few mothers and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +maids had gathered. There was the sweet, strong +smell of some spicy disinfectant, and obscure figures, +up the aisles, were constantly sweeping and stooping.</p> + +<p>Annie had a chair in a wing. Her small fur hat and +trim suit had been selected for comfort; her knees were +crossed, and she had a sheaf of songs, a pencil, and various +note-books in her hands. She was alert, serious, +authoritative; her manner expressed an anxious certainty +that everything that could possibly go wrong +was about to do so. Men protested jovially to Annie, +girls whimpered and complained, maids delivered +staggering messages into her ear. Annie frowningly +yet sympathetically sent them all away, one by one; +persisted that the rehearsal proceed. Never mind the +hat, we could get along without the hat; never mind +Dixie Jadwin, someone could read her part; never +mind this, never mind that; go on, go on—we must +get on!</p> + +<p>At five o'clock she was very tired, and Norma, fully +arrayed, was tired, too. The girl had been sitting on a +barrel for almost an hour, patiently waiting for the +tardy Mr. Roy Gillespie to arrive, and permit their +particular song to be rehearsed. Everything that +could be done in the way of telephoning had been done: +Mr. Gillespie had left his office, he was expected momentarily +at his home, he should be given the message +immediately. Nothing to do but wait.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Norma's heart jumped to her throat, began +to hammer wildly. A man had come quietly in between +her and Annie, and she heard the voice that +echoed in her heart all day and all night. It was Chris.</p> + +<p>He did not see her, perhaps did not recognize her in a +casual glance, and began to talk to his sister-in-law<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +in low, quick tones. Almost immediately Annie exclaimed +in consternation, and called Norma.</p> + +<p>"Norma! Chris tells me that poor old Mr. Gillespie +died this afternoon. <i>That's</i> what's been the +matter. What on earth are we to do now? I declare +it's <i>too</i> much!"</p> + +<p>Norma got off her barrel. The great lighted stage +seemed to be moving about her as she went to join +them.</p> + +<p>What Chris saw strained his tried soul to its utmost +of endurance. He had not permitted himself to look +at her squarely for weeks. Now there was a new look, +a look a little sad, a little wistfully expectant, in the +lovely face. Her eyes burned deeply blue above the +touch of rouge and the crimson lips. Her dark, soft +hair fell in loose ringlets on her shoulders from under +the absurd little tipped and veiled hat of the late seventies. +Her gown, a flowered muslin, moved and tilted +with a gentle, shaking majesty over hoop skirts, and +was crossed on the low shoulders by a thin silk shawl +whose long fringes were tangled in her mitted fingers. +The white lace stockings began where the loose lace +pantalettes stopped, and disappeared into flat-heeled +kid slippers. Norma carried a bright nosegay in lace +paper, and on her breast a thin gold locket hung on a +velvet ribbon.</p> + +<p>She herself had been completely captivated by the +costume when Madame Modiste had first suggested it, +and when the first fittings began. But that was weeks +ago, and she was accustomed to it now, and conscious +in this instant of nothing but Chris, conscious of nothing +but the possibility that he would have a word or a +smile, at last, for her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +"Stay right here, both of you—don't move a step—while +I telephone Lucia Street!" said the harassed +Annie, her eyes glittering with some desperate hope. +She hurried away; they were alone.</p> + +<p>"Poor old Roy—he adored his father!" Chris said, +with dry lips, and in a rather unnatural voice. Norma, +for one second, simulated mere sympathy. Then +with a rush the pride and hurt that had sustained her +ever since that weary September evening in the hotel +lobby vanished, and she came close to Chris, so that +the fragrance and sweetness of her enveloped him, +and caught his coat with both her mitted hands, and +raised her face imploringly, commandingly to his.</p> + +<p>"Chris—for God's sake—what have I done? Don't +you know—don't you know that you're killing me?"</p> + +<p>He looked down at her, wretchedly. And suddenly +Norma knew. Not that he liked her, not that she +fascinated and interested him, not that they were +friends. But that he loved her with every fibre of his +being, even as she loved him.</p> + +<p>The revelation carried her senses away with it upon a +raging sea of emotion and ecstasy. He drew her into +a dim corner of the wings, and put his arms about her, +and her whole slender body, in its tilting hoops, strained +backward under the passion and fury of his first embrace. +Again and again his lips met hers, and she +heard the incoherent outpouring of murmured words, +and felt the storm that shook him as it was shaking her. +Norma, after the first kiss, grew limp, let herself rest +almost without movement in his arms, shut her eyes.</p> + +<p>Reason came back to them slowly; the girl almost +rocking upon her feet as the vertigo and bewilderment +passed, and the man sustaining her with an arm about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +her shoulders, neither looking at the other. So several +seconds, perhaps a full minute, went by, while the +world settled into place about them; the dingy, unpainted +wood of the wings, the near-by stage where +absorbed groups of people were still coming and going, +the distant gloom of the house.</p> + +<p>"So now you know!" Chris said, breathlessly, panting, +and looking away from her, with his hands hanging +at his sides. "Now you know! I've tried to keep it +from you! But now—now you know!"</p> + +<p>Norma, also breathing hard, did not answer for a +little space.</p> + +<p>"I've known since that time we were in town, in +September!" she said, almost defiantly. Chris looked +toward her, surprised, and their eyes met. "I've +known what was the matter with <i>me</i>," she added, +thoughtfully, even frowning a little in her anxiety to +make it all clear, "but I couldn't imagine what it was +with <i>you</i>!"</p> + +<p>But this brought him to face her, so close that she felt +the same sense of drowning, of losing her footing, again.</p> + +<p>"Chris—please!" she whispered, in terror.</p> + +<p>"But, Norma—say it! Say that you love me—that's +all that matters now! I've been losing my mind, +I think. I've been losing my mind. Just that—that +you do care!"</p> + +<p>"I have——" Tears came to her lifted blue eyes, and +she brushed them away without moving her gaze from +him. "I think I have always loved you, Chris—from +the very first," she whispered.</p> + +<p>Instantly she saw his expression change. It was as +if, with that revelation, a new responsibility began for +him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +"Here, dear, you mustn't cry!" he said, composedly. +He gave her his handkerchief, helped her set the tipped +hat and lace veil straight, smiled reassurance and courage +into her eyes. "I'll see you, Norma—we'll talk," +he said. "Oh, my God, to talk to you again! Come, +now, we'll have to be here when Annie comes back—that's +right. I—I love the little gown—terribly +sweet. I haven't seen it before, you know; my crowd +has done all its rehearsing at Mrs. Hitchcock's. Here's +Annie now——"</p> + +<p>"Christopher," said Annie, in deadly, almost angry +earnest, as she came up desperate and weary, "you'll +have to sing this thing with Norma. Burgess Street +absolutely refuses. He's in the chorus, and he sings, +but he simply won't do a solo! His mother says he +has a cold, and so on, and I swear I'll throw the +whole thing up; I will, indeed!—rather than have this +number ruined. There's no earthly reason why you +can't do both—of course the poor old man couldn't +help dying—but if you knew——"</p> + +<p>"My dear girl, of course I'll do it!" All the youth +and buoyancy that had been missing from his voice +for weeks had come back. Christopher laughed his +old delightful laugh. "I'll have to have Roy's costume +cut down, but Smithers will do it for me. I'll do my +very best——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris, God bless you," Annie said. "You'll +do it better than he ever did. Take my car and stop +for his suit, and express whatever's decent—the +funeral will be Saturday morning and we'll all have to +go, but there's no help for it. And come to my house for +dinner, and you and Norma can go over it afterward; +you poor girl, you're tired out, but it's such a Godsend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +to have Chris fill in. And it will be the prettiest +number of all."</p> + +<p>Tired out? The radiant girl who was tripping away +to change to street attire was hardly conscious that +her feet touched the ground. The stage, the theatre, +the fur coat into which she buttoned herself, the fragrance +of the violets she wore, were all touched with +beauty and enchantment.</p> + +<p>Snow was still falling softly, when she and Annie +went out to the car. Annie was so exhausted that she +could hardly move, but Norma floated above things +mortal. The dark sidewalk was powdered with what +scrunched under their shoes like dry sugar, and up +against the lighted sky the flakes were twirling and +falling. The air was sweet and cold and pure after +the hot theatre. Chris put them in the motor-car. +He would see his tailor, have a bite of dinner at home, +and be at Annie's at eight o'clock for the rehearsal.</p> + +<p>"I'll do something for you, for this, Norma!" her +aunt assured the girl, gratefully. Norma protested +in a voice that was almost singing. It was nothing at +all!</p> + +<p>She felt suddenly happy and light. It was all right; +there was to be no more agony and doubt. Alice +should lose nothing, the world should know nothing, +but Chris loved her! She could take his friendship +fearlessly, there would be nothing but what was good +and beautiful and true between them. But what a +changed world!</p> + +<p>What a changed room it was into which she danced, +to brush her hair for dinner, and laugh into her mirror, +where the happy girl with starry eyes and blazing +cheeks laughed back. What a changed dinner table,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +at which the old lady drowsed and cooed! Norma's +blood was dancing, her head was in a whirl, she was +hardly conscious that this soaring and singing soul +of hers had a body.</p> + +<p>At eight she and Mrs. Melrose went to Mrs. von +Behrens's, and Norma and Chris went through the song +again and again and again, for the benefit of a small +circle of onlookers. Hendrick, who had sworn that +wild horses would not drag him to the entertainment, +sat with a small son in his lap, and applauded tirelessly. +Annie criticized and praised alternately. Mrs. +Melrose went to sleep, and Annie's new secretary, a +small, lean, dark girl of perhaps twenty-two, passionately +played the music. Norma knew exactly how +this girl felt, how proud she was of her position, how +anxious to hold it, and how infinitely removed from +her humble struggle the beautiful Miss Sheridan +seemed! Yet she herself had been much the same +less than two years ago!</p> + +<p>Norma could have laughed aloud. She envied no +one to-night. The mystery and miracle of Chris's +love for her was like an ermine mantle about her +shoulders, and like a diadem upon her brows. Annie +was delighted with her, and presently told her she had +never before sung so well.</p> + +<p>"I suppose practice makes perfect!" the girl answered, +innocently. She was conscious of no hypocrisy. +No actress enjoying a long-coveted part could have +rejoiced in every word and gesture more than she. +Just to move, under his eyes, to laugh or to be serious, +to listen dutifully to Annie and the old lady, to flirt +with Baby Piet, was ecstasy enough.</p> + +<p>They had small opportunity for asides. But that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +was of no consequence. All the future was their own. +They would see each other to-morrow—or next day; +it did not matter. Norma's hungry heart had something +to remember, now—a very flood-tide of memories. +She could have lived for weeks upon this one day's +memories.</p> + +<p>Norma and Chris were placed toward the centre of +the first half of the programme on the triumphant +Saturday night, and could escape from the theatre +before eleven o'clock to go home to tell Alice all about +it. Chris played the song, on his own piano, and +Norma modestly and charmingly went through it +again, to the invalid's great satisfaction. Alice, when +Norma and her mother were gone, tried to strike a +spark of enthusiasm from her husband as to the girl's +beauty and talent, but Chris was pleasantly unresponsive.</p> + +<p>"She got through it very nicely; they all did!" +Chris admitted, indifferently.</p> + +<p>"When you think of the upbringing she had, Chris, a +little nameless nobody," Alice pursued. "When you +think that until last year she had actually never seen +a finger-bowl, or spoken to a servant!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" Chris said, briefly. Alice, who was facing +the fire, did not see him wince. She was far from suspecting +that he had at that moment a luncheon engagement +for the next day with Norma, and that during +the weeks that followed they met by appointment +almost every day, and frequently by chance more +often than that.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">In the</span> beginning, these were times brimful of happiness +for Norma. She would meet Chris far down town, +among the big, cold, snowbound office-buildings, and +they would loiter for two hours at some inconspicuous +table in a restaurant, and come wandering out into +the cold streets still talking, absorbed and content. +Or she would rise before him from a chair in one of the +foyers of the big hotels, at tea time, and they would find +an unobserved corner for the murmur that rose and fell, +rose and fell inexhaustibly. Tea and toast unobserved +before them, music drifting unheard about them, furred +and fragrant women coming and going; all this was but +the vague setting for their own thrilling drama of love +and confidence. They would come out into the darkness, +Norma tucking herself beside him in the roadster, +last promises and last arrangements made, until to-morrow.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the girl even accompanied him to Alice's +room, to sit at the invalid's knee, and chatter with a +tact and responsiveness that Alice found an improvement +upon her old amusing manner. So free was +Norma in these days from any sense of guilt that she +felt herself nothing but generous toward Alice, in sparing +the older woman some of the excess of joy and companionship +in which she was so rich.</p> + +<p>But very swiftly the first complete satisfaction in the +discovery of their mutual love began to wane, or rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +to be overset with the difficulties by which Norma, +and many another more brilliant and older woman, +must inevitably be worsted. Her meetings with +Chris, innocent and open as they seemed, were immediately +threatened by the sordid danger of scandal. +To meet him once, twice, half-a-dozen times, even, +was safe enough. But when each day of separation +became for them both only an agony of waiting until +the next day that should unite them, and when all +Norma's self-control was not enough to keep her from +the telephone summons that at least gave her the sound +of his voice, then the world began to be cognizant +that something was in the air.</p> + +<p>The very maids at Mrs. Melrose's house knew that +Miss Sheridan was never available any more, never to +be traced to the club, to young Mrs. Liggett's, or to +Mrs. von Behrens's house, with a telephone message or +an urgent letter. Leslie knew that Norma hated +girls' luncheons; Annie asked Hendrick idly why he +supposed the child was always taking long walks—or +saying that she took long walks—and Hendrick, later +speculating himself as to the inaccessibility of Chris, +was perhaps the first in the group to suspect the truth.</p> + +<p>A quite accidental and innocent hint from Annie +overwhelmed Norma with shame and terror, and she +and Chris, in earnest consultation, decided that they +must be more discreet. But this was slow and difficult +work, after the radiant first plunge into danger. Despite +their utmost resolution, Chris would find her out, +Norma would meet him halfway, and even under +Leslie's very eyes, or in old Mrs. Melrose's actual +presence, the telephone message, or the quicker signals +of eyes and smile, would forge the bond afresh.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +Even when Norma really did start off heroically +upon a bracing winter walk, determined to shake off, +in solitude and exercise, the constant hunger for his +presence, torturing possibilities would swarm into her +mind, and weaken her almost while she thought them +banished. She could catch him at his club; she might +have just five minutes of him did she choose to telephone.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she would resist the temptation, and go +home nervous, high-strung, excitable—the evening +stretching endlessly before her—without him. Aunt +Annie and Hendrick coming, Leslie and Acton coming, +the prospect of the decorous family dinner would +drive her almost to madness. She would dress in a +feverish dream, answer old Mrs. Melrose absently or +impatiently, speculating all the time about him. Where +was he? When would they meet again?</p> + +<p>And then perhaps Leslie would casually remark that +Chris had said he would join them for coffee, or Joseph +would summon her gravely to the telephone. Then +Norma began to live again, the effect of the lonely +walk and the heroic resolutions swept away, nothing—nothing +was in the world but the sound of that reassuring +voice, or the prospect of that ring at the bell, +and that step in the hall.</p> + +<p>So matters went on for several weeks, but they were +weeks of increasing uneasiness and pain for Norma, +and she knew that Chris found them even less endurable +than she. The happy hours of confidence and happiness +grew fewer and fewer, and as their passion strengthened, +and the insuperable obstacles to its natural development +impressed them more and more forcibly, +miserable and anxious times took their place. Their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +love was no sooner acknowledged than both came to +realize how mad and hopeless it was, and that no +reiteration of its intensity and no argument could ever +give them a gleam of hope.</p> + +<p>If Norma had drifted cheerfully and recklessly into +this situation, she paid for it now, when petty restrictions +and conventions stung her like so many bees, +and when she could turn nowhere for relief from constant +heartache and the sickening monotony of her +thoughts. She could not have Chris; she could not +give him up. Hours with him were only a degree more +bearable than hours without him.</p> + +<p>When he spoke hopefully of a possible change, of +"something" making their happiness possible, she +would turn on him like a little virago. Yet if he despaired, +tears would come to Norma's eyes, and she +would beg him almost angrily to change his tone, or +she would disgrace them both by beginning to cry.</p> + +<p>Norma grew thin and fidgety, able to concentrate +her mind on nothing, and openly indifferent to the +society she had courted so enthusiastically a year ago. +It was a part of her suffering that she grew actually +to dislike Alice, always so suave and cheerful, always +so serenely sure of Chris's devotion. What right had +this woman, who had been rich and spoiled and guarded +all her life, to hold him away from the woman he loved? +Chris had been chained to this couch for years, reading, +playing his piano, infinitely solicitous and sympathetic. +But was he to spend all his life thus? Was there to be +no glorious companionship, no adventure, no deep +and satisfying love for Chris, ever in this world? +Norma wished no ill to Alice, but she hated a world +that could hold Alice's claim legitimate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +"Why should it be so?" she said to Chris one day, +bitterly. "Why, when all my life was going so happily, +did I have to fall in love with you, I wonder? It could +so easily have been somebody else!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" Chris answered, soberly, flinging +away his half-finished cigarette, and folding his arms +over his chest, as he stared through a screen of bare +trees at the river. It was a March day of warm airs +and bursting buds; the roads were running water, +and every bank and meadow oozed the thawing streams, +but there was no green yet. Chris had come for the +girl at three o'clock, just as she was starting out for +one of her aimless, unhappy tramps, and had carried +her off for a twenty-five-mile run to the quiet corner of +the tavern's porch in Tarrytown where they were +having tea. "I suppose that's just life. Things go so +rottenly, sometimes!"</p> + +<p>Norma's eyes watered as she pushed the untasted +toast away from her, cupped her chin in her hands, and +stared at the river in her turn.</p> + +<p>"Chris, if I could go back, I think I'd never speak to +you!" she said, wretchedly.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't say that," he reproached her. "My +darling; surely it's brought you some happiness?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," Norma conceded, lifelessly, after a +silence. "But I can't go on!" she protested, suddenly. +"I can't keep this up! I suppose I've done something +very wicked, to be punished this way. But, Chris, I +loved you from the very first day I ever saw you, in +Biretta's Bookstore, I think. I can't sleep," she stammered, +piteously, "and I am so afraid all the time!"</p> + +<p>"Afraid of what?" the man asked, very low.</p> + +<p>She faced him, honestly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +"You know what! Of you—of me. It can't go on. +You know that. And yet——" And Norma looked +far away, her beautiful weary eyes burning in her white +face. "And yet, I can't stop it!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Chris, don't let's fool ourselves!" she interrupted +his protest impatiently. "Weeks ago, <i>weeks</i> +ago!—we said that we would see each other less, +that it would taper off. We tried. It's no use! If +we were in different cities—in different families, even! +I tell myself that it will grow less and less," she +added presently, as the man watched her in silence, +"but oh, my God!—how long the years ahead look!"</p> + +<p>And Norma put her head down on the table, pressed +her white fingers suddenly against her eyes with a +gesture infinitely desolate and despairing, and he knew +that she was in tears. Then there was a long silence.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Norma," said Chris, suddenly, in a +quiet, reasonable tone. "I am thirty-eight. I've +had affairs several times in my life, two or three before +I married Alice, two or three since. They've never been +very serious, never gone very deep. When we were +married I was twenty-four. I know women like to +pretend that I'm an awful killer when I get going," he +interrupted himself to say boyishly, "but there was +really never anything of that sort in my life. I liked +Alice, I remember my mother talking to me a long time, +and telling me how pleased everyone would be if we +came to care for each other, and—upon my honour!—I +was more surprised than anything else, to think that +any one so pretty and sweet would marry me! I don't +think there's a woman in the world that I admire more. +But, Norma, I've lived her life for ten years. I want +my own now! I want my companion—my chum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>—my +wife. I've played with women since I was seventeen. +But I never loved any woman before. Norma, +there's no life ahead for me, without you. And there's +no place so far—so lonely—so strange—but what it +would be heaven for me if you were there, looking at +me as you are now, and with this little hand where it +belongs! My dear, the city is a blank—the men I +meet might just as well be wooden Indians; I can't +breathe and I can't eat or sleep. Get better? It +gets worse! It can't go on!"</p> + +<p>She was crying again. They were almost alone now. +A red spring sun was sinking, far down the river, and +all the world—the opposite shores, the running waters +of the Hudson—was bathed in the exquisite glow. +Norma fumbled with her left hand for her little handkerchief, +her right hand clinging tight to Chris's hand.</p> + +<p>"Now, Norma, I've been thinking," the man said, +in a matter-of-fact tone, after a pause. "The first consideration +is, that this sort of thing can't go on!"</p> + +<p>"No; this can't go on!" she agreed, quickly. "Every +day makes it more dangerous, and less satisfying! I +never"—her eyes watered again—"I never have a +happy second!" she said.</p> + +<p>Chris looked at her, looked thoughtfully away.</p> + +<p>"The great trouble with the way I feel to you, +Norma," he said, quietly, "is that it seems to blot every +other earthly consideration from view. I see nothing, +I think nothing, I hear nothing—but you!"</p> + +<p>"And is that so terrible?" Norma asked, touched, +and smiling through tears.</p> + +<p>"No, it is so wonderful," he answered, gravely, "that +it blinds me. It blinds me to your youth, my dear, your +inexperience—your faith in me! It makes me only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +remember that I need you—and want you—and that +I believe I could make you the happiest woman in the +world!"</p> + +<p>The faint shadow of a frown crossed her forehead, and +she slowly shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not divorce!" she said, lightly, but inflexibly. They +had been over this ground before. "No, there's no +use in thinking of that! Even if it were not for Aunt +Alice, and Aunt Marianna, other things make it impossible. +You see that, Chris? Yes, I know!"—she +interrupted herself quickly, as Chris protested, "I +know what plenty of good people, and the law, and +society generally think. But of course it would mean +that we could not live here for awhile, anyway! No—that's +not thinkable!"</p> + +<p>"No, that's not thinkable," he agreed, slowly; "I am +bound hand and foot. It isn't only what Alice—as a +wife—claims from me. But there are Acton and Leslie; +there is hardly a month that my brother doesn't +propose some plan that would utterly wreck their +affairs if I didn't put my foot down. They're both +absolute children in money matters; Judge Lee is +getting old—there's no one to take my place. Your +Aunt Marianna, too; I've always managed everything +for her. No; I'm tied."</p> + +<p>His voice fell. For awhile they sat silent, in the +lingering, cool spring twilight, while the red glow faded +slowly from the river, and from the opposite banks +where houses and roofs showed between the bare trees.</p> + +<p>"But what can we do, Norma? I've tried—I've +tried a thousand times, to see the future, without you. +But I simply can't go on living on those terms. There's +nothing—nothing—nothing! I go to the piano, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +before I touch a note, the utter blank futility of it +comes over me and sickens me! It's the same in the +office, and at the club; I seem to be only half alive. +If it could be even five years ahead—or ten years ahead—I +would wait. But it's never—never. No hope—nothing +to live for! Life is simply over—only one +doesn't die."</p> + +<p>The girl had never heard quite this note of despair +from him before, and her heart sank.</p> + +<p>"You are young," he said, after a minute, and in a +lighter tone, "and perhaps—some day——"</p> + +<p>"No, don't believe that, Chris," Norma said, quietly. +And with a gesture full of pain she leaned her elbow +on the table, and pressed her hand across her eyes. +"There will never be anybody else!" she said. "How +could there be? You are the only person—like yourself!—that +I have ever known!"</p> + +<p>The simplicity of her words, almost their childishness, +made Chris's eyes smart. He bit his lips, trying to +smile.</p> + +<p>"It's too bad, isn't it?" he said, whimsically.</p> + +<p>Norma flung back her head, swallowing tears. She +gathered gloves and hand-bag, got to her feet. He +followed her as she walked across the darkening porch. +They went down to the curving sweep of driveway +where the car waited, the big lighted eyes of other cars +picking it out in the gloom. The saturated ground +gave under Norma's feet, the air was soft and full +of the odorous promise of blossom and leaf. A great +star was trembling in the opal sky, which still palpitated, +toward the horizon, with the pale pink and blue +of the sunset. Dry branches clicked above their heads, +in a sudden soft puff of breeze.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +Norma, as she tucked herself in beside Chris, felt +emotionally exhausted, felt a sudden desperate need +for solitude and silence. The world seemed a lonely +and cruel place.</p> + +<p>Almost without a word he drove her home, to the +old Melrose house, and came in with her to the long, +dim drawing-room for a brief good-night. He had +not kissed her more than two or three times since the +memorable night of the dress rehearsal, but he kissed +her to-night, and Norma felt something solemn, something +renunciatory, in the kiss.</p> + +<p>They had but an unsatisfactory two or three minutes +together; Mrs. Melrose might descend upon them at +any second, was indeed audible in the hall when Chris +said suddenly:</p> + +<p>"You are not as brave—as your mother, Norma!"</p> + +<p>She met his eyes with something like terror in her +own; standing still, a few feet away from him, with her +breath coming and going stormily.</p> + +<p>"No," she said in a sharp whisper. "Not <i>that</i>!"</p> + +<p>A moment later she was flying upstairs, her blue +eyes still dilated with fright, her face pale, and her +senses rocking. Unseeing, unhearing, she reached +her own room, paced it distractedly, moving between +desk and dressing-table, window and bed, like some bewildered +animal. Sometimes she put her two hands +over her face, the spread fingers pressed against her +forehead. Sometimes she stood perfectly still, arms +hanging at her sides, eyes blankly staring ahead. +Once she dropped on her knees beside the bed, and +buried her burning cheeks against the delicate linen +and embroideries.</p> + +<p>Regina came in; Norma made a desperate attempt to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +control herself. She saw a gown laid on the bed, heard +bath water running, faced her own haggard self in the +mirror, as she began dressing. But when the maid +was gone, and Norma, somewhat pale, but quite self-possessed +again, was dressed for dinner, she lifted from +its place on her book-shelf a little picture of Chris and +herself, taken the summer before, and studied it with +sorrowful eyes.</p> + +<p>He had been teaching her to ride, and Norma was +radiant and sun-browned in her riding-trousers and +skirted coat, her cloud of hair loosened, and her smart +little hat in one hand. Chris, like all well-built men, was +always at his best in sports clothes; the head of his +favourite mare looked mildly over his shoulder. Behind +the group stretched the exquisite reaches of bridle-path, +the great trees heavy with summer foliage and heat.</p> + +<p>Norma touched her lips to the glass.</p> + +<p>"Chris—Chris—Chris!" she said, half aloud. "I +love you so—and I have brought you, of all men, to +this! To the point when you would throw it all aside—everything +your wonderful and generous life has +stood for—for me! God," said Norma, softly, putting +the picture down, and covering her face with +her hands, "don't let me do anything that will hurt +him and shame him; help me! Help us both!"</p> + +<p>A few minutes later she went down to dinner, which +commenced auspiciously, with the old lady in a gracious +and expansive mood, and her guests, old Judge Lee and +his wife, and old Doctor and Mrs. Turner, sufficiently +intimate, and sufficiently reminiscent, to absolve +Norma from any conversational duty. The girl could +follow her own line of heroic and resolute thought uninterruptedly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +But with the salad came utter rout again, and +Norma's colour, and heart, and breath, began to fluctuate +in a renewed agony of hope and fear. It was only +Joseph, leaning deferentially over Judge Lee's shoulder, +who said softly:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Christopher Liggett, Judge. He has telephoned +that he would like to see you for a moment +after dinner, and will be here at about nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>The dinner went on, for Norma, in a daze. At a +quarter to nine she went upstairs; she was standing in +the dark upper hallway at the window when Chris came, +saw him leave his car, and come quickly across the +sidewalk under the bare, moving boughs of the old +maples. She was trembling with the longing just to +speak to him again, just to hear his voice.</p> + +<p>She went to her room, rang for Regina, meditating +a message of good-night that should include a headache +as excuse. But before the maid came she went quickly +downstairs, and into his presence, as instinctively as a +drowning man might cling to anything that meant +air—just the essential air. They could not exchange +a word alone, but that was not important. The one +necessity was to be together.</p> + +<p>Before ten o'clock Norma went back to her room. +She undressed, and put on a loose warm robe, and seated +herself before the old-fashioned fireplace. When Regina +came, she asked the girl to put out all the lights.</p> + +<p>Voices floated up from the front hall: the great entrance +door closed, the motors wheeled away. The +guests were gone—Chris was gone. Norma heard +old Mrs. Melrose come upstairs, heard her door shut, +then there was silence.</p> + +<p>Silence. Eleven struck from Madison Tower; mid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>night +struck. Even the streets were quieter now. +The squares of moonlight shifted on Norma's floor, went +away. The fire died down, the big room was warm, +and dim, and very still.</p> + +<p>Hugged in her warm wrap, curled into her big chair, +the girl sat like some tranced creature, thinking—thinking—thinking.</p> + +<p>At first her thoughts were of terror and shame. In +what fool's paradise had she been drifting, she asked +herself contemptuously, that she and Chris, reasonable, +right-thinking man and woman, could be reduced to +this fearful and wretched position, could even consider—even +name—what their sane senses must shrink +from in utter horror! Norma was but twenty-two, +but she knew that there was only one end to that road.</p> + +<p>So that way was closed, even to the brimming tide +that rose up in her when she thought of it, and flooded +her whole being with the ecstatic realization of her love +for Chris, and of what surrender to him would mean.</p> + +<p>That way was closed. She must tell herself over and +over. For her own sake, for the sake of Aunt Kate and +Aunt Marianna, for Rose even, she must not think of +that. Above all, for his sake—for Chris, the fine, good, +self-sacrificing Chris of her first friendship, she must be +strong.</p> + +<p>And Norma, at this point in her circling and confused +thoughts, would drop her face in the crook of her bent +arm, and the tears would brim over again and again. +She was not strong. She could not be strong. And +she was afraid.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Regina</span>, coming through the hallway at seven +o'clock, was amazed to encounter Miss Sheridan, +evidently fresh from a bath, a black hat tipped over her +smiling eyes, and her big fur coat belted about her. +Norma's vigil had lasted until after two o'clock, but +then she had had four hours of restful sleep, for she +knew that she had found the way.</p> + +<p>She left a message with Regina for Mrs. Melrose; +she was going to Mrs. Sheridan's, and would telephone +in a day or two. Smiling, she slipped out into the +quiet street, where the autumn sunlight was just beginning +to strike across the damp pavements, and smilingly +she disappeared into the great currents of men and +women who were already pouring to and fro along the +main thoroughfares.</p> + +<p>But she did not go quite as far as her aunt's, after +all. For perhaps fifteen minutes she waited on the +corner of the block, walking slowly to and fro, watching +the house closely.</p> + +<p>Then Wolf Sheridan came out, and set off at his usual +brisk walk toward the subway. Norma stepped before +him, trembling and smiling.</p> + +<p>"Nono—for the Lord's sake! Where did you come +from?"</p> + +<p>He took her suit-case from her as she caught his arm, +drew him aside, and looked up at him with her old +childish air of coaxing.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +"Wolf——! I've been waiting for you. Wolf, I'm +in trouble!" She laughed at his concern. "Not real +trouble!" she reassured him, quickly. "But—but——"</p> + +<p>And suddenly tears came, and she found she could +not go on.</p> + +<p>"Is it a man?" Wolf asked, looking down at her +with everything that was brotherly and kind in his +young face.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Norma answered, not raising her eyes from +the overcoat button that she was pushing in and out +of its hold. "Wolf," she added, quickly, "I'm afraid of +him, and afraid of myself! You—you told me months +ago——" She looked up, suffocating.</p> + +<p>"I know what I told you!" Wolf said, clearing his +throat.</p> + +<p>"And—do you still feel—that way?"</p> + +<p>"You know I do, Norma," Wolf said, more concerned +for her emotion than his own. "Do you—do +you want me to send this—this fellow about his +business?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" she said, laughing nervously. "I don't +want any one to know it; nobody must dream it! I +can't marry him, I shall never marry him. But—he +won't let me alone. Wolf——" She seemed to +herself to be getting no nearer her point, and now she +seized her courage in both hands, and looked up at +him bravely. "Will you—take care of me?" she +faltered. "I mean—I mean as your wife?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean——" Wolf began. Then his expression +changed, and his colour rose. "Norma—you don't +mean that!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I do!" she said, exquisite and flushed and +laughing, in the sweet early sunlight.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +"You mean that you will marry me?" Wolf asked, +dazedly.</p> + +<p>"To-day!" she answered, fired by his look of awe +and amazement and rapture all combined. "I want +to be safe," she added, quickly. "I trust you more than +any other man I know—I've loved you like a little +sister all my life."</p> + +<p>"Ah—Norma, you darling—you darling!" he said. +"But are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite sure!" Norma turned him toward Broadway, +her little arm linked wife-fashion in his. "Don't +we go along together nicely?" she asked, gaily.</p> + +<p>"Norma—my God! If you knew how I love you—how +I've longed for you! But I can't believe it; I +never will believe it! What made you do it?"</p> + +<p>Her face sobered for a second.</p> + +<p>"Just needing you, I suppose! Wolf"—her colour +rose—"I want you to know who it is; it's Chris."</p> + +<p>"Who—the man who annoys you?" Wolf asked in +healthy distaste.</p> + +<p>"The man I'm afraid of," she answered, honestly.</p> + +<p>"But—Lord!" Wolf exclaimed, simply, "he has a +wife!"</p> + +<p>"I know it!" the girl said, quickly. "But I wanted +you to know. I want you to know why I'm running +away from them all." Relief rang in her voice as his +delighted eyes showed no cloud. "That's all!" she +said.</p> + +<p>"Norma, I can't—my God!—I can't tell whether I'm +awake or dreaming!" Wolf was all joy again. "We'll—wait +a minute!—we'll get a taxi; I'll telephone the +factory later——" He paused suddenly. "Mother's +in East Orange with Rose. Shall we go there first?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +"No; you're to do as I say from now on, Wolf!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you darling!"</p> + +<p>"And I say let's be married first, and then go and +see Rose."</p> + +<p>"Norma——" He stopped in the street, and put +his two hands on her shoulders. "I'll be a good +husband to you. You'll never be sorry you trusted +me. Dearest, it's—well, it's the most wonderful +thing that ever happened in my whole life! Here's +our taxi—wait a minute; what day is this?"</p> + +<p>"Whatever else it is," she said, half-laughing and half-crying, +"I know it is my wedding day!"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">To Rose</span> and her mother, Wolf's and Norma's marriage +remained one of the beautiful surprises of life; +one of the things that, as sane mortals, they had dared +neither to dream nor hope. Life had been full enough +for mother and daughter, and sweet enough, that March +morning, even without the miracle. The baby had been +bathed, in a flood of dancing sunshine, and had had his +breakfast out under the budding bare network of the +grape arbour. The little house had been put into +spotless order while he slept, and Rose had pinned on +her winter hat, and gone gaily to market, with exactly +one dollar and seventy-five cents in her purse. And +she had come back to find her mother standing beside +the shabby baby-coach, in the tiny backyard, looking +down thoughtfully at the sleeping child, and evidently +under the impression that she was peeling the apples, +in the yellow bowl that rested on her broad hip. Rose +had also studied her son for a few awed seconds, and +then, reminding her mother that it was past twelve +o'clock, had led the way toward tea-making, and the +general heating and toasting and mincing of odds +and ends for luncheon. And they had been in the +kitchen, talking over the last scraps of this meal, +when——</p> + +<p>When there had been laughter and voices at the +open front doorway, and when Mrs. Sheridan's startled +"Wolf!" had been followed by Rose's surprised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +"Norma!" Then they had come in, Wolf and Norma, +laughing and excited and bubbling with their great +news. And in joy and tears, confused interruptions +and exclamations, explanations that got nowhere, +and a plentiful distribution of kisses, somehow it got +itself told. They had been married an hour ago—Norma +was Wolf's wife!</p> + +<p>The girl was radiant. Never in her life had these +three who loved her seen her so beautiful, so enchantingly +confident and gay. Rose and her mother had +some little trouble, later on, in patching the sequence +of events together for the delighted but bewildered +Harry, Rose's husband. But there could be no +doubt, even to the shrewd eyes of her Aunt Kate, that +Norma was ecstatically happy. Her mad kisses for +Rose, the laughter with which she described the expedition +to bank and jeweller, the license bureau and the +church in Jersey City—for in order to have the ceremony +performed immediately it had been necessary +to be married in New Jersey—her delicious boldness +toward the awed and rapturous and almost stupefied +Wolf, were all proof that she entertained not even the +usual girlish misgivings of the wedding day.</p> + +<p>"You see, I've not been all tired out with trousseau +and engagement affairs and photographers and milliners +and all that," she explained, gaily. "I've only +got what's in my bag there, but I've wired Aunt +Marianna, and told her to tell them all. And we'll +be back on Monday—wait until I ask my husband; +Wolftone, dear, shall we be back on Monday?"</p> + +<p>She had the baby in her lap; they were all in the +dining-room. Rose had been assured that the bride and +groom were not hungry; they had had sandwiches some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>where—some +time—oh, down near the City Hall in +Jersey City. But Rose had made more tea, and more +toast, and she had opened her own best plum jam, and +they were all eating with the heartiness of children. Presently +Norma went to get in Aunt Kate's lap, and asked +her if she was glad, and made herself so generally +engaging and endearing, with her slender little body +clasped in the big motherly arms and her soft face +resting against the older, weather-beaten face, that +Wolf did not dare to look at her.</p> + +<p>They were going to Atlantic City; neither had ever +been there, and if this warm weather lasted it would +be lovely, even in early spring. It was almost four +o'clock when the younger women went upstairs for +the freshening touches that Norma declared she +needed, and then Wolf and his mother were left alone.</p> + +<p>He knelt down beside the big rocker in which she +was ensconced with the baby, and she put one arm +about him, and kissed the big thick crest of his brown +hair.</p> + +<p>"You're glad, aren't you, Mother?"</p> + +<p>"Glad! I've prayed for it ever since she came to +me, years ago," Mrs. Sheridan answered. But after a +moment she added, gravely: "She's pure gold, our +Norma. They've sickened her, just as I knew they +would! But, Wolf, she may swing back for a little +while. She's like that; she always has been. She +was no more than a baby when she'd be as naughty +as she could be, and then so good that I was afraid +I was going to lose her. Go gently with her, Wolf; +be patient with her, dear. She's going to make a +magnificent woman, some day."</p> + +<p>"She's a magnificent woman, now," the man said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +simply. "She's too good for me, I know that. She's—you +can't think how cunning she is—how wonderful +she's been, all day!"</p> + +<p>"Go slowly," his mother said again. "She's only a +baby, Wolf; she's excited and romantic and generous +because she's such a baby! Don't make her sorry +that she's given herself to you so—so trusting——"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I'll take care of her!" Wolf asserted, a little gruffly.</p> + +<p>There was time for no more; they heard her step +on the stairs, and she came dancing back with Rose. +Her cheeks were burning with excitement; she gave +her aunt and cousin quick good-bye kisses, and caught +the baby's soft little cheek to her own velvety one. +She and Wolf would be back on Sunday night, they +promised; as they ran down the path the sun slipped +behind a leaden cloud, and all the world darkened +suddenly. A brisk whirl of springtime wind shook +the rose bushes in Rose's little garden, and there was a +cool rushing in the air that promised rain.</p> + +<p>But Norma was still carried along on the high tide +of supreme emotion, and to Wolf the day was radiant +with unearthly sunshine, and perfumed with all the +flowers of spring. The girl had flung herself so wholeheartedly +into her rôle that it was not enough to +bewilder and please Wolf, she must make him utterly +happy. Dear old Wolf—always ready to protect +her, always good and big and affectionate, and ready +to laugh at her silliest jokes, and ready to meet any +of her problems sympathetically and generously. Her +beauty, her irresistible charm as she hung on his arm +and chattered of what they would do when they started +housekeeping, almost dizzied him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +She liked everything: their wheeling deep upholstered +seats in the train; the seaside hotel, with the +sea rolling so near in the soft twilight; the dinner for +which they found themselves so hungry. Afterward +they climbed laughing into a big chair, and were pushed +along between the moving lines of other chairs, far +up the long boardwalk. And Norma, with her soft +loose glove in Wolf's big hand, leaned back against the +curved wicker seat, and looked at the little lighted +shops, and listened to the scrape of feet and chatter +of tongues and the solemn roll and crash of the waves, +and stared up childishly at the arch of stars that +looked so far and calm above this petty noise and glare. +She was very tired, every muscle in her body ached, +but she was content. Wolf was taking care of her +and there would be no more lonely vigils and agonies +of indecision and pain. She thought of Christopher +with a sort of childish quiet triumph; she had solved +the whole matter for them both, superbly.</p> + +<p>Wolf was a silent man with persons he did not know. +But he never was silent with Norma; he always had a +thousand things to discuss with her. The lights and +the stir on the boardwalk inspired him to all sorts +of good-natured criticism and speculation, and they +estimated just the expense and waste that went on +there day by day.</p> + +<p>"Really to have the ocean, Wolf, it would be so +much nicer to be even in the wildest place—just rocks +and coves. This is like having a lion in your front +parlour!"</p> + +<p>"Lord, Norma—when I got up this morning, if somebody +had told me that I would be married, and down at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>Atlantic City to-night——!"</p> + +<p>"I know; it's like a dream!"</p> + +<p>"But you're not sorry, Norma; you're sure that I'm +going to make you happy?" the man asked, in sudden +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"You always <i>have</i>, Wolf!" she answered, very simply.</p> + +<p>He never really doubted it; it was a part of Wolf's +healthy normal nature to believe what was good and +loving. He was not exacting, not envious; he had no +real understanding of her giddy old desires for wealth +and social power. Wolf at twenty-five was working so +hard and so interestedly, sleeping so deeply, eating his +meals with such appetite, and enjoying his rare idle time +so heartily, that he had neither time nor inclination for +vagaries. He had always been older than his years, +schooled to feel that just good meals and a sure roof +above him marked him as one of the fortunate ones of +the earth, and of late his work in the big factory had +been responsible enough, absorbing enough, and more +than gratifying enough to satisfy him with his prospects. +He was liked for himself, and he knew it, and he was +already known for that strange one-sightedness, that odd +little twist of mechanical vision, that sure knowledge of +himself and his medium, that is genius. The joy of +finding himself, and that the world needed him, had +been strong upon Wolf during the last few months, and +that Norma had come back to him seemed only a reason +for fresh dedication to his work, an augury that life was +going to be kind to him.</p> + +<p>She was gone when he wakened the next morning, +but he knew that the sea had an irresistible fascination +for her, and followed her quite as surely as if she had +left footprints on the clear and empty sands. He +found her with her back propped against a low wooden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +bulkhead, her slender ankles crossed before her, her blue +eyes fixed far out at sea.</p> + +<p>She turned, and looked up at him from under the brim +of her hat, and the man's heart turned almost sick with +the depth of sudden adoration that shook him; so young, +so friendly and simple and trusting was the ready smile, +so infinitely endearing the touch of the warm fingers +she slipped into his! He sat down beside her, and +they dug their heels into the sand, and talked in low +tones. The sun shone down on them kindly, and the +waves curved and broke, and came rushing and slithering +to their feet, and slid churning and foaming noisily +under the pier near by. Norma buried her husband's +big hand in sand, and sifted sand through her slender +fingers; sometimes she looked with her far-away look +far out across the gently rocking ocean, and sometimes +she brought her blue eyes gravely to his. And +the new seriousness in them, the grave and noble sweetness +that he read there, made Wolf suddenly feel himself +no longer a boy, no longer free, but bound for ever to this +exquisite and bewildering child who was a woman, or +woman who was a child, sacredly bound to give her the +best that there was in him of love and service and protection.</p> + +<p>She showed him a new Norma, here on the sunshiny +sands, one that he was to know better as the days went +by. She had always deferred to his wisdom and his +understanding, but she seemed to him mysteriously wise +this morning—no longer the old little sister Norma, +but a new, sage, keen-eyed woman, toward whom his +whole being was flooded with humility and awe and utter, +speechless adoration.</p> + +<p>At nine o'clock, when nurses and children began to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +come down to the shore, they got to their feet, and +wandered in to breakfast. And here, to his delight, she +was suddenly the old mad-cap Norma again, healthily +eager for ham and eggs and hot coffee, interested in +everything, and bewitchingly pretty in whatever position +she took.</p> + +<p>"I wish we had the old 'bus, Nono," Wolf said. He +usually spoke of his motor-car by this name. "They've +been overhauling her in that Newark place. She was +to be ready—by George, she was ready yesterday!"</p> + +<p>"We'll go over—I'll come over and meet you next +Saturday," his young wife promised, busy with rolls and +marmalade, "and you'll take me to lunch, and then +we'll get the car, and go and take Rose and the baby for +a ride!"</p> + +<p>"Norma," the man exclaimed, suddenly struck with a +sense of utter felicity, and leaning across the table to stop, +for the minute, her moving fingers with the pressure +of his own, "you haven't any idea how much I love you—I +didn't know myself what it was going to mean! To +have you come over to the factory, and to have somebody +say that Mrs. Sheridan is there, and to go to lunch—Dearest, +do you realize how wonderful and how—well, +how <i>wonderful</i> it's going to be? Norma, I can't +believe it. I can't believe that this is what love means +to everybody. I can't believe that every man who +marries his—his——"</p> + +<p>"Girl," she supplied, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Girl—but I didn't mean girl. I meant his ideal—the +loveliest person he ever knew," Wolf said, with a +new quickness of tongue that she knew was born of +happiness. "I can't believe that just going to Childs' +restaurants, or taking the car out on Sunday, or any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +other fool thing we do, means to any man what it's +going to mean to me! I just—well, I told you that. I +just can't believe it!"</p> + +<p>Two days later they came home for Sunday supper, +and there was much simple joy and laughter in the little +city apartment. Aunt Kate of course had fried chicken +and coffee ice-cream for her four big children. Harry +Junior, awakening, was brought dewy and blinking to +the table, where his Aunt Norma kissed the tears from +his warm, round little cheeks, and gave him crumbs of +sponge cake. Rose and Harry left at ten o'clock for +their country home, leaving the precious baby for his +grandmother and aunt to bring back the next day, but +the other three sat talking and planning until almost +midnight, and Kate could feast her eyes to her heart's +content upon the picture of Wolf in his father's old +leather chair, with Norma perched on the wide arm, one +of her own arms about her husband's neck and their +fingers locked together.</p> + +<p>It was settled that they were to find a little house in +East Orange, near Rose, and furnish it from top to +bottom, and go to housekeeping immediately. Meanwhile, +Norma must see the Melroses, and get her wedding +announcements engraved, and order some new calling +cards, and do a thousand things. She and Wolf must +spend their evenings writing notes—and presents would +be arriving——!</p> + +<p>She made infinitesimal lists, and put them into her +shopping bag, or stuck them in her mirror, but Wolf +laughed at them all. And instead of disposing of them, +they developed a demoralizing habit of wandering out +into Broadway, in their old fashion, after dinner, looking +into shop windows, drifting into little theatres, talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>ing +to beggars and taxi-cab men and policemen and +strangers generally, mingling with the bubbling young +life of the city that overflowed the sidewalks, and surged +in and out of candy and drug stores, and sat talking on +park benches deep into the soft young summer nights.</p> + +<p>Sometimes they went down to the shrill and crowded +streets of the lower east side, and philosophized youthfully +over what they saw there; and, as the nights +grew heavier and warmer, they often took the car, and +skimmed out into the heavenly green open spaces of the +park, or, on Saturday afternoon, packed their supper, +and carried it fifty miles away to the woods or the shore.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Before</span> she had been married ten days Norma +dutifully went to call upon old Mrs. Melrose, being +fortunate enough to find Leslie there. The old lady +came toward Norma with her soft old wavering footsteps, +and gave the girl a warm kiss even with her +initial rebuke:</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know whether I am speaking to this +bad runaway or not!" she quavered, releasing Norma +from her bejewelled and lace-draped embrace, and +shaking her fluffed and scanty gray hair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you are, Aunt Marianna," the girl said, +confidently, with her happy laugh. Leslie, coming +more slowly forward, laughed and kissed her, too.</p> + +<p>"But why didn't you tell us, Norma, and have a +regular wedding, like mine?" she protested. "I didn't +know that you and your cousin were even engaged!"</p> + +<p>"We've worked it out that we were engaged for exactly +three hours and ten minutes," Norma said, as +they all settled down in the magnificent, ugly, comfortable +old sitting-room for tea. She could see that both +Leslie and her grandmother were far from displeased. +As a matter of fact, the old lady was secretly delighted. +The girl was most suitably and happily and satisfactorily +married; justice had been done her, and she had solved +her own problem splendidly.</p> + +<p>"But you knew he liked you," Leslie ventured, diverted +and curious.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +"Oh, well——" Norma's lips puckered mischievously +and she looked down.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>were</i> engaged!" Leslie said, incredulously. +"He's handsome, isn't he, Norma?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the wife admitted, as if casually. "He really +is—at least I think so. And I think everyone else +thinks so. At least, when I compare him to the other +men—for instance——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Norma, I'll bet you're crazy about him," Leslie +said, derisively.</p> + +<p>Norma looked appealingly at the old lady, her eyes +dancing with fun.</p> + +<p>"Well, of <i>course</i> she loves her husband," Mrs. Melrose +protested, with a little cushiony pat of her hand +for the visitor.</p> + +<p>"I don't see that it's 'of course'," Leslie argued, airily, +with a little bitterness in her tone. Her grandmother +looked at her in quick reproof and anxiety. "The +latest," she said, drily, to Norma, "is that my delightful +husband is living at his club."</p> + +<p>"Now, Leslie, that is very naughty," the old lady said, +warmly. "You shouldn't talk so of Acton."</p> + +<p>"Well," Leslie countered, with elaborate innocence, +turning to Norma, "all I can say is that he walked +out one night, and didn't come back until the next! +Of course," she added, with a suppressed yawn that +poorly concealed her sudden inclination to tears, "of +course <i>I</i> don't care. Patsy and I are going up to +Glen Cove next week—and he can live at his club, for +all me!"</p> + +<p>"Money?" Norma asked. For Leslie's extravagance +was usually the cause of the young Liggetts' domestic +strife.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +Leslie, who had lighted a cigarette, made an affirmative +grimace.</p> + +<p>"Now, it's all been settled, and Grandma has straightened +it all out," old Mrs. Melrose said, soothingly. +"Acton was making out their income tax," she explained, +"and some money was mentioned—how was +that, dear?—Leslie had sold something—and he hadn't +known of it, that was all! Of course he was a little +cross, poor boy; he had worked it all out one way, and +he had no idea that this extra—sixteen thousand, was it?—had +come in at all, and been spent——"</p> + +<p>"Most of it for bills!" Leslie interpolated, bitterly. +Norma laughed.</p> + +<p>"Sixteen thou——! Oh, heavens, my husband's +salary is sixty dollars a week!" she confessed, gaily.</p> + +<p>"But you have your own money," the old lady +reminded her, kindly, "and a very nice thing for a +wife, too! I've talked to Judge Lee about it, dear, +and it's all arranged. You must let me do this, +Norma——"</p> + +<p>"I think you're awfully good to me, Aunt Marianna," +Norma said, thoughtfully. "I told Wolf about it, and +he thinks so, too. But honestly——"</p> + +<p>Even with her secret knowledge of her own parentage, +Norma was surprised at the fluttered anxiety of +the old lady, and Leslie was frankly puzzled.</p> + +<p>"No, Norma—no, Norma," Mrs. Melrose said, nervously +and imploringly. "I don't want you to discuss +that at all—it's <i>settled</i>. The check is to be deposited +every month, or quarter, or whatever it was——"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Norma, you'll need it, one way or +another," Leslie assured her. But in her own heart +Leslie wondered at her grandmother's generosity.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +"Everybody needs more money. I'll bet you the King +of England——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, kings!" Norma laughed. "They're the worst +of all. I don't know about this one, but they're always +appealing for special funds—all of them. And that's +one thing that makes Wolf so mad—the fact that all +they have to do, for ridiculous extravagances, is clap +on a tax."</p> + +<p>But Leslie and her grandmother were not interested +in the young engineer's economic theories. The old +lady followed Norma's spirited summary merely with an +uneasy: "You mustn't let your husband get any socialistic +ideas, Norma; there's too much of that now!" +and Leslie, after a close study of Norma's glowing face, +remarked suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Norma, I'll bet you a <i>dollar</i> you're rouged!"</p> + +<p>Before she left, the visitor managed a casual inquiry +about Aunt Alice.</p> + +<p>Aunt Alice was fine, Leslie answered carelessly, adding +immediately that no, Aunt Alice really wasn't extremely +well. Doctor Garrett didn't want her to go +away this summer, thought that move was an unnecessary +waste of energy, since Aunt Alice's house was +so cool, and she felt the heat so little. And Chris said +that Alice had always really wanted to stay in town, in +her own comfortable suite. She liked her second nurse +immensely, and Miss Slater was really running the house +now, the third nurse coming only at night.</p> + +<p>"But Aunt Alice never had a nurse at night," Norma +was going to say. But she caught the stricken and +apprehensive look on the old lady's face, and substituted +generously: "Well, I remember Aunt Alice told me +she had one of these wretched times several years ago."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +"Yes, indeed she did—frightened us almost to death," +Mrs. Melrose agreed, thankfully.</p> + +<p>"And how is—how is Chris?" Norma felt proud of the +natural tone in which she could ask the question.</p> + +<p>"Chris is fine," Leslie answered. She rarely varied +the phrase in this relation. "He's hunting in Canada. +He had a wire from some man there, and he went off +about a week ago. They're going after moose, I believe; +Chris didn't expect to get back for a month. +Aunt Alice was delighted, because she hates to keep him +in town all summer, but Acton told me that he thought +Chris was sick—that he and Judge Lee just made him +go."</p> + +<p>Well, her heart would flutter, she could not stop it or +ignore it. Norma found no answer ready, and though +she lifted her cup to her lips, to hide her confusion, she +could not taste it. The strangeness of Chris's sudden +departure was no mystery to her; he had been shocked +and stunned by her marriage, and he had run away +from the eyes that might have pierced his discomfiture.</p> + +<p>Still, her hands were trembling, and she felt oddly +shaken and confused. Leslie carried the conversation +away to safer fields, and shortly afterward Norma could +say her good-byes. Everybody, Leslie said, walking +with her to the corner, wanted to know what the bride +wanted for a wedding-present. Norma told Wolf, over +their candle-lighted supper table, an hour or two later, +that he and she would be bankrupted for life returning +them.</p> + +<p>Yet she loved the excitement of receiving the gifts; +naturally enough, loved Rose's ecstasies over the rugs +and silver and mahogany that made the little New +Jersey house a jewel among its kind. It was what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +Norma had unhesitatingly pronounced an "adorable" +house, a copy of the true colonial green-and-white, +quaint and prim enough to please even Leslie, when +Leslie duly came to call. It stood at the end of a tree-shaded +street, with the rising woods behind it, and +Norma recklessly invested in brick walks and a latticed +green fence, hydrangeas in wooden tubs and sunflowers +and hollyhocks, until her stretch of side garden looked +like a picture by Kate Greenaway.</p> + +<p>When it was all done, midsummer was upon them, +but she and Wolf thought that there had never been +anything so complete and so charming in all the world. +The striped awnings that threw clean shadows upon the +clipped grass; the tea table under the blue-green leaves +of an old apple tree; the glass doors that opened upon +orderly, white-wainscoted rooms full of shining dark +surfaces and flowered chintzes and gleaming glass bowls +of real flowers; the smallness and completeness and +prettiness of everything filled them both with utter satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Norma played at housekeeping like a little girl in a +doll's house. She had a rosy little Finnish maid who +enjoyed it all almost as much as she did, and their adventures +in hospitality were a constant amusement and +delight. On Saturdays, when Rose and Harry and +Aunt Kate usually arrived, Wolf could hardly believe +that all this ideal beauty and pleasure was his to share.</p> + +<p>The girls would pose and photograph the baby tirelessly, +laughing as he toppled and protested, and kissing +the fat legs that showed between his pink romper and +his pink socks. They would pack picnic lunches, rushing +to and fro breathlessly with thermos bottles and extra +wraps for Miggs, as Harry Junior was usually called.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +Once or twice they cleaned the car, with tremendous +splashing and spattering, assuming Wolf's old overalls +for the operation, and retreating with shrieks into the +kitchen whenever the sound of an approaching motor-car +penetrated into their quiet road. Mrs. Sheridan +characterized them variously as "Wild Indians", +"Ay-rabs", and "poor innocents" but her heart was so +filled with joy and gratitude for the turn of events that +had brought all these miracles about, that no nonsense +and no noise seemed to her really extravagant.</p> + +<p>It was an exceptionally pleasant community into +which the young Sheridans had chanced to move, and +they might have had much more neighbourly life than +they chose to take. There were about them beginners +of all sorts: writers and artists and newspaper men, +whose little cars, and little maids, and great ambitions +would have formed a strong bond of sympathy in time. +But Wolf and Norma saw them only occasionally, when +a Sunday supper at the country club or a Saturday-night +dance supplied them with a pleasant stimulating sense +of being liked and welcomed, or when general greetings +on the eight-o'clock train in the morning were mingled +with comments on the thunderstorm or the epidemic +of nursery chicken-pox.</p> + +<p>When Rose and Harry were gone, on Sunday evenings, +Wolf and Norma might sit on the side steps of the +side porch, looking off across the gradual drop descent +of tree-tops and shingled roofs, into a distant world +silvering under the summer moon. These were their +happiest times, when solitude and quiet spread about +them, after the hospitable excitements of the day, and +they could talk and dream and plan for the years ahead.</p> + +<p>She was an older Norma now, even though marriage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +had not touched her with any real responsibility, and +even though she was more full of delicious childish absurdities +than ever. The first months of their marriage +had curiously reversed their relationship, and it +was Norma now who gave, and Wolf who humbly and +gratefully accepted. It was Norma who poured comfort +and beauty and companionship into his life, who +smiled at him over his morning fruit, and who waited +for him under the old maple at the turn of the road, +every night. And as her wonderful and touching generosity +enveloped him, and her strange wisdom and new +sweetness impressed him more and more, Wolf marvelled +and adored her more utterly. He had always +loved her as a big brother, had even experienced a +definite heartache when she grew up and went away, a +lovely and unattainable girl in the place where their +old giddy dear little Norma had been.</p> + +<p>But now his passion for his young wife was becoming +a devouring fire in Wolf's heart; she absorbed him and +possessed him like a madness. A dozen times a day he +would take from his pocket-book the thin leather case +she had given him, holding on one side a photograph +of the three heads of Rose, his mother, and the baby, +and on the other an enchanting shadow of the loosened +soft hair and the serious profile that was Norma.</p> + +<p>And as he stood looking at it, with the machinery +roaring about him, and the sunlight beating in through +steel-barred windows sixty feet high, in all the confusion +of shavings and oil-soaked wood, polished sliding shafts +streaked with thick blue grease, stifling odours of creosote +and oily "wipes", Wolf's eyes would fill with tears +and he would shake his head at his own emotion, and +try to laugh it away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +After awhile he took another little picture of her, this +one taken under a taut parasol in bright sunlight, and +fitted it over the opposite faces; and then when he had +studied one picture he could turn to the other, and perhaps +go back to the first before his eyes were satisfied.</p> + +<p>And if during the day some thought brought her +suddenly to mind, he would stop short in whatever he +was doing, and remember her little timid upglancing +look as she hazarded, at breakfast, some question about +his work, or remember her enthusiasm, on a country +tramp, for the chance meal at some wayside restaurant, +and sheer love of her would overwhelm him, and he +would find his eyes brimming again.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">So the</span> summer fled, and before she fairly realized it +Norma saw the leaves colouring behind the little house +like a wall of fire, and rustled them with her feet when +she tramped with Wolf's big collie into the woods. The +air grew clearer and thinner, sunset came too soon, and +a delicate beading of dew loitered on the shady side of +the house until almost noon.</p> + +<p>One October day, when she had been six months a +wife, Norma made her first call upon Annie von Behrens. +Alice she had seen several times, when she had stopped +in, late in the summer mornings, to entertain the invalid +with her first adventures in housekeeping, and +chat with Miss Slater. But Chris she had quite deliberately +avoided. He had written her from Canada a +brief and charming note, which she had shown Wolf, +and he and Alice had had their share in the general +family gift of silver, the crates and bags and boxes of +spoons and bowls and teapots that had anticipated +every possible table need of the Sheridans for generations +to come. But that was all; she had not seen Chris, +and did not want to see him.</p> + +<p>"The whole thing is rather like a sickness, in my +mind," she told Wolf, "and I don't want to see him any +more than you would a doctor or a nurse that was associated +with illness. I don't know what we—what I +was thinking about!"</p> + +<p>"But you think he really—loved you—Nono?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +"Well—or he thought he did!"</p> + +<p>"And did you like him terribly?"</p> + +<p>"I think I thought I did, too. It was—of course it +was something we couldn't very well discuss——."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sorry for him." Wolf had dismissed him +easily. On her part, Norma was conscious of no particular +emotion when she thought of Chris. The suddenness +and violence with which she had broken that +association and made its resumption for ever impossible, +had carried her safely into a totally different life. Her +marriage, her new husband and new home, her new title +indeed, made her seem another woman, and if she +thought of Chris at all it was to imagine what he would +think of these changes, and to fancy what he would +say of them, when they met. No purely visionary +meeting can hold the element of passion, and so it was +a remote and spiritualized Chris of whom Norma came +to think, far removed from the actual man of flesh and +blood.</p> + +<p>Her call upon Annie she made with a mental reserve +of cheerful explanation and apology ready for Annie's +first reproach. Norma never could quite forget the extraordinary +relationship in which she stood to Annie; +and, perhaps half consciously, was influenced by the +belief that some day the brilliant and wonderful Mrs. +von Behrens would come to know of it, too.</p> + +<p>But Annie, who happened to be at home, and had +other callers, rapidly dashed Norma's vague and romantic +anticipations by showing her only the brisk and +aloof cordiality with which she held at bay nine tenths +of her acquaintance. Annie's old butler showed Norma +impassively to the little drawing-room that was tucked +in beyond the big one; two or three strangers eyed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +newcomer cautiously, and Annie merely accorded her a +perfunctory welcome. They were having tea.</p> + +<p>"Well, how do you do? How very nice of you, +Norma. Do you know Mrs. Theodore Thayer, and +Mrs. Thayer, and Miss Bishop? Katrina, this is—the +name is still Sheridan, isn't it, Norma?—this is Mrs. +Sheridan, who was with Mama and Leslie last summer. +You have lots of sugar and cream, Norma, of course—all +youngsters do. And you're near the toast——" +And Annie, dismissing her, leaned back in her chair, +and dropped her voice to the undertone that Norma had +evidently interrupted. "Do go on, Leila," she said, +to the older of the three women, "that's quite delicious! +I heard something of it, but I knew of course that there +was more——"</p> + +<p>A highly flavoured little scandal was in process of +construction. Norma knew the principals slightly; +the divorced woman, and the second husband from +whom she had borrowed money to loan the first. She +could join in the laughter that broke out presently, +while she tried to identify her companions. The +younger Mrs. Thayer had been the Miss Katrina Davenport +of last month's brilliant wedding. Pictures of her +had filled the illustrated weeklies, and all the world +knew that she and her husband were preparing to leave +for a wonderful home in Hawaii, where the family sugar +interests were based. They were to cross the continent, +Norma knew, in the Davenport private car, to be elaborately +entertained in San Francisco, and to be prominent, +naturally, in the island set. Little Miss Bishop had +just announced her engagement to Lord Donnyfare, a +splendid, big, clumsy, and impecunious young Briton +who had made himself very popular with the younger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +group this winter. They were to be married in January +and her ladyship would shortly afterward be transferred +to London society, presented at court, and placed as +mistress over the old family acres in Devonshire.</p> + +<p>They were both nice girls, pretty, beautifully groomed +and dressed, and far from unintelligent as they discussed +their plans; how their favourite horses and dogs +would be moved, and what instructions had been given +the maids who had preceded them to their respective +homes. Katrina Thayer was just twenty, Mary Bishop +a year younger; Norma knew that the former was perhaps +the richest girl in America, and the latter was also +an heiress, the society papers having already hinted +that among the wedding gifts shortly to be displayed +would be an uncle's casual check for one million dollars.</p> + +<p>"And of course it'll be charming for Chris, Mary," +Annie presently said, "if he's really sent to Saint +James's."</p> + +<p>Norma felt her throat thicken.</p> + +<p>"Chris—to England—as Ambassador?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's just a possibility—no, there's more +than that!" Annie told her. "I believe he'll take it, if +it is offered. Of course, he's supremely well fitted for it. +There's even"—Annie threw out to the company at +large, with that air of being specially informed in +which she delighted—"there's even very good reason to +suppose that influence has been brought to bear by——But +I don't dare go into that. However, we feel that it +will be offered. And the one serious drawback is naturally +my sister. Alice—poor child! And yet, of us all, +Alice is most desperately eager for Chris to take it."</p> + +<p>"I should think," Norma said, "that Aunt Alice could +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>almost be moved——?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she would be!" Annie agreed, with her quick, +superior definiteness. "That's the very question. +Whether the north Atlantic passage, say in May, when +it oughtn't to be so hard, would be too much for her. +Of course it would tire her and shake her cruelly, no +doubt of that. But Hendrick even talks of some sort of +balanced bed—on the hammock idea—and Miss Slater +would see that everything that was humanly possible +was done. I believe it could be managed. Then she +would be met by one of those big, comfortable English +ambulances, at Southampton, and taken right to her +apartment, or hotel, or whatever Chris arranges."</p> + +<p>"Not so much harder," Norma ventured, "than the +trip to Newport, after all."</p> + +<p>"Well, she didn't go to Newport last summer," +Annie said, "but she is certainly better now than she +was then, and I believe it could be done; I really do. +We're not talking a great deal about it, because nothing +is settled, but if it becomes definite, I shall certainly +advise it."</p> + +<p>Norma drank her tea, and listened, and threw in an +occasional word. When the other women rose to go, she +rose, too, perhaps half-hoping that Annie would hold her +for a more intimate word. But Annie quite suavely +and indifferently included her in her general farewells, +and Norma had cordial good-byes from the two young +women, and even a vague invitation from the older Mrs. +Thayer to come and see her, when Katrina was gone.</p> + +<p>Then she was walking down the Avenue, with her +head and heart in a confused whirl of bitterness and +disappointment. The three quarters of an hour in +Aunt Annie's big, dim, luxurious palace had been like a +dose of some insidious poison.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +The very atmosphere of richness and service and +idleness, the beauty of wide spaces and rich tones, the +massed blossoms and dimmed lights, struck sharply +upon senses attuned to Aunt Kate's quick voice, Rose's +little house with its poverty and utility, and Wolf's +frank enjoyment of his late and simple dinner. The +conversation, with its pleasant assumption of untold wealth +of power and travel and regal luxuriousness, burned its +memory across Norma's mind like a corroding acid. +They were not contemptible, they were not robbers or +brutes or hideous old plutocrats who had grown wealthy +upon the wrongs of the poor. No, they were normal +pleasant girls whose code it was to be generous to maids +and underlings, to speak well of their neighbours, to +pay their bills and keep their promises.</p> + +<p>"They make me <i>tired</i>!" she tried to tell herself, walking +briskly, and filling her lungs with the sweet fresh air. +It was twilight, and the north-bound tide of traffic was +halting and rushing, halting and rushing, up the Avenue; +now held motionless at a crossing, now flowing on in +mad haste, the lumbering omnibuses passing each other, +little hansoms threading the mass, and foot passengers +scampering and withdrawing, and risking all sorts of passages +between. The distance was luminous and blue, +and lights pricked against it as against a scarf of gauze.</p> + +<p>Oh, it was sickening—it was sickening—to think that +life was so grim and hard for the thousands, and so +unnecessarily, so superlatively beautiful for the few! +What had Mary Bishop and Katrina ever done, that +they should travel in private cars, fling aside furs that +had cost as much as many a man's yearly salary, chatter +of the plantation near the beach at Hawaii, or of reaching +Saint James's for the January Drawing-Room!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +Norma stopped to give twenty-five cents to an old +Italian organ grinder, and worked him into her theme +as she went on. Why <i>should</i> he look so grateful for +her casual charity, he, seventy years old, Katrina and +Mary averaging less than twenty!</p> + +<p>She reached Aunt Kate's flat in a thorough temper, +angry, headachy, almost feverish after the rich scones +and the rich tea, and the even less wholesome talk. The +apartment house seemed, as indeed it was, grimy and +odorous almost to squalor, and Aunt Kate almost hateful +in her cheerfulness and energy. This was Wednesday, +and on Wednesday evenings she was always happy, +for then Wolf and Norma came to dinner with her. +To-night, busily manipulating pans and pots, she told +Norma that she had rented the two extra bedrooms +of the apartment to three young trained nurses, ideal +tenants in every way.</p> + +<p>"They'll get their breakfasts here, and—if I'm away—there's +no reason why they shouldn't cook themselves +a little dinner now and then," said Aunt Kate, +in her rich, motherly voice. "They were tickled to +death to get the two rooms for twenty dollars, and +that makes my own rent only seventeen more. I asked +them if that was too much, and they said, no, they'd +expected to pay at least ten apiece."</p> + +<p>Norma listened, unsympathetic and gloomy. It was +all so petty and so poor—trained nurses, and apple pie, +and Aunt Kate renting rooms, and Wolf eager to be +promoted to factory manager.</p> + +<p>She wanted to go back—back to the life in which +Annie really noticed her, gave her luncheons, included +her. She wanted to count for something with Mary +and Katrina and Leslie; she wanted to talk to Chris<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +about his possible ambassadorship; she wanted them all +to agree that Norma's wit and charm more than made +up for Norma's lack of fortune. While she brushed +her hair, in the room that would shortly accommodate +two of the three little nurses, she indulged in an unsatisfying +dream in which she went to London with +Alice—and that autocratic little Lady Donnyfare.</p> + +<p>Lady Donnyfare! She would be "your ladyship!" +Nineteen years old, and welcomed to the ancestral mansion +as her little ladyship!</p> + +<p>Norma set the dinner table for three, with jerks and +slams that slightly relieved her boiling heart. She got +the napkins from the sideboard drawer, and reached for +the hand-painted china sugar bowl that was part of a +set that Aunt Kate had won at a fair. She set the blue +tile that she had given Aunt Kate on a long-ago Christmas +where the brown Rebecca teapot would stand, and +cut a square slice of butter from the end of the new pound +for the blue glass dish. And all the time her heart was +bursting with grief and discontent, and she was beginning +to realize for the first time the irrevocable quality +of the step she had taken, and just how completely it +had shut her off from the life for which she thirsted.</p> + +<p>Wolf came in, hungry, dirty, radiantly happy, with a +quick kiss for his mother and an embrace for his wife +into which her slender figure and cloudy brown head +almost disappeared. Lord, he was starving; and Lord, +he was dead; and Lord, it was good to get home, said +Wolf, his satisfaction with life too great to leave room +for any suspicion of his wife's entire sympathy.</p> + +<p>She told them, over the meal, of Mary and Katrina, +in whom their interest was of a simple and amazed +quality that Norma resented, and of Chris's prospect,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +which did awaken some comment from Mrs. Sheridan. +They were a clever family, she said.</p> + +<p>But now Wolf, bursting with long suppression, suddenly +took the floor with his own great news. Voorhies, +the fifty-year-old manager of the California plant, had +been drifting about the Newark factory for several +days, and Wolf had talked with him respectfully, as a +man of twenty-five, whose income is three thousand +a year, may talk to a six-thousand-dollar manager, +and to-day Voorhies, and Jim Palmer, the Newark +manager, and Paul Stromberg, the vice-president, had +taken Wolf to lunch with them, apparently casually, +apparently from mere friendliness. But Voorhies +had asked him if he had ever seen the West; and Stromberg +had said that he understood Sheridan's family +consisted merely of a young wife, and Palmer had +chanced to drop carelessly the fact that Mr. Voorhies +was not going back to California——!</p> + +<p>That was all. But it was enough to send Wolf +back to his work with his head spinning. California—and +a managership of a mine—and six thousand! +It must be—it must be—that he had been mentioned +for it, that they had him in mind! He wasn't going +even to think of it—and Norma mustn't—but Lord, it +meant being picked out of the ranks; it meant being +handed a commission on a silver platter!</p> + +<p>Norma tried not to be cold, tried to rise to the little +he asked of her, as audience. And she had the satisfaction +of knowing that he noticed nothing amiss in her +manner, and of seeing him go off to sleep, when they +had made the long trip home, with his head in a whirl +of glorious hopes. But Norma, for the first time since +her marriage, cried herself to sleep.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">The</span> bitterness stayed with her, and gradually robbed +her life of everything that was happy and content. +Her little household round, that had been so absorbing +and so important, became tedious and stupid. Rose, +who was expecting her second confinement, had her +husband's mother with her, and in care of the old baby, +and making preparations for the new, was busy, and +had small time for the old companionship; the evenings +were too cold for motoring now, even if Wolf had not +been completely buried in engineering journals and +papers of all sorts.</p> + +<p>Norma did not call on Annie again, but a fretted +and outraged sense of Annie's coolness and aloofness, +and a somewhat similar impression from Leslie's +manner, when they met in Fifth Avenue one day, was +always in her mind. They could drop her as easily +as they had picked her up, these high-and-mighty +Melroses! She consoled herself, for a few days, with +spectacular fancies of Annie's consternation should +Norma's real identity be suddenly revealed to her, but +even that poor solace was taken away from her at last.</p> + +<p>It was Aunt Kate's unconscious hand that struck +the blow, on a wild afternoon, All Hallow E'en, as it +happened, when the older woman made the long trip +to see Rose, and came on to Norma with a report that +everything was going well, and Miggs more fascinating +than ever.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +Mrs. Sheridan found Norma at the close of the short +afternoon, moping in her unlighted house. She had +been to the theatre with Wolf and a young couple +from the house next door, last night, and had fallen +asleep after an afternoon walk, and felt headachy, prickly +with heat and cold, and stupid. Yawning and chilly, +she kissed her aunt, and suggested that they move to +the kitchen. It was Inga's free night and Norma was +cook.</p> + +<p>"You'll stay and surprise Wolf, he'd love it," Norma +said, as the visitor's approving eyes noted the general +order and warmth, the blue-checked towels and blue +bowls, the white table and white walls. The little +harum-scarum baby of the family was proceeding to +get her husband a most satisfactory and delicious little +dinner, and Aunt Kate was proud of her.</p> + +<p>"Did you make that cake, darling?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I did; she can't make cake!"</p> + +<p>"And the ham?"</p> + +<p>"Well"—Norma eyed the cut ham fondly—"we +did that together, out of the book! And I wish you'd +taste it, Aunt Kate, it is perfectly delicious. I give +it to Wolf every other night, but I think he'd eat it +three times a day and be delighted. And last week +we made bread—awfully good, too—not hard like that +bread we made last summer. Rolls, we made—cinnamon +rolls and plain. Harry and Rose were here. +And Thanksgiving I'm going to try mincemeat."</p> + +<p>"You're a born cook," Aunt Kate said, paying one +of her highest compliments with due gravity. But +Norma did not respond with her usual buoyancy. +She sighed impatiently, and her face fell into lines of discontent +and sadness that did not escape the watching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +eyes. Mrs. Sheridan changed the subject to the one +of a cousin of Harry Redding, one Mrs. Barry with +whose problems Norma was already dismally familiar. +Mrs. Barry's husband was sick in a hospital, and she +herself had to have an expensive operation, and the +smallest of the four children had some trouble hideously +like infantile paralysis.</p> + +<p>Norma knew that Aunt Kate would have liked to +have her offer to take at least one of the small and +troublesome children for two or three days, if not to +stay with the unfortunate Kitty Barry outright. She +knew that there was almost no money, that all the +household details of washing and cooking were piling +up like a mountain about the ailing woman, but her +heart was filled with sudden rebellion and impatience +with the whole miserable scheme.</p> + +<p>"My goodness, Aunt Kate, if it isn't one thing with +those people it's another!" she said, impatiently. "I +suppose you were there, and up with that baby all +night!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I got some fine sleep," Mrs. Sheridan answered, +innocently. "Poor things, they're very brave!"</p> + +<p>Norma said nothing, but her expression was not +sympathetic. She had been thinking of herself as to +be pitied, and this ruthless introduction of the Barry +question entirely upset the argument. If Mary +Bishop and Katrina Thayer were the standard, then +Norma Sheridan's life was too utterly obscure and +insignificant to be worth living. But of course if incompetent +strugglers like the Barrys were to be brought +into the question, then Norma might begin to feel the +solid ground melting from beneath her feet.</p> + +<p>She did not offer the cake or the ham to Aunt Kate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +as contributions toward the small Barrys' lunch next +day, nor did she invite any one of them to visit her. +Her aunt, if she noted these omissions, made no comment +upon them.</p> + +<p>"I declare you are getting to be a real woman, +Norma," she said.</p> + +<p>"I suppose everyone grows up," Norma assented, +cheerlessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's a time when a child stops being a baby +and you see that it's beginning to be a little girl," Mrs. +Sheridan mused; "but it's some time later before you +know <i>what sort</i> of a little girl it is. And then at—say +fifteen or sixteen—you see the change again, the little +girl growing into a grown girl—a young lady. And +for awhile you sort of lose track of her again, until all +of a sudden you say: 'Well, Norma's going to be sociable—and +like people!' or: 'Rose is going to be a gentle, +shy girl——'"</p> + +<p>Norma knew the mildly moralizing tone, and that +she was getting a sermon.</p> + +<p>"You never knew that I was going to be a good housekeeper!" +she asserted, inclined toward contrariety.</p> + +<p>"I think you're going through another change now, +Baby," her aunt said. "You've become a woman too +fast. You don't quite know where you are!"</p> + +<p>This was so unexpectedly acute that Norma was +inwardly surprised, and a little impressed. She sat +down at one end of the clean little kitchen table, and +rested her face in her hands, and looked resentfully +at the older woman.</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>don't</i> think I'm a good housekeeper," she +said, looking hurt.</p> + +<p>"I think you will be whatever you want to be, Norma,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +it'll all be in your hands now," Mrs. Sheridan answered, +seriously. "You're a woman, now; you're Wolf's +wife; you've reached an age when you can choose and +decide for yourself. You can be—you always could +be—the best child the Lord ever made, or you can fret +and brood over what you haven't got."</p> + +<p>The shrewd kindly eye seemed looking into Norma's +very soul. The girl dropped her hard bright stare, +and looked sulky.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what <i>I'm</i> doing!" she muttered. "I +can't help wanting—what other people that are no +better than I, have!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but haven't you enough, Norma? Think +of women like poor Kitty Barry——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Kitty Barry—Kitty Barry!" Norma burst out, +angrily. "It isn't my fault that Kitty Barry has +trouble; <i>I</i> had nothing to do with it! Look at people +like Leslie—what she wastes on one new fur coat would +keep the Barrys for a year! Eighty-two hundred +dollars she paid for her birthday coat! And that's +<i>nothing</i>! Katrina Thayer——"</p> + +<p>"Norma—Norma—Norma!" her aunt interrupted, +reproachfully. "What have you to do with girls like +the Thayer girl? Why, there aren't twenty girls in +the country as rich as that. That doesn't affect <i>you</i>, +if there's something you can do for the poor and unfortunate——"</p> + +<p>"It <i>does</i> affect me! I can't"—Norma dropped her +tone, and glanced at her aunt. She knew that she was +misbehaving—"I can't help inheriting a love for +money," she said, breathing hard. "I know perfectly +well who I am—who my mother is," she ended, +with a half-defiant and half-fearful sob in her voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +"How do you mean that you know about your +mother, Norma?" Mrs. Sheridan demanded, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Well"—Norma had calmed a little, and she was +a trifle nervous—"Chris told me; and Aunt Alice +knows, too—that Aunt Annie is my mother," she said.</p> + +<p>"Chris Liggett told you that?" Mrs. Sheridan asked, +with a note of incredulity in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Aunt Alice guessed it almost as soon as I went +to live there! And I've known it for over a year," +Norma said.</p> + +<p>"And who told Chris?"</p> + +<p>"Well—Aunt Marianna, I suppose!"</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Norma," said Mrs. Sheridan, in a quiet, convincing +tone that cooled the girl's hot blood instantly, "Chris is +entirely wrong; your mother is dead. I've never lied +to you, and I give you my word! I don't know where +Miss Alice got that idea, but it's like her romantic way +of fancying things! No, dear," she went on, sympathetically, +as Norma sat silent, half-stunned by painful surprise, +"you have no claim on Miss Annie. Both your +father and mother are dead, Norma; I knew them both. +There was a reason," Mrs. Sheridan added, thoughtfully, +"why I felt that Mrs. Melrose might want to be kind to +you—want to undo an injustice she did years ago. +But I've told myself a thousand times that I did you a +cruel wrong when I first let you go among them—you +who were always so sensible, and so cheerful, and who +would always take things as they came, and make no +fuss!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Kate," Norma stammered, bitterly, her +lip trembling, and her voice fighting tears, "you don't +have to tell me that in your opinion I've changed for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +the worse—I see it in the way you look at me! You've +always thought Rose was an angel—too good to live!—and +that I was spoiled and lazy and good-for-nothing; +you were glad enough to get rid of me, and now I hope +you're satisfied! They've told me one thing, and you've +told me another—and I guess the truth is that I don't +belong to anybody; and I wish I was dead, where my +f-f-father and m-m-mother are——!"</p> + +<p>And stumbling into incoherence and tears, Norma +dropped her head on her arm, and sobbed bitterly. +Mrs. Sheridan's face was full of pain, but she did not +soften.</p> + +<p>"You belong to your husband, Norma!" she said, +mildly.</p> + +<p>Norma sat up, and wiped her eyes on a little handkerchief +that she took from the pocket of her housewifely +blue apron. She did not meet her aunt's eye, and +still looked angry and hurt.</p> + +<p>"Well—who <i>am</i> I then? Haven't I got some right to +know who my mother and father were?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"That you will never hear from me," Mrs. Sheridan +replied, firmly.</p> + +<p>"But, Aunt Kate——"</p> + +<p>"I gave my solemn promise, Norma, and I've kept +my word all these years; I'm not likely to break it now."</p> + +<p>"But—won't I <i>ever</i> know?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sheridan shrugged her broad shoulders and +frowned slightly.</p> + +<p>"That I can't say, my dear," she said, gently. "Some +day I may be released from my bond, and then I'll be +glad to tell you everything."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Wolf will tell me he's nothing to me, now!" +the girl continued, with childish temper.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +"Wolf—and all of us—think that there's nobody +like you," the older woman said, tenderly. But Norma +did not brighten. She went in a businesslike way to +the stove, and glanced at the various bowls and saucepans +in which dinner was baking and boiling, then +sliced some stale bread neatly, put the shaved crusts in +a special jar, and began to toast the slices with a charming +precision.</p> + +<p>"Change your mind and stay with us, Aunt Kate?" +she said, lifelessly.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, I'm going!" And Aunt Kate really did +bundle herself into coat and rubber overshoes and +woolly scarf again. "November's coming in with a +storm," she predicted, glancing out at the darkness, +where the wind was rushing and howling drearily.</p> + +<p>Norma did not answer. No mere rushing of clouds +and whirl of dry and colourless leaves could match the +storm of disappointment that was beginning to rage in +her own heart.</p> + +<p>Yet she felt a pang of repentance, when cheerful Aunt +Kate had tramped off in the dark, to Rose's house, +which was five blocks away, and perhaps afterward to +the desolate Barrys', and wished that she had put her +arms about the big square shoulders, and her cheek +against her aunt's cheek, and said that she was sorry to +be unreasonable.</p> + +<p>Rushing to another extreme of unreason, she decided +that she and Wolf must go see Rose to-night—and perhaps +the Barrys, too—and cheer and solace them all. +And Norma indulged in a little dream of herself nursing +and cooking in the Barrys' six little cluttered rooms, and +earning golden opinions from all the group. There was +money, too; she had not used all of October's allowance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +and to-morrow would find another big check at the +bank.</p> + +<p>Wolf interrupted by coming in so tired he could +hardly move. He ate his dinner, yawned amiably in the +kitchen while she cleared it away, and was so sound +asleep at nine o'clock that Norma's bedside light and +the rustling of the pages of her book, three feet away +from his face, had no more effect upon him than if the +three feet had been three hundred.</p> + +<p>And then the bitter mood came back to her again; +the bored, restless, impatient feeling that her life was a +stupid affair. And deep in her heart the sense of hurt +and humiliation grew and spread; the thought that she +was not of the charmed circle of the Melroses, not +secretly and romantically akin to them, she was merely +the casual object of the old lady's fantastic sense of +obligation. Aunt Kate, who had never said what was +untrue—who, Norma and her children firmly believed, could +not say what was untrue—had taken away, once and for +all, the veil of mystery and romance that had wrapped +Norma for three exciting years.</p> + +<p>For Leslie, and Katrina, and Mary Bishop, perhaps, +travel and the thrill of foreign shores or European courts. +But for Wolf Sheridan's wife, this small, orderly, charming +house on the edge of the New Jersey woods, and the +laundry to think of every Monday, and the two-days' +ordering to remember every Saturday, as long as the +world went round!</p> + +<p>For a few days Norma really suffered in spirit, then +the natural healthy current of her life reëstablished +itself, and she philosophically determined to make the +best of the matter. If she was not Aunt Annie's daughter +and Leslie's cousin, she was at least their friend.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +They—even unsuspecting of any strange relationship—had +always been kind to her. And Aunt Marianna and +Aunt Alice had been definitely affectionate, to say nothing +of Chris!</p> + +<p>So one day, when she happened to be shopping in the +winter briskness of the packed and brilliant Avenue, she +telephoned Leslie at about the luncheon hour. Leslie +when last they met had said that she would confidently +expect Norma to run out and lunch with her some day—any +day.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" Leslie's voice asked, irritably, when at +last the telephone connection was established. "Oh, +<i>Norma</i>! Oh——? What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Just wondering how you all were, and what the +family news is," Norma said, with an uncomfortable +inclination to falter.</p> + +<p>"I don't <i>hear</i> you!" Leslie protested, impatiently. +The insignificant inquiry did not seem to gain much by +repetition, and Norma's cheeks burned in shame when +Leslie followed it by a blank little pause. "Oh—everyone's +fine. The baby wasn't well, but she's all right +now."</p> + +<p>Another slight pause, then Norma said:</p> + +<p>"She must be adorable—I'd like to see her."</p> + +<p>"She's not here now," Leslie answered, quickly.</p> + +<p>"I've been shopping," Norma said. "Any chance +that you could come down town and lunch with me?"</p> + +<p>"No, I really couldn't, to-day!" Leslie answered, +lightly and promptly.</p> + +<p>A moment later Norma said good-bye. She walked +away from the telephone booth with her face burning, +and her heart beating quickly with anger and resentment.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +"Snob—snob—snob!" she said to herself, furiously, +of Leslie. And of herself she presently added honestly, +"And I wasn't much better, for I don't really like her any +more than she does me!" And she stopped for flowers, +and a little box of pastry, and went out to delight her +Aunt Kate's heart with an unexpected visit.</p> + +<p>But a sting remained, and Norma brooded over the +injustice of life, as she went about her little house in the +wintry sunlight, and listened to Wolf, and made much +of Rose and the new baby girl. By Thanksgiving it +seemed to her that she had only dreamed of "Aïda" +and of Newport, and that the Norma of the wonderful +frocks and the wonderful dreams had been only a dream +herself.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">And</span> then suddenly she was delighted to have a +friendly little note from Alice, asking her to come to +luncheon on a certain December Friday, as there was +"a tiny bit of business" that she would like to discuss; +Chris was away, she would be alone. Norma accepted +with no more than ordinary politeness, and showed +neither Wolf nor his mother any elation, but she felt a +deep satisfaction in the renewed relationship.</p> + +<p>On the appointed Friday, at one o'clock, she mounted +the familiar steps of the Christopher Liggetts' house, +and greeted the butler with a delighted sense of returning +to her own. Alice was in the front room, before a +wood fire; she greeted Norma with her old smile, and +with an outstretched hand, but Norma was shocked to +see how drawn and strangely aged the smile was, and +how thin the hand!</p> + +<p>The room had its old scent of violets, and its old +ordered beauty and richness, but Norma was vaguely +conscious, for the first time, of some new invalid quality +of fussiness, of a pretty and superfluous cluttering that +had not been characteristic of Alice's belongings a year +ago. Alice, too, wore newly a certain stamp of frailty, +her always pure high forehead had a faint transparency +and shine that Norma did not remember, and the increasing +accumulation of pillows and little bookcases +and handsome stands about her suggested that her +horizon was closing in, that her world was diminishing +to this room, and this room alone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +The strange nurse who smilingly and noiselessly +slipped away as Norma came in, was another vaguely +disquieting hint of helplessness, but Norma knew better +than to make any comment upon her impressions, and +merely asked the usual casual questions, as she sat down +near the couch.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Aunt Alice? But you look splendidly!"</p> + +<p>"I'm so <i>well</i>," said Alice, emphatically, with a sort +of solemn thankfulness, "that I don't know myself! +Whether it was saving myself the strain of moving to +Newport last summer, or what, I don't know. But I +haven't been so well for <i>years</i>!"</p> + +<p>Norma's heart contracted with sudden pity. Alice +had never employed these gallant falsehoods before. +She had always been quite obviously happy and busy +and even enviable, in her limited sphere. The girl +chatted away with her naturally enough while the +luncheon table was arranged between them and the fire, +but she noticed that two nurses shifted the invalid into +an upright position before the meal, and that Alice's face +was white with exhaustion as she began to sip her +bouillon.</p> + +<p>They were alone, an hour later, playing with little +boxed ices, when Alice suddenly revealed the object of +the meeting. Norma had asked for Chris, who was, +it appeared, absent on some matter of business for a few +days, and it was in connection with the introduction of +his name that Alice spoke.</p> + +<p>"Chris—that reminds me! I wanted to speak to you +about something, Norma; I've wanted to for months, +really. It's not really important, because of course you +never would mention it any more than I would, and yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +it's just as well to have this sort of thing straightened +out! Chris told me"—said Alice, looking straight at +Norma, who had grown a trifle pale, and was watching +her fixedly—"Chris told me that some months before +you were married, he told you of some—some ridiculous +suspicions we had—it seems absurd now!—about +Annie."</p> + +<p>So that was it! Norma could breathe again.</p> + +<p>"Yes—we talked about it one morning walking home +from church," she admitted.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether you know now," Alice said, +quickly, flushing nervously, "that there wasn't one +shred of foundation for that—that crazy suspicion of +mine! But I give you my word—and my mother told +me!—that it wasn't so. I don't know how I ever came +to think of it, or why I thought Mama admitted it. +But I've realized," said Alice, nervously, "that it was a +terrible injustice to Annie, and as soon as Chris told me +that you knew it—and of course he had <i>no business</i> to +let it get any further!—I wanted to set it straight. +Poor Annie; she would be perfectly frantic if she knew +how calmly I was saddling her with a—a terrible past!" +said Alice, laughing. "But I have always been too +sensitive where the people I love are concerned, and I +blundered into this—this outrageous——"</p> + +<p>"My aunt had told me that it was not so," Norma +said, coolly and superbly interrupting the somewhat +incoherent story. "If I ever really believed it——!" +she added, scornfully.</p> + +<p>For her heart was hot with rage, and the first impulse +was to vent it upon this nearest of the supercilious Melroses. +This was all Alice had wanted then, in sending +that little overture of friendship: to tell the little nobody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +that she was nothing to the great family, after all, to +prevent her from ever boasting even an illicit relationship! +It was for a formal snub, a definite casting-off, +that Norma had been brought all the way from the +little green-and-white house in New Jersey! Her eyes +grew very bright, and her lips very firm, as she and Alice +finished the topic, and she told herself that she would +never, never enter the house of Liggett again!</p> + +<p>Alice, this load off her mind, and the family honour +secure, became much more friendly, and she and Norma +were talking animatedly when Leslie and Annie came +unexpectedly in. They had been to a débutante luncheon, +and were going to a débutante tea, and meanwhile +wanted a few minutes with dear Alice, and the latest +news of Mrs. Melrose, who was in Florida.</p> + +<p>Aunt and niece were magnificently furred and jewelled, +magnificently unaware of the existence of little Mrs. +Sheridan of East Orange. Norma knew in a second that +the social ripples had closed over her head; she was of no +further possible significance in the life of either. Leslie +was pretty, bored, ill-tempered; Annie her usual stunning +and radiantly satisfied self. The conversation +speedily left Norma stranded, the chatter of engagements, +of scandals, of new names, was all strange to her, +and she sat through some ten minutes of it uncomfortably, +longing to go, and not quite knowing how to start. +She said to herself that she was done with the Melroses; +never—never—never again would even their most fervently +extended favour win from her so much as a civil +acknowledgment!</p> + +<p>There was a step in the hall, and a voice that drove +the blood from Norma's face, and made her heart begin +the old frantic fluttering and thumping. Before she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +could attempt to collect her thoughts, the door opened, +and Chris came in. He came straight to Alice, and +kissed her, holding her hand as he greeted Annie and +Leslie. Then he came across the hearthrug, and Norma +got to her feet, and felt that his hand was as cold as +hers, and that the room was rocking about her.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Norma!" he said, quietly. "I didn't expect +to find you here!"</p> + +<p>"You haven't seen her since she was married, Chris," +Alice said, and Chris agreed with a pleasant "That's +so!"</p> + +<p>He sat down, and Norma, incapable of any effort, at +least until she could control the emotion that was shaking +her like a vertigo, sank back into her own chair, unseeing +and unhearing. The gold clock on the mantel +ticked and tocked, the other three women chatted and +laughed, and Chris contributed his share to the general +conversation. But Norma's one desperate need was for +escape.</p> + +<p>He made no protest when she said hasty farewells, +but when she had gone rapidly and almost blindly down +the stairway, and was at the front door, she found him +beside her. He got into his fur-collared coat, picked up +his hat, and they descended to the sidewalk together, in +the colourless, airless, sunless light of the winter afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Get in my car!" Chris said, indicating the roadster +at the curb.</p> + +<p>The girl without a word obeyed. His voice, the +motion of his clean-cut mouth, the searching glance of +his quick, keen eyes, acted upon her like a charm. +Alice—Wolf—every thing else in the world vanished from +her thoughts, or rather had never been there. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +drinking again the forbidden waters for which she +had thirsted, perhaps without quite knowing it, so long. +The strangeness, the strain, the artifice of the last eight +months fell from her like a spell; she was herself again, +comfortable again, poised again, thrilling from head to +heels with delicious and bubbling life—ready for anything!</p> + +<p>Now that they were alone she felt no more nervousness; +he would speak to her when he was ready, he could +not leave her without speaking. Norma settled back +comfortably in the deep, low seat, and glanced sidewise +at the stern profile that showed between his high fur +collar and the fur cap he had pulled well down over his +ears. The world seemed changed to her; she had wakened +from a long dream.</p> + +<p>"No—not the old house!" she presently broke the +silence to tell him. "I go to New Jersey."</p> + +<p>He had been driving slowly out Fifth Avenue, now he +obediently turned, and threaded his way through the +cross-street traffic until they were within perhaps a +hundred feet of the entrance to the New Jersey subways. +Then he ran the car close to the curb, and +stopped, and for the first time looked fully at Norma, +and she saw his old, pleasant smile.</p> + +<p>"Well, and how goes it?" he asked. "How is Wolf? +Tell me where you are living, and all about it!"</p> + +<p>Norma in answer gave him a report upon her own +affairs, and spoke of Aunt Kate and Rose and Rose's +children. She did not realize that a tone almost pleading, +almost apologetic, crept into her eager voice while +she spoke, and told its own story. Chris watched her +closely, his eyes never leaving her face. All around +them moved the confusion and congestion of Sixth Ave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span>nue; +overhead the elevated road roared and crashed, +but neither man nor woman was more than vaguely +conscious of surroundings.</p> + +<p>"And are you happy, Norma?" Chris asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" she answered, quickly.</p> + +<p>"You are a very game little liar," he said, dispassionately. +"No—no, I'm not blaming you!" he +added, hastily, as she would have spoken. "You took +the very best way out, and I respect and honour you for +it! I was not surprised—although the possibility had +never occurred to me."</p> + +<p>Something in his cool, almost lifeless tone, chilled her, +and she did not speak.</p> + +<p>"When I heard of it," Chris said, "I went to Canada. +I don't remember the details exactly, but I remember one +day sitting up there—in the woods somewhere, and looking +at my hunting knife, and looking at my wrist——"</p> + +<p>He looked at his wrist now, and her eyes followed his.</p> + +<p>"—and if I had thought," Chris presently continued, +"that a slash there might have carried me to +some region of peace—where there was no hunger for +Norma—I would not have hesitated! But one isn't sure—more's +the pity!" he finished, smiling with eyes full of +pain.</p> + +<p>Norma could not speak. The work of long months +had been undone in a short hour, and she was conscious +of a world that crashed and tumbled in utter ruin about +her.</p> + +<p>"Well, no use now," Chris said. He folded his arms +on his chest, and looked sternly away into space for a +minute, and Norma felt his self-control, his repression, +as she would have felt no passionate outburst of reproach. +"But there is one thing that I've wanted for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +a long time to tell you, Norma. If you hadn't been such +a little girl, if you had known what life is, you could not +have done what you did!"</p> + +<p>"I suppose not," she half-whispered, with a dry +throat, as he waited for some sign from her.</p> + +<p>"No, you couldn't have given yourself to any one else—if +you had known," Chris went on, as if musing aloud. +"And that brings me to what I want to say. Marriage +lasts a long, long time, Norma, and even you—with all +your courage!—may find that you've promised more +than you can perform! The time may come——</p> + +<p>"Norma, I hope it won't!" he interrupted himself to +say, bitterly. "I try to hope it won't! I try to hope +that you will come to love him, my dear, and forget +me! But if that time does come, what I want you +to remember is this afternoon, and sitting here with me +in the car, and Chris telling you that whenever—or +wherever—or however he can serve you, you are to remember +that he is living just for that hour! There will +never be any change in me, Norma, never anything but +longing and longing just for the sight of you, just for +one word from you! I love you, my dear—I can't help +it. God knows I've <i>tried</i> to help it. I love you as I +don't believe any other woman in the world was ever +loved! So much that I want life to be good to you, +even if I never see you, and I want you to be happy, +even without me!"</p> + +<p>He had squared about to face her, and as the passionate +rush of words swept about her, Norma laid her +little gloved hand gently upon his big one, and her blue +eyes, drowned in sudden tears, fixed themselves in exquisite +desolation and despair upon his face.</p> + +<p>Once or twice she had whispered "I know—I know!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +as if to herself, but she did not interrupt him, and when +he paused he saw that she was choked with tears, and +could not speak.</p> + +<p>"The mad and wonderful sacrifice you made I can't +talk about, Norma," he said. "Only an ignorant, +noble-hearted little girl like you could have done that! +But that's all over, now. You must try to make your +life what they think it is—those good people that love +you! And I'll try, too!—I do try. And you mustn't +cry, my little sweetheart," Chris added, with a tenderness +so new, and so poignantly sweet, that Norma was +almost faint with the sheer joy of it, "you mustn't blame +me for just saying this, this once, because it's for the last +time! We mustn't meet——" His voice dropped. +"I think we mustn't meet," he repeated, painfully and +slowly.</p> + +<p>"No!" she agreed, quickly.</p> + +<p>"But you are to remember that," Chris reiterated, +"that I am living, and moving about, and going to the +office, and back to my home, only because you are +alive in the world, and the day may come when I can +serve you! Life has been only that to me, for a long, +long time!"</p> + +<p>For a long minute Norma sat silent, her dark lashes +fallen on her cheek, her eyes on the hand that she had +grasped in her own.</p> + +<p>"I'll remember, Chris! Thank you, Chris!" she said, +simply. Then she raised her eyes and looked straight +at him, with a childish little frown, puzzled and bewildered, +on her forehead, and they exchanged a long look +of good-bye. Chris raised her hand to his lips, and +Norma very quietly slipped from her seat, and turned +once to smile bravely at him before she was lost in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +swiftly moving whirlpool of the subway entrance. She +was trembling as she seated herself in the train, and +moved upon her way scarcely conscious of what she was +doing.</p> + +<p>But Chris did not move from his seat for more than +an hour.</p> + +<p>Norma went home, and quickly and deftly began her +preparations for dinner. Inga had been married a few +weeks before, and so Norma had no maid. She put +her new hat into its tissue paper, and tied a fresh checked +apron over her filmy best waist, and stepped to and +fro between stove and dining table, as efficient a little +housekeeper as all New Jersey could show.</p> + +<p>Wolf came home hungry and good-natured, and +kissed her, and sat at the end of her little kitchen table +while she put the last touches to the meal, appreciative +and amusing, a new magazine for her in the pocket of his +overcoat, an invitation from his mother for dinner to-morrow +night, and a pleasant suggestion that he and she +wander up Broadway again and look in windows, after +his mother's dinner.</p> + +<p>They talked, while they dined, of the possibility of the +California move, and Wolf afterward went down to the +furnace. When the fire was banked for the night, he +watched the last of the dinner clearance, and they went +across the cold dark strip of land between their house +and a neighbour's, to play three exciting rubbers of +bridge.</p> + +<p>And at eleven Wolf was asleep, and Norma reading +again, or trying to read. But her blood was racing, and +her head was spinning, and before she slept she brought +out all her memories of the afternoon. Chris's words +rang in her heart again, and the glances that had accom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>panied +them unrolled before her eyes like some long +pageant that was infinitely wonderful and thrilling. +Leslie and Annie and Alice might snub her, but Chris—their +idol, the cleverest and most charming man in all +their circle!—Chris loved her. Chris loved her. And—from +those old dreamy days in Biretta's Bookstore, +had she not loved Chris?</p> + +<p>Another morning came, another night, and life went +its usual way. But Norma was wrapped in a dream +that was truly a pillar of cloud by day, and of flame by +night. She was hardly aware of the people about her, +except that her inner consciousness of happiness and of +elation gave her an even added sweetness and charm, +made her readier to please them, and more anxious for +their love.</p> + +<p>Wolf almost immediately saw the change, but she did +not see the shadow that came to be habitual in his young +face, nor read aright his grave eyes. She supposed him +perhaps unusually busy, if indeed she thought of him at +all. Like her aunt, and Rose, and the rest of her world, +he was no more now than a kindly and dependable +shadow, something to be quickly put aside for the reality +of her absorbing friendship for Chris.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Despite</span> their resolve not to see each other in the two +weeks that followed Alice's luncheon, Norma had seen +Chris three times. He had written her on the third day, +and she had met the postman at the corner, sure that +the big square envelope would be there. They had +had luncheon, far down town, and walked up through +the snowy streets together, parting with an engagement +for the fourth day ahead, a matinée and tea engagement. +The third meeting had been for luncheon again, and +after lunch they had wandered through an Avenue +gallery, looking at the pictures, and talking about +themselves.</p> + +<p>Chris had loaned her books, little slim books of +dramas or essays, and Chris had talked to her of plays +and music. One night, when Wolf was in Philadelphia, +Chris took her to the opera again, duly returning her +to Aunt Kate at half-past eleven, and politely disclaiming +Aunt Kate's gratitude for his goodness to little +Norma.</p> + +<p>He never attempted to touch her, to kiss her; he never +permitted himself an affectionate term, or a hint of the +passion that enveloped him; they were friends, that +was all, and surely, surely, they told themselves, a +self-respecting man and woman may be friends—may talk +and walk and lunch together, and harm no one? Norma +knew that it was the one vital element in Chris's life, +as in her own, and that the hours that he did not spend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +with her were filled with plans and anticipations for +their times together.</p> + +<p>One evening, just before Christmas, when the young +Sheridans were staying through a heavy storm with +their mother, Wolf came home with the news that he +must spend some weeks in Philadelphia, studying +a new method of refining iron ore. It was tacitly +understood that this transfer was but a preliminary +to the long-anticipated promotion to the California +managership, but Wolf took it very quietly, with +none of the exultation that the compliment once would +have caused him.</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you to Philadelphia," Norma said, +not quite naturally. She had been made vaguely +uneasy by his repressed manner, and by the fact that +her kiss of greeting had been almost put aside by him, +at the door, a few minutes earlier. Dear old Wolf; +she had always loved him—she would not have him +unhappy for all the world!</p> + +<p>In answer he looked at her unsmilingly, wearily +narrowing his eyes as if to concentrate his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"You can't, very well, but thank you just the same, +Norma," he said, formally. "I shall be with Voorhies +and Palmer and Bender all the time; they put me up +at a club, and there'll be plenty of evening work—nearly +every evening——"</p> + +<p>"Norma'll stay here with me!" Aunt Kate said, +hospitably.</p> + +<p>"Well"—Wolf agreed, indifferently—"I can run +up from Philadelphia and be home every Saturday, +Mother," he added. Norma felt vaguely alarmed by +his manner, and devoted her best efforts to amusing +and interesting him for the rest of the meal. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +dinner she came in from the kitchen to find him in a +big chair in the little front parlour, and she seated herself +upon an arm of it, and put her own arm loosely +about his neck.</p> + +<p>"What are you reading, Wolf? Shall we go out +and burn up Broadway? There's a wonderful picture +at The Favourite."</p> + +<p>He tossed his paper aside, and moved from under +her, so that Norma found herself ensconced in the +chair, and her husband facing her from the rug that +was before the little gas log.</p> + +<p>"Where's Mother?"</p> + +<p>"Gone downstairs to see how the Noon baby is."</p> + +<p>"Norma," said Wolf, without preamble, "did you +see Chris Liggett to-day?"</p> + +<p>Her colour flamed high, but her eyes did not waver.</p> + +<p>"Yes. We met at Sherry's. We had lunch together."</p> + +<p>"You didn't meet by accident?" There was desperate +hope in Wolf's voice. But Norma would not lie. +With her simple negative her head drooped, and she +looked at her locked fingers in silence.</p> + +<p>Wolf was silent, too, for a long minute. Then he +cleared his throat, and spoke quietly and sensibly.</p> + +<p>"I've been a long time waking up, Nono," he said. +"I'm sorry! Of course I knew that there was a difference; +I knew that you—felt differently. And I +guessed that it was Chris. Norma, do you—do you +still like him?"</p> + +<p>She looked up wretchedly, nodding her head.</p> + +<p>"More"—he began, and stopped—"more than you +do me?" he asked. And in the silence he added suddenly: +"Norma, I thought we were so happy!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +Then the tears came.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, I'll never love any one more than I do you!" +the girl said, passionately. "You've always been an +angel to me—always the best friend I ever had. I +know you—I know what you are to Rose, Aunt Kate, +and what the men at the factory think of you. I'm not +fit to tie your shoes! I'm wicked, and selfish, and—and +everything I oughtn't to be! But I can't help it. +I've wanted you to know—all there was to know. I've +met him, and we've talked and walked together; that's +all. And that's all we want—just to be friends. I'm +sorry——" Her voice trailed off on a sob. "I'm +awfully sorry!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Wolf said, slowly, after a pause, "I'm sorry, +too!"</p> + +<p>He sat down, rumpling his hair, frowning. Norma, +watching him fearfully, noticed that he was very +pale.</p> + +<p>"I thought we were so happy," he said again, simply.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Wolf, don't think I've been fooling all this +summer!" his wife pleaded, her eyes filling afresh. +"I've loved it all—the peach ice-cream, and the picnics, +and everything. But—but people can't help this +sort of thing, can they? It does happen, and—and +they just simply have to make the best of it, don't +they? If—if we go to California next month—you +know that I'll do everything I can——!"</p> + +<p>He was not listening to her.</p> + +<p>"Norma," he interrupted, sharply, "if Liggett's wife +was out of the way—would you want to marry him?"</p> + +<p>"Wolf!—what's the use of asking that? You only—you +only excite us both. Aunt Alice <i>isn't</i> out of the way, +and even if she were, I am your wife. I'm sorry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +I'll never meet him again—I haven't been a bit happy +about it. I'll promise you that I will not see him again."</p> + +<p>"I don't ask you for that promise," Wolf said. "I +don't know what we can do! I never should have let +you—I shouldn't have been such a fool as to—but +somehow, I'd always dreamed that you and I would +marry. Well!"—he interrupted his musing with resolute +cheerfulness—"I've got to get over to the library +to-night," he said, "for I may have to start for Phily +to-morrow afternoon. Will you tell Mother——"</p> + +<p>Norma immediately protested that she was going +with him, but he patiently declined, kissing her in a +matter-of-fact sort of way as he pulled on the old overcoat +and the new gloves, and slamming the hall door +behind him when he went.</p> + +<p>For a minute she stood looking after him, with a great +heartache almost blinding her. Then she flashed to +her room, and before Wolf had reached the corner his +wife had slipped her hand into his arm, and her little +double step was keeping pace with his long stride in +the way they both loved.</p> + +<p>She talked to him in her usual manner, and presently +he could answer normally, and they bought peppermints +to soften their literary labours. In the big +library Wolf was instantly absorbed, but for awhile +Norma sat watching the shabby, interested, intelligent +men and women who came and went, the shabby books +that crossed the counters, the pretty, efficient desk-clerks +under their green droplights. The radiators +clanked and hissed softly in the intervals of silence, +sometimes there was whispering at the shelves, or one +of the attendants spoke in a low tone.</p> + +<p>Norma loved the atmosphere, so typical a phase of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +the great city's life. After awhile she idly dragged +toward her three books, from a table, and idly dipped +into them: "The Life of the Grimkés"; "The Life of +Elizabeth Prentiss"; "The Letters of Charles Dickens."</p> + +<p>Nine struck; ten; eleven. Wolf had some six or +seven large books about him, and alternated his plunges +into them with animated whispered conversations +with a silver-headed old man, two hours ago an utter +stranger, but always henceforth to be affectionately +quoted by Wolf as a friend.</p> + +<p>They indulged in the extravagance of a taxi-cab for +the home trip. Norma left Wolf still reading, after +winning from him a kiss and a promise not to "worry", +and went to bed and to sleep. When she wakened, +after some nine delicious hours, he was gone; gone to +Philadelphia, as it proved.</p> + +<p>Breakfasting at ten o'clock, in a flood of sweet winter +sunshine, she put a brave face on the matter. She +told herself that it was better that Wolf should know, +and only the part of true kindness not to deny what, +for good or ill, was true. The memory of his grave +and troubled face distressed her, but she reminded herself +that he would be back on Saturday, and then he +would have forgiven her. She would see Chris to-day, +to-morrow, and the day after, and by that time they +would have said everything that there was to say, and +they would never see each other again.</p> + +<p>For it was a favourite hallucination of theirs that every +meeting was to be the last. Not, said Chris, that there +was any harm in it, but it was wiser not to see each +other. And when Norma, glowing under his eyes, +would echo this feeling, he praised her for her courage +as if they had resisted the temptation already.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +"I've thought it all over, Chris," she would say, +"and I know that the wisest way is to stop. And +you must help me." And when Chris answered, +"Norma, I don't see where you get that marvellous +courage of yours," it did not occur to Norma to question +in what way she was showing courage at all. She +lived upon his praise, and could not have enough of it. +He never tired of telling her that she was beautiful, +good, brave, a constant inspiration, and far above +the ordinary type of woman; and Norma believed him.</p> + +<p>On the day before Wolf's first week-end return from +Philadelphia, Chris was very grave. When he and +Norma were halfway through their luncheon, in the +quiet angle of an old-fashioned restaurant, he told her +why. Alice was failing. Specialists had told him +that England was out of the question. She might +live a year, but the probability was against it. They—he +and Norma—Chris said, must consider this, now.</p> + +<p>Norma considered it with a paling face. It—it +couldn't make any difference, she said, quickly and +nervously.</p> + +<p>And then, for the first time, he talked to her of her +responsibility in the matter, of what their love meant +to them both. Wolf had his claim, true; but what was +truly the generous thing for a woman to do toward +a man she did not love? Wasn't a year or two of hurt +feelings, even anger and resentment, better than a +loveless marriage that might last fifty years?</p> + +<p>This was a terrible problem, and Norma did not +know what to think. On the one hand was the certainty +of that higher life from which she had been +exiled since her marriage: the music, the art, the letters, +the cultivated voices and fragrant rooms, the wealth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +and luxury, the devotion of this remarkable and charming +man, whose simple friendship had been beyond her +dreams a few years ago. On the other side was the +painful and indeed shameful desertion of Wolf, the +rupture with Aunt Kate and Rose, and the undying +sense in her own soul of an unworthy action.</p> + +<p>But Rose was absorbed in Harry and the children, +and Aunt Kate would surely go with Wolf to California, +three thousand miles away——</p> + +<p>"I am not brave enough!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> brave enough," Chris answered, quickly. +"Tell him the truth—as you did on your wedding day. +Tell him you acted on a mad impulse, and that you +are sorry. A few days' discomfort, and you are free, +and one week of happiness will blot out the whole +wretched memory for ever."</p> + +<p>"It is not wretchedness, Chris," she corrected, with +a rueful smile. But she did not contradict him, and +before they parted she promised him that she would not +go to California without at least telling Wolf how she +felt about it.</p> + +<p>Rose and Harry joined them for the Saturday night +reunion. Norma thought that Wolf seemed moody, +and was unresponsive to her generous welcome, and +she was conscious of watching him somewhat apprehensively +as the evening wore on. But it was Sunday +afternoon before the storm broke.</p> + +<p>Wolf was at church when Norma wakened, and as +she dressed she meditated a trifle uneasily over this +departure from their usual comfortable Sunday morning +habit. She breakfasted alone, Wolf and his mother +coming in for their belated coffee just as Norma, +prettily coated and hatted and furred, was leaving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +the house for the ten-o'clock Mass. They did not +meet again until luncheon, and as Wolf had explained +that he must leave at four o'clock for Philadelphia, +Norma began to think that this particular visit would +end without any definite unpleasantness.</p> + +<p>However, at about three o'clock, he invited her to +walk with him to the station, and join his mother later, +at Rose's house, in New Jersey, and Norma dared not +refuse. They locked the apartment, and walked slowly +down Broadway, as they had walked so many thousand +times before, in the streaming Sunday crowds. Before +they had gone a block Wolf opened hostilities by +asking abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Where did you go to church this morning?"</p> + +<p>Norma flushed, and laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"I went down to the Cathedral; I'm fond of it, you +know. Why?"</p> + +<p>"Did you meet Chris Liggett?" Wolf asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I did, Wolf. He goes to the church near +there, now and then."</p> + +<p>"When you telephone him to," Wolf said, grimly.</p> + +<p>Norma began to feel frightened. She had never +heard this tone from Wolf before.</p> + +<p>"I did telephone him, as a matter of fact—or rather +he happened to telephone me, and I said I was going +there. Is there anything so horrifying in that?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Just after you went out, the telephone operator +asked me if the Murray Hill number had gotten us," +Wolf answered; "that's how I happen to know."</p> + +<p>Norma was angry, ashamed, and afraid, all at once. +For twenty feet they walked in silence. She stole more +than one anxious look at her companion; Wolf's face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +was set like flint. He was buttoned into the familiar +old overcoat, a tall, brown, clean-shaven, and just now +scowling young man of the accepted American type, +firm of jaw, keen of eye, and with a somewhat homely +bluntness of feature preventing him from being describable +as handsome, or with at best a rough, hard, +open-eyed sort of handsomeness that was as unconscious +of itself as the beauty of a young animal.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, don't be cross," his wife pleaded, in illogical +coaxing.</p> + +<p>"I'm not cross," he said, with an annoyed glance +that humiliated and angered her. "But I don't like +this sort of thing, Norma, and I should think you'd +know why."</p> + +<p>"What sort of thing?" Norma countered, quickly.</p> + +<p>"The sort of thing that evidently Mr. Christopher +Liggett thinks is fair play!" Wolf said, with youthful +bitterness. "Harry saw you both walking up Fifth +Avenue yesterday, and Joe Anderson happened to +mention that you and a man were lunching together on +Thursday, down at the Lafayette. There may be no +harm in it——"</p> + +<p>"There <i>may</i> be!" Norma echoed, firing. "You +know very well there <i>isn't</i>!"</p> + +<p>"You see him every day," Wolf said.</p> + +<p>"I <i>don't</i> see him every day! But if I did, it wouldn't +be Harry Redding's and Joe Anderson's business!"</p> + +<p>"No," Wolf said, more mildly, "but it might be mine!"</p> + +<p>Norma realized that he was softening under her +distress, and she changed her tone.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, you know that you can trust me!" she said.</p> + +<p>"But I don't know anything about him!" Wolf +reminded her. "I know that he's twice your age——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +"He's thirty-eight!"</p> + +<p>"Thirty-eight, then—and I know that he's a loafer—a +rich man who has nothing else to do but run around +with women——"</p> + +<p>"I want to ask you to stop talking about something +of which you are entirely ignorant!" Norma interrupted, +hotly.</p> + +<p>"You're the one that's ignorant, Norma," Wolf said, +stubbornly, not looking at her. "You are only a little +girl; you think it's great fun to be married to one man, +and flirting with another! What makes me sick is that +a man like Liggett thinks he can get away with it, +and you women——"</p> + +<p>"If you say that again, I'll not walk with you!" +Norma burst in furiously.</p> + +<p>"Does it ever occur to you," Wolf asked, equally +roused, "that you are my wife?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Norma answered, breathlessly. "Yes—it +does! And why? Because I was afraid I was beginning +to care too much for Chris Liggett—because I knew he +loved me, he had told me so!—and I went to you because +I wanted to be safe—and I told you so, too, Wolf +Sheridan, the very day that we were married! I never +lied to you! I told you I loved Chris, that I always +had! And if you'd been <i>civil</i> to me," rushed on Norma, +beginning to feel tears mastering her, "if you'd been +<i>decent</i> to me, I would have gotten over it. I would +never have seen him again anyway, after this week, for +I told him this morning that I didn't want to go on +meeting him—that it wasn't fair to you! But no, you +don't trust me and you don't believe me, and consequently—consequently, +I don't care what I do, and +I'll make you sorry——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +"Don't talk so wildly, Norma," Wolf warned her, in +a tone suddenly quiet and sad. "Please don't—people +will notice you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't care if they do!" Norma said. But she +glanced about deserted Eighth Avenue uneasily none +the less, and furtively dried her eyes upon a flimsy +little transparent handkerchief that somehow tore at +her husband's heart. "If you had been a little patient, +Wolf——" she pleaded, reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"There are times when a man hasn't much use for +patience, Norma," Wolf said, still with strange gentleness. +"You <i>did</i> tell me of liking Liggett—but I +thought—I hoped, I guess——!" He paused, and then +went on with sudden fierceness: "He's married, +Norma, and you're married—I wish there was some +way of letting you out of it, as far as I am concerned! +Of course you don't have to go to California with me—if +that helps. You can get your freedom, easily enough, +after awhile. But as long as he's tied, it doesn't seem +to me that he has any business——"</p> + +<p>His gentle tone disarmed her, and she took up Chris's +defence eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Wolf, don't you believe there is such a thing as love? +Just that two people find out that they belong to each +other—whether it's right or wrong, or possible or impossible—and +that it may last for ever?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Wolf, harshly, "I don't believe it! He's +married—doesn't he love his wife?"</p> + +<p>"Well, of course he loves her! But this is the first +time in all his life that he has—cared—this way!" +Norma said.</p> + +<p>Wolf made no answer, and she felt that she had +scored. They were in the station now, and weaving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +their way down toward the big concourse. Norma +took her husband's arm.</p> + +<p>"Please—please—don't make scenes, Wolf! If you +will just believe me that I wouldn't—truly I wouldn't!—hurt +you and Aunt Kate for all the world——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Norma," he said, quickly, "I can't take my wife +on those terms!" And turning from the ticket window +he added, sensibly: "Liggett is tied, of course. But +would you like me to leave you here when I go West? +Until you are surer of yourself—one way or another? +You only have to say so!"</p> + +<p>She only had to say so. He had reached, of his own +accord, the very point to which she long had hoped +to bring him. But perversely, Norma did not quite +like to have Wolf go off to Philadelphia with this unpalatable +affirmative ringing in his ears. She looked +down. A moment's courage now, and she would win +everything—and more than everything!—to which Chris +had ever urged her. But she felt oddly sad and even +hurt by his willingness to give her her way.</p> + +<p>"All right!" he said, hastily. "That's understood. +I'll tell Mother I don't want you to follow, for awhile. +Good-bye, Norma! You're taking the next tube? +Wait a minute—I want a <i>Post</i>——"</p> + +<p>Was he trying to show her how mean he could be? she +thought, as with a heartache, and a confused sense of +wrong and distress, she slowly went upon her way. Of +course that parting was just bravado, of course he felt +more than that! She resented it—she thought he had +been unnecessarily unkind——</p> + +<p>But her spirits slowly settled themselves. Wolf +knew what she felt, now, and they had really parted +without bitterness. A pleasant sense of being her own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +mistress crept over her, her cheeks cooled, her fluttering +heart came back to its normal beat. She began to hear +herself telling Chris how courageous she had been.</p> + +<p>It was too bad—it was one of the sad things of life. +But after all, love was love, in spite of Wolf's scepticism, +and if it soothed Wolf to be rude, let him have that +consolation! What did a little pain more or less signify +now? There was no going back. Years from now +Wolf would forgive her, recognizing that great love +was its own excuse for being. "And if this sort of thing +exists only to be crushed and killed," Norma wrote +Chris a few days later, "then half the great pictures, +the great novels, the great poems and dramas, the +great operas, are lies. But you and I know that they +are not lies!"</p> + +<p>She was unhappy at home, for Aunt Kate was grave +and silent, Rose wrapped in the all-absorbing question +of the tiny Catherine's meals, and Wolf neither came +nor wrote on Saturday night. But in Chris's devotion +she was feverishly and breathlessly happy, their meetings—always +in public places, and without a visible +evidence of their emotion—were hours of the most +stimulating delight.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">So matters</span> went on for another ten days. Then +suddenly, on a mid-week afternoon, Norma, walking +home from a luncheon in a wild and stormy wind, was +amazed to see the familiar, low-slung roadster waiting +outside her aunt's door when she reached the steps. +Chris jumped out and came to meet her as she looked +bewilderedly toward it, a Chris curiously different in +manner from the man she had left only an hour ago.</p> + +<p>"Norma!" he said, quickly, "I found a message +when I got to the office. I was to call up Aunt Marianna's +house at once. She's ill—<i>very</i> ill. They want +me, and they want you!"</p> + +<p>"Me?" she echoed, blankly. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"She's had a stroke," he said, still with that urgent +and hurried air, "and Joseph—poor old fellow, he was +completely broken up—said that she had been begging +them to get hold of you!"</p> + +<p>Norma had gotten into the familiar front seat, but +now she stayed him with a quick hand.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Chris, I'll run up and tell Aunt Kate +where I am going!" she said.</p> + +<p>"She's gone out. There's nobody there!" he assured +her, glancing up at the apartment windows. "I knew +you would be coming in, so I waited."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll telephone!" the girl said, settling herself +again. "But what do you suppose she wants me for?" +she asked, returning to the subject of the summons.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +"Have they—will they—send for Aunt Annie and +Leslie, do you suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Leslie is in Florida with the Binneys, most unfortunately. +Annie was in Baltimore yesterday, but I +believe she was expected home to-day. Joseph said +he had gotten hold of Hendrick von Behrens, and +I told my clerk to get Acton, and to warn Miss Slater +that Alice isn't to be frightened."</p> + +<p>"But, Chris—do you suppose she is dying?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—one never does, of course, with paralysis."</p> + +<p>"Poor Aunt Alice—it will almost kill her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it will be terribly hard for her, harder than for +any one," he answered. And Norma loved him for the +grave sympathy that filled his voice, and for the poise +that could make such a speech possible, under the +circumstances, without ever a side glance for her.</p> + +<p>Then they reached the old house, ran up the steps, +and were in the great dark hallway that already seemed +to be filled with the shadow of change.</p> + +<p>Whispering, solemn-faced maids went to and fro; +Joseph was red-eyed; the heavy fur coats of two doctors +were flung upon chairs. Norma slipped from her own +coat.</p> + +<p>"How is she, Joseph?"</p> + +<p>"I hardly know, Miss. You're to go up, please, and +Regina was to tell one of the nurses at once that you +had come, Miss." He delivered his message impassively +enough, but then the human note must break +through. "I've been with her since she was married, +Miss—nigh forty years," the old man faltered, "and +I'm afraid she is very bad—very bad, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>hope</i> not!" Norma went noiselessly upstairs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +Chris close behind her. Did she hope not? She +hardly knew. But she knew that all this was strangely +thrilling—this rush through the tossing windy afternoon +to the old house, this sense of being a part of the emergency, +this utter departure from the tedious routine +of life.</p> + +<p>A serious-faced nurse took charge of them, and she +and Chris followed her noiselessly into the familiar +bedroom that yet looked so altered in its new lifeless +order and emptiness. The clutter of personal possessions +was already gone, chairs had been straightened +and pushed back, and on the bed that had lately been +frilled and embroidered in white and pink, and piled +with foolish little transparent baby pillows, a fresh, +flawless linen sheet was spread. Silence reigned in +the wide chamber; but two doctors were standing by +the window, and looked at the newcomers with interest, +and a second nurse passed them on her way out. Norma +vaguely noted the fire, burning clear and bright, the +shaded light that showed a chart, on a cleared table, +the absence of flowers and plants that made the place +seem bare. But after one general impression her attention +was riveted upon the sick woman, and with +her heart beating quickly with fright she went to stand +at the foot of the great walnut bed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose was lying with her head tipped back +in pillows; her usually gentle, soft old face looked hard +and lined, and was a dark red, and the scanty gray hair, +brushed back mercilessly from the temples, and devoid +of the usual puffs and transformations, made her look +her full sixty years. Her eyes were half-open, but +she did not move them, her lips seemed very dry, and +occasionally she muttered restlessly, and a third nurse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +bending above her, leaned anxiously near, to catch +what she said, and perhaps murmur a soothing response.</p> + +<p>This nurse looked sharply at Norma, and breathed +rather than whispered: "Mrs. Sheridan?" and when +Norma answered with a nod, nodded herself in satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"She's been asking and asking for you," she said, in a +low clear tone that oddly broke the unnatural silence +of the room. Norma, hearing a stir behind her, looked +back to see that both doctors had come over to the +bed, and were looking down at their patient with a profound +concern that their gray heads and their big spectacles +oddly emphasized.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Sheridan?" one of them questioned. Norma +dared not use her voice, and nodded again. Immediately +the doctor leaned over Mrs. Melrose, and said +in a clear and encouraging tone: "Here is Mrs. Sheridan +now!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose merely moaned heavily in answer, +and Norma said softly, to the doctor who had spoken:</p> + +<p>"I think perhaps she was asking for my aunt—who is +also Mrs. Sheridan!"</p> + +<p>Before the doctor, gravely considering, could answer, +the sick woman startled them all by saying, almost +fretfully, in a surprisingly clear and quiet voice:</p> + +<p>"No—no—no, I want you, Norma!"</p> + +<p>She groped blindly about with her hand, as she spoke, +and Norma kneeled down, and covered it with both +her own. Mrs. Melrose immediately began to breathe +more easily, and sank at once into the stupor from which +she had only momentarily roused.</p> + +<p>Norma looked for instruction to the doctor, who +presently decided that there was nothing more to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +gained for a time; she joined them presently, with +Chris, in the adjoining room. This was the same old +room of her first visit to the house, with the same rich +old brocaded paper and fringed rep draperies, with +the same pictures, and a few new ones, lined on the +mantel.</p> + +<p>"Where are Mrs. von Behrens and Leslie?" Doctor +Murray, who had known all the family intimately for +years, asked Chris.</p> + +<p>"Is it so serious, Doctor?" Christopher asked in turn, +when he had answered. The doctor, glancing toward +the closed door, nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"A matter of a day or two," he said, looking at the +other old doctor for confirmation. "She was apparently +perfectly normal last night, went to bed at her +usual hour," he said, "this morning she complained +of her head, when the maid went in at ten, said that +she must have hurt it—struck it against something. +The maid, a sensible young woman, was uneasy, and +telephoned for me. Unfortunately, I was in Westchester +this morning, but I got here at about one o'clock +and found her as she is now. She has had a stroke—probably +several slight shocks."</p> + +<p>"Why, but she was perfectly well day before yesterday!" +Norma said, in amazement. "And only ten +days ago she came back from Florida, and said that +she never felt better!"</p> + +<p>"That is frequently the history of the disease," the +second doctor said, sagely. And, glancing at his watch, +he added, "I don't think you will need me again, +Doctor Murray?"</p> + +<p>"What are the chances of her—knowing anybody?" +Chris asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +"She may very probably have another lucid interval," +Doctor Murray said. "If Mrs. Sheridan could +arrange to stay, it would be advisable. She asked +for her daughters, but she seemed even more anxious +that we should send for—<i>you</i>." He glanced at Norma, +with a little old-fashioned bow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sheridan could stay, of course. She would telephone +home, and advise Aunt Kate, at once. Indeed, +so keen was Norma's sense almost of enjoyment in this +thrilling hour that she would have been extremely +sorry to leave the house. It was sad, it was dreadful, +of course, to think that poor old Aunt Marianna was so +ill, but at the same time it was most dramatic. She +and Chris settled themselves before the fire in the upstairs +sitting-room with Doctor Murray, who entertained +them with mild reminiscences of the Civil War. +The storm was upon the city now, rain slashed at the +windows and the wind howled bitterly.</p> + +<p>There was whispering in the old house, quiet footsteps, +muffled voices at the door and telephone. At +about six o'clock Chris went home, to tell Alice, with +what tenderness he might, of the impending sorrow. +Regina, who had been weeping bitterly, and would +speak to no one, brought Norma and the doctor two +smoking hot cups of bouillon on a tray.</p> + +<p>"And you mustn't get tired, Mrs. Sheridan," one +of the nurses, herself healthily odorous of a beef and +apple-pie dinner, said kindly to Norma, at about +seven o'clock. "There'll be coffee and sandwiches all +night. This is a part of our lives, you know, and we get +used to it, but it's hard for those not accustomed to it."</p> + +<p>At about nine o'clock in the evening Chris came back. +Alice had received the news bravely, he said; there had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +been no hysteria and she kept admirable control of +herself, and he had left her ready for sleep. But it +had hit her very hard. Miss Slater had promised +him that she would put a sleeping powder into Alice's +regular ten o'clock glass of hot milk, and let him know +when she was safely off.</p> + +<p>"She is very thankful that you are here, she was +uneasy every instant that I stayed away!" he said +softly to Norma, and Norma nodded her approval. +Long before eleven o'clock they had the report that +Alice was sleeping soundly under the combined effect +of the powder and Miss Slater's repeated and earnest +assurance that there was no immediate danger as +regarded her mother.</p> + +<p>Chris and Norma and the doctor and two of the +nurses went down to the dining-room, and had sandwiches +and coffee, and talked long and sadly of the +briefness and mutability of mortal life. When they +went upstairs again the doctor stretched out for some +rest, on the sitting-room couch, and Norma went to +her own old room, and got into her comfortable, thick +padded wrapper and warm slippers. The night was +still wet and stormy, and had turned cold. Hail +rattled on the window sills.</p> + +<p>Then she crept into the sick-room, and joined the +nurses in their unrelenting vigil. Mrs. Melrose was +still lying back, her eyes half-open, her face darkly +flushed, her lips moving in an incoherent mutter. +Now and then they caught the syllables of Norma's +name, and once she said "Kate!" so sharply that everyone +in the sick chamber started.</p> + +<p>Norma, leaning back in a great chair by the bed, +mused and pondered as the slow hours went by. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +softened lights touched the nurses' crisp aprons, the +fire was out now, and only the two softly palpitating +disks from the shaded lamps dimly illumined the room.</p> + +<p>Annie and Theodore and Alice had all been born in +this very room, Norma thought. She imagined Aunt +Marianna, a handsome, stout, radiant young woman, +in the bustles and pleats of the early eighties, with the +flowing ruffles of Theodore's christening robe spreading +over her lap. How wonderful life must have seemed to +her then, rich and young, and adored by her husband, +and with her first-born child receiving all the homage +due the heir of the great name and fortune! Then +came Annie, and some years later Alice, and how busy +and happy their mother must have been with plenty +of money for schools and frocks, trips to the country +with her handsome, imperious children; trips to Europe +when no desire need be denied them, all the world the +playground for the fortunate Melroses!</p> + +<p>How short the perspective must look now, thought +Norma, to that troubled brain that was struggling +among closing shadows, nearer and nearer every slow +clocktick to the end. How loathsome it must be to the +prisoned spirit, this handsome, stifling room, this army +of maids and nurses and doctors so decorously resigned +to facing the last scene of all. Why, the poorest child +in the city to-night, healthily asleep in some unspeakable +makeshift for a bed, possessed what all the Melrose +money could not buy for this moaning, suffocating old +autocrat.</p> + +<p>"I should like to die out on a hillside, under the +stars," thought Norma, "with no one to watch me. +This is—somehow—so horrible!"</p> + +<p>And she crept toward the bed and slipped to her knees<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +again, forcing herself against her inclination—for somehow +prayers seemed to have nothing to do with this +scene—to pray for the departing soul.</p> + +<p>"Norma," the old lady said, suddenly, opening her +eyes. She looked quietly and intelligently at the girl.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear!" Norma stammered, with a frightened +glance toward the nurses.</p> + +<p>These were instantly intent, at the bedside. But Mrs. +Melrose paid no attention to them. She patted +Norma's hand.</p> + +<p>"Late for you, dear!" she whispered. "Night!" +Obediently she drank something the nurse put to her +lips, and when she spoke it was more clearly. A moment +later Doctor Murray had her pulse between his +nerveless fingers. She moved her eyes lazily to smile +at him. "Tide running out, old friend!" she said, in a +deep, rich voice. The doctor smiled, shaking his head, +but Norma saw his eyes glisten behind his glasses.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mrs. Melrose frowned, and began to show +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Norma!" she said, quickly. "I want Chris!"</p> + +<p>"Right here, Aunt Marianna!" Norma answered, +soothingly. And Chris was indeed leaning over the bed +almost before she finished speaking.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you and Chris," the old lady +said, contentedly closing her eyes. "Everybody else +out!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>The room was immediately cleared. "It can't hurt +her now!" Doctor Murray looked rather than said to +Norma as he passed her. Chris watched the closing +doors, sat beside the bed's head with one arm half-supporting +his mother-in-law's pillows.</p> + +<p>"We're all alone, Aunt Marianna," he said. "Leslie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +and Annie will be here in the morning, and Alice told +me to tell you that she hoped——"</p> + +<p>"Chris," the sick woman interrupted, gazing at him +with an intense and painful stare, "this child here—Norma! +I—I must straighten it all out now, Chris. +Kate knows. Kate has all the papers—letters—Louison's +letters! Ask Kate——"</p> + +<p>She shut her eyes. Norma and Chris looked at one +another in bewilderment. There was a long silence.</p> + +<p>"So now you know!" Mrs. Melrose said, presently, +returning to full consciousness as naturally as she had +before. "I told you, didn't I?" she asked, faintly +anxious.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother now, Aunt Marianna," the girl begged +in distress. "To-morrow——"</p> + +<p>"Louison," Mrs. Melrose said, "was Annie's French +maid—very superior girl!"</p> + +<p>"I remember her—Theodore's wife," Chris said, +eager to help her.</p> + +<p>"And she was this girl's mother," Mrs. Melrose added, +clasping Norma's fingers. "You understand that, +Chris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, darling—we understand!" Norma said, with a +nod to Chris that he was to humour her. But Chris +looked only strangely troubled.</p> + +<p>"Annie's poor baby lived—Kate brought it home +from France, and we named it Leslie," the invalid said, +clearly. "I couldn't—I couldn't forget it, Chris. I +used to go see it—at Kate's. And then, when it was +three, I met Louison—poor girl, I had been cruel to her—and +Theodore was far off in California—dying, we +knew. And I met Louison in Brooklyn. And I had +a sudden idea, Chris! I told her to go to Kate, and get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +Annie's baby, and bring it to me as if it was her own. +I told her to! I told her to say that it was her baby—Theodore's +baby. And she did, Chris, and I paid her +well for it. She brought Leslie here, and Annie never +knew—nobody ever knew! But I never knew that +Louison had a baby of her own, Chris—I never knew +that! Louison hated me, and she never told me she +had a little girl. No—no—no, I never knew that!"</p> + +<p>"Then Leslie—is—Annie's child by Müller, the riding +master!" Chris whispered, staring blindly ahead of him. +"And what—what became of the other child—Theodore's +child?"</p> + +<p>"Louison kept her until she was five," the old lady explained, +eagerly, "and then she wanted to marry again, +and she had to go live in a wild sort of place, in Canada. +She didn't want to take the little girl there, and she +remembered Kate Sheridan, who had had the other +baby, and who had been so good to it—so devoted to it! +And she went there, Chris, and left her baby there."</p> + +<p>"And that baby——" Chris began.</p> + +<p>"Yes. That was Norma!" Mrs. Melrose said. "It +is all Norma's, the whole thing—and you must take +care that she gets it, Chris. I—even my will, dear, +only gives Norma the Melrose Building and some bonds. +But those are for Leslie, now, all the rest—the whole +estate goes to Theodore's child—Norma. You must +forgive me if I did it all wrong. I meant it for the best. +I never knew that you were living, dear, until Kate +brought you here three years ago. She didn't dare do +it until your mother died; she had promised she would +never tell a living soul. But Louison softened toward +the end, and wrote Kate she must use her own judgment. +And Kate—Kate—knows all about it——"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +The voice thickened. The old lady raised herself in +bed.</p> + +<p>"That man—behind you, Chris!" she gasped. Chris +put her down again, Norma flew for help. The muttering +and the heavy breathing recommenced. Nurses and doctors +ran back, Regina came to kneel at the foot of the bed.</p> + +<p>Another slight stroke, they said later, when they were +all about the fire in the next room again. Norma was +white, her eyes glittering, her bitten lips scarlet in her +colourless face. Chris looked stunned.</p> + +<p>But he found time for just one aside, as the endless +night wore on. Annie had arrived, superbly horrified +and stricken, and Acton was there. Mrs. Melrose was +still breathing. The sickly light of a winter morning +was tugging at the shutters.</p> + +<p>"Norma," Chris said, "do you realize what a tremendous +thing has happened to you? Do you realize +who you are? You are a rich woman now, my dear!"</p> + +<p>"But do you believe it?" she asked, in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"I know it is true! It explains everything," he answered. +"It will be a cruel blow to Leslie—poor child, +and Annie, too. Alice, I think, need never know. But +Norma—even though this doesn't seem the time or the +place, let me be the first to congratulate you on your +new position—my old friend Theodore's daughter, and +the last of the Melroses!"</p> + +<p>At seven o'clock in the morning Norma, exhausted +with excitement and emotion, took a hot bath, and finding +things unchanged in the sick-room, except that the +lights had been extinguished, and the winter daylight +was drearily mingling with firelight, went on downstairs +for coffee and for one more conference with the blinking +nurses and the tired old doctor. She found herself too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +shaken to eat, but the hot drink was wonderfully soothing +and stimulating, and for the first time, as she stood +looking out into the street from the dining-room window, +a sense of power and pride began to thrill her. Old +people must die, of course, and after this sad and dark +scene was over—then what? Then what? Then she +would be in Leslie's long-envied place, the heiress, the +important figure among all the changes that followed.</p> + +<p>"If you please, Mrs. Sheridan——!" It was Joseph, +haggard and white, who had come softly behind her to +interrupt her thoughts. She glanced with quick apprehension +toward the hall stairway. There had been a +change——?</p> + +<p>"No, it was the telephone, Miss." Norma, puzzled by +the old butler's stricken air, went to the instrument. +It was Miss Slater.</p> + +<p>"Norma," Miss Slater said, agitatedly, "is Mr. Liggett—there?"</p> + +<p>"I think he's with Aunt Annie, upstairs, but he's +going home about eight," Norma answered. "There is +no change. Is Aunt Alice awake? Mr. Liggett wanted +to be there when she woke!"</p> + +<p>"No—she's not awake," the other woman's voice said, +solemnly. "She went to sleep like a child last night, +Norma. But about half an hour ago I went in—she +hadn't called me—it was just instinct, I suppose! She +was lying—hadn't changed her position even——"</p> + +<p>"<i>What's that!</i>" Norma cried, in a whisper that was +like a scream. The grave voice and the sudden break +of tears chilled her to the soul.</p> + +<p>"We've had Doctor Merrill here," Miss Slater said. +"Norma, you'll have to tell him—God help us all! +She's gone!"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Mrs. Melrose</span> never spoke again, or showed another +flicker of the clear and normal intelligence that she had +shown in the night. But she still breathed, and the +long, wet day dragged slowly, in the big, mournful old +house, until late in the unnatural afternoon. People—all +sorts of people—were coming and going now, and being +answered, or being turned away; a few privileged old +friends came softly up the carpeted stairs, and cried +quietly with Annie, who looked unbelievably old and +ashen under the double shock. Norma began to hear, +on all sides, respectful and sympathetic references to +"the family." The family felt this, and would like that, +the family was not seeing any one, the family must be +protected and considered in every way. The privileged +old friends talked with strange men in the lower hall, +and were heard saying "I suppose so" dubiously, to +questions of hats and veils and carriages and the church.</p> + +<p>Chris was gone all day, but at four o'clock an urgent +message was sent him, and he and Acton came into +Mrs. Melrose's room about half an hour later, for the +end. His face was ghastly, and he seemed almost unable +to understand what was said to him, but he was +very quiet.</p> + +<p>Norma never forgot the scene. She knelt on one side +of the bed, praying with all the concentration and fervour +that she could rally under the circumstances. But +her frightened, tired eyes were impressed with every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +detail of the dark old stately bedroom none the less. +This was the end of the road, for youth and beauty and +power and wealth, this sunken, unrecognizable face, this +gathering of shadows among the dull, wintry shadows +of the afternoon.</p> + +<p>Annie was kneeling, too, her fine, unringed hands +clasping one of her mother's hands. Chris sat against +the back of the bed, half-supporting the piled pillows, in +a futile attempt to make more easy the fighting breath, +and Acton and Hendrick von Behrens, grave and awed, +stood beside him, their faces full of sympathy and distress. +There was an outer fringe of nurses, doctors, +maids; there was even an audible whisper from one of +them that caused Annie to frown, annoyed and rebuking, +over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>Minutes passed. Norma, pressing her cheek against +the hand she held, began a Litany, very low. Suddenly +the dying woman opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes—yes!" she whispered, eagerly, and with a +break in her frightened voice Norma began more clearly, +"Our Father, Who art in Heaven——" and they all +joined in, somewhat awkwardly and uncertainly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Melrose sank back; she had raised herself just a +fraction of an inch to speak. Now her head fell, and +Norma saw the florid colour drain from her face as +wine drains from an overturned glass. A leaden pallor +settled suddenly upon her. When the prayer was finished +they waited—eyed each other—waited again. +There was no other breath.</p> + +<p>"Doctor——" Annie cried, choking. The doctor +gently laid down the limp hand he had raised; it was already +cool. And behind him the maids began to sob +and wail unrebuked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +Norma went out into the hall dazed and shaken. +This was her first sight of death. It made her feel a +little faint and sick. Chris came and talked to her for +a few minutes; Annie had collapsed utterly, and was +under the doctor's care; Acton broke down, too, and +Norma heard Chris attempting to quiet him. There +was audible sobbing all over the house when, an hour or +two later, Alice's beautiful body in a magnificent casket +was brought to lie in the old home beside the mother +she had adored.</p> + +<p>The fragrance of masses and masses of damp flowers +began to penetrate everywhere, and Norma made occasional +pilgrimages in to Annie's bedside, and told +her what beautiful offerings were coming and coming +and coming. Joseph had reinforcements of sympathetic, +black-clad young men, who kept opening the front door, +and murmuring at the muffled telephone. Annie's +secretary, a young woman about Norma's age, was +detailed by Hendrick to keep cards and messages +straight—for every little courtesy must be acknowledged +on Annie's black-bordered card within a few weeks' +time—and Norma heard Joseph telephoning several of +the prominent florists that Mr. Liggett had directed +that all flowers were to come to the Melrose house. +Nothing was overlooked.</p> + +<p>When Norma went to her room, big boxes were on the +bed, boxes that held everything that was simple and +beautiful in mourning: plain, charming frocks, a smart +long seal-bordered coat, veils and gloves, small and +elegant hats, even black-bordered handkerchiefs. She +dressed herself soberly, yet not without that mournful +thrill that fitness and becomingness lends to bereavement. +When she went back to Annie's side Annie was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +in beautiful lengths of lustreless crape, too; they settled +down to low, sad conversation, with a few of the privileged +old friends. Chris was nowhere to be seen, but +at about six o'clock Acton came in to show them a +telegram from Leslie, flying homeward. Judge Lee was +hurrying to them from Washington, and for a few minutes +Annie's handsome, bewildered little boys came in +with a governess, and she cried over them, and clung to +them forlornly.</p> + +<p>After a distracted half-hour in the dining-room, when +she and Acton and Annie's secretary had soup and salad +from a sort of buffet meal that was going on there indefinitely, +Norma went upstairs to find that the door to +the front upper sitting-room, closed for hours, was set +ajar, and to see a vague mass of beautiful flowers within—white +and purple flowers, and wreaths of shining dark +round leaves. With a quick-beating heart she stepped +softly inside, and went to kneel at the nearer coffin, and +cover her face with her shaking hands. The thick sweetness +of the wet leaves and blossoms enveloped her. +Candles were burning; there was no other light.</p> + +<p>Two or three other women were in the room, catching +their breath up through their nostrils with little gasps, +pressing folded handkerchiefs against their trembling +mouths, letting fresh tears well from their tear-reddened +eyes. Chris was standing a few feet away from the +white-clad, flower-circled, radiant sleeper who had been +Alice; his arms were folded, his splendid dark gaze fell +upon her with a sort of sombre calm; he seemed entirely +unconscious of the pitying and sorrowful friends who +were moving noiselessly to and fro.</p> + +<p>In the candlelight there was a wavering smile on +Alice's quiet face, her broad forehead was unruffled, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +her mouth mysteriously sweet. Norma's eyes fell upon +a familiar black coat, on the kneeling woman nearest +her, and with a start she recognized Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>They left the room together a few minutes later, and +Norma led her aunt to her own room, where they talked +tenderly of the dead. The older woman was touched +by the slender little black figure, and badly shaken by +the double tragedy, and she cried quite openly. Norma +had Regina send her up some tea, and petted and fussed +about her in her little daughterly way.</p> + +<p>"I saw about Miss Alice this morning, but I had no +idea the poor old lady——!" Mrs. Sheridan commented +sadly. "Well, well, it seems only yesterday +that here, in this very house—and they were all young +then——" Aunt Kate fell silent, and mused for a +moment, before adding briskly: "But now, will they +want you, Norma, after the funeral, I mean? Wolf +wrote me——"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Aunt Annie wants me now," Norma +said, and with a heightened colour she added, suddenly, +"But I belong here, now, Aunt Kate—I know who I am +at last!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sheridan's face did not move; but an indefinable +tightness came about her mouth, and an indefinable +sharpness to her eyes. She looked at Norma without +speaking.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Marianna told me," the girl said, simply. +"You're sorry," she added, quickly, "I can see you are!"</p> + +<p>"No—I wouldn't say that, Baby!" But Mrs. Sheridan +spoke heavily, and ended on a sigh. There was a +short silence.</p> + +<p>Then Regina came in with a note for Norma, who +read it, and turned to her aunt.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +"It's Chris—he wants very much to see you before +you go away," she said. "I wonder if you would ask +Mr. Liggett to come in here, Regina?" But five minutes +later, when Chris came in, he looked so ill that she +was quick to spare him. "Chris, wouldn't to-morrow +do—you look so tired!"</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> tired," Chris said, after quietly accepting Mrs. +Sheridan's murmured condolence, with his hand holding +hers, as if he liked the big, sympathetic woman. "But +I want this off my mind before I see Judge Lee! You +are right, Mrs. Sheridan," he said, with a sort of boyish +gruffness, not yet releasing her hands, "my wife was an +angel. I always knew it—but I wish I could tell her so +just once more!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the very hardest thing about death," +Mrs. Sheridan said, sitting down, and quite frankly +wiping from her eyes the tears that sympathy for his +sorrow had made spring again. "We'd always want +one more hour!"</p> + +<p>"But Norma perhaps has told you——?" Chris said, +in a different tone. "Told you of the—the remarkable +talk we had yesterday—with my poor mother-in-law——"</p> + +<p>Kate Sheridan nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, almost reluctantly, "Norma is +Theodore Melrose's child. I have letters—all their +letters. I knew her mother, that was Louison Courtot, +well. It was a mixed-up business—but you've got the +whole truth at last. I've lost more than one night's +sleep over my share of it, Mr. Liggett, thinking who this +child was, and whether I had the right to hold my +tongue.</p> + +<p>"I was a widow when I went to Germany with Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +Melrose. She begged and begged me to, for she was +sick with worry about Miss Annie. Miss Annie had +been over there about eight months, and something +she'd written had made her mother feel that she was ill, +or in trouble. Well, I didn't want to leave my own +children, but she coaxed me so hard that I went. We +sailed without cabling, and went straight to Leipsic, +and to the dreadful, dreary pension that Miss Annie +was in—a dismal, lonely place. She came downstairs to +see her mother, and I'll never forget the scream she gave, +for she'd had no warning, poor child, and Müller had +taken all her money, and she was—well, we could see +how she was. She began laughing and crying, and her +mother did, too, but Mrs. Melrose stopped after a few +minutes, and we couldn't stop Miss Annie at all. She +shrieked and sobbed and strangled until we saw she was +ill, and her mother gave me one look, and bundled her +right out to the carriage, and off to a better place, and +we got a doctor and a nurse. But all that night she was +in danger of her life. I went in to her room that evening, +to put things in order, and she was lying on the bed +like a dead thing—white, sick, and with her eyes never +moving off her mother's face. I could hear her murmuring +the whole story, the shame and the bitter cruelty +of it, crying sometimes—and her mother crying, too.</p> + +<p>"'And, Mama,' she said—the innocence of her! +'Mama, did the doctor tell you that there might have +been a baby?—I didn't know it myself until a few weeks +ago! And that's why they're so frightened about me +now. But,' she said, beginning to cry again, 'I should +have hated it—I've always hated it, and I'd rather have +it all over—I don't want to have to face anything +more!'</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +"Well, it looked then as if she couldn't possibly live +through the night, and all her mother could think of +was to comfort her. She told her that they would go +away and forget it all, and Miss Annie clung to her +through the whole terrible thing. We none of us got +any sleep that night, and I think it was at about three +o'clock the next morning that I crept to the door, +and the doctor—Doctor Leslie—an old English doctor +who was very kind, came to the door and gave me the +poor little pitiful baby in a blanket. I almost screamed +when I took it, for the poor little soul was alive, working +her little mouth! I took her to my room, and indeed +I baptized her myself—I named her Mary for my +mother, and Leslie for the doctor, but I never thought +she'd need a name—then. She was under four pounds, +and with a little claw like a monkey's paw, and so thin +we didn't dare dress her—we thought she was three +months too soon, then, and I just sat watching her, +waiting for her to die, and thinking of my own——!</p> + +<p>"Miss Annie was given up the next day, she'd gone +into a brain fever, but my poor little soul was wailing +a good healthy wail—I remember I cried bitterly when +the doctor told me not to hope for her! But she lived—and +on the fourth day Mrs. Melrose sent us away, +and we went and stayed in the country for two months +after that.</p> + +<p>"Then I had a letter from the Riviera, the first +that'd come. Miss Annie was getting well, her hair +was coming out curly, and she hardly remembered +anything about what had happened at all. She wasn't +nineteen then, poor child! She had cried once, her +mother wrote, and had said she thanked God the baby +had died and that was all she ever said of it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +"I brought the baby home, and for nearly three years +she lived with my own, and of course Mrs. Melrose paid +me for it. And then one day Louison Courtot came to +see me—I'd known her, of course—Mr. Theodore's wife, +that had been Miss Annie's maid. She had a letter +from Mrs. Melrose, and she took Leslie away, and gave +her to her grandmother—just according to plan. +Well, I didn't like it—though it gave the child her +rights, but it didn't seem honest. I had no call to +interfere, and a few months later Mrs. Melrose gave +me the double house in Brooklyn, that you'll well +remember, Norma—and your own father made out +the deed of gift, Mr. Chris——!</p> + +<p>"And then, perhaps a year later, Louison came to +call on me again, and with her was a little girl—four +years old, and I looked at her, and looked at Louison, +and I said, 'My God—that's a Melrose!' She said, +yes, it was Theodore's child."</p> + +<p>"Norma!" Chris said.</p> + +<p>"Norma—and I remember her as if it was yesterday! +With a blue velvet coat on her, and a white collar, and +the way she dragged off her little mittens to go over +and play with Rose and Wolf—and the little coaxing +air she had! So then Louison told me the story, +how she had never told Mrs. Melrose that Theodore +really had a daughter, because she hated her so! But +she was going to be married again, and go to Canada, +and she wanted me to keep the baby until she could +send for her. I said I would see how it went, but +I could see then that there never was in the world——" +Mrs. Sheridan interrupted herself, coughed, and glanced +at the girl. "Well, we liked Norma right then and +there!" she finished, a little tamely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +"Oh, Aunt Kate!" Norma said, smiling through +tears, her hand tight upon the older woman's, "you +never will praise me!"</p> + +<p>"So Norma," the story went on, "had her supper +that night between my two children, and for fourteen +years she never knew that she wasn't our own. And +perhaps she never would have known if Louison hadn't +written me that she was in a hospital—she was to +have an operation, and she was willing at last to make +peace with her husband's family. In the same letter +was her husband's note that she was gone, so I had +to use my own judgment then. And when I heard +Norma talk of the rich girls she saw in the bookstore, +Mr. Chris, and knew how she loved what money could +do for her, it seemed to me that at least I must tell +her grandmother the truth. So we came here, three +years ago, and if it wasn't for Miss Alice's mistake about +her, perhaps the story would have come out then! +But that's all the truth."</p> + +<p>Chris nodded, his arms folded on his chest, his tired +face very thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"It makes her a rich woman, Mrs. Sheridan," he +said.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so, sir. I understand Mr. Melrose—the +old gentleman—left everything to his son, Theodore."</p> + +<p>"But not only that," Chris said. "She can claim +every penny that has ever been paid over to Leslie, +all through her minority, and since she came of age, +and she also inherits the larger part of her grandmother's +estate, under the will. Probably Mrs. +Melrose would have changed that, if she had lived +when all this came to light, and given that same legacy +to Leslie, but we can't act on that supposition. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +court will probably feel that a very grave injustice +has been done Norma, and exact the full arrears."</p> + +<p>"But, Chris," Norma said, quickly, "surely some way +can be found to <i>give</i> Leslie all that would have come +to me——"</p> + +<p>"Well, that, of course, would be pure generosity on +your part!" he said, quietly. "However, it would seem +to me desirable all round," he added, "to keep this in +the family."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think so!" Norma agreed, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Annie and Hendrick must be informed, and, as +Leslie's mother, Annie will provide for her some day, +of course. We'll discuss all that later. But to-day +I only wanted to clear up a few points before I see +Judge Lee. He has the will, I believe. He will be +here to-morrow morning. In the meanwhile, I think +I would say nothing, Norma, just because Annie is so +upset, and if Leslie heard any garbled story, before +she got here——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I agree with you entirely, Chris! Anything +that makes it easier all round!" Norma could afford +to be magnanimous and agreeable. She would not +have been human not to feel herself the most interesting +figure in all this dramatic situation, not to know that +thoughtfulness and generosity were the most charming +parts of her new rôle. Quietly, affectionately, she +went to the door with Aunt Kate.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could go home with you!" she said. "But +I think they need me here! And if Wolf should come +up Saturday, Aunt Kate, you'll tell him about the +funeral——"</p> + +<p>"Rose said he wasn't coming up on Saturday," +his mother said. "But if he does, of course he'll under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>stand! +Remember, Norma," she added, drawing the +girl aside a moment, in the lower hall, "remember +that they've all been very kind to you, dear! It's +going to be hard for them all!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" Norma said, hastily, the admonition +not to her taste.</p> + +<p>"And what you and Wolf will do with all that +money——!" her aunt mused, shaking her head. "Well, +one thing at a time! But I know," she finished, fondly, +"my girl will show them all what a generous and a +lovely nature she has, in all the changes and shifts!"</p> + +<p>Clever Aunt Kate! Norma smiled to herself as she +went upstairs. She had hundreds of times before this +guided the girl by premature confidence and praise; she +knew how Norma loved the approbation of those about +her.</p> + +<p>Not but what Norma meant to be everything that +was broad and considerate now; she had assumed that +position from the beginning. Leslie's chagrin, Aunt +Annie's consternation, should be respected and humoured. +They had sometimes shown her the arrogant, +the supercilious side of the Melrose nature, in the years +gone by. Now she, the truest Melrose of them all, +would show them real greatness of soul. She would +talk it all over with Wolf, of course——</p> + +<p>She missed Wolf. It was, as always, a curiously +unsatisfying atmosphere, this of the old Melrose house. +The whispers, the hushed footsteps, the lowered voices, +Aunt Annie's plaintive heroism in her superb crapes, +the almost belligerent loyalty of the intimate friends +who praised and marvelled at her, the costly flowers—thousands +of dollars' worth of them—the extra men +helping Joseph to keep everything decorous and beauti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>ful—somehow +it all sickened Norma, and she wished that +Wolf could come and take her for a walk, and talk to +her about it. He would be interested in it all, and he +would laugh at her account of the undertakers, and he +would break into elementary socialism when the cost of +the whole pompous pageant was estimated.</p> + +<p>And what would he think of her new-found wealth? +Norma tried to imagine it, but somehow she could not +think of Wolf as very much affected. He hated society, +primarily, and he would never be idle, not for the treasures +of India. He would let her spend it as she pleased, +and go on working rapturously at his valves and +meters and gauges, perhaps delighted if she bought +him the costliest motor-car made, or the finest of +mechanical piano-players, but quite as willing that +the pearls about his wife's throat should cost fifty +dollars as fifty thousand, and quite as anxious that the +heiress of the Melroses should "make good" with his +associate workers as if she had been still a little clerk +from Biretta's Bookshop!</p> + +<p>But cheerfully indifferent as he was to everything +that made life worth living to such a man as Christopher +Liggett, she knew that he would not go to California +without her unless there was a definite break between +them. She knew she could not persuade him to leave +her here, as a normal and pleasant solution, just until +everything was settled, and until they could see a little +further ahead. No, Wolf was annoyingly conventional +where his wife was concerned: her place was with him, +unless for some secondary reason they had decided to +part. And she knew that if he let her go it would be +because he felt that he never should have claimed her—that, +in the highest sense, he never had had her at all.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Moving</span> automatically through the solemn scenes of +the next two days, that, mused Norma, must be the +solution. Wolf must go alone to California. Not because +she did not love him—who could help loving +him indeed?—but because she loved Chris more—or +differently, at least, and she belonged to Chris's world +now, by every right of birth, wealth, and position.</p> + +<p>"Of course you must stay here," Chris said, positively, +on the one occasion when they spoke of her plans. "In +the first place, there is the estate to settle, we shall need +you. Then there are books—pictures—all that sort +of thing to manage, the old servants to dispose of, +and probably this house to sell—but we can discuss +that. Judge Lee has felt for a long time that this is +the right site for a big apartment house, especially if +we can get hold of Boyer's plot. You had better +take a suite at one of the hotels, and later we can look +up the right sort of an apartment for you."</p> + +<p>Not a word of his personal hopes; missing them she +felt oddly cheated.</p> + +<p>"Wolf goes to California next month," she said. +Christopher gave her a sharp, quizzing look.</p> + +<p>"But I think you had decided, weeks ago, that you +were not going?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I've told him so!" she faltered. She felt +strangely lost and forlorn, releasing her hold on Wolf, +and yet not able to claim Christopher's support. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +was contemptible—it was weak in her, she felt, but +she could not quite choke down her hunger for one +reassuring word from Chris. "I feel so—lonely, +Chris," she said.</p> + +<p>He gave a quick, uneasy glance about the breakfast-room, +where they were having a hasty three-o'clock +luncheon. No one was within hearing.</p> + +<p>"You understand my position now," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course!" But she felt oddly chilled. Chris +as the bereaved husband and son-in-law was perfect, +of course, almost too perfect. If Wolf loved a +woman——</p> + +<p>But then the fancy of Wolf, married, and confessedly +loving a woman who was another man's wife, was absurd, +anyway. Wolf did not belong to the world +where such things were common, it was utterly foreign +to his nature, with all the rest. Wolf did not go to +operas and picture galleries and polo matches; he +did not know how to comport himself at afternoon +teas or summer lunches at the country club.</p> + +<p>And Norma's life would be spent in this atmosphere +now. She would get her frocks from Madame Modiste, +and her hats from the Avenue specialists; she would be +a smart and a conspicuous little figure at Lenox and +Bar Harbour and Newport; she would spend her days +with masseuses and dressmakers, and with French +and Italian teachers. She could travel, some day—but +here the thought of Chris crept in, and she was a +little hurt at Chris. His exquisite poise, his sureness +of being absolutely correct, was one of his charms. But +it was a little hard not to have the depth of his present +feeling for her sweep him off his feet just occasionally. +He had, indeed, shown her far more daring favour when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +Alice was alive—meeting Norma down town, driving +her about, walking with her where they might reasonably +fear to be seen now and then.</p> + +<p>It came to her painfully that, even there, Chris's +respect for the conventions of his world was not at +fault. Flirtations, "crushes," "cases," and "suitors" +were entirely acceptable in the circle that Chris so +conspicuously ornamented. To pay desperate attentions +to a pretty young married woman was quite +excusable; it would have been universally understood.</p> + +<p>But to show the faintest trace of interest in her while +his wife lay dead, and while his house was plunged into +mourning, no—Chris would not do that. That would +not be good form, it would be censured as not being +compatible with the standard of a gentleman. His +conduct now must be beyond criticism, he was the +domestic dictator in this, as in every emergency. +Norma listened while he and Hendrick and Annie +discussed the funeral.</p> + +<p>They were in the big upstairs bedroom that Annie +had appropriated to herself during these days. Annie +was resting on a couch in a nest of little pillows, her +long bare hands very white against the blackness of +her gown. Hendrick did most of the talking, Chris +listening thoughtfully, accepting, rejecting, Norma a +mere spectator. She decided that Annie was playing +her part with a stimulating consciousness of its dignity, +and that Chris was not much better. Honest, red-faced +Hendrick was only genuinely anxious to arrange +these details without a scene.</p> + +<p>"I take Annie up the aisle," Chris said, "you'll +be a pall-bearer, Hendrick. Mrs. Lee says that the +Judge feels he is too old to serve, so he will follow me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +with Leslie. She gets here this afternoon. Then +Acton brings Norma, and that fills the family pew. +Now, in the next pew——"</p> + +<p>It reminded Norma of something, she could not for a +moment remember what. Then it came to her. Of +course!—Leslie's wedding. They had discussed precedence +and pews just that way. Music, too. Hendrick +was making a note of music—Alice's favourite +dirge was to be played, and "Come Ye Disconsolate" +which had been sung at Theodore's funeral, thirteen +years ago, and at his father's, seven years before that, +was to be sung by the famous church choir.</p> + +<p>The church was unfortunately small, so cards were +to be given to the few hundreds that it would accommodate. +Hendrick suggested a larger church, but Annie +shut her eyes, leaning back, and faintly shaking her +head.</p> + +<p>"Please—Hendrick—<i>please</i>!" she articulated, wearily. +"Mama loved that church—and there's so little that we +can do now—so little that she ever wanted, dear old +saint!"</p> + +<p>It was not hypocrisy, Norma thought. Annie had +been a good daughter. Indeed she had been unusually +loyal, as the daughters of Annie's set saw their filial +duties. But something in this overwhelming, becoming +grief, combined with so lively a sense of what was +socially correct, jarred unpleasantly on the younger +woman. Of course, funerals had to have management, +like everything else. And it was only part of Annie's +code to believe that an awkwardness now, a social error +ever so faint, an opportunity given the world for amusement +or criticism, would reflect upon the family and +upon the dead.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +Norma carried on long mental conversations with +Wolf, criticizing or defending the Melroses. She +imagined herself telling him of the shock it had given her +to realize that her grandmother's body was barely cold +before an autocratic and noisy French hairdresser had +arrived, demanding electric heat and hand-glasses as +casually as if his customer had been the bustling, vain +old lady of a week ago. She laughed secretly whenever +she recalled the solemn undertaker who had solicited her +own aid in filling out a blank. His first melancholy +question, "And thud dame of the father——" Norma +had momentarily supposed to be the beginning of a +prayer, and it had been with an almost hysterical revulsion +of feeling that she had said: "Oh, her father's +name? Oh, Francis Dabney Murison."</p> + +<p>Wolf, who would not laugh at one tenth of the things +that amused Chris, or that Annie found richly funny, +would laugh at these little glimpses of a formal funeral, +Norma knew, and he would remember other odd bits of +reading that were in the same key—from Macaulay, or +Henry George, or a scrap of newspaper that had chanced +to be pasted upon an engine-house wall.</p> + +<p>Leslie came into the house late on the afternoon of +Friday, and there was much fresh crying between her +and Annie. Leslie had on new black, too, "just what +I could grab down there," she explained—and was pettish +and weary with fatigue and the nervous shock. +She gave only the side of her cheek to Acton's dutiful +kiss, and answered his question about the baby with an +impatient, "Oh, heavens, she's all <i>right</i>! What could +be the matter with her? She did have a cold, but now +she's all right—and when I'm half-crazy about Grandma +and poor Aunt Alice, I do <i>wish</i> you wouldn't take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +me up so quickly. I've been travelling all night, and +my head is splitting! If it was <i>I</i> that had the cold, I +don't believe you'd be so fussy!"</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl, it's hard for you not to have seen +them once more," Christopher said, tenderly, failing to +meet the half-amused and half-indignant glance that +Norma sent him. Leslie burst into self-pitying tears, +and held tight to his hand, as they all sat down in +Annie's room.</p> + +<p>"I believe I feel it most for you, Uncle Chris," she +sobbed.</p> + +<p>"It changes my life—ends it as surely as it did hers," +Chris said, quietly. "Just now—well, I don't see ahead—just +now. After awhile I believe she'll come back to +me—her sweetness and goodness and bigness—for Alice +was the biggest woman, and the finest, that I ever knew; +and then I'll try to live again—just as she would have +had me. And meanwhile, I try to comfort myself that +I tried to show her, in whatever clumsy way I could, +that I appreciated her!"</p> + +<p>"You not only showed her, you showed all the world, +Chris," Annie said, stretching a hand toward him. +Norma felt a sudden uprising of some emotion singularly +akin to contempt.</p> + +<p>A maid signalled her, and she stepped to the dressing-room +door. A special delivery letter had come from +Wolf. The maid went away again, but Norma stood +where she was, reading it. Wolf had written:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Norma,</span></p> + +<p>Mother wrote me of all that you have been going through, and I +am as sorry as I can be for all their trouble, and glad that they +have you to help them through. Mother also told me of the change +in your position there; I had always known vaguely that we didn't +understand it all. I remember now your coming to us in Brooklyn, +and your mother crying when she went away. I know this will +make a difference to you, and be one more reason for your not coming +West with me. You must use your own judgment, but the +longer I think of it, the meaner it seems to me for me to take advantage +of your coming to me, last spring, and our getting married. +I've thought about it a great deal. Nothing will ever make me like, +or respect, the man you say you care for. I don't believe you do +care for him. And I would rather see you dead than married to him. +But it isn't for me to say, of course. If you like him, that's enough. +If you ever stop liking him, and will come back to me, I'll meet you +anywhere, or take you anywhere—it won't make any difference +what Mother thinks, or Rose thinks, or any one else. I've written +and destroyed this letter about six times. I just want you to know +that if you think I am standing in the way of your happiness, I won't +stand there, even though I believe you are making an awful mistake +about that particular man. And I want to thank you for the happiest +eight months that any man ever had.</p> + +<p>Yours always,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wolf</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Norma stood perfectly still, after she read the letter +through, with the clutch of vague pain and shame at +her heart. The stiff, stilted words did not seem like +Wolf, and the definite casting-off hurt her. Why +couldn't they be friends, at least? Granted that their +marriage was a mistake, it had never had anything but +harmony in it, companionship, mutual respect and understanding, +and a happy intimacy as clean and natural +as the meeting of flowers.</p> + +<p>She was standing, motionless and silent, when Leslie's +voice came clearly to her ears. Evidently Acton, +Annie, and Leslie were alone, in Annie's room, out of +sight, but not a dozen feet away from where she stood. +Norma did not catch the exact words, but she caught +her name, and her heart stood still with the instinctive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +terror of the trapped. Annie had not heard either evidently; +she said "What, dear?" sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"I asked what's Norma doing here—isn't she overdoing +her relationship a little?" Leslie said, languidly.</p> + +<p>Norma's face burned, she could hardly breathe as she +waited.</p> + +<p>"Mama sent for her, for some reason," Annie answered, +with a little drawl.</p> + +<p>"After all, she's a sort of cousin, isn't she?" Acton +added.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't jump on me for <i>everything</i> I say, Acton," +Leslie said, angrily. "My <i>goodness</i>——!"</p> + +<p>"Chris says that Mama left her the Melrose Building—and +I don't know what besides!" Annie said. There +was a moment of silence.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it! What for!" Leslie exclaimed, +then, incredulously. And after another silence she +added, in a puzzled tone, "Do <i>you</i> understand it, Aunt +Annie?"</p> + +<p>Evidently Annie answered with a glance or a shrug, +for there was another pause before Annie said:</p> + +<p>"What I don't like about it, and what I do wish +Mama had thought of, is the way that people comment +on a thing like that. It's not as if Norma needed it; +she has a husband to take care of her, now, and it makes +us a little ridiculous! One likes to feel that, at a time +like this, everything is to be done decently, at least—not +enormous legacies to comparative strangers——"</p> + +<p>"I like Norma, we've all been kind to her," Leslie +contributed, as Annie's voice died listlessly away. "I've +always made allowances for her. But I confess that +it was rather a surprise to find her here, one of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>family——! After all, we Melroses have always rather +prided ourselves on standing together, haven't we? If +she wants to wear black for Grandma, why, it makes no +difference to <i>me</i>——"</p> + +<p>"I suppose the will could be broken without any +notoriety, Chris?" Annie asked, in an undertone. +Norma's heart turned sick. She had not supposed that +Chris was listening without protest to this conversation.</p> + +<p>"No," she heard him say, briefly and definitely, +"that's impossible!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't the money——" Annie began. But Leslie +interrupted with a bitter little laugh.</p> + +<p>"It may not be with you, Aunt Annie, but I assure +you I wouldn't mind a few extra thousands," she said.</p> + +<p>"I think you get the Newport house, Leslie," Chris +said, in a tone whose dubiety only Norma could understand.</p> + +<p>"The Newport house!" Leslie exclaimed. "Why, +but don't I own <i>this</i>, now? I thought——"</p> + +<p>"I don't really know," Chris answered. "We'll open +the will next week, and then we'll straighten everything +out."</p> + +<p>"In the meanwhile," Annie said, lazily, "if she suggests +going back to her own family, for Heaven's sake +don't stop her! I like Norma—always have. But +after all, there are times when <i>any</i> outsider—no matter +how agreeable she is——"</p> + +<p>"I think she'll go immediately after the funeral," +Chris said, constrainedly and uncertainly.</p> + +<p>Norma, suddenly roused both to a realization of the +utter impropriety of her overhearing all this, and the +danger of detection, slipped from the dressing-room by +the hall door, and so escaped to her own room.</p> + +<p>She shut the door behind her, walked irresolutely to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +the bed, stood there for a moment, with her hands +pressed to her cheeks, walked blindly to the window, +only to pause again, paced the room mechanically for a +few minutes, and finally found herself seated on the +broad, old-fashioned sill of the dressing-room window, +staring down unseeing at the afternoon traffic in Madison +Avenue.</p> + +<p>Oh, how she hated them—cruel, selfish, self-satisfied +snobs—snobs—snobs that they were! Leslie—Leslie +"making allowances for her!" Leslie making allowances +for <i>her</i>! And Annie—hoping that for Heaven's +sake nobody would prevent her from going home after +the funeral! The remembered phrases burned and +stung like acid upon her soul; she wanted to hurt Annie +and Leslie as they had hurt her, she wanted to shame +them and anger them.</p> + +<p>Yes, and she could do it, too! She could do it! They +little knew that within a few days' time utter consternation +and upheaval, notoriety and shame, and the pity of +their intimates, would disrupt the surface of their lives, +that surface that they felt it so important to keep +smooth! "People will comment," Norma quoted to +herself, with a bitter smile—indeed people would comment, +as they had never commented even upon the +Melroses before! Leslie would be robbed not only of +her inheritance but of her name and of her position. +And Annie—even magnificent Aunt Annie must accept, +with what surface veneer of cordiality she might affect, +the only child of her only brother, the heir to the family +estate.</p> + +<p>"I believe I'm horribly tired," Norma said to herself, +looking out into the dimming winter day, "or else I'm +nervous, or something! I wish I could go over to Rose's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +and help her put the children to bed——! Or I wish +Aunt Kate would telephone for me—I'm sick of this +place! Or I wish Wolf would come walking around that +corner—oh, if he would—if he would——!" Norma +said, staring out with an intensity so great that it seemed +to her for the moment that Wolf indeed might come. +"If only he'd come to take me to dinner, at some little +Italian place with a backyard, and skyscrapers all +about, so that we could talk!"</p> + +<p>Regina, coming in a little later, saw that Mrs. Sheridan +had been crying, and reproached her with the affectionate +familiarity of an old servitor.</p> + +<p>"You that were always so light-hearted, Miss, it +don't seem right for you to grieve so!" said Regina, a +little tearful herself. Norma smiled, and wiped her +eyes.</p> + +<p>"This is a nice beginning," the girl told herself, as she +bathed and dressed for the evening ordeal of calls, and +messages, and solemn visits to the chamber of death, +"this is a nice beginning for a woman who knows that +the man she loves is free to marry her, and who has just +fallen heir to a great fortune!"</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">The</span> evening moved through its dark and sombre +hours unchanged; Joseph's assistants opened and opened +and opened the door. More flowers—more flowers—and +more. Notes, telephone messages, black-clad callers +murmuring in the dimness of the lower hall, maids coming +noiselessly and deferentially, the clergyman, the +doctor, the choir-master, old Judge Lee tremulous and +tedious, all her world circled about the lifeless form of +the old mistress of the house. Certain persons went +quietly upstairs, women in rich furs, and bare-headed, +uncomfortable-looking men, entered the front room, and +passed through with serious faces and slowly shaking +heads.</p> + +<p>Chris spoke to Norma in the hall, just after she had +said good-night to some rather important callers, assuring +them that Annie and Leslie were well, and had been +kissed herself as their representative. He extended her +a crushed document in which she was alarmed to recognize +Wolf's letter.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I think I dropped that in Aunt Annie's dressing-room!" +Norma said, turning scarlet, and wondering +what eyes had seen it.</p> + +<p>"There was no envelope; a maid brought it to her, +and Annie read it," Chris said. Norma's eyes were +racing through it.</p> + +<p>"There are no names!" she said, thankfully.</p> + +<p>"It would have been a most unfortunate—a—a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +horrible thing, if there had been," Chris commented. +Something in his manner said as plainly as words that +dropping the letter had been a breach of good manners, +had been extremely careless, almost reprehensible. +Norma felt herself unreasonably antagonized.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know! It's true," she said, recklessly.</p> + +<p>"Annie is a very important person in your plans, +Norma," Chris reminded her. "It would be most regrettable +for you to lose your head now, to give everyone +an opportunity of criticizing you. I should advise you +to enlist your Aunt Annie's sympathies just as soon as +you can. She is, of all the world, the one woman who +can direct you—help you equip yourself—tell you what +to get, and how to establish yourself. If Annie chose +to be unfriendly, to ignore you——"</p> + +<p>"I don't see Annie von Behrens ignoring me—now!" +Norma said, with anger, and throwing her head back +proudly. They were in a curtained alcove on the landing +of the angled stairway, completely hidden by the +great curtain and by potted palms. "When my revered +aunt realizes——"</p> + +<p>"Your money will have absolutely no effect on +Annie," Chris said, quickly.</p> + +<p>"No, but what I <i>am</i> will!" Norma answered, breathing +hard.</p> + +<p>"Not while we keep it to ourselves, as of course we +must," Chris answered, in displeasure. "No one but +ourselves will ever know——"</p> + +<p>"The whole world will know!" Norma said, in sudden +impatience with smoothing and hiding and pretending. +Chris straightened his eyeglasses on their ribbon, and +gave her his scrutinizing, unruffled glance.</p> + +<p>"That would be foolish, I think, Norma!" he told her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +calmly. "It would be a most unnecessary piece of vulgarity. +Old families are constantly hushing up unfortunate +chapters in their history; there is no reason why +the whole thing should not be kept an absolute secret. +My dear girl, you have just had a most extraordinary +piece of good fortune—but you must be very careful +how you take it! You will be—you are—a tremendously +wealthy woman—and you will be in the public +eye. Upon how you conduct yourself now your future +position largely depends. Annie can—and I believe +will—gladly assist you. Acton and Leslie will go abroad, +I suppose—they can't live here. But a breath of scandal—or +an ill-advised slip on your part—would make +us all ridiculous. You must play your cards carefully. +If you could stay with Annie, now——"</p> + +<p>"I <i>hate</i> Aunt Annie!" Norma interrupted, childishly.</p> + +<p>"My dear girl—you're over-tired, you don't mean +what you say!" Chris said, putting his hand on her arm. +Under the light touch she dropped her eyes, and stood +still. "Norma, do be advised by me in this," he urged +her earnestly. "It is one of the most important crises +in your life. Annie can put you exactly where you want +to be, introduced and accepted everywhere—a constant +guest in her house, in her opera box, or Annie can drop +you—I've seen her do it!—and it would take you ten +years to make up the lost ground!"</p> + +<p>"It didn't take Annie ten years to be a—a—social +leader!" Norma argued, resentfully.</p> + +<p>"Annie? Ah, my dear, a woman like Annie isn't +born twice in a hundred years! She has—but you +know what she has, Norma. Languages, experiences, +friends—most of all she has the grand manner—the +<i>belle aire</i>."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +Norma was fighting to regain her composure over +almost unbearable hurt and chagrin.</p> + +<p>"But, Chris," she argued, desperately, "you've always +said that you had no particular use for Annie's crowd—that +you'd rather live in some little Italian place—or +travel slowly through India——"</p> + +<p>"I said I would like to do that, and so I would!" he +answered. "But believe me, Norma, your money +makes a very different sort of thing possible now, and +you would be mad—you would be <i>mad</i>!—to throw it +away. Put yourself in Annie's hands," he finished, with +the first hint of his old manner that she had seen for +forty-eight hours, "and have your car, your maids, your +little establishment on the upper East Side, and then—then"—and +now his arm was about her, and he had +tipped up her face close to his own—"and then you and +I will break our little surprise to them!" he said, kindly. +"Only be careful, Norma. Don't let them say that you +did anything ostentatious or conspicuous——"</p> + +<p>She freed herself, her heart cold and desolate almost +beyond bearing, and Chris answered her as if she had +spoken.</p> + +<p>"Yes—and I must go, too! To-morrow will be a +terrible day for us all. Oh, one thing more, Norma! +Annie asked me if I had any idea of who the man was—the +man Wolf speaks of there in that note—and I had +to say someone, just to quiet her. So I said that I +thought it was Roy Gillespie—you don't mind?—I +knew he liked you tremendously, and I happened to +think of him! Is that all right?"</p> + +<p>She made no audible answer, almost immediately +leaving him, and going upstairs. There was nothing to +do, in her room, and she knew that she could really be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +of use downstairs, among the intimate old friends who +were protecting Annie and Leslie from annoyance, but +she felt in no mood for that. She hated herself and +everybody; she was half-mad with fatigue and despondency.</p> + +<p>Oh, what was the use of living—what was the use of +living! Chris despised her; that was quite plain. He +had advised her to-night as he would have advised an +ignorant servant—an inexperienced commoner who +might make the family ridiculous—who might lose her +head, and descend to "unnecessary pieces of vulgarity!" +Leslie had always "made allowances for Norma"; +Annie considered her an "outsider." Wolf was going +to California without her, and even Aunt Kate—even +Aunt Kate had scolded her, reminded her that the Melroses +had always been kind to her!</p> + +<p>Norma's tears flowed fast, there seemed to be no end +to the flood. She sopped them away with the black-bordered +handkerchief, and tried walking about, and +drinking cold water, but it was of no use. Her heart +seemed broken, there was no avenue for her thoughts +that did not lead to loneliness and grief. They had all +pretended to love her—but not one of them did—not +one of them did! She had never had a father, and +never had a mother, she had never had a fair chance!</p> + +<p>Money—she thought darkly. But what was the use +of money if everyone hated her, if everyone thought +she was selfish and stupid and ignorant and superfluous! +Why find a beautiful apartment, and buy beautiful +clothes, if she must flatter and cajole her way into +Annie's favour to enjoy them, and bear Chris's superior +disdain for her stumbling literary criticisms and her +amateurish Italian?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +And she was furious at Chris. How dared he—how +dared he insult her by coupling her name with that of +Roy Gillespie, to quiet Annie and to protect himself! +She was a married woman; she had never given him +any reason to take such liberties with her dignity! +Roy Gillespie, indeed! Annie was to amuse herself +by fancying Norma secretly enamoured of that big, +stupid, simple Gillespie boy, who was twenty-two years +old, and hardly out of college! And it was for him +that Norma was presumably leaving her husband!</p> + +<p>It was insufferable. It was insufferable. She would +go straight to Annie—but no, she couldn't do that. +She couldn't tell Annie, on the night before Annie's +sister was buried, that that same sister's husband +loved and was beloved by another woman.</p> + +<p>"Still, it's true," Norma mused, darkly. "Only we +seem unable to speak the truth in this house! Well, +I'm stifling here——"</p> + +<p>She had been leaning out of the open window, the +night was soft and warm. Norma looked at her wrist watch; +it was nine o'clock. A sudden mad impulse +took her: she would go over to Jersey, and see Rose. +It was not so very late, the babies kept Rose and +Harry up until almost eleven. She thirsted suddenly +for Rose, for Rose's beautiful, pure little face, her puzzled, +earnest blue eyes under black eyebrows, her pleasant, +unready words that were always so true and so +kind.</p> + +<p>Rapidly Norma buttoned the new black coat, dropped +the filmy veil, fled down the back stairway, and +through a bright, hot pantry, where maids were laughing +and eating gaily. She explained to their horrified +silence that she was slipping out for a breath of air,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +went through doorways and gratings, and found herself +in the blessed coolness and darkness of the side street.</p> + +<p>Ah—this was delicious! She belonged here, flying +along inconspicuous and unmolested in light and +darkness, just one of the hurrying and indifferent millions. +The shop windows, the subways, the very +gum-machines and the chestnut ovens with their +blowing lamps looked friendly to Norma to-night; she +loved every detail of blowing newspapers and yawning +fellow-passengers, in the hot, bright tube.</p> + +<p>On the other side she was hurrying off the train +with the plunging crowd when her heart jumped wildly +at the sight of a familiar shabby overcoat some fifty +feet ahead of her, topped by the slightly tipped slouch +hat that Wolf always wore. Friday night! her thoughts +flashed joyously, and he was coming to New Jersey +to see his mother and Rose! Of all fortunate accidents—the +one person in the world she wanted to see—and +must see now!</p> + +<p>Norma fled after the coat, dodging and slipping +through every opening, and keeping the rapidly moving +slouch hat before her. She was quite out of breath +when she came abreast of the man, and saw, with a +sickening revulsion, that it was not Wolf.</p> + +<p>What the man thought Norma never knew or cared. +The surprising blankness of the disappointment made +her almost dizzy; she turned aside blindly, and stumbled +into the quiet backwater behind a stairway, where +she could recover her self-possession and endure unobserved +the first pangs of bitterness. It seemed +to her that she would die if she could not see Wolf, +if she had to endure another minute of loneliness and +darkness and aimless wandering through the night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +Rose's house was only three well-lighted blocks from +the station; Norma almost ran them. Other houses, +she noted, were still brightly lighted at quarter to +eleven o'clock, and Rose's might be. Aunt Kate was +there, and she and Rose might well be sitting up, with +the restless smaller baby, or to finish some bit of sewing.</p> + +<p>It was a double house, and the windows that matched +Rose's bedroom and dining-room were lighted in +the wrong half. But all Rose's side was black and +dark and silent.</p> + +<p>Norma, for the first time in her life, needed courage +for the knocking and ringing and explaining. If +they would surely be kind to her, she might chance it, +she thought. But if Aunt Kate was angry with her +vacillations in regard to Wolf, and if Rose had also +taken Wolf's side, then she knew that she, Norma, +would begin to cry, and disgrace herself, and have +good-natured simple old Harry poking about and +wondering what was the matter——</p> + +<p>No, she didn't dare risk it. So she waited in the +little garden, looking up at the windows, praying that +little Harry would wake up, or that the baby's little +acid wail would drift through the open window, and +then the dim light bloom suddenly, and show a silhouette +of Rose, tall and sweet in her wrapper, with a +great rope of braid falling over one shoulder.</p> + +<p>But moments went by, and there was no sound. +Norma went to the street lamp a hundred feet away +and looked at her wrist watch. Quarter past eleven; +it was useless to wait any longer; it had been a senseless +quest from the beginning.</p> + +<p>She went back to the city by train and boat, crying +desolately in the darkness above the ploughing of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +invisible waters. She cried with pity for herself, for it +seemed to her that life was very unfair to her.</p> + +<p>"Is it <i>my</i> fault that I inherit all that money?" she +asked the dark night angrily. "Is it my fault that I +love Chris Liggett? Isn't it better to be honest about +it than live with a man I don't love? Isn't that the +worst thing that woman can endure—a loveless marriage?</p> + +<p>"But that's just the High School Debating Society!" +she interrupted herself, suddenly, using a phrase that +she and Wolf had coined long ago for glib argument +that is untouched by actual knowledge of life. "Loveless +marriage—and wife in name only! I wonder if I +am getting to be one of the women who throw those +terms about as an excuse for just sheer selfishness and +stupidity!"</p> + +<p>And her aunt's phrases came back to her, making +her wonder unhappily just where the trouble lay, just +what sort of a woman she was.</p> + +<p>"I think you will be whatever you want to be, +Norma," Mrs. Sheridan had said, "you're a woman +now—you're Wolf's wife——"</p> + +<p>But that was just what she did not feel herself, a +woman and Wolf's wife. She was a girl—interested +in shaggy sport coats and lace stockings; she did not +want to be any one's wife! She wanted to punish +Leslie and Aunt Annie, and to have plenty of money, +and to have a wonderful little apartment on the east +side of the Park, and delicious clothes; she wanted to +become a well-known figure in New York society, +at Palm Beach and the summer resorts, and at the +opera and the big dining-rooms of the hotels.</p> + +<p>"And I could do it, too!" Norma thought, walking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +through the cool, dark night restlessly. "In two +years—in three or four, anyway, I would be where Aunt +Annie is; or at least I would if Chris and I were married—he +could do anything! I suppose," she added, with +youthful recklessness, "I suppose there are lots of +old fogies who would never understand my getting +separated from Wolf, but it isn't as if <i>he</i> didn't understand, +for I know he does! Wolf has always known that +it took just <i>certain things</i> to make me happy!"</p> + +<p>Something petty, and contemptible, and unworthy, +in this last argument smote her ears unpleasantly, and +she was conscious of flushing in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Well, people have to be happy, don't they?" she +reasoned, with a rising inflection at the end of the +phrase that surprised and a trifle disquieted her. +"Don't they?" she asked herself, thoughtfully, as she +crept in at the side door of the magnificent, cumbersome +old house that was her own now. No one but an +amazed-looking maid saw her, as she regained her +room, and fifteen minutes later she was circulating +about the dim and mournful upper floor again. Annie +called her into her room.</p> + +<p>"You look fearfully tired, Norma! Do get some +sleep," her aunt said, with unusual kindness. "I'm +going to try to, although my head is aching terribly, +and I know I can't. To-morrow will be hard on us all. +I shall go home to-morrow night, and I'm trying to +persuade Leslie to come with me."</p> + +<p>"No, I shan't! I'm going to stay here," Leslie said, +with a sort of weary pettishness. "My house is +closed, and poor Chris is going to begin closing Aunt +Alice's house, and he doesn't want to go to a club—he'd +much rather be here, wouldn't he, Norma?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +Something in the tired way that both aunt and niece +appealed to her touched Norma, and she answered +sympathetically:</p> + +<p>"Truly, I think he would, Aunt Annie. And if little +Patricia and the nurse get here on Sunday, she won't +be lonely."</p> + +<p>"Norma, why don't you stay here, too—your husband's +in Philadelphia," Leslie asked her. "Do! We +shall have so much to do——"</p> + +<p>"We haven't seen the will, but I believe Judge Lee is +going to bring it on Wednesday," Annie said, "and +Chris said that Mama left you—well, I don't know +what! I wish you could arrange to stay the rest of +the week, at least!"</p> + +<p>"I will!" Norma agreed. She had been feeling neglected +and lonely, and this unexpected friendliness +was heartwarming.</p> + +<p>"You've been a real comfort," Annie said, good-naturedly. +"You're such a sensible child, Norma. +I hope one of these days—afterward"—and Annie +faintly indicated with her eyebrows the direction of +the front room from which the funeral procession +would start to-morrow—"afterward, that you'll let us +know your husband better. And now it's long past +midnight, girls, and you ought to be in bed!"</p> + +<p>It was mere casual civility on Annie's part, as accidental +as had been her casual unkindness a few hours +before. But it lifted Norma's heart, and she went +out into the hall in a softer frame of mind than she +had known for a long time. She managed another +word with Chris before going to her room for almost +nine hours of reviving and restoring sleep.</p> + +<p>"Chris, I feel terribly about breaking this news to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +Aunt Annie and Leslie while they feel so badly about +Aunt Alice and Aunt Marianna!" she said. Again +Chris gave the hallway, where she had met him, a +quick, uneasy scrutiny before he answered her:</p> + +<p>"Well, of course! But it can't be helped."</p> + +<p>"But do you think that we could put it off until +Wednesday, Chris, when the will is to be read? Everyone +will be here then, and it would seem a good time +to do it!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he consented, after a moment's thought, "I +think that is a good idea!" And so they left it.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Regina</span> roused Norma just in time for the long, +wearisome ceremonials of the following day, a cold, +bright gusty day, when the wet streets flashed back +sombre reflections of the motor wheels, and the newly +turned earth oozed flashing drops of water. The +cortège left the old Melrose house at ten minutes before +ten o'clock, and it was four before the tired, headachy, +cramped members of the immediate family group regathered +there, to discard the crape-smothered hats, +and the odorous, sombre furs, and to talk quietly together +as they sipped hot soup and crumbled rolls. +Everything had been changed, the flowers were gone, +furniture was back in place, and the upper front room +had been opened widely to the suddenly spring-like +afternoon. There was not a fallen violet petal to remind +her descendants that the old mistress of forty +full years was gone for ever.</p> + +<p>Annie's boys came to bring Mother home, after so +many strange days' absence, and Norma liked the way +that Annie smiled wearily at Hendrick, and pressed +her white face hungrily against the boys' blonde, firm +little faces. Leslie, in an unwontedly tender mood, +drew Acton's arm about her, as she sat in a big chair, +and told him with watering eyes that she would be glad +to see old Patsie-baby on Sunday. Norma sat alone, +the carved Tudor oak rising high above her little tired +head with its crushed soft hair, and Chris sat alone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +too, at the other end of the table, and somehow, in +the soul fatigue that was worse than any bodily fatigue, +she did not want the distance between them bridged, +she did not want—she shuddered away from the word—love-making +from Chris again!</p> + +<p>Leslie, who felt quite ill with strain and sorrow, went +upstairs to bed, the Von Behrens went away, and presently +Acton disappeared, to telephone old Doctor +Murray that his wife would like a sedative—or a +heart stimulant, or some other little attention as a +recognition of her broken state.</p> + +<p>Then Chris and Norma were alone, and with a quiet +dignity that surprised him she beckoned him to the +chair next to her, and, leaning both elbows on the cloth, +fixed him with her beautiful, tired eyes.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you, Chris, and this seems to be +the time!" she said. "You'll be deep in all sorts of +horrible things for weeks now, poor old Chris, and +I want this said first! I've been thinking very seriously +all these days—they seem months—since Aunt Marianna +died, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm—well, +I'm a fool!"</p> + +<p>She said the last word so unexpectedly, with such +obvious surprise, that Chris's tired, colourless face +broke into something like a smile. He had seated +himself next to her, and was evidently bending upon +her problem his most earnest attention.</p> + +<p>"Some months ago," Norma said in a low voice, "I +thought—I <i>thought</i>—that I fell in love! The man was +rich, and handsome, and clever, and he knew more—of +certain things!—in his little finger, than I shall ever +know in my whole life. Not exactly more French, +or more of politics, or more persons—I don't mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +quite that. But I mean a conglomerate sort of—I'm +expressing myself badly, but you understand—a conglomerate +total of all these things that make him an +aristocrat! That's what he is, an aristocrat. Now, +I'm not! I've found that out. I'm different."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Chris said, lightly, but listening patiently +none the less.</p> + +<p>"I know," Norma resumed, hammering her thought +out slowly, and frowning down at the teaspoon that +she was measuring between her finger-tips, "I know +that there are two women in me. One is the Melrose, +who <i>could</i>—for I know I could!—push her husband out +of sight, take up the whole business of doing things +correctly, from hair-dressing and writing notes of +condolence to being"—she could manage a hint of a +smile under swiftly raised lashes—"being presented +at Saint James's!" she said. "In five years she would +be an admired and correct and popular woman, and +perhaps even married to this man I speak of! The +other woman is my little plain French mother's sort—who +was a servant—my Aunt Kate's kind," and Norma +suddenly felt the tears in her eyes, and winked them +away with an April smile, "who belongs to her husband, +who likes to cook and tramp about in the woods, and +send Christmas boxes to Rose's babies, and—and go to +movies, and picnics! And that's the sort of woman +I <i>am</i>, Chris," Norma ended, with a sudden firmness, +and even a certain relief in her voice. "I've just discovered +it! I've been spoiled all my life—I've been +loved too much, I think, but I've thought it all out—it +really came to me, as I stood beside Aunt Marianna's +grave to-day, and you don't know how happy it's made +me!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +"You are talking very recklessly, Norma," Chris +said, as she paused, in his quiet, definite voice. "You +are over-excited now. There is no such difference in +the two—the two classes, to call them that, as you +fancy! The richer people, the people who, as you +say, do things correctly, and are presented at Saint +James's, have all the simple pleasures, too. One likes +moving pictures now and then; I'm sure we often +have picnics in the summer. But there are women in +New York—hundreds of them, who would give the +last twenty years of their lives to step into exactly +what you can take for the asking now. You will have +Annie and me back of you—this isn't the time, Norma, +for me to say just how entirely you will have my championship! +But surely you know——"</p> + +<p>He was just what he had always been: self-possessed, +finished, splendidly sure in voice and manner. He was +rich, he was popular, he was a dictator in his quiet way. +And she knew even if the shock of his wife's sudden +going had pushed his thought of her into the background, +that in a few months he would be hovering +about her again, conventionally freed for conventional +devotion.</p> + +<p>She saw all this, and for the first time to-day she saw +other things, too. That he was forty, and looked it. +That there was just the faintest suggestion of thinning +in his smooth hair, where Wolf's magnificent mane was +the thickest. That it was just a little bloodless, this +decorous mourning that had so instantly engulfed +him, who had actually told her, another man's wife, a +few weeks before, that his own wife was dying, and so +would free him for the woman he loved at last!</p> + +<p>In short, Norma mused, watching him as he fell into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +moody silence, he had not scrupled to break the spirit +of his bond to Alice, he had not hesitated to tell Norma +that he loved her when only Norma, and possibly +Alice, might suffer from his disloyalty. But when the +sacred letter was touched, the sacred outside of the +vessel that must be kept clean before the world, then +Chris was instantly the impeccable, the irreproachable +man of his caste again. It was all part of the superficial +smallness of that world where arbitrary form ruled, +where to send a wedding invitation printed and not +engraved, or to mispronounce the name of a visiting +Italian tenor or Russian dancer, would mark the +noblest woman in the world as hopelessly "not belonging."</p> + +<p>"One of the things you do that really you oughtn't +to, Norma," he resumed, presently, in quiet distaste, +"is assume that there is some mysterious difference +between, say, the Craigies, and well—your husband. +The Craigies are enormously wealthy, of course. That +means that they have always had fine service, music, +travel, the best of everything in educational ways, +friendship with the best people—and those things <i>are</i> +an advantage, generation after generation. It's absurd +to deny that Annie's children, for example, haven't +any real and tremendous advantages over—well, some +child of a perfectly respectable family that manages +nicely on ten thousand a year. But that Annie's +pleasures are not as real, or that there must necessarily +be something dangerous—something detestable—in +the life of the best people, is ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"That's just what I do assert," she answered, bravely. +"It may not be so for you, for you were born to it! +But when you've lived, as I have, in a different sort<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> +of life, with people to whom meals, and the rent, and +their jobs, really matter—this sort of thing doesn't +seem <i>real</i>. You feel like bursting out laughing and +saying, 'Oh, get out! What's the difference if I <i>don't</i> +make calls, and broaden my vowels, and wear just +this and that, and say just this and that!' It all seems +so <i>tame</i>."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Chris said, really roused. "Take +Betty Doane, now, the Craigies' cousin. There's +nothing conventional about her. There's a girl who +dresses like a man all summer, who ran away from +school and tramped into Hungary dressed as a gipsy, +who slapped Joe Brinckerhoff's face for him last winter, +and who says that when she loves a man she's going +off with him—no matter who he is, or whether he's +married or not, or whether she is!"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what she sounds like to me, Chris, a +little saucy girl of about eight trying to see how +naughty she can be! Why, that," said Norma, eagerly, +"that's not <i>real</i>. That isn't like house-hunting when +you know you can't pay more than thirty dollars' rent, +or surprising your husband with a new thermos +bottle that he didn't think he could afford!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, if you <i>like</i> slums, of course!" Chris said, +coldly. "But nothing can prevent your inheriting an +enormous sum of money, Norma," he said, ending the +conversation, "and in six months you'll feel very +differently!"</p> + +<p>"There is just one chance in ten—one chance in a +hundred—that I might!" she said to herself, going +upstairs, after Chris and Acton, who presently returned +to the dining-room, had begun an undertoned conversation. +And with a sudden flood of radiance and happi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span>ness +at her heart, she sat down at her desk, and wrote +to Wolf.</p> + +<p>The note said:</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Wolf Dear</span>:</p> + +<p>I have been thinking very seriously, during these serious days, +and I am writing you more earnestly than I ever wrote any one +in my life. I want you to forgive me all my foolishness, and let +me come back to you. I have missed you so bitterly, and thought +how good and how sensible you were, and how you took care of us +all years ago, and gave Rose and me skates that Christmas that +you didn't have your bicycle mended, and how we all sat up and +cried the night Aunt Kate was sick, and you made us chocolate +by the rule on the box. I have been very silly, and I thought I +cared—and perhaps I <i>did</i> care—for somebody else; or at least I +cared for what he stood for, but I am over that now, and I feel so +much older, and as if I needed you so. I shall have a tremendous +lot of money, and we'll just have to decide what to do with it, but +I think I know now that there won't be any particular pleasure in +spending it. We'll always love the old car, and——But it just occurs +to me that we <i>could</i> send poor Kitty Barry to the hospital, and perhaps +ship them all off somewhere where they'd get better. Aunt +Kate would like that. But won't you come up, Wolf, and see me? +I'll meet you anywhere, and we can talk, on Monday or Tuesday. +Will you write me or wire me? I can't wait to see you!</p></blockquote> + +<p>She cried over the letter, and over the signature that +she was his loving Nono, but she mailed it with a +dancing heart. The road had been dark and troubled +for awhile, but it was all clear now! The wrong had +been—the whole wretched trouble had been—in her +thinking that she could toss aside the solemn oath +that she had taken on the bewildering day of her marriage +almost a year ago.</p> + +<p>Never since old, old days of childhood, when she +and Wolf and Rose had wiped the dishes and raked the +yard, and walked a mile to the twenty-five-cent seats<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +at the circus, had Norma been so sure of herself, and +so happy. She felt herself promoted, lifted above +the old feelings and the old ways, and dedicated to the +work before her. And one by one the shadows lifted, +and the illusions blew away, and she could see her way +clear for the first time in more than three years. It +was all simple, all right, all just as she would have had +it. She would never be a petted and wealthy little +Leslie, she would never be a leader, like Mrs. von +Behrens, and she would never stand before the world +as the woman chosen by the incomparable Chris. Yet +she was the last Melrose, and she knew now how she +could prove herself the proudest of them all, how she +could do these kinspeople of hers a greater favour +than any they had ever dreamed of doing her. And +in the richness of renouncing Norma knew herself to +be for the first time truly rich.</p> + +<p>Chris saw the difference in her next day, felt the new +dignity, the sudden transition from girl to woman, +but he had no inkling of its cause. Leslie saw it, and +Annie, but Norma gave them no clue. At luncheon +Annie, who had joined them for the meal, proposed +that Leslie and Norma and the Liggetts come to her +for a quiet family dinner, but Norma begged off; she +really must see Aunt Kate, and would seize this opportunity +to go home for a night. But leaving the +table Norma asked Chris if she might talk business to +him for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>They sat in the old library, Chris sunk in a great +leather chair, smoking cigarettes, Norma opposite, +her white hands clasped on the blackness of her simple +gown, and her eyes moving occasionally from their quiet +study of the fire to rest on Chris's face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> +"Chris," she said, "I've thought this all out, now, and +I'm not really asking your advice, I'm telling you what +I am going to do! I'm going to California with Wolf +in a week or two—that's the first thing!"</p> + +<p>He stared at her blankly, and as the minutes of silence +between them lengthened Norma noticed his lips compress +themselves into a thin, colourless line. But +she returned his look bravely, and in her eyes there was +something that told the man she was determined in +her decision.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite follow you, Norma," he said at last +with difficulty. "You mean that all the plans and +hopes we shared and discussed——" He faltered a +moment and then made another effort: "Now that +whatever obstacles there were have been removed, and +you and I are free to fulfill our destinies, am I to understand +that—that you are going back to your husband?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly." The girl's answer was firm and determined.</p> + +<p>The colour fled from Chris's face, and a cold light +came into his eye; his jaw stiffened.</p> + +<p>"You must use your own judgment, Norma," he +answered, with a displeased shrug.</p> + +<p>"I'll leave with you, or send you, my power of +attorney," the girl went on, "and you and Hendrick +as executors must do whatever you think right and +just—just deposit the money in the bank!"</p> + +<p>"I see," Chris said, noncommittally.</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing," Norma went on, with +heightened colour. "I don't want either Leslie or +Aunt Annie ever to know—what you and I know!"</p> + +<p>Chris looked at her, frowning slightly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +"That's impossible, of course," he said. "What are +they going to think?"</p> + +<p>"They'll think nothing," Norma said, confidently, but +with anxious eyes fixed on his face, "because they'll +know nothing. There'll be no change, nothing to make +them suspect anything."</p> + +<p>"But—great God! You don't seem to understand, +Norma. Proofs of your birth, of your rightful heritage, +your identity, the fact that you are Theodore's child, +must be shown them, of course. You have inherited +by Aunt Marianna's will the bulk of her personal fortune, +but besides this, as Theodore's child, you inherit +the Melrose estate, and Leslie must turn this all over +to you, and make such restitution as she is able, of all +income from it which she has received since Judge Lee +and I turned it over to her on her eighteenth birthday."</p> + +<p>"No, that's just what she is <i>not</i> to do! I will get +exactly what is mentioned in the will—as Norma Sheridan, +bonds and the Melrose Building, and so on," +Norma broke in, eagerly. "And that's enough, goodness +knows, and a thousand times more than Wolf and I +ever expected to have. Aunt Annie and Leslie are +reconciled to that. But for the rest, I refuse to accept +it. I don't want it. I've never been so unhappy in +my life as I've been in this house, for all the money and +the good times and the beautiful clothes. And if that +much didn't make me happy, why should ten times +more? Isn't it far, far better—all round——"</p> + +<p>"You are talking absurdities," said Chris. "Do you +think that Hendrick and I could consent to this? Do +you suppose——"</p> + +<p>"Hendrick doesn't know it, Chris. It is only you and +I and Aunt Kate—that's all! And if I do this, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +swear you and Aunt Kate to secrecy, who is responsible, +except me?"</p> + +<p>Chris shook his head. "Aunt Marianna wished you +righted—wished you to take your place as Theodore's +daughter. It is her wish, and it is only our duty——"</p> + +<p>"But think a minute, Chris, think a minute," Norma +said, eagerly, leaning forward in her chair, so that her +locked hands almost touched his knees. "<i>Was</i> it her +wish? She wanted me to <i>know</i>—that's certain! And +I do know. But do you really think she wanted Leslie +to be shamed and crushed, and to take away the money +Leslie has had all her life, to shock Aunt Annie, and stir +that old miserable matter up with Hendrick? Chris, you +<i>can't</i> think that! The one thing she would have wished +and prayed would have been that somehow the matter +would have been righted without hurting any one. +Chris, <i>think</i> before you tear the whole family up by the +roots. What harm is there in this way? I have plenty +of money—and I go away. The others go on just as +they always have, and in a little way—in just a hundredth +part—I pay back dear old Aunt Marianna for all +the worrying and planning she did, to make up to me for +what should have been mine, and was Leslie's. Please—<i>please</i>, +help me to do this, Chris. I can't be happy +any other way. Aunt Kate will approve—you don't +know how much she will approve, and it will repay her, +too, just a little, to feel that it's all known now, and that +it has turned out this way. And she will destroy every +last line and shred of letters and papers, and the photographs +she said she had, and it will all be over—for ever +and for ever!"</p> + +<p>"You put a terrible responsibility upon me," Chris +said, slowly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +"No—I take it myself!" Norma answered. He had +gotten to his feet, and was standing at the hearth, and +now she rose, too, and looked eagerly up at him. "It +isn't anything like the responsibility of facing the world +with the whole horrible story!"</p> + +<p>Chris was silent, thinking. Presently he turned upon +her the old smile that she had always found irresistible, +and put his two hands on her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"You are a wonderful woman, Norma!" he said, +slowly. "What woman in the world, but you, would +do that? Yes, I'll do it—for Leslie's sake, and Acton's +sake, and because I believe Alice would think it as +wonderful in you as I do. But think," Chris said, +"think just a few days, Norma. You and I—you and I +might go a long way, my dear!"</p> + +<p>If he had said it even at this hour yesterday, he might +have shaken her, for the voice was the voice of the old +Chris, and she had been even then puzzled and confused +to see the wisest way. But now everything was changed; +he could not reach her now, even when he put his arm +about her, and said that this was one of their rare last +chances to be alone together, and asked if it must be +good-bye.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him gravely and unashamedly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it must be good-bye—dear Chris!" she said, +with a little emotion. "Although I hope we will see +each other often, if ever Wolf and I come back. Engineers +live in Canada and Panama and India and +Alaska, you know, and we never will know we are coming +until we get here! And I'm not going to try to +thank you, Chris, for what you did for an ignorant, silly, +strange little girl; you've been a big brother to me all +these last years! And something more, of course,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +Norma added, bravely, "and I won't say—I can't say—that +if it hadn't been for Wolf, and all the changes +this year—changes in me, too—I wouldn't have loved +you all my life. But there's no place that you could +take me, as Wolf Sheridan's divorced wife, that would +seem worth while to me, when I got there—not if it was +in the peerage!"</p> + +<p>"There's just one thing that I want to say, too, +Norma," Chris said, suddenly, when she had finished. +"I'm not good enough for you; I know it. I see myself +as I am, sometimes, I suppose. I think you're going +to be happy—and God knows I hope so; perhaps it <i>is</i> +a realer life, your husband's: and perhaps a man who +works for his wife with his hands and his head has got +something on us other fellows after all! I've often +wished——But that doesn't matter now. But I want you +to know I'll always remember you as the finest woman +I ever knew—just the best there is! And if ever I've +hurt you, forgive me, won't you, Norma?—and—and +let me kiss you good-bye!"</p> + +<p>She raised her face to his confidently, and her eyes +were misty when she went upstairs, because she had seen +that his were wet. But there was no more unhappiness; +indeed an overwhelming sense that everything was right—that +every life had shifted back into normal and +manageable and infinitely better lines, went with her +as she walked slowly out into the sunshine, and wandered +in the general direction of Aunt Kate's. As she +left the old Melrose home, the big limousine was standing +at the door, and presently Annie and Leslie would +sweep out in their flowing veils and crapes, and whirl +off to the Von Behrens mansion. But Norma Sheridan +was content to walk to the omnibus, and to take the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +jolting front seat, and to look down in all brotherly love +and companionship at the moving and shifting crowds +that were glorying in the warm spring weather.</p> + +<p>To be busy—to be needed—to be loved—she said +to herself. That was the sweet of life, and it could not +be taken from the policeman at the crossing or the humblest +little shop-girl who scampered under his big arm, +or bought by the bored women in limousines who, furred +and flowered and feathered, were moving from the +matinée to the tea table. Caroline Craigie, Aunt Annie, +Leslie; she had seen the material advantages of +life fail them all.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">Aunt Kate</span> was out when Norma reached the apartment, +but she knew that the key was always on the top +of the door frame, and entered the familiar old rooms +without any trouble. But she saw in a dismayed flash +that Aunt Kate was not coming back, for that night at +least. The kitchen window had been left four inches +open, to accommodate the cat, milk and bones were laid +in waiting, and a note in the bottle notified the milkman +"no milk until to-morrow." There was also a note in +pencil, on the bottom of an egg-box, for the nurses who +rented two rooms, should either one of them chance to +come in and be hungry, she was to eat "the pudding +and the chicken stew, and get herself a good supper."</p> + +<p>Norma, chuckling a little, got herself the good supper +instead. It was with a delightful sense of solitude and +irresponsibility that she sat eating it, at the only window +in the flat that possessed a good view, the kitchen window. +Aunt Kate, she decided, was with Rose, who had +no telephone; Norma thought that she would wait until +Aunt Kate got home the next day, rather than chance +the long trip to the Oranges again. An alternative +would have been to go to Aunt Annie's house, but somehow +the thought of the big, silent handsome place, with +the men in evening wear, Aunt Annie and Leslie in just +the correct mourning décolleté, and the conversation +decorously funereal, did not appeal to her. Instead it +seemed a real adventure to dine alone, and after dinner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +to put on a less conspicuous hat and coat, and slip out +into the streets, and walk about in her new-found freedom.</p> + +<p>The night was soft and balmy, and the sidewalks filled +with sauntering groups enjoying the first delicious +promise of summer as much as Norma did. The winter +had been long and cold and snowy; great masses of thawing +ice from far-away rivers were slowly drifting down +the star-lighted surface of the Hudson, and the trees +were still bare. But the air was warm, and the breezes +lifted and stirred the tender darkness above her head +with a summery sweetness.</p> + +<p>Norma loved all the world to-night; the work-tired +world that was revelling in idleness and fresh air. Romance +seemed all about her, the doorways into which +children reluctantly vanished, the gossiping women +coming back from bakery or market, the candy stores +flooded with light, and crowded with young people who +were having the brightest and most thrilling moments +of all their lives over banana specials and chocolate +sundaes. The usual whirlpools eddied about the subway +openings and moving-picture houses, the usual +lovers locked arms, in the high rocking darkness of the +omnibus tops, and looked down in apathetic indifference +upon the disappointment of other lovers at the crossings. +In the bright windows of dairy restaurants grapefruit +were piled, and big baked apples ranged in saucers, and +beyond there were hungry men leaning far over the +table while they discussed doughnuts and strong coffee, +and shook open evening papers.</p> + +<p>She and Wolf had studied it all for years; it was sordid +and crowded and cheap, perhaps, but it was honest and +happy, too, and it was real. There was no affectation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +here, even the premature spring hats, and the rouge, +and the high heels were an ingenuous bid for just a little +notice, just a little admiration, just a little longer +youth.</p> + +<p>Sauntering along in the very heart of it, hearing the +flirtation, the theatrical chatter, the homely gossip about +her, Norma knew that she was at home. Leslie, perhaps, +might have loathed it had she been put down in +the midst of it; to Aunt Annie it would always seem +entirely beneath even contempt. But Norma realized +to-night, as she slipped into church for a few minutes, as +she dropped a coin into a beggar's tin cup, as she entered +into casual conversation with the angry mother of a +defiant boy, that this, to her, was life. It was life—to +work, to plan, to marry and bear children, to wrest her +own home from unfavourable conditions, and help her +own man to win. She would live, because she would +care—care deeply how Wolf fared in his work, how her +house prospered, how her children developed. She +would not be Aunt Annie's sort of woman—Chris's sort—she +would be herself, judged not by what she had, but +by what she could do—what she could give.</p> + +<p>"And that's the kind of woman I am, after all," she +said to herself, rejoicingly. "The child of a French +maid and a spoiled, rich young man! But no, I'm not +their child. I'm Aunt Kate's—just as much as Rose +and Wolf are——!" And at the thought of Wolf she +smiled. "Won't Wolf Sheridan <i>open his eyes</i>?"</p> + +<p>When she reached Forty-first Street she turned east, +and went past the familiar door of the opera house. It +was a special performance, and the waiting line stretched +from the box office down the street, and around the +corner, into the dark. They would only be able to buy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +standing room, these patient happy music lovers who +grew weary and cold waiting for their treat, and even +standing, they would be behind an immovable crowd, +they would catch only occasional glimpses of the stage. +But Norma told herself that she would rather be in that +line, than yawningly deciding, as she had so often seen +Annie decide, that she would perhaps rustle into the +box at ten o'clock for the third act—although it was +rather a bore.</p> + +<p>She flitted near enough to see the general stir, and to +see once more the sign "No Footmen Allowed in This +Lobby," and then, smiling at the old memories, she +slipped away into the darkness, drinking in insatiably +the intimate friendliness of the big city and the spring +night.</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">It was</span> ten o'clock the next day, a silent gray day, +when Aunt Kate let herself into the apartment, and +"let out," to use her own phrase, a startled exclamation +at finding her young daughter-in-law deeply asleep in +her bed. Norma, a vision of cloudy dark tumbled hair +and beautiful sleepy blue eyes, half-strangled the older +woman in a rapturous embrace, and explained that she +had come home the night before, and eaten the chicken +stew, and perhaps overslept—at any rate would love +some coffee.</p> + +<p>Something faintly shadowed in her aunt's welcome, +however, was immediately apparent, and Norma asked, +with a trace of anxiety, if Rose's babies were well. For +answer her aunt merely asked if Wolf had telephoned.</p> + +<p>"Wolf!" said Wolf's wife. "Is he home?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," Mrs. Sheridan said. "He's going—he's +gone!—to California!"</p> + +<p>Norma did not move. But the colour went out of her +face, and the brightness from her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Gone!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Well—he goes to-day! At six o'clock——"</p> + +<p>"At six o'clock!" Norma leaped from her bed, +stood with clenched hands and wild eyes, thinking, in +the middle of the floor. "It's twenty-two minutes past +ten," she breathed. "Where does he leave?"</p> + +<p>"Rose and I were to see him at the Grand Central at +quarter past five," his mother began, catching the con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span>tagious +excitement. "But, darling, I don't know where +you can get him before that!—Here, let me do that," +she added, for Norma had dashed into the kitchen, +and was measuring coffee recklessly. A brown stream +trickled to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord—Lord—help me to get hold of him somewhere!" +she heard Norma breathe. "And you weren't +going to let me know—but it's my fault," she said, putting +her hands over her face, and rocking to and fro in +desperate suspense. "Oh, how can I get him?—I must! +Oh, Aunt Kate—<i>help me</i>! Oh, I'm not even dressed—and +that clock says half-past ten! Aunt Kate, will +you help me!"</p> + +<p>"Norma, my darling," her aunt said, arresting the +whirling little figure with a big arm, and looking down +at her with all the love and sadness of her great heart +in her face, "why do you want to see him, dear? He +told me—he had to tell his mother, poor boy, for his +heart is broken—that you were not going with him!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Aunt Kate—he'll have to wait for me!" +Norma said, stamping a slippered foot, and beginning +to cry with hurt and helplessness. "Oh, won't you +help me? You always help me! Don't—don't mind +what I said to Wolf; you know how silly I am! But +please—<i>please</i>——"</p> + +<p>"But, Baby—you're sure?" Mrs. Sheridan asked, feeling +as if ice that had been packed about her heart for days +was breaking and stirring, and as if the exquisite pain +of it would kill her. "Don't—hurt him again, Norma!"</p> + +<p>"But he's going off—without me," Norma wailed, +rushing to the bathroom, and pinning her magnificent +mass of soft dark hair into a stern knob for her bath. +"Aunt Kate, I've always loved Wolf, always!" she said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +passionately. "And if he really had gone away without +me I think it would have broken my heart! You <i>know</i> +how I love him! We'll catch him somewhere, I know +we will! We'll telephone—or else Harry——"</p> + +<p>She trailed into the kitchen half-dressed, ten minutes +later.</p> + +<p>"I've telephoned for a taxi, Aunt Kate, and we'll +find him somewhere," she said, gulping hot coffee appreciatively. +"I must—I've something to tell him. +But I'll have to tell you everything in the cab. To +begin with—it's all over. I'm done with the Melroses. +I appreciate all they did for me, and I appreciate your +worrying and planning about that old secret. But I've +made up my mind. Whatever you have of letters, and +papers and proofs, I want you please to do the family a +last favour by burning—every last shred. I've told +Chris, I won't touch a cent of the money, except what +Aunt Marianna left me; and I never, never, never intend +to say one more word on the subject! Thousands didn't +make me happy, so why should a million? The best +thing my father ever did for me was to give my mother +a chance to bring me here to you!"</p> + +<p>She had gotten into her aunt's lap as she spoke, and +was rubbing her cheek against the older, roughened +cheek, and punctuating her conversation with little +kisses. Mrs. Sheridan looked at her, and blinked, and +seemed to find nothing to say.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some day when it's hot—and the jelly +doesn't jell—and the children break the fence," pursued +Norma, "I will be sorry! I haven't much sense, and I +may feel that I've been a fool. But then I just want +you to remind me of Leslie—and the Craigies—or better, +of what a beast I am myself in that atmosphere! So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> +it's all over, Aunt Kate, and if Wolf will forgive me—and +he always does——"</p> + +<p>"He's bitterly hurt this time, Nono," said her aunt, +gently.</p> + +<p>Norma looked a little anxious.</p> + +<p>"I wrote him in Philadelphia," she said, "but he +won't get that letter. Oh, Aunt Kate—if we don't +find him! But we will—if I have to walk up to him in +the station the last minute—and stop him——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Norma, you love him!" his mother said, in a +great burst of thankfulness. "And may God be +thanked for all His goodness! That's all I care about—that +you love him, and that you two will be together +again. We'll get hold of him, dear, somehow——!"</p> + +<p>"But, my darling," she added, coming presently to +the bedroom door to see the dashing little feathered hat +go on, and the dotted veil pinned with exquisite nicety +over Norma's glowing face, and the belted brown coat +and loose brown fur rapidly assumed, "you're not +wearing your mourning!"</p> + +<p>"Not to-day," Norma said, abstractedly. And aloud +she read a list:</p> + +<p>"Bank; Grand Central; drawing-room; new suit-case; +notary for power of attorney; Kitty Barry; telephone +Chris, Leslie, Annie; telephone Regina about trunks. +Can we be back here at say—four, Aunt Kate?"</p> + +<p>"But what's all that for?" her aunt asked, dazedly.</p> + +<p>Norma looked at a check book; put it in her coat +pocket. Then as her aunt's question reached her preoccupied +mind, she turned toward her with a puzzled +expression.</p> + +<p>"Why, Aunt Kate—you don't seem to understand; +I'm going with Wolf to California this evening."</p> +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<p><span class="dcap">It was</span> exactly nineteen minutes past five o'clock when +Wolf Sheridan walked into the Grand Central Station +that afternoon. He had stopped outside to send his +wife some flowers, and just a brief line of farewell, and +he was thinking so hard of Norma that it seemed +natural that the woman who was coming toward him, +in the great central concourse, should suggest her. The +woman was pretty, too, and wore the sort of dashing +little hat that Norma often wore, and there was something +so familiar about the belted brown coat and +the soft brown furs that Wolf's heart gave a great +plunge, and began to ache—ache—ache—hopelessly +again.</p> + +<p>The brown coat came nearer—and nearer. And +then he saw that the wearer was indeed his wife. She +had dewy violets in her belt, and her violet eyes were +dewy, too, and her face paled suddenly as she put her +hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>What Norma all that tired and panicky afternoon had +planned to say to Wolf on this occasion was something +like this:</p> + +<p>"Wolf, if you ever loved me, and if I ever did anything +that made you happy, and if all these years when I have +been your little sister, and your chum, and your wife, +mean anything to you—don't push me away now! +I am sorrier for my foolishness, and more ashamed of it, +than you can possibly be! I think it was never any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>thing +but weakness and vanity that made me want to +flirt with Chris Liggett. I think that if he had once +stopped flattering me, and if ever our meetings had been +anything but stolen fruit, as it were, I would have seen +how utterly blind I was! I'm different now, Wolf; +I know that what I felt for him was only shallow vanity, +and that what I feel for you is the deepest and realest +love that any woman ever knew! There's nothing—no +minute of the day or night when I don't need you. +There's nothing that you think that isn't what I think! +I want to go West with you, and make a home there, +and when you go to China, or go to India, I want you +to go because your wife has helped you—because you +have had happy years of working and experimenting and +picnicking and planning—with me!</p> + +<p>"It's all over, Wolf, that Melrose business—that +dream! I've said good-bye to them, and they have to +me, and they know I'm never coming back! I'm a +Sheridan now—really and truly—for ever."</p> + +<p>And in the lonesome and bitter days in which his great +dream had come true, without Norma to share it, days +in which he had been thinking of her as affiliated more +and more with the element he despised, identified more +and more with the man who had wrecked—or tried to +wreck—her life, Wolf had imagined this meeting, and +imagined her as tentatively holding out the olive branch +of peace; and he had had time to formulate exactly what +he should answer to such an appeal.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Norma," he had imagined himself saying. +"I'm terribly sorry! But just talking doesn't undo +these things, just <i>saying</i> that you didn't mean it, and +that it's all over. No, married life can't be picked up +and put down again like a coat. You <i>were</i> my wife,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +and God knows I worshipped you—heart and soul! If +some day these people get tired of you, or you get tired +of them, that'll be different! But you've cut me too +deep—you've killed a part of me, and it won't come +alive again! I've been through hell—wondering what +you were doing, what you were going to do! I never +should have married you; now let's call it all quits, and +get out of it the best way we can!"</p> + +<p>But when he saw her, the familiar, lovely face that +he had loved for so many years, when he felt the little +gloved hand on his arm, and realized that somehow, +out of the utter desolation and loneliness of the big city, +she had come to him again, that she was here, mistily +smiling at him, and he could touch her and hear her +voice, everything else vanished, as if it had never been, +and he put his big arm about her hungrily, and kissed +her, and they were both in tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Wolf——!" Norma faltered, the dry spaces of +her soul flooding with springtime warmth and greenness, +and a great happiness sweeping away all consciousness +of the place in which they stood, and the interested eyes +about them. "Oh, Wolf——!" She thought that +she added, "Would you have gone away without me!" +but as a matter of fact words were not needed now.</p> + +<p>"Nono—you <i>do</i> love me?" he whispered. Or perhaps +he only thought he enunciated the phrase, for although +Norma answered, it was not audibly. Neither of them +ever remembered anything coherent of that first five +minutes, in which momentous questions were settled +between Norma's admiring comment upon Wolf's new +coat, and in which they laughed and cried and clung +together in shameless indifference to the general public.</p> + +<p>But presently they were calm enough to talk, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> +Wolf's first constructive remark, not even now very +steady or clear, was that he must put off his going, get +hold of Voorhies somehow——</p> + +<p>But no, Norma said, even while they were dashing +toward the telegraph office. She had already bought +her ticket; she was going, too—to-night—this very +hour——!</p> + +<p>Wolf brought her up short, ecstatic bewilderment in +his face.</p> + +<p>"But your trunks——?"</p> + +<p>"Regina—I tell you it's all settled—Regina sends +them on after me. And I've got a new big suit-case, +and my old brown one, that's plenty for the present! +They're checked here, in the parcel-room——"</p> + +<p>"But we'll——" They had started automatically +to rush toward the parcel-room, but now he brought her +up short again. "It's five-thirty now," he muttered, +turning briskly in still another direction, "let me have +your ticket, we'll have to try for a section—it's pretty +late, but there may be cancellations!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but see, Wolf——! I've been here since half-past +four. I've got the A drawing-room in Car 131——" +She brought forth an official-looking envelope, and +flashed a flimsy bit of coloured paper. For a third time +Wolf checked his hurried rushing, and they both broke +into delicious laughter. "I've been at it all day, with +Aunt Kate," Norma said, proudly. "I've been to banks +and to Judge Lee's office, and I've seen Annie and Leslie, +and I bought a new wrapper and a suit-case, and—oh, +and I saw Kitty Barry, and I got you a book for the +train, and I got myself one——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Norma," Wolf said, his eyes filling, "you +God-blessèd little adorable idiot, do you know how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +I love you? My darling—my own wife, do you know +that I want to die, to-night, I'm so happy! Do you +realize what it's going to mean to us, poking about +Chicago, and sending home little presents to Rose and +the kids, and reaching San Francisco, and going up to +the big mine? Do you realize that I feel like a man out +of jail—like a kid who knows it's Saturday morning?"</p> + +<p>"Well—I feel that way, too!" Norma smiled. "And +now," she added, in a businesslike tone, "we've got to +look for Aunt Kate and Rose, and get our bags; and +Leslie said to-day that it was a good idea to wire a +Chicago hotel for a room, just for the few hours before +the Overland pulls out, because one feels so dirty and +tired; do you realize that I've never spent a night on a +Pullman yet?"</p> + +<p>"And I'll turn in the ticket for my lower," Wolf said; +"we'll have dinner on board, so that's all right——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Wolf, and won't that be fun?" Norma exulted. +And then, joyously: "Oh, there they are!"</p> + +<p>And she fled across the great space to meet Rose, +pretty and matronly, at the foot of the great stairway, +and Harry grinning and proud, with his little sturdy +white-caped boy in his arms, and Aunt Kate beaming +utter happiness upon them all. And then ensued +that thrilling time of incoherencies and confusions, +laughter and tears, to which the big place is, by nature, +dedicated. They were parting so lightly, but they +all knew that there would be changes before they six +met again. To Aunt Kate, holding close the child +whose destinies had been so strangely entangled with +her own, the moment held a poignant pleasure as well +as pain. She was launched now, their imperious, beloved +youngest; she had been taken to the mountain-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span>tops, +and shown the world at her feet, and she had +chosen bravely and wisely, chosen her part of service +and simplicity and love. Life would go on, changes +indeed and growth everywhere, but she knew that the +years would bring her back a new Norma—a developed, +sweetened, self-reliant woman—and a new Wolf, his +hard childhood all swept away and forgotten in the +richness and beauty of this woman's love and companionship. +And she was content.</p> + +<p>"And, Wolf—she told you about Kitty! Every +month, as long as they need it," Rose said, crying +heartily, as she clung to her brother. "Why, it's the +most wonderful thing I ever heard! Poor Louis Barry +can't believe it—he broke down completely! And Kitty +was crying, and kissing the children, and she knelt +down, and put her arms about Norma's knees; and +Norma was crying, too—you never saw anything like +it!"</p> + +<p>"She never told me a word about it," Wolf said, +trying to laugh, and blinking, as he looked at her, a +few feet away. One of her arms was about his mother, +her hand was in Harry's, her face close to the rosy +baby's face.</p> + +<p>"Wolf," his sister said, earnestly, drying her eyes, +"it will bring a blessing on your own children——!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rose!" he answered, quickly. "Pray that +there is one, some day—one of our own as sweet as +yours are!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you'll have everything, you two, never fear!" +she said, radiantly. And then a gate opened, and the +bustle about them thickened, and laughing faces grew +pale, and last words faltered.</p> + +<p>Harry gave Rose the baby, and put his arm about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> +Rose's mother, and they watched them go, the red-cap +leading with the suit-cases, Wolf carrying another, +Norma on his arm, twisting herself about, at the very +last second, to smile an April smile over her shoulder, +and wave the green jade handle of her slim little umbrella. +There was just a glimpse of Wolf's old boyish, +proud, protecting smile, and then his head drooped +toward his companion, and the surging crowd shut +them out of sight.</p> + +<p>Then Rose immediately was concerned for the little +baby. Wouldn't it be wiser to go straight home, just +for fear that Mrs. Noon might have fallen asleep—and +the house caught on fire——? Mrs. Sheridan blew her +nose and dried her eyes, and straightened her widow's +bonnet, and cleared her throat, and agreed that it would. +And they all went away.</p> + +<p>But there was another watcher who had shared, unseen, +all this last half-hour, and who stood immovable to +the last second, until the iron gates had actually clashed +shut. It was a well-built, keen-eyed man, in an irreproachably +fitting fur-collared overcoat, who finally +turned away, fitting his eyeglasses, on their black +ribbon, firmly upon the bridge of his nose, and sighing +just a little as he went back to the sidewalk, and +climbed into a waiting roadster.</p> + +<p>Even after he took his seat at the wheel, he made no +effort to start the car, but sat slowly drawing on his +heavy gloves, and staring abstractedly at the dull, +uninteresting stretch of street before him, where a +dismal spring wind was stirring chaff and papers about +the subway entrance, and surface cars were grinding +and ringing on the curve.</p> + +<p>It looked dull and empty—dull and empty, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +thought. She had been very happy, looking up at +her man, kissing her people good-bye. She was a remarkable +woman, Norma.</p> + +<p>"A remarkable woman—Norma," he said, half-aloud. +"She will make him a wonderful wife; she +will help him to go a long way. And she never would +have had patience for formal living; it wasn't in her!"</p> + +<p>But he remembered what was in her, what eager +gaiety, what hunger for new impressions, what courage +in seizing her dilemmas the instant she saw them. He +remembered the flash of her eyes, and the curve of +her proud little mouth.</p> + +<p>"Theodore had more charm than any of them," he +said, "and she is like him. Well—perhaps I'll meet +somebody like her, some day, and the story will have a +different ending!"</p> + +<p>But he knew in his heart that there was nobody +like her, and that she had gone out of his life for ever.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>They had hung the belted brown coat over the big +new gray one in the drawing-room, and Norma had +brushed her hair, and Wolf had shoved the suit-cases +under the seats, and they had gone straight into the +dining-car, and were at a lighted little shining table by +this time. Wolf had had no lunch; Norma was, +she said, starving. They ordered their meal just as +the train drew out of the underground arcades and +swept over the city, in the twilight of the dull, sunless +day.</p> + +<p>Norma looked down, and joy and a vague heartache +struggled within her. The little city blocks, draped +with their frail tangles of fire-escapes, were as clean-cut +as toys. In the streets children were screaming and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +racing, at the doorways women loitered and talked. +Great trucks lumbered in and out among surging +pedestrians, and women and children stood before the +green-grocers' displays of oranges and cabbages, and +trickled in and out of the markets, where cheap cuts +were advertised in great chalk signs on the windows. +Red brick, yellow brick, gray cement, the streets fled +by; the dear, familiar streets that she and Wolf, and +she and Rose, had tramped and explored, in the burning +dry heat of July, in the flutter of November's first +snows.</p> + +<p>"Say good-bye to it, Wolf; it will be a long time before +we see New York again!"</p> + +<p>Wolf looked down, grinning. Then, as they left the +city, and the dusk deepened, his eyes went toward +the river, went toward the vague and waiting West. +The Palisades lay, a wide bar of soft dull gray, against +the paler dove-colour of the sky. Above them, bare +trees were etched sharply, and beneath them was the +satiny surface of the full Hudson.</p> + +<p>It was still water, and the river was smooth enough +to give back a clear reflection of the buildings and the +wharves on the opposite shore, and the floating ice from +the north looked like rounded bunches of foam arrested +on the shining waters.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the sinking sun evaded the smother of +cloud, and flashed out red and shining, for only a few +brilliant minutes. It caught window glass like flame, +twinkled and smouldered in the mirror of the river, +and lighted the under edges of low clouds with a crisp +touch of apricot and pink. Wet streets shone joyously, +doves rose in a circling whirl from a near-by roof, and +all the world shone and sparkled in the last breath of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +the spring day. Then dusk came indeed, and the +villages across the river were strung with increasing +lights, and in the tender opal softness of the evening +sky Norma saw a great star hanging.</p> + +<p>"That's a good omen—that's our own little star!" +she said softly to herself. She looked up to see Wolf +smiling at her, and the smile in her own eyes deepened, +and she stretched a warm and comradely hand to him +across the little table.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + +<div class="trnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>Table of Contents added by the transcriber.<br /> + Hyphenation standardized.<br /> + Archaic and variable spelling was preserved as printed.<br /> + Missing quotation marks were added to standardize usage. Otherwise, + the editor's punctuation style was preserved. +</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Beloved Woman, by Kathleen Norris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BELOVED WOMAN *** + +***** This file should be named 28301-h.htm or 28301-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/3/0/28301/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Katherine Ward and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +book was produced from scanned images of public domain +material from the Google Print project.) + + +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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