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diff --git a/old/cwgld10.txt b/old/cwgld10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3e7c2a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwgld10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8699 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Golden House, by Charles Dudley Warner +(#8 in our series by Charles Dudley Warner) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +The Golden House + +by Charles Dudley Warner + + + + +THE GOLDEN HOUSE + +I + +It was near midnight: The company gathered in a famous city studio were +under the impression, diligently diffused in the world, that the end of +the century is a time of license if not of decadence. The situation had +its own piquancy, partly in the surprise of some of those assembled at +finding themselves in bohemia, partly in a flutter of expectation of +seeing something on the border-line of propriety. The hour, the place, +the anticipation of the lifting of the veil from an Oriental and ancient +art, gave them a titillating feeling of adventure, of a moral hazard +bravely incurred in the duty of knowing life, penetrating to its core. +Opportunity for this sort of fruitful experience being rare outside the +metropolis, students of good and evil had made the pilgrimage to this +midnight occasion from less-favored cities. Recondite scholars in the +physical beauty of the Greeks, from Boston, were there; fair women from +Washington, whose charms make the reputation of many a newspaper +correspondent; spirited stars of official and diplomatic life, who have +moments of longing to shine in some more languorous material paradise, +had made a hasty flitting to be present at the ceremony, sustained by a +slight feeling of bravado in making this exceptional descent. But the +favored hundred spectators were mainly from the city-groups of late +diners, who fluttered in under that pleasurable glow which the red +Jacqueminot always gets from contiguity with the pale yellow Clicquot; +theatre parties, a little jaded, and quite ready for something real and +stimulating; men from the clubs and men from studios--representatives of +society and of art graciously mingled, since it is discovered that it is +easier to make art fashionable than to make fashion artistic. + +The vast, dimly lighted apartment was itself mysterious, a temple of +luxury quite as much as of art. Shadows lurked in the corners, the ribs +of the roof were faintly outlined; on the sombre walls gleams of color, +faces of loveliness and faces of pain, studies all of a mood or a +passion, bits of shining brass, reflections from lustred ware struggling +out of obscurity; hangings from Fez or Tetuan, bits of embroidery, +costumes in silk and in velvet, still having the aroma of balls a hundred +years ago, the faint perfume of a scented society of ladies and gallants; +a skeleton scarcely less fantastic than the draped wooden model near it; +heavy rugs of Daghestan and Persia, making the footfalls soundless on the +floor; a fountain tinkling in a thicket of japonicas and azaleas; the +stems of palmettoes, with their branches waving in the obscurity +overhead; points of light here and there where a shaded lamp shone on a +single red rose in a blue Granada vase on a toppling stand, or on a mass +of jonquils in a barbarous pot of Chanak-Kallessi; tacked here and there +on walls and hangings, colored memoranda of Capri and of the North Woods, +the armor of knights, trophies of small-arms, crossed swords of the Union +and the Confederacy, easels, paints, and palettes, and rows of canvases +leaning against the wall-the studied litter, in short, of a successful +artist, whose surroundings contribute to the popular conception of his +genius. + +On the wall at one end of the apartment was stretched a white canvas; in +front of it was left a small cleared space, on the edge of which, in the +shadow, squatting on the floor, were four swarthy musicians in Oriental +garments, with a mandolin, a guitar, a ney, and a darabooka drum. About +this cleared space, in a crescent, knelt or sat upon the rugs a couple of +rows of men in evening dress; behind them, seated in chairs, a group of +ladies, whose white shoulders and arms and animated faces flashed out in +the semi-obscurity; and in their rear stood a crowd of spectators-- +beautiful young gentlemen with vacant faces and the elevated Oxford +shoulders, rosy youth already blase to all this world can offer, and +gray-headed men young again in the prospect of a new sensation. So they +kneel or stand, worshipers before the shrine, expecting the advent of the +Goddess of AEsthetic Culture. + +The moment has come. There is a tap on the drum, a tuning of the +strings, a flash of light from the rear of the room inundates the white +canvas, and suddenly a figure is poised in the space, her shadow cast +upon the glowing background. + +It is the Spanish dancer! + +The apparition evokes a flutter of applause. It is a superb figure, clad +in a high tight bodice and long skirts simply draped so as to show every +motion of the athletic limbs. She seems, in this pose and light, +supernaturally tall. Through her parted lips white teeth gleam, and she +smiles. Is it a smile of anticipated, triumph, or of contempt? Is it +the smile of the daughter of Herodias, or the invitation of a +'ghazeeyeh'? She pauses. Shall she surprise, or shock, or only please? +What shall the art that is older than the pyramids do for these kneeling +Christians? The drum taps, the ney pipes, the mandolin twangs, her arms +are extended--the castanets clink, a foot is thrust out, the bosom +heaves, the waist trembles. What shall it be--the old serpent dance of +the Nile, or the posturing of decorous courtship when the olives are +purple in the time of the grape harvest? Her head, wreathed with coils +of black hair, a red rose behind the left ear, is thrown back. The eyes +flash, there is a snakelike movement of the limbs, the music hastens +slowly in unison with the quickening pulse, the body palpitates, seems to +flash invitation like the eyes, it turns, it twists, the neck is thrust +forward, it is drawn in, while the limbs move still slowly, tentatively; +suddenly the body from the waist up seems to twist round, with the waist +as a pivot, in a flash of athletic vigor, the music quickens, the arms +move more rapidly to the click of the heated castenets, the steps are +more pronounced, the whole woman is agitated, bounding, pulsing with +physical excitement. It is a Maenad in an access of gymnastic energy. +Yes, it is gymnastics; it is not grace; it is scarcely alluring. Yet it +is a physical triumph. While the spectators are breathless, the fury +ceases, the music dies, and the Spaniard sinks into a chair, panting with +triumph, and inclines her dark head to the clapping of hands and the +bravos. The kneelers rise; the spectators break into chattering groups; +the ladies look at the dancer with curious eyes; a young gentleman with +the elevated Oxford shoulders leans upon the arm of her chair and fans +her. The pose is correct; it is the somewhat awkward tribute of culture +to physical beauty. + +To be on speaking terms with the phenomenon was for the moment a +distinction. The young ladies wondered if it would be proper to go +forward and talk with her. + +"Why not?" said a wit. "The Duke of Donnycastle always shakes hands with +the pugilists at a mill." + +"It is not so bad"--the speaker was a Washington beauty in an evening +dress that she would have condemned as indecorous for the dancer it is +not so bad as I--" + +"Expected?" asked her companion, a sedate man of thirty-five, with the +cynical air of a student of life. + +"As I feared," she added, quickly. "I have always had a curiosity to +know what these Oriental dances mean." + +"Oh, nothing in particular, now. This was an exhibition dance. Of +course its origin, like all dancing, was religious. The fault I find +with it is that it lacks seriousness, like the modern exhibition of the +dancing dervishes for money." + +"Do you think, Mr. Mavick, that the decay of dancing is the reason our +religion lacks seriousness? We are in Lent now, you know. Does this +seem to you a Lenten performance?" + +"Why, yes, to a degree. Anything that keeps you up till three o'clock in +the morning has some penitential quality." + +"You give me a new view, Mr. Mavick. I confess that I did not expect to +assist at what New Englanders call an 'evening meeting.' I thought Eros +was the deity of the dance." + +"That, Mrs. Lamon, is a vulgar error. It is an ancient form of worship. +Virtue and beauty are the same thing--the two graces." + +"What a nice apothegm! It makes religion so easy and agreeable." + +"As easy as gravitation." + +"Dear me, Mr. Mavick, I thought this was a question of levitation. You +are upsetting all my ideas. I shall not have the comfort of repenting of +this episode in Lent." + +"Oh yes; you can be sorry that the dancing was not more alluring." + +Meantime there was heard the popping of corks. Venetian glasses filled +with champagne were quaffed under the blessing of sparkling eyes, young +girls, almond-eyed for the occasion, in the costume of Tokyo, handed +round ices, and the hum of accelerated conversation filled the studio. + +"And your wife didn't come?" + +"Wouldn't," replied Jack Delancy, with a little bow, before he raised his +glass. And then added, "Her taste isn't for this sort of thing." + +The girl, already flushed with the wine, blushed a little--Jack thought +he had never seen her look so dazzlingly handsome --as she said, "And you +think mine is?" + +"Bless me, no, I didn't mean that; that is, you know"--Jack didn't +exactly see his way out of the dilemma--"Edith is a little old-fashioned; +but what's the harm in this, anyway?" + +"I did not say there was any," she replied, with a smile at his +embarrassment. "Only I think there are half a dozen women in the room +who could do it better, with a little practice. It isn't as Oriental as +I thought it would be." + +"I cannot say as to that. I know Edith thinks I've gone into the depths +of the Orient. But, on the whole, I'm glad--" Jack stopped on the verge +of speaking out of his better nature. + +"Now don't be rude again. I quite understand that she is not here." + +The dialogue was cut short by a clapping of hands. The spectators took +their places again, the lights were lowered, the illumination was turned +on the white canvas, and the dancer, warmed with wine and adulation, took +a bolder pose, and, as her limbs began to move, sang a wild Moorish +melody in a shrill voice, action and words flowing together into the +passion of the daughter of tents in a desert life. It was all vigorous, +suggestive, more properly religious, Mavick would have said, and the +applause was vociferous. + +More wine went about. There was another dance, and then another, a slow +languid movement, half melancholy and full of sorrow, if one might say +that of a movement, for unrepented sin; a gypsy dance this, accompanied +by the mournful song of Boabdil, "The Last Sigh of the Moor." And +suddenly, when the feelings of the spectators were melted to tender +regret, a flash out of all this into a joyous defiance, a wooing of +pleasure with smiling lips and swift feet, with the clash of cymbals and +the quickened throb of the drum. And so an end with the dawn of a new +day. + +It was not yet dawn, however, for the clocks were only striking three as +the assembly, in winter coats and soft wraps, fluttered out to its +carriages, chattering and laughing, with endless good-nights in the +languages of France, Germany, and Spain. + +The streets were as nearly deserted as they ever are; here and there a +lumbering market-wagon from Jersey, an occasional street-car with its +tinkling bell, rarer still the rush of a trembling train on the elevated, +the voice of a belated reveler, a flitting female figure at a street +corner, the roll of a livery hack over the ragged pavement. But mainly +the noise of the town was hushed, and in the sharp air the stars, far off +and uncontaminated, glowed with a pure lustre. + +Farther up town it was quite still, and in one of the noble houses in the +neighborhood of the Park sat Edith Delancy, married not quite a year, +listening for the roll of wheels and the click of a night-key. + + + + +II + +Everybody liked John Corlear Delancy, and this in spite of himself, for +no one ever knew him to make any effort to incur either love or hate. +The handsome boy was a favorite without lifting his eyebrows, and he +sauntered through the university, picking his easy way along an elective +course, winning the affectionate regard of every one with whom he came in +contact. And this was not because he lacked quality, or was merely easy- +going and negative or effeminate, for the same thing happened to him when +he went shooting in the summer in the Rockies. The cowboys and the +severe moralists of the plains, whose sedate business in life is to get +the drop on offensive persons, regarded him as a brother. It isn't a bad +test of personal quality, this power to win the loyalty of men who have +few or none of the conventional virtues. These non-moral enforcers of +justice--as they understood it liked Jack exactly as his friends in the +New York clubs liked him--and perhaps the moral standard of approval of +the one was as good as the other. + +Jack was a very good shot and a fair rider, and in the climate of England +he might have taken first-rate rank in athletics. But he had never taken +first-rate rank in anything, except good-fellowship. He had a great many +expensive tastes, which he could not afford to indulge, except in +imagination. The luxury of a racing-stable, or a yacht, or a library of +scarce books bound by Paris craftsmen was denied him. Those who account +for failures in life by a man's circumstances, and not by a lack in the +man himself, which is always the secret of failure, said that Jack was +unfortunate in coming into a certain income of twenty thousand a year. +This was just enough to paralyze effort, and not enough to permit a man +to expand in any direction. It is true that he was related to millions +and moved in a millionaire atmosphere, but these millions might never +flow into his bank account. They were not in hand to use, and they also +helped to paralyze effort--like black clouds of an impending shower that +may pass around, but meantime keeps the watcher indoors. + +The best thing that Jack Delancy ever did, for himself, was to marry +Edith Fletcher. The wedding, which took place some eight months before +the advent of the Spanish dancer, was a surprise to many, for the girl +had even less fortune than Jack, and though in and of his society +entirely, was supposed to have ideals. Her family, indeed, was an old +one on the island, and was prominent long before the building of the +stone bridge on Canal Street over the outlet of Collect Pond. Those who +knew Edith well detected in her that strain of moral earnestness which +made the old Fletchers such stanch and trusty citizens. The wonder was +not that Jack, with his easy susceptibility to refined beauty, should +have been attracted to her, or have responded to a true instinct of what +was best for him, but that Edith should have taken up with such a perfect +type of the aimlessness of the society strata of modern life. The +wonder, however, was based upon a shallow conception of the nature of +woman. It would have been more wonderful if the qualities that endeared +Jack to college friends and club men, to the mighty sportsmen who do not +hesitate, in the clubs, to devastate Canada and the United States of big +game, and to the border ruffians of Dakota, should not have gone straight +to the tender heart of a woman of ideals. And when in all history was +there a woman who did not believe, when her heart went with respect for +certain manly traits, that she could inspire and lift a man into a noble +life? + +The silver clock in the breakfast-room was striking ten, and Edith was +already seated at the coffee-urn, when Jack appeared. She was as fresh +as a rose, and greeted him with a bright smile as he came behind her +chair and bent over for the morning kiss--a ceremony of affection which, +if omitted, would have left a cloud on the day for both of them, and +which Jack always declared was simply a necessity, or the coffee would +have no flavor. But when a man has picked a rose, it is always a sort of +climax which is followed by an awkward moment, and Jack sat down with the +air of a man who has another day to get through with. + +"Were you amused with the dancing--this morning?" + +"So, so," said Jack, sipping his coffee. "It was a stunning place for +it, that studio; you'd have liked that. The Lamons and Mavick and a lot +of people from the provinces were there. The company was more fun than +the dance, especially to a fellow who has seen how good it can be and how +bad in its home." + +"You have a chance to see the Spanish dancer again, under proper +auspices," said Edith, without looking up. + +"How's that?" + +"We are invited by Mrs. Brown--" + +"The mother of the Bible class at St. Philip's?" + +"Yes--to attend a charity performance for the benefit of the Female +Waifs' Refuge. She is to dance." + +"Who? Mrs. Brown?" + +Edith paid no attention to this impertinence. "They are to make an +artificial evening at eleven o'clock in the morning." + +"They must have got hold of Mavick's notion that this dance is religious +in its origin. Do you, know if the exercises will open with prayer?" + +"Nonsense, Jack. You know I don't intend to go. I shall send a small +check." + +"Well, draw it mild. But isn't this what I'm accused of doing--shirking +my duty of personal service by a contribution?" + +"Perhaps. But you didn't have any of that shirking feeling last night, +did you?" + +Jack laughed, and ran round to give the only reply possible to such a +gibe. These breakfast interludes had not lost piquancy in all these +months. "I'm half a mind to go to this thing. I would, if it didn't +break up my day so." + +"As for instance?" + +"Well, this morning I have to go up to the riding-school to see a horse-- +Storm; I want to try him. And then I have to go down to Twist's and see +a lot of Japanese drawings he's got over. Do you know that the birds and +other animals those beggars have been drawing, which we thought were +caricatures, are the real thing? They have eyes sharp enough to see +things in motion--flying birds and moving horses which we never caught +till we put the camera on them. Awfully curious. Then I shall step into +the club a minute, and--" + +"Be in at lunch? Bess is coming." + +"Don't wait lunch. I've a lot to do." + +Edith followed him with her eyes, a little wistfully; she heard the outer +door close, and still sat at the table, turning over the pile of notes at +her plate, and thinking of many things--things that it began to dawn upon +her mind could not be done, and things of immediate urgency that must be +done. Life did not seem quite such a simple problem to her as it had +looked a year ago. That there is nothing like experiment to clear the +vision is the general idea, but oftener it is experience that perplexes. +Indeed, Edith was thinking that some things seemed much easier to her +before she had tried them. + +As she sat at the table with a faultless morning-gown, with a bunch of +English violets in her bosom, an artist could have desired no better +subject. Many people thought her eyes her best feature; they were large +brown eyes, yet not always brown, green at times, liquid, but never +uncertain, apt to have a smile in them, yet their chief appealing +characteristic was trustfulness, a pure sort of steadfastness, that +always conveyed the impression of a womanly personal interest in the +person upon whom they were fixed. They were eyes that haunted one like a +remembered strain of music. The lips were full, and the mouth was drawn +in such exquisite lines that it needed the clear-cut and emphasized chin +to give firmness to its beauty. The broad forehead, with arching +eyebrows, gave an intellectual cast to a face the special stamp of which +was purity. The nose, with thin open nostrils, a little too strong for +beauty, together with the chin, gave the impression of firmness and +courage; but the wonderful eyes, the inviting mouth, so modified this +that the total impression was that of high spirit and great sweetness of +character. It was the sort of face from which one might expect +passionate love or unflinching martyrdom. Her voice had a quality the +memory of which lingered longer even than the expression of her eyes; it +was low, and, as one might say, a fruity voice, not quite clear, though +sweet, as if veiled in femineity. This note of royal womanhood was also +in her figure, a little more than medium in height, and full of natural +grace. Somehow Edith, with all these good points, had not the reputation +of a belle or a beauty--perhaps for want of some artificial splendor--but +one could not be long in her company without feeling that she had great +charm, without which beauty becomes insipid and even commonplace, and +with which the plainest woman is attractive. + +Edith's theory of life, if one may so dignify the longings of a young +girl, had been very simple, and not at all such as would be selected by +the heroine of a romance. She had no mission, nor was she afflicted by +that modern form of altruism which is a yearning for notoriety by +conspicuous devotion to causes and reforms quite outside her normal +sphere of activity. A very sincere person, with strong sympathy for +humanity tempered by a keen perception of the humorous side of things, +she had a purpose, perhaps not exactly formulated, of making the most out +of her own life, not in any outward and shining career, but by a +development of herself in the most helpful and harmonious relations to +her world. And it seemed to her, though she had never philosophized it, +that a marriage such as she believed she had made was the woman's way to +the greatest happiness and usefulness. In this she followed the dictates +of a clear mind and a warm heart. If she had reasoned about it, +considering how brief life is, and how small can be any single +contribution to a better social condition, she might have felt more +strongly the struggle against nature, and the false position involved in +the new idea that marriage is only a kind of occupation, instead of an +ordinance decreed in the very constitution of the human race. With the +mere instinct of femineity she saw the falseness of the assumption that +the higher life for man or woman lies in separate and solitary paths +through the wilderness of this world. To an intelligent angel, seated on +the arch of the heavens, the spectacle of the latter-day pseudo- +philosophic and economic dribble about the doubtful expediency of having +a wife, and the failure of marriage, must seem as ludicrous as would a +convention of birds or of flowers reasoning that the processes of nature +had continued long enough. Edith was simply a natural woman, who felt +rather than reasoned that in a marriage such as her heart approved she +should make the most of her life. + +But as she sat here this morning this did not seem to be so simple a +matter as it had appeared. It began to be suspected that in order to +make the most of one's self it was necessary to make the most of many +other persons and things. The stream in its own channel flowed along not +without vexations, friction and foaming and dashings from bank to bank; +but it became quite another and a more difficult movement when it was +joined to another stream, with its own currents and eddies and +impetuosities and sluggishness, constantly liable to be deflected if not +put altogether on another course. Edith was not putting it in this form +as she turned over her notes of invitation and appointments and +engagements, but simply wondering where the time for her life was to come +in, and for Jack's life, which occupied a much larger space than it +seemed to occupy in the days before it was joined to hers. Very curious +this discovery of what another's life really is. Of course the society +life must go on, that had always gone on, for what purpose no one could +tell, only it was the accepted way of disposing of time; and now there +were the dozen ways in which she was solicited to show her interest in +those supposed to be less fortunate in life than herself-the alleviation +of the miseries of her own city. And with society, and charity, and +sympathy with the working classes, and her own reading, and a little +drawing and painting, for which she had some talent, what became of that +comradeship with Jack, that union of interests and affections, which was +to make her life altogether so high and sweet? + +This reverie, which did not last many minutes, and was interrupted by the +abrupt moving away of Edith to the writing-desk in her own room, was +caused by a moment's vivid realization of what Jack's interests in life +were. Could she possibly make them her own? And if she did, what would +become of her own ideals? + + + + +III + +It was indeed a busy day for Jack. Great injustice would be done him if +it were supposed that he did not take himself and his occupations +seriously. His mind was not disturbed by trifles. He knew that he had +on the right sort of four-in-hand necktie, with the appropriate pin of +pear-shaped pearl, and that he carried the cane of the season. These +things come by a sort of social instinct, are in the air, as it were, and +do not much tax the mind. He had to hasten a little to keep his half- +past-eleven o'clock appointment at Stalker's stables, and when he arrived +several men of his set were already waiting, who were also busy men, and +had made a little effort to come round early and assist Jack in making up +his mind about the horse. + +When Mr. Stalker brought out Storm, and led him around to show his +action, the connoisseurs took on a critical attitude, an attitude of +judgment, exhibited not less in the poise of the head and the serious +face than in the holding of the cane and the planting of legs wide apart. +And the attitude had a refined nonchalance which professional horsemen +scarcely ever attain. Storm could not have received more critical and +serious attention if he had been a cooked terrapin. He could afford to +stand this scrutiny, and he seemed to move about with the consciousness +that he knew more about being a horse than his judges. + +Storm was, in fact, a splendid animal, instinct with life from his thin +flaring nostril to his small hoof; black as a raven, his highly groomed +skin took the polish of ebony, and showed the play of his powerful +muscles, and, one might say, almost the nervous currents that thrilled +his fine texture. His large, bold eyes, though not wicked, flamed now +and then with an energy and excitement that gave ample notice that he +would obey no master who had not stronger will and nerve than his own. +It was a tribute to Jack's manliness that, when he mounted him for a turn +in the ring, Storm seemed to recognize the fine quality of both seat and +hand, and appeared willing to take him on probation. + +"He's got good points," said Mr. Herbert Albert Flick, "but I'd like a +straighter back." + +"I'll be hanged, though, Jack," was Mr. Mowbray Russell's comment, "if +I'd ride him in the Park before he's docked. Say what you like about +action, a horse has got to have style." + +"Moves easy, falls off a little too much to suit me in the quarter," +suggested Mr. Pennington Docstater, sucking the head of his cane. +"How about his staying quality, Stalker?" + +"That's just where he is, Mr. Docstater; take him on the road, he's a +stayer for all day. Goes like a bird. He'll take you along at the rate +of nine miles in forty-five minutes as long as you want to sit there." + +"Jump?" queried little Bobby Simerton, whose strong suit at the club was +talking about meets and hunters. + +"Never refused anything I put him at," replied Stalker; "takes every +fence as if it was the regular thing." + +Storm was in this way entirely taken to pieces, praised and disparaged, +in a way to give Stalker, it might be inferred from his manner, a high +opinion of the knowledge of these young gentlemen. "It takes a +gentleman," in fact, Stalker said, "to judge a hoss, for a good hoss is a +gentleman himself." It was much discussed whether Storm would do better +for the Park or for the country, whether it would be better to put him in +the field or keep him for a roadster. It might, indeed, be inferred that +Jack had not made up his mind whether he should buy a horse for use in +the Park or for country riding. Even more than this might be inferred +from the long morning's work, and that was that while Jack's occupation +was to buy a horse, if he should buy one his occupation would be gone. +He was known at the club to be looking for the right sort of a horse, and +that he knew what he wanted, and was not easily satisfied; and as long as +he occupied this position he was an object of interest to sellers and to +his companions. + +Perhaps Mr. Stalker understood this, for when the buyers had gone he +remarked to the stable-boy, "Mr. Delancy, he don't want to buy no hoss." + +When the inspection of the horse was finished it was time for lunch, and +the labors of the morning were felt to justify this indulgence, though +each of the party had other engagements, and was too busy to waste the +time. They went down to the Knickerbocker. + +The lunch was slight, but its ordering took time and consideration, as it +ought, for nothing is so destructive of health and mental tone as the +snatching of a mid-day meal at a lunch counter from a bill of fare +prepared by God knows whom. Mr. Russell said that if it took time to buy +a horse, it ought to take at least equal time and care to select the +fodder that was to make a human being wretched or happy. Indeed, a man +who didn't give his mind to what he ate wouldn't have any mind by-and-by +to give to anything. This sentiment had the assent of the table, and was +illustrated by varied personal experience; and a deep feeling prevailed, +a serious feeling, that in ordering and eating the right sort of lunch a +chief duty of a useful day had been discharged. + +It must not be imagined from this, however, that the conversation was +about trifles. Business men and operators could have learned something +about stocks and investments, and politicians about city politics. +Mademoiselle Vivienne, the new skirt dancer, might have been surprised at +the intimate tone in which she was alluded to, but she could have got +some useful hints in effects, for her judges were cosmopolitans who had +seen the most suggestive dancing in all parts of the world. It came out +incidentally that every one at table had been "over" in the course of the +season, not for any general purpose, not as a sightseer, but to look at +somebody's stables, or to attend a wedding, or a sale of etchings, or to +see his bootmaker, or for a little shooting in Scotland, just as one +might run down to Bar Harbor or Tuxedo. It was only an incident in a +busy season; and one of the fruits of it appeared to be as perfect a +knowledge of the comparative merits of all the ocean racers and captains +as of the English and American stables and the trainers. One not +informed of the progress of American life might have been surprised to +see that the fad is to be American, with a sort of patronage of things +and ways foreign, especially of things British, a large continental kind +of attitude, begotten of hearing much about Western roughing it, of +Alaska, of horse-breeding and fruit-raising on the Pacific, of the +Colorado River Canon. As for stuffs, well yes, London. As for style, +you can't mistake a man who is dressed in New York. + +The wine was a white Riesling from California. Docstater said his +attention had been called to it by Tom Dillingham at the Union, who had a +ranch somewhere out there. It was declared to be sound and palatable; +you know what you are drinking. This led to a learned discussion of the +future of American wines, and a patriotic impulse was given to the trade +by repeated orders. It was declared that in American wines lay the +solution of the temperance question. Bobby Simerton said that Burgundy +was good enough for him, but Russell put him down, as he saw the light +yellow through his glass, by the emphatic affirmation that plenty of +cheap American well-made wine would knock the bottom out of all the +sentimental temperance societies and shut up the saloons, dry up all +those not limited to light wines and beer. It was agreed that the +saloons would have to go. + +This satisfactory conclusion was reached before the coffee came on and +the cigarettes, and the sound quality of the Riesling was emphasized by a +pony of cognac. + +It is fortunate when the youth of a country have an ideal. No nation is +truly great without a common ideal, capable of evoking enthusiasm and +calling out its energies. And where are we to look for this if not in +the youth, and especially in those to whom fortune and leisure give an +opportunity of leadership ? It is they who can inspire by their example, +and by their pursuits attract others to a higher conception of the +national life. It may take the form of patriotism, as in this country, +pride in the great republic, jealousy of its honor and credit, eagerness +for its commanding position among the nations, patriotism which will show +itself, in all the ardor of believing youth, in the administration of +law, in the purity of politics, in honest local government, and in a +noble aspiration for the glory of the country. It may take the form of +culture, of a desire that the republic-liable, like all self-made +nations, to worship wealth-should be distinguished not so much by a +vulgar national display as by an advance in the arts, the sciences, the +education that adorns life, in the noble spirit of humanity, and in the +nobler spirit of recognition of a higher life, which will be content with +no civilization that does not tend to make the country for every citizen +a better place to live in today than it was yesterday. Happy is the +country, happy the metropolis of that country, whose fortunate young men +have this high conception of citizenship! + +What is the ideal of their country which these young men cherish? There +was a moment--was there not for them? --in the late war for the Union, +when the republic was visible to them in its beauty, in its peril, and in +a passion of devotion they were eager--were they not?--to follow the flag +and to give their brief lives to its imperishable glory. Nothing is +impossible to a nation with an ideal like that. It was this flame that +ran over Europe in the struggle of France against a world in arms. It +was this national ideal that was incarnate in Napoleon, as every great +idea that moves the world is sooner or later incarnated. What was it +that we saw in Washington on his knees at Valley Forge, or blazing with +wrath at the cowardice on Monmouth? in Lincoln entering Richmond with +bowed head and infinite sorrow and yearning in his heart? An embodiment +of a great national idea and destiny. + +In France this ideal burns yet like a flame, and is still evoked by a +name. It is the passion of glory, but the desire of a nation, and +Napoleon was the incarnation of passion. They say that he is not dead as +others are dead, but that he may come again and ride at the head of his +legions, and strike down the enemies of France; that his bugle will call +the youth from every hamlet, that the roll of his drum will transform +France into a camp, and the grenadiers will live again and ride with him, +amid hurrahs, and streaming tears, and shouts of "My Emperor! Oh, my +Emperor!" Is it only a legend? But the spirit is there; not a boy but +dreams of it, not a girl but knots the thought in with her holiday +tricolor. That is to have an abiding ideal, and patiently to hold it, in +isolation, in defeat, even in an overripe civilization. + +We believe--do we not?--in other triumphs than those of the drum and the +sword. Our aspirations for the republic are for a nobler example of +human society than the world has yet seen. Happy is the country, and the +metropolis of the country, whose youth, gilded only by their virtues, +have these aspirations). + +When the party broke up, the street lamps were beginning to twinkle here +and there, and Jack discovered to his surprise that the Twiss business +would have to go over to another day. It was such a hurrying life in New +York. There was just time for a cup of tea at Mrs. Trafton's. Everybody +dropped in there after five o'clock, when the duties of the day were +over, with the latest news, and to catch breath before rushing into the +program of the evening. + +There were a dozen ladies in the drawing-room when Jack entered, and his +first impression was that the scream of conversation would be harder to +talk against than a Wagner opera; but he presently got his cup of tea, +and found a snug seat in the chimney-corner by Miss Tavish; indeed, they +moved to it together, and so got a little out of the babel. Jack thought +the girl looked even prettier in her walking-dress than when he saw her +at the studio; she had style, there was no doubt about that; and then, +while there was no invitation in her manner, one felt that she was a +woman to whom one could easily say things, and who was liable at any +moment to say things interesting herself. + +"Is this your first appearance since last night, Mr. Delancy?" + +"Oh no; I've been racing about on errands all day. It is very restful to +sit down by a calm person." + +"Well, I never shut my eyes till nine o'clock. I kept seeing that +Spanish woman whirl around and contort, and--do you mind my telling you? +--I couldn't just help it, I" (leaning forward to Jack) "got up and tried +it before the glass. There! Are you shocked?" + +"Not so much shocked as excluded," Jack dared to say. "But do you +think--". + +"Yes, I know. There isn't anything that an American girl cannot do. +I've made up my mind to try it. You'll see." + +"Will I?" + +"No, you won't. Don't flatter yourself. Only girls. I don't want men +around." + +"Neither do I," said Jack, honestly. + +Miss Tavish laughed. "You are too forward, Mr. Delancy. Perhaps some +time, when we have learned, we will let in a few of you, to look in at +the door, fifty dollars a ticket, for some charity. I don't see why +dancing isn't just as good an accomplishment as playing the harp in a +Greek dress." + +"Nor do I; I'd rather see it. Besides, you've got Scripture warrant for +dancing off the heads of people. And then it is such a sweet way of +doing a charity. Dancing for the East Side is the best thing I have +heard yet." + +"You needn't mock. You won't when you find out what it costs you." + +"What are you two plotting?" asked Mrs. Trafton, coming across to the +fireplace. + +"Charity," said Jack, meekly. + +"Your wife was here this morning to get me to go and see some of her +friends in Hester Street." + +"You went?" + +"Not today. It's awfully interesting, but I've been." + +"Edith seems to be devoted to that sort of thing," remarked Miss Tavish. + +"Yes," said Jack, slowly, "she's got the idea that sympathy is better +than money; she says she wants to try to understand other people's +lives." + +"Goodness knows, I'd like to understand my own." + +"And were you trying, Mr. Delancy, to persuade Miss Tavish into that sort +of charity?" + +"Oh dear, no," said Jack; "I was trying to interest the East End in +something, for the benefit of Miss Tavish." + +"You'll find that's one of the most expensive remarks you ever made," +retorted Miss Tavish, rising to go. + +"I wish Lily Tavish would marry," said Mrs. Trafton, watching the girl's +slender figure as it passed through the portiere; "she doesn't know what +to do with herself." + +Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, she'd be a lovely wife for somebody; +"and then he added, as if reminiscently, "if he could afford it. Good- +by." + +"That's just a fashion of talking. I never knew a time when so many +people afforded to do what they wanted to do. But you men are all alike. +Good-by." + +When Jack reached home it was only a little after six o'clock, and as +they were not to go out to dine till eight, he had a good hour to rest +from the fatigues of the day, and run over the evening papers and dip +into the foreign periodicals to catch a topic or two for the dinner- +table. + +"Yes, sir," said the maid, " Mrs. Delancy came in an hour ago." + + + + +IV + +Edith's day had been as busy as Jack's, notwithstanding she had put aside +several things that demanded her attention. She denied herself the +morning attendance on the Literature Class that was raking over the +eighteenth century. This week Swift was to be arraigned. The last time +when Edith was present it was Steele. The judgment, on the whole, had +been favorable, and there had been a little stir of tenderness among the +bonnets over Thackeray's comments on the Christian soldier. It seemed to +bring him near to them. "Poor Dick Steele!" said the essayist. Edith +declared afterwards that the large woman who sat next to her, Mrs. Jerry +Hollowell, whispered to her that she always thought his name was +Bessemer; but this was, no doubt, a pleasantry. It was a beautiful +essay, and so stimulating! And then there was bouillon, and time to look +about at the toilets. Poor Steele, it would have cheered his life to +know that a century after his death so many beautiful women, so +exquisitely dressed, would have been concerning themselves about him. +The function lasted two hours. Edith made a little calculation. In five +minutes she could have got from the encyclopaedia all the facts in the +essay, and while her maid was doing her hair she could have read five +times as much of Steele as the essayist read. And, somehow, she was not +stimulated, for the impression seemed to prevail that now Steele was +disposed of. And she had her doubts whether literature would, after all, +prove to be a permanent social distraction. But Edith may have been too +severe in her judgment. There was probably not a woman in the class that +day who did not go away with the knowledge that Steele was an author, and +that he lived in the eighteenth century. The hope for the country is in +the diffusion of knowledge. + +Leaving the class to take care of Swift, Edith went to the managers' +meeting at the Women's Hospital, where there was much to do of very +practical work, pitiful cases of women and children suffering through no +fault of their own, and money more difficult to raise than sympathy. +The meeting took time and thought. Dismissing her carriage, and relying +on elevated and surface cars, Edith then took a turn on the East Side, +in company with a dispensary physician whose daily duty called her into +the worst parts of the town. She had a habit of these tours before her +marriage, and, though they were discouragingly small in direct results, +she gained a knowledge of city life that was of immense service in her +general charity work. Jack had suggested the danger of these excursions, +but she had told him that a woman was less liable to insult in the East +Side than in Fifth Avenue, especially at twilight, not because the East +Side was a nice quarter of the city, but because it was accustomed to see +women who minded their own business go about unattended, and the prowlers +had not the habit of going there. She could even relate cases of +chivalrous protection of "ladies" in some of the worst streets. + +What Edith saw this day, open to be seen, was not so much sin as +ignorance of how to live, squalor, filthy surroundings acquiesced in as +the natural order, wonderful patience in suffering and deprivation, +incapacity, ill-paid labor, the kindest spirit of sympathy and +helpfulness of the poor for each other. Perhaps that which made the +deepest impression on her was the fact that such conditions of living +could seem natural to those in them, and that they could get so much +enjoyment of life in situations that would have been simple misery to +her. + +The visitors were in a foreign city. The shop signs were in foreign +tongues; in some streets all Hebrew. On chance news-stands were +displayed newspapers in Russian, Bohemian, Arabic, Italian, Hebrew, +Polish, German-none in English. The theatre bills were in Hebrew or +other unreadable type. The sidewalks and the streets swarmed with noisy +dealers in every sort of second-hand merchandise--vegetables that had +seen a better day, fish in shoals. It was not easy to make one's way +through the stands and push-carts and the noisy dickering buyers and +sellers, who haggled over trifles and chaffed good-naturedly and were +strictly intent on their own affairs. No part of the town is more +crowded or more industrious. If youth is the hope of the country, the +sight was encouraging, for children were in the gutters, on the house +steps, at all the windows. The houses seemed bursting with humanity, +and in nearly every room of the packed tenements, whether the inmates +were sick or hungry, some sort of industry was carried on. In the damp +basements were junk-dealers, rag-pickers, goose-pickers. In one noisome +cellar, off an alley, among those sorting rags, was an old woman of +eighty-two, who could reply to questions only in a jargon, too proud to +beg, clinging to life, earning a few cents a day in this foul occupation. +But life is sweet even with poverty and rheumatism and eighty years. +Did her dull eyes, turning inward, see the Carpathian Hills, a free +girlhood in village drudgery and village sports, then a romance of love, +children, hard work, discontent, emigration to a New World of promise? +And now a cellar by day, the occupation of cutting rags for carpets, and +at night a corner in a close and crowded room on a flock bed not fit for +a dog. And this was a woman's life. + +Picturesque foreign women going about with shawls over their heads and +usually a bit of bright color somewhere, children at their games, hawkers +loudly crying their stale wares, the click of sewing-machines heard +through a broken window, everywhere animation, life, exchange of rough or +kindly banter. Was it altogether so melancholy as it might seem? Not +everybody was hopelessly poor, for here were lawyers' signs and doctors' +signs--doctors in whom the inhabitants had confidence because they +charged all they could get for their services--and thriving pawnbrokers' +shops. There were parish schools also--perhaps others; and off some dark +alley, in a room on the ground-floor, could be heard the strident noise +of education going on in high-voiced study and recitation. Nor were +amusements lacking --notices of balls, dancing this evening, and ten-cent +shows in palaces of legerdemain and deformity. + +It was a relenting day in March; patches of blue sky overhead, and the +sun had some quality in its shining. The children and the caged birds at +the open windows felt it-and there were notes of music here and there +above the traffic and the clamor. Turning down a narrow alley, with a +gutter in the centre, attracted by festive sounds, the visitors came into +a small stone-paved court with a hydrant in the centre surrounded by tall +tenement-houses, in the windows of which were stuffed the garments that +would no longer hold together to adorn the person. Here an Italian girl +and boy, with a guitar and violin, were recalling la bella Napoli, and a +couple of pretty girls from the court were footing it as merrily as if it +were the grape harvest. A woman opened a lower room door and sharply +called to one of the dancing girls to come in, when Edith and the doctor +appeared at the bottom of the alley, but her tone changed when she +recognized the doctor, and she said, by way of apology, that she didn't +like her daughter to dance before strangers. So the music and the dance +went on, even little dots of girls and boys shuffling about in a stiff- +legged fashion, with applause from all the windows, and at last a +largesse of pennies--as many as five altogether--for the musicians. +And the sun fell lovingly upon the pretty scene. + +But then there were the sweaters' dens, and the private rooms where half +a dozen pale-faced tailors stitched and pressed fourteen and sometimes +sixteen hours a day, stifling rooms, smelling of the hot goose and +steaming cloth, rooms where they worked, where the cooking was done, +where they ate, and late at night, when overpowered with weariness, lay +down to sleep. Struggle for life everywhere, and perhaps no more +discontent and heart-burning and certainly less ennui than in the palaces +on the avenues. + +The residence of Karl Mulhaus, one of the doctor's patients, was typical +of the homes of the better class of poor. The apartment fronted on a +small and not too cleanly court, and was in the third story. As Edith +mounted the narrow and dark stairways she saw the plan of the house. +Four apartments opened upon each landing, in which was the common hydrant +and sink. The Mulhaus apartment consisted of a room large enough to +contain a bed, a cook-stove, a bureau, a rocking-chair, and two other +chairs, and it had two small windows, which would have more freely +admitted the southern sun if they had been washed, and a room adjoining, +dark, and nearly filled by a big bed. On the walls of the living room +were hung highly colored advertising chromos of steamships and palaces of +industry, and on the bureau Edith noticed two illustrated newspapers of +the last year, a patent-medicine almanac, and a volume of Schiller. The +bureau also held Mr. Mulhaus's bottles of medicine, a comb which needed a +dentist, and a broken hair-brush. What gave the room, however, a +cheerful aspect were some pots of plants on the window-ledges, and half a +dozen canary-bird cages hung wherever there was room for them. + +None of the family happened to be at home except Mr. Mulhaus, who +occupied the rocking-chair, and two children, a girl of four years and a +boy of eight, who were on the floor playing "store" with some blocks of +wood, a few tacks, some lumps of coal, some scraps of paper, and a tangle +of twine. In their prattle they spoke, the English they had learned from +their brother who was in a store. + +"I feel some better today," said Mr. Mulhaus, brightening up as the +visitors entered, "but the cough hangs on. It's three months since this +weather that I haven't been out, but the birds are a good deal of +company." He spoke in German, and with effort. He was very thin and +sallow, and his large feverish eyes added to the pitiful look of his +refined face. The doctor explained to Edith that he had been getting +fair wages in a type-foundry until he had become too weak to go any +longer to the shop. + +It was rather hard to have to sit there all day, he explained to the +doctor, but they were getting along. Mrs. Mulhaus had got a job of +cleaning that day; that would be fifty cents. Ally--she was twelve--was +learning to sew. That was her afternoon to go to the College Settlement. +Jimmy, fourteen, had got a place in a store, and earned two dollars a +week. + +"And Vicky?" asked the doctor. + +"Oh, Vicky," piped up the eight-year-old boy. "Vicky's up to the +'stution"--the hospital was probably the institution referred to--" ever +so long now. I seen her there, me and Jim did. Such a bootifer place! +'Nd chicken!" he added. "Sis got hurt by a cart." + +Vicky was seventeen, and had been in a fancy store. + +"Yes," said Mulhaus, in reply to a question, "it pays pretty well raising +canaries, when they turn out singers. I made fifteen dollars last year. +I hain't sold much lately. Seems 's if people stopped wanting 'em such +weather. I guess it 'll be better in the spring." + +"No doubt it will be better for the poor fellow himself before spring," +said the doctor as they made their way down the dirty stairways. "Now +I'll show you one of my favorites." + +They turned into a broader street, one of the busy avenues, and passing +under an archway between two tall buildings, entered a court of back +buildings. In the third story back lived Aunt Margaret. The room was +scarcely as big as a ship's cabin, and its one window gave little light, +for it opened upon a narrow well of high brick walls. In the only chair +Aunt Margaret was seated close to the window. In front of her was a +small work-table, with a kerosene lamp on it, but the side of the room +towards which she looked was quite occupied by a narrow couch- +ridiculously narrow, for Aunt Margaret was very stout. There was a thin +chest of drawers on the other side, and the small coal stove that stood +in the centre so nearly filled the remaining space that the two visitors +were one too many. + +"Oh, come in, come in," said the old lady, cheerfully, when the door +opened. "I'm glad to see you." + +"And how goes it?" asked the doctor. + +"First rate. I'm coming on, doctor. Work's been pretty slack for two +weeks now, but yesterday I got work for two days. I guess it will be +better now." + +The work was finishing pantaloons. It used to be a good business before +there was so much cutting in. + +"I used to get fifteen cents a pair, then ten; now they don't pay but +five. Yes, the shop furnishes the thread." + +"And how many pairs can you finish in a day?" asked Edith. + +"Three--three pairs, to do 'em nice--and they are very particular--if I +work from six in the morning till twelve at night. I could do more, but +my sight ain't what it used to be, and I've broken my specs." + +"So you earn fifteen cents a day?" + +"When I've the luck to get work, my lady. Sometimes there isn't any. +And things cost so much. The rent is the worst." + +It appeared that the rent was two dollars and a half a month. That must +be paid, at any rate. Edith made a little calculation that on a flush +average of ninety cents a week earned, and allowing so many cents for +coal and so many cents for oil, the margin for bread and tea must be +small for the month. She usually bought three cents' worth of tea at a +time. + +"It is kinder close," said the old lady, with a smile. "The worst is, +my feet hurt me so I can't stir out. But the neighbors is real kind. +The little boy next room goes over to the shop and fetches my pantaloons +and takes 'em back. I can get along if it don't come slack again." + +Sitting all day by that dim window, half the night stitching by a +kerosene lamp; lying for six hours on that narrow couch! How to account +for this old soul's Christian resignation and cheerfulness! "For," said +the doctor, "she has seen better days; she has moved in high society; her +husband, who died twenty years ago, was a policeman. What the old lady +is doing is fighting for her independence. She has only one fear--the +almshouse." + +It was with such scenes as these in her eyes that Edith went to her +dressing-room to make her toilet for the Henderson dinner. + + + + +V + +It was the first time they had dined with the Hendersons. It was Jack's +doings. "Certainly, if you wish it," Edith had said when the invitation +came. The unmentioned fact was that Jack had taken a little flier in +Oshkosh, and a hint from Henderson one evening at the Union, when the +venture looked squally, had let him out of a heavy loss into a small +profit, and Jack felt grateful. + +"I wonder how Henderson came to do it?" Jack was querying, as he and old +Fairfax sipped their five-o'clock "Manhattan." + +"Oh, Henderson likes to do a good-natured thing still, now and then. +Do you know his wife?" + +"No. Who was she?" + +"Why, old Eschelle's daughter, Carmen; of course you wouldn't know; that +was ten years ago. There was a good deal of talk about it at the time." + +"How?" + +"Some said they'd been good friends before Mrs. Henderson's death." + +"Then Carmen, as you call her, wasn't the first?" + +"No, but she was an easy second. She's a social climber; bound to get +there from the start." + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Devilish. She's a little thing. I saw her once at Homburg, on the +promenade with her mother. + +"The kind of sweet blonde, I said to myself, that would mix a man up in a +duel before he knew where he was." + +"She must be interesting." + +"She was always clever, and she knows enough to play a straight game and +when to propitiate. I'll bet a five she tells Henderson whom to be good +to when the chance offers." + +"Then her influence on him is good?" + +"My dear sir, she gets what she wants, and Henderson is going to the . . +. well, look at the lines in his face. I've known Henderson since he +came fresh into the Street. He'd rarely knife a friend when his first +wife was living. Now, when you see the old frank smile on his face, it's +put on." + +It was half-past eight when Mr. Henderson with Mrs. Delancy on his arm +led the way to the diningroom. The procession was closed by Mrs. +Henderson and Mr. Delancy. The Van Dams were there, and Mrs. Chesney and +the Chesney girls, and Miss Tavish, who sat on Jack's right, but the rest +of the guests were unknown to Jack, except by name. There was a strong +dash of the Street in the mixture, and although the Street was tabooed in +the talk, there was such an emanation of aggressive prosperity at the +table that Jack said afterwards that he felt as if he had been at a +meeting of the board. + +If Jack had known the house ten years ago, he would have noticed certain +subtle changes in it, rather in the atmosphere than in many alterations. +The newness and the glitter of cost had worn off. It might still be +called a palace, but the city had now a dozen handsomer houses, and +Carmen's idea, as she expressed it, was to make this more like a home. +She had made it like herself. There were pictures on the walls that +would not have hung there in the late Mrs. Henderson's time; and the +prevailing air was that of refined sensuousness. Life, she said, was her +idea, life in its utmost expression, untrammeled, and yes, a little +Greek. Freedom was perhaps the word, and yet her latest notion was +simplicity. The dinner was simple. Her dress was exceedingly simple, +save that it had in it somewhere a touch of audacity, revealing in a +flash of invitation the hidden nature of the woman. She knew herself +better than any one knew her, except Henderson, and even he was forced to +laugh when she travestied Browning in saying that she had one soul-side +to face the world with, one to show the man she loved, and she declared +he was downright coarse when on going out of the door he muttered, "But +it needn't be the seamy side." The reported remark of some one who had +seen her at church that she looked like a nun made her smile, but she +broke into a silvery laugh when she head Van Dam's comment on it, "Yes, +a devil of a nun." + +The library was as cozy as ever, but did not appear to be used much as a +library. Henderson, indeed, had no time to add to his collection or +enjoy it. Most of the books strewn on the tables were French novels or +such American tales as had the cachet of social riskiness. But Carmen +liked the room above all others. She enjoyed her cigarette there, and +had a fancy for pouring her five-o'clock tea in its shelter. Books which +had all sorts of things in them gave somehow an unconventional atmosphere +to the place, and one could say things there that one couldn't say in a +drawing-room. + +Henderson himself, it must be confessed, had grown stout in the ten +years, and puffy under the eyes. There were lines of irritation in his +face and lines of weariness. He had not kept the freshness of youth so +well as Carmen, perhaps because of his New England conscience. To his +guest he was courteous, seemed to be making an effort to be so, and +listened with well-assumed interest to the story of her day's pilgrimage. +At length he said, with a smile, "Life seems to interest you, Mrs. +Delancy." + +"Yes, indeed," said Edith, looking up brightly; "doesn't it you?" + +"Why, yes; not life exactly, but things, doing things--conflict." + +"Yes, I can understand that. There is so much to be done for everybody." + +Henderson looked amused. "You know in the city the gospel is that +everybody is to be done." + +"Well," said Edith, not to be diverted, "but, Mr. Henderson, what is it +all for--this ,conflict? Perhaps, however, you are fighting the devil?" + +"Yes, that's it; the devil is usually the other fellow. But, Mrs. +Delancy," added Henderson, with an accent of seriousness, "I don't know +what it's all for. I doubt if there is much in it." + +"And yet the world credits you with finding a great deal in it." + +"The world is generally wrong. Do you understand poker, Mrs. Delancy? +No! Of course you do not. But the interest of the game isn't so much in +the cards as in the men." + +"I thought it was the stakes." + +"Perhaps so. But you want to win for the sake of winning. If I gambled +it would be a question of nerve. I suppose that which we all enjoy is +the exercise of skill in winning." + +"And not for the sake of doing anything--just winning? Don't you get +tired of that?" asked Edith, quite simply. + +There was something in Edith's sincerity, in her fresh enthusiasm about +life, that appeared to strike a reminiscent note in Henderson. Perhaps +he remembered another face as sweet as hers, and ideals, faint and long +ago, that were once mixed with his ideas of success. At any rate, it was +with an accent of increased deference, and with a look she had not seen +in his face before, that he said: + +"People get tired of everything. I'm not sure but it would interest me +to see for a minute how the world looks through your eyes." And then he +added, in a different tone, "As to your East Side, Mrs. Henderson tried +that some years ago." + +"Wasn't she interested?" + +"Oh, very much. For a time. But she said there was too much of it." +And Edith could detect no tone of sarcasm in the remark. + +Down at the other end of the table, matters were going very smoothly. +Jack was charmed with his hostess. That clever woman had felt her way +along from the heresy trial, through Tuxedo and the Independent Theatre +and the Horse Show, until they were launched in a perfectly free +conversation, and Carmen knew that she hadn't to look out for thin ice. + +"Were you thinking of going on to the Conventional Club tonight, Mr. +Delancy?" she was saying. + +"I don't belong," said Jack. "Mrs. Delancy said she didn't care for it." + +"Oh, I don't care for it, for myself," replied Carmen. + +"I do," struck in Miss Tavish. "It's awfully nice." + +"Yes, it does seem to fill a want. Why, what do you do with your +evenings, Mr. Delancy?" + +"Well, here's one of them." + +"Yes, I know, but I mean between twelve o'clock and bedtime." + +"Oh," said Jack, laughing out loud, "I go to bed--sometimes." + +"Yes, 'there's always that. But you want some place to go to after the +theatres and the dinners; after the other places are shut up you want to +go somewhere and be amused." + +"Yes," said Jack, falling in, "it is a fact that there are not many +places of amusement for the rich; I understand. After the theatres you +want to be amused. This Conventional Club is--" + +"I tell you what it is. It's a sort of Midnight Mission for the rich. +They never have had anything of the kind in the city." + +"And it's very nice," said Miss Tavish, demurely. + +The performers are selected. You can see things there that you want to +see at other places to which you can't go. And everybody you know is +there." + +"Oh, I see," said Jack. "It's what the Independent Theatre is trying to +do, and what all the theatrical people say needs to be done, to elevate +the character of the audiences, and then the managers can give better +plays." + +"That's just it. We want to elevate the stage," Carmen explained. + +"But," continued Jack, "it seems to me that now the audience is select +and elevated, it wants to see the same sort of things it liked to see +before it was elevated." + +"You may laugh, Mr. Delancy," replied Carmen, throwing an earnest +simplicity into her eyes, "but why shouldn't women know what is going on +as well as men?" + +"And why," Miss Tavish asked, "will the serpentine dances and the London +topical songs do any more harm to women than to men?" + +"And besides, Mr. Delancy," Carmen said, chiming in, "isn't it just as +proper that women should see women dance and throw somersaults on the +stage as that men should see them? And then, you know, women are such a +restraining influence." + +"I hadn't thought of that," said Jack. "I thought the Conventional was +for the benefit of the audience, not for the salvation of the +performers." + +"It's both. It's life. Don't you think women ought to know life? How +are they to take their place in the world unless they know life as men +know it?" + +"I'm sure I don't know whose place they are to take, the serpentine +dancer's or mine," said Jack, as if he were studying a problem. "How +does your experiment get on, Miss Tavish?" + +Carmen looked up quickly. + +"Oh, I haven't any experiment," said Miss Tavish, shaking her head. +"It's just Mr. Delancy's nonsense." + +"I wish I had an experiment. There is so little for women to do. I wish +I knew what was right." And Carmen looked mournfully demure, as if life, +after all, were a serious thing with her. + +"Whatever Mrs. Henderson does is sure to be right," said Jack, gallantly. + +Carmen shot at him a quick sympathetic glance, tempered by a grateful +smile. "There are so many points of view." + +Jack felt the force of the remark as he did the revealing glance. And he +had a swift vision of Miss Tavish leading him a serpentine dance, and of +Carmen sweetly beckoning him to a pleasant point of view. After all it +doesn't much matter. Everything is in the point of view. + +After dinner and cigars and cigarettes in the library, the talk dragged a +little in duets. The dinner had been charming, the house was lovely, the +company was most agreeable. All said that. It had been so somewhere +else the night before that, and would be the next night. And the ennui +of it all! No one expressed it, but Henderson could not help looking it, +and Carmen saw it. That charming hostess had been devoting herself to +Edith since dinner. She was so full of sympathy with the East-Side work, +asked a hundred questions about it, and declared that she must take it up +again. She would order a cage of canaries from that poor German for her +kitchen. It was such a beautiful idea. But Edith did not believe in her +one bit. She told Jack afterwards that "Mrs. Henderson cares no more for +the poor of New York than she does for--" + +"Henderson?" suggested Jack. + +"Oh, I don't know anything about that. Henderson has only one idea--to +get the better of everybody, and be the money king of New York. But I +should not wonder if he had once a soft spot in his heart. He is better +than she is." + +It was still early, lacked half an hour of midnight, and the night was +before them. Some one proposed the Conventional. "Yes," said Carmen; +"all come to our box." The Van Dams would go, Miss Tavish, the Chesneys; +the suggestion was a relief to everybody. Only Mr. Henderson pleaded +important papers that must have his attention that night. Edith said +that she was too tired, but that her desertion must not break up the +party. + +"Then you will excuse me also," said Jack, a little shade of +disappointment in his face. + +"No, no," said Edith, quickly; "you can drop me on the way. Go, by all +means, Jack." + +"Do you really want me to go, dear?" said Jack, aside. + +"Why of course; I want you to be happy." + +And Jack recalled the loving look that accompanied these words, later on, +as he sat in the Henderson box at the Conventional, between Carmen and +Miss Tavish, and saw, through the slight haze of smoke, beyond the +orchestra, the praiseworthy efforts of the Montana Kicker, who had just +returned with the imprimatur of Paris, to relieve the ennui of the modern +world. + +The complex affair we call the world requires a great variety of people +to keep it going. At one o'clock in the morning Carmen and our friend +Mr. Delancy and Miss Tavish were doing their part. Edith lay awake +listening for Jack's return. And in an alley off Rivington Street a +young girl, pretty once, unknown to fortune but not to fame, was about to +render the last service she could to the world by leaving it. + +The impartial historian scarcely knows how to distribute his pathos. +By the electric light (and that is the modern light) gayety is almost as +pathetic as suffering. Before the Montana girl hit upon the happy device +that gave her notoriety, her feet, whose every twinkle now was worth a +gold eagle, had trod a thorny path. There was a fortune now in the whirl +of her illusory robes, but any day--such are the whims of fashion--she +might be wandering again, sick at heart, about the great city, knocking +at the side doors of variety shows for any engagement that would give her +a pittance of a few dollars a week. How long had Carmen waited on the +social outskirts; and now she had come into her kingdom, was she anything +but a tinsel queen? Even Henderson, the great Henderson, did the friends +of his youth respect him? had he public esteem? Carmen used to cut out +the newspaper paragraphs that extolled Henderson's domestic virtue and +his generosity to his family, and show them to her lord, with a queer +smile on her face. Miss Tavish, in the nervous consciousness of fleeting +years, was she not still waiting, dashing here and there like a bird in a +net for the sort of freedom, audacious as she was, that seemed denied +her? She was still beautiful, everybody said, and she was sought and +flattered, because she was always merry and good-natured. Why should Van +Dam, speaking of women, say that there were horses that had been set up, +and checked up and trained, that held their heads in an aristocratic +fashion, moved elegantly, and showed style, long after the spirit had +gone out of them? And Jack himself, happily married, with a comfortable +income, why was life getting flat to him? What sort of career was it +that needed the aid of Carmen and the serpentine dancer? And why not, +since it is absolutely necessary that the world should be amused? + +We are in no other world when we enter the mean tenement in the alley off +Rivington Street. Here also is the life of the town. The room is small, +but it contains a cook-stove, a chest of drawers, a small table, a couple +of chairs, and two narrow beds. On the top of the chest are a looking- +glass, some toilet articles, and bottles of medicine. The cracked walls +are bare and not clean. In one of the beds are two children, sleeping +soundly, and on the foot of it is a middle-aged woman, in a soiled woolen +gown with a thin figured shawl drawn about her shoulders, a dirty cap +half concealing her frowzy hair; she looks tired and worn and sleepy. +On the other bed lies a girl of twenty years, a woman in experience. +The kerosene lamp on the stand at the head of the bed casts a spectral +light on her flushed face, and the thin arms that are restlessly thrown +outside the cover. By the bedside sits the doctor, patient, silent, and +watchful. The doctor puts her hand caressingly on that of the girl. +It is hot and dry. The girl opens her eyes with a startled look, and +says, feebly: + +"Do you think he will come?" + +"Yes, dear, presently. He never fails." + +The girl closed her eyes again, and there was silence. The dim rays of +the lamp, falling upon the doctor, revealed the figure of a woman of less +than medium size, perhaps of the age of thirty or more, a plain little +body, you would have said, who paid the slightest possible attention to +her dress, and when she went about the city was not to be distinguished +from a working-woman. Her friends, indeed, said that she had not the +least care for her personal appearance, and unless she was watched, she +was sure to go out in her shabbiest gown and most battered hat. She wore +tonight a brown ulster and a nondescript black bonnet drawn close down on +her head and tied with black strings. In her lap lay her leathern bag, +which she usually carried under her arm, that contained medicines, lint, +bandages, smelling-salts, a vial of ammonia, and so on; to her patients +it was a sort of conjurer's bag, out of which she could produce anything +that an emergency called for. + +Dr. Leigh was not in the least nervous or excited. Indeed, an artist +would not have painted her as a rapt angelic visitant to this abode of +poverty. This contact with poverty and coming death was quite in her +ordinary experience. It would never have occurred to her that she was +doing anything unusual, any more than it would have occurred to the +objects of her ministrations to overwhelm her with thanks. They trusted +her, that was all. They met her always with a pleasant recognition. +She belonged perhaps to their world. Perhaps they would have said that +"Dr. Leigh don't handsome much," but their idea was that her face was +good. That was what anybody would have said who saw her tonight, "She +has such a good face;" the face of a woman who knew the world, and +perhaps was not very sanguine about it, had few illusions and few +antipathies, but accepted it, and tried in her humble way to alleviate +its hardships, without any consciousness of having a mission or making a +sacrifice. + +Dr. Leigh--Miss Ruth Leigh--was Edith's friend. She had not come from +the country with an exalted notion of being a worker among the poor about +whom so much was written; she had not even descended from some high +circle in the city into this world, moved by a restless enthusiasm for +humanity. She was a woman of the people, to adopt a popular phrase. +From her childhood she had known them, their wants, their sympathies, +their discouragements; and in her heart--though you would not discover +this till you had known her long and well--there was a burning sympathy +with them, a sympathy born in her, and not assumed for the sake of having +a career. It was this that had impelled her to get a medical education, +which she obtained by hard labor and self-denial. To her this was not a +means of livelihood, but simply that she might be of service to those all +about her who needed help more than she did. She didn't believe in +charity, this stout-hearted, clearheaded little woman; she meant to make +everybody pay for her medical services who could pay; but somehow her +practice was not lucrative, and the little salary she got as a dispensary +doctor melted away with scarcely any perceptible improvement in her own +wardrobe. Why, she needed nothing, going about as she did. + +She sat--now waiting for the end; and the good face, so full of sympathy +for the living, had no hope in it. Just another human being had come to +the end of her path--the end literally. It was so everyday. Somebody +came to the end, and there was nothing beyond. Only it was the end, and +that was peace. One o'clock--half-past one. The door opened softly. +The old woman rose from the foot of the bed with a start and a low +"Herr! gross Gott." It was Father Damon. The girl opened her eyes with +a frightened look at first, and then an eager appeal. Dr. Leigh rose to +make room for him at the bedside. They bowed as he came forward, and +their eyes met. She shook her head. In her eyes was no expectation, no +hope. In his was the glow of faith. But the eyes of the girl rested +upon his face with a rapt expression. It was as if an angel had entered +the room. + +Father Damon was a young man, not yet past thirty, slender, erect. +He had removed as he came in his broad-brimmed soft hat. The hair was +close-cut, but not tonsured. He wore a brown cassock, falling in +straight lines, and confined at the waist with a white cord. From his +neck depended from a gold chain a large gold cross. His face was smooth- +shaven, thin, intellectual, or rather spiritual; the nose long, the mouth +straight, the eyes deep gray, sometimes dreamy and puzzling, again +glowing with an inner fervor. A face of long vigils and the schooled +calmness of repressed energy. You would say a fanatic of God, with a +dash of self-consciousness. Dr. Leigh knew him well. They met often on +their diverse errands, and she liked, when she could, to go to vespers in +the little mission chapel of St. Anselm, where he ministered. It was not +the confessional that attracted her, that was sure; perhaps not +altogether the service, though that was soothing in certain moods; but it +was the noble personality of Father Damon. He was devoted to the people +as she was, he understood them; and for the moment their passion of +humanity assumed the same aspect, though she knew that what he saw, or +thought he saw, lay beyond her agnostic vision. + +Father Damon was an Englishman, a member of a London Anglican order, who +had taken the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, who had +been for some years in New York, and had finally come to live on the East +Side, where his work was. In a way he had identified himself with the +people; he attended their clubs; he was a Christian socialist; he spoke +on the inequalities of taxation; the strikers were pretty sure of his +sympathy; he argued the injustice of the present ownership of land. Some +said that he had joined a lodge of the Knights of Labor. Perhaps it was +these things, quite as much as his singleness of purpose and his +spiritual fervor, that drew Dr. Leigh to him with a feeling that verged +on devotion. The ladies up-town, at whose tables Father Damon was an +infrequent guest, were as fully in sympathy with this handsome and +aristocratic young priest, and thought it beautiful that he should devote +himself to the poor and the sinful; but they did not see why he should +adopt their views. + +It was at the mission that Father Damon had first seen the girl. She had +ventured in not long ago at twilight, with her cough and her pale face, +in a silk gown and flower-garden of a hat, and crept into one of the +confessional boxes, and told him her story. + +"Do you think, Father," said the girl, looking up wistfully, "that I can- +-can be forgiven?" + +Father Damon looked down sadly, pitifully. "Yes, my daughter, if you +repent. It is all with our Father. He never refuses." + +He knelt down, with his cross in his hand, and in a low voice repeated +the prayer for the dying. As the sweet, thrilling voice went on in +supplication the girl's eyes closed again, and a sweet smile played about +her mouth; it was the innocent smile of the little girl long ago, when +she might have awakened in the morning and heard the singing of birds at +her window. + +When Father Damon arose she seemed to be sleeping. They all stood in +silence for a moment. + +"You will remain?" he asked the doctor. + +"Yes," she said, with the faintest wan smile on her face. "It is I, you +know, who have care of the body." + +At the door he turned and said, quite low, "Peace be to this house!" + + + + +VI + +Father Damon came dangerously near to being popular. The austerity of +his life and his known self-chastening vigils contributed to this effect. +His severely formal, simple ecclesiastical dress, coarse in material but +perfect in its saintly lines, separated him from the world in which he +moved so unostentatiously and humbly, and marked him as one who went +about doing good. His life was that of self-absorption and hardship, +mortification of the body, denial of the solicitation of the senses, +struggling of the spirit for more holiness of purpose--a life of +supplication for the perishing souls about him. And yet he was so +informed with the modern spirit that he was not content, as a zealot +formerly might have been, to snatch souls out of the evil that is in the +world, but he strove to lessen the evil. He was a reformer. It was +probably this feature of his activity, and not his spiritual mission, +that attracted to him the little group of positivists on the East Side, +the demagogues of the labor lodges, the practical workers of the working- +girls' clubs, and the humanitarian agnostics like Dr. Leigh, who were +literally giving their lives without the least expectation of reward. +Even the refined ethical-culture groups had no sneer for Father Damon. +The little chapel of St. Anselm was well known. It was always open. +It was plain, but its plainness was not the barrenness of a non- +conformist chapel. There were two confessionals; a great bronze lamp +attached to one of the pillars scarcely dispelled the obscurity, but cast +an unnatural light upon the gigantic crucifix that hung from a beam in +front of the chancel. There were half a dozen rows of backless benches +in the centre of the chapel. The bronze lamp, and the candles always +burning upon the altar, rather accented than dissipated the heavy shadows +in the vaulted roof. At no hour was it empty, but at morning prayer and +at vespers the benches were apt to be filled, and groups of penitents or +spectators were kneeling or standing on the floor. At vespers there were +sure to be carriages in front of the door, and among the kneeling figures +were ladies who brought into these simple services for the poor something +of the refinement of grace as it is in the higher circles. Indeed, at +the hour set apart for confession, there were in the boxes saints from +up-town as well as sinners from the slums. Sometimes the sinners were +from up-town and the saints from the slums. + +When the organ sounded, and through a low door in the chancel the priest +entered, preceded by a couple of acolytes, and advanced swiftly to the +reading-desk, there was an awed hush in the congregation. One would not +dare to say that there was a sentimental feeling for the pale face and +rapt expression of the devotee. It was more than that. He had just come +from some scene of suffering, from the bed of one dying; he was weary +with watching. He was faint with lonely vigils; he was visibly carrying +the load of the poor and the despised. Even Ruth Leigh, who had dropped +in for half an hour in one of her daily rounds--even Ruth Leigh, who had +in her stanch, practical mind a contempt for forms and rituals, and no +faith in anything that she could not touch, and who at times was +indignant at the efforts wasted over the future of souls concerning which +no one knew anything, when there were so many bodies, which had inherited +disease and poverty and shame, going to worldly wreck before so-called +Christian eyes--even she could scarcely keep herself from adoring this +self-sacrificing spirit. The woes of humanity grieved him as they +grieved her, and she used to say she did not care what he believed so +long as he gave his life for the needy. + +It was when he advanced to the altar-rail to speak that the man best +appeared. His voice, which was usually low and full of melody, could be +something terrible when it rose in denunciation of sin. Those who had +traveled said that he had the manner of a preaching friar--the simple +language, so refined and yet so homely and direct, the real, the inspired +word, the occasional hastening torrent of words. When he had occasion to +address one of the societies of ladies for the promotion of something +among the poor, his style and manner were simplicity itself. One might +have said there was a shade of contempt in his familiar and not seldom +slightly humorous remarks upon society and its aims and aspirations, +about which he spoke plainly and vigorously. And this was what the +ladies liked. Especially when he referred to the pitifulness of class +distinctions, in the light of the example of our Lord, in our short +pilgrimage in this world. This unveiling and denunciation made them +somehow feel nearer to their work, and, indeed, while they sat there, +co-workers with this apostle of righteousness. + +Perhaps there was something in the priestly dress that affected not only +the congregation in the chapel, but all the neighborhood in which Father +Damon lived. There was in the long robe, with its feminine lines, an +assurance to the women that he was set apart and not as others were; and, +on the other hand, the semi-feminine suggestion of the straight-falling +garment may have had for the men a sort of appeal for defense and even +protection. It is certain, at any rate, that Father Damon had the +confidence of high and low, rich and poor. The forsaken sought him out, +the hungry went to him, the dying sent for him, the criminal knocked at +the door of his little room, even the rich reprobate would have opened +his bad heart to him sooner than to any one else. It is evident, +therefore, that Father Damon was dangerously near to being popular. +Human vanity will feed on anything within its reach, and there has been +discovered yet no situation that will not minister to its growth. +Suffering perhaps it prefers, and contumely and persecution. Are not +opposition, despiteful anger, slander even, rejection of men, stripes +even, if such there could be in these days, manna to the devout soul +consciously set apart for a mission? But success, obsequiousness, +applause, the love of women, the concurrent good opinion of all +humanitarians, are these not almost as dangerous as persecution? Father +Damon, though exalted in his calling, and filled with a burning zeal, +was a sincere man, and even his eccentricities of saintly conduct +expressed to his mind only the high purpose of self-sacrifice. Yet he +saw, he could not but see, the spiritual danger in this rising tide of +adulation. He fought against its influence, he prayed against it, +he tried to humiliate himself, and his very humiliations increased the +adulation. He was perplexed, almost ashamed, and examined himself to see +how it was that he himself seemed to be thwarting his own work. +Sometimes he withdrew from it for a week together, and buried himself in +a retreat in the upper part of the island. Alas! did ever a man escape +himself in a retreat? It made him calm for the moment. But why was it, +he asked himself, that he had so many followers, his religion so few? +Why was it, he said, that all the humanitarians, the reformers, the +guilds, the ethical groups, the agnostics, the male and female knights, +sustained him, and only a few of the poor and friendless knocked, by his +solicitation, at the supernatural door of life? How was it that a woman +whom he encountered so often, a very angel of mercy, could do the things +he was doing, tramping about in the misery and squalor of the great city +day and night, her path unilluminated by a ray from the future life? + +Perhaps he had been remiss in his duty. Perhaps he was letting a vague +philanthropy take the place of a personal solicitude for individual +souls. The elevation of the race! What had the land question to do with +the salvation of man? Suppose everybody on the East Side should become +as industrious, as self-denying, as unselfish as Ruth Leigh, and yet +without belief, without hope! He had accepted the humanitarian situation +with her, and never had spoken to her of the eternal life. What +unfaithfulness to his mission and to her! It should be so no longer. + +It was after one of his weeks of retreat, at the close of vesper service, +that Dr. Leigh came to him. He had been saying in his little talk that +poverty is no excuse for irreligion, and that all aid in the hardship of +this world was vain and worthless unless the sinner laid hold on eternal +life. Dr. Leigh, who was laboring with a serious practical problem, +heard this coldly, and with a certain contempt for what seemed to her a +vague sort of consolation. + +"Well," he said, when she came to him in the vestry, with a drop from the +rather austere manner in which he had spoken, "what can I do for you?" + +"For me, nothing, Father Damon. I thought perhaps you would go round +with me to see a pretty bad case. It is in your parish." + +"Ah, did they send for me? Do they want spiritual help?" + +"First the natural, then the spiritual," she replied, with a slight tone +of sarcasm in her voice. "That's just like a priest," she was thinking. +"I do not know what to do, and something must be done." + +"Did you report to the Associated Charities?" + +"Yes. But there's a hitch somewhere. The machine doesn't take hold. +The man says he doesn't want any charity, any association, treating him +like a pauper. He's off peddling; but trade is bad, and he's been away a +week. I'm afraid he drinks a little." + +"Well?" + +"The mother is sick in bed. I found her trying to do some fine +stitching, but she was too weak to hold up the muslin. There are five +young children. The family never has had help before." + +Father Damon put on his hat, and they went out together, and for some +time picked their way along the muddy streets in silence. + +At length he asked, in a softened voice, "Is the mother a Christian?" + +"I didn't ask," she replied shortly. "I found her crying because the +children were hungry." + +Father Damon, still under the impression of his neglect of duty, did not +heed her warning tone, but persisted, "You have so many opportunities, +Dr. Leigh, in your visits of speaking a word." + +"About what?" she asked, refusing to understand, and hardened at the +slightest sign of what she called cant. + +"About the necessity of repentance and preparation for another life," he +answered, softly but firmly. "You surely do not think human beings are +created just for this miserable little experience here?" + +"I don't know. I have too much to do with the want and suffering I see +to raise anxieties about a world of which no one can possibly know +anything." + +"Pardon me," he persisted, "have you no sense of incompleteness in this +life, in your own life? no inward consciousness of an undying +personality?" + +The doctor was angry for a moment at this intrusion. It had seemed +natural enough for Father Damon to address his exhortations to the poor +and sinful of his mission. She admired his spirit, she had a certain +sympathy with him; for who could say that ministering to minds diseased +might not have a physical influence to lift these people into a more +decent and prosperous way of living? She had thought of herself as +working with him to a common end. But for him now to turn upon her, +absolutely ignoring the solid, rational, and scientific ground on which +he knew, or should know, she stood, and to speak to her as one of the +"lost," startled her, and filled her with indignation. She had on her +lips a sarcastic reply to the effect that even if she had a soul, she had +not taken up her work in the city as a means of saving it; but she was +not given to sarcasm, and before she spoke she looked at her companion, +and saw in the eyes a look of such genuine humble feeling, contradicting +the otherwise austere expression of his face, that her momentary +bitterness passed away. + +"I think, Father Damon," she said, gently, "we had better not talk of +that. I don't have much time for theorizing, you know, nor much +inclination," she added. + +The priest saw that for the present he could make no progress, and after +a little silence the conversation went back to the family they were about +to visit. + +They found the woman better--at least, more cheerful. Father Damon +noticed that there were medicines upon the stand, and that there were the +remains of a meal which the children had been eating. He turned to the +doctor. "I see that you have been providing for them." + +"Oh, the eldest boy had already been out and begged a piece of bread when +I came. Of course they had to have something more at once. But it is +very little that I can do." + +He sat down by the bed, and talked with the mother, getting her story, +while the doctor tidied up the room a bit, and then, taking the youngest +child in her lap and drawing the others about her, began to tell a story +in a low voice. Presently she was aware that the priest was on his knees +and saying a prayer. She stopped in her story, and looked out through +the dirty window into the chill and dark area. + +"What is he doing?" whispered one of the children. + +"I don't know," she said, and a sort of chill came over her heart. It +all seemed a mockery, in these surroundings. + +When he rose he said to the woman, "We will see that you do not want till +your husband comes back." + +"And I will look in tomorrow," said the doctor. + +When they were in the street, Father Damon thanked her for calling his +attention to the case, thanked her a little formally, and said that he +would make inquiries and have it properly attended to. And then he +asked: "Is your work ended for the day? You must be tired." + +"Oh, no; I have several visits to make. I'm not tired. I rather think +it is good for me, being out-of-doors so much." She thanked him, and +said good-by. + +For a moment he stood and watched the plain, resolute little woman +threading her way through the crowded and unclean street, and then slowly +walked away to his apartment, filled with sadness and perplexity. + +The apartment which he occupied was not far from the mission chapel, +and it was the one clean spot among the ill-kept tenements; but as to +comfort, it was not much better than the cell of an anchorite. Of this, +however, he was not thinking as he stretched himself out on his pallet to +rest a little from the exhausting labors of the day. Probably it did not +occur to him that his self-imposed privations lessened his strength for +his work. + +He was thinking of Ruth Leigh. What a rare soul! And yet apparently she +did not think or care whether she had a soul. What could be the spring +of her incessant devotion? If ever woman went about doing good in an +unselfish spirit it was she. Yet she confessed her work hopeless. She +had no faith, no belief in immortality, no expectation of any reward, +nothing to offer to anybody beyond this poor life. Was this the +enthusiasm of humanity, of which he heard so much? But she did not seem +to have any illusions, or to be burned up by enthusiasm. She just kept +on. Ah, he thought, what a woman she would be if she were touched by the +fire of faith! + +Meantime, Ruth Leigh went on her round. One day was like another, except +that every day the kaleidoscope of misery showed new combinations, new +phases of suffering and incompetence, and there was always a fresh +interest in that. For years now this had been her life, in the chill of +winter and the heat of summer, without rest or vacation. The amusements, +the social duties, the allurements of dress and society, that so much +occupied the thoughts of other women, did not seem to come into her life. +For books she had little time, except the books of her specialty. The +most exciting novels were pale compared with her daily experiences of +real life. Almost her only recreation was a meeting of the working- +girls, a session of her labor lodge, or an assembly at the Cooper Union, +where some fiery orator, perhaps a priest, or a clever agitator, +a working-man glib of speech, who had a mass of statistics at the end of +his tongue, who read and discussed, in some private club of zealots of +humanity, metaphysics, psychology, and was familiar with the whole +literature of labor and socialism, awoke the enthusiasm of the +discontented or the unemployed, and where men and women, in clear but +homely speech, told their individual experiences of wrong and injustice. +There was evidence in all these demonstrations and organizations that the +world was moving, and that the old order must change. + +Years and years the little woman had gone on with her work, and she +frankly confessed to Edith, one day when they were together going her +rounds, that she could see no result from it all. The problem of poverty +and helplessness and incapacity seemed to her more hopeless than when she +began. There might be a little enlightenment here and there, but there +was certainly not less misery. The state of things was worse than she +thought at first; but one thing cheered her: the people were better than +she thought. They might be dull and suspicious in the mass, but she +found so much patience, unselfishness, so many people of good hearts and +warm affections. + +"They are the people," she said, "I should choose for friends. They are +natural, unsophisticated. And do you know," she went on, "that what most +surprises me is the number of reading, thoughtful people among those who +do manual labor. I doubt if on your side of town the, best books, the +real fundamental and abstruse books, are so read and discussed, or the +philosophy of life is so seriously considered, as in certain little +circles of what you call the working-classes." + +"Isn't it all very revolutionary?" asked Edith. + +"Perhaps," replied the doctor, dryly. "But they have no more fads than +other people. Their theories seem to them not only practical, but they +try to apply them to actual legislation; at any rate, they discriminate +in vagaries. You would have been amused the other night in a small +circle at the lamentations over a member--he was a car-driver--who was +the authoritative expositor of Schopenhauer, because he had gone off into +Theosophy. It showed such weakness." + +"I have heard that the members of that circle were Nihilists." + +"The club has not that name, but probably the members would not care to +repudiate the title, or deny that they were Nihilists theoretically--that +is, if Nihilism means an absolute social and political overturning in +order that something better may be built up. And, indeed, if you see +what a hopeless tangle our present situation is, where else can the mind +logically go?" + +"It is pitiful enough," Edith admitted. "But all this movement you speak +of seems to me a vague agitation." + +"I don't think," the doctor said, after a moment, "that you appreciate +the intellectual force that is in it all, or allow for the fermenting +power in the great discontented mass of these radical theories on the +problem of life." + +This was a specimen of the sort of talk that Edith and the doctor often +drifted into in their mission work. As Ruth Leigh tramped along late +this afternoon in the slush of the streets, from one house of sickness +and poverty to another, a sense of her puny efforts in this great mass of +suffering and injustice came over her anew. Her indignation rose against +the state of things. And Father Damon, who was trying to save souls, was +he accomplishing anything more than she? Why had he been so curt with +her when she went to him for help this afternoon? Was he just a narrow- +minded, bigoted priest? A few nights before she had heard him speak on +the single tax at a labor meeting. She recalled his eloquence, his +profound sympathy with the cause of the people, the thrilling, pathetic +voice, the illumination of his countenance, the authority, the +consecration in his attitude and dress; and he was transfigured to her +then, as he was now in her thought, into an apostle of humanity. Alas! +she thought, what a leader he would be if he would break loose from his +superstitious traditions! + + + + +VII + +The acquaintance between the house of Henderson and the house of Delancy +was not permitted to languish. Jack had his reasons for it, which may +have been financial, and Carmen had her reasons, which were probably +purely social. What was the good of money if it did not bring social +position? and what, on the other hand, was the good of social position if +you could not use it to get money? + +In his recent association with the newly rich, Jack's twenty thousand a +year began to seem small. In fact, in the lowering of the rate of +interest and the shrinkage of securities, it was no longer twenty +thousand a year. This would have been a matter of little consequence in +the old order. His lot was not cast among the poor; most of his +relations had solid fortunes, and many of them were millionaires, or what +was equivalent to that, before the term was invented. But they made +little display; none at all merely for the purpose of exhibition, or to +gain or keep social place. In this atmosphere in which he was born Jack +floated along without effort, with no demand upon him to keep up with a +rising standard of living. Even impecuniosity, though inconvenient, +would not have made him lose caste. + +All this was changing now. Since the introduction of a new element even +the conservative old millions had begun to feel the stir of uneasiness, +and to launch out into extravagance in rivalry with the new millions. +Even with his relations Jack began to feel that he was poor. It did not +spur him to do anything, to follow the example, for instance, of the +young fellows from the country, who were throwing themselves into Wall +Street with the single purpose of becoming suddenly rich, but it made him +uneasy. And when he was with the Hendersons, or Miss Tavish, whose +father, though not newly rich, was one of the most aggressive of +speculators, and saw how easily every luxurious desire glided into +fulfillment, he felt for the first time in his life the emotion of envy. +It seemed then that only unlimited money could make the world attractive. +Why, even to keep up with the unthinking whims of Miss Tavish would +bankrupt him in six months. That little spread at Wherry's for the +theatre party the other night, though he made light of it to Edith, was +almost the price he couldn't afford to pay for Storm. He had a grim +thought that midwinter flowers made dining as expensive as dying. +Carmen, whom nothing escaped, complimented him on his taste, quite aware +that he couldn't afford it, and, apropos, told him of a lady in Chicago +who, hearing that the fashion had changed, wrote on her dinner cards, "No +flowers." It was only a matter of course for these people to build a new +country-house in any spot that fashion for the moment indicated, to equip +their yachts for a Mediterranean voyage or for loitering down the +Southern coast, to give a ball that was the talk of the town, to make up +a special train of luxurious private cars for Mexico or California. Even +at the clubs the talk was about these things and the opportunities for +getting them. + +There was a rumor about town that Henderson was a good deal extended. +It alarmed a hundred people, not on Henderson's account, but their own. +When one of them consulted Uncle Jerry, that veteran smiled. + +"Oh, I guess Henderson's all right. But I wouldn't wonder if it meant a +squeeze. Of course if he's extended, it's an excuse for settling up, and +the shorts will squeal. I've seen Henderson extended a good many times," +and the old man laughed. "Don't you worry about him." + +This opinion, when reported, did not seem to quiet Jack's fears, who saw +his own little venture at the mercy of a sweeping Street game. It +occurred to him that he possibly might get a little light on the matter +by dropping in that afternoon and taking a quiet cup of tea with Mrs. +Henderson. + +He found her in the library. Outdoors winter was slouching into spring +with a cold drizzle, with a coating of ice on the pavements-animating +weather for the medical profession. Within, there was the glow of warmth +and color that Carmen liked to create for herself. In an entrancing tea- +gown, she sat by a hickory fire, with a fresh magazine in one hand and a +big paper-cutter in the other. She rose at Jack's entrance, and, +extending her hand, greeted him with a most cordial smile. It was so +good of him! She was so lonesome! He could himself see that the +lonesomeness was dissipated, as she seated him in a comfortable chair by +the fire, and then stood a moment looking at him, as if studying his +comfort. She was such a domestic woman! + +"You look tired, monsieur," she said, as she passed behind his chair and +rested the tip of her forefinger for a second on his head. "I shall make +you a cup of tea at once." + +"Not tired, but bothered," said Jack, stretching out his legs. + +"I know," she replied; "it's a bothering world." She was still behind +him, and spoke low, but with sympathy. "I remember, it's only one lump." + +He could feel her presence, so womanly and friendly. "I don't care what +people say," he was thinking, "she's a good-hearted little thing, and +understands men." He felt that he could tell her anything, almost +anything that he could tell a man. She was sympathetic and not +squeamish. + +"There," she said, handing him the tea and looking down on him. + +The cup was dainty, the fragrance of the tea delicious, the woman +exquisite. + +"I'm better already," said Jack, with a laugh. + +She made a cup for herself, handed him the cigarettes, lit one for +herself, and sat on a low stool not far from him. + +"Now what is it?" + +"Oh, nothing--a little business worry. Have you heard any Street rumor?" + +"Rumor?" she repeated, with a little start. And then, leaning forward, +"Do you mean that about Mr. Henderson in the morning papers?" + +"Yes." + +Carmen, relieved, gave a liquid little laugh, and then said, with a +change to earnestness: "I'm going to trust you, my friend. Henderson put +it in himself! He told me so this morning when I asked him about it. +This is just between ourselves." + +Jack said, "Of course," but he did not look relieved. The clever +creature divined the situation without another word, for there was no +turn in the Street that she was not familiar with. But there was no +apparent recognition of it, except in her sympathetic tone, when she +said: " Well, the world is full of annoyances. I'm bothered myself--and +such a little thing." + +"What is it?" + +"Oh nothing, not even a rumor. You cannot do anything about it. I don't +know why I should tell you. But I will." And she paused a moment, +looking down in an innocent perplexity. "It's just this: I am on the +Foundlings' Board with Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, and I don't know her, and you +can't think how awkward it is having to meet her every week in that stiff +kind of way." She did not go on to confide to Jack how she had intrigued +to get on the board, and how Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, in the most well-bred +manner, had practically ignored her. + +"She's an old friend of mine." + +"Indeed! She's a charming woman." + +"Yes. We were great cronies when she was Sadie Mack. She isn't a +genius, but she is good-hearted. I suppose she is on all the charity +boards in the city. She patronizes everything," Jack continued, with a +smile. + +"I'm sure she is," said Carmen, thinking that however good-hearted she +might be she was very "snubby." "And it makes it all the more awkward, +for I am interested in so many things myself." + +"I can arrange all that," Jack said, in an off-hand way. Carmen's look +of gratitude could hardly be distinguished from affection. "That's easy +enough. We are just as good friends as ever, though I fancy she doesn't +altogether approve of me lately. It's rather nice for a fellow, Mrs. +Henderson, to have a lot of women keeping him straight, isn't it?" asked +Jack, in the tone of a bad boy. + +"Yes. Between us all we will make a model of you. I am so glad now that +I told you." + +Jack protested that it was nothing. Why shouldn't friends help each +other? Why not, indeed, said Carmen, and the talk went on a good deal +about friendship, and the possibility of it between a man and a woman. +This sort of talk is considered serious and even deep, not to say +philosophic. Carmen was a great philosopher in it. She didn't know, but +she believed, it seemed natural, that every woman should have one man +friend. Jack rose to go. + +"So soon?" And it did seem pathetically soon. She gave him her hand, and +then by an impulse she put her left hand over his, and looked up to him +in quite a business way. + +"Mr. Delancy, don't you be troubled about that rumor we were speaking of. +It will be all right. Trust me." + +He understood perfectly, and expressed both his understanding and his +gratitude by bending over and kissing the little hand that lay in his. + +When he had gone, Carmen sat a long time by the fire reflecting. It +would be sweet to humiliate the Delancy and Schuyler Blunt set, as +Henderson could. But what would she gain by that? It would be sweeter +still to put them under obligations, and profit by that. She had endured +a good many social rebuffs in her day, this tolerant little woman, and +the sting of their memory could only be removed when the people who had +ignored her had to seek social favors she could give. If Henderson only +cared as much for such things as she did! But he was at times actually +brutal about it. He seemed to have only one passion. She herself liked +money, but only for what it would bring. Henderson was like an old +Pharaoh, who was bound to build the biggest pyramid ever built to his +memory; he hated to waste a block. But what was the good of that when +one had passed beyond the reach of envy? + +Revolving these deep things in her mind, she went to her dressing-room +and made an elaborate toilet for dinner. Yet it was elaborately simple. +That sort needed more study than the other. She would like to be the +Carmen of ten years ago in Henderson's eyes. + +Her lord came home late, and did not dress for dinner. It was often so, +and the omission was usually not allowed to pass by Carmen without +notice, to which Henderson was sure to growl that he didn't care to be +always on dress parade. Tonight Carmen was all graciousness and warmth. +Henderson did not seem to notice it. He ate his dinner abstractedly, and +responded only in monosyllables to her sweet attempts at conversation. +The fact was that the day had been a perplexing one; he was engaged in +one of his big fights, a scheme that aroused all his pugnacity and taxed +all his resources. He would win--of course; he would smash everybody, +but he would win. When he was in this mood Carmen felt that she was like +a daisy in the path of a cyclone. In the first year of their marriage he +used to consult her about all his schemes, and value her keen +understanding. She wondered why he did not now. Did he distrust even +her, as he did everybody else? Tonight she asked no questions. She was +unruffled by his short responses to her conversational attempts; by her +subtle, wifely manner she simply put herself on his side, whatever the +side was. + +In the library she brought him his cigar, and lighted it. She saw that +his coffee was just as he liked it. As she moved about, making things +homelike, Henderson noticed that she was more Carmenish than he had seen +her in a long time. The sweet ways and the simple toilet must be by +intention. And he knew her so well. He began to be amused and softened. +At length he said, in his ordinary tone, "Well, what is it?" + +"What is what, dear?" + +"What do you want?" + +Carmen looked perplexed and sweetly surprised. There is nothing so +pitiful about habitual hypocrisy as that it never deceives anybody. +It was not the less painful now that Carmen knew that Henderson knew her +to the least fibre of her self-seeking soul, and that she felt that there +were currents in his life that she could not calculate. A man is so much +more difficult to understand than a woman, she reflected. And yet he is +so susceptible that he can be managed even when he knows he is being +managed. Carmen was not disconcerted for a moment. She replied, with +her old candor: + +"What an idea! You give me everything I want before I know what it is." + +"And before I know it either," he responded, with a grim smile. "Well, +what is the news today?" + +"Just the same old round. The Foundlings' Board, for one thing." + +"Are you interested in foundlings?" + +"Not much," said Carmen, frankly. "I'm interested in those that find +them. I told you how hateful that Mrs. Schuyler Blunt is." + +"Why don't you cut her? Why don't you make it uncomfortable for her?" + +"I can't find out," she said, with a laugh, dropping into the language of +the Street, "anything she is short in, or I would." + +"And you want me to get a twist on old Blunt?" and Henderson roared with +laughter at the idea. + +"No, indeed. Dear, you are just a goose, socially. It is nothing to +you, but you don't understand what we women have to go through. You +don't know how hard it is--that woman!" + +"What has she done?" + +"Nothing. That's just it. What do you say in the Street--freeze? Well, +she is trying to freeze me out." + +Henderson laughed again. "Oh, I'll back you against the field." + +"I don't want to be backed," said Carmen; "I want some sympathy." + +"Well, what is your idea?" + +"I was going to tell you. Mr. Delancy dropped in this afternoon for a +cup of tea--" + +"Oh!" + +"Yes, and he knows Mrs. Schuyler Blunt well; they are old friends, and he +is going to arrange it." + +"Arrange what?" + +"Why, smooth everything out, don't you know. But, Rodney, I do want you +to do something for me; not for me exactly, but about this. Won't you +look out for Mr. Delancy in this deal?" + +"Seems to me you are a good deal interested in Jack Delancy," said +Henderson, in a sneering tone. The remark was a mistake, for it gave +Carmen the advantage, and he did not believe it was just. He knew that +Carmen was as passionless as a diamond, whatever even she might pretend +for a purpose. + +"Aren't you ashamed!" she cried, with indignation, and her eyes flared +for an instant and then filled with tears. "And I try so hard." + +"But I can't look out for all the lame ducks." + +"He isn't a duck," said Carmen, using her handkerchief; "I'd hate him for +a duck. It's just to help me, when you know, when you know--and it is so +hard," and the tears came again. + +Did Henderson believe? After all, what did it matter? Perhaps, after +all, the woman had a right to her game, as he had to his. + +"Oh, well," he said, "don't take on about it. I'll fix it. I'll make a +memorandum this minute. Only don't you bother me in the future with too +many private kites." + +Carmen dried her eyes. She did not look triumphant; she just looked +sweet and grateful, like a person who had been helped. She went over and +kissed her lord on the forehead, and sat on the arm of his chair, not too +long, and then patted him on the shoulder, and said he was a good fellow, +and she was a little bother, and so went away like a dutiful little wife. + +And Henderson sat looking into the fire and musing, with the feeling that +he had been at the theatre, and that the comedy had been beautifully +played. + +His part of the play was carried out next day in good faith. One of the +secrets of Henderson's success was that he always did what he said he +would do. This attracted men to him personally, and besides he found, as +Bismarck did, that it was more serviceable to him than lying, for the +crafty world usually banks upon insincerity and indirectness. But while +he kept his word he also kept his schemes to himself, and executed them +with a single regard to his own interest and a Napoleonic selfishness. +He did not lie to enemy or friend, but he did not spare either when +either was in his way. He knew how to appeal to the self-interest of his +fellows, and in time those who had most to do with him trusted him least +when he seemed most generous in his offers. + +When, the next day, his secretary reported to him briefly that Delancy +was greatly elated with the turn things had taken for him, and was going +in again, Henderson smiled sardonically, and said, "It was the worst +thing I could have done for him." + +Jack, who did not understand the irony of his temporary rescue, and had +little experience of commercial integrity, so called, was intent on +fulfilling his part of the understanding with Carmen. This could best be +effected by a return dinner to the Hendersons. The subject was broached +at breakfast in an off-hand manner to Edith. + +It was not an agreeable subject to Edith, that was evident; but it was +not easy for her to raise objections to the dinner. She had gone to the +Hendersons' to please Jack, in her policy of yielding in order to +influence him; but having accepted the hospitality, she could not object +to returning it. The trouble was in making the list. + +"I do not know," said Edith, "who are the Hendersons' friends." + +"Oh, that doesn't matter. Ask our friends. If we are going to do a +thing to please them, no use in doing it half-way, so as to offend them, +by drawing social lines against them." + +"Well, suggest." + +"There's Mavick; he'll be over from Washington next week." + +"That's good; and, oh, I'll ask Father Damon." + +"Yes; he'll give a kind of flavor to it. I shouldn't wonder if he would +like to meet such a man as Henderson." + +"And then the Van Dams and Miss Tavish; they were at Henderson's, and +would help to make it easy." + +"Yes; well, let's see. The Schuyler Blunts?" + +"Oh, they wouldn't do at all. They wouldn't come. She wouldn't think of +going to the Hendersons'." + +"But she would come to us. I don't think she would mind once in a way." + +"But why do you want them?" + +"I don't want them particularly; but it would no doubt please the +Hendersons more than any other thing we could do-and, well, I don't want +to offend Henderson just now. It's a little thing, anyway. What's the +use of all this social nonsense? We are not responsible for either the +Hendersons or the Blunts being in the world. No harm done if they don't +come. You invite them, and I'll take the responsibility." + +So it was settled, against Edith's instinct of propriety, and the dinner +was made up by the addition of the elder Miss Chesney. And Jack did +persuade Mrs. Blunt to accept. In fact, she had a little curiosity to +see the man whose name was in the newspapers more prominently than that +of the President. + +It was a bright thought to secure Mr. Mavick. Mr. Thomas Mavick was +socially one of the most desirable young men of the day. Matrimonially +he was not a prize, for he was without fortune and without powerful +connections. He had a position in the State Department. Originally he +came from somewhere in the West, it was said, but he had early obtained +one or two minor diplomatic places; he had lived a good deal abroad; +he had traveled a little--a good deal, it would seem, from his occasional +Oriental allusions. He threw over his past a slight mystery, not too +much; and he always took himself seriously. His salary was sufficient to +set up a bachelor very comfortably who always dined out; he dressed in +the severity of the fashion; he belonged only to the best clubs, where he +unbent more than anywhere else; he was credited with knowing a good deal +more than he would tell. It was believed, in fact, that he had a great +deal of influence. The President had been known to send for him on +delicate personal business with regard to appointments, and there were +certain ticklish diplomatic transactions that he was known to have +managed most cleverly. His friends could see his hand in state papers. +This he disclaimed, but he never denied that he knew the inside of +whatever was going on in Washington. Even those who thought him a snob +said he was clever. He had perfectly the diplomatic manner, and the +reserve of one charged with grave secrets. Whatever he disclosed was +always in confidence, so that he had the reputation of being as discreet +as he was knowing. With women he was of course a favorite, for he knew +how to be confidential without disclosing anything, and the hints he +dropped about persons in power simply showed that he was secretly +manoeuvring important affairs, and could make the most interesting +revelations if he chose. His smile and the shake of his head at the club +when talk was personal conveyed a world of meaning. Tom Mavick was, in +short, a most accomplished fellow. It was evident that he carried on the +State Department, and the wonder to many was that he was not in a +position to do it openly. His social prestige was as mysterious as his +diplomatic, but it was now unquestioned, and he might be considered as +one of the first of a class who are to reconcile social and political +life in this country. + + + + +VIII + +Looking back upon this dinner of the Delancys, the student of human +affairs can see how Providence uses small means for the accomplishment of +its purposes. Of all our social contrivances, the formal dinner is +probably the cause of more anxiety in the arrangement, of more weariness +in the performance, and usually of less satisfaction in the retrospect +than any other social function. However carefully the guests are +selected, it lacks the spontaneity that gives intellectual zest to the +chance dining together of friends. This Delancy party was made up for +reasons which are well understood, and it seemed to have been admirably +well selected; and yet the moment it assembled it was evident that it +could not be very brilliant or very enjoyable. Doubtless you, madam, +would have arranged it differently, and not made it up of such +incongruous elements. + +As a matter of fact, scarcely one of those present would not have had +more enjoyment somewhere else. Father Damon, whose theory was that the +rich needed saving quite as much as the poor, would nevertheless have +been in better spirits sitting down to a collation with the working-women +in Clinton Place. It was a good occasion for the cynical observation of +Mr. Mavick, but it was not a company that he could take in hand and +impress with his mysterious influence in public affairs. Henderson was +not in the mood, and would have had much more ease over a chop and a +bottle of half-and-half with Uncle Jerry. Carmen, socially triumphant, +would have been much more in her element at a petit souper of a not too +fastidious four. Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was in the unaccustomed position of +having to maintain a not too familiar and not too distant line of +deportment. Edith and Jack felt the responsibility of having put an +incongruous company on thin conventional ice. It was only the easy-going +Miss Tavish and two or three others who carried along their own animal +spirits and love of amusement who enjoyed the chance of a possible +contretemps. + +And yet the dinner was providentially arranged. If these people had not +met socially, this history would have been different from what it must +be. The lives of several of them were appreciably modified by this +meeting. It is too much to say that Father Damon's notion of the means +by which such men as Henderson succeed was changed, but personal contact +with the man may have modified his utterances about him, and he may have +turned his mind to the uses to which his wealth might be applied rather +than to the means by which he obtained it. Carmen's ingenuous interest +in his work may have encouraged the hope that at least a portion of this +fortune might be rescued to charitable uses. For Carmen, dining with +Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was a distinct gain, and indirectly opened many other +hitherto exclusive doors. That lady may not have changed her opinion +about Carmen, but she was good-natured and infected by the incoming +social tolerance; and as to Henderson, she declared that he was an +exceedingly well-bred man, and she did not believe half the stories about +him. Henderson himself at once appreciated the talents of Mavick, gauged +him perfectly, and saw what services he might be capable of rendering at +Washington. Mr. Mavick appreciated the advantage of a connection with +such a capitalist, and of having open to him another luxurious house in +New York. At the dinner-table Carmen and Mr. Mavick had not exchanged a +dozen remarks before these clever people felt that they were congenial +spirits. It was in the smoking-room that Henderson and Mavick fell into +an interesting conversation, which resulted in an invitation for Mavick +to drop in at Henderson's office in the morning. The dinner had not been +a brilliant one. Henderson found it not easy to select topics equally +interesting to Mrs. Delancy and Mrs. Blunt, and finally fell into +geographical information to the latter about Mexico and Honduras. For +Edith, the sole relief of the evening was an exchange of sympathy with +Father Damon, and she was too much preoccupied to enjoy that. As for +Carmen, placed between Jack and Mr. Mavick, and conscious that the eyes +of Mrs. Blunt were on her, she was taking a subdued role, which Jack +found much less attractive than her common mood. But this was not her +only self-sacrifice of the evening. She went without her usual +cigarette. + +To Edith the dinner was a revelation of new difficulties in the life she +proposed for herself, though they were rather felt than distinctly +reasoned about. The social atmosphere was distasteful; its elements were +out of harmony with her ideals. Not that this society was new to her, +but that she saw it in a new light. Before her marriage all these things +had been indifferent to this high-spirited girl. They were merely +incidents of the social state into which she was born, and she pursued +her way among them, having a tolerably clear conception of what her own +life should be, with little recognition of their tendencies. Were only +her own life concerned, they would still be indifferent to her. But +something had happened. That which is counted the best thing in life had +come to her, that best thing which is the touchstone of character as it +is of all conditions, and which so often introduces inextricable +complications. She had fallen in love with Jack Delancy and married him. + +The first effect of this was to awake and enlarge what philosophers would +call her enthusiasm of humanity. The second effect was to show her--and +this was what this little dinner emphasized--that she had put limitations +upon herself and taken on unthought-of responsibilities. To put this +sort of life one side, or make it secondary to her own idea of a useful +and happy life, would have been easy but for one thing--she loved Jack. +This philosophic reasoning about it does her injustice. It did not occur +to her that she could go her way and let him go his way. Nor must it be +supposed that the problem seemed as grave to her as it really was--the +danger of frittering away her own higher nature in faithfulness to one of +the noblest impulses of that nature. Yet this is the way that so many +trials of life come, and it is the greatest test of character. She felt- +as many women do feel--that if she retained her husband's love all would +be well, and the danger involved to herself probably did not cross her +mind. + +But what did cross her mind was that these associations meant only evil +for Jack, and that to be absorbed in the sort of life that seemed to +please him was for her to drift away from all her ideals. + +A confused notion of all this was in her thoughts when she talked with +Father Damon, while the gentlemen were in the smoking-room. She asked +him about his mission. + +"The interest continues," he replied; "but your East Side, Mrs. Delancy, +is a puzzling place." + +"How so?" + +"Perhaps you'll laugh if I say there is too much intelligence." + +Edith did laugh, and then said: " Then you'd better move your mission +over to this side. Here is a field of good, unadulterated worldliness. +But what, exactly, do you mean?" + +"Well, the attempt of science to solve the problem of sin and +wretchedness. What can you expect when the people are socialists and +their leaders agnostics?" + +"But I thought you were something of a socialist yourself!" + +"So I am," he said, frankly, "when I see the present injustice, the +iniquitous laws and combinations that leave these people so little +chance. They are ignorant, and expect the impossible; but they are right +in many things, and I go with them. But my motive is not theirs. I hope +not. There is no hope except in a spiritual life. Materialism down at +the bottom of society is no better than materialism at the top. Do you +know," he went on, with increased warmth, "that pessimism is rather the +rule over that side, and that many of those who labor most among the poor +have the least hope of ever making things substantially better?" + +"But such unselfish people as Dr. Leigh do a great deal of good," Edith +suggested. + +"Yes," he said reflecting--"yes, I have no doubt. I don't understand it. +She is not hopeful. She sees nothing beyond. I don't know what keeps +her up." + +"Love of humanity, perhaps." + +"I wish the phrase had never been invented. Religion of humanity! +The work is to save the souls of those people." + +"But," said Edith, with a flush of earnestness "but, Father Damon, isn't +human love the greatest power to save?" + +The priest looked at the girl. His face softened, and he said, more +gently, "I don't know. Of the soul, yes. But human love is so apt to +stand in the way of the higher life." + +In her soul Edith resented this as an ascetic and priestly view; but she +knew his devotion to that humanity which he in vain tried to eliminate +from his austere life, and she turned the talk lightly by saying, "Ah, +that is your theory. But I am coming over soon, and shall expect you and +Dr. Leigh to take me about." + + +The next morning Mr. Mavick's card gave him instant admission to the +inner office of Mr. Henderson, the approach to whom was more carefully +guarded than that to the President of the United States. This was not +merely necessary to save him from the importunities of cranks who might +carry concealed dynamite arguments, but as well to protect him from +hundreds of business men with whom he was indirectly dealing, and with +whom he wished to evade explanations. He thoroughly understood the +advantages of delay. He also understood the value of the mystery that +attends inaccessibility. Even Mr. Mavick himself was impressed by the +show of ceremony, by the army of clerks, and by the signs of complete +organization. He knew that the visitor was specially favored who +penetrated these precincts so far as to get an interview, usually +fruitless, with Henderson's confidential man. This confidential man was +a very grave and confidence-begetting person, who dealt out dubious hints +and promises, and did not at all mind when Henderson found it necessary +to repudiate as unauthorized anything that had been apparently said in +his name. To be sure, this gave a general impression that Henderson was +an inscrutable man to deal with, but at the same time it was confessed +that his spoken word could be depended on. Anything written might, it is +true, lead to litigation, and this gave rise to a saying in the Street +that Henderson's word was better than his bond. + +Henderson was not a politician, but he was a friend of politicians. It +was said that he contributed about equally to both sides in a political +campaign, and that this showed patriotism more than partisanship. It was +for his interest to have friends on both sides in Congress, and friends +in the Cabinet, and it was even hinted that he was concerned to have men +whose economic and financial theories accorded with his own on the +Supreme Bench. He had unlimited confidence in the power of money. His +visitor of the morning was not unlike him in many respects. He also was +not a politician. He would have described himself as a governmental man, +and had a theory of running the government with as little popular +interference as possible. He regarded himself as belonging to the +governing class. + +Between these two men, who each had his own interests in view, there was +naturally an apparent putting aside of reserve. + +"I was very glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mavick," said Henderson, +cordially. " I have known of you for a long time." + +"Yes? I've been in the employ of the government for some time." + +"And I suppose it pays pretty well," said Henderson, smilingly. + +"Oh, extravagantly," Mavick rejoined, in the same spirit. "You just +about get your board and clothes out of government. Your washing is +another thing. You are expected, you know, to have your washing done +where you vote." + +"Well, it's a sure thing." + +"Yes, till you are turned out. You know the theory at Washington is that +virtue is its own reward. Tom Fakeltree says it's enough." + +"I wonder how he knows?" + +"Observation, probably. Tom startled a dinner table the other day with +the remark that when a man once gives himself up to the full enjoyment of +a virtuous life, it seems strange to him that more people do not follow +his example." + +"The trouble with the virtue of Washington is that it always wants to +interfere with other people's business. Fellows like Tom are always +hunting up mares' nests in order to be paid for breaking them up." + +"I can't say about Tom," rejoined Mavick. "I suppose it is necessary to +live." + +"I suppose so. And that goes along with another proposition--that the +successful have no rights which the unsuccessful are bound to respect. +As soon as a man gets ahead," Henderson continued, with a tone of +bitterness, "the whole pack are trying to pull him down. A capitalist is +a public enemy. Why, look at that Hodge bill! Strikes directly at the +ability of the railways to develop the country. Have you seen it?" + +"Yes," Mavick admitted; "the drawer of it was good enough to consult me +on its constitutionality. It's a mighty queer bill." + +"It can't get through the Senate," said Henderson; "but it's a bother. +Such schemes are coming up all the time, and they unsettle business. +These fellows need watching." + +"And managing," added Mavick. + +"Exactly. I can't be in Washington all the time. And I need to know +what is going on every twenty-four hours from the inside. I can't rely +on politicians or lobbyists." + +"Well," said Mr. Mavick, in his easiest manner, "that's easy enough. +You want a disinterested friend." + +Henderson nodded, but did not even smile, and the talk went on about +other measures, and confidentially about certain men in Washington, +until, after twenty minutes' conversation, the two men came to a perfect +understanding. When Mavick arose to go they shook hands even more +cordially than at first, and Henderson said: + +"Well, I expect to hear from you, and remember that our house will always +be your home in the city." + + + + +IX + +It seemed very fortunate to Jack Delancy that he should have such a +clever woman as Carmen for his confidante, a man so powerful as Henderson +as his backer, and a person so omniscient as Mavick for his friend. +No combination could be more desirable for a young man who proposed to +himself a career of getting money by adroit management and spending it in +pure and simple self-indulgence. There are plenty of men who have taken +advantage of like conditions to climb from one position to another, and +have then kicked down the ladders behind them as fast as they attained a +new footing. It was Jack's fault that he was not one of these. You +could scarcely dignify his character by saying that he had an aim, except +to saunter through life with as little personal inconvenience as +possible. His selfishness was boneless. It was not by any means +negative, for no part of his amiable nature was better developed than +regard for his own care and comfort; but it was not strong enough to give +him Henderson's capacity for hard work and even self-denial, nor Mavick's +cool, persevering skill in making a way for himself in the world. +Why was not Edith his confidante? His respect for her was undoubted; his +love for her was unquestioned; his trust in her was absolute. And yet +with either Carmen or Miss Tavish he fell into confidential revelations +of himself which instinctively he did not make to Edith. The explanation +of this is on the surface, and it is the key to half the unhappiness in +domestic life. He felt that Edith was not in sympathy with the +associations and the life he was leading. The pitiful and hopeless part +of it is that if she had been in sympathy with them, Jack would have gone +on in his frivolous career at an accelerated pace. It was not absence of +love, it was not unfaithfulness, that made Jack enjoy the hours he spent +with Carmen, or with the pleasing and not too fastidious Miss Tavish, +with a zest that was wanting to his hours at home. If he had been upon a +sinking steamboat with the three women, and could have saved only one of +them, he would not have had a moment's hesitation in rescuing Edith and +letting the other two sink out of his life. The character is not +unusual, nor the situation uncommon. What is a woman to do? Her very +virtues are enemies of her peace; if she appears as a constant check and +monitor, she repels; if she weakly acquiesces, the stream will flow over +both of them. The dilemma seems hopeless. + +It would be a mistake to suppose that either Edith or Jack put their +relations in any such definite shape as this. He was unthinking. She +was too high-spirited, too confident of her position, to be assailed by +such fears. And it must be said, since she was a woman, that she had the +consciousness of power which goes along with the possession of loveliness +and keen wit. Those who knew her best knew that under her serenity was a +gay temperament, inherited from the original settlers of Manhattan, an +abounding enjoyment of life, and capacity for passion. It was early +discovered in her childhood that little Edith had a will of her own. + +Lent was over. It was the time of the twittering of sparrows, of the +opening of windows, of putting in order the little sentimental spots +called "squares," where the poor children get their idea of forests, and +the rich renew their faint recollections of innocence and country life; +when the hawkers go about the streets, and the hand-organs celebrate the +return of spring and the possibility of love. Even the idle felt that it +was a time for relaxation and quiet. + +"Have you answered Miss Tavish's invitation?" asked Jack one morning at +the breakfast-table. + +"Not yet. I shall decline today for myself." + +"Why? It's for charity." + +"Well, my charity extends to Miss Tavish. I don't want to see her +dance." + +"That leaves me in a nice hole. I said I'd go." + +"And why not? You go to a good many places you don't take me--the clubs, +brokers' offices, Stalker's, the Conventional, and--" + +"Oh, go on. Why do you object to my going to see this dance?" + +"My dear Jack," said Edith, "I haven't objected the least in the world;" +and her animated face sparkled with a smile, which seemed to irritate +Jack more than a frown would have done. + +"I don't see why you set yourself up. I'll bet Miss Tavish will raise +more money for the Baxter Street Guild, yes, and do more good, than you +and the priest and that woman doctor slopping about on the East Side in +six months." + +"Very likely," replied Edith, still with the same good-humored smile. +"But, Jack, it's delightful to see your philanthropic spirit stirred up +in this way. You ought to be encouraged. Why don't you join Miss Tavish +in this charity? I have no doubt that if it was advertised that Miss +Tavish and Mr. Jack Delancy would dance for the benefit of an East Side +guild in the biggest hall in the city, there wouldn't be standing room." + +"Oh, bosh!" said Jack, getting up from his chair and striding about the +room, with more irritation than he had ever shown to Edith before. +"I wouldn't be a prude." + +Edith's eyes flashed and her face flushed, but her smile came back in a +moment, and she was serene again. "Come here, Jack. Now, old fellow, +look me straight in the eyes, and tell me if you would like to have me +dance the serpentine dance before a drawing-room full of gossiping women, +with, as you say, just a few men peeping in at the doors." + +Jack did look, and the serene eyes, yet dancing with amusement at the +incongruous picture, seemed to take a warmer glow of love and pleading. + +"Oh, hang it! that's different," and he stooped and gave her an awkward +kiss. + +"I'm glad you know it's different," she said, with a laugh that had not a +trace of mockery in it; "and since you do, you'd better go along and do +your charity, and I'll stay at home, and try to be--different when you +come back." + +And Jack went; with a little feeling of sheepishness that he would not +have acknowledged at the time, and he found himself in a company where he +was entirely at his ease. He admired the dancing of the blithe, graceful +girl, he applauded her as the rest did with hand-clapping and bravas, and +said it was ravishing. It all suited him perfectly. And somehow, in the +midst of it all, in the sensuous abandon of this electric-light +eccentricity at mid-day, he had a fleeting vision of something very +different, of a womanhood of another sort, and a flush came to his face +for a moment as he imagined Edith in a skirt dance under the gaze of this +sensation-loving society. But this was only for a moment. When he +congratulated Miss Tavish his admiration was entirely sincere; and the +girl, excited with her physical triumph, seemed to him as one emancipated +out of acquired prudishness into the Greek enjoyment of life. Miss +Tavish, who would not for the world have violated one of the social +conventions of her set, longed, as many women do, for the sort of freedom +and the sort of applause which belongs to women who succeed upon the +stage. Not that she would have forfeited her position by dancing at a +theatre for money; but; within limits, she craved the excitement, the +abandon, the admiration, that her grace and passion could win. This was +not at all the ambition which led the Egyptian queen Hatshepsu to assume +the dress of a man, but rather that more famous aspiration which led the +daughter of Herodias, in a pleasure-loving court, to imitate and excel +the professional dancing-girls. If in this inclination of the women of +the day, which is not new, but has characterized all societies to which +wealth has brought idleness, there was a note of demoralization, it did +not seem so to Jack, who found the world day by day more pleasing and +more complaisant. + +As the months went by, everything prospered with him on his drifting +voyage. Of all voyages, that is the easiest to make which has no port in +view, that depends upon the varying winds, if the winds happen to be soft +and the chance harbors agreeable. Jack was envied, thanks to Henderson. +He was lucky in whatever he touched. Without any change in his idle +habits, and with no more attention to business than formerly, money came +to him so freely that he not only had a complacent notion that he was a +favorite of fortune, but the idea of his own importance in the financial +world increased enormously, much to the amusement of Mavick, when he was +occasionally in the city, to whom he talked somewhat largely of his +operations, and who knew that he had no more comprehension of the sweep +of Henderson's schemes than a baby has of the stock exchange when he +claps his hands with delight at the click of the ticker. + +His prosperity was visible. It showed in the increase of his accounts +at the Union, in his indifference to limits in the game of poker, in a +handsome pair of horses which he insisted on Edith's accepting for her +own use, in an increased scale of living at home, in the hundred ways +that a man of fashion can squander money in a luxurious city. If he did +not haunt the second-hand book-shops or the stalls of dealers in +engravings, or bring home as much bric-a-brac as he once had done, it was +because his mind was otherwise engaged; his tailor's bills were longer, +and there were more expensive lunches at the clubs, at which there was a +great deal of sage talk about stocks and combinations, and much wisdom +exhibited in regard to wines; and then there were the little suppers at +Wherry's after the theatres, which a bird could have eaten and a fish +have drunken, and only a spendthrift have paid for. + +"It is absurd," Edith had said one night after their return. "It makes +us ridiculous in the eyes of anybody but fools." And Jack had flared up +about it, and declared that he knew what he could afford, and she had +retorted that as for her she would not countenance it. And Jack had +attempted to pass it off lightly, at last, by saying, "Very well then, +dear, if you won't back me, I shall have to rely upon my bankers." +At any rate, neither Carmen nor Miss Tavish took him to task. They +complimented him on his taste, and Carmen made him feel that she +appreciated his independence and his courage in living the life that +suited him. She knew, indeed, how much he made in his speculations, how +much he lost at cards; she knew through him the gossip of the clubs, and +venturing herself not too far at sea, liked to watch the undertow of +fashionable life. And she liked Jack, and was not incapable of throwing +him a rope when the hour came that he was likely to be swept away by that +undertow. + +It was remarked at the Union, and by the men in the Street who knew him, +that Jack was getting rapid. But no one thought the less of him for his +pace--that is, no one appeared to, for this sort of estimate of a man is +only tested by his misfortunes, when the day comes that he must seek +financial backing. In these days he was generally in an expansive mood, +and his free hand and good-humor increased his popularity. There were +those who said that there were millions of family money back of Jack, and +that he had recently come in for something handsome. + +But this story did not deceive Major Fairfax, whose business it was to +know to a dot the standing of everybody in society, in which he was a +sort of oracle and privileged favorite. No one could tell exactly how +the Major lived; no one knew the rigid economy that he practiced; no one +had ever seen his small dingy chamber in a cheap lodging-house. The name +of Fairfax was as good as a letter of introduction in the metropolis, and +the Major had lived on it for years, on that and a carefully nursed +little income--an habitue of the club, and a methodical cultivator of the +art of dining out. A most agreeable man, and perhaps the wisest man in +his generation in those things about which it would be as well not to +know anything. + +Seated one afternoon in his favorite corner for street observation, by +the open window, with the evening paper in his hand, in the attitude of +one expecting the usual five o'clock cocktail, he hailed Jack, who was +just coming down-stairs from a protracted lunch. + +"I say, Delancy, what's this I hear?" + +"About what?" said Jack, sauntering along to a seat opposite the Major, +and touching a bell on the little table as he sat down. Jack's face was +flushed, but he talked with unusual slowness and distinctness. "What +have you heard, Major?" + +"That you have bought Benham's yacht." + +"No, I haven't; but I was turning the thing over in my mind," Jack +replied, with the air of a man declining an appointment in the Cabinet. +"He offers it cheap." + +"My dear boy, there is no such thing as a cheap yacht, any more than +there is a cheap elephant." + +"It's better to buy than build," Jack insisted. "A man's got to have +some recreation." + +"Recreation! Why don't you charter a Fifth Avenue stage and take your +friends on a voyage to the Battery? That'll make 'em sick enough." It +was a misery of the Major's life that, in order to keep in with necessary +friends, he had to accept invitations for cruises on yachts, and pretend +he liked it. Though he had the gout, he vowed he would rather walk to +Newport than go round Point Judith in one of those tipping tubs. He had +tried it, and, as he said afterwards, "The devil of it was that Mrs. +Henderson and Miss Tavish sympathized with me. Gad! it takes away a +person's manhood, that sort of thing." + +The Major sipped his bitters, and then added: "Or I'll tell you what; if +you must do something, start a newspaper--the drama, society, and +letters, that sort of thing, with pictures. I heard Miss Tavish say she +wished she had a newspaper." + +"But," said Jack, with gravity, "I'm not buying a yacht for Miss Tavish." + +"I didn't suppose you were. Devilish fine girl, though. I don't care +who you buy it for if you don't buy it for yourself. Why don't you buy +it for Henderson? He can afford it." + +"I'd like to know what you mean, Major Fairfax!" cried Jack. "What +business--" + +"There!" exclaimed the Major, sinking back in his chair, with a softened +expression in his society beaten face. "It's no use of nonsense, Jack. +I'm an average old sinner, and I'm not old enough yet to like a milksop. +But I've known you since you were so high, and I knew your father; he +used to stay weeks on my plantation when we were both younger. And your +mother--that was a woman!--did me a kindness once when I was in a d---d +tight place, and I never forgot it. See here, Jack, if I had money +enough I'd buy a yacht and put Carmen and Miss Tavish on it, and send +them off on the longest voyage there is." + +"Who's been talking?" exclaimed Jack, touched a little, but very much +offended. + +"The town, Jack. Don't mind the talk. People always talk. I suppose +people talk about me: At your age I should have been angry too at a hint +even from an old friend. But I've learned. It doesn't pay. I don't get +angry any more. Now there's Henderson--" + +"What have you got against Henderson?" + +"Nothing. He is a very good fellow, for that sort of man. But, Lord! +Henderson is a big machine. You might as well try to stand in with a +combination of gang-saws, or to make friends with the Department of the +Interior. Look at the men who have gone in with Henderson from time to +time. The ground is strewn with them. He's got no more feeling in +business than a reaper-and-binder." + +"I don't know what Henderson's got to do with my having a yacht." + +"I beg your pardon, Jack; it's none of my business. Only I do not put my +investments"--Jack smiled faintly, as if the conversation were taking a +humorous turn--"at the mercy of Henderson's schemes. If I did, I +wouldn't try to run a yacht at the same time. I should be afraid that +some day when I got to sea I should find myself out of coal. You know, +my boy, that the good book says you cannot serve two masters." + +"Nobody ever accused you of that, Major," retorted Jack, with a laugh. +"But what two have you in mind?" + +"Oh, I don't mean anything personal. I just use names as typical. Say +Henderson and Carmen." And the Major leaned back and tapped his fingers +together, as if he were putting a general proposition. + +Jack flushed, and then thought a moment--it would be ridiculous to get +angry with old Fairfax--and then said: "Major, if I were you, I wouldn't +have anything to do with either of them. You'll spoil your digestion." + +"Umph!" the Major grunted, as he rose from his chair. "This is an age of +impudence. There's no more respect for gray hair than if it were dyed. +I cannot waste any more time on you. I've got an early dinner. Devilish +uphill work trying to encourage people who dine at seven. But, my boy, +think on these things, as the saint says." + +And the old fellow limped away. There was one good thing about the +Major. He stood up in church every Sunday and read his prayers, like a +faithful old sinner as he was. + +Jack, sobered by the talk, walked home in a very irritated mood, blaming +everybody except himself. For old Fairfax's opinion he didn't care, but +evidently the old fellow represented a lot of gossip. He wished people +would mind their own business. His irritation was a little appeased by +Edith's gay and loving greeting; but she, who knew every shade of his +face, saw it. + +"Have you had a worrying day?" + +"No; not specially. I've had an hour of old Fairfax, who hasn't any +business of his own to attend to." + +"Oh, nobody minds the Major," Edith said, as she gave him a shake and +another kiss; but a sharp pang went through her heart, for she guessed +what had happened, since she had had a visit that afternoon from another +plain-speaking person. + +They were staying late in town. Edith, who did not care to travel far, +was going presently to a little cottage by the sea, and Mrs. Schuyler +Blunt had looked in for a moment to say good-by before she went up to her +Lenox house. + +"It's only an old farmhouse made over," Mrs. Blunt was saying; "hardly +smart enough to ask anybody to, but we hope to have you and Jack there +some time." + +"That would be very nice. I hear Lenox is more beautiful than ever." + +"Yes, it is, and about as difficult to get into as the kingdom of heaven. +It's being spoiled for moderate people. The Hendersons and the Van Dams +and that sort are in a race to see who shall build houses with the +biggest rooms, and give the most expensive entertainments. It's all +show. The old flavor has gone." + +"But they cannot spoil the scenery.". + +"My child, they are the scenery. You can't see anything else. It +doesn't bother me, but some of my old neighbors are just ruining +themselves trying to keep the pace. I do think the Americans are the +biggest fools on earth." + +"Father Damon says the trouble is we haven't any middle class for a +balance." + +"Yes, that's the English of it. But it's a pity that fashion has got +hold of the country, and is turning our summers into a worry and a +burden. I thought years ago when we went to Lenox that it was a good +thing the country was getting to be the fashion; but now it's +fashionable, and before we know it every desirable spot will be what they +call syndicated. Miss Tavish says she is coming to visit the Hendersons +there." + +"I thought she went to Bar Harbor." + +"But she is coming down for part of the season. These people don't stay +anywhere. Just long enough in one place to upset everything with their +extravagance. That's the reason I didn't ask you and Jack up this +summer." + +"Thank you, we couldn't go, you know," said Edith, simply, and then, with +curiosity in her eyes, asked; "but I don't quite understand what's the +reason." + +"Well," said Mrs. Blunt, as if nerving herself up to say what must be +said, "I thought perhaps you wouldn't like to be where they are." + +"I don't know why I should or why I should not," Edith replied. + +"Nor have Jack with them," continued Mrs. Blunt, stoutly. + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Blunt?" cried Edith, her brown eyes flaming. + +"Don't turn on me, Edith dear. I oughtn't to have said anything. But I +thought it was my duty. Of course it is only talk." + +"Well?" + +"That Jack is always with one or the other of those women." + +"It is false!" cried Edith, starting up, with tears now in her eyes; +"it's a cruel lie if it means anything wrong in Jack. So am I with those +women; so are you. It's a shame. If you hear any one say such things, +you can tell them for me that I despise them." + +"I said it was a shame, all such talk. I said it was nonsense. But, +dear, as a friend, oughtn't I to tell you?" And the kind-hearted gossip +put her arm round Edith, and kept saying that she perfectly understood +it, and that nobody really meant anything. But Edith was crying now, +with a heart both hurt and indignant. + +"It's a most hateful world, I know," Mrs, Blunt answered; "but it's the +best we have, and it's no use to fret about it." + +When the visitor had gone, Edith sat a long time in misery. It was the +first real shock of her married life. And in her heart she prayed. For +Jack? Oh no. The dear girl prayed for herself, that suspicions might +not enter her heart. She could not endure that the world should talk +thus of him. That was all. And when she had thought it all over and +grown calm, she went to her desk and wrote a note to Carmen. It asked +Mrs. Henderson, as they were so soon to leave town, to do her the favor +to come round informally and lunch with her the next day, and afterwards +perhaps a little drive in the Park. + + + + +X + +Jack was grateful for Edith's intervention. He comprehended that she had +stepped forward as a shield to him in the gossip about Carmen. He showed +his appreciation in certain lover-like attentions and in a gayety of +manner, but it was not in his nature to feel the sacrifice she had made +or its full magnanimity; he was relieved, and in a manner absolved. +Another sort of woman might have made him very uncomfortable. Instead of +being rebuked he had a new sense of freedom. + +"Not one woman in a thousand would have done it," was the comment of +Major Fairfax when he heard of the drive in the Park. "Gad! most of 'em +would have cut Carmen dead and put Jack in Coventry, and then there would +have been the devil to pay. It takes quality, though; she's such a woman +as Jack's mother. If there were not one of them now and then society +would deliquesce." And the Major knew, for his principal experience had +been with a deliquescent society. + +Whether Carmen admired Mrs. Delancy or thought her weak it is impossible +to say, but she understood the advances made and responded to them, for +they fell in perfectly with her social plans. She even had the face to +eulogize Mrs. Delancy to Jack, her breadth of view, her lack of +prejudice, and she had even dared to say, "My dear friend, she is too +good for us," and Jack had not protested, but with a laugh had accepted +the implication of his position on a lower moral level. Perhaps he did +not see exactly what it meant, this being on confidential terms about his +wife with another woman; all he cared for at the moment was that the +comradeship of Miss Tavish and Carmen was agreeable to him. They were no +restraint upon him. So long as they remained in town the exchange of +civilities was kept up. Carmen and Miss Tavish were often at his house, +and there was something reassuring to Jack in the openness with which +affairs went on. + +Early in June Edith went down to their rented cottage on the south Long +Island shore. In her delicate health the doctor had recommended the +seaside, and this locality as quiet and restful, and not too far from the +whirl of the city. The place had a charm of its own, the charm, namely, +of a wide sky, illimitable, flashing, changing sea, rolling in from the +far tropical South with its message of romance to the barren Northern +shore, and the pure sand dunes, the product of the whippings of tempests +and wild weather. The cottage was in fact an old farmhouse, not an +impertinent, gay, painted piece of architecture set on the sand like a +tent for a month, but a solid, ugly, fascinating habitation, with barns +and outhouses, and shrubs, and an old garden--a place with a salty air +friendly to delicate spring blossoms and summer fruits and foliage. +If it was a farmhouse, the sea was an important part of the farm, and the +low-ceiled rooms suggested cabins; it required little imagination to +fancy that an East-Indian ship had some time come ashore and settled in +the sand, that it had been remodeled and roofed over, and its sides +pierced with casement windows, over which roses had climbed in order to +bind the wanderer to the soil. It had been painted by the sun and the +wind and the salt air, so that its color depended upon the day, and it +was sometimes dull and almost black, or blue-black, under a lowering sky, +and again a golden brown, especially at sunset, and Edith, feeling its +character rather than its appearance to ordinary eyes, had named it the +Golden House. Nature is such a beautiful painter of wood. + +With Edith went one of her Baltimore cousins, a young kindergarten +teacher of fine intelligence and sympathetic manner, who brought to her +work a long tradition of gentle breeding and gayety and simplicity-- +qualities which all children are sure to recognize. What a hopeful thing +it is, by-the-way, in the world, that all conditions of people know a +lady at sight! Jack found the place delightful. He liked its +quaintness, the primitiveness of the farmer-fisherman neighbors, he liked +the sea. And then he could run up to the city any morning and back at +night. He spent the summer with Edith at the Golden House. This was his +theory. When he went to town in the morning he expected to return at +night. But often he telegraphed in the afternoon that he was detained by +business; he had to see Henderson, or Mavick was over from Washington. +Occasionally, but not often, he missed the train. He had too keen a +sense of the ridiculous to miss the train often. When he was detained +over for two or three days, or the better part of the week, he wrote +Edith dashing, hurried letters, speaking of ever so many places he had +been to and ever so many people he had seen--yes, Carmen and Miss Tavish +and everybody who was in town, and he did not say too much about the hot +city and its discomforts. + +Henderson's affairs kept him in town, Miss Tavish still postponed Bar +Harbor, and Carmen willingly remained. She knew the comfort of a big New +York house when the season is over, when no social duties are required, +and one is at leisure to lounge about in cool costumes, to read or dream, +to open the windows at night for the salt breeze from the bay, to take +little excursions by boat or rail, to dine al fresco in the garden of +some semi-foreign hotel, to taste the unconventional pleasures of the +town, as if one were in some foreign city. She used to say that New York +in matting and hollands was almost as nice as BudaPesth. These were +really summer nights, operatic sorts of nights, with music floating in +the air, gay groups in the streets, a stage imitation of nature in the +squares with the thick foliage and the heavy shadows cast on the asphalt +by the electric lights, the brilliant shops, the nonsense of the summer +theatres, where no one expected anything, and no one was disappointed, +the general air of enjoyment, and the suggestion of intrigue. Sometimes, +when Mavick was over, a party was made up for the East Side, to see the +foreign costumes, the picturesque street markets, the dime museums, and +the serious, tragical theatres of the people. The East Side was left +pretty much to itself, now that the winter philanthropists had gone away, +and was enjoying its summer nights and its irresponsible poverty. + +They even looked in at Father Damon's chapel, the dimly lighted fragrant +refuge from the world and from sin. Why not? They were interested in +the morals of the region. Had not Miss Tavish danced for one of the +guilds; and had not Carmen given Father Damon a handsome check in support +of his mission? It was so satisfactory to go into such a place and see +the penitents kneeling here and there, the little group of very plainly +dressed sinners attracted by Father Damon's spiritual face and unselfish +enthusiasm. Carmen said she felt like kneeling at one of the little +boxes and confessing--the sins of her neighbors. And then the four- +Carmen, Miss Tavish, Mavick, and Jack--had a little supper at Wherry's, +which they enjoyed all the more for the good action of visiting the East +Side--a little supper which lasted very late, and was more and more +enjoyed as it went on, and was, in fact, so gay that when the ladies were +set down at their houses, Jack insisted on dragging Mavick off to the +Beefsteak Club and having something manly to drink; and while they drank +he analyzed the comparative attractions of Carmen and Miss Tavish; he +liked that kind of women, no nonsense in them; and presently he wandered +a little and lost the cue of his analysis, and, seizing Mavick by the +arm, and regarding him earnestly, in a burst of confidence declared that, +notwithstanding all appearances, Edith was the dearest girl in the world. + +It was at this supper that the famous society was formed, which the +newspapers ridiculed, and which deceived so many excellent people in New +York because it seemed to be in harmony with the philanthropic endeavor +of the time, but which was only an expression of the Mephistophelian +spirit of Carmen--the Society for Supplying Two Suspenders to Those who +have only One. + +By the end of June there was no more doubt about the heat of the town +than about its odors. The fashionable residence part was dismantled and +deserted. At least miles and miles of houses seemed to be closed. +Few carriages were seen in this quarter, the throngs of fashion had +disappeared, comparatively few women were about, and those that appeared +in the Sunday promenade were evidently sight-seers and idlers from other +quarters; the throng of devotees was gone from the churches, and indeed +in many of them services were suspended till a more convenient season. +The hotels, to be sure, were full of travelers, and the club-houses had +more habitues than usual, and were more needed by the members whose +families had gone into the country. + +Notwithstanding the silence and vacation aspect of up-town, the public +conveyances were still thronged, and a census would have shown no such +diminution of population as seemed. Indeed, while nobody was in town, +except accidentally, the greater portion of it presented a more animated +appearance than usual, especially at night, on account of the open +windows, the groups on door-steps and curb-stones, and the restless +throng in the streets-buyers and sellers and idlers. To most this +outdoor life was a great enjoyment, and to them the unclean streets with +the odors and exhalations of decay were homelike and congenial. Nor did +they seem surprised that a new country should so completely reproduce the +evil smells and nastiness of the old civilization. It was all familiar +and picturesque. Work still went on in the crowded tenement-houses, and +sickness simply changed its character, death showing an increased +friendliness to young children. Some impression was of course made by +the agents of various charities, the guilds and settlements bravely +strove at their posts, some of the churches kept their flags flying on +the borders of the industrial districts, the Good Samaritans of the +Fresh-air Fund were active, the public dispensaries did a thriving +business, and the little band of self-sacrificing doctors, most of them +women, went their rounds among the poor, the sick, and the friendless. + +Among them Ruth Leigh was one who never took a vacation. There was no +time for it. The greater the heat, the more noisome the town, the more +people became ill from decaying food and bad air and bad habits, the more +people were hungry from improvidence or lack of work, the more were her +daily visits a necessity; and though she was weary of her monotonous +work, and heart-sick at its small result in such a mass, there never came +a day when she could quit it. She made no reputation in her profession +by this course; perhaps she awoke little gratitude from those she served, +and certainly had not so much of their confidence as the quacks who +imposed upon them and took their money; and she was not heartened much by +hope of anything better in this world or any other; and as for pay, if +there was enough of that to clothe her decently, she apparently did not +spend it on herself. + +It was, in short, wholly inexplicable that this little woman should +simply go about doing good, without any ulterior purpose whatever, not +even notoriety. Did she love these people? She did not ever say +anything about that. In the Knights of Labor circle, and in the little +clubs for the study of social questions, which she could only get leisure +to attend infrequently, she was not at all demonstrative about any +religion of humanity. Perhaps she simply felt that she was a part of +these people, and that whether they rejected her or received her, there +was nothing for her to do but to give herself to them. She would +probably have been surprised if Father Damon had told her that she was in +this following a great example, and there might have been a tang of +agnostic bitterness in her reply. When she thought of it the condition +seemed to her hopeless, and the attitude of what was called civilization +towards it so remorseless and indifferent, and that of Christianity so +pharisaical. If she ever lost her temper, it was when she let her mind +run in this nihilistic channel, in bitterness against the whole social +organization, and the total outcome of civilization so far as the mass of +humanity is concerned. + +One day Father Damon climbed up to the top of a wretched tenement in +Baxter Street in search of a German girl, an impulsive and pretty girl of +fifteen, whom he had missed for several days at the chapel services. +He had been in the room before. It was not one of the worst, for though +small and containing a cook-stove, a large bed, and a chest of drawers, +there was an attempt to make it tidy. In a dark closet opening out from +it was another large bed. As he knocked and opened the door, he saw that +Gretchen was not at home. Her father sat in a rocking-chair by an open +window, on the sill of which stood a pot of carnations, the Easter gift +of St. George's, a wax-faced, hollow-eyed man of gentle manners, who +looked round wearily at the priest. The mother was washing clothes in a +tub in one corner; in another corner was a half-finished garment from a +slop-shop. The woman alternated the needle at night and the tub in the +daytime. Seated on the bed, with a thin, sick child in her arms, was Dr. +Leigh. As she looked up a perfectly radiant smile illuminated her +usually plain face, an unworldly expression of such purity and happiness +that she seemed actually beautiful to the priest, who stopped, +hesitating, upon the threshold. + +"Oh, you needn't be afraid to come in, Father Damon," she cried out; "it +isn't contagious--only rash." + +Father Damon, who would as readily have walked through a pestilence as in +a flower-garden, only smiled at this banter, and replied, after speaking +to the sick man, and returning in German the greeting of the woman, who +had turned from the tub, "I've no doubt you are disappointed that it +isn't contagious!" And then, to the mother: " Where is Gretchen? She +doesn't come to the chapel." + +"Nein," replied the woman, in a mixture of German and English, "it don't +come any more in dot place; it be in a shtore now; it be good girl." + +"What, all day?" + +"Yaas, by six o'clock, and abends so spate. Not much it get, but my man +can't earn nothing any more." And the woman, as she looked at him, wiped +her eyes with the corner of her apron. + +"But, on Sunday?" Father Damon asked, still further. + +"Vell, it be so tired, and goed up by de Park with Dick Loosing and dem +oder girls." + +"Don't you think it better, Father Damon," Dr. Leigh interposed, "that +Gretchen should have fresh air and some recreation on Sunday?" + +"Und such bootiful tings by de Museum," added the mother. + +"Perhaps," said he, with something like a frown on his face, and then +changed the subject to the sick child. He did not care to argue the +matter when Dr. Leigh was present, but he resolved to come again and +explain to the mother that her daughter needed some restraining power +other than her own impulse, and that without religious guidance she was +pretty certain to drift into frivolous and vulgar if not positively bad +ways. The father was a free-thinker; but Father Damon thought he had +some hold on the mother, who was of the Lutheran communion, but had +followed her husband so far as to become indifferent to anything but +their daily struggle for life. Yet she had a mother's instinct about the +danger to her daughter, and had been pleased to have her go to Father +Damon's chapel. + +And, besides, he could not bring himself in that presence to seem to +rebuke Ruth Leigh. Was she not practically doing what his Lord did-- +going about healing the sick, sympathizing with the poor and the +discouraged, taking upon herself the burden of the disconsolate, +literally, without thought of self, sharing, as it were, the misery and +sin of this awful city? And today, for the first time, he seemed to have +seen the woman in her--or was it the saint? and he recalled that +wonderful illumination of her plain face that made her actually beautiful +as she looked up from the little waif of humanity she held in her arms. +It had startled him, and struck a new chord in his heart, and planted a +new pang there that she had no belief in a future life. + +It did not occur to him that the sudden joy in her face might have been +evoked by seeing him, for it was a long time since she had seen him. Nor +did he think that the pang at his heart had another cause than religious +anxiety. Ah, priest and worldly saint, how subtle and enduring are the +primal instincts of human nature! + +"Yes," he said, as they walked away, in reply to her inquiry as to his +absence, "I have been in retreat a couple of weeks." + +"I suppose," she said, softly, "you needed the rest; though," and she +looked at him professionally, "if you will allow me to say it, it seems +to me that you have not rested enough." + +"I needed strength"--and it was the priest that spoke--" in meditation +and prayer to draw upon resources not my own." + +"And in fasting, too, I dare say," she added, with a little smile. + +"And why not?" he asked. + +"Pardon me," she said; "I don't pretend to know what you need. I need to +eat, though Heaven knows it's hard enough to keep up an appetite down +here. But it is physical endurance you need for the work here. Do you +think fasting strengthens you to go through your work night and day?" + +"I know I couldn't do it on my own strength." And Dr. Leigh recalled +times when she had seen him officiating in the chapel apparently +sustained by nothing but zeal and pure spirit, and wondered that he did +not faint and fall. And faint and fall he did, she was sure, when the +service was over. + +"Well, it may be necessary to you, but not as an example to these people. +I see enough involuntary fasting." + +"We look at these people from different points of view, I fear." And +after a moment he said: "But, doctor, I wanted to ask you about Gretchen. +You see her?" + +"Occasionally. She works too many hours, but she seems to be getting on +very well, and brings her mother all she earns." + +"Do you think she is able to stand alone?" + +Dr. Leigh winced a little at this searching question, for no one knew +better than she the vulgarizing influence of street life and chance +associations upon a young girl, and the temptations. She was even forced +to admit the value in the way of restraint, as a sort of police force, +of the church and priestly influence, especially upon girls at the +susceptible age. But she knew that Father Damon meant something more +than this, and so she answered: + +"But people have got to stand alone. She might as well begin." + +"But she is so young." + +"Yes, I know. She is in the way of temptation, but so long as she works +industriously, and loves her mother, and feels the obligation, which the +poor very easily feel, of doing her share for the family, she is not in +so much moral danger as other girls of her age who lead idle and self- +indulgent lives. The working-girls of the city learn to protect +themselves." + +"And you think this is enough, without any sort of religion--that this +East Side can go on without any spiritual life?" + +Ruth Leigh made a gesture of impatience. In view of the actual struggle +for existence she saw around her, this talk seemed like cant. And she +said: + +"I don't know that anything can go on. Let me ask you a question, Father +Damon. Do you think there is any more spirituality, any more of the +essentials of what you call Christianity, in the society of the other +side than there is on the East Side?" + +"It is a deep question, this of spirituality," replied Father Damon, who +was in the depths of his proselyting action a democrat and in sympathy +with the people, and rated quite at its full value the conventional +fashion in religion. "I shouldn't like to judge, but there is a great +body of Christian men and women in this city who are doing noble work." + +"Yes," replied the little doctor, bitterly, "trying to save themselves. +How many are trying to save others--others except the distant and foreign +sinners?" + +"You surely cannot ignore," replied the father, still speaking mildly, +"the immense amount of charitable work done by the churches!" + +"Yes, I know; charity, charity, the condescension of the rich to the +poor. What we want are understanding, fellowship, and we get alms! +If there is so much spirituality as you say, and Christianity is what you +say it is today, how happens it that this side is left in filth and +misery and physical wretchedness? You know what it is, and you know the +luxury elsewhere. And you think to bridge over the chasm between classes +with flowers, in pots, yes, and Bible-readers and fashionable visitors +and little aid societies--little palliatives for an awful state of +things. Why, look at it! Last winter the city authorities hauled off +the snow and the refuse from the fashionable avenues, and dumped it down +in the already blockaded and filthy side streets, and left us to struggle +with the increased pneumonia and diphtheria, and general unsanitary +conditions. And you wonder that the little nihilist groups and labor +organizations and associations of agnostics, as you call them, meeting to +study political economy and philosophy, say that the existing state of +things has got to be overturned violently, if those who have the power +and the money continue indifferent." + +"I do not wonder," replied Father Damon, sadly. "The world is evil, and I +should be as despairing as you are if I did not know there was another +life and another world. I couldn't bear it. Nobody could." + +"And all you've got to offer, then, to this mass of wretchedness, +poverty, ignorance, at close quarters with hunger and disease, is to grin +and bear it, in hope of a reward somewhere else!" + +"I think you don't quite--" + +The doctor looked up and saw a look of pain on the priest's face. + +"Oh," she hastened to say, almost as impetuously as she had spoken +before, "I don't mean you--I don't mean you. I know what you do. Pardon +me for speaking so. I get so discouraged sometimes." They stood still a +moment, looking up and down the hot, crowded, odorful street they were +in, with its flaunting rags of poverty and inefficiency. "I see so +little result of what I can do, and there is so little help." + +"I know," said the father, as they moved along. " I don't see how you +can bear it alone." + +This touched a sore spot, and aroused Ruth Leigh's combativeness. +It seemed to her to approach the verge of cant again. But she knew the +father's absolute sincerity; she felt she had already said too much; and +she only murmured, as if to herself, "If we could only know." And then, +after a moment, she asked, "Do you, Father Damon, see any sign of +anything better here?" + +"Yes, today." And he spoke very slowly and hesitatingly. "If you will +excuse the personality of it. When I entered that room today, and saw +you with that sick child in your arms, and comprehended what it all +meant, I had a great wave of hope, and I knew, just then, that there is +coming virtue enough in the world to redeem it." + +Ruth was confounded. Her heart seemed to stand still, and then the hot +blood flowed into her face in a crimson flood. "Ah," escaped from her +lips, and she walked on more swiftly, not daring to look up. This from +him! This recognition from the ascetic father! If one of her dispensary +comrades had said it, would she have been so moved? + +And afterwards, when she had parted from him, and gone to her little +room, the hot flush again came to her neck and brow, and she saw his +pale, spiritual face, and could hear the unwonted tenderness of his +voice. Yes, Father Damon had said it of her. + + + + +XI + +The question has been very much discussed whether the devil, in temperate +latitudes, is busier in the summer or in the winter. When Congress and +the various State legislatures are in session, and the stock and grain +exchanges are most active, and society is gayest, and the churches and +benevolent and reformatory associations are most aggressive--at this +season, which is the cool season, he seems to be most animated and +powerful. + +But is not this because he is then most opposed? The stream may not flow +any faster because it is dammed, but it exhibits at the obstructed points +greater appearance of agitation. Many people are under the impression +that when they stop fighting there is a general truce: There is reason to +believe that the arch enemy is pleased with this impression, that he +likes a truce, and that it is his best opportunity, just as the weeds in +the garden, after a tempest, welcome the sun and the placidity of the +elements. It is well known that in summer virtue suffers from inertia, +and that it is difficult to assemble the members of any vigilant +organization, especially in cities, where the flag of the enemy is never +lowered. But wherever the devil is there is always a quorum present for +business. It is not his plan to seek an open fight, and many observers +say that he gains more ground in summer than in any other season, and +this notwithstanding people are more apt to lose their tempers, and even +become profane, in the aggravations of what is known as spring than at +any other time. The subject cannot be pursued here, but there is ground +for supposing that the devil prefers a country where the temperature is +high and pretty uniform. + +At any rate, it is true that the development of character is not arrested +by any geniality or languor of nature. By midsummer the Hendersons were +settled in Lenox, where the Blunts had long been, and Miss Tavish and her +party of friends were at Bar Harbor. Henderson was compelled to be in +the city most of the time, and Jack Delancy fancied that business +required his presence there also; but he had bought a yacht, and +contemplated a voyage, with several of the club men, up the Maine coast. +"No, I thank you," Major Fairfax had said; "I know an easier way to get +to Bar Harbor." + +Jack was irritable and restless, to be sure, in the absence of the sort +of female society he had become accustomed to; but there were many +compensations in his free-and-easy bachelor life, in his pretense of +business, which consisted in watching the ticker, as it is called, +in an occasional interview with Henderson, and in the floating summer +amusements of the relaxed city. There was nothing unusual in this life +except that he needed a little more stimulation, but this was not strange +in the summer, and that he devoted more time to poker--but everybody +knows that a person comes out about even in the game of poker if he keeps +at it long enough--there was nothing unusual in this, only it was giving +Jack a distaste for the quiet and it seemed to him the restraint of the +Golden House down by the sea. And he was more irritable there than +elsewhere. It is so difficult to estimate an interior deterioration of +this sort, for Jack was just as popular with his comrades as ever, and +apparently more prosperous. + +It is true that Jack had had other ideas when he was courting Edith +Fletcher, and at moments, at any rate, different aspirations from any he +had now. With her at that time there had been nobler aspirations about +life. But now she was his wife. That was settled. And not only that, +but she was the best woman he knew; and if she were not his wife, he +would spare no effort to win her. He felt sure of that. He did not put +it to himself in the way an Oriental would do, "That is finished"; but it +was an act done--a good act--and here was his world again, with a hundred +interests, and there were people besides Edith to be thought of, other +women and men, and affairs. Because a man was married, was he to be shut +up to one little narrow career, that of husband? Probably it did not +occur to him that women take a different view of this in the singleness +of their purpose and faith. Edith, for instance, knew or guessed that +Jack had no purpose in life that was twenty-four hours old; but she had +faith--and no amount of observation destroys this faith in women--that +marriage would inspire him with energy and ambition to take a man's place +in the world. + +With most men marriage is un fait accompli. Jack had been lucky, but +there was, no doubt, truth in an observation of Mavick's. One night as +they sat at the club Jack had asked him a leading question, apropos of +Henderson's successful career: " Mavick, why don't you get married?" +"I have never," he replied, with his usual cynical deliberation, "been +obliged to. The fact is, marriage is a curb-bit. Some horses show off +better with it, and some are enraged and kick over the traces. I cannot +decide which I would be." + +"That's true enough," said Jack, "from a bachelor's point of view of +independence, but it's really a question of matching." + +"The most difficult thing in the world--in horses. Just about impossible +in temperament and movement, let alone looks. Most men are lucky if they +get, like Henderson, a running mate." + +"I see," said Jack, who knew something about the Henderson household, +"your idea of a pair is that they should go single." + +Mavick laughed, and said something about the ideas of women changing so +much lately that nobody could tell what the relation of marriage would +become, and Jack, who began to feel that he was disloyal, changed the +subject. To do him justice, he would have been ashamed for Edith to hear +this sort of flippant and shallow talk, which wouldn't have been at all +out of place with Carmen or Miss Tavish. + +"I wanted to ask you, Mavick, as a friend, do you think Henderson is +square?" + +"How square?" + +"Well, safe?" + +"Nobody is safe. Henderson is as safe as anybody. You can rely on what +he says. But there's a good deal he doesn't say. Anything wrong?" + +"Not that I know. I've been pretty lucky. But the fact is, I've gone in +rather deep." + +"Well, it's a game. Henderson plays it, as everybody does, for himself. +I like Henderson. He plays to win, and generally does. But, you know, +if one man wins, somebody else has got to lose in this kind of industry." + +"But Henderson looks out for his friends?" + +"Yes--when it doesn't cost too much. Times may come when a man has to +look out for himself. Wealth isn't made out of nothing. There must be +streams into the reservoir. These great accumulations of one--you can +see that--must be made up of countless other men's small savings. +There's Uncle Jerry. He operates a good deal with Henderson, and they'd +incline to help each other out. But Uncle Jerry says he's got a small +pond of his own, and he's careful not to connect it with Henderson's +reservoir." + +"What do you think of Missouri?" + +"What do I think of the Milky Way? It doesn't much matter to me what +becomes of Missouri, unless Henderson should happen to get smashed in it, +and that isn't what he is there for. But when you look at the +combinations, and the dropping-off of roads that have been drained, +and the scaling down in refunding, and the rearranging, and the strikes, +how much chance do you think the small fry stand? I don't doubt that +Henderson will make a big thing out of it, and there will be lots of +howling by those who were not so smart, and the newspapers will say that +Henderson was too strong for them. What we respect nowadays are +adroitness and strength." + +"It's an exciting game," Mavick continued, after a moment's pause. +"Let me know if you get uneasy. But I'll tell you what it is, Jack; +if I had a comfortable income, I wouldn't risk it in any speculation. +There is a good deal that is interesting going on in this world, and I +like to be in it; but the best plan for a man who has anything is, as +Uncle Jerry says, to sail close and salt down." + +The fact was that Mavick's connection with Henderson was an appreciable +addition to his income, and it was not a bad thing for Henderson. +Mavick's reputation for knowing the inside of everything and being close- +mouthed actually brought him confidences; that which at first was a +clever assumption became a reality, and his reputation was so established +for being behind the scenes that he was not believed when he honestly +professed ignorance of anything. His modest disclaimer merely increased +the impression that he was deep. Henderson himself had something of the +Bismarck trait of brutal, contemptuous frankness. Mavick was never +brutal and never contemptuous, but he had a cynical sort of frankness, +which is a good deal more effectual in a business way than the oily, +plausible manner which on 'Change, as well as in politics, is distrusted +as hypocrisy. Now Uncle Jerry Hollowell was neither oily nor frank; he +was long-headed and cautious, and had a reputation for shrewdness and +just enough of plasticity of conscience to remove him out of the list of +the impracticable and over-scrupulous. This reputation that business men +and politicians acquire would be a very curious study. The world is very +complacent, and apparently worships success and votes for smartness, +but it would surprise some of our most successful men to know what a real +respect there is in the community, after all, for downright integrity. + +Even Jack, who fell into the current notion of his generation of young +men that the Henderson sort of morality was best adapted to quick +success, evinced a consciousness of want of nobility in the course he was +pursuing by not making Edith his confidante. He would have said, of +course, that she knew nothing about business, but what he meant was that +she had a very clear conception of what was honest. All the evidences of +his prosperity, shown in his greater freedom of living, were sore trials +to her. She belonged to that old class of New-Yorkers who made trade +honorable, like the merchants of Holland and Venice, and she knew also +that Jack's little fortune had come out of honest toil and strict +business integrity. Could there be any happiness in life in any other +course? + +It seemed cruel to put such a problem as this upon a young woman hardly +yet out of girlhood, in the first flush of a new life, which she had +dreamed should be so noble and high and so happy, in the period which is +consecrated by the sweetest and loveliest visions and hopes that ever +come into a woman's life. + +As the summer wore on to its maximum of heat and discomfort in the city, +Edith, who never forgot to measure the hardships of others by her own +more fortunate circumstances, urged Dr. Leigh to come away from her +labors and rest a few days by the sea. The reply was a refusal, but +there was no complaint in the brief business-like note. One might have +supposed that it was the harvest-time of the doctor, if he had not known +that she gathered nothing for herself. There had never been so much +sickness, she wrote, and such an opportunity for her. She was learning a +great deal, especially about some disputed contagious diseases. She +would like to see Mrs. Delancy, and she wouldn't mind a breath of air +that was more easily to be analyzed than that she existed in, but nothing +could induce her to give up her cases. All that appeared in her letter +was her interest in her profession. + +Father Damon, who had been persuaded by Edith's urgency to go down with +Jack for a few days to the Golden House, seemed uncommonly interested in +the reasons of Dr. Leigh's refusal to come. + +"I never saw her," he said, "so cheerful. The more sickness there is, +the more radiant she is. I don't mean," he added, laughing, "in apparel. +Apparently she never thinks of herself, and positively she seems to take +no time to eat or sleep. I encounter her everywhere. I doubt if she +ever sits down, except when she drops in at the mission chapel now and +then, and sits quite unmoved on a bench by the door during vespers." + +"Then she does go there?" said Edith. + +"That is a queer thing. She would promptly repudiate any religious +interest. But I tell her she is a bit of a humbug. When I speak about +her philanthropic zeal, she says her interest is purely scientific." + +"Anyway, I believe," Jack put in, "that women doctors are less mercenary +than men. I dare say they will get over that when the novelty of coming +into the profession has worn off." + +"That is possible," said Father Damon; "but that which drives women into +professions now is the desire to do something rather than the desire to +make something. Besides, it is seldom, in their minds, a finality; +marriage is always a possibility." + +"Yes," replied Edith, "and the probability of having to support a husband +and family; then they may be as mercenary as men are." + +"Still, the enthusiasm of women," Father Damon insisted, "in hospital and +outdoor practice, the singleness of their devotion to it, is in contrast +to that of the young men-doctors. And I notice another thing in the +city: they take more interest in philanthropic movements, in the +condition of the poor, in the labor questions; they dive eagerly into +philosophic speculations, and they are more aggressively agnostics. +And they are not afraid of any social theories. I have one friend, +a skillful practitioner they tell me, a linguist, and a metaphysician, +a most agreeable and accomplished woman, who is in theory an extreme +nihilist, and looks to see the present social and political order upset." + +"I don't see," Jack remarked, "what women especially are to gain by such +a revolution." + +"Perhaps independence, Jack," replied Edith. "You should hear my club of +working-girls, who read and think much on these topics, talk of these +things." + +"Yes," said Father Damon, "you toss these topics about, and discuss them +in the magazines, and fancy you are interested in socialistic movements. +But you have no idea how real and vital they are, and how the dumb +discontent of the working classes is being formulated into ideas. +It is time we tried to understand each other." + +Not all the talk was of this sort at the Golden House. There were three +worlds here--that of Jack, to which Edith belonged by birth and tradition +and habit; that of which we have spoken, to which she belonged by +profound sympathy; and that of Father Damon, to which she belonged by +undefined aspiration. In him was the spiritual element asserting itself +in a mediaeval form, in a struggle to mortify and deny the flesh and yet +take part in modern life. Imagine a celibate and ascetic of the +fifteenth century, who knew that Paradise must be gained through poverty +and privation and suffering, interesting himself in the tenement-house +question, in labor leagues, and the single tax. + +Yet, hour after hour, in those idle summer days, when nature was in a +mood that suggested grace and peace, when the waves lapsed along the +shore and the cicada sang in the hedge, did Father Damon unfold to Edith +his ideas of the spiritualization of modern life through a conviction of +its pettiness and transitoriness. How much more content there would be +if the poor could only believe that it matters little what happens here +if the heart is only pure and fixed on the endless life. + +"Oh, Father Damon," replied Edith, with a grave smile, "I think your +mission ought to be to the rich." + +"Yes," he replied, for he also knew his world, "if I wanted to make my +ideas fashionable; but I want to make them operative. By-and-by," he +added, also with a smile, "we will organize some fishermen and carpenters +and tailors on a mission to the rich." + +Father Damon's visit was necessarily short, for his work called him back +to town, and perhaps his conscience smote him a little for indulging in +this sort of retreat. By the middle of August Jack's yacht was ready, +and he went with Mavick and the Van Dams and some other men of the club +on a cruise up the coast. Edith was left alone with her Baltimore +friend. + +And yet not alone. As she lay in her hammock in those dreamy days a new +world opened to her. It was not described in the chance romance she took +up, nor in the volume of poems she sometimes held in her hand, with a +finger inserted in the leaves. Of this world she felt herself the centre +and the creator, and as she mused upon its mysteries, life took a new, +strange meaning to her. It was apt to be a little hazy off there in the +watery horizon, and out of the mist would glide occasionally a boat, +and the sun would silver its sails, and it would dip and toss for half an +hour in the blue, laughing sea, and then disappear through the mysterious +curtain. Whence did it come? Whither had it gone? Was life like that? +Was she on the shore of such a sea, and was this new world into which she +was drifting only a dream? By her smile, by the momentary illumination +that her sweet thoughts made in her lovely, hopeful face, you knew that +it was not. Who can guess the thoughts of a woman at such a time? Are +the trees glad in the spring, when the sap leaps in their trunks, and the +buds begin to swell, and the leaves unfold in soft response to the +creative impulse? The miracle is never old nor commonplace to them, nor +to any of the human family. The anticipation of life is eternal. The +singing of the birds, the blowing of the south wind, the sparkle of the +waves, all found a response in Edith's heart, which leaped with joy. And +yet there was a touch of melancholy in it all, the horizon was so vast, +and the mist of uncertainty lay along it. Literature, society, +charities, all that she had read and experienced and thought, was nothing +to this, this great unknown anxiety and bliss, this saddest and sweetest +of all human experiences. She prayed that she might be worthy of this +great distinction, this responsibility and blessing. + +And Jack, dear Jack, would he love her more? + + + + +XII + +Although Father Damon had been absent from his charge only ten days, it +was time for him to return. If he had not a large personal following, he +had a wide influence. If comparatively few found their way to his +chapel, he found his way to many homes; his figure was a familiar one in +the streets, and his absence was felt by hundreds who had no personal +relations with him, but who had be come accustomed to seeing him go about +on his errands of encouragement, and probably had never realized how much +the daily sight of him had touched them. The priestly dress, which may +once have provoked a sneer at his effeminacy, had now a suggestion of +refinement, of unselfish devotion, of consecration to the service of the +unfortunate, his spiritual face appealed to their better natures, and the +visible heroism that carried his frail figure through labors that would +have worn out the stoutest physique stirred in the hearts of the rudest +some comprehension of the reality of the spirit. + +It may not have occurred to them that he was of finer clay than they-- +perhaps he was not--but his presence was in their minds a subtle +connection and not a condescending one, rather a confession of +brotherhood, with another world and another view of life. They may not +have known that their hearts were stirred because he had the gift of +sympathy. + +And was it an unmanly trait that he evoked in men that sentiment of +chivalry which is never wanting in the roughest community for a pure +woman? Wherever Father Damon went there was respect for his purity and +his unselfishness, even among those who would have been shamefaced if +surprised in any exhibition of softness. + +And many loved him, and many depended on him. Perhaps those who most +depended on him were the least worthy, and those who loved him most were +least inclined to sacrifice their own reasonable view of life to his own +sublimated spiritual conception. It was the spirit of the man they +loved, and not the creed of the priest. The little chapel in its subdued +lights and shadows, with confessionals and crosses and candles and +incense, was as restful a refuge as ever to the tired and the dependent; +but wanting his inspiring face and voice, it was not the same thing, and +the attendance always fell away when he was absent. There was needed +there more than elsewhere the living presence. + +He was missed, and the little world that missed him was astray. The +first day of his return his heart was smitten by the thinness of the +congregation. Had he, then, accomplished nothing; had he made no +impression, established in his shifting flock no habit of continuance in +well-doing that could survive even his temporary withdrawal? The fault +must be his. He had not sufficiently humiliated and consecrated himself, +and put under all strength of the flesh and trust in worldly +instrumentalities. There must be more prayer, more vigils, more fasting, +before the power would come back to him to draw these wandering minds to +the light. And so in the heat of this exhausting August, at the time +when his body most needed re-enforcement for the toil he required of it, +he was more rigid in his spiritual tyranny and contempt of it. + +Ruth Leigh was not dependent upon Father Damon, but she also learned how +long ten days could be without a sight of him. When she looked into his +chapel occasionally she realized, as never before, how much in the air +his ceremonies and his creed were. There was nothing there for her +except his memory. And she knew when she stepped in there, for her cool, +reasoning mind was honest, that it was the thought of him that drew her +to the place, and that going there was a sentimental indulgence. What +she would have said was that she admired, loved Father Damon on account +of his love for humanity. It was a common saying of all the professional +women in her set, and of the working-girls, that they loved Father Damon. +It is a comfort to women to be able to give their affection freely where +conventionalities and circumstances make the return of it in degree +unlikely. + +At the close of a debilitating day Dr. Leigh found herself in the +neighborhood of the mission chapel. She was tired and needed to rest +somewhere. She knew that Father Damon had returned, but she had not seen +him, and a double motive drew her steps. The attendance was larger than +it had been recently, and she found a stool in a dark corner, and +listened, with a weary sort of consciousness of the prayers and the +singing, but not without a deeper feeling of peace in the tones of a +voice every inflection of which she knew so well. It seemed to her that +the reading cost him an effort, and there was a note of pathos in the +voice that thrilled her. Presently he advanced towards the altar rail-- +he was accustomed to do this with his little flock--and placing one hand +on the lectern, began to speak. + +At first, and this was not usual, he spoke about himself in a strain of +sincere humility, taking blame upon himself for his inability to do +effectively the great service his Master had set him to do. He meant to +have given himself more entirely to the dear people among whom he +labored; he hoped to show himself more worthy of the trust they had given +him; he was grateful for the success of his mission, but no one knew so +well as he how far short it came of being what he ought to have made it. +He knew indeed how weak he was, and he asked the aid of their sympathy +and encouragement. It seemed to be with difficulty that he said this, +and to Ruth's sympathetic ear there was an evidence of physical +exhaustion in his tone. There was in it, also, for her, a confession of +failure, the cry of the preacher, in sorrow and entreaty, that says, +"I have called so long, and ye would not listen." + +As he went on, still with an effort and feebly, there came over the +little group a feeling of awe and wonderment, and the silence was +profound. Still steadying himself by the reading-desk, he went on to +speak of other things, of those of his followers who listened, of the +great mass swirling about them in the streets who did not listen and did +not care; of the little life that now is so full of pain and hardship and +disappointment, of good intentions frustrated, of hopes that deceive, +and of fair prospects that turn to ashes, of good lives that go wrong, of +sweet natures turned to bitterness in the unaided struggle. His voice +grew stronger and clearer, as his body responded to the kindling theme in +his soul. He stepped away from the desk nearer the rail, the bowed head +was raised. "What does it matter?" he said. "It is only for a little +while, my children." Those who heard him that day say that his face +shone like that of an angel, and that his voice was like a victorious +clarion, so clear, so sweet, so inspiring, as he spoke of the life that +is to come, and the fair certainty of that City where he with them all +wished to be. + +As he closed, some were kneeling, many were crying; all, profoundly +moved, watched him as, with the benediction and the sign of the cross, he +turned and walked swiftly to the door of the sacristy. It opened, and +then Ruth Leigh heard a cry, "Father Damon! Father Damon!" and there was +a rush into the chancel. Hastening through the throng, which promptly +made way for the doctor, she found Father Damon lying across the +threshold, as he had fallen, colorless and unconscious. She at once took +command of the situation. The body was lifted to the plain couch in the +room, a hasty examination was made of pulse and heart, a vial of brandy +was produced from her satchel, and messengers were despatched for things +needed, and especially for beef-tea. + +"Is he dead, Dr. Leigh? Is he any better, doctor? What is the matter, +doctor?" + +"Want of nourishment," replied Dr. Leigh, savagely. + +The room was cleared of all except a couple of stout lads and a friendly +German woman whom the doctor knew. The news of the father's sudden +illness had spread rapidly, with the report that he had fallen dead while +standing at the altar; and the church was thronged, and the street +rapidly blocked up with a hushed crowd, eager for news and eager to give +aid. So great was the press that the police had to interfere, and push +back the throng from the door. It was useless to attempt to disperse it +with the assurance that Father Damon was better; it patiently waited to +see for itself. The sympathy of the neighborhood was most impressive, +and perhaps the thing that the public best remembers about this incident +is the pathetic solicitude of the people among whom Father Damon labored +at the rumor of his illness, a matter which was greatly elaborated by the +reporters from the city journals and the purveyors of telegraphic news +for the country. + +With the application of restoratives the patient revived. When he opened +his eyes he saw figures in the room as in a dream, and his mind struggled +to remember where he was and what had happened; but one thing was not a +dream: Dr. Leigh stood by his bedside, with her left hand on his brow +and the right grasping his own right hand, as if to pull him back to +life. He saw her face, and then he lost it again in sheer weariness at +the effort. After a few moments, in a recurring wave of strength, he +looked up again, still bewildered, and said, faintly: + +"Where am I?" + +"With friends," said the doctor. "You were a little faint, that is all; +you will be all right presently." + +She quickly prepared some nourishment, which was what he most needed, and +fed him from time to time, as he was able to receive it. Gradually he +could feel a little vigor coming into his frame; and regaining control of +himself, he was able to hear what had happened. Very gently the doctor +told him, making light of his temporary weakness. + +"The fact is, Father Damon," she said, "you've got a disease common in +this neighborhood--hunger." + +The father smiled, but did not reply. It might be so. For the time he +felt his dependence, and he did not argue the point. This dependence +upon a woman--a sort of Sister of Charity, was she not?--was not +altogether unpleasant. When he attempted to rise, but found that he was +too weak, and she said "Not yet," he submitted, with the feeling that to +be commanded with such gentleness was a sort of luxury. + +But in an hour's time he declared that he was almost himself again, +and it was decided that he was well enough to be removed to his own +apartments in the neighborhood. A carriage was sent for, and the +transfer was made, and made through a crowd in the streets, which stood +silent and uncovered as his carriage passed through it. Dr. Leigh +remained with him for an hour longer, and then left him in charge +of a young gentleman from the Neighborhood Guild, who gladly volunteered +to watch for the night. + +Ruth walked slowly home, weary now that the excitement was over, and +revolving many things in her mind, as is the custom of women. She heard +again that voice, she saw again that inspired face; but the impression +most indelible with her was the prostrate form, the pallid countenance, +the helplessness of this man whose will had before been strong enough to +compel the obedience of his despised body. She had admired his strength; +but it was his weakness that drew upon her woman's heart, and evolved a +tenderness dangerous to her peace of mind. Yet it was the doctor and not +the woman that replied to the inquiries at the dispensary. + +"Yes, it was fasting and overwork. Men are so stupid; they think they +can defy all the laws of nature, especially priests." And she determined +to be quite plain with him next day. + +And Father Damon, lying weary in his bed, before he fell asleep, saw the +faces in the dim chapel turned to him in strained eagerness the moment +before he lost consciousness; but the most vivid image was that of a +woman bending over him, with eyes of tenderness and pity, and the smile +with which she greeted his awakening. He could feel yet her hand upon +his brow. + +When Dr. Leigh called next day, on her morning rounds, she found a +brother of the celibate order, Father Monies, in charge. He was sitting +by the window reading, and when the doctor came up the steps he told her +in a low voice to enter without knocking. Father Damon was better, much +better; but he had advised him not to leave his bed, and the patient had +been dozing all the morning. The doctor asked if he had eaten anything, +and how much. The apartment was small and scantily furnished--a sort of +anchorite cell. Through the drawn doors of the next room the bed was in +sight. As they were talking in low voices there came from this room a +cheerful: + +"Good-morning, doctor." + +"I hope you ate a good breakfast," she said, as she arose and went to his +bedside. + +"I suppose you mean better than usual," he replied, with a faint attempt +at a smile. "No doubt you and Father Monies are satisfied, now you've +got me laid up." + +"That depends upon your intentions." + +"Oh, I intend to get up tomorrow." + +"If you do, without other change in your intentions, I am going to report +you to the Organized Charity as a person who has no visible means of +support." + +She had brought a bunch of violets, and as they talked she had filled a +glass with water and put them on a stand by the head of the bed. Then-- +oh, quite professionally--she smoothed out his pillows and straightened +the bedclothes, and, talking all the time, and as if quite unconscious of +what she was doing, moved about the room, putting things to rights, and +saying, in answer to his protest, that perhaps she should lose her +reputation as a physician in his eyes by appearing to be a professional +nurse. + +There was a timid knock at the door, and a forlorn little figure, clad in +a rumpled calico, with an old shawl over her head, half concealing an +eager and pretty face, stood in the doorway, and hesitatingly came in. + +"Meine Mutter sent me to see how Father Damon is," she explained; "she +could not come, because she washes." + +She had a bunch of flowers in her hand, and encouraged by the greeting of +the invalid, she came to the bedside and placed them in his outstretched +hand--a faded blossom of scarlet geranium, a bachelor's button, and a +sprig of parsley, probably begged of a street dealer as she came along. +"Some blooms," she said. + +"Bless you, my dear," said Father Damon; "they are very pretty." + +"Dey smells nice," the child exclaimed, her eyes dancing with pleasure at +the reception of her gift. She stood staring at him, and then, her eye +catching the violets, she added, "Dose is pooty, too." + +"If you can stay half an hour or so, I should like to step round to the +chapel," Father Monies said to the doctor in the front room, taking up +his hat. + +The doctor could stay. The little girl had moved a chair up to the +bedside, and sat quite silent, her grimy little hand grasped in the +father's. Ruth, saying that she hoped the father wouldn't mind, began to +put in order the front room, which the incidents of the night had +somewhat disturbed. Father Damon, holding fast by that little hand to +the world of poverty to which he had devoted his life, could not refrain +from watching her, as she moved about with the quick, noiseless way that +a woman has when she is putting things to rights. This was indeed a +novel invasion of his life. He was still too weak to reason about it +much. How good she was, how womanly! And what a sense of peace and +repose she brought into his apartment! The presence of Brother Monies +was peaceful also, but hers was somehow different. His eyes had not +cared to follow the brother about the room. He knew that she was +unselfish, but he had not noticed before that her ways were so graceful. +As she turned her face towards him from time to time he thought its +expression beautiful. Ruth Leigh would have smiled grimly if any one had +called her beautiful, but then she did not know how she looked sometimes +when her feelings were touched. It is said that the lamp of love can +illumine into beauty any features of clay through which it shines. As he +gazed, letting himself drift as in a dream, suddenly a thought shot +through his mind that made him close his eyes, and such a severe priestly +look came upon his face that the little girl, who had never taken her +eyes off him, exclaimed: + +"It is worse?" + +"No, my dear," he replied, with a reassuring smile; " at least, I hope +not." + +But when the doctor, finishing her work, drew a chair into the doorway, +and sat by the foot of his bed, the stern look still remained on his pale +face. And the doctor, she also was the doctor again, as matter of fact +as in any professional visit. + +"You are very kind," he said. + +There was a shade of impatience on her face as she replied, "But you must +be a little kind to yourself." + +"It doesn't matter." + +"But it does matter. You defeat the very work you want to do. I'm going +to report you to your order." And then she added, more lightly, "Don't +you know it is wrong to commit suicide?" + +"You don't understand," he replied. "There is more than one kind of +suicide; you don't believe in the suicide of the soul. Ah, me!" And a +shade of pain passed over his face. + +She was quick to see this. "I beg your pardon, Father Damon. It is none +of my business, but we are all so anxious to have you speedily well +again." + +Just then Father Monies returned, and the doctor rose to go. She took +the little girl by the hand and said, "Come, I was just going round to +see your father. Good-by. I shall look in again tomorrow." + +"Thank you--thank you a thousand times. But you have so much to do that +you must not bother about me." + +Whether he said this to quiet his own conscience, secretly hoping that he +might see her again on the morrow, perhaps he himself could not have +decided. + +Late the next afternoon, after an unusually weary round of visits, made +in the extreme heat and in a sort of hopeless faithfulness, Dr. Leigh +reached the tenement in which Father Damon lodged: In all the miserable +scenes of the day it had been in her mind, giving to her work a pleasure +that she did not openly acknowledge even to herself, that she should see +him. + +The curtains were down, and there was no response to her knock, except +from a door in the passage opposite. A woman opened the door wide enough +to show her head and to make it evident that she was not sufficiently +dressed to come out, and said that Father Damon had gone. He was very +much better, and his friend had taken him up-town. Dr. Leigh thanked +her, and said she was very glad. + +She was so glad that, as she walked away, scarcely heeding her steps or +conscious of the chaffing, chattering crowd, all interest in her work and +in that quarter of the city seemed dead. + + + + +XIII + +It is well that there is pleasure somewhere in the world. It is possible +for those who have a fresh-air fund of their own to steam away in a +yacht, out of the midsummer ennui and the weary gayety of the land. +It is a costly pleasure, and probably all the more enjoyed on that +account, for if everybody had a yacht there would be no more feeling of +distinction in sailing one than in going to any of the second-rate +resorts on the coast. There is, to be sure, some ennui in yachting on a +rainy coast, and it might be dull but for the sensation created by +arrivals at watering-places and the telegraphic reports of these +sensations. + +If there was any dullness on the Delancy yacht, means were taken to +dispel it. While still in the Sound a society was formed for the +suppression of total abstinence, and so successful was this that Point +Judith was passed, in a rain and a high and chopping sea, with a kind of +hilarious enjoyment of the commotion, which is one of the things desired +at sea. When the party came round to Newport it declared that it had had +a lovely voyage, and inquiry brought out the great general principle, +applicable to most coast navigation for pleasure, that the enjoyable way +to pass Point Judith is not to know you are passing Point Judith. + +Except when you land, and even after you have got your sea-legs on, there +is a certain monotony in yachting, unless the weather is very bad, and +unless there are women aboard. A party of lively women make even the sea +fresh and entertaining. Otherwise, the game of poker is much what it is +on land, and the constant consulting of charts and reckoning of speed +evince the general desire to get somewhere--that is, to arrive at a +harbor. In the recollections of this voyage, even in Jack's +recollections of it after he had paid the bills, it seemed that it had +been simply glorious, free from care, generally a physical setting-up +performance, and a lark of enormous magnitude. And everybody envied the +fortunate sailors. + +Mavick actually did enjoy it, for he had that brooding sort of nature, +that self-satisfied attitude, that is able to appropriate to its own uses +whatever comes. And being an unemotional and very tolerable sailor, +he was able to be as cynical at sea as on land, and as much of an oracle, +in his wholly unobtrusive way. The perfect personal poise of Mavick, +which gave him an air of patronizing the ocean, and his lightly held +skeptical view of life, made his company as full of flavor on ship as it +was on shore. He didn't know anything more about the weather than the +Weather Bureau knows, yet the helmsman of the yacht used to consult him +about the appearances of the sky and a change of wind with a confidence +in his opinion that he gave to no one else on board. And Mavick never +forfeited this respect by being too positive. It was so with everything; +he evidently knew a great deal more than he cared to tell. It is +pleasing to notice how much credit such men as Mavick obtain in the world +by circumspect reticence and a knowing manner. Jack, blundering along in +his free-hearted, emotional way, and never concealing his opinion, was +really right twice where Mavick was right once, but he never had the +least credit for wisdom. + +It was late in August that the Delancy yacht steamed into the splendid +Bar Harbor, making its way slowly through one of the rare fogs which are +sometimes seen by people who do not own real estate there. Even before +they could see an island those on board felt the combination of mountain +and sea air that makes this favored place at once a tonic and a sedative +to the fashionable world. + +The party were expected at Bar Harbor. It had been announced that the +yacht was on its way, and some of the projected gayeties were awaiting +its coming, for the society reenforcement of the half-dozen men on board +was not to be despised. The news went speedily round that Captain +Delancy's flag was flying at the anchorage off the landing. + +Among the first to welcome them as they landed and strolled up to the +hotel was Major Fairfax. + +"Oh yes," he said; " we are all here--that is, all who know where they +ought to be at the right moment." + +To the new-comers the scene was animated. The exotic shops sparkled with +cheap specialties; landaus, pony-phaetons, and elaborate buckboards +dashed through the streets; aquatic and law-tennis costumes abounded. +If there was not much rowing and lawn-tennis, there was a great deal of +becoming morning dressing for these sports, and in all the rather aimless +idleness there was an air of determined enjoyment. Even here it was +evident that there was a surplus of women. These lovers of nature, in +the summer season, who had retired to this wild place to be free from the +importunities of society, betrayed, Mavick thought, the common instinct +of curiosity over the new arrival, and he was glad to take it as an +evidence that they loved not nature less but man more. Jack tripped up +this ungallant speech by remarking that if Mavick was in this mood he did +not know why he came ashore. And Van Dam said that sooner or later all +men went ashore. This thin sort of talk was perhaps pardonable after the +weariness of a sea voyage, but the Major promptly said it wouldn't do. +And the Major seemed to be in charge of the place. + +"No epigrams are permitted. We are here to enjoy ourselves. I'm ordered +to bring the whole crew of you to tea at the Tavish cottage." + +"Anybody else there?" asked Jack, carelessly. + +"Well, it's the most curious coincidence, but Mrs. Henderson arrived last +night; Henderson has gone to Missouri." + +"Yes, he wrote me to look out for his wife on this coast," said Mavick. + +"You kept mighty still about it," said Jack. + +"So did you," retorted Mavick. + +"It is very curious," the Major explained, "how fashionable intelligence +runs along this coast, apparently independent of the telegraph; everybody +knows where everybody else is." + +The Tavish cottage was a summer palace of the present fashion, but there +was one good thing about it: it had no tower, nor any make-believe +balconies hung on the outside like bird-cages. The rooms were spacious, +and had big fireplaces, and ample piazzas all round, so that the sun +could be courted or the wind be avoided at all hours of the day. It was, +in short, not a house for retirement and privacy, but for entertainment. +It was furnished luxuriously but gayly, and with its rugs and portieres +and divans it reminded Mavick of an Oriental marquee. Miss Tavish called +it her tepee, an evolution of the aboriginal dwelling. She liked to +entertain, and she never appeared to better advantage than when her house +was full, and something was going on continually-lively breakfasts and +dinners, dances, theatricals, or the usual flowing in and out of callers +and guests, chattering groups, and flirtatious couples. It was her idea +of repose from the winter's gayety, and in it she sustained the role of +the non-fatigueable society girl. It is a performance that many working- +girls regard with amazement. + +There was quite a flutter in the cottage, as there always is when those +who know each other well meet under new circumstances after a short +separation. + +"We are very glad to see you," Miss Tavish said, cordially; "we have been +awfully dull." + +"That is complimentary to me," said the Major. + +"You can judge the depths we have been in when even the Major couldn't +pull us out," she retorted. "Without him we should have simply died." + +"And it would have been the liveliest obsequies I ever attended." + +Carmen was not effusive in her greeting; she left that role to Miss +Tavish, taking for herself that of confidential friend. She was almost +retiring in her manner, but she made Jack feel that she had a strong +personal interest in his welfare, and she asked a hundred questions about +the voyage and about town and about Edith. + +"I'm going to chaperon you up here," she said, "for Miss Tavish will lead +you into all sorts of wild adventures." + +There was that in the manner of the demure little woman when she made +this proposal that convinced Jack that under her care he would be +perfectly safe--from Miss Tavish. + +After cigarettes were lighted she contrived to draw Mavick away to the +piazza. She was very anxious to know what Henderson's latest moves were. +Mavick was very communicative, and told her nothing that he knew she did +not already know. And she was clever enough to see, without any apparent +distrust, that whatever she got from him must be in what he did not say. +As to Jack's speculations, she made little more progress. Jack gave +every sign of being prosperous; he entertained royally on his yacht. + +Mavick himself was puzzled to know whether Carmen really cared for Jack, +or whether she was only interested as in a game, one of the things that +amused her life to play, to see how far he would go, and to watch his +ascension or his tumble. Mavick would have been surprised if he had +known that as a result of this wholly agreeable and confidential talk, +Carmen wrote that night in a letter to her husband: + +"Your friend Mavick is here. What a very clever man he is! If I were +you I would keep an eye on him." + +A dozen plans were started at the tea for relieving the tedium of the +daily drives and the regulation teas and receptions. For one thing, +weather permitting, they would all breakfast at twelve on the yacht, and +then sail about the harbor, and come home in the sunset. + +The day was indeed charming, so stimulating as to raise the value of real +estate, and incite everybody to go off in search of adventure, in wagons, +in walking parties, in boats. There is no happiness like the +anticipation of pleasure begot by such a morning. Those who live there +said it was regular Bar Harbor weather. + +Captain Delancy was on deck to receive his guests, who came out in small +boats, chattering and fluttering and "ship-ahoying," as gay in spirits as +in apparel. Anything but high spirits and nonsense would be unpardonable +on such a morning. Breakfast was served on deck, under an awning, in +sight of the mountains, the green islands, the fringe of breaking sea in +the distant opening, the shimmer and sparkle of the harbor, the white +sails of pleasure-boats, the painted canoes, the schooners and coal-boats +and steamers swinging at anchor just enough to make all the scene alive. +"This is my idea," said the Major, "of going to sea in a yacht; it would +be perfect if we were tied up at the dock." + +"I move that we throw the Major overboard," cried Miss Tavish. + +"No," Jack exclaimed; " it is against the law to throw anything into the +harbor." + +"Oh, I expected Miss Tavish would throw me overboard when Mavick +appeared." + +Mavick raised his glass and proposed the health of Miss Tavish. + +"With all my heart," the Major said; "my life is passed in returning good +for evil." + +"I never knew before," and Miss Tavish bowed her acknowledgments, "the +secret of the Major's attractions." + +"Yes," said Carmen, sweetly, "he is all things to all women." + +"You don't appear to have a friend here, Major," Mavick suggested. + +"No; my friends are all foul-weather friends; come a bright day, they are +all off like butterflies. That comes of being constant." + +"That's no distinction," Carmen exclaimed; "all men are that till they +get what they want." + +"Alas! that women also in these days here become cynical! It was not so +when I was young. Here's to the ever young," and he bowed to Carmen and +Miss Tavish. + +"He's been with Ponce de Leon!" cried Miss Tavish. + +"He's the dearest man living, except a few," echoed Carmen. "The Major's +health." + +The yellow wine sparkled in the glasses like the sparkling sea, the wind +blew softly from the south, the sails in the bay darkened and flashed, +and the breakfast, it seemed to go along of itself, and erelong the +convives were eating ambrosia and sipping nectar. Van Dam told a shark +story. Mavick demonstrated its innate improbability. The Major sang a +song--a song of the forties, with a touch of sentiment. Jack, whose +cheerful voice was a little of the cider-cellar order, and who never sang +when he was sad, struck up the latest vaudeville ditty, and Carmen and +Miss Tavish joined in the chorus. + +"I like the sea," the Major declared. They all liked it. The breakfast +lasted a long time, and when they rose from the table Jack said that +presently they would take a course round the harbor. The Major remarked +that that would suit him. He appeared to be ready to go round the world. + +While they were preparing to start, Carmen and Jack strolled away to the +bow, where she perched herself, holding on by the rigging. He thought he +had never seen her look so pretty as at that moment, in her trim nautical +costume, sitting up there, swinging her feet like a girl, and regarding +him with half-mocking, half-admiring eyes. + +What were they saying? Heaven only knows. What nonsense do people so +situated usually talk? Perhaps she was warning him against Miss Tavish. +Perhaps she was protesting that Julia Tavish was a very, very old friend. +To an observer this admirable woman seemed to be on the defensive--her +most alluring attitude. It was not, one could hear, exactly sober talk; +there was laughter and raillery and earnestness mingled. It might be +said that they were good comrades. Carmen professed to like good +comradeship and no nonsense. But she liked to be confidential. + +Till late in the afternoon they cruised about among the islands, getting +different points of view of the coast, and especially different points of +view of each other, in the freedom of talk and repartee permitted on an +excursion. Before sunset they were out in the open, and could feel the +long ocean swell. The wind had risen a little, and there was a low band +of clouds in the south. The skipper told Mr. Delancy that it would be +much fresher with the sinking of the sun, but Jack replied that it +wouldn't amount to anything; the glass was all right. + + Now the great winds shoreward blow; + Now the salt tides seaward flow; + Now the wild white horses play, + Champ and chafe and toss in the spray." + +Miss Tavish was in the wheel-house, and had taken the wheel. This clever +girl knew her right hand from her left, instantly, without having to stop +and think and look at her rings, and she knew what port and starboard +meant, as orders, and exactly how to meet a wave with a turn of the +wheel. + +"I say, Captain Delancy," she cried out, "the steamer is about due. +Let's go down and meet her, and race in." + +"All right," replied Jack. "We can run round her three times and then +beat her in." + +The steamer's smoke was seen at that instant, and the yacht was headed +for it. The wind was a little fresher, but the tight little craft took +the waves like a duck, and all on board enjoyed the excitement of the +change, except the Major, who said he didn't mind, but he didn't believe +the steamer needed any escort. + +By the time the steamer was reached the sun was going down in a band of +clouds. There was no gale, but the wind increased in occasional puffs of +spite, and the waves were getting up. The skipper took the wheel to turn +the yacht in a circle to her homeward course. As this operation created +strange motions, and did not interest the Major, he said he would go +below and reflect. + +In turning, the yacht came round on the seaward side of the steamer, but +far behind. But the little craft speedily showed her breeding and +overhauled her big rival, and began to forge ahead. The little group on +the yacht waved their handkerchiefs as if in good-by, and the passengers +on the steamer cheered. As the wind was every moment increasing, the +skipper sheered away to allow plenty of sea-room between the boats. The +race appeared to be over. + +"It's a pity," said Miss Tavish. + +"Let's go round her," said Jack; "eh, skipper?" + +"If you like, sir," responded the skipper. " She can do it." + +The yacht was well ahead, but the change in the direction brought the +vessels nearer together. But there was no danger. The speed they were +going would easily bring her round away ahead of the steamer. + +But just then something happened. The yacht would not answer to her +helm. The wheel flew around without resistance. The wind, hauled now +into the east, struck her with violence and drove her sideways. The +little thing was like a chip on the sea. The rudder-chain had broken. +The yacht seemed to fly towards the long, hulking steamer. The danger +was seen there, and her helm was put hard down, and her nose began to +turn towards the shore. But it was too late. It seemed all over in an +instant. The yacht dashed bow on to the side of the steamer, quivered an +instant, and then dropped away. At the same moment the steamer slowed +down and began to turn to assist the wounded. + +The skipper of the yacht and a couple of hands rushed below. A part of +the bow had been carried away and a small hole made just above the +waterline, through which the water spurted whenever she encountered a +large wave. It was enough to waterlog her and sink her in such a sea. +The two seamen grasped whatever bedding was in reach below, rammed it +into the opening, and held it there. The skipper ran on deck, and by the +aid of the men hauled out a couple of sails and dropped them over the +bow. These would aid in keeping out the water. They could float now, +but where were they going? "Going ashore," said Mavick, grimly. And so +they were. + +"Was there a panic on board?" it was asked afterwards. Not exactly. +Among well-bred people a panic is never good form. But there were white +faces and trembling knees and anxious looks. The steamer was coming +towards them, and all eyes were fixed on that rather than on the rocks of +the still distant shore. + +The most striking incident of the moment--it seemed so to some of those +who looked back upon it--was a singular test of character, or rather of +woman's divination of character. Carmen instinctively flew to Jack and +grasped and held his arm. She knew, without stopping to reason about it, +that he would unhesitatingly imperil his life to save that of any woman. +Whatever judgment is passed upon Jack, this should not be forgotten. +And Miss Tavish; to whom did she fly in this peril? To the gallant +Major? No. To the cool and imperturbable Mavick, who was as strong and +sinewy as he was cool? No. She ran without hesitation to Van Dam, and +clung to him, recognizing instinctively, with the woman's feeling, the +same quality that Jack had. There are such men, who may have no great +gifts, but who will always fight rather than run under fire, and who will +always protect a woman. + +Mavick saw all this, and understood it perfectly, and didn't object to it +at the time--but he did not forget it. + +The task of rescue was not easy in that sea and wind, but it was +dexterously done. The steamer approached and kept at a certain distance +on the windward side. A boat was lowered, and a line was brought to the +yacht, which was soon in tow with a stout cable hitched to the steamer's +anchor windlass. + +It was all done with much less excitement than appeared from the +telegraphic accounts, and while the party were being towed home the peril +seemed to have been exaggerated, and the affair to look like an ordinary +sea incident. But the skipper said that it was one escape in a hundred. + +The captain of the steamer raised his hat gravely in reply to the little +cheer from the yacht, when Carmen and Miss Tavish fluttered their +handkerchiefs towards him. The only chaff from the steamer was roared +out by a fat Boston man, who made a funnel of his hands and shouted, "The +race is not always to the swift." + +As soon as Jack stepped ashore he telegraphed to Edith that the yacht had +had an accident in the harbor, but that no one was hurt. When he reached +the hotel he found a letter from Edith of such a tenor that he sent +another despatch, saying that she might expect him at once, leaving the +yacht behind. There was a buzz of excitement in the town, and there were +a hundred rumors, which the sight of the yacht and its passengers landed +in safety scarcely sufficed to allay. + +When Jack called at the Tavish cottage to say good-by, both the ladies +were too upset to see him. He took a night train, and as he was whirled +away in the darkness the events of the preceding forty-eight hours seemed +like a dream. Even the voyage up the coast was a little unreal--an +insubstantial episode in life. And the summer city by the sea, with its +gayety and gossip and busy idleness, sank out of sight like a phantom. +He drew his cap over his eyes, and was impatient that the rattling train +did not go faster, for Edith, waiting there in the Golden House, seemed +to stretch out her arms for him to come. Still behind him rose a picture +of that bacchanalian breakfast--the Major and Carmen and Mavick and Miss +Tavish dancing a reel on the sloping deck, then the rising wind, the +reckless daring of the race, and a vision of sudden death. He shuddered +for the first time in a quick realization of how nearly it came to being +all over with life and its pleasures. + + + + +XIV + +Edith had made no appeal to Jack to come home. His going, therefore, had +the merit m his eyes of being a voluntary response to the promptings of +his better nature. Perhaps but for the accident at Mount Desert he might +have felt that his summer pleasure was needlessly interfered with, but +the little shock of that was a real, if still temporary, moral turning- +point for him. For the moment his inclination seemed to run with his +duty, and he had his reward in Edith's happiness at his coming, the +loving hunger in her eyes, the sweet trust that animated her face, the +delightful appropriation of him that could scarcely brook a moment's +absence from her sight. There could not be a stronger appeal to his +manhood and his fidelity. + +"Yes, Jack dear, it was a little lonesome." She was swinging in her +hammock on the veranda in sight of the sea, and Jack sat by her with his +cigar. "I don't mind telling you now that there were times when I longed +for you dreadfully, but I was glad, all the same, that you were enjoying +yourself, for it is tiresome down here for a man with nothing to do but +to wait." + +"You dear thing!," said Jack, with his hand on her head, smoothing her +glossy hair and pushing it back from her forehead, to make her look more +intellectual--a thing which she hated. "Yes, dear, I was a brute to go +off at all." + +"But you wanted to comeback?" And there was a wistful look in her eyes. + +"Indeed I did," he answered, fervently, as he leaned over the hammock to +kiss the sweet eyes into content; and he was quite honest in the +expression of a desire that was nearly forty-eight hours old, and by a +singular mental reaction seemed to have been always present with him. + +"It was so good of you to telegraph me before I could see the newspaper." + +"Of course I knew the account would be greatly exaggerated;" and he made +light of the whole affair, knowing that the facts would still be capable +of shocking her, giving a comic picture of the Major's seafaring +qualities, and Carmen's and Miss Tavish's chaff of the gallant old beau. + +Even with this light sketching of the event she could not avoid a +retrospective pang of apprehension, and the tightened grasp of his hand +was as if she were holding him fast from that and all other peril. + +The days went by in content, on the whole, shaded a little by anxiety and +made grave by a new interest. It could not well be but that the prospect +of the near future, with its increase of responsibility, should create a +little uneasiness in Jack's mind as to his own career. Of this future +they talked much, and in Jack's attitude towards her Edith saw, for the +first time since her marriage, a lever of suggestion, and it came +naturally in the contemplation of their future life that she should +encourage his discontent at having no occupation. Facing, in this +waiting-time of quiet, certain responsibilities, it was impressed upon +him that the collecting of bric-a-brac was scarcely an occupation, and +that idling in clubs and studios and dangling about at the beck of +society women was scarcely a career that could save him from ultimate +ennui. To be sure, he had plenty of comrades, young fellows of fortune, +who never intended to do anything except to use it for their personal +satisfaction; but they did not seem to be of much account except in the +little circle that they ornamented. Speaking of one of them one day, +Father Damon had said that it seemed a pity a fellow of such family and +capacity and fortune should go to the devil merely for the lack of an +object in life. In this closer communion with Edith, whose ideas he +began to comprehend, Jack dimly apprehended this view, and for the moment +impulsively accepted it. + +"I'm half sorry," he said one day, "that I didn't go in for a profession. +But it is late now. Law, medicine, engineering, architecture, would take +years of study." + +"There was Armstrong," Edith suggested, "who studied law after he was +married." + +"But it looks sort of silly for a fellow who has a wife to go to school, +unless," said Jack, with a laugh, "he goes to school to his wife. Then +there's politics. You wouldn't like to see me in that." + +"I rather think, Jack"--she spoke musingly" if I were a man I should go +into politics." + +"You would have nice company!" + +"But it's the noblest career--government, legislation, trying to do +something to make the world better. Jack, I don't see how the men of New +York can stand it to be governed by the very worst elements." + +"My dear, you have no idea what practical politics is." + +"I've an idea what I'd make it. What is the good of young men of leisure +if they don't do anything for the country? Too fine to do what Hamilton +did and Jay did! I wish you could have heard my father talk about it. +Abdicate their birthright for a four-in-hand!" + +"Or a yacht," suggested Jack. + +"Well, I don't see why a man cannot own a yacht and still care something +about the decent management of his city." + +"There's Mavick in politics." + +"Not exactly. Mavick is in office for what he can make. No, I will not +say that. No doubt he is a good civil servant, and we can't expect +everybody to be unselfish. At any rate, he is intelligent. Do you +remember what Mr. Morgan said last winter?" And Edith lifted herself up +on her elbow, as if to add the weight of her attitude to her words, as +Jack was still smiling at her earnestness. + +"No; you said he was a delightful sort of pessimist." + +"Mr. Morgan said that the trouble with the governing and legislation now +in the United States is that everybody is superficially educated, and +that the people are putting their superficial knowledge into laws, and +that we are going to have a nice time with all these wild theories and +crudities on the statute-book. And then educated people say that +politics is so corrupt and absurd that they cannot have anything to do +with it." + +"And how far do you think we could get, my dear, in the crusade you +propose?" + +"I don't know that you would get anywhere. Yet I should think the young +men of New York could organize its intelligence and do something. But +you think I'm nothing but a woman." And Edith sank back, as if +abandoning the field. + +"I had thought that; but it is hard to tell, these days. Never mind, +when we go back to town I'll stir round; you'll see." + +This was an unusual sort of talk. Jack had never heard Edith break out +in this direction before, and he wondered if many women were beginning to +think of men in this way, as cowardly about their public duties. +Not many in his set, he was sure. If Edith had urged him to go into +Neighborhood Guild work, he could have understood that. Women and +ethical cranks were interested in that. And women were getting queerer +every day, beginning, as Mavick said, to take notice. However, it was +odd, when you thought over it, that the city should be ruled by the +slums. + +It was easy to talk about these things; in fact, Jack talked a great deal +about them in the clubs, and occasionally with a knot of men after dinner +in a knowing, pessimistic sort of way. Sometimes the discussions were +very animated and even noisy between these young citizens. It seemed, +sometimes, about midnight, that something might be done; but the +resolution vanished next morning when another day, to be lived through, +confronted them. They illustrated the great philosophic observation that +it is practically impossible for an idle man who has nothing to do to +begin anything today. + +To do Jack justice, this enforced detention in the country he did not +find dull exactly. To be sure it was vacation-time, and his whole life +was a vacation, and summer was rather more difficult to dispose of than +winter, for one had to make more of an effort to amuse himself. But +Edith was never more charming than in this new dependence, and all his +love and loyalty were evoked in caring for her. This was occupation +enough, even if he had been the busiest man in the world-to watch over +her, to read to her, to anticipate her fancies, to live with her in that +dream of the future which made life seem almost ideal. There came a time +when he looked back upon this month at the Golden House as the happiest +in his life. + +The talk about an occupation was not again referred to. Edith seemed +entirely happy to have Jack with her, more entirely her own than he had +ever been, and to have him just as he was. And yet he knew, by a sure +instinct, that she saw him as she thought he would be, with some aim and +purpose in life. And he made many good resolutions. + +That which was nearest him attracted him most, and very feeble now were +the allurements of the life and the company he had just left. Not that +he would break with it exactly; it was not necessary to do that; but he +would find something to do, something worth a man's doing, or, at any +rate, some occupation that should tax his time and his energies. That, +he knew, would make Edith happy, and to make her happy seemed now very +much like a worthy object in life. She was so magnanimous, so +unsuspicious, so full of all nobility. He knew she would stand by him +whatever happened. Down here her attitude to life was no longer a rebuke +to him nor a restraint upon him. Everything seemed natural and +wholesome. Perhaps his vanity was touched, for there must be something +in, him if such a woman could love him. And probably there was, though +he himself had never yet had a chance to find it out. Brought up in the +expectation of a fortune, bred to idleness as others are to industry, his +highest ambition having been to amuse himself creditably and to take life +easily, what was to hinder his being one of the multitude of "good-for- +nothings" in our modern life? If there had been war, he had spirit +enough to carry him into it, and it would have surprised no one to hear +that Jack had joined an exploring expedition to the North Pole or the +highlands of Central Asia. Something uncommon he might do if opportunity +offered. + +About his operations with Henderson he had never told Edith, and he did +not tell her now. Perhaps she divined it, and he rather wondered that +she had never asked him about his increased expenditures, his yacht, and +all that. He used to look at her steadily at times, as if he were trying +to read the secrets of her heart. + +"What are you looking at, Jack?" + +"To see if I can find out how much you know, you look so wise." + +"Do I? I was just thinking about you. I suppose that made me look so." + +"No; about life and the world generally." + +"Mighty little, Jack, except--well, I study you." + +"Do you? Then you'll presently lose your mind:" + +Jack and most men have little idea that they are windows through which +their wives see the world; and how much more of the world they know in +that way than men usually suspect or wives ever tell! + +He did not tell her about Henderson, but he almost resolved that when his +present venture was over he would let stocks alone as speculations, and +go into something that he could talk about to his wife as he talked about +stocks to Carmen. + +From the stranded mariners at Bar Harbor Captain Jack had many and +facetious letters. They wanted to know if his idea was that they should +stick by the yacht until he got leisure to resume the voyage, or if he +expected them to walk home. He had already given orders to the skipper +to patch it up and bring it to New York if possible, and he advised his +correspondents to stay by the yacht as long as there was anything in the +larder, but if they were impatient, he offered them transportation on any +vessel that would take able-bodied seamen. He must be excused from +commanding, because he had been assigned to shore duty. Carmen and Miss +Tavish wrote that it was unfair to leave them to sustain all the +popularity and notoriety of the shipwreck, and that he owed it to the +public to publish a statement, in reply to the insinuations of the +newspapers, in regard to the sea-worthiness of the yacht and the object +of this voyage. Jack replied that the only object of the voyage was to +relieve the tedium of Bar Harbor, and, having accomplished this, he would +present the vessel to Miss Tavish if she would navigate it back to the +city. + +The golden autumn days by the sea were little disturbed by these echoes +of another life, which seemed at the moment to be a very shallow one. +Yet the time was not without its undertone of anxieties, of grave perils +that seemed to sanctify it and heighten its pleasures of hope. Jack saw +and comprehended for the first time in his life the real nature of a pure +woman, the depths of tenderness and self-abnegation, the heroism and calm +trust and the nobility of an unworldly life. No wonder that he stood a +little in awe of it, and days when he wandered down on the beach, with +only the waves for company, or sat smoking in the arbor, with an unread +book in his hand, his own career seemed petty and empty. Such moods, +however, are not uncommon in any life, and are not of necessity fruitful. +It need not be supposed that Jack took it too seriously, on the one hand, +or, on the other, that a vision of such a woman's soul is ever without +influence. + +By the end of October they returned to town, Jack, and Edith with a new +and delicate attractiveness, and young Fletcher Delancy the most +wonderful and important personage probably who came to town that season. +It seemed to Edith that his advent would be universally remarked, and +Jack felt relieved when the boy was safely housed out of the public gaze. +Yes, to Edith's inexpressible joy it was a boy, and while Jack gallantly +said that a girl would have suited him just as well, he was conscious of +an increased pride when he announced the sex to his friends. This +undervaluation of women at the start is one of the mysteries of life. +And until women themselves change their point of view, it is to be feared +that legislation will not accomplish all that many of them wish. + +"So it is a boy. I congratulate you," was the exclamation of Major +Fairfax the first time Jack went down to the Union. + +"I'm glad, Major, to have your approval." + +"Oh, it's what is expected, that's all. For my part, I prefer girls. +The announcement of boys is more expensive." + +Jack understood, and it turned out in all the clubs that he had hit upon +the most expensive sex in the view of responding to congratulations. + +"It used to seem to me," said the Major, "that I must have a male heir to +my estates. But, somehow, as the years go on, I feel more like being an +heir myself. If I had married and had a boy, he would have crowded me +out by this time; whereas, if it had been a girl, I should no doubt have +been staying at her place in Lenox this summer instead of being +shipwrecked on that desert island. There is nothing, my dear boy, like a +girl well invested." + +"You speak with the feelings of a father." + +"I speak, sir, from observation. I look at society as it is, not as it +would be if we had primogeniture and a landed aristocracy. A daughter +under our arrangements is more likely to be a comfort to her parent in +his declining years than a son." + +"But you seem, Major, to have preferred a single life?" + +"Circumstances--thank you, just a drop more--we are the creatures of +circumstances. It is a long story. There were misrepresentation and +misunderstanding. It is true, sir, that at that time my property was +encumbered, but it was not unproductive. She died long ago. I have +reason to believe that her married life was not happy. I was hot-blooded +in those days, and my honor was touched, but I never blamed her. She +was, at twenty, the most beautiful woman in Virginia. I have never seen +her equal." + +This was more than the Major had ever revealed about his private life +before. He had created an illusion about himself which society accepted, +and in which he lived in apparent enjoyment of metropolitan existence. +This was due to a sanguine temperament and a large imagination. And he +had one quality that made him a favorite--a hearty enjoyment of the +prosperity of others. With regard to himself, his imagination was +creative, and Jack could not now tell whether this "most beautiful woman +of Virginia " was not evoked by the third glass, about which the Major +remarked, as he emptied it, that only this extraordinary occasion could +justify such an indulgence at this time of day. + +The courtly old gentleman had inquired about madam--indeed, the second +glass had been dedicated to "mother and child"--and he exhibited a +friendly and almost paternal interest, as he always did, in Jack. + +"By-the-way," he said, after a silence, "is Henderson in town?" + +"I haven't heard. Why?" + +"There's been a good deal of uneasiness in the Street as to what he is +doing. I hope you haven't got anything depending on him." + +"I've got something in his stocks, if that is what you mean; but I don't +mind telling you I have made something." + +"Well, it's none of my business, only the Henderson stocks have gone off +a little, as you know." + +Jack knew, and he asked the Major a little nervously if he knew anything +further. The Major knew nothing except Street rumors. Jack was uneasy, +for the Major was a sort of weathercock, and before he left the club he +wrote to Mavick. + +He carried home with him a certain disquiet, to which he had been for +months a stranger. Even the sight of Edith, who met him with a happy +face, and dragged him away at once to see how lovely the baby looked +asleep, could not remove this. It seemed strange that such a little +thing should make a change, introduce an alien element into this domestic +peace. Jack was like some other men who lose heart not when they are +doing a doubtful thing, but when they have to face the consequences-- +cases of misplaced conscience. The peace and content that he had left in +the house in the morning seemed to have gone out of it when he returned +at night. + +Next day came a reassuring letter from Mavick. + +Henderson was going on as usual. It was only a little bear movement, +which wouldn't amount to anything. Still, day after day, the bears kept +clawing down, and Jack watched the stock-list with increasing eagerness. +He couldn't decide to sacrifice anything as long as he had a margin of +profit. + +In this state of mind it was impossible to consider any of the plans he +had talked over with Edith before the baby was born. Inquiries he did +make about some sort of position or regular occupation, and these he +reported to Edith; but his heart was not in it. + +As the days went by there was a little improvement in his stocks, and his +spirits rose. But this mood was no more favorable than the other for +beginning a new life, nor did there seem to be, as he went along, any +need of it. He had an appearance of being busy every day; he rose late +and went late to bed. It was the old life. Stocks down, there was a +necessity of bracing up with whomever he met at any of the three or four +clubs in which he lounged in the afternoon; and stocks up, there was +reason for celebrating that fact in the same way. + +It was odd how soon he became accustomed to consider himself and to be +regarded as the father of a family. That, also, like his marriage, +seemed something done, and in a manner behind him. There was a +commonplaceness about the situation. To Edith it was a great event. To +Jack it was a milestone in life. He was proud of the boy; he was proud +of Edith. "I tell you, fellows," he would say at the club, "it's a great +thing," and so on, in a burst of confidence, and he was quite sincere in +this. But he preferred to be at the club and say these things rather +than pass the same hours with his adorable family. He liked to think +what he would do for that family--what luxuries he could procure for +them, how they should travel and see the world. There wasn't a better +father anywhere than Jack at this period. And why shouldn't a man of +family amuse himself? Because he was happy in his family he needn't +change all the habits of his life. + +Presently he intended to look about him for something to do that would +satisfy Edith and fill up his time; but meantime he drifted on, +alternately anxious and elated, until the season opened. The Blunts and +the Van Dams and the Chesneys and the Tavishes and Mrs. Henderson had +called, invitations had poured in, subscriptions were asked, studies and +gayeties were projected, and the real business of life was under way. + + + + +XV + +To the nurse of the Delancy boy and to his mother he was by no means an +old story or merely an incident of the year. He was an increasing +wonder--new every morning, and exciting every evening. He was the centre +of a world of solicitude and adoration. It would be scarcely too much to +say that his coming into the world promised a new era, and his traits, +his likes and dislikes, set a new standard in his court. If he had +apprehended his position his vanity would have outgrown his curiosity +about the world, but he displayed no more consciousness of his royalty +than a kicking Infanta of Spain. This was greatly to his credit in the +opinion of the nurse, who devoted herself to the baby with that +enthusiasm of women for infants which fortunately never fails, and won +the heart of Edith by her worship. And how much they found to say about +this marvel! To hear from the nurse, over and over again, what the baby +had done and had not done, in a given hour, was to Edith like a fresh +chapter out of an exciting romance. + +And the boy's biographer is inclined to think that he had rare powers of +discrimination, for one day when Carmen had called and begged to be +permitted to go up into the nursery, and had asked to take him in her +arms just for a moment, notwithstanding her soft dress and her caressing +manner, Fletcher had made a wry face and set up a howl. "How much he +looks like his father" (he didn't look like anything), Carmen said, +handing him over to the nurse. What she thought was that in manner and +disposition he was totally unlike Jack Delancy. + +When they came down-stairs, Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was in the drawing-room. +"I've had such a privilege, Mrs. Blunt, seeing the baby!" cried Carmen, +in her sweetest manner. + +"It must have been," that lady rejoined, stiffly. + +Carmen, who hated to be seen through, of all things, did not know whether +to resent this or not. But Edith hastened to the rescue of her guest. + +"I think it's a privilege." + +"And you know, Mrs. Blunt," said Carmen, recovering herself and smiling, +"that I must have some excitement this dull season." + +"I see," said Mrs. Blunt, with no relaxation of her manner; "we are all +grateful to Mrs. Delancy." + +"Mrs. Henderson does herself injustice," Edith again interposed. "I can +assure you she has a great talent for domesticity." + +Carmen did not much fancy this apology for her, but she rejoined: "Yes, +indeed. I'm going to cultivate it." + +"How is this privileged person?" Mrs. Blunt asked. + +"You shall see," said Edith. "I am glad you came, for I wanted very much +to consult you. I was going to send for you." + +"Well, here I am. But I didn't come about the baby. I wanted to consult +you. We miss you, dear, every day." And then Mrs. Blunt began to speak +about some social and charitable arrangements, but stopped suddenly." +I'll see the baby first. Good-morning, Mrs. Henderson." And she left +the room. + +Carmen felt as much left out socially as about the baby, and she also +rose to go. + +"Don't go," said Edith. "What kind of a summer have you had?" + +"Oh, very good. Some shipwrecks." + +"And Mr. Henderson? Is he well?" + +"Perfectly. He is away now. Husbands, you know, haven't so much talent +for domesticity as we have." + +"That depends," Edith replied, simply, but with that spirit and air of +breeding before which Carmen always inwardly felt defeat--"that depends +very much upon ourselves." + +Naturally, with this absorption in the baby, Edith was slow to resume her +old interests. Of course she knew of the illness of Father Damon, and +the nurse, who was from the training-school in which Dr. Leigh was an +instructor, and had been selected for this important distinction by the +doctor, told her from time to time of affairs on the East Side. Over +there the season had opened quite as usual; indeed, it was always open; +work must go on every day, because every day food must be obtained and +rent-money earned, and the change from summer to winter was only a +climatic increase of hardships. Even an epidemic scare does not +essentially vary the daily monotony, which is accepted with a dogged +fatality: + +There had been no vacation for Ruth Leigh, and she jokingly said, when at +length she got a half-hour for a visit to Edith, that she would hardly +know what to do with one if she had it. + +"We have got through very well," she added. "We always dread the summer, +and we always dread the winter. Science has not yet decided which is the +more fatal, decayed vegetables or unventilated rooms. City residence +gives both a fair chance at the poor." + +"Are not the people learning anything?" Edith asked. + +"Not much, except to bear it, I am sorry to say. Even Father Damon--" + +"Is he at work again? Do you see him often?" + +"Yes, occasionally." + +"I should so like to see him. But I interrupted you." + +"Well, Father Damon has come to see that nothing can be done without +organization. The masses"--and there was an accent of bitterness in her +use of the phrase--"must organize and fight for anything they want." + +"Does Father Damon join in this?" + +"Oh, he has always been a member of the Labor League. Now he has been at +work with the Episcopal churches of the city, and got them to agree, when +they want workmen for any purpose, to employ only union men." + +"Isn't that," Edith exclaimed, "a surrender of individual rights and a +great injustice to men not in the unions?" + +"You would see it differently if you were in the struggle. If the +working-men do not stand by each other, where are they to look for help? +What have the Christians of this city done?" and the little doctor got up +and began to pace the room. "Charities? Yes, little condescending +charities. And look at the East Side! Is its condition any better? +I tell you, Mrs. Delancy, I don't believe in charities--in any +charities." + +"It seems to me," said Edith, with a smile calculated to mollify this +vehemence, "that you are a standing refutation of your own theory." + +"Me? No, indeed. I'm paid by the dispensary. And I make my patients +pay--when they are able." + +"So I have heard," Edith retorted. "Your bills must be a terror to the +neighborhood." + +"You may laugh. But I'm establishing a reputation over there as a +working-woman, and if I have any influence, or do any little good, it's +owing to that fact. Do you think they care anything about Father Damon's +gospel?" + +"I should be sorry to think they did not," Edith said, gravely. + +"Well, very little they care. They like the man because they think he +shares their feelings, and does not sympathize with them because they are +different from him. That is the only kind of gospel that is good for +anything over there." + +"I don't think Father Damon would agree with you in that." + +"Of course he would not. He's as mediaeval as any monk. But then he is +not blind. He sees that it is never anything but personal influence that +counts. Poor fellow," and the doctor's voice softened, "he'll kill +himself with his ascetic notions. He is trying to take up the burden of +this life while struggling under the terror of another." + +"But he must be doing a great deal of good." + +"Oh, I don't know. Nothing seems to do much good. But his presence is +a great comfort. That is something. And I'm glad he is going about now +rousing opposition to what is, rather than all the time preaching +submission to the lot of this life for the sake of a reward somewhere +else. That's a gospel for the rich." + +Edith was accustomed to hear Ruth Leigh talk in this bitter strain when +this subject was introduced, and she contrived to turn the conversation +upon what she called practical work, and then to ask some particulars of +Father Damon's sudden illness. + +"He did rest," the doctor said, "for a little, in his way. But he will +not spare himself, and he cannot stand it. I wish you could induce him +to come here often--to do anything for diversion. He looks so worn." + +There was in the appeal to Edith a note of personal interest which her +quick heart did not fail to notice. And the thought came to her with a +painful apprehension. Poor thing! Poor Father Damon! + +Does not each of them have to encounter misery enough without this? + +Doesn't life spare anybody? + +She told her apprehension to Jack when he came home. + +Jack gave a long whistle. "That is a deadlock!" + +"His vows, and her absolute materialism! Both of them would go to the +stake for what they believe, or don't believe. It troubles me very +much." + +"But," said Jack, "it's interesting. It's what they call a situation. +There. I didn't mean to make light of it. I don't believe there is +anything in it. But it would be comical, right here in New York." + +"It would be tragical." + +"Comedy usually is. I suppose it's the human nature in it. That is so +difficult to get rid of. But I thought the missionary business was safe. +Though, do you know, Edith, I should think better of both of them for +having some human feeling. By-the-way, did Dr. Leigh say anything about +Henderson?" + +"No. What?" + +"He has given Father Damon ten thousand dollars. It's in strict secrecy, +but Father Damon said I might tell you. He said it was providential." + +"I thought Mr. Henderson was wholly unscrupulous and cold as ice." + +"Yes, he's got a reputation for freeze-outs. If the Street knew this it +would say it was insurance money. And he is so cynical that he wouldn't +care what the Street said." + +"Do you think it came about through Mrs. Henderson?" + +"I don't think so. She was speaking of Father Damon this morning in the +Loan Exhibition. I don't believe she knows anything about it. Henderson +is a good deal shut up in himself. They say at the Union that years ago +he used to do a good many generous things--that he is a great deal harder +than he used to be." + +This talk was before dinner. She did not ask anything now about Carmen, +though she knew that Jack had fallen into his old habit of seeing much of +her. He was less and less at home, except at dinner-time, and he was +often restless, and, she saw, often annoyed. When he was at home he +tried to make up for his absence by extra tenderness and consideration +for Edith and the boy. And this effort, and its evidence of a double if +not divided life, wounded her more than the neglect. One night, when he +came home late, he had been so demonstrative about the baby that Edith +had sent the nurse out of the room until she could coax Jack to go into +his own apartment. His fits of alternate good-humor and depression she +tried to attribute to his business, to which he occasionally alluded +without confiding in her. + +The next morning Father Damon came in about luncheon-time. He apologized +for not coming before since her return, but he had been a little upset, +and his work was more and more interesting. His eyes were bright and his +manner had quite the usual calm, but he looked pale and thinner, and so +exhausted that Edith ran immediately for a glass of wine, and began to +upbraid him for not taking better care of himself. + +"I take too much care of myself. We all do. The only thing I've got to +give is myself." + +" But you will not last." + +"That is of little moment; long or short, a man can only give himself. +Our Lord was not here very long." And then Father Damon smiled, and said +"My dear friend, I'm really doing very well. Of course I get tired. +Then I come up again. And every now and then I get a lift. Did Jack +tell you about Henderson?" + +"Yes. Wasn't it strange?" + +"I never was more surprised. He sent for me to come to his office. +Without any circumlocution, he asked me how I was getting on, and, before +I could answer, he said, in the driest business way, that he had been +thinking over a little plan, and perhaps I could help him. He had a +little money he wanted to invest-- + +"'In our mission chapel?' I asked. + +'No,' he said, without moving a muscle. 'Not that. I don't know much +about chapels, Father Damon. But I've been hearing what you are doing, +and it occurred to me that you must come across a good many cases not in +the regular charities that you could help judiciously, get them over hard +spots, without encouraging dependence. I'm going to put ten thousand +dollars into your hands, if you'll be bothered with it, to use at your +discretion.' + +"I was taken aback, and I suppose I showed it, and I said that was a +great deal of money to intrust to one man. + +"Henderson showed a little impatience. It depended upon the man. That +was his lookout. The money would be deposited, he said, in bank to my +order, and he asked me for my signature that he could send with the +deposit. + +"Of course I thanked him warmly, and said I hoped I could do some good +with it. He did not seem to pay much attention to what I was saying. He +was looking out of the window to the bare trees in the court back of his +office, and his hands were moving the papers on his table aimlessly +about. + +"' I shall know,' he said, 'when you have drawn this out. I've got a +fancy for keeping a little fund of this sort there.' And then he added, +still not looking at me, but at the dead branches, 'You might call it the +Margaret Fund.'" + +"That was the name of his first wife!" Edith exclaimed. + +"Yes, I remember. I said I would, and began to thank him again as I rose +from my chair. He was still looking away, and saying, as if to himself, +'I think she would like that.' And then he turned, and, in his usual +abrupt office manner, said: 'Good-morning, good-morning. I am very much +obliged to you.'" + +"Wasn't it all very strange!" Edith spoke, after a moment. "I didn't +suppose he cared. Do you think it was just sentiment?" + +"I shouldn't wonder. Men like Henderson do queer things. In the hearts +of such hardened men there are sometimes roots of sentiment that you +wouldn't suspect. But I don't know. The Lord somehow looks out for his +poor." + +Notwithstanding this windfall of charity, Father Damon seemed somewhat +depressed. "I wish," he said, after a pause, "he had given it to the +mission. We are so poor, and modern philanthropy all runs in other +directions. The relief of temporary suffering has taken the place of the +care of souls." + +"But Dr. Leigh said that you were interesting the churches in the labor +unions." + +"Yes. It is an effort to do something. The church must put herself into +sympathetic relations with these people, or she will accomplish nothing. +To get them into the church we must take up their burdens. But it is a +long way round. It is not the old method of applying the gospel to men's +sins." + +"And yet," Edith insisted, "you must admit that such people as Dr. Leigh +are doing a good work." + +Father Damon did not reply immediately. Presently he asked: "Do you +think, Mrs. Delancy, that Dr. Leigh has any sympathy with the higher +life, with spiritual things? I wish I could think so." + +"With the higher life of humanity, certainly." + +"Ah, that is too vague. I sometimes feel that she and those like her are +the worst opponents to our work. They substitute humanitarianism for the +gospel." + +"Yet I know of no one who works more than Ruth Leigh in the self- +sacrificing spirit of the Master." + +"Whom she denies!" The quick reply came with a flush in his pale face, +and he instantly arose and walked away to the window and stood for some +moments in silence. When he turned there was another expression in his +eyes and a note of tenderness in his voice that contradicted the severity +of the priest. It was the man that spoke. "Yes, she is the best woman I +ever knew. God help me! I fear I am not fit for my work." + +This outburst of Father Damon to her, so unlike his calm and trained +manner, surprised Edith, although she had already some suspicion of his +state of mind. But it would not have surprised her if she had known more +of men, the necessity of the repressed and tortured soul for sympathy, +and that it is more surely to be found in the heart of a pure woman than +elsewhere. + +But there was nothing that she could say, as she took his hand to bid him +good-by, except the commonplace that Dr. Leigh had expressed anxiety that +he was overworking, and that for the sake of his work he must be more +prudent. Yet her eyes expressed the sympathy she did not put in words. + +Father Damon understood this, and he went away profoundly grateful for +her forbearance of verbal expression as much as for her sympathy. But he +did not suspect that she needed sympathy quite as much as he did, and +consequently he did not guess the extent of her self-control. It would +have been an immense relief to have opened her heart to him--and to whom +could she more safely do this than to a priest set apart from all human +entanglements? --and to have asked his advice. But Edith's peculiar +strength--or was it the highest womanly instinct?--lay in her discernment +of the truth that in one relation of life no confidences are possible +outside of that relation except to its injury, and that to ask +interference is pretty sure to seal its failure. As its highest joys +cannot be participated in, so its estrangements cannot be healed by any +influence outside of its sacred compact. To give confidence outside is +to destroy the mutual confidence upon which the relation rests, and +though interference may patch up livable compromises, the bloom of love +and the joy of life are not in them. Edith knew that if she could not +win her own battle, no human aid could win it for her. + +And it was all the more difficult because it was vague and indefinite, as +the greater part of domestic tragedies are. For the most part life goes +on with external smoothness, and the public always professes surprise +when some accident, a suit at law, a sudden death, a contested will, a +slip from apparent integrity, or family greed or feminine revenge, turns +the light of publicity upon a household, to find how hollow the life has +been; in the light of forgotten letters, revealing check-books, servants' +gossip, and long-established habits of aversion or forbearance, how much +sordidness and meanness! + +Was not everything going on as usual in the Delancy house and in the +little world of which it was a part? If there had been any open neglect +or jealousy, any quarrel or rupture, or any scene, these could be +described. These would have an interest to the biographer and perhaps to +the public. But at this period there was nothing of this sort to tell. +There were no scenes. There were no protests or remonstrances or +accusations, nor to the world was there any change in the daily life of +these two. + +It was more pitiful even than that. Here was a woman who had set her +heart in all the passionate love of a pure ideal, and day by day she felt +that the world, the frivolous world, with its low and selfish aims, was +too strong for her, and that the stream was wrecking her life because it +was bearing Jack away from her. What could one woman do against the +accepted demoralizations of her social life? To go with them, not to +care, to accept Jack's idle, good-natured, easy philosophy of life and +conduct, would not that have insured a peaceful life? Why shouldn't she +conform and float, and not mind? + +To be sure, a wise woman, who has been blessed or cursed with a long +experience of life, would have known that such a course could not +forever, or for long, secure happiness, and that a man's love ultimately +must rest upon a profound respect for his wife and a belief in her +nobility. Perhaps Edith did not reason in this way. Probably it was her +instinct for what was pure and true-showing, indeed, the quality of her +love-that guided her. + +To Jack's friends he was much the same as usual. He simply went on in +his ante-marriage ways. Perhaps he drank a little more, perhaps he was a +little more reckless at cards, and it was certain that his taste for +amusing himself in second-hand book-shops and antiquity collections had +weakened. His talked-of project for some regular occupation seemed to +have been postponed, although he said to himself that it was only +postponed until his speculations, which kept him in a perpetual fever, +should put him in a position to command a business. + +Meantime he did not neglect social life--that is, the easy, tolerant +company which lived as he liked to live. There was at first some +pretense of declining invitations which Edith could not accept, but he +soon fell into the habit of a man whose family has temporarily gone +abroad, with the privileges of a married man, without the +responsibilities of a bachelor. Edith could see that he took great +credit to himself for any evenings he spent at home, and perhaps he had a +sort of support in the idea that he was sacrificing himself to his +family. Major Fairfax, whom Edith distrusted as a misleader of youth, +did not venture to interfere with Jack again, but he said to himself that +it was a blank shame that with such a wife he should go dangling about +with women like Carmen and Miss Tavish, not that the Major himself had +any objection to their society, but, hang it all, that was no reason why +Jack should be a fool. + +In midwinter Jack went to Washington on business. It was necessary to +see Mavick, and Mr. Henderson, who was also there. To spend a few weeks +at the capital, in preparation for Lent, has become a part of the program +of fashion. There can be met people like-minded from all parts of the +Union, and there is gayety, and the entertainment to be had in new +acquaintances, without incurring any of the responsibilities of social +continuance. They meet there on neutral ground. Half Jack's set had +gone over or were going. Young Van Dam would go with him. It will be +only for a few days, Jack had said, gayly, when he bade Edith good-by, +and she must be careful not to let the boy forget him. + +It was quite by accident, apparently, that in the same train were the +Chesneys, Miss Tavish, and Carmen going over to join her husband. This +gave the business expedition the air of an excursion. And indeed at the +hotel where they stayed this New York contingent made something of an +impression, promising an addition to the gayety of the season, and +contributing to the importance of the house as a centre of fashion. +Henderson's least movements were always chronicled and speculated on, +and for years he had been one of the stock subjects, out of which even +the dullest interviewers, who watch the hotel registers in all parts of +the country, felt sure that they could make an acceptable paragraph. The +arrival of his wife, therefore, was a newspaper event. + +They said in Washington at the time that Mrs. Henderson was one of the +most fascinating of women, amiable, desirous to please, approachable, and +devoted to the interests of her husband. If some of the women, residents +in established society, were a little shy of her, if some, indeed, +thought her dangerous--women are always thinking this of each other, +and surely they ought to know-nothing of this appeared in the reports. +The men liked her. She had so much vivacity, such esprit, she understood +men so well, and the world, and could make allowances, and was always an +entertaining companion. More than one Senator paid marked court to her, +more than one brilliant young fellow of the House thought himself +fortunate if he sat next her at dinner, and even cabinet officers waited +on her at supper. It could not be doubted that a smile and a +confidential or a witty remark from Mrs. Henderson brightened many an +evening. Wherever she went her charming toilets were fully described, +and the public knew as well as her jewelers the number and cost of her +diamonds, her necklaces, her tiaras. But this was for the world and for +state occasions. At home she liked simplicity. And this was what +impressed the reporters when, in the line of their public duty, they were +admitted to her presence. With them she was very affable, and she made +them feel that they could almost be classed with her friends, and that +they were her guardians against the vulgar publicity, which she disliked +and shrank from. + +There went abroad, therefore, an impression of her amiability, +her fabulous wealth in jewels and apparel, her graciousness and her +cleverness and her domesticity. Her manners seemed to the reporters +those of a "lady," and of this both her wit and freedom from prudishness +and her courteous treatment of them convinced them. And the best of all +this was that while it was said that Henderson was one of the boldest and +shrewdest of operators, and a man to be feared in the Street, he was in +his family relations one of the most generous and kind-hearted of men. + +Henderson himself had not much time for the frivolities of the season, +and he evaded all but the more conspicuous social occasions, at which +Carmen, sometimes with a little temper, insisted that he should accompany +her. "You would come here," he once said, "when you knew I was immersed +in most perplexing business." + +"And now I am here," she had replied, in a tone equally wanting in +softness, "you have got to make the best of me." + +Was Jack happy in the whirl he was in? Some days exceedingly so. Some +days he sulked, and some days he threw himself with recklessness born of +artificial stimulants into the always gay and rattling moods of Miss +Tavish. Somehow he could get no nearer to Henderson or to Mavick than +when he was in New York. Not that he could accuse Mavick of trying to +conceal anything; Mavick bore to him always the open, "all right" +attitude, but there were things that he did not understand. + +And then Carmen? Was she a little less dependent on him, in this wide +horizon, than in New York? And had he noticed a little disposition to +patronize on two or three occasions? It was absurd. He laughed at +himself for such an idea. Old Eschelle's daughter patronize him! +And yet there was something. She was very confidential with Mavick. +They seemed to have a great deal in common. It so happened that even in +the little expeditions of sightseeing these two were thrown much +together, and at times when the former relations of Jack and Carmen +should have made them comrades. They had a good deal to say to each +other, and momentarily evidently serious things, and at receptions Jack +had interrupted their glances of intelligence. But what stuff this was! +He jealous of the attentions of his friend to another man's wife! If she +was a coquette, what did it matter to him? Certainly he was not jealous. +But he was irritated. + +One day after a round of receptions, in which Jack had been specially +disgruntled, and when he was alone in the drawing-room of the hotel with +Carmen, his manner was so positively rude to her that she could not but +notice it. There was this trait of boyishness in Jack, and it was one of +the weaknesses that made him loved, that he always cried out when he was +hurt. + +Did Carmen resent this? Did she upbraid him for his manner? Did she +apologize, as if she had done anything to provoke it? She sank down +wearily in a chair and said: + +"I'm so tired. I wish I were back in New York." + +"You don't act like it," Jack replied, gruffly. + +"No. You don't understand. And now you want to make me more miserable. +See here, Mr. Delancy," and she started up in her seat and turned to him, +"you are a man of honor. Would you advise me to make an enemy of Mr. +Mavick, knowing all that he does know about Mr. Henderson's affairs?" + +"I don't see what that has got to do with it," said Jack, wavering. +"Lately your manner--" + +"Nonsense!" cried Carmen, springing up and approaching Jack with a smile +of animation and trust, and laying her hand on his shoulder. " We are +old, old friends. And I have just confided to you what I wouldn't to any +other living being. There!" And looking around at the door, she tapped +him lightly on the cheek and ran out of the room. + +Whatever you might say of Carmen, she had this quality of a wise person, +that she never cut herself loose from one situation until she was +entirely sure of a better position. + +For one reason or another Jack's absence was prolonged. He wrote often, +he made bright comments on the characters and peculiarities of the +capital, and he said that he was tired to death of the everlasting whirl +and scuffle. People plunged in the social whirlpool always say they are +weary of it, and they complain bitterly of its exactions and its tax on +their time and strength. Edith judged, especially from the complaints, +that her husband was enjoying himself. She felt also that his letters +were in a sense perfunctory, and gave her only the surface of his life. +She sought in vain in them for those evidences of spontaneous love, of +delight in writing to her of all persons in the world, the eagerness of +the lover that she recalled in letters written in other days. However +affectionate in expression, these were duty letters. Edith was not +alone. She had no lack of friends, who came and went in the common round +of social exchange, and for many of them she had a sincere affection. +And there were plenty of relatives on the father's and on the mother's +side. But for the most part they were old-fashioned, home-keeping New- +Yorkers, who were sufficient to themselves, and cared little for the set +into which Edith's marriage had more definitely placed her. In any real +trouble she would not have lacked support. She was deemed fortunate in +her marriage, and in her apparent serene prosperity it was believed that +she was happy. If she had had mother or sister or brother, it is +doubtful if she would have made either a confidant of her anxieties, +but high-spirited and self-reliant as she was, there were days when she +longed with intolerable heartache for the silent sympathy of a mother's +presence. + +It is singular how lonely a woman of this nature can be in a gay and +friendly world. She had her interests, to be sure. As she regained her +strength she took up her social duties, and she tried to resume her +studies, her music, her reading, and she occupied herself more and more +with the charities and the fortunes of her friends who were giving their +lives to altruistic work. But there was a sense of unreality in all +this. The real thing was the soul within, the longing, loving woman +whose heart was heavy and unsatisfied. Jack was so lovable, he had in +his nature so much nobility, if the world did not kill it, her life might +be so sweet, and so completely fulfill her girlish dreams. All these +schemes of a helpful, altruistic life had been in her dream, but how +empty it was without the mutual confidence, the repose in the one human +love for which she cared. + +Though she was not alone, she had no confidant. She could have none. +What was there to confide? There was nothing to be done. There was no +flagrant wrong or open injustice. Some women in like circumstances +become bitter and cynical. Others take their revenge in a career +reckless, but within social conventions, going their own way in a sort of +matrimonial truce. These are not noticeable tragedies. They are things +borne with a dumb ache of the heart. There are lives into which the show +of spring comes, but without the song of birds or the scent of flowers. +They are endured bravely, with a heroism for which the world does not +often give them credit. Heaven only knows how many noble women-noble in +this if in nothing else--carry through life this burden of an unsatisfied +heart, mocked by the outward convention of love. + +But Edith had one confidant--the boy. And he was perfectly safe; he +would reveal nothing. There were times when he seemed to understand, +and whether he did or not she poured out her heart to him. Often in the +twilight she sat by him in this silent communion. If he were asleep--and +he was not troubled with insomnia--he was still company. And when he was +awake, his efforts to communicate the dawning ideas of the queer world +into which he had come were a never-failing delight. He wanted so many +more things than he could ask for, which it was his mother's pleasure to +divine; later on he would ask for so many things he could not get. The +nurse said that he had uncommon strength of will. + +These were happy hours, imagining what the boy would be, planning what +she would make his life, hours enjoyed as a traveler enjoys wayside +flowers, snatched before an approaching storm. It is a pity, the nurse +would say, that his father cannot see him now. And at the thought Edith +could only see the child through tears, and a great weight rested on her +heart in all this happiness. + + + + +XVI + +When Father Damon parted from Edith he seemed to himself strengthened in +his spirit. His momentary outburst had shown him where he stood-the +strength of his fearful temptation. To see it was to be able to conquer +it. He would humiliate himself; he would scourge himself; he would fast +and pray; he would throw himself more unreservedly into the service of +his Master. He had been too compromising with sin and sinners, and with +his own weakness and sin, the worst of all. + +The priest walked swiftly through the wintry streets, welcoming as a sort +of penance the biting frost which burned his face and penetrated his +garments. He little heeded the passers in the streets, those who hurried +or those who loitered, only, if he met or passed a woman or a group of +girls, he instinctively drew himself away and walked more rapidly. He +strode on uncompromisingly, and his clean-shaved face was set in rigid +lines. Those who saw him pass would have said that there went an ascetic +bent on judgment. Many who did know him, and who ordinarily would have +saluted him, sure of a friendly greeting, were repelled by his stern face +and determined air, and made no sign. The father had something on his +mind. + +As he turned into Rivington Street there approached him from the opposite +direction a girl, walking slowly and undecidedly. When he came near her +she looked up, with an appealing recognition. In a flash of the quick +passing he thought he knew her--a girl who had attended his mission and +whom he had not seen for several months-but he made no sign and passed +on. + +"Father Damon!" + +He turned about short at the sound of the weak, pleading voice, but with +no relaxation of his severe, introverted mood. "Well?" + +It was the girl he remembered. She wore a dress of silk that had once +been fine, and over it an ample cloak that had quite lost its freshness, +and a hat still gay with cheap flowers. Her face, which had a sweet and +almost innocent expression, was drawn and anxious. The eyes were those +of a troubled and hunted animal. + +"I thought," she said, hesitatingly, "you didn't know me." + +"Yes, I know you. Why haven't you been at the mission lately?" + +"I couldn't come. I--" + +"I'm afraid you have fallen into bad ways." + +She did not answer immediately. She looked away, and, still avoiding his +gaze, said, timidly: "I thought I would tell you, Father Damon, that I'm +--that I'm in trouble. I don't know what to do." + +"Have you repented of your sin?" asked he, with a little softening of his +tone. "Did you want to come to me for help?" + +"He's deserted me," said the girl, looking down, absorbed in her own +misery, and not heeding his question. + +"Ah, so that is what you are sorry for?" The severe, reproving tone had +come back to his voice. + +"And they don't want me in the shop any more." + +The priest hesitated. Was he always to preach against sin, to strive to +extirpate it, and yet always to make it easy for the sinner? This girl +must realize her guilt before he could do her any good. "Are you sorry +for what you have done?" + +"Yes, I'm sorry," she replied. Wasn't to be in deep trouble to be +sorry? And then she looked up, and continued with the thought in her +mind, "I didn't know who else to go to." + +"Well, my child, if you are sorry, and want to lead a different life, +come to me at the mission and I will try to help you." + +The priest, with a not unkindly good-by, passed on. The girl stood a +moment irresolute, and then went on her way heavily and despondent. +What good would it do her to go to the mission now? + +Three days later Dr. Leigh was waiting at the mission chapel to speak +with the rector after the vesper service. He came out pale and weary, +and the doctor hesitated to make known her errand when she saw how +exhausted he was. + +"Did you wish me for anything?" he asked, after the rather forced +greeting. + +"If you feel able. There is a girl at the Woman's Hospital who wants to +see you." + +"Who is it?" + +"It is the girl you saw on the street the other afternoon; she said she +had spoken to you." + +"She promised to come to the mission." + +"She couldn't. I met the poor thing the same afternoon. She looked so +aimless and forlorn that, though I did not remember her at first, I +thought she might be ill, and spoke to her, and asked her what was the +matter. At first she said nothing except that she was out of work and +felt miserable; but the next moment she broke down completely, and said +she hadn't a friend in the world." + +"Poor thing!" said the priest, with a pang of self-reproach. + +"There was nothing to do but to take her to the hospital, and there she +has been." + +"Is she very ill?" + +"She may live, the house surgeon says. But she was very weak for such a +trial." + +Little more was said as they walked along, and when they reached the +hospital, Father Damon was shown without delay into the ward where the +sick girl lay. Dr. Leigh turned back from the door, and the nurse took +him to the bedside. She lay quite still in her cot, wan and feeble, with +every sign of having encountered a supreme peril. + +She turned her head on the low pillow as Father Damon spoke, saying he +was very glad he could come to her, and hoped she was feeling better. + +"I knew you would come," she said, feebly. "The nurse says I'm better. +But I wanted to tell you--"And she stopped. + +"Yes, I know," he said. "The Lord is very good. He will forgive all +your sins now, if you repent and trust Him." + +"I hope--"she began. "I'm so weak. If I don't live I want him to know." + +"Want whom to know?" asked the father, bending over her. + +She signed for him to come closer, and then whispered a name. + +"Only if I never see him again, if you see him, you will tell him that I +was always true to him. He said such hard words. I was always true." + +"I promise," said the father, much moved. "But now, my child, you ought +to think of yourself, of your--" + +"He is dead. Didn't they tell you? There is nothing any more." + +The nurse approached with a warning gesture that the interview was too +prolonged. + +Father Damon knelt for a moment by the bedside, uttering a hardly +articulate prayer. The girl's eyes were closed. When he rose she opened +them with a look of gratitude, and with the sign of blessing he turned +away. + +He intended to hasten from the house. He wanted to be alone. His +trouble seemed to him greater than that of the suffering girl. What had +he done? What was he in thought better than she? Was this intruding +human element always to cross the purpose of his spiritual life? + +As he was passing through the wide hallway the door of the reception-room +was open, and he saw Dr. Leigh seated at the table, with a piece of work +in her hands. She looked up, and stopped him with an unspoken inquiry in +her face. It was only civil to pause a moment and tell her about the +patient, and as he stepped within the room she rose. + +"You should rest a moment, Father Damon. I know what these scenes are." + +Yielding weakly, as he knew, he took the offered chair. But he raised +his hand in refusal of the glass of wine which she had ready for him on +the table, and offered before he could speak. + +"But you must," she said, with a smile. "It is the doctor's +prescription." + +She did not look like a doctor. She had laid aside the dusty walking- +dress, the business-jacket, the ugly little hat of felt, the battered +reticule. In her simple house costume she was the woman, homelike, +sympathetic, gentle, with the everlasting appeal of the strong feminine +nature. It was not a temptress who stood before him, but a helpful +woman, in whose kind eyes-how beautiful they were in this moment of +sympathy--there was trust--and rest--and peace. + +"So," she said, when he had taken the much-needed draught; "in the +hospital you must obey the rules, one of which is to let no one sink in +exhaustion." + +She had taken her seat now, and resumed her work. Father Damon was +looking at her, seeing the woman, perhaps, as he never had seen her +before, a certain charm in her quiet figure and modest self-possession, +while the thought of her life, of her labors, as he had seen her now for +months and months of entire sacrifice of self, surged through his brain +in a whirl of emotion that seemed sweeping him away. But when he spoke +it was of the girl, and as if to himself. + +"I was sorry to let her go that day. Friendless, I should have known. +I did know. I should have felt. You--" + +"No," she said, gently, interrupting him; "that was my business. You +should not accuse yourself. It was a physician's business." + +"Yes, a physician--the great Physician. The Master never let the sin +hinder his compassion for the sinner." + +To this she could make no reply. Presently she looked up and said: "But +I am sure your visit was a great comfort to the poor girl! She was very +eager to see you." + +"I do not know." + +His air was still abstracted. He was hardly thinking of the girl, after +all, but of himself, of the woman who sat before him. It seemed to him +that he would have given the world to escape--to fly from her, to fly +from himself. Some invisible force held him--a strong, new, and yet not +new, emotion, a power that seemed to clutch his very life. He could not +think clearly about it. In all his discipline, in his consecration, in +his vows of separation from the world, there seemed to have been no +shield prepared for this. The human asserted itself, and came in, +overwhelming his guards and his barriers like a strong flood in the +spring-time of the year, breaking down all artificial contrivances. +"They reckon ill who leave me out," is the everlasting cry of the human +heart, the great passion of life, incarnate in the first man and the +first woman. + +With a supreme effort of his iron will--is the Will, after all, stronger +than Love?--Father Damona rose. He stretched out his hand to say +farewell. She also stood, and she felt the hand tremble that held hers. + +"God bless you!" he said. "You are so good." + +He was going. He took her other hand, and was looking down upon her +face. She looked up, and their eyes met. It was for an instant, a +flash, glance for glance, as swift as the stab of daggers. + +All the power of heaven and earth could not recall that glance nor undo +its revelations. The man and the woman stood face to face revealed. + +He bent down towards her face. Affrighted by his passion, scarcely able +to stand in her sudden emotion, she started back. The action, the +instant of time, recalled him to himself. He dropped her hands, and was +gone. And the woman, her knees refusing any longer to support her, sank +into a chair, helpless, and saw him go, and knew in that moment the +height of a woman's joy, the depth of a woman's despair. + +It had come to her! Steeled by her science, shielded by her +philanthropy, schooled in indifference to love, it had come to her! +And it was hopeless. Hopeless? It was absurd. Her life was determined. +In no event could it be in harmony with his opinions, with his religion, +which was dearer to him than life. There was a great gulf between them +which she could not pass unless she ceased to be herself. And he? +A severe priest! Vowed and consecrated against human passion! What a +government of the world--if there were any government--that could permit +such a thing! It was terrible. + +And yet she was loved! That sang in her heart with all the pain, with +all the despair. And with it all was a great pity for him, alone, gone +into the wilderness, as it would seem to him, to struggle with his fierce +temptation. + +It had come on darker as she sat there. The lamps were lighted, and she +was reminded of some visits she must make. She went, mechanically, +to her room to prepare for going. The old jacket, which she took up, did +look rather rusty. She went to the press--it was not much of a wardrobe +--and put on the one that was reserved for holidays. And the hat? Her +friends had often joked her about the hat, but now for the first time she +seemed to see it as it might appear to others. As she held it in her +hand, and then put it on before the mirror, she smiled a little, faintly, +at its appearance. And then she laid it aside for her better hat. She +never had been so long in dressing before. And in the evening, too, when +it could make no difference! It might, after all, be a little more +cheerful for her forlorn patients. Perhaps she was not conscious that +she was making selections, that she was paying a little more attention to +her toilet than usual. Perhaps it was only the woman who was conscious +that she was loved. + +It would be difficult to say what emotion was uppermost in the mind of +Father Damon as he left the house--mortification, contempt of himself, +or horror. But there was a sense of escape, of physical escape, and the +imperative need of it, that quickened his steps almost into a run. +In the increasing dark, at this hour, in this quarter of the town, there +were comparatively few whose observation of him would recall him to +himself. He thought only of escape, and of escape from that quarter of +the city that was the witness of his labors and his failure. For the +moment to get away from this was the one necessity, and without reasoning +in the matter, only feeling, he was hurrying, stumbling in his haste, +northward. Before he went to the hospital he had been tired, physically +weary. He was scarcely conscious of it now; indeed, his body, his hated +body, seemed lighter, and the dominant spirit now awakened to contempt of +it had a certain pleasure in testing it, in drawing upon its vitality, to +the point of exhaustion if possible. It should be seen which was master. +His rapid pace presently brought him into one of the great avenues +leading to Harlem. That was the direction he wished to go. That was +where he knew, without making any decision, he must go, to the haven of +the house of his order, on the heights beyond Harlem. A train was just +clattering along on the elevated road above him. He could see the faces +at the windows, the black masses crowding the platforms. It went +pounding by as if it were freight from another world. He was in haste, +but haste to escape from himself. That way, bearing him along with other +people, and in the moving world, was to bring him in touch with humanity +again, and so with what was most hateful in himself. He must be alone. +But there was a deeper psychological reason than that for walking, +instead of availing himself of the swiftest method of escape. He was not +fleeing from justice or pursuit. When the mind is in torture and the +spirit is torn, the instinctive effort is to bodily activity, to force +physical exertion, as if there must be compensation for the mental strain +in the weariness of nature. The priest obeyed this instinct, as if it +were possible to walk away from himself, and went on, at first with +almost no sense of weariness. + +And the shame! He could not bear to be observed. It seemed to him that +every one would see in his face that he was a recreant priest, perjured +and forsworn. And so great had been his spiritual pride! So removed he +had deemed himself from the weakness of humanity! And he had yielded at +the first temptation, and the commonest of all temptations! Thank God, +he had not quite yielded. He had fled. And yet, how would it have been +if Ruth Leigh had not had a moment of reserve, of prudent repulsion! +He groaned in anguish. The sin was in the intention. It was no merit of +his that he had not with a kiss of passion broken his word to his Lord +and lost his soul. + +It was remorse that was driving him along the avenue; no room for any +other thought yet, or feeling. Perhaps it is true in these days that the +old-fashioned torture known as remorse is rarely experienced except under +the name of detection. But it was a reality with this highly sensitive +nature, with this conscience educated to the finest edge of feeling. The +world need never know his moment's weakness; Ruth Leigh he could trust as +he would have trusted his own sister to guard his honor--that was all +over--never, he was sure, would she even by a look recall the past; +but he knew how he had fallen, and the awful measure of his lapse from +loyalty to his Master. And how could he ever again stand before erring, +sinful men and women and speak about that purity which he had violated? +Could repentance, confession, penitence, wipe away this stain? + +As he went on, his mind in a whirl of humiliation, self-accusation, and +contempt, at length he began to be conscious of physical weariness. +Except the biscuit and the glass of wine at the hospital, he had taken +nothing since his light luncheon. When he came to the Harlem Bridge he +was compelled to rest. Leaning against one of the timbers and half +seated, with the softened roar of the city in his ears, the lights +gleaming on the heights, the river flowing dark and silent, he began to +be conscious of his situation. Yes, he was very tired. It seemed +difficult to go on without help of some sort. At length he crossed the +bridge. Lights were gleaming from the saloons along the street. He +paused in front of one, irresolute. Food he could not taste, but +something he must have to carry him on. But no, that would not do; he +could not enter that in his priest's garb. He dragged himself along +until he came to a drug-shop, the modern saloon of the respectably +virtuous. That he entered, and sat down on a stool by the soda-water +counter. The expectant clerk stared at him while waiting the order, +his hand tentatively seeking one of the faucets of refreshment. + +"I feel a little feverish," said the father. "You may give me five +grains of quinine in whisky." + + +"That'll put you all right," said the boy as he handed him the mixture. +"It's all the go now." + +It seemed to revive him, and he went out and walked on towards the +heights. Somehow, seeing this boy, coming back to common life, perhaps +the strong and unaccustomed stimulant, gave a new shade to his thoughts. +He was safe. Presently he would be at the Retreat. He would rest, and +then gird up his loins and face life again. The mood lasted for some +time. And when the sense of physical weariness came back, that seemed to +dull the acuteness of his spiritual torment. It was late when he reached +the house and rang the night-bell. No one of the brothers was up except +Father Monies, and it was he who came to the door. + +"You! So late! Is anything the matter?" + +"I needed to come," the father said, simply, and he grasped the door- +post, steadying himself as he came in. + +"You look like a ghost." + +"Yes. I'm tired. I walked." + +"Walked? From Rivington Street?" + +"Nearly. I felt like it." + +"It's most imprudent. You dined first?" + +"I wasn't hungry." + +"But you must have something at once." And Father Monies hurried away, +heated some bouillon by a spirit-lamp, and brought it, with bread, and +set it before his unexpected guest. + +"There, eat that, and get to bed as soon as you can. It was great +nonsense." + +And Father Damon obeyed. Indeed, he was too exhausted to talk. + + + + +XVII + +Father Damon slept the sleep of exhaustion. In this for a time the mind +joined in the lethargy of the body. But presently, as the vital currents +were aroused, the mind began to play its fantastic tricks. He was a +seminary student, he was ordained, he was taking his vows before the +bishop, he was a robust and consecrated priest performing his first +service, shining, it seemed to him, before the congregation in the purity +of his separation from the world. How strong he felt. And then came +perplexities, difficulties, interests, and conflicting passions in life +that he had not suspected, good that looked like evil, and evil that had +an alloy of virtue, and the way was confused. And then there was a +vision of a sort of sister of charity working with him in the evil and +the good, drawing near to him, and yet repelling him with a cold, +scientific skepticism that chilled him like blasphemy; but so patient was +she, so unconscious of self, that gradually he lost this feeling of +repulsion and saw only the woman, that wonderful creation, tender, +pitiful comrade, the other self. And then there was darkness and +blindness, and he stood once more before his congregation, speaking words +that sounded hollow, hearing responses that mocked him, stared at by +accusing eyes that knew him for a hypocrite. And he rushed away and left +them, hearing their laughter as he went, and so into the street--plainly +it was Rivington Street--and faces that he knew had a smile and a sneer, +and he heard comments as he passed "Hulloa, Father Damon, come in and +have a drink." "I say, Father Damon, I seen her going round into Grand +Street." + +When Father Monies looked in, just before daylight, Father Damon was +still sleeping, but tossing restlessly and muttering incoherently; and he +did not arouse him for the early devotions. + +It was very late when he awoke, and opened his eyes to a confused sense +of some great calamity. Father Monies was standing by the bedside with a +cup of coffee. + +"You have had a good sleep. Now take this, and then you may get up. The +breakfast will wait for you." + +Father Damon started up. "Why didn't you call me? I am late for the +mission." + +"Oh, Bendes has gone down long ago. You must take it easy; rest today. +You'll be all right. You haven't a bit of fever." + +"But," still declining the coffee, "before I break my fast, I have +something to say to you. I--" + +"Get some strength first. Besides, I have an engagement. I cannot wait. +Pull yourself together; I may not be back before evening." + +So it was fated that he should be left still with himself. After his +coffee he dressed slowly, as if it were not he, but some one else going +through this familiar duty, as if it were scarcely worth while to do +anything any more. And then, before attempting his breakfast, he went +into the little oratory, and remained long in the attitude of prayer, +trying to realize what he was and what he had done. He prayed for +himself, for help, for humility, and he prayed for her; he had been used +of late to pray for her guidance, now he prayed that she might be +sustained. + +When he came forth it was in a calmer frame of mind. It was all clear +now. When Father Monies returned he would confess, and take his penance, +and resolutely resume his life. He understood life better now. Perhaps +this blow was needed for his spiritual pride. + +It was a mild winter day, bright, and with a touch of summer, such as +sometimes gets shuffled into our winter calendar. The book that he took +up did not interest him; he was in no mood for the quiet meditation that +it usually suggested to him, and he put it down and strolled out, +directing his steps farther up the height, and away from the suburban +stir. As he went on there was something consonant with his feelings in +the bare wintry landscape, and when he passed the ridge and walked along +the top of the river slope, he saw, as it seemed to him he had not seen +it before, that lovely reach of river, the opposite wooded heights, the +noble pass above, the peacefulness and invitation of nature. Had he a +new sense to see all this? There was a softness in the distant outline, +villas peeped out here and there, carriages were passing in the road +below, there was a cheerful life in the stream--there was a harmony in +the aspect of nature and humanity from this height. Was not the world +beautiful? and human emotion, affection, love, were they alien to the +Divine intention? + +She loved beauty; she was fond of flowers; often she had spoken to him of +her childish delight in her little excursions, rarely made, into the +country. He could see her now standing just there and feasting her eyes +on this noble panorama, and he could see her face all aglow, as she might +turn to him and say, "Isn't it beautiful, Father Damon?" And she was +down in those reeking streets, climbing about in the foul tenement- +houses, taking a sick child in her arms, speaking a word of cheer--a good +physician going about doing good! + +And it might have been! Why was it that this peace of nature should +bring up her image, and that they should seem in harmony? Was not the +love of beauty and of goodness the same thing? Did God require in His +service the atrophy of the affections? As long as he was in the world +was it right that he should isolate himself from any of its sympathies +and trials? Why was it not a higher life to enter into the common lot, +and suffer, if need be, in the struggle to purify and ennoble all? +He remembered the days he had once passed in the Trappist monastery of +Gethsemane. The perfect peace of mind of the monks was purchased at the +expense of the extirpation of every want, all will, every human interest. +Were these men anything but specimens in a Museum of Failures? And yet, +for the time being, it had seemed attractive to him, this simple +vegetable existence, whose only object was preparation for death by the +extinction of all passion and desire. No, these were not soldiers of the +Lord, but the fainthearted, who had slunk into the hospital. + +All this afternoon he was drifting in thought, arraigning his past life, +excusing it, condemning it, and trying to forecast its future. Was this +a trial of his constancy and faith, or had he made a mistake, entered +upon a slavish career, from which he ought to extricate himself at any +cost of the world's opinion? But presently he was aware that in all +these debates with himself her image appeared. He was trying to fit his +life to the thought of her. And when this became clearer in his tortured +mind, the woman appeared as a temptation. It was not, then, the love of +beauty, not even the love of humanity, and very far from being the +service of his Master, that he was discussing, but only his desire for +one person. It was that, then, that made him, for that fatal instant, +forget his vow, and yield to the impulse of human passion. The thought +of that moment stung him with confusion and shame. There had been +moments in this afternoon wandering--when it had seemed possible for him +to ask for release, and to take up a human, sympathetic life with her, in +mutual consecration in the service of the Lord's poor. Yes, and by love +to lead her into a higher conception of the Divine love. But this +breaking a solemn vow at the dictates of passion was a mortal sin--there +was no other name for it--a sin demanding repentance and expiation. + +As he at last turned homeward, facing the great city and his life there, +this became more clear to him. He walked rapidly. The lines of his face +became set in a hard judgment of himself. He thought no more of escaping +from himself, but of subduing himself, stamping out the appeals of his +lower nature. It was in this mood that he returned. + +Father Monies was awaiting him, and welcomed him with that look of +affection, of more than brotherly love, which the good man had for the +younger priest. + +"I hope your walk has done you good." + +"Perhaps," Father Damon replied, without any leniency in his face; "but +that does not matter. I must tell you what I could not last night. Can +you hear me?" + +They went together into the oratory. Father Damon did not spare himself. +He kept nothing back that could heighten the enormity of his offense. + +And Father Monies did not attempt to lessen the impression upon himself +of the seriousness of the scandal. He was shocked. He was exceedingly +grave, but he was even more pitiful. His experience of life had been +longer than that of the penitent. He better knew its temptations. His +own peace had only been won by long crucifixion of the natural desires. + +"I have nothing to say as to your own discipline. That you know. But +there is one thing. You must face this temptation, and subdue it." + +"You mean that I must go back to my labor in the city?" + +"Yes. You can rest here a few days if you feel too weak physically." + +"No; I am well enough." He hesitated. "I thought perhaps some other +field, for a time?" + +"There is no other field for you. It is not for the moment the question +of where you can do most good. You are to reinstate yourself. You are a +soldier of the Lord Jesus, and you are to go where the battle is most +dangerous." + +That was the substance of it all. There was much affectionate counsel +and loving sympathy mingled with all the inflexible orders of obedience, +but the sin must be faced and extirpated in presence of the enemy. + +On the morrow Father Damon went back to his solitary rooms, to his +chapel, to the round of visitations, to his work with the poor, the +sinful, the hopeless. He did not seek her; he tried not to seem to avoid +her, or to seem to shun the streets where he was most likely to meet her, +and the neighborhoods she frequented. Perhaps he did avoid them a +little, and he despised himself for doing it. Almost involuntarily he +looked to the bench by the chapel door which she occasionally occupied at +vespers. She was never there, and he condemned himself for thinking that +she might be; but yet wherever he walked there was always the expectation +that he might encounter her. As the days went by and she did not appear, +his expectation became a kind of torture. Was she ill, perhaps? It +could not be that she had deserted her work. + +And then he began to examine himself with a morbid introspection. Had +the hope that he should see her occasionally influenced him at all in his +obedience to Father Monies? Had he, in fact, a longing to be in the +streets where she had walked, among the scenes that had witnessed her +beautiful devotion? Had his willingness to take up this work again been +because it brought him nearer to her in spirit? + +No, she could not be ill. He heard her spoken of, here and there, in his +calls and ministrations to the sick and dying. Evidently she was going +about her work as usual. Perhaps she was avoiding him. Or perhaps she +did not care, after all, and had lost her respect for him when he +discovered to her his weakness. And he had put himself on a plane so +high above her. + +There was no conscious wavering in his purpose. But from much dwelling +upon the thought, from much effort rather to put it away, his desire only +to see her grew stronger day by day. He had no fear. He longed to test +himself. He was sure that he would be impassive, and be all the stronger +for the test. He was more devoted than ever in his Work. He was more +severe with himself, more charitable to others, and he could not doubt +that he was gaining a hold-yes, a real hold-upon the lives of many about +him. The attendance was better at the chapel; more of the penitent and +forlorn came to him for help. And how alone he was! My God, never even +to see her! + +In fact, Ruth Leigh was avoiding him. It was partly from a womanly +reserve--called into expression in this form for the first time--and +partly from a wish to spare him pain. She had been under no illusion +from the first about the hopelessness of the attachment. She +comprehended his character so thoroughly that she knew that for him any +fall from his ideal would mean his ruin. He was one of the rare spirits +of faith astray in a skeptical age. For a time she had studied curiously +his efforts to adapt himself to his surroundings. One of these was +joining a Knights of Labor lodge. Another was his approach to the +ethical-culture movement of some of the leaders in the Neighborhood +Guild. Another was his interest in the philanthropic work of agnostics +like herself. She could see that he, burning with zeal to save the souls +of men, and believing that there was no hope for the world except in the +renunciation of the world, instinctively shrank from these contacts, +which, nevertheless, he sought in the spirit of a Jesuit missionary to a +barbarous tribe. + +It was possible for such a man to be for a time overmastered by human +passion; it was possible even that he might reason himself temporarily +into conduct that this natural passion seemed to justify; yet she never +doubted that there would follow an awakening from that state of mind as +from a horrible delusion. It was simply because Ruth Leigh was guided by +the exercise of reason, and had built up her scheme of life upon facts +that she believed she could demonstrate, that she saw so clearly their +relations, and felt that the faith, which was to her only a vagary of the +material brain, was to him an integral part of his life. + +Love, to be sure, was as unexpected in her scheme of life as it was in +his; but there was on her part no reason why she should not yield to it. +There was every reason in her nature and in her theory why she should, +for, bounded as her vision of life was by this existence, love was the +highest conceivable good in life. It had been with a great shout of joy +that the consciousness had come to her that she loved and was loved. +Though she might never see him again, this supreme experience for man or +woman, this unsealing of the sacred fountain of life, would be for her an +enduring sweetness in her lonely and laborious pilgrimage. How strong +love is they best know to whom it is offered and denied. + +And why, so far as she was concerned, should she deny it? An ordinary +woman probably would not. Love is reason enough. Why should artificial +conventions defeat it? Why should she sacrifice herself, if he were +willing to brave the opinion of the world for her sake? Was it any new +thing for good men to do this? But Ruth Leigh was not an ordinary woman. +Perhaps if her intellect had not been so long dominant over her heart it +would have been different. But the habit of being guided by reason was +second nature. She knew that not only his vow, but the habit of life +engendered by the vow, was an insuperable barrier. And besides, and this +was the touchstone of her conception of life and duty, she felt that if +he were to break his vow, though she might love him, her respect for him +would be impaired. + +It was a singular phenomenon--very much remarked at the time--that the +women who did not in the least share Father Damon's spiritual faith, and +would have called themselves in contradistinction materialists, were +those who admired him most, were in a way his followers, loved to attend +his services, were inspired by his personality, and drawn to him in a +loving loyalty. The attraction to these very women was his +unworldliness, his separateness, his devotion to an ideal which in their +reason seemed a delusion. And no women would have been more sensitive +than they to his fall from his spiritual pinnacle. + +It was easy with a little contrivance to avoid meeting him. She did not +go to the chapel or in its neighborhood when he was likely to be going to +or from service. She let others send for him when in her calls his +ministration was required, and she was careful not to linger where he was +likely to come. A little change in the time of her rounds was made +without neglecting her work, for that she would not do, and she trusted +that if accident threw him in her way, circumstances would make it +natural and not embarrassing. And yet his image was never long absent +from her thoughts; she wondered if he were dejected, if he were ill, if +he were lonely, and mostly there was for him a great pity in her heart, a +pity born, alas! of her own sense of loneliness. + +How much she was repressing her own emotions she knew one evening when +she returned from her visits and found a letter in his handwriting. The +sight of it was a momentary rapture, and then the expectation of what it +might contain gave her a feeling of faintness. The letter was long. Its +coming needs a word of explanation. + +Father Damon had begun to use the Margaret Fund. He found that its +judicious use was more perplexing than he had supposed. He needed +advice, the advice of those who had more knowledge than he had of the +merits of relief cases. And then there might be many sufferers whom he +in his limited field neglected. It occurred to him that Dr. Leigh would +be a most helpful co-almoner. No sooner did this idea come to him than +he was spurred to put it into effect. This common labor would be a sort +of bond between them, a bond of charity purified from all personal alloy. +He went at once to Mr. Henderson's office and told him his difficulties, +and about Dr. Leigh's work, and the opportunities she would have. Would +it not be possible for Dr. Leigh to draw from the fund on her own checks +independent of him? Mr. Henderson thought not. Dr. Leigh was no doubt a +good woman, but he didn't know much about woman visitors and that sort; +their sympathies were apt to run away with them, and he should prefer at +present to have the fund wholly under Father Damon's control. Some time, +he intimated, he might make more lasting provisions with trustees. It +would be better for Father Damon to give Dr. Leigh money as he saw she +needed it. + +The letter recited this at length; it had a check endorsed, and the +writer asked the doctor to be his almoner. He dwelt very much upon the +relief this would be to him, and the opportunity it would give her in +many emergencies, and the absolute confidence he had in her discretion, +as well as in her quick sympathy with the suffering about them. And also +it would be a great satisfaction to him to feel that he was associated +with her in such a work. + +In its length, in its tone of kindliness, of personal confidence, +especially in its length, it was evident that the writing of it had been +a pleasure, if not a relief, to the sender. Ruth read it and reread it. +It was as if Father Damon were there speaking to her. She could hear the +tones of his voice. And the glance of love--that last overmastering +appeal and cry thrilled through her soul. + +But in the letter there was no love; to any third person it would have +read like an ordinary friendly philanthropic request. And her reply, +accepting gratefully his trust, was almost formal, only the writer felt +that she was writing out of her heart. + + + + +XVIII + +The Roman poet Martial reckons among the elements of a happy life "an +income left, not earned by toil," and also "a wife discreet, yet blythe +and bright." Felicity in the possession of these, the epigrammatist +might have added, depends upon content in the one and full appreciation +of the other. + +Jack Delancy returned from Washington more discontented than when he +went. His speculation hung fire in a most tantalizing way; more than +that, it had absorbed nearly all the "income not earned by toil," which +was at the hazard of operations he could neither control nor comprehend. +And besides, this little fortune had come to seem contemptibly +inadequate. In his associations of the past year his spendthrift habits +had increased, and he had been humiliated by his inability to keep pace +with the prodigality of those with whom he was most intimate. Miss +Tavish was an heiress in her own right, who never seemed to give a +thought to the cost of anything she desired; the Hendersons, for any +whim, drew upon a reservoir of unknown capacity; and even Mavick began to +talk as if he owned a flock of geese that laid golden eggs. + +To be sure, it was pleasant coming home into an atmosphere of sincerity, +of worship--was it not? It was very flattering to his self-esteem. The +master had come! The house was in commotion. Edith flew to meet him, +hugged him, shook him, criticised his appearance, rallied him for a +recreant father. How well she looked-buoyant, full of vivacity, running +over with joy, asking a dozen questions before he could answer one, +testifying her delight, her affection, in a hundred ways. And the boy! +He was so eager to see his papa. He could converse now--that is, in his +way. And that prodigy, when Jack was dragged into his presence, and also +fell down with Edith and worshiped him in his crib, did actually smile, +and appear to know that this man belonged to him, was a part of his +worldly possessions. + +"Do you know," said Edith, looking at the boy critically, "I think of +making Fletcher a present, if you approve." + +"What's that?" + +"He'll want some place to go to in the summer. I want to buy that old +place where he was born and give it to him. Don't you think it would be +a good investment?" + +"Yes, permanent," replied Jack, laughing at such a mite of a real-estate +owner. + +"I know he would like it. And you don't object?" + +"Not in the least. It's next to an ancestral feeling to be the father of +a land-owner." + +They were standing close to the crib, his arm resting lightly across her +shoulders. He drew her closer to him, and kissed her tenderly. "The +little chap has a golden-hearted mother. I don't know why he should not +have a Golden House." + +Her eyes filled with sudden tears. She could not speak. But both arms +were clasped round his neck now. She was too happy for words. And the +baby, looking on with large eyes, seemed to find nothing unusual in the +proceeding. He was used to a great deal of this sort of nonsense +himself. + +It was a happy evening. In truth, after the first surprise, Jack was +pleased with this contemplated purchase. It was something removed beyond +temptation. Edith's property was secure to her, and it was his honorable +purpose never to draw it into his risks. But he knew her generosity, and +he could not answer for himself if she should offer it, as he was sure +she would do, to save him from ruin. + +There was all the news to tell, the harmless gossip of daily life, which +Edith had a rare faculty of making dramatically entertaining, with her +insight and her feeling for comedy. There had been a musicale at the +Blunts'--oh, strictly amateur--and Edith ran to the piano and imitated +the singers and took off the players, until Jack declared that it beat +the Conventional Club out of sight. And she had been to a parlor mind- +cure lecture, and to a Theosophic conversation, and to a Reading Club for +the Cultivation of a Feeling for Nature through Poetry. It was all +immensely solemn and earnest. And Jack wondered that the managers did +not get hold of these things and put them on the stage. Nothing could +draw like them. Not burlesques, though, said Edith; not in the least. +If only these circles would perform in public as they did in private, how +they would draw! + +And then Father Damon had been to consult her about his fund. He had +been ill, and would not stay, and seemed more severe and ascetic than +ever. She was sure something was wrong. For Dr. Leigh, whom she had +sought out several times, was reserved, and did not voluntarily speak of +Father Damon; she had heard that he was throwing himself with more than +his usual fervor into his work. There was plenty to talk about. +The purchase of the farm by the sea had better not be delayed; Jack might +have to go down and see the owner. Yes, he would make it his first +business in the morning. Perhaps it would be best to get some Long- +Islander to buy it for them. + +By the time it was ten o'clock, Jack said he thought he would step down +to the Union a moment. Edith's countenance fell. There might be +letters, he explained, and he had a little matter of business; he +wouldn't be late. + +It was very agreeable, home was, and Edith was charming. He could +distinctly feel that she was charming. But Jack was restless. He felt +the need of talking with somebody about what was on his mind. If only +with Major Fairfax. He would not consult the Major, but the latter was +in the way of picking up all sorts of gossip, both social and Street +gossip. + +And the Major was willing to unpack his budget. It was not very +reassuring, what he had to tell; in fact, it was somewhat depressing, the +general tightness and the panicky uncertainty, until, after a couple of +glasses of Scotch, the financial world began to open a little and seem +more hopeful. + +"The Hendersons are going to build," Jack said at length, after a remark +of the Major's about that famous operator. + +"Build? What for? They've got a palace." + +"Carmen says it's for an object-lesson. To show New York millionaires +how to adorn their city." + +"It's like that little -schemer. What does Henderson say?" + +"He appears to be willing. I can't get the hang of Henderson. He +doesn't seem to care what his wife does. He's a cynical cuss. The other +night, at dinner, in Washington, when the thing was talked over, he said: +'My dear, I don't know why you shouldn't do that as well as anything. +Let's build a house of gold, as Nero did; we are in the Roman age.' +Carmen looked dubious for a moment, but she said, 'You know, Rodney, that +you always used to say that some time you would show New York what a +house ought to be in this climate.' 'Well, go on,' and he laughed. +'I suppose lightning will not strike that sooner than anything else.'" +"Seems to me," said the Major, reflectively, reaching out his hand for +the brown mug, "the way he gives that woman her head, and doesn't care +what she does, he must have a contempt for her." + +"I wish somebody had that sort of contempt for me," said Jack, filling up +his glass also. + +"But, I tell you," he continued, "Mrs. Henderson has caught on to the new +notions. Her idea is the union of all the arts. She has already got the +refusal of a square 'way up-town, on the rise opposite the Park, and has +been consulting architects about it. It is to be surrounded with the +building, with a garden in the interior, a tropical garden, under glass +in the winter. The facades are to be gorgeous and monumental. Artists +and sculptors are to decorate it, inside and out. Why shouldn't there be +color on the exterior, gold and painting, like the Fugger palaces in +Augsburg, only on a great scale? The artists don't see any reason why +there should not. It will make the city brilliant, that sort of thing, +in place of our monotonous stone lanes. And it's using her wealth for +the public benefit-the architects and artists all say that. Gad, I don't +know but the little woman is beginning to regard herself as a public +benefactor." + +"She is that or nothing," echoed the Major, warmly. + +"And do you know," continued Jack, confidentially, "I think she's got the +right idea. If I have any luck--of course I sha'n't do that--but if I +have any luck, I mean to build a house that's got some life in it--color, +old boy--something unique and stunning." + +"So you will," cried the Major, enthusiastically, and, raising his glass, +"Here's to the house that Jack built!" + +It was later than he thought it would be when he went home, but Jack was +attended all the way by a vision of a Golden House--all gold wouldn't be +too good, and he will build it, damme, for Edith and the boy. +The next morning not even the foundations of this structure were visible. +The master of the house came down to a late breakfast, out of sorts with +life, almost surly. Not even Edith's bright face and fresh toilet and +radiant welcome appealed to him. No one would have thought from her +appearance that she had waited for him last night hour after hour, and +had at last gone to bed with a heavy heart, and not to sleep-to toss, and +listen, and suffer a thousand tortures of suspense. How many tragedies +of this sort are there nightly in the metropolis, none the less tragic +because they are subjects of jest in the comic papers and on the stage! +What would be the condition of social life if women ceased to be anxious +in this regard, and let loose the reins in an easy-going indifference? +What, in fact, is the condition in those households where the wives do +not care? One can even perceive a tender sort of loyalty to women in the +ejaculation of that battered old veteran, the Major, "Thank God, there's +nobody sitting up for me!" + +Jack was not consciously rude. He even asked about the baby. And he +sipped his coffee and glanced over the morning journal, and he referred +to the conversation of the night before, and said that he would look +after the purchase at once. If Edith had put on an aspect of injury, and +had intimated that she had hoped that his first evening at home might +have been devoted to her and the boy, there might have been a scene, for +Jack needed only an occasion to vent his discontent. And for the +chronicler of social life a scene is so much easier to deal with, an +outburst of temper and sharp language, of accusation and recrimination, +than the well-bred commonplace of an undefined estrangement. + +And yet estrangement is almost too strong a word to use in Jack's case. +He would have been the first to resent it. But the truth was that Edith, +in the life he was leading, was a rebuke to him; her very purity and +unworldliness were out of accord with his associations, with his +ventures, with his dissipations in that smart and glittering circle where +he was more welcome the more he lowered his moral standards. Could he +help it if after the first hours of his return he felt the restraint of +his home, and that the life seemed a little flat? Almost unconsciously +to himself, his interests and his inclinations were elsewhere. + +Edith, with the divination of a woman, felt this. Last night her love +alone seemed strong enough to hold him, to bring him back to the purposes +and the aspirations that only last summer had appeared to transform him. +Now he was slipping away again. How pitiful it is, this contest of a +woman who has only her own love, her own virtue, with the world and its +allurements and seductions, for the possession of her husband's heart! +How powerless she is against these subtle invitations, these unknown and +all-encompassing temptations! At times the whole drift of life, of the +easy morality of the time, is against her. The current is so strong that +no wonder she is often swept away in it. And what could an impartial +observer of things as they are say otherwise than that John Delancy was +leading the common life of his kind and his time, and that Edith was only +bringing trouble on herself by being out of sympathy with it? + +He might not be in at luncheon, he said, when he was prepared to go down- +town. He seldom was. He called at his broker's. Still suspense. He +wrote to the Long Island farmer. At the Union he found a scented note +from Carmen. They had all returned from the capital. How rejoiced she +was to be at home! And she was dying to see him; no, not dying, but very +much living; and it was very important. She should expect him at the +usual hour. And could he guess what gown she would wear? + +And Jack went. What hold had this woman on him? Undoubtedly she had +fascinations, but he knew--knew well enough by this time--that her +friendship was based wholly on calculation. And yet what a sympathetic +comrade she could be! How freely he could talk with her; there was no +subject she did not adapt herself to. No doubt it was this adaptability +that made her such a favorite. She did not demand too much virtue or +require too much conventionality. The hours he was with her he was +wholly at his ease. She made him satisfied with himself, and she didn't +disturb his conscience. + +"I think," said Jack--he was holding both her hands with a swinging +motion--when she came forward to greet him, and looking at her +critically--"I think I like you better in New York than in Washington." + +"That is because you see more of me here." + +"Oh, I saw you enough in Washington." + +"But that was my public manner. I have to live up to Mr. Henderson's +reputation." + +"And here you only have to live up to mine?" + +"I can live for my friends," she replied, with an air of candor, giving a +very perceptible pressure with her little hands. "Isn't that enough?" + +Jack kissed each little hand before he let it drop, and looked as if he +believed. + +"And how does the house get on?" + +"Famously. The lot is bought. Mr. Van Brunt was here all the morning. +It's going to be something Oriental, mediaeval, nineteenth-century, +gorgeous, and domestic. Van Brunt says he wants it to represent me." + +"How?" inquired Jack; "all the four facades different?" + +"With an interior unity--all the styles brought to express an individual +taste, don't you know. A different house from the four sides of +approach, and inside, home--that's the idea." + +"It appears to me," said Jack, still bantering, "that it will look like +an apartment-house." + +"That is just what it will not--that is, outside unity, and inside a +menagerie. This won't look gregarious. It is to have not more than +three stories, perhaps only two. And then exterior color, decoration, +statuary." + +"And gold?" + +"Not too much--not to give it a cheap gilded look. Oh, I asked him about +Nero's house. As I remember it, that was mostly caverns. Mr. Van Brunt +laughed, and said they were not going to excavate this house. The Roman +notion was barbarous grandeur. But in point of beauty and luxury, this +would be as much superior to Nero's house as the electric light is to a +Roman lamp." + +"Not classic, then?" + +"Why, all that's good in classic form, with the modern spirit. You ought +to hear Mr. Van Brunt talk. This country has never yet expressed itself +in domestic inhabitation." + +"It's going to cost! What does Mr. Henderson say?" + +"I think he rather likes it. He told Mr. Van Brunt to consult me and go +ahead with his plans. But he talks queerly. He said he thought he would +have money enough at least for the foundation. Do you think, Jack," +asked Carmen, with a sudden change of manner, "that Mr. Henderson is +really the richest man in the United States?" + +"Some people say so. Really, I don't know how any one can tell. If he +let go his hand from his affairs, I don't know what a panic would do." + +Carmen looked thoughtful. "He said to me once that he wasn't afraid of +the Street any more. I told him this morning that I didn't want to begin +this if it was going to incommode him." + +"What did he say?" + +"He was just going out. He looked at me a moment with that speculative +sort of look-no, it isn't cynical, as you say; I know it so well--and +then said: 'Oh, go ahead. I guess it will be all right. If anything +happens, you can turn it into a boardinghouse. It will be an excellent +sanitarium.' That was all. Anyway, it's something to do. Come, let's +go and see the place." And she started up and touched the bell for the +carriage. It was more than something to do. In those days before her +marriage, when her mother was living, and when they wandered about +Europe, dangerously near to the reputation of adventuresses, the girl had +her dream of chateaux and castles and splendor. Her chance did not come +in Europe, but, as she would have said, Providence is good to those who +wait. + +The next day Jack went to Long Island, and the farm was bought, and the +deed brought to Edith, who, with much formality, presented it to the boy, +and that young gentleman showed his appreciation of it by trying to eat +it. It would have seemed a pretty incident to Jack, if he had not been +absorbed in more important things. + +But he was very much absorbed, and apparently more idle than ever. As +the days went on, and the weeks, he was less and less at home, and in a +worse humor--that is, at home. Carmen did not find him ill-humored, nor +was there any change towards the fellows at the Union, except that it was +noticed that he had his cross days. There was nothing specially to +distinguish him from a dozen others, who led the same life of vacuity, of +mild dissipation, of enforced pleasure. A wager now and then on an +"event"; a fictitious interest in elections; lively partisanship in +society scandals: Not much else. The theatres were stale, and only +endurable on account of the little suppers afterwards; and really there +wasn't much in life except the women who made it agreeable. + +Major Fairfax was not a model; there had not much survived out of his +checkered chances and experiences, except a certain instinct of being a +gentleman, sir; the close of his life was not exactly a desirable goal; +but even the Major shook his head over Jack. + + + + +XIX + +The one fact in which men universally agree is that we come into the +world alone and we go out of the world alone; and although we travel in +company, make our pilgrimage to Canterbury or to Vanity Fair in a great +show of fellowship, and of bearing one another's burdens, we carry our +deepest troubles alone. When we think of it, it is an awful lonesomeness +in this animated and moving crowd. Each one either must or will carry +his own burden, which he commonly cannot, or by pride or shame will not, +ask help in carrying. + +Henderson drew more and more apart from confidences, and was alone in +building up the colossal structure of his wealth. Father Damon was +carrying his renewed temptation alone, after all his brave confession and +attempt at renunciation. Ruth Leigh plodded along alone, with her secret +which was the joy and the despair of her life--the opening of a gate into +the paradise which she could never enter. Jack Delancy, the confiding, +open-hearted good fellow, had come to a stage in his journey where he +also was alone. Not even to Carmen could he confess the extent of his +embarrassments, nor even in her company, nor in the distraction of his +increasingly dissipated life, could he forget them. Not only had his +investments been all transferred to his speculations, but his home had +been mortgaged, and he did not dare tell Edith of the lowering cloud that +hung over it; and that his sole dependence was the confidence of the +Street, which any rumor might shatter, in that one of Henderson's schemes +to which he had committed himself. Edith, the one person who could have +comforted him, was the last person to whom he could have told this, for +he had the most elementary, and the common conception of what marriage +is. + +But Edith's lot was the most pitiful of all. She was not only alone, but +compelled to inaction. She saw the fair fabric of her life dissolving, +and neither by cries nor tears, by appeals nor protest, by show of anger +nor by show of suffering, could she hinder the dissolution. Strong in +herself and full of courage, day by day and week by week she felt her +powerlessness. Heaven knows what it cost her--what it costs all women in +like circumstances--to be always cheerful, never to show distrust. If +her love were not enough, if her attractions were not enough, there was +no human help to which she could appeal. + +And what, pray, was there to appeal? There was no visible neglect, no +sufficient alienation for gossip to take hold of. If there was a little +talk about Jack's intimacy elsewhere, was there anything uncommon in +that? Affairs went on as usual. Was it reasonable to suppose that +society should notice that one woman's heart was full of foreboding, +heavy with a sense of loss and defeat, and with the ruin of two lives? +Could simple misery like this rise to the dignity of tragedy in a world +that has its share of tragedies, shocking and violent, but is on the +whole going on decorously and prosperously? + +The season wore on. It was the latter part of May. Jack had taken Edith +and the boy down to the Long Island house, and had returned to the city +and was living at his club, feverishly waiting for some change in his +affairs. It was a sufficient explanation of his anxiety that money was +"tight," that failures were daily announced, and that there was a general +fear of worse times. It was fortunate for Jack and other speculators +that they could attribute their ill-luck to the general financial +condition. There were reasons enough for this condition. Some +attributed it to want of confidence, others to the tariff, others to the +action of this or that political party, others to over-production, others +to silver, others to the action of English capitalists in withdrawing. +their investments. It could all be accounted for without referring to +the fact that most of the individual sufferers, like Jack, owed more than +they could pay. + +Henderson was much of the time absent--at the West and at the South. +His every move was watched, his least sayings were reported as +significant, and the Street was hopeful or depressed as he seemed to be +cheerful or unusually taciturn. Uncle Jerry was the calmest man in town, +and his observation that Henderson knew what he was about was reassuring. +His serenity was well founded. The fact was that he had been pulling in +and lowering canvas for months. Or, as he put it, he hadn't much hay +out. . . "It's never a good plan," said Uncle Jerry, "to put off raking +up till the shower begins." + +It seems absurd to speak of the East Side in connection with the +financial situation. But that was where the pinch was felt, and felt +first. Work was slack, and that meant actual hunger for many families. +The monetary solidarity of the town is remarkable. No one flies a kite +in Wall Street that somebody in Rivington Street does not in consequence +have to go without his dinner. As Dr. Leigh went her daily rounds she +encountered painful evidence of the financial disturbance. Increased +number of cases for the doctor followed want of sufficient food and the +eating of cheap, unwholesome food. She was often obliged to draw upon +the Margaret Fund, and to invoke the aid of Father Damon when the +responsibility was too great for her. And Father Damon found that his +ministry was daily diverted from the cure of souls to the care of bodies. +Among all those who came to the mission as a place of refuge and rest, +and to whom the priest sought to offer the consolations of religion and +of his personal sympathy, there were few who did not have a tale of +suffering to tell that wrung his heart. Some of them were actually ill, +or had at home a sick husband or a sick daughter. And such cases had to +be reported to Dr. Leigh. + +It became necessary, therefore, that these two, who had shunned each +other for months, should meet as often as they had done formerly. This +was very hard for both, for it meant only the renewal of heart-break, +regret, and despair. And yet it had been almost worse when they did not +see each other. They met; they talked of nothing but their work; they +tried to forget themselves in their devotion to humanity. But the human +heart will not be thus disposed of. It was impossible that some show of +personal interest, some tenderness, should not appear. They were walking +towards Fourth Avenue one evening--the priest could not resist the +impulse to accompany her a little way towards her home--after a day of +unusual labor and anxiety. + +"You are working too hard," he said, gently; "you look fatigued." + +"Oh no," she replied, looking up cheerfully; "I'm a regular machine. +I get run down, and then I wind up. I get tired, and then I get rested. +It isn't the work," she added, after a moment, "if only I could see any +good of it. It seems so hopeless." + +"From your point of view, my dear doctor," he answered, but without any +shade of reproof in his tone. "But no good deed is lost. There is +nothing else in the world--nothing for me." The close of the sentence +seemed wholly accidental, and he stopped speaking as if he could not +trust himself to go on. + +Ruth Leigh looked up quickly. "But, Father Damon, it is you who ought to +be rebuked for overwork. You are undertaking too much. You ought to go +off for a vacation, and go at once." + +The father looked paler and thinner than usual, but his mouth was set in +firm lines, and he said: "It cannot be. My duty is here. And"--he +turned, and looked her full in the face--"I cannot go." + +No need to explain that simple word. No need to interpret the swift +glance that their eyes exchanged--the eager, the pitiful glance. They +both knew. It was not the work. It was not the suffering of the world. +It was the pain in their own hearts, and the awful chasm that his holy +vows had put between them. They stood so only an instant. He was +trembling in the extort to master himself, and in a second she felt the +hot blood rising to her face. Her woman's wit was the first to break the +hopeless situation. She turned, and hailed a passing car. "I cannot +walk any farther. Good-night." And she was gone. + +The priest stood as if a sudden blow had struck him, following the +retreating car till it was out of sight, and then turned homeward, dazed, +and with feeble steps. What was this that had come to him to so shake +his life? What devil was tempting him to break his vows and forsake his +faith? Should he fly from the city and from his work, or should he face +what seemed to him, in the light of his consecration, a monstrous +temptation, and try to conquer himself? He began to doubt his power to +do this. He had always believed that it was easy to conquer nature. +And now a little brown woman had taught him that he reckons ill who +leaves out the strongest human passion. And yet suppose he should break +his solemn vows and throw away his ideal, and marry Ruth Leigh, would he +ever be happy? Here was a mediaeval survival confronted by a nineteenth- +century skepticism. The situation was plainly insoluble. It was as +plainly so to the clear mind of the unselfish little woman without faith +as it was to him. Perhaps she could not have respected him if he had +yielded. Strangely enough, the attraction of the priest for her and for +other women who called themselves servants of humanity was in his +consecration, in his attitude of separation from the vanities and +passions of this world. They believed in him, though they did not share +his faith. To Ruth Leigh this experience of love was as unexpected as it +was to the priest. Perhaps because her life was lived on a less exalted +plane she could bear it with more equanimity. But who knows? The habit +of her life was endurance, the sturdy meeting of the duty of every day, +with at least only a calm regard of the future. And she would go on. +But who can measure the inner change in her life? She must certainly be +changed by this deep experience, and, terrible as it was, perhaps +ennobled by it. Is there not something supernatural in such a love +itself? It has a wonderful transforming power. It is certain that a new +light, a tender light, was cast upon her world. And who can say that +some time, in the waiting and working future, this new light might not +change life altogether for this faithful soul? + +There was one person upon whom the tragedy of life thus far sat lightly. +Even her enemies, if she had any, would not deny that Carmen had an +admirable temperament. If she had been a Moslem, it might be predicted +that she would walk the wire 'El Serat' without a tremor. In these days +she was busy with the plans of her new house. The project suited her +ambition and her taste. The structure grew in her mind into barbaric +splendor, but a barbaric splendor refined, which reveled in the exquisite +adornment of the Alhambra itself. She was in daily conferences with her +architect and her artists, she constantly consulted Jack about it, and +Mavick whenever he was in town, and occasionally she awakened the +interest of Henderson himself, who put no check upon her proceedings, +although his mind was concerned with a vaster structure of his own. +She talked of little else, until in her small world there grew up a vast +expectation of magnificence, of which hints appeared from time to time in +the newspapers, mysterious allusions to Roman luxury, to Nero and his +Golden House. Henderson read these paragraphs, as he read the paragraphs +about his own fortune, with a grim smile. + +"Your house is getting a lot of free advertising," he said to Carmen one +evening after dinner in the library, throwing the newspaper on the table +as he spoke. + +"They all seem to like the idea," replied Carmen. "Did you see what one +of the papers said about the use of wealth in adorning the city? That's +my notion." + +"I suppose," said Henderson, with a smile, "that you put that notion into +the reporter's head." + +"But he thought he suggested it to me." + +"Let's look over the last drawing." Henderson half rose from his chair +to pull the sheet towards him, but instantly sank back, and put his hand +to his heart. Carmen saw that he was very pale, and ran round to his +chair. + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing," he said, taking a long breath. "Just a stitch. Indigestion. +It must have been the coffee." + +Carmen ran to the dining-room, and returned with a wineglass of brandy. + +"There, take that." + +He drank it. "Yes, that's better. I'm all right now." And he sat +still, slowly recovering color and control of himself. + +"I'm going to send for the doctor." + +"No, no; nonsense. It has all passed," and he stretched out his arms +and threw them back vigorously. "It was only a moment's faintness. It's +quite gone." + +He rose from his chair and took a turn or two about the room. Yes, he +was quite himself, and he patted Carmen's head as he passed and took his +seat again. For a moment or two there was silence. Then he said, still +as if reflecting: + +"Isn't it queer? In that moment of faintness all my life flashed through +my mind." + +"It has been a very successful life," Carmen said, by way of saying +something. + +"Yes, yes; but I wonder if it was worth while?" + +"If I were a man, I should enjoy the power you have, the ability to do +what you will." + +"I suppose I do. That is all there is. I like to conquer obstacles, and +I like to command. And money; I never did care for money in itself. +But there is a fascination in building up a great fortune. It is like +conducting a political or a military campaign. Now, I haven't much +interest in anything else." + +As he spoke he looked round upon the crowded shelves of his library, and, +getting up, went to the corner where there was a shelf of rare editions +and took down a volume. + +"Do you remember when I got this, Carmen? It was when I was a bachelor. +It was rare then. I saw it quoted the other day as worth twice the price +I gave for it." + +He replaced it carefully, and walked along the shelves looking at the +familiar titles. + +"I used to read then. And you read still; you have time." + +"Not those books," she replied, with a laugh. "Those belong to the last +generation." + +"That is where I belong," he said, smiling also. "I don't think I have +read a book, not really read it, in ten years. This modern stuff that +pretends to give life is so much less exciting than my own daily +experience that I cannot get interested in it. Perhaps I could read +these calm old books." + +"It is the newspapers that take your time," Carmen suggested. + +"Yes, they pass the time when I am thinking. And they are full of +suggestions. I suppose they are as accurate about other things as about +me. I used to think I would make this library the choicest in the city. +It is good as far as it goes. Perhaps I will take it up some day--if I +live." And he turned away from the shelves and sat down. Carmen had +never seen him exactly in this humor and was almost subdued by it. + +He began to talk again, philosophizing about life generally and his own +life. He seemed to like to recall his career, and finally said: "Uncle +Jerry is successful too, and he never did care for anything else--except +his family. There is a clerk in my office on five thousand a year who is +never without a book when he comes to the office and when I see him on +the train. He has a wife and a nice little family in Jersey. I ask him +sometimes about his reading. He is collecting a library, but not of rare +books; says he cannot afford that. I think he is successful too, or will +be if he never gets more than five thousand a year, and is content with +his books and his little daily life, coming and going to his family. +Ah, well! Everybody must live his life. I suppose there is some +explanation of it all." + +"Has anything gone wrong?" asked Carmen, anxiously. + +"No, not at all. Nothing to interfere with the house of gold." He spoke +quite gently and sincerely. "I don't know what set me into this +moralizing. Let's look at the plans." + +The next day--it was the first of June--in consultation with the +architect, a project was broached that involved such an addition of cost +that Carmen hesitated. She declared that it was a question of ways and +means, and that she must consult the chairman. Accordingly she called +her carriage and drove down to Henderson's office. + +It was a beautiful day, a little warm in the narrow streets of the lower +city, but when she had ascended by the elevator to the high story that +Henderson occupied in one of the big buildings that rise high enough to +give a view of New York Harbor, and looked from the broad windows upon +one of the most sparkling and animated scenes in the world, it seemed +to her appreciative eyes a day let down out of Paradise. + +The clerks all knew Mrs. Henderson, and they rose and bowed as she +tripped along smiling towards her husband's rooms. It did not seem to be +a very busy day, and she found no one waiting in the anteroom, and passed +into the room of his private secretary. + +"Is Mr. Henderson in?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"And busy?" + +"Probably busy," replied the secretary, with a smile, "but he is alone. +No one has disturbed him for over half an hour." + +"Then I will go in." + +She tapped lightly at the door. There was no response. She turned the +knob softly and looked in, and then, glancing back at the secretary, with +a finger uplifted, "I think he is asleep," opened the door, stepped in, +and closed it carefully. + +The large room was full of light, and through the half-dozen windows +burst upon her the enchanting scene of the Bay, Henderson sat at his +table, which was covered with neatly arranged legal documents, but bowed +over it, his head resting upon his arms. + +"So, Rodney, this is the way, old boy, that you wear yourself out in +business!" + +She spoke laughingly, but he did not stir, and she tiptoed along to +awaken him. + +She touched his hand. It moved heavily away from her hand. The left +arm, released, dropped at his side. + +She started back, her eyes round with terror, and screamed. + +Instantly the secretary was at her side, and supported her, fainting, to +a seat. Other clerks rushed in at the alarm. Henderson was lifted from +his chair and laid upon a lounge. When the doctor who had been called +arrived, Carmen was in a heap by the low couch, one arm thrown across the +body, and her head buried in the cushion close to his. + +The doctor instantly applied restoratives; he sent for an electric +battery; everything was done that science could suggest. But all was of +no avail. There was no sign of life. He must have been dead half an +hour, said the doctor. It was evidently heart-failure. + +Before the doctor had pronounced his verdict there was a whisper in the +Stock Exchange. + +"Henderson is dead!" + +"It is not possible," said one. + +"I saw him only yesterday," said another. + +"I was in his office this morning," said a third. "I never saw him +looking in better health." + +The whisper was confirmed. There was no doubt of it. Henderson's +private secretary had admitted it. Yet it seemed incredible. No +provision had been made for it. Speculation had not discounted it. +A panic set in. No one knew what to do, for no one knew well the state +of Henderson's affairs. In the first thirty minutes there was a +tremendous drop in Henderson stocks. Then some of them rallied, but +before the partial recovery hundreds of men had been ruined. It was a +wild hour in the Exchange. Certain stocks were hopelessly smashed for +the time, and some combinations were destroyed; among them was one that +Uncle Jerry had kept out of; and Jack Delancy was hopelessly ruined. + +The event was flashed over the wires of the continent; it was bulletined; +it was cried in the streets; it was the all-absorbing talk of the town. +Already, before the dead man was removed to his own house, people were +beginning to moralize about him and his career. Perhaps the truest thing +was said by the old broker in the board whose reputation for piety was +only equaled by his reputation of always having money to loan at +exorbitant rates in a time of distress. He said to a group of downcast +operators, "In the midst of life we are in death." + + + + +XX + +The place that Rodney Henderson occupied in the mind of the public was +shown by the attention the newspapers paid to his death. All the great +newspapers in all the cities of importance published long and minute +biographies of him, with pictorial illustrations, and day after day +characteristic anecdotes of his remarkable career. Nor was there, it is +believed, a newspaper in the United States, secular, religious, or +special, that did not comment upon his life. This was the more +remarkable in that he was not a public man in the common use of the word: +he had never interested himself in politics, or in public affairs, +municipal or State or national; he had devoted himself entirely to +building up his private fortune. If this is the duty of a citizen, he +had discharged it with singleness of purpose; but no other duty of the +citizen had he undertaken, if we except his private charities. And yet +no public man of his day excited more popular interest or was the subject +of more newspaper comment. + +And these comments were nearly all respectful, and most of them kindly. +There was some justice in this, for Henderson had been doing what +everybody else was trying to do, usually without his good-fortune. +If he was more successful than others in trying to get rich, surely a +great deal of admiration was mingled with the envy of his career. To be +sure, some journals were very severe upon his methods, and some revived +the old stories of his unscrupulousness in transactions which had laid +him open to criminal prosecution, from the effects of which he was only +saved by uncommon adroitness and, some said, by legal technicalities. +His career also was denounced by some as wholly vicious in its effect +upon the youth of the republic, and as lowering the tone of public +morals. And yet it was remembered that he had been a frank, open-hearted +friend, kind to his family, and generous in contrast with some of his +close-fisted contemporaries. There was nothing mean about him; even his +rascalities, if you chose to call his transactions by that name, were on +a grand scale. To be sure, he would let nothing stand between him and +the consummation of his schemes--he was like Napoleon in that--but those +who knew him personally liked him. The building up of his colossal +fortune--which the newspapers were saying was the largest that had been +accumulated in one lifetime in America--had ruined thousands of people, +and carried disaster into many peaceful houses, and his sudden death had +been a cyclone of destruction for an hour. But it was hardly fair, one +journal pointed out, to hold Henderson responsible for his untimely +death. + +Even Jack Delancy, when the crushing news was brought him at the club, +where he sat talking with Major Fairfax, although he saw his own ruin in +a flash, said, "It wouldn't have happened if Henderson had lived." + +"Not so soon," replied the Major, hesitatingly. + +"Do you mean to say that Henderson and Mavick and Mrs. Henderson would +have thrown me over?" + +"Why, no, not exactly; but a big machine grinds on regardless, and when +the crash comes everybody looks out for himself." + +"I think I'll telegraph to Mavick." + +"That wouldn't do any good now. He couldn't have stopped the panic. +I tell you what, you'd better go down to your brokers and see just how +matters stand." + +And the two went down to Wall Street. It was after hours, but the +brokers' office was full of excitement. No one knew what was left from +the storm, nor what to expect. It was some time before Jack could get +speech with one of the young men of the firm. + +"How is it?" he asked. + +"It's been a ---- of a time." + +"And Henderson?" + +"Oh, his estate is all right, so far as we know. He was well out of the +Missouris." + +"And the Missouri?" + +"Bottom dropped out; temporarily, anyway." + +"And my account?" + +"Wiped out, I am sorry to say. Might come up by-and-by, if you've got a +lot of money to put up, and wait." + +"Then it's all up," said Jack, turning to the Major. He was very pale. +He knew now that his fortune was gone absolutely--house, everything. + +Few words were exchanged as they made their way back to the club. And +here the Major did a most unusual thing for him. He ordered the drinks. +But he did this delicately, apologetically. + +"I don't know as you care for anything, but Wall Street has made me +thirsty. Eh?" + +"I don't mind if I do," Jack replied. + +And they sat down. + +The conversation was not cheerful; it was mainly ejaculatory. After a +second glass, Jack said, "I don't suppose it would do any good, but I +should like to see Mavick." And then, showing the drift of his thoughts, +"I wonder what Carmen will do?" + +"I should say that will depend upon the will," replied the Major. + +"She is a good-hearted woman," and Jack's tone was one of inquiry. + +"She hasn't any, Jack. Not the least bit of a heart. And I believe +Henderson found it out. I shall be surprised if his will doesn't show +that he knew it." + +A servant came to the corner where they were sitting and handed Jack a +telegram. + +"What's this? Mavick? "He tore it open. "No; Edith." He read it with +something like a groan, and passed it over to the Major. + +What he read was this: "Don't be cast down, Jack. The boy and I are +well. Come. Edith." + +"That is splendid; that is just like her," cried the Major. "I'd be out +of this by the first train." + +"It is no use," replied Jack gloomily. "I couldn't 'face Edith now. +I couldn't do it. I wonder how she knew?" + +He called back the servant, and penned as reassuring a message as he +could, but said that it was impossible to leave town. She must not worry +about him. This despatched, they fell again into a talk about the +situation. After another glass Jack was firm in his resolution to stay +and watch things. It seemed not impossible that something might turn up. + +On the third day after, both the Major and Jack attended the funeral at +the house. Carmen was not visible. The interment was private. The day +following, Jack left his card of condolence at the door; but one day +passed, and another and another, and no word of acknowledgment came from +the stricken widow. Jack said to himself that it was not natural to +expect it. But he did expect it, and without reason, for he should have +known that Carmen was not only overwhelmed with the sudden shock of her +calamity, but that she would necessarily be busy with affairs that even +grief would not permit her to neglect. Jack heard that Mavick had been +in the city, and that he went to the Henderson house, but he had not +called at the club, and the visit must have been a flying one. + +A week passed, and Jack received no message from Carmen. His note +offering his services if she needed the services of any one had not been +answered. + +Carmen was indeed occupied. It could not be otherwise. The state of +Henderson's affairs could not wait upon conventionalities. The day after +the funeral Mr. Henderson's private secretary came to the house, and had +a long interview with Mrs. Henderson. He explained to her that the +affairs should be immediately investigated, the will proved, and the +estate put into the hands of the executors. It would be best for Mrs. +Henderson herself to bring his keys down to the office, and to see the +opening of his desk and boxes. Meantime it would be well for her to see +if there were any papers of importance in the house; probably everything +was in the office safe. + +The next morning Carmen nerved herself to the task. With his keys in +hand she went alone into the library and opened his writing-desk. +Everything was in perfect order; letters and papers filed and labeled, +and neatly arranged in drawers and pigeonholes. There lay his letter- +book as he had last used it, and there lay fresh memoranda of his +projects and engagements. She found in one of the drawers some letters +of her own, mostly notes, and most of them written before her marriage. +In another drawer were some bundles of letters, a little yellow with age, +endorsed with the name of "Margaret." She shut the drawer without +looking at them. She continued to draw papers from the pigeon-holes and +glance at them. Most of them related to closed transactions. At length +she drew out one that instantly fixed her attention. It was endorsed, +"Last Will and Testament." She looked first at the date at the end--it +was quite recent--and then leaned back in her chair and set herself +deliberately to read it. + +The document was long and full of repetitions and technicalities, but the +purport of it was plain. As she read on she was at first astonished, +then she was excited to trembling, and felt herself pale and faint; but +when she had finished and fully comprehended it her pretty face was +distorted with rage. The great bulk of the property was not for her. +She sprang up and paced the floor. She came back and took up the +document with a motion of tearing it in pieces. No--it would be better +to burn it. Of course there must be another will deposited in the safe. +Henderson had told her so. It was drawn up shortly after their marriage. +It could not be worse for her than this. She lighted the gas-jet by the +fireplace, and held the paper in her hand. Then a thought struck her. +What if somebody knew of this will, and its execution could be proved! +She looked again at the end. It was signed and sealed. There were the +names of two witnesses. One was the name of their late butler, who had +been long in Henderson's service, and who had died less than a month ago. +The other name was Thomas Mavick. Evidently the will had been signed +recently, on some occasion when Mavick was in the house. And Henderson's +lawyer probably knew it also! + +She folded the document carefully, put it back in the pigeon-hole, locked +the desk, and rang the bell for her carriage. She was ready when the +carriage came to the door, and told the coachman to drive to the office +of Mr. Sage in Nassau Street. Mr. Sage had been for many years +Henderson's most confidential lawyer. + +He received Carmen in his private office, with the subdued respect due to +her grief and the sudden tragedy that had overtaken her. He was a man +well along in years, a small man, neat in his dress, a little formal and +precise in his manner, with a smoothly shaven face and gray eyes, keen, +but not unkindly in expression. He had the reputation, which he +deserved, for great ability and integrity. After the first salutations +and words of condolence were spoken, Carmen said, "I have come to consult +you, Mr. Sage, about my husband's affairs." + +"I am quite at your service, madam." + +"I wanted to see you before I went to the office with the keys of his +safe." + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Sage, "I could spare you that trouble." + +"Oh no; his secretary thought I had better come myself, if I could." + +"Very well," said Mr. Sage. + +Carmen hesitated a moment, and then said, in an inquiring tone, +"I suppose the first thing is the will. He told me long ago that his +will was made. I suppose it is in the safe. Didn't you draw it, Mr. +Sage?" + +"Oh yes," the lawyer replied, leaning back in his chair, "I drew that; +a long time ago; shortly after your marriage. And about a year ago I +drew another one. Did he ever speak of that?" + +"No," Carmen replied, with a steady voice, but trembling inwardly at her +narrow escape. + +"I wonder," continued Mr. Sage, "if it was ever executed? He took it, +and said he would think it over." + +"Executed?" queried Carmen, looking up. "How do you mean, before a +magistrate?" + +"Oh, no; signed and witnessed. It is very simple. The law requires two +witnesses; the testator and the witnesses must declare that they sign in +the presence of each other. The witnesses prove the will, or, if they +are dead, their signatures can be proved. I was one of the witnesses of +the first will, and a clerk of Henderson's, who is still in his office, +was the other." + +"The last one is probably in the safe if it was executed." + +"Probably," the lawyer assented. "If not, you'd better look for it in +the house." + +"Of course. Whether it exists or not, I want to carry out my husband's +intention," Carmen said, sweetly. "Have you any memorandum of it?" + +"I think so, somewhere, but the leading provisions are in my mind. It +would astonish the public." + +"Why?" asked Carmen. + +"Well, the property was greater than any of us supposed, and--perhaps I +ought not to speak to you of this now, Mrs. Henderson." + +"I think I have a right to know what my husband's last wishes were," +Carmen answered, firmly. + +"Well, he had a great scheme. The greater part of his property after the +large legacies--" The lawyer saw that Carmen looked pale, and he +hesitated a moment, and then said, in a cheery manner: "Oh, I assure you, +madam, that this will gave you a great fortune; all the establishment, +and a very great fortune. But the residue was in trust for the building +and endowment of an Industrial School on the East Side, with a great +library and a reading-room, all to be free. It was a great scheme, and +carefully worked out." + +"I am so glad to know this," said Carmen. "Was there anything else?" + +"Only some legacies." And Mr. Sage went on, trying to recall details +that his attentive listener already knew. There were legacies to some of +his relatives in New Hampshire, and there was a fund, quite a handsome +fund, for the poor of the city, called the "Margaret Fund." And there +was something also for a relative of the late Mrs. Henderson. + +Carmen again expressed her desire to carry out her husband's wishes in +everything, and Mr. Sage was much impressed by her sweet manner. When +she had found out all that he knew or remembered of the new will, and +arose to go, Mr. Sage said he would accompany her to the office. And +Carmen gratefully accepted his escort, saying that she had wished to ask +him to go with her, but that she feared to take up so much of his time. + +At the office the first will was found, but no other. The lawyer glanced +through it, and then handed it to Mrs. Henderson, with the remark, "It +leaves you, madam, pretty much everything of which he died possessed." +Carmen put it aside. She did not care to read it now. She would go home +and search for the other one. + +"If no other is found," said Mr. Sage, in bidding her good-morning," +this one ought to be proved tomorrow. I may tell you that you and Mr. +Hollowell are named as executors." + +On her way home Carmen stopped at a telegraph station, and sent a message +to Mavick, in Washington, to take an afternoon train and come to New +York. + +When Carmen reached home she was in a serious but perfectly clear frame +of mind. The revelation in the last will of Henderson's change of mind +towards her was mortifying to a certain extent. It was true that his +fortune was much increased since the first will was made, and that it +justified his benevolent scheme. But he might have consulted her about +it. If she had argued the matter with her conscience, she would have +told her conscience that she would carry out this new plan in her own way +and time. She was master of the situation, and saw before her a future +of almost unlimited opportunity and splendor, except for one little +obstacle. That obstacle was Mr. Mavick. She believed that she +understood him thoroughly, but she could not take the next step until she +had seen him. It was true that no one except herself positively knew +that a second will now existed, but she did not know how much he might +choose to remember. + +She was very impatient to see Mr. Mavick. She wandered about the house, +restless and feverish. Presently it occurred to her that it would be +best to take the will wholly into her own keeping. She unlocked the +desk, took it out with a trembling hand, but did not open it again. +It was not necessary. A first reading had burned every item of it into +her brain. It seemed to be a sort of living thing. She despised herself +for being so agitated, and for the furtive feeling that overcame her as +she glanced about to be sure that she was alone, and then she ran up +stairs to her room and locked the document in her own writing-desk. + +What was that? Oh, it was only the door-bell. But who could it be? +Some one from the office, from her lawyer? She could see nobody. In two +minutes there was a rap at her door. It was only the servant with a +despatch. She took it and opened it without haste. + +"Very well, Dobson; no answer. I expect Mr. Mavick on business at ten. +I am at home to no one else." + +At ten o'clock Mr. Mavick came, and was shown into the library, where +Carmen awaited him. + +"It was very good of you to come," she said, as she advanced to meet him +and gave him her hand in the natural subdued manner that the +circumstances called for. + +"I took the first train after I received your despatch." + +"I am sorry to inconvenience you so," she said, after they were seated, +"but you know so much of Mr. Henderson's affairs that your advice will be +needed. His will is to be proved tomorrow." + +"Yes?" said Mavick. + +"I went to see--Mr. Sage today, and he went with me to the office. The +will was in the safe. I did not read it, but Mr. Sage said that it left +everything to me except a few legacies." + +"Yes?" + +"He said it should be proved tomorrow, unless a later will turned up." + +"Was there a later will?" + +"That is what he did not know. He had drawn a new will about a year ago, +but he doubted if it had ever been executed. Mr. Henderson was +considering it. He thought he had a memorandum of it somewhere, but he +remembered the principal features of it." + +"Was it a great change from the first?" Mavick asked. + +"Yes, considerable. In fact, the greater part of his property, as far as +I could make out, was to go to endow a vast training-school, library, and +reading-room on the East Side. Of course that would be a fine thing." + +"Of course," said Mavick. "And no such will has been found?" + +"I've looked everywhere," replied Carmen, simply; "all over the house. +It should be in that desk if anywhere. We can look again, but I feel +pretty sure there is no such document there." + +She took in her hand the bunch of keys that lay on the table, as if she +were about to rise and unlock the desk. Then she hesitated, and looked +Mavick full in the face. + +"Do you think, Mr. Mavick, that will was ever executed?" + +For a moment they looked steadily at each other, and then he said, +deliberately, their eyes squarely meeting, "I do not think it was." +And in a moment he added, "He never said anything to me about such a +disposition of his property." + +Two things were evident to Carmen from this reply. He saw her interests +as she saw them, and it was pretty certain that the contents of the will +were not made known to him when he witnessed it. She experienced an +immense feeling of relief as she arose and unlocked the desk. They sat +down before it together, and went over its contents. Mavick made a note +of the fresh business memoranda that might be of service next day, since +Mrs. Henderson had requested him to attend the proving of the will, and +to continue for the present the business relations with her that he had +held with Mr. Henderson. + +It was late when he left the house, but he took with him a note to Mr. +Sage to drop into the box for morning delivery. The note said that she +had searched the house, that no second will existed there, and that she +had telegraphed to Mr. Mavick, who had much knowledge of Mr. Henderson's +affairs, to meet him in the morning. And she read the note to Mavick +before she sealed it. + +Before the note could have been dropped into the box, Carmen was in her +room, and the note was literally true. No second will existed. + +The will was proved, and on the second day its contents were in all the +newspapers. But with it went a very exciting story. This was the rumor +of another will, and of Henderson's vast scheme of benevolence. Mr. Sage +had been interviewed and Carmen had been interviewed. The memorandum +(which was only rough and not wholly legible notes) had been found and +sent to Carmen. There was no concealment about it. She gave the +reporters all the details, and to every one she said that it was her +intention to carry out her husband's wishes, so far as they could be +ascertained from this memorandum, when his affairs had been settled. +The thirst of the reporters for information amused even Carmen, who had +seen much of this industrious tribe. One of them, to whom she had +partially explained the situation, ended by asking her, "Are you going to +contest the will?" + +"Contest the will?" cried Carmen. "There is nothing to contest." + +"I didn't know," said the young man, whose usual occupation was reporting +sports, and who had a dim idea that every big will must be contested. + +Necessarily the affair made a great deal of talk. The newspapers +discussed it for days, and turned over the scheme in every light, the +most saying that it was a noble gift to the city that had been intended, +while only one or two doubted if charity institutions of this sort really +helped the poor. Regret, of course, was expressed that the second will +had never been executed, but with this regret was the confidence that the +widow would carry out, eventually, Henderson's plans. + +This revelation modified the opinion in regard to Henderson. He came to +be regarded as a public benefactor, and his faithful wife shared the +credit of his noble intention. + + + + +XXI + +Waiting for something to turn up, Jack found a weary business. He had +written to Mavick after the newspaper report that that government officer +had been in the city on Henderson's affairs, and had received a very +civil and unsatisfactory reply. In the note Mavick had asked him to come +to Washington and spend a little time, if he had nothing better on hand, +as his guest. Perhaps no offense was intended, but the reply enraged +Jack. There was in the tone of the letter and in the manner of the +invitation a note of patronage that was unendurable. + +"Confound the fellow's impudence!" said Jack to himself; and he did not +answer the invitation. + +Personally his situation was desperate enough, but he was not inclined to +face it. In a sort of stupor he let the law take its course. There was +nothing left of his fortune, and his creditors were in possession of his +house and all it contained. "Do not try to keep anything back that +legally belongs to them," Edith had written when he informed her of this +last humiliation. Of course decency was observed. Jack's and Edith's +wardrobes, and some pieces of ancestral furniture that he pointed out as +belonging to his wife, were removed before the auction flag was hung out. +When this was over he still temporized. Edith's affectionate entreaties +to him to leave the dreadful city and come home were evaded on one plea +or another. He had wild schemes of going off West or South-- +of disappearing. Perhaps he would have luck somewhere. He couldn't ask +aid or seek occupation of his friends, but some place where he was not +known he felt that he might do something to regain his position, get some +situation, or make some money--lots of men had done it in a new country +and reinstate himself in Edith's opinion. + +But he did not go, and days and weeks went by in irresolution. No word +came from Carmen, and this humiliated Jack more than anything else--not +the loss of her friendship, but the remembrance that he had ever danced +attendance on her and trusted her. He was getting a good many wholesome +lessons in these days. + +One afternoon he called upon Miss Tavish. There was no change in her. +She received him with her usual gay cordiality, and with no affectation. + +"I didn't know what had become of you," she said. + +"I've been busy," he replied, with a faint attempt at a smile. + +"Yes, I know. It's been an awful time, what with Henderson's death and +everything else. Almost everybody has been hit. But," and she looked at +him cheerfully, "they will come up again; up and down; it is always so. +Why, even I got a little twist in that panic." The girl was doing what +she could in her way to cheer him up. + +"I think of going off somewhere to seek my fortune," said Jack, with a +rueful smile. + +"Oh, I hope not; your friends wouldn't like that. There is no place like +New York, I'm sure." And there was a real note of friendliness and +encouragement in her tone. "Only," and she gave him another bright +smile, "I think of running away from it myself, for a time. It's a +secret yet. Carmen wants me to go abroad with her." + +"I have not seen Mrs. Henderson since her husband's death. How is she?" + +"Oh, she bears up wonderfully. But then she has so much to do, poor +thing. And then the letters she gets, the begging letters. You've no +idea. I don't wonder she wants to go abroad. Don't stay away so long +again," she said as Jack rose to go. "And, oh, can't you come in to +dinner tomorrow night--just Carmen--I think I can persuade her--and +nobody else?" + +"I'm sorry that I have an engagement," Jack answered. + +"Well, some other time. Only soon." + +This call did Jack temporarily a world of good. It helped his self- +esteem. But it was only temporary. The black fact stared him in the +face every morning that he was ruined. And it came over him gradually +that he was a useless member of society. He never had done anything; he +was not trained or fitted to do anything. And this was impressed upon +him in the occasional attempts he made to get employment. He avoided as +much as possible contact with those who knew him. Shame prevented him +from applying to them for occupation, and besides he very well knew that +to those who knew him his idle career was no recommendation. Yet he +formed a habit of going down-town every day and looking for work. His +appearance commanded civility, but everywhere he met with refusal, and he +began to feel like a well-bred tramp. There had been in his mind before +no excuse for tramps. He could see now how they were made. + +It was not that he lacked capacity. He knew a great deal, in an +amateurish way, about pictures, books, bric-a-brac, and about society. +Why shouldn't he write? He visited the Loan Exhibition, and wrote a +careful criticism on the pictures and sent it to a well-known journal. +It was returned with thanks: the journal had its own art critic. He +prepared other articles about curious books, and one about porcelain and +pottery. They were all returned, except one which gave the history of a +rare bit of majolica, which had been picked up forty cents and then sold +for five hundred dollars, and was now owned by a collector who had paid +four thousand dollars for it. For that the newspaper sent him five +dollars. That was not encouraging, and his next effort for the same +journal was returned. Either he hadn't the newspaper knack, or the +competition was too great. + +He had ceased going to his club. It was too painful to meet his +acquaintances in his altered circumstances, and it was too expensive. +It even annoyed him to meet Major Fairfax. That philosopher had not +changed towards him any more than Miss Tavish had, but it was a +melancholy business to talk of his affairs, and to listen to the repeated +advice to go down to the country to Edith, and wait for some good +opening. That was just what he could not do. His whole frivolous life +he began now to see as she must have seen it. And it seemed to him that +he could only retain a remnant of his self-respect by doing something +that would reinstate him in her opinion. + +"Very well," said the Major, at the close of the last of their talks at +the club; "what are you going to do?" + +"I'm going into some business," said Jack, stiffly. + +"Have you spoken to any of your friends?" + +"No. It's no use," he said, bitterly; "they are all like me, or they +know me." + +"And hasn't your wife some relations who are in business?" + +"The last people I should apply to. No. I'm going to look around. +Major, do you happen to know a cheap lodging-house that is respectable?" + +"I don't know any that is not respectable," the Major replied, in a huffy +manner. + +"I beg your pardon," said Jack. "I want to reduce expenses." + +The Major did know of a place in the neighborhood where he lived. +He gave Jack the address, and thereafter the club and his usual resorts +knew him no more. + +As the days went by and nothing happened to break the monotony of his +waiting and his fruitless search, he became despondent. Day after day he +tramped about the city, among the business portions, and often on the +East Side, to see misery worse than his own. He had saved out of the +wreck his ample wardrobe, his watch, and some jewelry, and upon these he +raised money for his cheap lodgings and his cheap food. He grew careless +of his personal appearance. Every morning he rose and went about the +city, always with less hope, and every night he returned to his lodging, +but not always sober. + +One day he read the announcement that Mrs. Rodney Henderson and Miss +Tavish had sailed for Europe. That ended that chapter. What exactly he +had expected he could not say. Help from Carmen? Certainly not. But +there had never been a sign from her, nor any word from Mavick lately. +There evidently was nothing. He had been thrown over. Carmen evidently +had no more use for him. She had other plans. The thought that he had +been used and duped was almost more bitter than his loss. + +In after-days Jack looked back upon this time with a feeling akin to +thankfulness for Carmen's utter heartlessness in regard to his affairs. +He trembled to think what might have happened to him if she had sent for +him and consulted him and drawn him again into the fatal embrace of her +schemes and her fascinations. Now he was simply enraged when he thought +of her, and irritated with himself. + +These were dark days, days to which he looked back with a shudder. +He wrote to Edith frequently--a brief note. He was straightening out his +affairs; he was busy. But he did not give her his address, and he only +got her letters when the Major forwarded them from the club, which was +irregularly. A stranger, who met him at his lodgings or elsewhere, would +have said that he was an idle and rather dissipated-looking man. He was +idle, except in his feeble efforts to get work; he was worn and +discouraged, but he was not doing anything very bad. In his way of +looking at it, he was carrying out his notion of honor. He was only +breaking a woman's heart. + +He was conscious of little except his own misfortunes and misery. He did +not yet apprehend his own selfishness nor her nobility. He did not yet +comprehend the unselfishness of a good woman's love. + +On the East Side one day, as he was sauntering along Grand Street, he +encountered Dr. Leigh, his wife's friend, whom he had seen once at his +house. She did not at first recognize him until he stopped and spoke his +name. + +"Oh," she said, with surprise at seeing him, and at his appearance, +"I didn't expect to see you here. I thought everybody had gone from the +city. Perhaps you are going to the Neighborhood Guild?" + +"No," and Jack forced a little laugh, "I'm not so good as that. I'm kept +in town on business. I strolled over here to see how the other side of +life looks." + +"It doesn't improve. It is one of the worst summers I ever saw. Since +Mr. Henderson's death--" + +"What difference did Henderson's death make over here?" + +"Why, he had deposited a little fund for Father Damon to draw on, and the +day after his death the bank returned a small check with the notice that +there was no deposit to draw on. It had been such a help in +extraordinary cases. Perhaps you saw some allusion to it in the +newspapers?" + +"Wasn't it the Margaret Fund?" + +"Yes. Father Damon dropped a note to Mrs. Henderson explaining about it. +No reply came." + +"As he might have expected." Dr. Leigh looked up quickly as if for an +explanation, but Jack ignored the query, and went on. "And Father Damon, +is he as active as ever?" + +"He has gone." + +"What, left the city, quit his work? And the mission?" + +"I don't suppose he will ever quit his work while he lives, but he is +much broken down. The mission chapel is not closed, but a poor woman +told me that it seemed so." + +"And he will not return? Mrs. Delancy will be so sorry." + +"I think not. He is in retreat now, and I heard that he might go to +Baltimore. I thought of your wife. She was so interested in his work. +Is she well this summer?" + +"Yes, thank you," said Jack, and they parted. But as she went on her way +his altered appearance struck her anew, and she wondered what had +happened. + +This meeting with Mr. Delancy recalled most forcibly Edith, her interest +in the East Side work, her sympathy with Father Damon and the mission, +the first flush of those days of enthusiasm. When Father Damon began his +work the ladies used to come in their carriages to the little chapel with +flowers and money and hearts full of sympathy with the devoted priest. +Alone of all these Edith had been faithful in her visits, always, when +she was in town. And now the whole glittering show of charity had +vanished for the time, and Father Damon-- The little doctor stopped, +consulted a memorandum in her hand-bag, looked up at the tenement-house +she was passing, and then began to climb its rickety stairway. + +Yes, Father Damon had gone, and Ruth Leigh simply went on with her work +as before. Perhaps in all the city that summer there was no other person +whose daily life was so little changed as hers. Others were driven away +by the heat, by temporary weariness, by the need of a vacation and change +of scene. Some charities and some clubs and schools were temporarily +suspended; other charities, befitting the name, were more active, the +very young children were most looked after, and the Good Samaritans of +the Fresh-Air Funds went about everywhere full of this new enthusiasm of +humanity. But the occupation of Ruth Leigh remained always the same, +in a faithful pertinacity that nothing could wholly discourage, in a +routine that no projects could kindle into much enthusiasm. Day after +day she went about among the sick and the poor, relieving and counseling +individuals, and tiring herself out in that personal service, and more +and more conscious, when she had time, at night, for instance, to think, +of the monstrous injustice somewhere, and at times in a mood of fierce +revolt against the social order that made all this misery possible and +hopeless. + +Yet a great change had come into her life--the greatest that can come to +any man or woman in the natural order. She loved and she was loved. +An ideal light had been cast upon her commonplace existence, the depths +of her own nature had been revealed to herself. In this illuminating +light she walked about in the misery of this world. This love must be +denied, this longing of the heart for companionship could never be +gratified, yet after all it was a sweet self-sacrifice, and the love +itself brought its own consolation. She had not to think of herself as +weak, and neither was her lover's image dimmed to her by any surrender of +his own principle or his own ideal. She saw him, as she had first seen +him, a person consecrated and set apart, however much she might disagree +with his supernatural vagaries--set apart to the service of humanity. +She had bitter thoughts sometimes of the world, and bitter thoughts of +the false system that controlled his conduct, but never of him. + +It was unavoidable that she should recall her last interview with him, +and that the image of his noble, spiritual face should be ever distinct +in her mind. And there was even a certain comfort in this recollection. + +Father Damon had indeed striven, under the counsel of his own courage and +of Brother Monies, to conquer himself on the field of his temptation. +But with his frail physique it was asking too much. This at last was so +evident that the good brother advised him, and the advice was in the +nature of a command in his order, to retire for a while, and then take up +his work in a fresh field. + +When this was determined on, his desire was nearly irresistible to see +Ruth Leigh; he thought it would be cowardly to disappear and not say +good-by. Indeed, it was necessary to see her and explain the stoppage of +help from the Margaret Fund. The check that he had drawn, which was +returned, had been for one of Dr. Leigh's cases. With his failure to +elicit any response from Mrs. Henderson, the hope, raised by the +newspaper comments on the unexecuted will, that the fund would be renewed +was dissipated. + +In the interview which Father Damon sought with Dr. Leigh at the Women's +Hospital all this was explained, and ways and means were discussed for +help elsewhere. + +"I wanted to talk this over with you," said Father Damon, "because I am +going away to take a rest." + +"You need it, Father Damon," was Ruth's answer, in a professional manner. + +"And--and," he continued, with some hesitation, "probably I shall not +return to this mission." + +"Perhaps that will be best," she said, simply, but looking up at him now, +with a face full of tender sympathy. + +"I am sure of it," he replied, turning away from her gaze. "The fact is, +doctor, I am a little hipped--overworked, and all that. I shall pull +myself together with a little rest. But I wanted to tell you how much I +appreciate your work, and--and what a comfort you have been to me in my +poor labors. I used to hope that some time you would see this world in +relation to the other, and--" + +"Yes, I know," she interrupted, hastily, "I cannot think as you do, +but--" And she could not go on for a great lump in her throat. +Involuntarily she rose from her seat. The interview was too trying. +Father Damon rose also. There was a moment's painful silence as they +looked in each other's faces. Neither could trust the voice for speech. +He took her hand and pressed it, and said "God bless you!" and went out, +closing the door softly. + +A moment after he opened it again and stood on the threshold. She was in +her chair, her head bowed upon her arms on the table. As he spoke she +looked up, and she never forgot the expression of his face. + +"I want to say, Ruth"--he had never before called her by her first name, +and his accent thrilled her-- "that I shall pray for you as I pray for +myself, and though I may never see you again in this world, the greatest +happiness that can come to me in this life will be to hear that you have +learned to say Our Father which art in heaven." + +As she looked he was gone, and his last words remained a refrain in her +mind that evening and afterwards--"Our Father which art in heaven"-- +a refrain recurring again and again in all her life, inseparable from the +memory of the man she loved. + + + + +XXII + +Along the Long Island coast lay the haze of early autumn. It was the +time of lassitude. In the season of ripening and decay Nature seemed to +have lost her spring, and lay in a sort of delicious languor. Sea and +shore were in a kind of truce, and the ocean south wind brought cool +refreshment but no incentive. + +From the sea the old brown farmhouse seemed a snug haven of refuge; from +the inland road it appeared, with its spreading, sloping roofs, like an +ancient sea-craft come ashore, which had been covered in and then +embowered by kindly Nature with foliage. In those days its golden-brown +color was in harmony with the ripening orchards and gardens. + +Surely, if anywhere in the world, peace was here. But to its owner this +very peace and quietness was becoming intolerable. The waiting days were +so long, the sleepless nights of uncertainty were so weary. When her +work was done, and Edith sat with a book or some sewing under the arbor +where the grape clusters hung, growing dark and transparent, and the boy +played about near her, she had a view of the blue sea, and about her were +the twitter of birds and the hum of the cicada. The very beauty made her +heart ache. Seaward there was nothing--nothing but the leaping little +waves and the sky. From the land side help might come at any hour, and +at every roll of wheels along the road her heart beat faster and hope +sprang up anew. But day after day nothing came. + +Perhaps there is no greater bravery than this sort of waiting, doing the +daily duty and waiting. Endurance is woman's bravery, and Edith was +enduring, with an almost broken but still with a courageous heart. It +was all so strange. Was it simply shame that kept him away, or had he +ceased to love her? If the latter, there was no help for her. She had +begged him to come, she had offered to leave the boy with her cousin +companion and go to him. Perhaps it was pride only. In one of his short +letters he had said, "Thank God, your little fortune is untouched." +If it were pride only, how could she overcome it? Of this she thought +night and day. She thought, and she was restless, feverish, and growing +thin in her abiding anxiety. + +It was true that her own fortune was safe and in her control. But with +the usual instinct of women who know they have an income not likely to be +ever increased, she began to be economical. She thought not of herself; +but of the boy. It was the boy's fortune now. She began to look sharply +after expenses; she reduced her household; she took upon herself the care +of the boy, and other household duties. This was all well for her, for +it occupied her time, and to some extent diverted her thoughts. + +So the summer passed--a summer of anxiety, longing, and dull pain for +Edith. The time came when the uncertainty of it could no longer be +endured. If Jack had deserted her, even if he should die, she could +order her life and try to adjust her heavy burden. But this uncertainty +was quite beyond her power to sustain. + +She made up her mind that she would go to the city and seek him. It was +what he had written that she must not on any account do, but nothing that +could happen to her there could be so bad as this suspense. Perhaps she +could bring him back. If he refused, and was angry at her interference, +that even would be something definite. And then she had carefully +thought out another plan. It might fail, but some action had now become +for her a necessity. + +Early one morning--it was in September-she prepared for a journey to the +city. This little trip, which thousands of people made daily, took on +for her the air of an adventure. She had been immured so long that it +seemed a great undertaking. And when she bade good-by to the boy for the +day she hugged him and kissed him again and again, as if it were to be an +eternal farewell. To her cousin were given the most explicit directions +for his care, and after she had started for the train she returned to +give further injunctions. So she told herself, but it was really for one +more look at the boy. + +But on the whole there was a certain exhilaration in the preparation and +the going, and her spirits rose as they had not done in months before. +Arrived in the city, she drove at once to the club Jack most frequented. +"He is not in," the porter said; "indeed, Mr. Delancy has not been here +lately." + +"Is Major Fairfax in?" Edith asked. + +Major Fairfax was in, and he came out immediately to her carriage. +From him she learned Jack's address, and drove to his lodging-house. +The Major was more than civil; he was disposed to be sympathetic, but he +had the tact to see that Mrs. Delancy did not wish to be questioned, nor +to talk. + +"Is Mr. Delancy at home?" she asked the small boy who ran the elevator. + +"No'me." + +"And he did not say where he was going?" + +"No'me." + +"Is he not sometimes at home in the daytime?" + +"No'me." + +"And what time does he usually come home in the evening?" + +"Don't know. After I've gone, I guess." + +Edith hesitated whether she should leave a card or a note, but she +decided not to do either, and ordered the cabman to take her to Pearl +Street, to the house of Fletcher & Co. + +Mr. Fletcher, the senior partner, was her cousin, the son of her father's +elder brother, and a man now past sixty years. Circumstances had carried +the families apart socially since the death of her father and his +brother, but they were on the most friendly terms, and the ties of blood +were not in any way weakened. Indeed, although Edith had seen Gilbert +Fletcher only a few times since her marriage, she felt that she could go +to him any time if she were in trouble, with the certainty of sympathy +and help. He had the reputation of the old-fashioned New York merchants, +to whom her father belonged, for integrity and conservatism. + +It was to him that she went now. The great shop, or wholesale warehouse +rather, into which she entered from the narrow and cart-encumbered +street, showed her at once the nature of the business of Fletcher & Co. +It was something in the twine and cordage way. There were everywhere +great coils of ropes and bales of twine, and the dark rooms had a tarry +smell. Mr. Fletcher was in his office, a little space partitioned off +in the rear, with half a dozen clerks working by gaslight, and a little +sanctum where the senior partner was commonly found at his desk. + +Mr. Fletcher was a little, round-headed man, with a shrewd face, vigorous +and cheerful, thoroughly a man of business, never speculating, and who +had been slowly gaining wealth by careful industry and cautious extension +of his trade. Certain hours of the day--from ten to three--he gave to +his business. It was a habit, and it was a habit that he enjoyed. He +had now come back, as he told Edith, from a little holiday at the sea, +where his family were, to get into shape for the fall trade. + +Edith was closeted with him for a full hour. When she came out her eyes +were brighter and her step more elastic. At sundown she reached home, +almost in high spirits. And when she snatched up the boy and hugged him, +she whispered in his ear, "Baby, we have done it, and we shall see." + +One night when Jack returned from his now almost aimless tramping about +the city he found a letter on his table. It seemed from the printing on +the envelope to be a business letter; and business, in the condition he +was in--and it was the condition in which he usually came home--did not +interest him. He was about to toss the letter aside, when the name of +Fletcher caught his eye, and he opened it. + +It was a brief note, written on an office memorandum, which simply asked +Mr. Delancy to call at the office as soon as it was convenient, as the +writer wished to talk with him on a matter of business, and it was signed +"Gilbert Fletcher." + +"Why don't he say what his business is?" said Jack, throwing the letter +down impatiently. "I am not going to be hauled over the coals by any of +the Fletchers." And he tumbled into bed in an injured and yet +independent frame of mind. + +But the next morning he reread the formal little letter in a new light. +To be sure, it was from Edith's cousin. He knew him very well; he was +not a person to go out of his way to interfere with anybody, and more +than likely it was in relation to Edith's affairs that he was asked to +call. That thought put a new aspect on the matter. Of course if it +concerned her interests he ought to go. He dressed with unusual care for +him in these days, breakfasted at the cheap restaurant which he +frequented, and before noon was in the Fletcher warehouse in Pearl +Street. + +He had never been there before, and he was somewhat curious to see what +sort of a place it was where Gilbert carried on the string business, +as he used to call it when speaking to Edith of her cousin's occupation. +It was a much more dingy and smelly place than he expected, but the carts +about the doors, and the bustle of loading and unloading, of workmen +hauling and pulling, and of clerks calling out names and numbers to be +registered and checked, gave him the impression that it was not a dull +place. + +Mr. Fletcher received him in the little dim back office with a cordial +shake of the hand, gave him a chair, and reseated himself, pushing back +the papers in front of him with the air of a very busy man who was +dropping for a moment one thing in order to give his mind promptly to +another. + +"Our fall trade is just starting up," he said, "and it keeps us all +pretty busy." + +"Yes," said Jack. "I could drop in any other time--" + +"No, no," interrupted Mr. Fletcher; "it is just because I am busy that I +wanted to see you. Are you engaged in anything?" + +"Nothing in particular," replied Jack, hesitating. "I'd thought of going +into some business." And then, after a pause: "It's no use to mince +matters. You know--everybody knows, I suppose--that I got hit in that +Henderson panic." + +"So did lots of others," replied Mr. Fletcher, cheerfully. "Yes, I know +about it. And I'm not sure but it was a lucky thing for me." He spoke +still more cheerfully, and Jack looked at him inquiringly. + +"Are you open to an offer?" + +"I'm open to almost anything," Jack answered, with a puzzled look. + +"Well," and Mr. Fletcher settled back in his chair, "I can give you the +situation in five minutes. I've been in this business over thirty years +--yes; over thirty-five years. It has grown, little by little, until +it's a pretty big business. I've a partner, a first-rate man--he is in +Europe now--who attends to most of the buying. And the business keeps +spreading out, and needs more care. I'm not as young as I was I shall be +sixty-four in October--and I can't work right along as I used to. I find +that I come later and go away earlier. It isn't the 'work exactly, but +the oversight, the details; and the fact is that I want somebody near me +whom I can trust, whether I'm here or whether I'm away. I've got good, +honest, faithful clerks--if there was one I did not trust, I wouldn't +have him about. But do you know, Jack," it was the first time in the +interview that he had used this name--"there is something in blood." + +"Yes," Jack assented. + +"Well, I want a confidential clerk. That's it." + +"Me?" he asked. He was thinking rapidly while Mr. Fletcher had been +speaking; something like a revolution was taking place in his mind, and +when he asked this, the suggestion took on a humorous aspect--a humorous +view of anything had not occurred to him in months. + +"You are just the man." + +"I can be confidential," Jack rejoined, with the old smile on his face +that had been long a stranger to it, "but I don't know that I can be a +clerk." + +Mr. Fletcher was good enough to laugh at this pleasantry. + +"That's all right. It isn't much of a position. We can make the salary +twenty-five hundred dollars for a starter. Will you try it?" + +Jack got up and went to the area window, and looked out a moment upon the +boxes in the dim court. Then he came back and stood by Mr. Fletcher, and +put his hand on the desk. + +"Yes, I'll try." + +"Good. When will you begin?" + +"Now." + +"That's good. No time like now. Wait a bit, and I'll show you about the +place before we go to lunch. You'll get hold of the ropes directly." + +This was Mr. Fletcher's veteran joke. + +At three o'clock Mr. Fletcher closed his desk. It was time to take his +train. "Tomorrow, then," he said, "we will begin in earnest." + +"What are the business hours here?" asked Jack. + +"Oh, I am usually here from ten to three, but the business hours are from +nine till the business is done. By-the-way, why not run out with me and +spend the night, and we can talk the thing over?" + +There was no reason why he should not go, and he went. And that was the +way John Corlear Delancy was initiated in the string business in the old +house of Fletcher & Co. + + + + +XXII + +Few battles are decisive, and perhaps least of all those that are won by +a sudden charge or an accident, and not as the result of long-maturing +causes. Doubtless the direction of a character or a career is often +turned by a sudden act of the will or a momentary impotence of the will. +But the battle is not over then, nor without long and arduous fighting, +often a dreary, dragging struggle without the excitement of novelty. + +It was comparatively easy for Jack Delancy in Mr. Fletcher's office to +face about suddenly and say yes to the proposal made him. There was on +him the pressure of necessity, of his own better nature acting under a +sense of his wife's approval; and besides, there was a novelty that +attracted him in trying something absolutely new to his habits. + +But it was one thing to begin, and another, with a man of his +temperament, to continue. To have regular hours, to attend to the +details of a traffic that was to the last degree prosaic, in short, to +settle down to hard work, was a very different thing from the "business" +about which Jack and his fellows at the club used to talk so much, and to +fancy they were engaged in. When the news came to the Union that Delancy +had gone into the house of Fletcher & Co. as a clerk, there was a general +smile, and a languid curiosity expressed as to how long he would stick to +it. + +In the first day or two Jack was sustained not only by the original +impulse, but by a real instinct in learning about business ways and +details that were new to him. To talk about the business and about the +markets, to hear plans unfolded for extension and for taking advantage of +fluctuations in prices, was all very well; but the drudgery of details-- +copying, comparing invoices, and settling into the routine of a clerk's +life, even the life of a confidential clerk--was contrary to the habits +of his whole life. It was not to be expected that these habits would be +overcome without a long struggle and many back-slidings. + +The little matter of being at his office desk at nine o'clock in the +morning began to seem a hardship after the first three or four days. +For Mr. Fletcher not to walk into his shop on the stroke of ten would +have been such a reversal of his habits as to cause him as much annoyance +as it caused Jack to be bound to a fixed hour. It was only the +difference in training. But that is saying everything. + +Besides, while the details of his work, the more he got settled in them, +were not to his taste, he was daily mortified to find himself ignorant of +matters which the stupidest clerk in the office seemed to know by +instinct. This acted, however, as a sort of stimulus, and touched his +pride. He determined that he would not be humiliated in this way, and +during office hours he worked as diligently as Mr. Fletcher could have +desired. He had pledged himself to the trial, and he summoned all his +intelligence to back his effort. + +And it is true that the satisfaction of having a situation, of doing +something, the relief to the previous daily anxiety and almost despair, +raised his spirits. It was only when he thought of the public opinion of +his little world, of some other occupation more befitting his education, +of the vast change from his late life of ease and luxury to this of daily +labor with a clerk's pay, that he had hours of revolt and cursed his +luck. + +No, Jack's battle was not won in a day, or a week, or a year. And before +it was won he needed more help than his own somewhat irresolute will +could give. It is the impression of his biographer that he would have +failed in the end if he had been married to a frivolous and selfish +woman. + +Mr. Fletcher was known as a very strict man of business, and as little +else. But he was a good judge of character, and under his notions of +discipline and of industry he was a kindly man, as his clerks, who feared +his sharp oversight, knew. And besides, he had made a compact with +Edith, for whom he had something more than family affection, and he +watched Jack's efforts to adjust himself to the new life with sympathy. +If it was an experiment for Jack, it was also an experiment for him, +the result of which gave him some anxiety. The situation was not a very +heroic one, but a life is often decided for good or ill by as +insignificant a matter as Jack's ability to persevere in learning about +the twine and cordage trade. This was a day of trial, and the element of +uncertainty in it kept both Mr. Fletcher and Jack from writing of the new +arrangement to Edith, for fear that only disappointment to her would be +the ultimate result. Jack's brief notes to her were therefore, as usual, +indefinite, but with the hint that he was beginning to see a way out of +his embarrassment. + +After the passage of a couple of weeks, during which Mr. Fletcher had +been quietly studying his new clerk, he suddenly said to him, one +Saturday morning, after they had looked over and estimated the orders by +the day's mail, "Jack, I think you'd better let up a little, and run down +and see Edith." + +"Oh!" said Jack, a little startled by the proposal, but recovering +himself; " I didn't suppose the business could spare me." + +"I didn't mean a vacation, but run down for over Sunday. It must be +lovely there, and the change will make you as keen as a brier for +business. It always does me. Stay over Monday if the weather is good. +I have to be away myself the week after." As Jack hesitated and did not +reply, Mr. Fletcher continued: + +"I really think you'd better go, Jack. You have hardly had a breath of +fresh air this summer. There's plenty of time to go up-town and get your +grip and catch the afternoon train." + +Jack was still silent. The thought of seeing Edith created a tumult in +his mind. It seemed as if he were not quite ready, not exactly settled. +He had been procrastinating so long, putting off going, on one pretext or +another, that he had fallen into a sort of fear of going. At first, +absorbed in his speculations, enthralled by the company of Carmen and the +luxurious, easy-going view of life that her society created for him; he +had felt Edith and his house as an irritating restraint. Later, when the +smash came, he had been still more relieved that she was out of town. +And finally he had fallen into a reckless apathy, and had made himself +believe that he never would see her again until some stroke of fortune +should set him on his feet and restore his self-respect. + +But since he had been with Fletcher & Co. his feelings had gradually +undergone a change. With a regular occupation and regular hours, and in +contact with the sensible mind and business routine of Mr. Fletcher, he +began to have saner views of life, and to realize that Edith would +approve what he was now attempting to do much more than any effort to +relieve himself by speculation. + +As soon as he felt himself a little more firmly established, a little +more sure of himself, he would go to Edith, and confess everything, and +begin life anew. This had been his mood, but he was still irresolute, +and it needed some outside suggestion to push him forward to overcome his +lingering reluctance to go home. + +But this had come suddenly. It seemed to him at first thought that he +needed time to prepare for it. Mr. Fletcher pulled out his watch. +"There is a later train at four. Take that, and we will get some lunch +first." + +An hour of postponement was such a relief! Why, of course he could go at +four. And instantly his heart leaped up with desire. + +"All right," he said, as he rose and closed his desk. "But I think I'd +better not stay for lunch. I want to get something for the boy on my way +uptown." + +"Very good. Tuesday, then. My best regards to Edith." + +As Jack came down the stairway from the elevated road at Twenty-third +Street he ran against a man who was hurrying up--a man in a pronounced +traveling-suit, grip-sack and umbrella in hand, and in haste. It was +Mavick. Recognition was instantaneous, and it was impossible for either +to avoid the meeting if he had desired to do so. + +"You in town!" said Mavick. + +"And you!" Jack retorted. + +"No, not really. I'm just going to catch the steamer. Short leave. We +have all been kept by that confounded Chile business." + +"Going for the government?" + +"No, not publicly. Of course shall confer with our minister in London. +Any news here?" + +"Yes; Henderson's dead." And Jack looked Mavick squarely in the face. + +"Ah!" And Mavick smiled faintly, and then said, gravely: "It was an awful +business. So sudden, you know, that I couldn't do anything." He made a +movement to pass on. "I suppose there has been no--no--" + +"I suppose not," said Jack, "except that Mrs. Henderson has gone to +Europe." + +"Ah!" And Mr. Mavick didn't wait for further news, but hurried up, with a +"Good-by." + +So Mavick was following Carmen to Europe. Well, why not? What an unreal +world it all was, that of a few months ago! The gigantic Henderson; +Jack's own vision of a great fortune; Carmen and her house of Nero; the +astute and diplomatic Mavick, with his patronizing airs! It was like a +scene in a play. + +He stepped into a shop and selected a toy for the boy. It was a real +toy, and it was for a real boy. Jack experienced a genuine pleasure at +the thought of pleasing him. Perhaps the little fellow would not know +him. + +And then he thought of Edith--not of Edith the mother, but of Edith the +girl in the days of his wooing. And he went into Maillard's. +The pretty girl at the counter knew him. He was an old customer, and she +had often filled orders for him. She had despatched many a costly box to +addresses he had given her. It was in the recollection of those +transactions that he said: "A box of marrons glaces, please. My wife +prefers that." + +"Shall I send it?" asked the girl, when she had done it up. + +"No, thanks; we are not in town." + +"Of course," she said, beaming upon him; "nobody is yet." + +And this girl also seemed a part of the old life, with her little +affectation of familiarity with its ways. + +He went to his room--it seemed a very mean little room now--packed his +bag, told the janitor he should be absent a few days, and hurried to the +ferry and the train as if he feared that some accident would delay him. +When he was seated and the train moved off, his thoughts took another +turn. He was in for it now. + +He began to regret that he had not delayed, to think it all out more +thoroughly; perhaps it would have been better to have written. + +He bought an evening journal, but he could not read it. What he read +between the lines was his own life. What a miserable failure! What a +mess he had made of his own affairs, and how unworthy of such a woman as +Edith he had been! How indifferent he had been to her happiness in the +pursuit of his own pleasure! How would she receive him? He could hardly +doubt that; but she must know, she must have felt cruelly his +estrangement. What if she met him with a royal forgiveness, as if he +were a returned prodigal? He couldn't stand that. If now he were only +going back with his fortune recovered, with brilliant prospects to spread +before her, and could come into the house in his old playful manner, with +the assumed deference of the master, and say: "Well, Edith dear, the +storm is over. It's all right now. I am awfully glad to get home. +Where's the rascal of an heir?" + +Instead of that, he was going with nothing, humiliated, a clerk in a +twine-store. And not much of a clerk at that, he reflected, with his +ready humorous recognition of the situation. + +And yet he was for the first time in his life earning his living. Edith +would like that. He had known all along that his idle life had been a +constant grief to her. No, she would not reproach him; she never did +reproach him. No doubt she would be glad that he was at work. But, oh, +the humiliation of the whole thing! At one moment he was eager to see +her, and the next the rattling train seemed to move too fast, and he +welcomed every wayside stop that delayed his arrival. But even the Long +Island trains arrive some time, and all too soon the cars slowed up at +the familiar little station, and Jack got out. + +"Quite a stranger in these parts, Mr. Delancy," was the easy salutation +of the station-keeper. + +"Yes. I've been away. All right down here?" + +"Right as a trivet. Hot summer, though. Calculate it's goin' to be a +warm fall--generally is." + +It was near sunset. When the train had moved on, and its pounding on the +rails became a distant roar and then was lost altogether, the country +silence so impressed Jack, as he walked along the road towards the sea, +that he became distinctly conscious of the sound of his own footsteps. +He stopped and listened. Yes, there were other sounds--the twitter of +birds in the bushes by the roadside, the hum of insects, and the faint +rhythmical murmur of lapsing waves on the shore. + +And now the house came in view--first the big roof, and then the latticed +windows, the balconies, where there were pots of flowers, and then the +long veranda with its hammocks and climbing vines. There was a pink tone +in the distant water answering to the flush in the sky, and away to the +west the sand-dune that made out into the Sound was a point of light. + +But the house! Jack's steps were again arrested. The level last rays of +the disappearing sun flashed upon the window-panes so that they glowed +like painted windows illuminated from within, with a reddish lustre, and +the roofs and the brown sides of the building, painted by those great +masters in color, the sun and the sea-wind, in that moment were like +burnished gold. Involuntarily Jack exclaimed: + +"It is the Golden House!" + +He made his way through the little fore yard. No one was about. The +veranda was deserted. There was Edith's work-basket; there were the +baby's playthings. The door stood open, and as he approached it he heard +singing--not singing, either, but a fitful sort of recitation, with the +occasional notes of an accompaniment struck as if in absence of mind. +The tune he knew, and as he passed through the first room towards the +sitting-room that looked on the sea he caught a line: + +"Wely, wely, but love is bonny, for a little while--when it is new." + +It was an old English ballad, the ballad of the "Cockle-shells," that +Edith used to sing often in the old days, when its note of melancholy +seemed best to express her happiness. It was only that line, and the +voice seemed to break, and there was silence. + +He stole along and looked in. There was Edith, seated, her head bowed on +her hands, at the piano. + +In an instant, before she could turn to the sound of his quick footsteps, +he was at her side, kneeling, his head bowed in the folds of her dress. + +"Edith! I've been such a fool!" + +She turned, slid from her seat, and was kneeling also, with her arms +thrown about his neck. + +"Oh, Jack! You've come. Thank God! Thank God!" + +And presently they stood, and his arms were still around her, and she was +looking up into his face, with her hands on his shoulders, and saying +"You've come to stay." + +"Yes, dear, forever." + + + + +XXIV + +The whole landscape was golden, the sea was silver, on that October +morning. It was the brilliant decline of the year. Edith stood with +Jack on the veranda. He had his grip-sack in hand and was equipped for +town. Both were silent in the entrancing scene. + +The birds, twittering in the fruit-trees and over the vines, had the air +of an orchestra, the concerts of the season over, gathering their +instruments and about to depart. One could detect in the lapse of the +waves along the shore the note of weariness preceding the change into the +fretfulness and the tumult of tempests. In the soft ripening of the +season there was peace and hope, but it was the hope of another day. The +curtain was falling on this. + +Was life beginning, then, or ending? If life only could change and renew +itself like the seasons, with the perpetually recurring springs! But +youth comes only once, and thereafter the man gathers the fruit of it, +sweet or bitter. + +Jack was not given to moralizing, but perhaps a subtle suggestion of this +came to him in the thought that an enterprise, a new enterprise, might +have seemed easier in May, when the forces of nature were with him, than +in October. There was something, at least, that fell in with his mood, a +mood of acquiescence in failure, in this closing season of the year, when +he stood empty-handed in the harvest-time. + +"Edith," he said, as they paced down the walk which was flaming with +scarlet and crimson borders, and turned to look at the peaceful brown +house, "I hate to go." + +"But you are not going," said Edith, brightly. "I feel all the time as +if you were just coming back. Jack, do you know," and she put her hand +on his shoulder, "this is the sweetest home in the world now!" + +"It is the only one, dear;" and Jack made the statement with a humorous +sense of its truth. "Well, there's the train, and I'm off with the other +clerks." + +"Clerk, indeed!" cried Edith, putting up her face to his; "you are going +to be a Merchant Prince, Jack, that is what you are going to be." + +On the train there was an atmosphere of business. Jack felt that he was +not going to the New York that he knew--not to his New York, but to a +city of traffic; down into the streets of commercial enterprise, not at +all to the metropolis of leisure, of pleasure, to the world of clubs and +drawing-rooms and elegant loiterings and the rivalries of society life. +That was all ended. Jack was hurrying to catch the down-town car for the +dingy office of Fletcher & Co. at an hour fixed. + +It was ended, to be sure, but the struggle with Jack in his new life was +not ended, his biographer knows, for months and years. + +It was long before he could pass his club windows without a pang of +humiliation, or lift his hat to a lady of his acquaintance in her passing +carriage without a vivid feeling of separateness from his old life. For +the old life--he could see that any day in the Avenue, any evening by the +flaming lights--went by in its gilded chariots and entrancing toilets, +the fascinating whirl of Vanity Fair crowned with roses and with ennui. +Did he regret it? No doubt. Not to regret would have been to change his +nature, and that were a feat impossible for his biographer to accomplish. +In a way his life was gone, and to build up a new life, serene and +enduring, was not the work of a day. + +One thing he did not regret in the shock he had received, and that was +the absence of Carmen and her world. When he thought of her he had a +sense of escape. She was still abroad, and he heard from time to time +that Mavick was philandering about from capital to capital in her train. +Certainly he would have envied neither of them if he had been aware, as +the reader is aware, of the guilty secret that drew them together and +must be forever their torment. They knew each other. + +But this glittering world, to attain a place in which is the object of +most of the struggles and hungry competition of modern life, seemed not +so real nor so desirable when he was at home with Edith, and in his +gradually growing interest in nobler pursuits. They had decided to take +a modest apartment in town for the winter, and almost before the lease +was signed, Edith, in her mind, had transformed it into a charming home. +Jack used to rally her on her enthusiasm in its simple furnishing; it +reminded him, he said, of Carmen's interest in her projected house of +Nero. It was a great contrast, to be sure, to their stately house by the +Park, but it was to them both what that had never been. To one who knows +how life goes astray in the solicitations of the great world, there was +something pathetic in Edith's pleasure. Even to Jack it might some day +come with the force of keen regret for years wasted, that it is enough to +break a body's heart to see how little a thing can make a woman happy. + +It was another summer. Major Fairfax had come down with Jack to spend +Sunday at the Golden House. Edith was showing the Major the view from +the end of the veranda. Jack was running through the evening paper. +"Hi!" he cried; "here's news. Mavick is to have the mission to Rome, and +it is rumored that the rich and accomplished Mrs. Henderson, as the wife +of the minister, will make the Roman season very gay." + +"It's too bad," said Edith. "Nothing is said about the training-school?" + +"Nothing." "Poor Henderson!" was the Major's comment. "It was for this +that he drudged and schemed and heaped up his colossal fortune! His life +must look to him like a burlesque." + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Golden House +by Charles Dudley Warner + diff --git a/old/cwgld10.zip b/old/cwgld10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..20598da --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwgld10.zip diff --git a/old/cwgld11.txt b/old/cwgld11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d97c8c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwgld11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8721 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Golden House by Charles Dudley Warner +#8 in our series by Charles Dudley Warner + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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The hour, the place, +the anticipation of the lifting of the veil from an Oriental and ancient +art, gave them a titillating feeling of adventure, of a moral hazard +bravely incurred in the duty of knowing life, penetrating to its core. +Opportunity for this sort of fruitful experience being rare outside the +metropolis, students of good and evil had made the pilgrimage to this +midnight occasion from less-favored cities. Recondite scholars in the +physical beauty of the Greeks, from Boston, were there; fair women from +Washington, whose charms make the reputation of many a newspaper +correspondent; spirited stars of official and diplomatic life, who have +moments of longing to shine in some more languorous material paradise, +had made a hasty flitting to be present at the ceremony, sustained by a +slight feeling of bravado in making this exceptional descent. But the +favored hundred spectators were mainly from the city-groups of late +diners, who fluttered in under that pleasurable glow which the red +Jacqueminot always gets from contiguity with the pale yellow Clicquot; +theatre parties, a little jaded, and quite ready for something real and +stimulating; men from the clubs and men from studios--representatives of +society and of art graciously mingled, since it is discovered that it is +easier to make art fashionable than to make fashion artistic. + +The vast, dimly lighted apartment was itself mysterious, a temple of +luxury quite as much as of art. Shadows lurked in the corners, the ribs +of the roof were faintly outlined; on the sombre walls gleams of color, +faces of loveliness and faces of pain, studies all of a mood or a +passion, bits of shining brass, reflections from lustred ware struggling +out of obscurity; hangings from Fez or Tetuan, bits of embroidery, +costumes in silk and in velvet, still having the aroma of balls a hundred +years ago, the faint perfume of a scented society of ladies and gallants; +a skeleton scarcely less fantastic than the draped wooden model near it; +heavy rugs of Daghestan and Persia, making the footfalls soundless on the +floor; a fountain tinkling in a thicket of japonicas and azaleas; the +stems of palmettoes, with their branches waving in the obscurity +overhead; points of light here and there where a shaded lamp shone on a +single red rose in a blue Granada vase on a toppling stand, or on a mass +of jonquils in a barbarous pot of Chanak-Kallessi; tacked here and there +on walls and hangings, colored memoranda of Capri and of the North Woods, +the armor of knights, trophies of small-arms, crossed swords of the Union +and the Confederacy, easels, paints, and palettes, and rows of canvases +leaning against the wall-the studied litter, in short, of a successful +artist, whose surroundings contribute to the popular conception of his +genius. + +On the wall at one end of the apartment was stretched a white canvas; in +front of it was left a small cleared space, on the edge of which, in the +shadow, squatting on the floor, were four swarthy musicians in Oriental +garments, with a mandolin, a guitar, a ney, and a darabooka drum. About +this cleared space, in a crescent, knelt or sat upon the rugs a couple of +rows of men in evening dress; behind them, seated in chairs, a group of +ladies, whose white shoulders and arms and animated faces flashed out in +the semi-obscurity; and in their rear stood a crowd of spectators-- +beautiful young gentlemen with vacant faces and the elevated Oxford +shoulders, rosy youth already blase to all this world can offer, and +gray-headed men young again in the prospect of a new sensation. So they +kneel or stand, worshipers before the shrine, expecting the advent of the +Goddess of AEsthetic Culture. + +The moment has come. There is a tap on the drum, a tuning of the +strings, a flash of light from the rear of the room inundates the white +canvas, and suddenly a figure is poised in the space, her shadow cast +upon the glowing background. + +It is the Spanish dancer! + +The apparition evokes a flutter of applause. It is a superb figure, clad +in a high tight bodice and long skirts simply draped so as to show every +motion of the athletic limbs. She seems, in this pose and light, +supernaturally tall. Through her parted lips white teeth gleam, and she +smiles. Is it a smile of anticipated, triumph, or of contempt? Is it +the smile of the daughter of Herodias, or the invitation of a +'ghazeeyeh'? She pauses. Shall she surprise, or shock, or only please? +What shall the art that is older than the pyramids do for these kneeling +Christians? The drum taps, the ney pipes, the mandolin twangs, her arms +are extended--the castanets clink, a foot is thrust out, the bosom +heaves, the waist trembles. What shall it be--the old serpent dance of +the Nile, or the posturing of decorous courtship when the olives are +purple in the time of the grape harvest? Her head, wreathed with coils +of black hair, a red rose behind the left ear, is thrown back. The eyes +flash, there is a snakelike movement of the limbs, the music hastens +slowly in unison with the quickening pulse, the body palpitates, seems to +flash invitation like the eyes, it turns, it twists, the neck is thrust +forward, it is drawn in, while the limbs move still slowly, tentatively; +suddenly the body from the waist up seems to twist round, with the waist +as a pivot, in a flash of athletic vigor, the music quickens, the arms +move more rapidly to the click of the heated castenets, the steps are +more pronounced, the whole woman is agitated, bounding, pulsing with +physical excitement. It is a Maenad in an access of gymnastic energy. +Yes, it is gymnastics; it is not grace; it is scarcely alluring. Yet it +is a physical triumph. While the spectators are breathless, the fury +ceases, the music dies, and the Spaniard sinks into a chair, panting with +triumph, and inclines her dark head to the clapping of hands and the +bravos. The kneelers rise; the spectators break into chattering groups; +the ladies look at the dancer with curious eyes; a young gentleman with +the elevated Oxford shoulders leans upon the arm of her chair and fans +her. The pose is correct; it is the somewhat awkward tribute of culture +to physical beauty. + +To be on speaking terms with the phenomenon was for the moment a +distinction. The young ladies wondered if it would be proper to go +forward and talk with her. + +"Why not?" said a wit. "The Duke of Donnycastle always shakes hands with +the pugilists at a mill." + +"It is not so bad"--the speaker was a Washington beauty in an evening +dress that she would have condemned as indecorous for the dancer it is +not so bad as I--" + +"Expected?" asked her companion, a sedate man of thirty-five, with the +cynical air of a student of life. + +"As I feared," she added, quickly. "I have always had a curiosity to +know what these Oriental dances mean." + +"Oh, nothing in particular, now. This was an exhibition dance. Of +course its origin, like all dancing, was religious. The fault I find +with it is that it lacks seriousness, like the modern exhibition of the +dancing dervishes for money." + +"Do you think, Mr. Mavick, that the decay of dancing is the reason our +religion lacks seriousness? We are in Lent now, you know. Does this +seem to you a Lenten performance?" + +"Why, yes, to a degree. Anything that keeps you up till three o'clock in +the morning has some penitential quality." + +"You give me a new view, Mr. Mavick. I confess that I did not expect to +assist at what New Englanders call an 'evening meeting.' I thought Eros +was the deity of the dance." + +"That, Mrs. Lamon, is a vulgar error. It is an ancient form of worship. +Virtue and beauty are the same thing--the two graces." + +"What a nice apothegm! It makes religion so easy and agreeable." + +"As easy as gravitation." + +"Dear me, Mr. Mavick, I thought this was a question of levitation. You +are upsetting all my ideas. I shall not have the comfort of repenting of +this episode in Lent." + +"Oh yes; you can be sorry that the dancing was not more alluring." + +Meantime there was heard the popping of corks. Venetian glasses filled +with champagne were quaffed under the blessing of sparkling eyes, young +girls, almond-eyed for the occasion, in the costume of Tokyo, handed +round ices, and the hum of accelerated conversation filled the studio. + +"And your wife didn't come?" + +"Wouldn't," replied Jack Delancy, with a little bow, before he raised his +glass. And then added, "Her taste isn't for this sort of thing." + +The girl, already flushed with the wine, blushed a little--Jack thought +he had never seen her look so dazzlingly handsome--as she said, "And you +think mine is?" + +"Bless me, no, I didn't mean that; that is, you know"--Jack didn't +exactly see his way out of the dilemma--"Edith is a little old-fashioned; +but what's the harm in this, anyway?" + +"I did not say there was any," she replied, with a smile at his +embarrassment. "Only I think there are half a dozen women in the room +who could do it better, with a little practice. It isn't as Oriental as +I thought it would be." + +"I cannot say as to that. I know Edith thinks I've gone into the depths +of the Orient. But, on the whole, I'm glad--" Jack stopped on the verge +of speaking out of his better nature. + +"Now don't be rude again. I quite understand that she is not here." + +The dialogue was cut short by a clapping of hands. The spectators took +their places again, the lights were lowered, the illumination was turned +on the white canvas, and the dancer, warmed with wine and adulation, took +a bolder pose, and, as her limbs began to move, sang a wild Moorish +melody in a shrill voice, action and words flowing together into the +passion of the daughter of tents in a desert life. It was all vigorous, +suggestive, more properly religious, Mavick would have said, and the +applause was vociferous. + +More wine went about. There was another dance, and then another, a slow +languid movement, half melancholy and full of sorrow, if one might say +that of a movement, for unrepented sin; a gypsy dance this, accompanied +by the mournful song of Boabdil, "The Last Sigh of the Moor." And +suddenly, when the feelings of the spectators were melted to tender +regret, a flash out of all this into a joyous defiance, a wooing of +pleasure with smiling lips and swift feet, with the clash of cymbals and +the quickened throb of the drum. And so an end with the dawn of a new +day. + +It was not yet dawn, however, for the clocks were only striking three as +the assembly, in winter coats and soft wraps, fluttered out to its +carriages, chattering and laughing, with endless good-nights in the +languages of France, Germany, and Spain. + +The streets were as nearly deserted as they ever are; here and there a +lumbering market-wagon from Jersey, an occasional street-car with its +tinkling bell, rarer still the rush of a trembling train on the elevated, +the voice of a belated reveler, a flitting female figure at a street +corner, the roll of a livery hack over the ragged pavement. But mainly +the noise of the town was hushed, and in the sharp air the stars, far off +and uncontaminated, glowed with a pure lustre. + +Farther up town it was quite still, and in one of the noble houses in the +neighborhood of the Park sat Edith Delancy, married not quite a year, +listening for the roll of wheels and the click of a night-key. + + + + +II + +Everybody liked John Corlear Delancy, and this in spite of himself, for +no one ever knew him to make any effort to incur either love or hate. +The handsome boy was a favorite without lifting his eyebrows, and he +sauntered through the university, picking his easy way along an elective +course, winning the affectionate regard of every one with whom he came in +contact. And this was not because he lacked quality, or was merely easy- +going and negative or effeminate, for the same thing happened to him when +he went shooting in the summer in the Rockies. The cowboys and the +severe moralists of the plains, whose sedate business in life is to get +the drop on offensive persons, regarded him as a brother. It isn't a bad +test of personal quality, this power to win the loyalty of men who have +few or none of the conventional virtues. These non-moral enforcers of +justice--as they understood it liked Jack exactly as his friends in the +New York clubs liked him--and perhaps the moral standard of approval of +the one was as good as the other. + +Jack was a very good shot and a fair rider, and in the climate of England +he might have taken first-rate rank in athletics. But he had never taken +first-rate rank in anything, except good-fellowship. He had a great many +expensive tastes, which he could not afford to indulge, except in +imagination. The luxury of a racing-stable, or a yacht, or a library of +scarce books bound by Paris craftsmen was denied him. Those who account +for failures in life by a man's circumstances, and not by a lack in the +man himself, which is always the secret of failure, said that Jack was +unfortunate in coming into a certain income of twenty thousand a year. +This was just enough to paralyze effort, and not enough to permit a man +to expand in any direction. It is true that he was related to millions +and moved in a millionaire atmosphere, but these millions might never +flow into his bank account. They were not in hand to use, and they also +helped to paralyze effort--like black clouds of an impending shower that +may pass around, but meantime keeps the watcher indoors. + +The best thing that Jack Delancy ever did, for himself, was to marry +Edith Fletcher. The wedding, which took place some eight months before +the advent of the Spanish dancer, was a surprise to many, for the girl +had even less fortune than Jack, and though in and of his society +entirely, was supposed to have ideals. Her family, indeed, was an old +one on the island, and was prominent long before the building of the +stone bridge on Canal Street over the outlet of Collect Pond. Those who +knew Edith well detected in her that strain of moral earnestness which +made the old Fletchers such stanch and trusty citizens. The wonder was +not that Jack, with his easy susceptibility to refined beauty, should +have been attracted to her, or have responded to a true instinct of what +was best for him, but that Edith should have taken up with such a perfect +type of the aimlessness of the society strata of modern life. The +wonder, however, was based upon a shallow conception of the nature of +woman. It would have been more wonderful if the qualities that endeared +Jack to college friends and club men, to the mighty sportsmen who do not +hesitate, in the clubs, to devastate Canada and the United States of big +game, and to the border ruffians of Dakota, should not have gone straight +to the tender heart of a woman of ideals. And when in all history was +there a woman who did not believe, when her heart went with respect for +certain manly traits, that she could inspire and lift a man into a noble +life? + +The silver clock in the breakfast-room was striking ten, and Edith was +already seated at the coffee-urn, when Jack appeared. She was as fresh +as a rose, and greeted him with a bright smile as he came behind her +chair and bent over for the morning kiss--a ceremony of affection which, +if omitted, would have left a cloud on the day for both of them, and +which Jack always declared was simply a necessity, or the coffee would +have no flavor. But when a man has picked a rose, it is always a sort of +climax which is followed by an awkward moment, and Jack sat down with the +air of a man who has another day to get through with. + +"Were you amused with the dancing--this morning?" + +"So, so," said Jack, sipping his coffee. "It was a stunning place for +it, that studio; you'd have liked that. The Lamons and Mavick and a lot +of people from the provinces were there. The company was more fun than +the dance, especially to a fellow who has seen how good it can be and how +bad in its home." + +"You have a chance to see the Spanish dancer again, under proper +auspices," said Edith, without looking up. + +"How's that?" + +"We are invited by Mrs. Brown--" + +"The mother of the Bible class at St. Philip's?" + +"Yes--to attend a charity performance for the benefit of the Female +Waifs' Refuge. She is to dance." + +"Who? Mrs. Brown?" + +Edith paid no attention to this impertinence. "They are to make an +artificial evening at eleven o'clock in the morning." + +"They must have got hold of Mavick's notion that this dance is religious +in its origin. Do you, know if the exercises will open with prayer?" + +"Nonsense, Jack. You know I don't intend to go. I shall send a small +check." + +"Well, draw it mild. But isn't this what I'm accused of doing--shirking +my duty of personal service by a contribution?" + +"Perhaps. But you didn't have any of that shirking feeling last night, +did you?" + +Jack laughed, and ran round to give the only reply possible to such a +gibe. These breakfast interludes had not lost piquancy in all these +months. "I'm half a mind to go to this thing. I would, if it didn't +break up my day so." + +"As for instance?" + +"Well, this morning I have to go up to the riding-school to see a horse-- +Storm; I want to try him. And then I have to go down to Twist's and see +a lot of Japanese drawings he's got over. Do you know that the birds and +other animals those beggars have been drawing, which we thought were +caricatures, are the real thing? They have eyes sharp enough to see +things in motion--flying birds and moving horses which we never caught +till we put the camera on them. Awfully curious. Then I shall step into +the club a minute, and--" + +"Be in at lunch? Bess is coming." + +"Don't wait lunch. I've a lot to do." + +Edith followed him with her eyes, a little wistfully; she heard the outer +door close, and still sat at the table, turning over the pile of notes at +her plate, and thinking of many things--things that it began to dawn upon +her mind could not be done, and things of immediate urgency that must be +done. Life did not seem quite such a simple problem to her as it had +looked a year ago. That there is nothing like experiment to clear the +vision is the general idea, but oftener it is experience that perplexes. +Indeed, Edith was thinking that some things seemed much easier to her +before she had tried them. + +As she sat at the table with a faultless morning-gown, with a bunch of +English violets in her bosom, an artist could have desired no better +subject. Many people thought her eyes her best feature; they were large +brown eyes, yet not always brown, green at times, liquid, but never +uncertain, apt to have a smile in them, yet their chief appealing +characteristic was trustfulness, a pure sort of steadfastness, that +always conveyed the impression of a womanly personal interest in the +person upon whom they were fixed. They were eyes that haunted one like a +remembered strain of music. The lips were full, and the mouth was drawn +in such exquisite lines that it needed the clear-cut and emphasized chin +to give firmness to its beauty. The broad forehead, with arching +eyebrows, gave an intellectual cast to a face the special stamp of which +was purity. The nose, with thin open nostrils, a little too strong for +beauty, together with the chin, gave the impression of firmness and +courage; but the wonderful eyes, the inviting mouth, so modified this +that the total impression was that of high spirit and great sweetness of +character. It was the sort of face from which one might expect +passionate love or unflinching martyrdom. Her voice had a quality the +memory of which lingered longer even than the expression of her eyes; it +was low, and, as one might say, a fruity voice, not quite clear, though +sweet, as if veiled in femineity. This note of royal womanhood was also +in her figure, a little more than medium in height, and full of natural +grace. Somehow Edith, with all these good points, had not the reputation +of a belle or a beauty--perhaps for want of some artificial splendor--but +one could not be long in her company without feeling that she had great +charm, without which beauty becomes insipid and even commonplace, and +with which the plainest woman is attractive. + +Edith's theory of life, if one may so dignify the longings of a young +girl, had been very simple, and not at all such as would be selected by +the heroine of a romance. She had no mission, nor was she afflicted by +that modern form of altruism which is a yearning for notoriety by +conspicuous devotion to causes and reforms quite outside her normal +sphere of activity. A very sincere person, with strong sympathy for +humanity tempered by a keen perception of the humorous side of things, +she had a purpose, perhaps not exactly formulated, of making the most out +of her own life, not in any outward and shining career, but by a +development of herself in the most helpful and harmonious relations to +her world. And it seemed to her, though she had never philosophized it, +that a marriage such as she believed she had made was the woman's way to +the greatest happiness and usefulness. In this she followed the dictates +of a clear mind and a warm heart. If she had reasoned about it, +considering how brief life is, and how small can be any single +contribution to a better social condition, she might have felt more +strongly the struggle against nature, and the false position involved in +the new idea that marriage is only a kind of occupation, instead of an +ordinance decreed in the very constitution of the human race. With the +mere instinct of femineity she saw the falseness of the assumption that +the higher life for man or woman lies in separate and solitary paths +through the wilderness of this world. To an intelligent angel, seated on +the arch of the heavens, the spectacle of the latter-day pseudo- +philosophic and economic dribble about the doubtful expediency of having +a wife, and the failure of marriage, must seem as ludicrous as would a +convention of birds or of flowers reasoning that the processes of nature +had continued long enough. Edith was simply a natural woman, who felt +rather than reasoned that in a marriage such as her heart approved she +should make the most of her life. + +But as she sat here this morning this did not seem to be so simple a +matter as it had appeared. It began to be suspected that in order to +make the most of one's self it was necessary to make the most of many +other persons and things. The stream in its own channel flowed along not +without vexations, friction and foaming and dashings from bank to bank; +but it became quite another and a more difficult movement when it was +joined to another stream, with its own currents and eddies and +impetuosities and sluggishness, constantly liable to be deflected if not +put altogether on another course. Edith was not putting it in this form +as she turned over her notes of invitation and appointments and +engagements, but simply wondering where the time for her life was to come +in, and for Jack's life, which occupied a much larger space than it +seemed to occupy in the days before it was joined to hers. Very curious +this discovery of what another's life really is. Of course the society +life must go on, that had always gone on, for what purpose no one could +tell, only it was the accepted way of disposing of time; and now there +were the dozen ways in which she was solicited to show her interest in +those supposed to be less fortunate in life than herself-the alleviation +of the miseries of her own city. And with society, and charity, and +sympathy with the working classes, and her own reading, and a little +drawing and painting, for which she had some talent, what became of that +comradeship with Jack, that union of interests and affections, which was +to make her life altogether so high and sweet? + +This reverie, which did not last many minutes, and was interrupted by the +abrupt moving away of Edith to the writing-desk in her own room, was +caused by a moment's vivid realization of what Jack's interests in life +were. Could she possibly make them her own? And if she did, what would +become of her own ideals? + + + + +III + +It was indeed a busy day for Jack. Great injustice would be done him if +it were supposed that he did not take himself and his occupations +seriously. His mind was not disturbed by trifles. He knew that he had +on the right sort of four-in-hand necktie, with the appropriate pin of +pear-shaped pearl, and that he carried the cane of the season. These +things come by a sort of social instinct, are in the air, as it were, and +do not much tax the mind. He had to hasten a little to keep his half- +past-eleven o'clock appointment at Stalker's stables, and when he arrived +several men of his set were already waiting, who were also busy men, and +had made a little effort to come round early and assist Jack in making up +his mind about the horse. + +When Mr. Stalker brought out Storm, and led him around to show his +action, the connoisseurs took on a critical attitude, an attitude of +judgment, exhibited not less in the poise of the head and the serious +face than in the holding of the cane and the planting of legs wide apart. +And the attitude had a refined nonchalance which professional horsemen +scarcely ever attain. Storm could not have received more critical and +serious attention if he had been a cooked terrapin. He could afford to +stand this scrutiny, and he seemed to move about with the consciousness +that he knew more about being a horse than his judges. + +Storm was, in fact, a splendid animal, instinct with life from his thin +flaring nostril to his small hoof; black as a raven, his highly groomed +skin took the polish of ebony, and showed the play of his powerful +muscles, and, one might say, almost the nervous currents that thrilled +his fine texture. His large, bold eyes, though not wicked, flamed now +and then with an energy and excitement that gave ample notice that he +would obey no master who had not stronger will and nerve than his own. +It was a tribute to Jack's manliness that, when he mounted him for a turn +in the ring, Storm seemed to recognize the fine quality of both seat and +hand, and appeared willing to take him on probation. + +"He's got good points," said Mr. Herbert Albert Flick, "but I'd like a +straighter back." + +"I'll be hanged, though, Jack," was Mr. Mowbray Russell's comment, "if +I'd ride him in the Park before he's docked. Say what you like about +action, a horse has got to have style." + +"Moves easy, falls off a little too much to suit me in the quarter," +suggested Mr. Pennington Docstater, sucking the head of his cane. +"How about his staying quality, Stalker?" + +"That's just where he is, Mr. Docstater; take him on the road, he's a +stayer for all day. Goes like a bird. He'll take you along at the rate +of nine miles in forty-five minutes as long as you want to sit there." + +"Jump?" queried little Bobby Simerton, whose strong suit at the club was +talking about meets and hunters. + +"Never refused anything I put him at," replied Stalker; "takes every +fence as if it was the regular thing." + +Storm was in this way entirely taken to pieces, praised and disparaged, +in a way to give Stalker, it might be inferred from his manner, a high +opinion of the knowledge of these young gentlemen. "It takes a +gentleman," in fact, Stalker said, "to judge a hoss, for a good hoss is a +gentleman himself." It was much discussed whether Storm would do better +for the Park or for the country, whether it would be better to put him in +the field or keep him for a roadster. It might, indeed, be inferred that +Jack had not made up his mind whether he should buy a horse for use in +the Park or for country riding. Even more than this might be inferred +from the long morning's work, and that was that while Jack's occupation +was to buy a horse, if he should buy one his occupation would be gone. +He was known at the club to be looking for the right sort of a horse, and +that he knew what he wanted, and was not easily satisfied; and as long as +he occupied this position he was an object of interest to sellers and to +his companions. + +Perhaps Mr. Stalker understood this, for when the buyers had gone he +remarked to the stable-boy, "Mr. Delancy, he don't want to buy no hoss." + +When the inspection of the horse was finished it was time for lunch, and +the labors of the morning were felt to justify this indulgence, though +each of the party had other engagements, and was too busy to waste the +time. They went down to the Knickerbocker. + +The lunch was slight, but its ordering took time and consideration, as it +ought, for nothing is so destructive of health and mental tone as the +snatching of a mid-day meal at a lunch counter from a bill of fare +prepared by God knows whom. Mr. Russell said that if it took time to buy +a horse, it ought to take at least equal time and care to select the +fodder that was to make a human being wretched or happy. Indeed, a man +who didn't give his mind to what he ate wouldn't have any mind by-and-by +to give to anything. This sentiment had the assent of the table, and was +illustrated by varied personal experience; and a deep feeling prevailed, +a serious feeling, that in ordering and eating the right sort of lunch a +chief duty of a useful day had been discharged. + +It must not be imagined from this, however, that the conversation was +about trifles. Business men and operators could have learned something +about stocks and investments, and politicians about city politics. +Mademoiselle Vivienne, the new skirt dancer, might have been surprised at +the intimate tone in which she was alluded to, but she could have got +some useful hints in effects, for her judges were cosmopolitans who had +seen the most suggestive dancing in all parts of the world. It came out +incidentally that every one at table had been "over" in the course of the +season, not for any general purpose, not as a sightseer, but to look at +somebody's stables, or to attend a wedding, or a sale of etchings, or to +see his bootmaker, or for a little shooting in Scotland, just as one +might run down to Bar Harbor or Tuxedo. It was only an incident in a +busy season; and one of the fruits of it appeared to be as perfect a +knowledge of the comparative merits of all the ocean racers and captains +as of the English and American stables and the trainers. One not +informed of the progress of American life might have been surprised to +see that the fad is to be American, with a sort of patronage of things +and ways foreign, especially of things British, a large continental kind +of attitude, begotten of hearing much about Western roughing it, of +Alaska, of horse-breeding and fruit-raising on the Pacific, of the +Colorado River Canon. As for stuffs, well yes, London. As for style, +you can't mistake a man who is dressed in New York. + +The wine was a white Riesling from California. Docstater said his +attention had been called to it by Tom Dillingham at the Union, who had a +ranch somewhere out there. It was declared to be sound and palatable; +you know what you are drinking. This led to a learned discussion of the +future of American wines, and a patriotic impulse was given to the trade +by repeated orders. It was declared that in American wines lay the +solution of the temperance question. Bobby Simerton said that Burgundy +was good enough for him, but Russell put him down, as he saw the light +yellow through his glass, by the emphatic affirmation that plenty of +cheap American well-made wine would knock the bottom out of all the +sentimental temperance societies and shut up the saloons, dry up all +those not limited to light wines and beer. It was agreed that the +saloons would have to go. + +This satisfactory conclusion was reached before the coffee came on and +the cigarettes, and the sound quality of the Riesling was emphasized by a +pony of cognac. + +It is fortunate when the youth of a country have an ideal. No nation is +truly great without a common ideal, capable of evoking enthusiasm and +calling out its energies. And where are we to look for this if not in +the youth, and especially in those to whom fortune and leisure give an +opportunity of leadership? It is they who can inspire by their example, +and by their pursuits attract others to a higher conception of the +national life. It may take the form of patriotism, as in this country, +pride in the great republic, jealousy of its honor and credit, eagerness +for its commanding position among the nations, patriotism which will show +itself, in all the ardor of believing youth, in the administration of +law, in the purity of politics, in honest local government, and in a +noble aspiration for the glory of the country. It may take the form of +culture, of a desire that the republic-liable, like all self-made +nations, to worship wealth-should be distinguished not so much by a +vulgar national display as by an advance in the arts, the sciences, the +education that adorns life, in the noble spirit of humanity, and in the +nobler spirit of recognition of a higher life, which will be content with +no civilization that does not tend to make the country for every citizen +a better place to live in today than it was yesterday. Happy is the +country, happy the metropolis of that country, whose fortunate young men +have this high conception of citizenship! + +What is the ideal of their country which these young men cherish? There +was a moment--was there not for them?--in the late war for the Union, +when the republic was visible to them in its beauty, in its peril, and in +a passion of devotion they were eager--were they not?--to follow the flag +and to give their brief lives to its imperishable glory. Nothing is +impossible to a nation with an ideal like that. It was this flame that +ran over Europe in the struggle of France against a world in arms. It +was this national ideal that was incarnate in Napoleon, as every great +idea that moves the world is sooner or later incarnated. What was it +that we saw in Washington on his knees at Valley Forge, or blazing with +wrath at the cowardice on Monmouth? in Lincoln entering Richmond with +bowed head and infinite sorrow and yearning in his heart? An embodiment +of a great national idea and destiny. + +In France this ideal burns yet like a flame, and is still evoked by a +name. It is the passion of glory, but the desire of a nation, and +Napoleon was the incarnation of passion. They say that he is not dead as +others are dead, but that he may come again and ride at the head of his +legions, and strike down the enemies of France; that his bugle will call +the youth from every hamlet, that the roll of his drum will transform +France into a camp, and the grenadiers will live again and ride with him, +amid hurrahs, and streaming tears, and shouts of "My Emperor! Oh, my +Emperor!" Is it only a legend? But the spirit is there; not a boy but +dreams of it, not a girl but knots the thought in with her holiday +tricolor. That is to have an abiding ideal, and patiently to hold it, in +isolation, in defeat, even in an overripe civilization. + +We believe--do we not?--in other triumphs than those of the drum and the +sword. Our aspirations for the republic are for a nobler example of +human society than the world has yet seen. Happy is the country, and the +metropolis of the country, whose youth, gilded only by their virtues, +have these aspirations. + +When the party broke up, the street lamps were beginning to twinkle here +and there, and Jack discovered to his surprise that the Twiss business +would have to go over to another day. It was such a hurrying life in New +York. There was just time for a cup of tea at Mrs. Trafton's. Everybody +dropped in there after five o'clock, when the duties of the day were +over, with the latest news, and to catch breath before rushing into the +program of the evening. + +There were a dozen ladies in the drawing-room when Jack entered, and his +first impression was that the scream of conversation would be harder to +talk against than a Wagner opera; but he presently got his cup of tea, +and found a snug seat in the chimney-corner by Miss Tavish; indeed, they +moved to it together, and so got a little out of the babel. Jack thought +the girl looked even prettier in her walking-dress than when he saw her +at the studio; she had style, there was no doubt about that; and then, +while there was no invitation in her manner, one felt that she was a +woman to whom one could easily say things, and who was liable at any +moment to say things interesting herself. + +"Is this your first appearance since last night, Mr. Delancy?" + +"Oh no; I've been racing about on errands all day. It is very restful to +sit down by a calm person." + +"Well, I never shut my eyes till nine o'clock. I kept seeing that +Spanish woman whirl around and contort, and--do you mind my telling you? +--I couldn't just help it, I" (leaning forward to Jack) "got up and tried +it before the glass. There! Are you shocked?" + +"Not so much shocked as excluded," Jack dared to say. "But do you +think--". + +"Yes, I know. There isn't anything that an American girl cannot do. +I've made up my mind to try it. You'll see." + +"Will I?" + +"No, you won't. Don't flatter yourself. Only girls. I don't want men +around." + +"Neither do I," said Jack, honestly. + +Miss Tavish laughed. "You are too forward, Mr. Delancy. Perhaps some +time, when we have learned, we will let in a few of you, to look in at +the door, fifty dollars a ticket, for some charity. I don't see why +dancing isn't just as good an accomplishment as playing the harp in a +Greek dress." + +"Nor do I; I'd rather see it. Besides, you've got Scripture warrant for +dancing off the heads of people. And then it is such a sweet way of +doing a charity. Dancing for the East Side is the best thing I have +heard yet." + +"You needn't mock. You won't when you find out what it costs you." + +"What are you two plotting?" asked Mrs. Trafton, coming across to the +fireplace. + +"Charity," said Jack, meekly. + +"Your wife was here this morning to get me to go and see some of her +friends in Hester Street." + +"You went?" + +"Not today. It's awfully interesting, but I've been." + +"Edith seems to be devoted to that sort of thing," remarked Miss Tavish. + +"Yes," said Jack, slowly, "she's got the idea that sympathy is better +than money; she says she wants to try to understand other people's +lives." + +"Goodness knows, I'd like to understand my own." + +"And were you trying, Mr. Delancy, to persuade Miss Tavish into that sort +of charity?" + +"Oh dear, no," said Jack; "I was trying to interest the East End in +something, for the benefit of Miss Tavish." + +"You'll find that's one of the most expensive remarks you ever made," +retorted Miss Tavish, rising to go. + +"I wish Lily Tavish would marry," said Mrs. Trafton, watching the girl's +slender figure as it passed through the portiere; "she doesn't know what +to do with herself." + +Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Yes, she'd be a lovely wife for somebody; +"and then he added, as if reminiscently, "if he could afford it. Good- +by." + +"That's just a fashion of talking. I never knew a time when so many +people afforded to do what they wanted to do. But you men are all alike. +Good-by." + +When Jack reached home it was only a little after six o'clock, and as +they were not to go out to dine till eight, he had a good hour to rest +from the fatigues of the day, and run over the evening papers and dip +into the foreign periodicals to catch a topic or two for the dinner- +table. + +"Yes, sir," said the maid, "Mrs. Delancy came in an hour ago." + + + + +IV + +Edith's day had been as busy as Jack's, notwithstanding she had put aside +several things that demanded her attention. She denied herself the +morning attendance on the Literature Class that was raking over the +eighteenth century. This week Swift was to be arraigned. The last time +when Edith was present it was Steele. The judgment, on the whole, had +been favorable, and there had been a little stir of tenderness among the +bonnets over Thackeray's comments on the Christian soldier. It seemed to +bring him near to them. "Poor Dick Steele!" said the essayist. Edith +declared afterwards that the large woman who sat next to her, Mrs. Jerry +Hollowell, whispered to her that she always thought his name was +Bessemer; but this was, no doubt, a pleasantry. It was a beautiful +essay, and so stimulating! And then there was bouillon, and time to look +about at the toilets. Poor Steele, it would have cheered his life to +know that a century after his death so many beautiful women, so +exquisitely dressed, would have been concerning themselves about him. +The function lasted two hours. Edith made a little calculation. In five +minutes she could have got from the encyclopaedia all the facts in the +essay, and while her maid was doing her hair she could have read five +times as much of Steele as the essayist read. And, somehow, she was not +stimulated, for the impression seemed to prevail that now Steele was +disposed of. And she had her doubts whether literature would, after all, +prove to be a permanent social distraction. But Edith may have been too +severe in her judgment. There was probably not a woman in the class that +day who did not go away with the knowledge that Steele was an author, and +that he lived in the eighteenth century. The hope for the country is in +the diffusion of knowledge. + +Leaving the class to take care of Swift, Edith went to the managers' +meeting at the Women's Hospital, where there was much to do of very +practical work, pitiful cases of women and children suffering through no +fault of their own, and money more difficult to raise than sympathy. +The meeting took time and thought. Dismissing her carriage, and relying +on elevated and surface cars, Edith then took a turn on the East Side, +in company with a dispensary physician whose daily duty called her into +the worst parts of the town. She had a habit of these tours before her +marriage, and, though they were discouragingly small in direct results, +she gained a knowledge of city life that was of immense service in her +general charity work. Jack had suggested the danger of these excursions, +but she had told him that a woman was less liable to insult in the East +Side than in Fifth Avenue, especially at twilight, not because the East +Side was a nice quarter of the city, but because it was accustomed to see +women who minded their own business go about unattended, and the prowlers +had not the habit of going there. She could even relate cases of +chivalrous protection of "ladies" in some of the worst streets. + +What Edith saw this day, open to be seen, was not so much sin as +ignorance of how to live, squalor, filthy surroundings acquiesced in as +the natural order, wonderful patience in suffering and deprivation, +incapacity, ill-paid labor, the kindest spirit of sympathy and +helpfulness of the poor for each other. Perhaps that which made the +deepest impression on her was the fact that such conditions of living +could seem natural to those in them, and that they could get so much +enjoyment of life in situations that would have been simple misery to +her. + +The visitors were in a foreign city. The shop signs were in foreign +tongues; in some streets all Hebrew. On chance news-stands were +displayed newspapers in Russian, Bohemian, Arabic, Italian, Hebrew, +Polish, German-none in English. The theatre bills were in Hebrew or +other unreadable type. The sidewalks and the streets swarmed with noisy +dealers in every sort of second-hand merchandise--vegetables that had +seen a better day, fish in shoals. It was not easy to make one's way +through the stands and push-carts and the noisy dickering buyers and +sellers, who haggled over trifles and chaffed good-naturedly and were +strictly intent on their own affairs. No part of the town is more +crowded or more industrious. If youth is the hope of the country, the +sight was encouraging, for children were in the gutters, on the house +steps, at all the windows. The houses seemed bursting with humanity, +and in nearly every room of the packed tenements, whether the inmates +were sick or hungry, some sort of industry was carried on. In the damp +basements were junk-dealers, rag-pickers, goose-pickers. In one noisome +cellar, off an alley, among those sorting rags, was an old woman of +eighty-two, who could reply to questions only in a jargon, too proud to +beg, clinging to life, earning a few cents a day in this foul occupation. +But life is sweet even with poverty and rheumatism and eighty years. +Did her dull eyes, turning inward, see the Carpathian Hills, a free +girlhood in village drudgery and village sports, then a romance of love, +children, hard work, discontent, emigration to a New World of promise? +And now a cellar by day, the occupation of cutting rags for carpets, and +at night a corner in a close and crowded room on a flock bed not fit for +a dog. And this was a woman's life. + +Picturesque foreign women going about with shawls over their heads and +usually a bit of bright color somewhere, children at their games, hawkers +loudly crying their stale wares, the click of sewing-machines heard +through a broken window, everywhere animation, life, exchange of rough or +kindly banter. Was it altogether so melancholy as it might seem? Not +everybody was hopelessly poor, for here were lawyers' signs and doctors' +signs--doctors in whom the inhabitants had confidence because they +charged all they could get for their services--and thriving pawnbrokers' +shops. There were parish schools also--perhaps others; and off some dark +alley, in a room on the ground-floor, could be heard the strident noise +of education going on in high-voiced study and recitation. Nor were +amusements lacking--notices of balls, dancing this evening, and ten-cent +shows in palaces of legerdemain and deformity. + +It was a relenting day in March; patches of blue sky overhead, and the +sun had some quality in its shining. The children and the caged birds at +the open windows felt it-and there were notes of music here and there +above the traffic and the clamor. Turning down a narrow alley, with a +gutter in the centre, attracted by festive sounds, the visitors came into +a small stone-paved court with a hydrant in the centre surrounded by tall +tenement-houses, in the windows of which were stuffed the garments that +would no longer hold together to adorn the person. Here an Italian girl +and boy, with a guitar and violin, were recalling la bella Napoli, and a +couple of pretty girls from the court were footing it as merrily as if it +were the grape harvest. A woman opened a lower room door and sharply +called to one of the dancing girls to come in, when Edith and the doctor +appeared at the bottom of the alley, but her tone changed when she +recognized the doctor, and she said, by way of apology, that she didn't +like her daughter to dance before strangers. So the music and the dance +went on, even little dots of girls and boys shuffling about in a stiff- +legged fashion, with applause from all the windows, and at last a +largesse of pennies--as many as five altogether--for the musicians. +And the sun fell lovingly upon the pretty scene. + +But then there were the sweaters' dens, and the private rooms where half +a dozen pale-faced tailors stitched and pressed fourteen and sometimes +sixteen hours a day, stifling rooms, smelling of the hot goose and +steaming cloth, rooms where they worked, where the cooking was done, +where they ate, and late at night, when overpowered with weariness, lay +down to sleep. Struggle for life everywhere, and perhaps no more +discontent and heart-burning and certainly less ennui than in the palaces +on the avenues. + +The residence of Karl Mulhaus, one of the doctor's patients, was typical +of the homes of the better class of poor. The apartment fronted on a +small and not too cleanly court, and was in the third story. As Edith +mounted the narrow and dark stairways she saw the plan of the house. +Four apartments opened upon each landing, in which was the common hydrant +and sink. The Mulhaus apartment consisted of a room large enough to +contain a bed, a cook-stove, a bureau, a rocking-chair, and two other +chairs, and it had two small windows, which would have more freely +admitted the southern sun if they had been washed, and a room adjoining, +dark, and nearly filled by a big bed. On the walls of the living room +were hung highly colored advertising chromos of steamships and palaces of +industry, and on the bureau Edith noticed two illustrated newspapers of +the last year, a patent-medicine almanac, and a volume of Schiller. The +bureau also held Mr. Mulhaus's bottles of medicine, a comb which needed a +dentist, and a broken hair-brush. What gave the room, however, a +cheerful aspect were some pots of plants on the window-ledges, and half a +dozen canary-bird cages hung wherever there was room for them. + +None of the family happened to be at home except Mr. Mulhaus, who +occupied the rocking-chair, and two children, a girl of four years and a +boy of eight, who were on the floor playing "store" with some blocks of +wood, a few tacks, some lumps of coal, some scraps of paper, and a tangle +of twine. In their prattle they spoke, the English they had learned from +their brother who was in a store. + +"I feel some better today," said Mr. Mulhaus, brightening up as the +visitors entered, "but the cough hangs on. It's three months since this +weather that I haven't been out, but the birds are a good deal of +company." He spoke in German, and with effort. He was very thin and +sallow, and his large feverish eyes added to the pitiful look of his +refined face. The doctor explained to Edith that he had been getting +fair wages in a type-foundry until he had become too weak to go any +longer to the shop. + +It was rather hard to have to sit there all day, he explained to the +doctor, but they were getting along. Mrs. Mulhaus had got a job of +cleaning that day; that would be fifty cents. Ally--she was twelve--was +learning to sew. That was her afternoon to go to the College Settlement. +Jimmy, fourteen, had got a place in a store, and earned two dollars a +week. + +"And Vicky?" asked the doctor. + +"Oh, Vicky," piped up the eight-year-old boy. "Vicky's up to the +'stution"--the hospital was probably the institution referred to--"ever +so long now. I seen her there, me and Jim did. Such a bootifer place! +'Nd chicken!" he added. "Sis got hurt by a cart." + +Vicky was seventeen, and had been in a fancy store. + +"Yes," said Mulhaus, in reply to a question, "it pays pretty well raising +canaries, when they turn out singers. I made fifteen dollars last year. +I hain't sold much lately. Seems 's if people stopped wanting 'em such +weather. I guess it 'll be better in the spring." + +"No doubt it will be better for the poor fellow himself before spring," +said the doctor as they made their way down the dirty stairways. "Now +I'll show you one of my favorites." + +They turned into a broader street, one of the busy avenues, and passing +under an archway between two tall buildings, entered a court of back +buildings. In the third story back lived Aunt Margaret. The room was +scarcely as big as a ship's cabin, and its one window gave little light, +for it opened upon a narrow well of high brick walls. In the only chair +Aunt Margaret was seated close to the window. In front of her was a +small work-table, with a kerosene lamp on it, but the side of the room +towards which she looked was quite occupied by a narrow couch- +ridiculously narrow, for Aunt Margaret was very stout. There was a thin +chest of drawers on the other side, and the small coal stove that stood +in the centre so nearly filled the remaining space that the two visitors +were one too many. + +"Oh, come in, come in," said the old lady, cheerfully, when the door +opened. "I'm glad to see you." + +"And how goes it?" asked the doctor. + +"First rate. I'm coming on, doctor. Work's been pretty slack for two +weeks now, but yesterday I got work for two days. I guess it will be +better now." + +The work was finishing pantaloons. It used to be a good business before +there was so much cutting in. + +"I used to get fifteen cents a pair, then ten; now they don't pay but +five. Yes, the shop furnishes the thread." + +"And how many pairs can you finish in a day?" asked Edith. + +"Three--three pairs, to do 'em nice--and they are very particular--if I +work from six in the morning till twelve at night. I could do more, but +my sight ain't what it used to be, and I've broken my specs." + +"So you earn fifteen cents a day?" + +"When I've the luck to get work, my lady. Sometimes there isn't any. +And things cost so much. The rent is the worst." + +It appeared that the rent was two dollars and a half a month. That must +be paid, at any rate. Edith made a little calculation that on a flush +average of ninety cents a week earned, and allowing so many cents for +coal and so many cents for oil, the margin for bread and tea must be +small for the month. She usually bought three cents' worth of tea at a +time. + +"It is kinder close," said the old lady, with a smile. "The worst is, +my feet hurt me so I can't stir out. But the neighbors is real kind. +The little boy next room goes over to the shop and fetches my pantaloons +and takes 'em back. I can get along if it don't come slack again." + +Sitting all day by that dim window, half the night stitching by a +kerosene lamp; lying for six hours on that narrow couch! How to account +for this old soul's Christian resignation and cheerfulness! "For," said +the doctor, "she has seen better days; she has moved in high society; her +husband, who died twenty years ago, was a policeman. What the old lady +is doing is fighting for her independence. She has only one fear--the +almshouse." + +It was with such scenes as these in her eyes that Edith went to her +dressing-room to make her toilet for the Henderson dinner. + + + + +V + +It was the first time they had dined with the Hendersons. It was Jack's +doings. "Certainly, if you wish it," Edith had said when the invitation +came. The unmentioned fact was that Jack had taken a little flier in +Oshkosh, and a hint from Henderson one evening at the Union, when the +venture looked squally, had let him out of a heavy loss into a small +profit, and Jack felt grateful. + +"I wonder how Henderson came to do it?" Jack was querying, as he and old +Fairfax sipped their five-o'clock "Manhattan." + +"Oh, Henderson likes to do a good-natured thing still, now and then. +Do you know his wife?" + +"No. Who was she?" + +"Why, old Eschelle's daughter, Carmen; of course you wouldn't know; that +was ten years ago. There was a good deal of talk about it at the time." + +"How?" + +"Some said they'd been good friends before Mrs. Henderson's death." + +"Then Carmen, as you call her, wasn't the first?" + +"No, but she was an easy second. She's a social climber; bound to get +there from the start." + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Devilish. She's a little thing. I saw her once at Homburg, on the +promenade with her mother. + +"The kind of sweet blonde, I said to myself, that would mix a man up in a +duel before he knew where he was." + +"She must be interesting." + +"She was always clever, and she knows enough to play a straight game and +when to propitiate. I'll bet a five she tells Henderson whom to be good +to when the chance offers." + +"Then her influence on him is good?" + +"My dear sir, she gets what she wants, and Henderson is going to the..... +well, look at the lines in his face. I've known Henderson since he +came fresh into the Street. He'd rarely knife a friend when his first +wife was living. Now, when you see the old frank smile on his face, it's +put on." + +It was half-past eight when Mr. Henderson with Mrs. Delancy on his arm +led the way to the diningroom. The procession was closed by Mrs. +Henderson and Mr. Delancy. The Van Dams were there, and Mrs. Chesney and +the Chesney girls, and Miss Tavish, who sat on Jack's right, but the rest +of the guests were unknown to Jack, except by name. There was a strong +dash of the Street in the mixture, and although the Street was tabooed in +the talk, there was such an emanation of aggressive prosperity at the +table that Jack said afterwards that he felt as if he had been at a +meeting of the board. + +If Jack had known the house ten years ago, he would have noticed certain +subtle changes in it, rather in the atmosphere than in many alterations. +The newness and the glitter of cost had worn off. It might still be +called a palace, but the city had now a dozen handsomer houses, and +Carmen's idea, as she expressed it, was to make this more like a home. +She had made it like herself. There were pictures on the walls that +would not have hung there in the late Mrs. Henderson's time; and the +prevailing air was that of refined sensuousness. Life, she said, was her +idea, life in its utmost expression, untrammeled, and yes, a little +Greek. Freedom was perhaps the word, and yet her latest notion was +simplicity. The dinner was simple. Her dress was exceedingly simple, +save that it had in it somewhere a touch of audacity, revealing in a +flash of invitation the hidden nature of the woman. She knew herself +better than any one knew her, except Henderson, and even he was forced to +laugh when she travestied Browning in saying that she had one soul-side +to face the world with, one to show the man she loved, and she declared +he was downright coarse when on going out of the door he muttered, "But +it needn't be the seamy side." The reported remark of some one who had +seen her at church that she looked like a nun made her smile, but she +broke into a silvery laugh when she head Van Dam's comment on it, "Yes, +a devil of a nun." + +The library was as cozy as ever, but did not appear to be used much as a +library. Henderson, indeed, had no time to add to his collection or +enjoy it. Most of the books strewn on the tables were French novels or +such American tales as had the cachet of social riskiness. But Carmen +liked the room above all others. She enjoyed her cigarette there, and +had a fancy for pouring her five-o'clock tea in its shelter. Books which +had all sorts of things in them gave somehow an unconventional atmosphere +to the place, and one could say things there that one couldn't say in a +drawing-room. + +Henderson himself, it must be confessed, had grown stout in the ten +years, and puffy under the eyes. There were lines of irritation in his +face and lines of weariness. He had not kept the freshness of youth so +well as Carmen, perhaps because of his New England conscience. To his +guest he was courteous, seemed to be making an effort to be so, and +listened with well-assumed interest to the story of her day's pilgrimage. +At length he said, with a smile, "Life seems to interest you, Mrs. +Delancy." + +"Yes, indeed," said Edith, looking up brightly; "doesn't it you?" + +"Why, yes; not life exactly, but things, doing things--conflict." + +"Yes, I can understand that. There is so much to be done for everybody." + +Henderson looked amused. "You know in the city the gospel is that +everybody is to be done." + +"Well," said Edith, not to be diverted, "but, Mr. Henderson, what is it +all for--this conflict? Perhaps, however, you are fighting the devil?" + +"Yes, that's it; the devil is usually the other fellow. But, Mrs. +Delancy," added Henderson, with an accent of seriousness, "I don't know +what it's all for. I doubt if there is much in it." + +"And yet the world credits you with finding a great deal in it." + +"The world is generally wrong. Do you understand poker, Mrs. Delancy? +No! Of course you do not. But the interest of the game isn't so much in +the cards as in the men." + +"I thought it was the stakes." + +"Perhaps so. But you want to win for the sake of winning. If I gambled +it would be a question of nerve. I suppose that which we all enjoy is +the exercise of skill in winning." + +"And not for the sake of doing anything--just winning? Don't you get +tired of that?" asked Edith, quite simply. + +There was something in Edith's sincerity, in her fresh enthusiasm about +life, that appeared to strike a reminiscent note in Henderson. Perhaps +he remembered another face as sweet as hers, and ideals, faint and long +ago, that were once mixed with his ideas of success. At any rate, it was +with an accent of increased deference, and with a look she had not seen +in his face before, that he said: + +"People get tired of everything. I'm not sure but it would interest me +to see for a minute how the world looks through your eyes." And then he +added, in a different tone, "As to your East Side, Mrs. Henderson tried +that some years ago." + +"Wasn't she interested?" + +"Oh, very much. For a time. But she said there was too much of it." +And Edith could detect no tone of sarcasm in the remark. + +Down at the other end of the table, matters were going very smoothly. +Jack was charmed with his hostess. That clever woman had felt her way +along from the heresy trial, through Tuxedo and the Independent Theatre +and the Horse Show, until they were launched in a perfectly free +conversation, and Carmen knew that she hadn't to look out for thin ice. + +"Were you thinking of going on to the Conventional Club tonight, Mr. +Delancy?" she was saying. + +"I don't belong," said Jack. "Mrs. Delancy said she didn't care for it." + +"Oh, I don't care for it, for myself," replied Carmen. + +"I do," struck in Miss Tavish. "It's awfully nice." + +"Yes, it does seem to fill a want. Why, what do you do with your +evenings, Mr. Delancy?" + +"Well, here's one of them." + +"Yes, I know, but I mean between twelve o'clock and bedtime." + +"Oh," said Jack, laughing out loud, "I go to bed--sometimes." + +"Yes, 'there's always that. But you want some place to go to after the +theatres and the dinners; after the other places are shut up you want to +go somewhere and be amused." + +"Yes," said Jack, falling in, "it is a fact that there are not many +places of amusement for the rich; I understand. After the theatres you +want to be amused. This Conventional Club is--" + +"I tell you what it is. It's a sort of Midnight Mission for the rich. +They never have had anything of the kind in the city." + +"And it's very nice," said Miss Tavish, demurely. + +The performers are selected. You can see things there that you want to +see at other places to which you can't go. And everybody you know is +there." + +"Oh, I see," said Jack. "It's what the Independent Theatre is trying to +do, and what all the theatrical people say needs to be done, to elevate +the character of the audiences, and then the managers can give better +plays." + +"That's just it. We want to elevate the stage," Carmen explained. + +"But," continued Jack, "it seems to me that now the audience is select +and elevated, it wants to see the same sort of things it liked to see +before it was elevated." + +"You may laugh, Mr. Delancy," replied Carmen, throwing an earnest +simplicity into her eyes, "but why shouldn't women know what is going on +as well as men?" + +"And why," Miss Tavish asked, "will the serpentine dances and the London +topical songs do any more harm to women than to men?" + +"And besides, Mr. Delancy," Carmen said, chiming in, "isn't it just as +proper that women should see women dance and throw somersaults on the +stage as that men should see them? And then, you know, women are such a +restraining influence." + +"I hadn't thought of that," said Jack. "I thought the Conventional was +for the benefit of the audience, not for the salvation of the +performers." + +"It's both. It's life. Don't you think women ought to know life? How +are they to take their place in the world unless they know life as men +know it?" + +"I'm sure I don't know whose place they are to take, the serpentine +dancer's or mine," said Jack, as if he were studying a problem. "How +does your experiment get on, Miss Tavish?" + +Carmen looked up quickly. + +"Oh, I haven't any experiment," said Miss Tavish, shaking her head. +"It's just Mr. Delancy's nonsense." + +"I wish I had an experiment. There is so little for women to do. I wish +I knew what was right." And Carmen looked mournfully demure, as if life, +after all, were a serious thing with her. + +"Whatever Mrs. Henderson does is sure to be right," said Jack, gallantly. + +Carmen shot at him a quick sympathetic glance, tempered by a grateful +smile. "There are so many points of view." + +Jack felt the force of the remark as he did the revealing glance. And he +had a swift vision of Miss Tavish leading him a serpentine dance, and of +Carmen sweetly beckoning him to a pleasant point of view. After all it +doesn't much matter. Everything is in the point of view. + +After dinner and cigars and cigarettes in the library, the talk dragged a +little in duets. The dinner had been charming, the house was lovely, the +company was most agreeable. All said that. It had been so somewhere +else the night before that, and would be the next night. And the ennui +of it all! No one expressed it, but Henderson could not help looking it, +and Carmen saw it. That charming hostess had been devoting herself to +Edith since dinner. She was so full of sympathy with the East-Side work, +asked a hundred questions about it, and declared that she must take it up +again. She would order a cage of canaries from that poor German for her +kitchen. It was such a beautiful idea. But Edith did not believe in her +one bit. She told Jack afterwards that "Mrs. Henderson cares no more for +the poor of New York than she does for--" + +"Henderson?" suggested Jack. + +"Oh, I don't know anything about that. Henderson has only one idea--to +get the better of everybody, and be the money king of New York. But I +should not wonder if he had once a soft spot in his heart. He is better +than she is." + +It was still early, lacked half an hour of midnight, and the night was +before them. Some one proposed the Conventional. "Yes," said Carmen; +"all come to our box." The Van Dams would go, Miss Tavish, the Chesneys; +the suggestion was a relief to everybody. Only Mr. Henderson pleaded +important papers that must have his attention that night. Edith said +that she was too tired, but that her desertion must not break up the +party. + +"Then you will excuse me also," said Jack, a little shade of +disappointment in his face. + +"No, no," said Edith, quickly; "you can drop me on the way. Go, by all +means, Jack." + +"Do you really want me to go, dear?" said Jack, aside. + +"Why of course; I want you to be happy." + +And Jack recalled the loving look that accompanied these words, later on, +as he sat in the Henderson box at the Conventional, between Carmen and +Miss Tavish, and saw, through the slight haze of smoke, beyond the +orchestra, the praiseworthy efforts of the Montana Kicker, who had just +returned with the imprimatur of Paris, to relieve the ennui of the modern +world. + +The complex affair we call the world requires a great variety of people +to keep it going. At one o'clock in the morning Carmen and our friend +Mr. Delancy and Miss Tavish were doing their part. Edith lay awake +listening for Jack's return. And in an alley off Rivington Street a +young girl, pretty once, unknown to fortune but not to fame, was about to +render the last service she could to the world by leaving it. + +The impartial historian scarcely knows how to distribute his pathos. +By the electric light (and that is the modern light) gayety is almost as +pathetic as suffering. Before the Montana girl hit upon the happy device +that gave her notoriety, her feet, whose every twinkle now was worth a +gold eagle, had trod a thorny path. There was a fortune now in the whirl +of her illusory robes, but any day--such are the whims of fashion--she +might be wandering again, sick at heart, about the great city, knocking +at the side doors of variety shows for any engagement that would give her +a pittance of a few dollars a week. How long had Carmen waited on the +social outskirts; and now she had come into her kingdom, was she anything +but a tinsel queen? Even Henderson, the great Henderson, did the friends +of his youth respect him? had he public esteem? Carmen used to cut out +the newspaper paragraphs that extolled Henderson's domestic virtue and +his generosity to his family, and show them to her lord, with a queer +smile on her face. Miss Tavish, in the nervous consciousness of fleeting +years, was she not still waiting, dashing here and there like a bird in a +net for the sort of freedom, audacious as she was, that seemed denied +her? She was still beautiful, everybody said, and she was sought and +flattered, because she was always merry and good-natured. Why should Van +Dam, speaking of women, say that there were horses that had been set up, +and checked up and trained, that held their heads in an aristocratic +fashion, moved elegantly, and showed style, long after the spirit had +gone out of them? And Jack himself, happily married, with a comfortable +income, why was life getting flat to him? What sort of career was it +that needed the aid of Carmen and the serpentine dancer? And why not, +since it is absolutely necessary that the world should be amused? + +We are in no other world when we enter the mean tenement in the alley off +Rivington Street. Here also is the life of the town. The room is small, +but it contains a cook-stove, a chest of drawers, a small table, a couple +of chairs, and two narrow beds. On the top of the chest are a looking- +glass, some toilet articles, and bottles of medicine. The cracked walls +are bare and not clean. In one of the beds are two children, sleeping +soundly, and on the foot of it is a middle-aged woman, in a soiled woolen +gown with a thin figured shawl drawn about her shoulders, a dirty cap +half concealing her frowzy hair; she looks tired and worn and sleepy. +On the other bed lies a girl of twenty years, a woman in experience. +The kerosene lamp on the stand at the head of the bed casts a spectral +light on her flushed face, and the thin arms that are restlessly thrown +outside the cover. By the bedside sits the doctor, patient, silent, and +watchful. The doctor puts her hand caressingly on that of the girl. +It is hot and dry. The girl opens her eyes with a startled look, and +says, feebly: + +"Do you think he will come?" + +"Yes, dear, presently. He never fails." + +The girl closed her eyes again, and there was silence. The dim rays of +the lamp, falling upon the doctor, revealed the figure of a woman of less +than medium size, perhaps of the age of thirty or more, a plain little +body, you would have said, who paid the slightest possible attention to +her dress, and when she went about the city was not to be distinguished +from a working-woman. Her friends, indeed, said that she had not the +least care for her personal appearance, and unless she was watched, she +was sure to go out in her shabbiest gown and most battered hat. She wore +tonight a brown ulster and a nondescript black bonnet drawn close down on +her head and tied with black strings. In her lap lay her leathern bag, +which she usually carried under her arm, that contained medicines, lint, +bandages, smelling-salts, a vial of ammonia, and so on; to her patients +it was a sort of conjurer's bag, out of which she could produce anything +that an emergency called for. + +Dr. Leigh was not in the least nervous or excited. Indeed, an artist +would not have painted her as a rapt angelic visitant to this abode of +poverty. This contact with poverty and coming death was quite in her +ordinary experience. It would never have occurred to her that she was +doing anything unusual, any more than it would have occurred to the +objects of her ministrations to overwhelm her with thanks. They trusted +her, that was all. They met her always with a pleasant recognition. +She belonged perhaps to their world. Perhaps they would have said that +"Dr. Leigh don't handsome much," but their idea was that her face was +good. That was what anybody would have said who saw her tonight, "She +has such a good face;" the face of a woman who knew the world, and +perhaps was not very sanguine about it, had few illusions and few +antipathies, but accepted it, and tried in her humble way to alleviate +its hardships, without any consciousness of having a mission or making a +sacrifice. + +Dr. Leigh--Miss Ruth Leigh--was Edith's friend. She had not come from +the country with an exalted notion of being a worker among the poor about +whom so much was written; she had not even descended from some high +circle in the city into this world, moved by a restless enthusiasm for +humanity. She was a woman of the people, to adopt a popular phrase. +From her childhood she had known them, their wants, their sympathies, +their discouragements; and in her heart--though you would not discover +this till you had known her long and well--there was a burning sympathy +with them, a sympathy born in her, and not assumed for the sake of having +a career. It was this that had impelled her to get a medical education, +which she obtained by hard labor and self-denial. To her this was not a +means of livelihood, but simply that she might be of service to those all +about her who needed help more than she did. She didn't believe in +charity, this stout-hearted, clearheaded little woman; she meant to make +everybody pay for her medical services who could pay; but somehow her +practice was not lucrative, and the little salary she got as a dispensary +doctor melted away with scarcely any perceptible improvement in her own +wardrobe. Why, she needed nothing, going about as she did. + +She sat--now waiting for the end; and the good face, so full of sympathy +for the living, had no hope in it. Just another human being had come to +the end of her path--the end literally. It was so everyday. Somebody +came to the end, and there was nothing beyond. Only it was the end, and +that was peace. One o'clock--half-past one. The door opened softly. +The old woman rose from the foot of the bed with a start and a low +"Herr! gross Gott." It was Father Damon. The girl opened her eyes with +a frightened look at first, and then an eager appeal. Dr. Leigh rose to +make room for him at the bedside. They bowed as he came forward, and +their eyes met. She shook her head. In her eyes was no expectation, no +hope. In his was the glow of faith. But the eyes of the girl rested +upon his face with a rapt expression. It was as if an angel had entered +the room. + +Father Damon was a young man, not yet past thirty, slender, erect. +He had removed as he came in his broad-brimmed soft hat. The hair was +close-cut, but not tonsured. He wore a brown cassock, falling in +straight lines, and confined at the waist with a white cord. From his +neck depended from a gold chain a large gold cross. His face was smooth- +shaven, thin, intellectual, or rather spiritual; the nose long, the mouth +straight, the eyes deep gray, sometimes dreamy and puzzling, again +glowing with an inner fervor. A face of long vigils and the schooled +calmness of repressed energy. You would say a fanatic of God, with a +dash of self-consciousness. Dr. Leigh knew him well. They met often on +their diverse errands, and she liked, when she could, to go to vespers in +the little mission chapel of St. Anselm, where he ministered. It was not +the confessional that attracted her, that was sure; perhaps not +altogether the service, though that was soothing in certain moods; but it +was the noble personality of Father Damon. He was devoted to the people +as she was, he understood them; and for the moment their passion of +humanity assumed the same aspect, though she knew that what he saw, or +thought he saw, lay beyond her agnostic vision. + +Father Damon was an Englishman, a member of a London Anglican order, who +had taken the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, who had +been for some years in New York, and had finally come to live on the East +Side, where his work was. In a way he had identified himself with the +people; he attended their clubs; he was a Christian socialist; he spoke +on the inequalities of taxation; the strikers were pretty sure of his +sympathy; he argued the injustice of the present ownership of land. Some +said that he had joined a lodge of the Knights of Labor. Perhaps it was +these things, quite as much as his singleness of purpose and his +spiritual fervor, that drew Dr. Leigh to him with a feeling that verged +on devotion. The ladies up-town, at whose tables Father Damon was an +infrequent guest, were as fully in sympathy with this handsome and +aristocratic young priest, and thought it beautiful that he should devote +himself to the poor and the sinful; but they did not see why he should +adopt their views. + +It was at the mission that Father Damon had first seen the girl. She had +ventured in not long ago at twilight, with her cough and her pale face, +in a silk gown and flower-garden of a hat, and crept into one of the +confessional boxes, and told him her story. + +"Do you think, Father," said the girl, looking up wistfully, "that I can- +-can be forgiven?" + +Father Damon looked down sadly, pitifully. "Yes, my daughter, if you +repent. It is all with our Father. He never refuses." + +He knelt down, with his cross in his hand, and in a low voice repeated +the prayer for the dying. As the sweet, thrilling voice went on in +supplication the girl's eyes closed again, and a sweet smile played about +her mouth; it was the innocent smile of the little girl long ago, when +she might have awakened in the morning and heard the singing of birds at +her window. + +When Father Damon arose she seemed to be sleeping. They all stood in +silence for a moment. + +"You will remain?" he asked the doctor. + +"Yes," she said, with the faintest wan smile on her face. "It is I, you +know, who have care of the body." + +At the door he turned and said, quite low, "Peace be to this house!" + + + + +VI + +Father Damon came dangerously near to being popular. The austerity of +his life and his known self-chastening vigils contributed to this effect. +His severely formal, simple ecclesiastical dress, coarse in material but +perfect in its saintly lines, separated him from the world in which he +moved so unostentatiously and humbly, and marked him as one who went +about doing good. His life was that of self-absorption and hardship, +mortification of the body, denial of the solicitation of the senses, +struggling of the spirit for more holiness of purpose--a life of +supplication for the perishing souls about him. And yet he was so +informed with the modern spirit that he was not content, as a zealot +formerly might have been, to snatch souls out of the evil that is in the +world, but he strove to lessen the evil. He was a reformer. It was +probably this feature of his activity, and not his spiritual mission, +that attracted to him the little group of positivists on the East Side, +the demagogues of the labor lodges, the practical workers of the working- +girls' clubs, and the humanitarian agnostics like Dr. Leigh, who were +literally giving their lives without the least expectation of reward. +Even the refined ethical-culture groups had no sneer for Father Damon. +The little chapel of St. Anselm was well known. It was always open. +It was plain, but its plainness was not the barrenness of a non- +conformist chapel. There were two confessionals; a great bronze lamp +attached to one of the pillars scarcely dispelled the obscurity, but cast +an unnatural light upon the gigantic crucifix that hung from a beam in +front of the chancel. There were half a dozen rows of backless benches +in the centre of the chapel. The bronze lamp, and the candles always +burning upon the altar, rather accented than dissipated the heavy shadows +in the vaulted roof. At no hour was it empty, but at morning prayer and +at vespers the benches were apt to be filled, and groups of penitents or +spectators were kneeling or standing on the floor. At vespers there were +sure to be carriages in front of the door, and among the kneeling figures +were ladies who brought into these simple services for the poor something +of the refinement of grace as it is in the higher circles. Indeed, at +the hour set apart for confession, there were in the boxes saints from +up-town as well as sinners from the slums. Sometimes the sinners were +from up-town and the saints from the slums. + +When the organ sounded, and through a low door in the chancel the priest +entered, preceded by a couple of acolytes, and advanced swiftly to the +reading-desk, there was an awed hush in the congregation. One would not +dare to say that there was a sentimental feeling for the pale face and +rapt expression of the devotee. It was more than that. He had just come +from some scene of suffering, from the bed of one dying; he was weary +with watching. He was faint with lonely vigils; he was visibly carrying +the load of the poor and the despised. Even Ruth Leigh, who had dropped +in for half an hour in one of her daily rounds--even Ruth Leigh, who had +in her stanch, practical mind a contempt for forms and rituals, and no +faith in anything that she could not touch, and who at times was +indignant at the efforts wasted over the future of souls concerning which +no one knew anything, when there were so many bodies, which had inherited +disease and poverty and shame, going to worldly wreck before so-called +Christian eyes--even she could scarcely keep herself from adoring this +self-sacrificing spirit. The woes of humanity grieved him as they +grieved her, and she used to say she did not care what he believed so +long as he gave his life for the needy. + +It was when he advanced to the altar-rail to speak that the man best +appeared. His voice, which was usually low and full of melody, could be +something terrible when it rose in denunciation of sin. Those who had +traveled said that he had the manner of a preaching friar--the simple +language, so refined and yet so homely and direct, the real, the inspired +word, the occasional hastening torrent of words. When he had occasion to +address one of the societies of ladies for the promotion of something +among the poor, his style and manner were simplicity itself. One might +have said there was a shade of contempt in his familiar and not seldom +slightly humorous remarks upon society and its aims and aspirations, +about which he spoke plainly and vigorously. And this was what the +ladies liked. Especially when he referred to the pitifulness of class +distinctions, in the light of the example of our Lord, in our short +pilgrimage in this world. This unveiling and denunciation made them +somehow feel nearer to their work, and, indeed, while they sat there, +co-workers with this apostle of righteousness. + +Perhaps there was something in the priestly dress that affected not only +the congregation in the chapel, but all the neighborhood in which Father +Damon lived. There was in the long robe, with its feminine lines, an +assurance to the women that he was set apart and not as others were; and, +on the other hand, the semi-feminine suggestion of the straight-falling +garment may have had for the men a sort of appeal for defense and even +protection. It is certain, at any rate, that Father Damon had the +confidence of high and low, rich and poor. The forsaken sought him out, +the hungry went to him, the dying sent for him, the criminal knocked at +the door of his little room, even the rich reprobate would have opened +his bad heart to him sooner than to any one else. It is evident, +therefore, that Father Damon was dangerously near to being popular. +Human vanity will feed on anything within its reach, and there has been +discovered yet no situation that will not minister to its growth. +Suffering perhaps it prefers, and contumely and persecution. Are not +opposition, despiteful anger, slander even, rejection of men, stripes +even, if such there could be in these days, manna to the devout soul +consciously set apart for a mission? But success, obsequiousness, +applause, the love of women, the concurrent good opinion of all +humanitarians, are these not almost as dangerous as persecution? Father +Damon, though exalted in his calling, and filled with a burning zeal, +was a sincere man, and even his eccentricities of saintly conduct +expressed to his mind only the high purpose of self-sacrifice. Yet he +saw, he could not but see, the spiritual danger in this rising tide of +adulation. He fought against its influence, he prayed against it, +he tried to humiliate himself, and his very humiliations increased the +adulation. He was perplexed, almost ashamed, and examined himself to see +how it was that he himself seemed to be thwarting his own work. +Sometimes he withdrew from it for a week together, and buried himself in +a retreat in the upper part of the island. Alas! did ever a man escape +himself in a retreat? It made him calm for the moment. But why was it, +he asked himself, that he had so many followers, his religion so few? +Why was it, he said, that all the humanitarians, the reformers, the +guilds, the ethical groups, the agnostics, the male and female knights, +sustained him, and only a few of the poor and friendless knocked, by his +solicitation, at the supernatural door of life? How was it that a woman +whom he encountered so often, a very angel of mercy, could do the things +he was doing, tramping about in the misery and squalor of the great city +day and night, her path unilluminated by a ray from the future life? + +Perhaps he had been remiss in his duty. Perhaps he was letting a vague +philanthropy take the place of a personal solicitude for individual +souls. The elevation of the race! What had the land question to do with +the salvation of man? Suppose everybody on the East Side should become +as industrious, as self-denying, as unselfish as Ruth Leigh, and yet +without belief, without hope! He had accepted the humanitarian situation +with her, and never had spoken to her of the eternal life. What +unfaithfulness to his mission and to her! It should be so no longer. + +It was after one of his weeks of retreat, at the close of vesper service, +that Dr. Leigh came to him. He had been saying in his little talk that +poverty is no excuse for irreligion, and that all aid in the hardship of +this world was vain and worthless unless the sinner laid hold on eternal +life. Dr. Leigh, who was laboring with a serious practical problem, +heard this coldly, and with a certain contempt for what seemed to her a +vague sort of consolation. + +"Well," he said, when she came to him in the vestry, with a drop from the +rather austere manner in which he had spoken, "what can I do for you?" + +"For me, nothing, Father Damon. I thought perhaps you would go round +with me to see a pretty bad case. It is in your parish." + +"Ah, did they send for me? Do they want spiritual help?" + +"First the natural, then the spiritual," she replied, with a slight tone +of sarcasm in her voice. "That's just like a priest," she was thinking. +"I do not know what to do, and something must be done." + +"Did you report to the Associated Charities?" + +"Yes. But there's a hitch somewhere. The machine doesn't take hold. +The man says he doesn't want any charity, any association, treating him +like a pauper. He's off peddling; but trade is bad, and he's been away a +week. I'm afraid he drinks a little." + +"Well?" + +"The mother is sick in bed. I found her trying to do some fine +stitching, but she was too weak to hold up the muslin. There are five +young children. The family never has had help before." + +Father Damon put on his hat, and they went out together, and for some +time picked their way along the muddy streets in silence. + +At length he asked, in a softened voice, "Is the mother a Christian?" + +"I didn't ask," she replied shortly. "I found her crying because the +children were hungry." + +Father Damon, still under the impression of his neglect of duty, did not +heed her warning tone, but persisted, "You have so many opportunities, +Dr. Leigh, in your visits of speaking a word." + +"About what?" she asked, refusing to understand, and hardened at the +slightest sign of what she called cant. + +"About the necessity of repentance and preparation for another life," he +answered, softly but firmly. "You surely do not think human beings are +created just for this miserable little experience here?" + +"I don't know. I have too much to do with the want and suffering I see +to raise anxieties about a world of which no one can possibly know +anything." + +"Pardon me," he persisted, "have you no sense of incompleteness in this +life, in your own life? no inward consciousness of an undying +personality?" + +The doctor was angry for a moment at this intrusion. It had seemed +natural enough for Father Damon to address his exhortations to the poor +and sinful of his mission. She admired his spirit, she had a certain +sympathy with him; for who could say that ministering to minds diseased +might not have a physical influence to lift these people into a more +decent and prosperous way of living? She had thought of herself as +working with him to a common end. But for him now to turn upon her, +absolutely ignoring the solid, rational, and scientific ground on which +he knew, or should know, she stood, and to speak to her as one of the +"lost," startled her, and filled her with indignation. She had on her +lips a sarcastic reply to the effect that even if she had a soul, she had +not taken up her work in the city as a means of saving it; but she was +not given to sarcasm, and before she spoke she looked at her companion, +and saw in the eyes a look of such genuine humble feeling, contradicting +the otherwise austere expression of his face, that her momentary +bitterness passed away. + +"I think, Father Damon," she said, gently, "we had better not talk of +that. I don't have much time for theorizing, you know, nor much +inclination," she added. + +The priest saw that for the present he could make no progress, and after +a little silence the conversation went back to the family they were about +to visit. + +They found the woman better--at least, more cheerful. Father Damon +noticed that there were medicines upon the stand, and that there were the +remains of a meal which the children had been eating. He turned to the +doctor. "I see that you have been providing for them." + +"Oh, the eldest boy had already been out and begged a piece of bread when +I came. Of course they had to have something more at once. But it is +very little that I can do." + +He sat down by the bed, and talked with the mother, getting her story, +while the doctor tidied up the room a bit, and then, taking the youngest +child in her lap and drawing the others about her, began to tell a story +in a low voice. Presently she was aware that the priest was on his knees +and saying a prayer. She stopped in her story, and looked out through +the dirty window into the chill and dark area. + +"What is he doing?" whispered one of the children. + +"I don't know," she said, and a sort of chill came over her heart. It +all seemed a mockery, in these surroundings. + +When he rose he said to the woman, "We will see that you do not want till +your husband comes back." + +"And I will look in tomorrow," said the doctor. + +When they were in the street, Father Damon thanked her for calling his +attention to the case, thanked her a little formally, and said that he +would make inquiries and have it properly attended to. And then he +asked: "Is your work ended for the day? You must be tired." + +"Oh, no; I have several visits to make. I'm not tired. I rather think +it is good for me, being out-of-doors so much." She thanked him, and +said good-by. + +For a moment he stood and watched the plain, resolute little woman +threading her way through the crowded and unclean street, and then slowly +walked away to his apartment, filled with sadness and perplexity. + +The apartment which he occupied was not far from the mission chapel, +and it was the one clean spot among the ill-kept tenements; but as to +comfort, it was not much better than the cell of an anchorite. Of this, +however, he was not thinking as he stretched himself out on his pallet to +rest a little from the exhausting labors of the day. Probably it did not +occur to him that his self-imposed privations lessened his strength for +his work. + +He was thinking of Ruth Leigh. What a rare soul! And yet apparently she +did not think or care whether she had a soul. What could be the spring +of her incessant devotion? If ever woman went about doing good in an +unselfish spirit it was she. Yet she confessed her work hopeless. She +had no faith, no belief in immortality, no expectation of any reward, +nothing to offer to anybody beyond this poor life. Was this the +enthusiasm of humanity, of which he heard so much? But she did not seem +to have any illusions, or to be burned up by enthusiasm. She just kept +on. Ah, he thought, what a woman she would be if she were touched by the +fire of faith! + +Meantime, Ruth Leigh went on her round. One day was like another, except +that every day the kaleidoscope of misery showed new combinations, new +phases of suffering and incompetence, and there was always a fresh +interest in that. For years now this had been her life, in the chill of +winter and the heat of summer, without rest or vacation. The amusements, +the social duties, the allurements of dress and society, that so much +occupied the thoughts of other women, did not seem to come into her life. +For books she had little time, except the books of her specialty. The +most exciting novels were pale compared with her daily experiences of +real life. Almost her only recreation was a meeting of the working- +girls, a session of her labor lodge, or an assembly at the Cooper Union, +where some fiery orator, perhaps a priest, or a clever agitator, +a working-man glib of speech, who had a mass of statistics at the end of +his tongue, who read and discussed, in some private club of zealots of +humanity, metaphysics, psychology, and was familiar with the whole +literature of labor and socialism, awoke the enthusiasm of the +discontented or the unemployed, and where men and women, in clear but +homely speech, told their individual experiences of wrong and injustice. +There was evidence in all these demonstrations and organizations that the +world was moving, and that the old order must change. + +Years and years the little woman had gone on with her work, and she +frankly confessed to Edith, one day when they were together going her +rounds, that she could see no result from it all. The problem of poverty +and helplessness and incapacity seemed to her more hopeless than when she +began. There might be a little enlightenment here and there, but there +was certainly not less misery. The state of things was worse than she +thought at first; but one thing cheered her: the people were better than +she thought. They might be dull and suspicious in the mass, but she +found so much patience, unselfishness, so many people of good hearts and +warm affections. + +"They are the people," she said, "I should choose for friends. They are +natural, unsophisticated. And do you know," she went on, "that what most +surprises me is the number of reading, thoughtful people among those who +do manual labor. I doubt if on your side of town the, best books, the +real fundamental and abstruse books, are so read and discussed, or the +philosophy of life is so seriously considered, as in certain little +circles of what you call the working-classes." + +"Isn't it all very revolutionary?" asked Edith. + +"Perhaps," replied the doctor, dryly. "But they have no more fads than +other people. Their theories seem to them not only practical, but they +try to apply them to actual legislation; at any rate, they discriminate +in vagaries. You would have been amused the other night in a small +circle at the lamentations over a member--he was a car-driver--who was +the authoritative expositor of Schopenhauer, because he had gone off into +Theosophy. It showed such weakness." + +"I have heard that the members of that circle were Nihilists." + +"The club has not that name, but probably the members would not care to +repudiate the title, or deny that they were Nihilists theoretically--that +is, if Nihilism means an absolute social and political overturning in +order that something better may be built up. And, indeed, if you see +what a hopeless tangle our present situation is, where else can the mind +logically go?" + +"It is pitiful enough," Edith admitted. "But all this movement you speak +of seems to me a vague agitation." + +"I don't think," the doctor said, after a moment, "that you appreciate +the intellectual force that is in it all, or allow for the fermenting +power in the great discontented mass of these radical theories on the +problem of life." + +This was a specimen of the sort of talk that Edith and the doctor often +drifted into in their mission work. As Ruth Leigh tramped along late +this afternoon in the slush of the streets, from one house of sickness +and poverty to another, a sense of her puny efforts in this great mass of +suffering and injustice came over her anew. Her indignation rose against +the state of things. And Father Damon, who was trying to save souls, was +he accomplishing anything more than she? Why had he been so curt with +her when she went to him for help this afternoon? Was he just a narrow- +minded, bigoted priest? A few nights before she had heard him speak on +the single tax at a labor meeting. She recalled his eloquence, his +profound sympathy with the cause of the people, the thrilling, pathetic +voice, the illumination of his countenance, the authority, the +consecration in his attitude and dress; and he was transfigured to her +then, as he was now in her thought, into an apostle of humanity. Alas! +she thought, what a leader he would be if he would break loose from his +superstitious traditions! + + + + +VII + +The acquaintance between the house of Henderson and the house of Delancy +was not permitted to languish. Jack had his reasons for it, which may +have been financial, and Carmen had her reasons, which were probably +purely social. What was the good of money if it did not bring social +position? and what, on the other hand, was the good of social position if +you could not use it to get money? + +In his recent association with the newly rich, Jack's twenty thousand a +year began to seem small. In fact, in the lowering of the rate of +interest and the shrinkage of securities, it was no longer twenty +thousand a year. This would have been a matter of little consequence in +the old order. His lot was not cast among the poor; most of his +relations had solid fortunes, and many of them were millionaires, or what +was equivalent to that, before the term was invented. But they made +little display; none at all merely for the purpose of exhibition, or to +gain or keep social place. In this atmosphere in which he was born Jack +floated along without effort, with no demand upon him to keep up with a +rising standard of living. Even impecuniosity, though inconvenient, +would not have made him lose caste. + +All this was changing now. Since the introduction of a new element even +the conservative old millions had begun to feel the stir of uneasiness, +and to launch out into extravagance in rivalry with the new millions. +Even with his relations Jack began to feel that he was poor. It did not +spur him to do anything, to follow the example, for instance, of the +young fellows from the country, who were throwing themselves into Wall +Street with the single purpose of becoming suddenly rich, but it made him +uneasy. And when he was with the Hendersons, or Miss Tavish, whose +father, though not newly rich, was one of the most aggressive of +speculators, and saw how easily every luxurious desire glided into +fulfillment, he felt for the first time in his life the emotion of envy. +It seemed then that only unlimited money could make the world attractive. +Why, even to keep up with the unthinking whims of Miss Tavish would +bankrupt him in six months. That little spread at Wherry's for the +theatre party the other night, though he made light of it to Edith, was +almost the price he couldn't afford to pay for Storm. He had a grim +thought that midwinter flowers made dining as expensive as dying. +Carmen, whom nothing escaped, complimented him on his taste, quite aware +that he couldn't afford it, and, apropos, told him of a lady in Chicago +who, hearing that the fashion had changed, wrote on her dinner cards, "No +flowers." It was only a matter of course for these people to build a new +country-house in any spot that fashion for the moment indicated, to equip +their yachts for a Mediterranean voyage or for loitering down the +Southern coast, to give a ball that was the talk of the town, to make up +a special train of luxurious private cars for Mexico or California. Even +at the clubs the talk was about these things and the opportunities for +getting them. + +There was a rumor about town that Henderson was a good deal extended. +It alarmed a hundred people, not on Henderson's account, but their own. +When one of them consulted Uncle Jerry, that veteran smiled. + +"Oh, I guess Henderson's all right. But I wouldn't wonder if it meant a +squeeze. Of course if he's extended, it's an excuse for settling up, and +the shorts will squeal. I've seen Henderson extended a good many times," +and the old man laughed. "Don't you worry about him." + +This opinion, when reported, did not seem to quiet Jack's fears, who saw +his own little venture at the mercy of a sweeping Street game. It +occurred to him that he possibly might get a little light on the matter +by dropping in that afternoon and taking a quiet cup of tea with Mrs. +Henderson. + +He found her in the library. Outdoors winter was slouching into spring +with a cold drizzle, with a coating of ice on the pavements-animating +weather for the medical profession. Within, there was the glow of warmth +and color that Carmen liked to create for herself. In an entrancing tea- +gown, she sat by a hickory fire, with a fresh magazine in one hand and a +big paper-cutter in the other. She rose at Jack's entrance, and, +extending her hand, greeted him with a most cordial smile. It was so +good of him! She was so lonesome! He could himself see that the +lonesomeness was dissipated, as she seated him in a comfortable chair by +the fire, and then stood a moment looking at him, as if studying his +comfort. She was such a domestic woman! + +"You look tired, monsieur," she said, as she passed behind his chair and +rested the tip of her forefinger for a second on his head. "I shall make +you a cup of tea at once." + +"Not tired, but bothered," said Jack, stretching out his legs. + +"I know," she replied; "it's a bothering world." She was still behind +him, and spoke low, but with sympathy. "I remember, it's only one lump." + +He could feel her presence, so womanly and friendly. "I don't care what +people say," he was thinking, "she's a good-hearted little thing, and +understands men." He felt that he could tell her anything, almost +anything that he could tell a man. She was sympathetic and not +squeamish. + +"There," she said, handing him the tea and looking down on him. + +The cup was dainty, the fragrance of the tea delicious, the woman +exquisite. + +"I'm better already," said Jack, with a laugh. + +She made a cup for herself, handed him the cigarettes, lit one for +herself, and sat on a low stool not far from him. + +"Now what is it?" + +"Oh, nothing--a little business worry. Have you heard any Street rumor?" + +"Rumor?" she repeated, with a little start. And then, leaning forward, +"Do you mean that about Mr. Henderson in the morning papers?" + +"Yes." + +Carmen, relieved, gave a liquid little laugh, and then said, with a +change to earnestness: "I'm going to trust you, my friend. Henderson put +it in himself! He told me so this morning when I asked him about it. +This is just between ourselves." + +Jack said, "Of course," but he did not look relieved. The clever +creature divined the situation without another word, for there was no +turn in the Street that she was not familiar with. But there was no +apparent recognition of it, except in her sympathetic tone, when she +said: "Well, the world is full of annoyances. I'm bothered myself--and +such a little thing." + +"What is it?" + +"Oh nothing, not even a rumor. You cannot do anything about it. I don't +know why I should tell you. But I will." And she paused a moment, +looking down in an innocent perplexity. "It's just this: I am on the +Foundlings' Board with Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, and I don't know her, and you +can't think how awkward it is having to meet her every week in that stiff +kind of way." She did not go on to confide to Jack how she had intrigued +to get on the board, and how Mrs. Schuyler Blunt, in the most well-bred +manner, had practically ignored her. + +"She's an old friend of mine." + +"Indeed! She's a charming woman." + +"Yes. We were great cronies when she was Sadie Mack. She isn't a +genius, but she is good-hearted. I suppose she is on all the charity +boards in the city. She patronizes everything," Jack continued, with a +smile. + +"I'm sure she is," said Carmen, thinking that however good-hearted she +might be she was very "snubby." "And it makes it all the more awkward, +for I am interested in so many things myself." + +"I can arrange all that," Jack said, in an off-hand way. Carmen's look +of gratitude could hardly be distinguished from affection. "That's easy +enough. We are just as good friends as ever, though I fancy she doesn't +altogether approve of me lately. It's rather nice for a fellow, Mrs. +Henderson, to have a lot of women keeping him straight, isn't it?" asked +Jack, in the tone of a bad boy. + +"Yes. Between us all we will make a model of you. I am so glad now that +I told you." + +Jack protested that it was nothing. Why shouldn't friends help each +other? Why not, indeed, said Carmen, and the talk went on a good deal +about friendship, and the possibility of it between a man and a woman. +This sort of talk is considered serious and even deep, not to say +philosophic. Carmen was a great philosopher in it. She didn't know, but +she believed, it seemed natural, that every woman should have one man +friend. Jack rose to go. + +"So soon?" And it did seem pathetically soon. She gave him her hand, and +then by an impulse she put her left hand over his, and looked up to him +in quite a business way. + +"Mr. Delancy, don't you be troubled about that rumor we were speaking of. +It will be all right. Trust me." + +He understood perfectly, and expressed both his understanding and his +gratitude by bending over and kissing the little hand that lay in his. + +When he had gone, Carmen sat a long time by the fire reflecting. It +would be sweet to humiliate the Delancy and Schuyler Blunt set, as +Henderson could. But what would she gain by that? It would be sweeter +still to put them under obligations, and profit by that. She had endured +a good many social rebuffs in her day, this tolerant little woman, and +the sting of their memory could only be removed when the people who had +ignored her had to seek social favors she could give. If Henderson only +cared as much for such things as she did! But he was at times actually +brutal about it. He seemed to have only one passion. She herself liked +money, but only for what it would bring. Henderson was like an old +Pharaoh, who was bound to build the biggest pyramid ever built to his +memory; he hated to waste a block. But what was the good of that when +one had passed beyond the reach of envy? + +Revolving these deep things in her mind, she went to her dressing-room +and made an elaborate toilet for dinner. Yet it was elaborately simple. +That sort needed more study than the other. She would like to be the +Carmen of ten years ago in Henderson's eyes. + +Her lord came home late, and did not dress for dinner. It was often so, +and the omission was usually not allowed to pass by Carmen without +notice, to which Henderson was sure to growl that he didn't care to be +always on dress parade. Tonight Carmen was all graciousness and warmth. +Henderson did not seem to notice it. He ate his dinner abstractedly, and +responded only in monosyllables to her sweet attempts at conversation. +The fact was that the day had been a perplexing one; he was engaged in +one of his big fights, a scheme that aroused all his pugnacity and taxed +all his resources. He would win--of course; he would smash everybody, +but he would win. When he was in this mood Carmen felt that she was like +a daisy in the path of a cyclone. In the first year of their marriage he +used to consult her about all his schemes, and value her keen +understanding. She wondered why he did not now. Did he distrust even +her, as he did everybody else? Tonight she asked no questions. She was +unruffled by his short responses to her conversational attempts; by her +subtle, wifely manner she simply put herself on his side, whatever the +side was. + +In the library she brought him his cigar, and lighted it. She saw that +his coffee was just as he liked it. As she moved about, making things +homelike, Henderson noticed that she was more Carmenish than he had seen +her in a long time. The sweet ways and the simple toilet must be by +intention. And he knew her so well. He began to be amused and softened. +At length he said, in his ordinary tone, "Well, what is it?" + +"What is what, dear?" + +"What do you want?" + +Carmen looked perplexed and sweetly surprised. There is nothing so +pitiful about habitual hypocrisy as that it never deceives anybody. +It was not the less painful now that Carmen knew that Henderson knew her +to the least fibre of her self-seeking soul, and that she felt that there +were currents in his life that she could not calculate. A man is so much +more difficult to understand than a woman, she reflected. And yet he is +so susceptible that he can be managed even when he knows he is being +managed. Carmen was not disconcerted for a moment. She replied, with +her old candor: + +"What an idea! You give me everything I want before I know what it is." + +"And before I know it either," he responded, with a grim smile. "Well, +what is the news today?" + +"Just the same old round. The Foundlings' Board, for one thing." + +"Are you interested in foundlings?" + +"Not much," said Carmen, frankly. "I'm interested in those that find +them. I told you how hateful that Mrs. Schuyler Blunt is." + +"Why don't you cut her? Why don't you make it uncomfortable for her?" + +"I can't find out," she said, with a laugh, dropping into the language of +the Street, "anything she is short in, or I would." + +"And you want me to get a twist on old Blunt?" and Henderson roared with +laughter at the idea. + +"No, indeed. Dear, you are just a goose, socially. It is nothing to +you, but you don't understand what we women have to go through. You +don't know how hard it is--that woman!" + +"What has she done?" + +"Nothing. That's just it. What do you say in the Street--freeze? Well, +she is trying to freeze me out." + +Henderson laughed again. "Oh, I'll back you against the field." + +"I don't want to be backed," said Carmen; "I want some sympathy." + +"Well, what is your idea?" + +"I was going to tell you. Mr. Delancy dropped in this afternoon for a +cup of tea--" + +"Oh!" + +"Yes, and he knows Mrs. Schuyler Blunt well; they are old friends, and he +is going to arrange it." + +"Arrange what?" + +"Why, smooth everything out, don't you know. But, Rodney, I do want you +to do something for me; not for me exactly, but about this. Won't you +look out for Mr. Delancy in this deal?" + +"Seems to me you are a good deal interested in Jack Delancy," said +Henderson, in a sneering tone. The remark was a mistake, for it gave +Carmen the advantage, and he did not believe it was just. He knew that +Carmen was as passionless as a diamond, whatever even she might pretend +for a purpose. + +"Aren't you ashamed!" she cried, with indignation, and her eyes flared +for an instant and then filled with tears. "And I try so hard." + +"But I can't look out for all the lame ducks." + +"He isn't a duck," said Carmen, using her handkerchief; "I'd hate him for +a duck. It's just to help me, when you know, when you know--and it is so +hard," and the tears came again. + +Did Henderson believe? After all, what did it matter? Perhaps, after +all, the woman had a right to her game, as he had to his. + +"Oh, well," he said, "don't take on about it. I'll fix it. I'll make a +memorandum this minute. Only don't you bother me in the future with too +many private kites." + +Carmen dried her eyes. She did not look triumphant; she just looked +sweet and grateful, like a person who had been helped. She went over and +kissed her lord on the forehead, and sat on the arm of his chair, not too +long, and then patted him on the shoulder, and said he was a good fellow, +and she was a little bother, and so went away like a dutiful little wife. + +And Henderson sat looking into the fire and musing, with the feeling that +he had been at the theatre, and that the comedy had been beautifully +played. + +His part of the play was carried out next day in good faith. One of the +secrets of Henderson's success was that he always did what he said he +would do. This attracted men to him personally, and besides he found, as +Bismarck did, that it was more serviceable to him than lying, for the +crafty world usually banks upon insincerity and indirectness. But while +he kept his word he also kept his schemes to himself, and executed them +with a single regard to his own interest and a Napoleonic selfishness. +He did not lie to enemy or friend, but he did not spare either when +either was in his way. He knew how to appeal to the self-interest of his +fellows, and in time those who had most to do with him trusted him least +when he seemed most generous in his offers. + +When, the next day, his secretary reported to him briefly that Delancy +was greatly elated with the turn things had taken for him, and was going +in again, Henderson smiled sardonically, and said, "It was the worst +thing I could have done for him." + +Jack, who did not understand the irony of his temporary rescue, and had +little experience of commercial integrity, so called, was intent on +fulfilling his part of the understanding with Carmen. This could best be +effected by a return dinner to the Hendersons. The subject was broached +at breakfast in an off-hand manner to Edith. + +It was not an agreeable subject to Edith, that was evident; but it was +not easy for her to raise objections to the dinner. She had gone to the +Hendersons' to please Jack, in her policy of yielding in order to +influence him; but having accepted the hospitality, she could not object +to returning it. The trouble was in making the list. + +"I do not know," said Edith, "who are the Hendersons' friends." + +"Oh, that doesn't matter. Ask our friends. If we are going to do a +thing to please them, no use in doing it half-way, so as to offend them, +by drawing social lines against them." + +"Well, suggest." + +"There's Mavick; he'll be over from Washington next week." + +"That's good; and, oh, I'll ask Father Damon." + +"Yes; he'll give a kind of flavor to it. I shouldn't wonder if he would +like to meet such a man as Henderson." + +"And then the Van Dams and Miss Tavish; they were at Henderson's, and +would help to make it easy." + +"Yes; well, let's see. The Schuyler Blunts?" + +"Oh, they wouldn't do at all. They wouldn't come. She wouldn't think of +going to the Hendersons'." + +"But she would come to us. I don't think she would mind once in a way." + +"But why do you want them?" + +"I don't want them particularly; but it would no doubt please the +Hendersons more than any other thing we could do-and, well, I don't want +to offend Henderson just now. It's a little thing, anyway. What's the +use of all this social nonsense? We are not responsible for either the +Hendersons or the Blunts being in the world. No harm done if they don't +come. You invite them, and I'll take the responsibility." + +So it was settled, against Edith's instinct of propriety, and the dinner +was made up by the addition of the elder Miss Chesney. And Jack did +persuade Mrs. Blunt to accept. In fact, she had a little curiosity to +see the man whose name was in the newspapers more prominently than that +of the President. + +It was a bright thought to secure Mr. Mavick. Mr. Thomas Mavick was +socially one of the most desirable young men of the day. Matrimonially +he was not a prize, for he was without fortune and without powerful +connections. He had a position in the State Department. Originally he +came from somewhere in the West, it was said, but he had early obtained +one or two minor diplomatic places; he had lived a good deal abroad; +he had traveled a little--a good deal, it would seem, from his occasional +Oriental allusions. He threw over his past a slight mystery, not too +much; and he always took himself seriously. His salary was sufficient to +set up a bachelor very comfortably who always dined out; he dressed in +the severity of the fashion; he belonged only to the best clubs, where he +unbent more than anywhere else; he was credited with knowing a good deal +more than he would tell. It was believed, in fact, that he had a great +deal of influence. The President had been known to send for him on +delicate personal business with regard to appointments, and there were +certain ticklish diplomatic transactions that he was known to have +managed most cleverly. His friends could see his hand in state papers. +This he disclaimed, but he never denied that he knew the inside of +whatever was going on in Washington. Even those who thought him a snob +said he was clever. He had perfectly the diplomatic manner, and the +reserve of one charged with grave secrets. Whatever he disclosed was +always in confidence, so that he had the reputation of being as discreet +as he was knowing. With women he was of course a favorite, for he knew +how to be confidential without disclosing anything, and the hints he +dropped about persons in power simply showed that he was secretly +manoeuvring important affairs, and could make the most interesting +revelations if he chose. His smile and the shake of his head at the club +when talk was personal conveyed a world of meaning. Tom Mavick was, in +short, a most accomplished fellow. It was evident that he carried on the +State Department, and the wonder to many was that he was not in a +position to do it openly. His social prestige was as mysterious as his +diplomatic, but it was now unquestioned, and he might be considered as +one of the first of a class who are to reconcile social and political +life in this country. + + + + +VIII + +Looking back upon this dinner of the Delancys, the student of human +affairs can see how Providence uses small means for the accomplishment of +its purposes. Of all our social contrivances, the formal dinner is +probably the cause of more anxiety in the arrangement, of more weariness +in the performance, and usually of less satisfaction in the retrospect +than any other social function. However carefully the guests are +selected, it lacks the spontaneity that gives intellectual zest to the +chance dining together of friends. This Delancy party was made up for +reasons which are well understood, and it seemed to have been admirably +well selected; and yet the moment it assembled it was evident that it +could not be very brilliant or very enjoyable. Doubtless you, madam, +would have arranged it differently, and not made it up of such +incongruous elements. + +As a matter of fact, scarcely one of those present would not have had +more enjoyment somewhere else. Father Damon, whose theory was that the +rich needed saving quite as much as the poor, would nevertheless have +been in better spirits sitting down to a collation with the working-women +in Clinton Place. It was a good occasion for the cynical observation of +Mr. Mavick, but it was not a company that he could take in hand and +impress with his mysterious influence in public affairs. Henderson was +not in the mood, and would have had much more ease over a chop and a +bottle of half-and-half with Uncle Jerry. Carmen, socially triumphant, +would have been much more in her element at a petit souper of a not too +fastidious four. Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was in the unaccustomed position of +having to maintain a not too familiar and not too distant line of +deportment. Edith and Jack felt the responsibility of having put an +incongruous company on thin conventional ice. It was only the easy-going +Miss Tavish and two or three others who carried along their own animal +spirits and love of amusement who enjoyed the chance of a possible +contretemps. + +And yet the dinner was providentially arranged. If these people had not +met socially, this history would have been different from what it must +be. The lives of several of them were appreciably modified by this +meeting. It is too much to say that Father Damon's notion of the means +by which such men as Henderson succeed was changed, but personal contact +with the man may have modified his utterances about him, and he may have +turned his mind to the uses to which his wealth might be applied rather +than to the means by which he obtained it. Carmen's ingenuous interest +in his work may have encouraged the hope that at least a portion of this +fortune might be rescued to charitable uses. For Carmen, dining with +Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was a distinct gain, and indirectly opened many other +hitherto exclusive doors. That lady may not have changed her opinion +about Carmen, but she was good-natured and infected by the incoming +social tolerance; and as to Henderson, she declared that he was an +exceedingly well-bred man, and she did not believe half the stories about +him. Henderson himself at once appreciated the talents of Mavick, gauged +him perfectly, and saw what services he might be capable of rendering at +Washington. Mr. Mavick appreciated the advantage of a connection with +such a capitalist, and of having open to him another luxurious house in +New York. At the dinner-table Carmen and Mr. Mavick had not exchanged a +dozen remarks before these clever people felt that they were congenial +spirits. It was in the smoking-room that Henderson and Mavick fell into +an interesting conversation, which resulted in an invitation for Mavick +to drop in at Henderson's office in the morning. The dinner had not been +a brilliant one. Henderson found it not easy to select topics equally +interesting to Mrs. Delancy and Mrs. Blunt, and finally fell into +geographical information to the latter about Mexico and Honduras. For +Edith, the sole relief of the evening was an exchange of sympathy with +Father Damon, and she was too much preoccupied to enjoy that. As for +Carmen, placed between Jack and Mr. Mavick, and conscious that the eyes +of Mrs. Blunt were on her, she was taking a subdued role, which Jack +found much less attractive than her common mood. But this was not her +only self-sacrifice of the evening. She went without her usual +cigarette. + +To Edith the dinner was a revelation of new difficulties in the life she +proposed for herself, though they were rather felt than distinctly +reasoned about. The social atmosphere was distasteful; its elements were +out of harmony with her ideals. Not that this society was new to her, +but that she saw it in a new light. Before her marriage all these things +had been indifferent to this high-spirited girl. They were merely +incidents of the social state into which she was born, and she pursued +her way among them, having a tolerably clear conception of what her own +life should be, with little recognition of their tendencies. Were only +her own life concerned, they would still be indifferent to her. But +something had happened. That which is counted the best thing in life had +come to her, that best thing which is the touchstone of character as it +is of all conditions, and which so often introduces inextricable +complications. She had fallen in love with Jack Delancy and married him. + +The first effect of this was to awake and enlarge what philosophers would +call her enthusiasm of humanity. The second effect was to show her--and +this was what this little dinner emphasized--that she had put limitations +upon herself and taken on unthought-of responsibilities. To put this +sort of life one side, or make it secondary to her own idea of a useful +and happy life, would have been easy but for one thing--she loved Jack. +This philosophic reasoning about it does her injustice. It did not occur +to her that she could go her way and let him go his way. Nor must it be +supposed that the problem seemed as grave to her as it really was--the +danger of frittering away her own higher nature in faithfulness to one of +the noblest impulses of that nature. Yet this is the way that so many +trials of life come, and it is the greatest test of character. She felt- +as many women do feel--that if she retained her husband's love all would +be well, and the danger involved to herself probably did not cross her +mind. + +But what did cross her mind was that these associations meant only evil +for Jack, and that to be absorbed in the sort of life that seemed to +please him was for her to drift away from all her ideals. + +A confused notion of all this was in her thoughts when she talked with +Father Damon, while the gentlemen were in the smoking-room. She asked +him about his mission. + +"The interest continues," he replied; "but your East Side, Mrs. Delancy, +is a puzzling place." + +"How so?" + +"Perhaps you'll laugh if I say there is too much intelligence." + +Edith did laugh, and then said: "Then you'd better move your mission +over to this side. Here is a field of good, unadulterated worldliness. +But what, exactly, do you mean?" + +"Well, the attempt of science to solve the problem of sin and +wretchedness. What can you expect when the people are socialists and +their leaders agnostics?" + +"But I thought you were something of a socialist yourself!" + +"So I am," he said, frankly, "when I see the present injustice, the +iniquitous laws and combinations that leave these people so little +chance. They are ignorant, and expect the impossible; but they are right +in many things, and I go with them. But my motive is not theirs. I hope +not. There is no hope except in a spiritual life. Materialism down at +the bottom of society is no better than materialism at the top. Do you +know," he went on, with increased warmth, "that pessimism is rather the +rule over that side, and that many of those who labor most among the poor +have the least hope of ever making things substantially better?" + +"But such unselfish people as Dr. Leigh do a great deal of good," Edith +suggested. + +"Yes," he said reflecting--"yes, I have no doubt. I don't understand it. +She is not hopeful. She sees nothing beyond. I don't know what keeps +her up." + +"Love of humanity, perhaps." + +"I wish the phrase had never been invented. Religion of humanity! +The work is to save the souls of those people." + +"But," said Edith, with a flush of earnestness "but, Father Damon, isn't +human love the greatest power to save?" + +The priest looked at the girl. His face softened, and he said, more +gently, "I don't know. Of the soul, yes. But human love is so apt to +stand in the way of the higher life." + +In her soul Edith resented this as an ascetic and priestly view; but she +knew his devotion to that humanity which he in vain tried to eliminate +from his austere life, and she turned the talk lightly by saying, "Ah, +that is your theory. But I am coming over soon, and shall expect you and +Dr. Leigh to take me about." + + +The next morning Mr. Mavick's card gave him instant admission to the +inner office of Mr. Henderson, the approach to whom was more carefully +guarded than that to the President of the United States. This was not +merely necessary to save him from the importunities of cranks who might +carry concealed dynamite arguments, but as well to protect him from +hundreds of business men with whom he was indirectly dealing, and with +whom he wished to evade explanations. He thoroughly understood the +advantages of delay. He also understood the value of the mystery that +attends inaccessibility. Even Mr. Mavick himself was impressed by the +show of ceremony, by the army of clerks, and by the signs of complete +organization. He knew that the visitor was specially favored who +penetrated these precincts so far as to get an interview, usually +fruitless, with Henderson's confidential man. This confidential man was +a very grave and confidence-begetting person, who dealt out dubious hints +and promises, and did not at all mind when Henderson found it necessary +to repudiate as unauthorized anything that had been apparently said in +his name. To be sure, this gave a general impression that Henderson was +an inscrutable man to deal with, but at the same time it was confessed +that his spoken word could be depended on. Anything written might, it is +true, lead to litigation, and this gave rise to a saying in the Street +that Henderson's word was better than his bond. + +Henderson was not a politician, but he was a friend of politicians. It +was said that he contributed about equally to both sides in a political +campaign, and that this showed patriotism more than partisanship. It was +for his interest to have friends on both sides in Congress, and friends +in the Cabinet, and it was even hinted that he was concerned to have men +whose economic and financial theories accorded with his own on the +Supreme Bench. He had unlimited confidence in the power of money. His +visitor of the morning was not unlike him in many respects. He also was +not a politician. He would have described himself as a governmental man, +and had a theory of running the government with as little popular +interference as possible. He regarded himself as belonging to the +governing class. + +Between these two men, who each had his own interests in view, there was +naturally an apparent putting aside of reserve. + +"I was very glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mavick," said Henderson, +cordially. "I have known of you for a long time." + +"Yes? I've been in the employ of the government for some time." + +"And I suppose it pays pretty well," said Henderson, smilingly. + +"Oh, extravagantly," Mavick rejoined, in the same spirit. "You just +about get your board and clothes out of government. Your washing is +another thing. You are expected, you know, to have your washing done +where you vote." + +"Well, it's a sure thing." + +"Yes, till you are turned out. You know the theory at Washington is that +virtue is its own reward. Tom Fakeltree says it's enough." + +"I wonder how he knows?" + +"Observation, probably. Tom startled a dinner table the other day with +the remark that when a man once gives himself up to the full enjoyment of +a virtuous life, it seems strange to him that more people do not follow +his example." + +"The trouble with the virtue of Washington is that it always wants to +interfere with other people's business. Fellows like Tom are always +hunting up mares' nests in order to be paid for breaking them up." + +"I can't say about Tom," rejoined Mavick. "I suppose it is necessary to +live." + +"I suppose so. And that goes along with another proposition--that the +successful have no rights which the unsuccessful are bound to respect. +As soon as a man gets ahead," Henderson continued, with a tone of +bitterness, "the whole pack are trying to pull him down. A capitalist is +a public enemy. Why, look at that Hodge bill! Strikes directly at the +ability of the railways to develop the country. Have you seen it?" + +"Yes," Mavick admitted; "the drawer of it was good enough to consult me +on its constitutionality. It's a mighty queer bill." + +"It can't get through the Senate," said Henderson; "but it's a bother. +Such schemes are coming up all the time, and they unsettle business. +These fellows need watching." + +"And managing," added Mavick. + +"Exactly. I can't be in Washington all the time. And I need to know +what is going on every twenty-four hours from the inside. I can't rely +on politicians or lobbyists." + +"Well," said Mr. Mavick, in his easiest manner, "that's easy enough. +You want a disinterested friend." + +Henderson nodded, but did not even smile, and the talk went on about +other measures, and confidentially about certain men in Washington, +until, after twenty minutes' conversation, the two men came to a perfect +understanding. When Mavick arose to go they shook hands even more +cordially than at first, and Henderson said: + +"Well, I expect to hear from you, and remember that our house will always +be your home in the city." + + + + +IX + +It seemed very fortunate to Jack Delancy that he should have such a +clever woman as Carmen for his confidante, a man so powerful as Henderson +as his backer, and a person so omniscient as Mavick for his friend. +No combination could be more desirable for a young man who proposed to +himself a career of getting money by adroit management and spending it in +pure and simple self-indulgence. There are plenty of men who have taken +advantage of like conditions to climb from one position to another, and +have then kicked down the ladders behind them as fast as they attained a +new footing. It was Jack's fault that he was not one of these. You +could scarcely dignify his character by saying that he had an aim, except +to saunter through life with as little personal inconvenience as +possible. His selfishness was boneless. It was not by any means +negative, for no part of his amiable nature was better developed than +regard for his own care and comfort; but it was not strong enough to give +him Henderson's capacity for hard work and even self-denial, nor Mavick's +cool, persevering skill in making a way for himself in the world. +Why was not Edith his confidante? His respect for her was undoubted; his +love for her was unquestioned; his trust in her was absolute. And yet +with either Carmen or Miss Tavish he fell into confidential revelations +of himself which instinctively he did not make to Edith. The explanation +of this is on the surface, and it is the key to half the unhappiness in +domestic life. He felt that Edith was not in sympathy with the +associations and the life he was leading. The pitiful and hopeless part +of it is that if she had been in sympathy with them, Jack would have gone +on in his frivolous career at an accelerated pace. It was not absence of +love, it was not unfaithfulness, that made Jack enjoy the hours he spent +with Carmen, or with the pleasing and not too fastidious Miss Tavish, +with a zest that was wanting to his hours at home. If he had been upon a +sinking steamboat with the three women, and could have saved only one of +them, he would not have had a moment's hesitation in rescuing Edith and +letting the other two sink out of his life. The character is not +unusual, nor the situation uncommon. What is a woman to do? Her very +virtues are enemies of her peace; if she appears as a constant check and +monitor, she repels; if she weakly acquiesces, the stream will flow over +both of them. The dilemma seems hopeless. + +It would be a mistake to suppose that either Edith or Jack put their +relations in any such definite shape as this. He was unthinking. She +was too high-spirited, too confident of her position, to be assailed by +such fears. And it must be said, since she was a woman, that she had the +consciousness of power which goes along with the possession of loveliness +and keen wit. Those who knew her best knew that under her serenity was a +gay temperament, inherited from the original settlers of Manhattan, an +abounding enjoyment of life, and capacity for passion. It was early +discovered in her childhood that little Edith had a will of her own. + +Lent was over. It was the time of the twittering of sparrows, of the +opening of windows, of putting in order the little sentimental spots +called "squares," where the poor children get their idea of forests, and +the rich renew their faint recollections of innocence and country life; +when the hawkers go about the streets, and the hand-organs celebrate the +return of spring and the possibility of love. Even the idle felt that it +was a time for relaxation and quiet. + +"Have you answered Miss Tavish's invitation?" asked Jack one morning at +the breakfast-table. + +"Not yet. I shall decline today for myself." + +"Why? It's for charity." + +"Well, my charity extends to Miss Tavish. I don't want to see her +dance." + +"That leaves me in a nice hole. I said I'd go." + +"And why not? You go to a good many places you don't take me--the clubs, +brokers' offices, Stalker's, the Conventional, and--" + +"Oh, go on. Why do you object to my going to see this dance?" + +"My dear Jack," said Edith, "I haven't objected the least in the world;" +and her animated face sparkled with a smile, which seemed to irritate +Jack more than a frown would have done. + +"I don't see why you set yourself up. I'll bet Miss Tavish will raise +more money for the Baxter Street Guild, yes, and do more good, than you +and the priest and that woman doctor slopping about on the East Side in +six months." + +"Very likely," replied Edith, still with the same good-humored smile. +"But, Jack, it's delightful to see your philanthropic spirit stirred up +in this way. You ought to be encouraged. Why don't you join Miss Tavish +in this charity? I have no doubt that if it was advertised that Miss +Tavish and Mr. Jack Delancy would dance for the benefit of an East Side +guild in the biggest hall in the city, there wouldn't be standing room." + +"Oh, bosh!" said Jack, getting up from his chair and striding about the +room, with more irritation than he had ever shown to Edith before. +"I wouldn't be a prude." + +Edith's eyes flashed and her face flushed, but her smile came back in a +moment, and she was serene again. "Come here, Jack. Now, old fellow, +look me straight in the eyes, and tell me if you would like to have me +dance the serpentine dance before a drawing-room full of gossiping women, +with, as you say, just a few men peeping in at the doors." + +Jack did look, and the serene eyes, yet dancing with amusement at the +incongruous picture, seemed to take a warmer glow of love and pleading. + +"Oh, hang it! that's different," and he stooped and gave her an awkward +kiss. + +"I'm glad you know it's different," she said, with a laugh that had not a +trace of mockery in it; "and since you do, you'd better go along and do +your charity, and I'll stay at home, and try to be--different when you +come back." + +And Jack went; with a little feeling of sheepishness that he would not +have acknowledged at the time, and he found himself in a company where he +was entirely at his ease. He admired the dancing of the blithe, graceful +girl, he applauded her as the rest did with hand-clapping and bravas, and +said it was ravishing. It all suited him perfectly. And somehow, in the +midst of it all, in the sensuous abandon of this electric-light +eccentricity at mid-day, he had a fleeting vision of something very +different, of a womanhood of another sort, and a flush came to his face +for a moment as he imagined Edith in a skirt dance under the gaze of this +sensation-loving society. But this was only for a moment. When he +congratulated Miss Tavish his admiration was entirely sincere; and the +girl, excited with her physical triumph, seemed to him as one emancipated +out of acquired prudishness into the Greek enjoyment of life. Miss +Tavish, who would not for the world have violated one of the social +conventions of her set, longed, as many women do, for the sort of freedom +and the sort of applause which belongs to women who succeed upon the +stage. Not that she would have forfeited her position by dancing at a +theatre for money; but; within limits, she craved the excitement, the +abandon, the admiration, that her grace and passion could win. This was +not at all the ambition which led the Egyptian queen Hatshepsu to assume +the dress of a man, but rather that more famous aspiration which led the +daughter of Herodias, in a pleasure-loving court, to imitate and excel +the professional dancing-girls. If in this inclination of the women of +the day, which is not new, but has characterized all societies to which +wealth has brought idleness, there was a note of demoralization, it did +not seem so to Jack, who found the world day by day more pleasing and +more complaisant. + +As the months went by, everything prospered with him on his drifting +voyage. Of all voyages, that is the easiest to make which has no port in +view, that depends upon the varying winds, if the winds happen to be soft +and the chance harbors agreeable. Jack was envied, thanks to Henderson. +He was lucky in whatever he touched. Without any change in his idle +habits, and with no more attention to business than formerly, money came +to him so freely that he not only had a complacent notion that he was a +favorite of fortune, but the idea of his own importance in the financial +world increased enormously, much to the amusement of Mavick, when he was +occasionally in the city, to whom he talked somewhat largely of his +operations, and who knew that he had no more comprehension of the sweep +of Henderson's schemes than a baby has of the stock exchange when he +claps his hands with delight at the click of the ticker. + +His prosperity was visible. It showed in the increase of his accounts +at the Union, in his indifference to limits in the game of poker, in a +handsome pair of horses which he insisted on Edith's accepting for her +own use, in an increased scale of living at home, in the hundred ways +that a man of fashion can squander money in a luxurious city. If he did +not haunt the second-hand book-shops or the stalls of dealers in +engravings, or bring home as much bric-a-brac as he once had done, it was +because his mind was otherwise engaged; his tailor's bills were longer, +and there were more expensive lunches at the clubs, at which there was a +great deal of sage talk about stocks and combinations, and much wisdom +exhibited in regard to wines; and then there were the little suppers at +Wherry's after the theatres, which a bird could have eaten and a fish +have drunken, and only a spendthrift have paid for. + +"It is absurd," Edith had said one night after their return. "It makes +us ridiculous in the eyes of anybody but fools." And Jack had flared up +about it, and declared that he knew what he could afford, and she had +retorted that as for her she would not countenance it. And Jack had +attempted to pass it off lightly, at last, by saying, "Very well then, +dear, if you won't back me, I shall have to rely upon my bankers." +At any rate, neither Carmen nor Miss Tavish took him to task. They +complimented him on his taste, and Carmen made him feel that she +appreciated his independence and his courage in living the life that +suited him. She knew, indeed, how much he made in his speculations, how +much he lost at cards; she knew through him the gossip of the clubs, and +venturing herself not too far at sea, liked to watch the undertow of +fashionable life. And she liked Jack, and was not incapable of throwing +him a rope when the hour came that he was likely to be swept away by that +undertow. + +It was remarked at the Union, and by the men in the Street who knew him, +that Jack was getting rapid. But no one thought the less of him for his +pace--that is, no one appeared to, for this sort of estimate of a man is +only tested by his misfortunes, when the day comes that he must seek +financial backing. In these days he was generally in an expansive mood, +and his free hand and good-humor increased his popularity. There were +those who said that there were millions of family money back of Jack, and +that he had recently come in for something handsome. + +But this story did not deceive Major Fairfax, whose business it was to +know to a dot the standing of everybody in society, in which he was a +sort of oracle and privileged favorite. No one could tell exactly how +the Major lived; no one knew the rigid economy that he practiced; no one +had ever seen his small dingy chamber in a cheap lodging-house. The name +of Fairfax was as good as a letter of introduction in the metropolis, and +the Major had lived on it for years, on that and a carefully nursed +little income--an habitue of the club, and a methodical cultivator of the +art of dining out. A most agreeable man, and perhaps the wisest man in +his generation in those things about which it would be as well not to +know anything. + +Seated one afternoon in his favorite corner for street observation, by +the open window, with the evening paper in his hand, in the attitude of +one expecting the usual five o'clock cocktail, he hailed Jack, who was +just coming down-stairs from a protracted lunch. + +"I say, Delancy, what's this I hear?" + +"About what?" said Jack, sauntering along to a seat opposite the Major, +and touching a bell on the little table as he sat down. Jack's face was +flushed, but he talked with unusual slowness and distinctness. "What +have you heard, Major?" + +"That you have bought Benham's yacht." + +"No, I haven't; but I was turning the thing over in my mind," Jack +replied, with the air of a man declining an appointment in the Cabinet. +"He offers it cheap." + +"My dear boy, there is no such thing as a cheap yacht, any more than +there is a cheap elephant." + +"It's better to buy than build," Jack insisted. "A man's got to have +some recreation." + +"Recreation! Why don't you charter a Fifth Avenue stage and take your +friends on a voyage to the Battery? That'll make 'em sick enough." It +was a misery of the Major's life that, in order to keep in with necessary +friends, he had to accept invitations for cruises on yachts, and pretend +he liked it. Though he had the gout, he vowed he would rather walk to +Newport than go round Point Judith in one of those tipping tubs. He had +tried it, and, as he said afterwards, "The devil of it was that Mrs. +Henderson and Miss Tavish sympathized with me. Gad! it takes away a +person's manhood, that sort of thing." + +The Major sipped his bitters, and then added: "Or I'll tell you what; if +you must do something, start a newspaper--the drama, society, and +letters, that sort of thing, with pictures. I heard Miss Tavish say she +wished she had a newspaper." + +"But," said Jack, with gravity, "I'm not buying a yacht for Miss Tavish." + +"I didn't suppose you were. Devilish fine girl, though. I don't care +who you buy it for if you don't buy it for yourself. Why don't you buy +it for Henderson? He can afford it." + +"I'd like to know what you mean, Major Fairfax!" cried Jack. "What +business--" + +"There!" exclaimed the Major, sinking back in his chair, with a softened +expression in his society beaten face. "It's no use of nonsense, Jack. +I'm an average old sinner, and I'm not old enough yet to like a milksop. +But I've known you since you were so high, and I knew your father; he +used to stay weeks on my plantation when we were both younger. And your +mother--that was a woman!--did me a kindness once when I was in a d---d +tight place, and I never forgot it. See here, Jack, if I had money +enough I'd buy a yacht and put Carmen and Miss Tavish on it, and send +them off on the longest voyage there is." + +"Who's been talking?" exclaimed Jack, touched a little, but very much +offended. + +"The town, Jack. Don't mind the talk. People always talk. I suppose +people talk about me: At your age I should have been angry too at a hint +even from an old friend. But I've learned. It doesn't pay. I don't get +angry any more. Now there's Henderson--" + +"What have you got against Henderson?" + +"Nothing. He is a very good fellow, for that sort of man. But, Lord! +Henderson is a big machine. You might as well try to stand in with a +combination of gang-saws, or to make friends with the Department of the +Interior. Look at the men who have gone in with Henderson from time to +time. The ground is strewn with them. He's got no more feeling in +business than a reaper-and-binder." + +"I don't know what Henderson's got to do with my having a yacht." + +"I beg your pardon, Jack; it's none of my business. Only I do not put my +investments"--Jack smiled faintly, as if the conversation were taking a +humorous turn--"at the mercy of Henderson's schemes. If I did, I +wouldn't try to run a yacht at the same time. I should be afraid that +some day when I got to sea I should find myself out of coal. You know, +my boy, that the good book says you cannot serve two masters." + +"Nobody ever accused you of that, Major," retorted Jack, with a laugh. +"But what two have you in mind?" + +"Oh, I don't mean anything personal. I just use names as typical. Say +Henderson and Carmen." And the Major leaned back and tapped his fingers +together, as if he were putting a general proposition. + +Jack flushed, and then thought a moment--it would be ridiculous to get +angry with old Fairfax--and then said: "Major, if I were you, I wouldn't +have anything to do with either of them. You'll spoil your digestion." + +"Umph!" the Major grunted, as he rose from his chair. "This is an age of +impudence. There's no more respect for gray hair than if it were dyed. +I cannot waste any more time on you. I've got an early dinner. Devilish +uphill work trying to encourage people who dine at seven. But, my boy, +think on these things, as the saint says." + +And the old fellow limped away. There was one good thing about the +Major. He stood up in church every Sunday and read his prayers, like a +faithful old sinner as he was. + +Jack, sobered by the talk, walked home in a very irritated mood, blaming +everybody except himself. For old Fairfax's opinion he didn't care, but +evidently the old fellow represented a lot of gossip. He wished people +would mind their own business. His irritation was a little appeased by +Edith's gay and loving greeting; but she, who knew every shade of his +face, saw it. + +"Have you had a worrying day?" + +"No; not specially. I've had an hour of old Fairfax, who hasn't any +business of his own to attend to." + +"Oh, nobody minds the Major," Edith said, as she gave him a shake and +another kiss; but a sharp pang went through her heart, for she guessed +what had happened, since she had had a visit that afternoon from another +plain-speaking person. + +They were staying late in town. Edith, who did not care to travel far, +was going presently to a little cottage by the sea, and Mrs. Schuyler +Blunt had looked in for a moment to say good-by before she went up to her +Lenox house. + +"It's only an old farmhouse made over," Mrs. Blunt was saying; "hardly +smart enough to ask anybody to, but we hope to have you and Jack there +some time." + +"That would be very nice. I hear Lenox is more beautiful than ever." + +"Yes, it is, and about as difficult to get into as the kingdom of heaven. +It's being spoiled for moderate people. The Hendersons and the Van Dams +and that sort are in a race to see who shall build houses with the +biggest rooms, and give the most expensive entertainments. It's all +show. The old flavor has gone." + +"But they cannot spoil the scenery.". + +"My child, they are the scenery. You can't see anything else. It +doesn't bother me, but some of my old neighbors are just ruining +themselves trying to keep the pace. I do think the Americans are the +biggest fools on earth." + +"Father Damon says the trouble is we haven't any middle class for a +balance." + +"Yes, that's the English of it. But it's a pity that fashion has got +hold of the country, and is turning our summers into a worry and a +burden. I thought years ago when we went to Lenox that it was a good +thing the country was getting to be the fashion; but now it's +fashionable, and before we know it every desirable spot will be what they +call syndicated. Miss Tavish says she is coming to visit the Hendersons +there." + +"I thought she went to Bar Harbor." + +"But she is coming down for part of the season. These people don't stay +anywhere. Just long enough in one place to upset everything with their +extravagance. That's the reason I didn't ask you and Jack up this +summer." + +"Thank you, we couldn't go, you know," said Edith, simply, and then, with +curiosity in her eyes, asked; "but I don't quite understand what's the +reason." + +"Well," said Mrs. Blunt, as if nerving herself up to say what must be +said, "I thought perhaps you wouldn't like to be where they are." + +"I don't know why I should or why I should not," Edith replied. + +"Nor have Jack with them," continued Mrs. Blunt, stoutly. + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Blunt?" cried Edith, her brown eyes flaming. + +"Don't turn on me, Edith dear. I oughtn't to have said anything. But I +thought it was my duty. Of course it is only talk." + +"Well?" + +"That Jack is always with one or the other of those women." + +"It is false!" cried Edith, starting up, with tears now in her eyes; +"it's a cruel lie if it means anything wrong in Jack. So am I with those +women; so are you. It's a shame. If you hear any one say such things, +you can tell them for me that I despise them." + +"I said it was a shame, all such talk. I said it was nonsense. But, +dear, as a friend, oughtn't I to tell you?" And the kind-hearted gossip +put her arm round Edith, and kept saying that she perfectly understood +it, and that nobody really meant anything. But Edith was crying now, +with a heart both hurt and indignant. + +"It's a most hateful world, I know," Mrs, Blunt answered; "but it's the +best we have, and it's no use to fret about it." + +When the visitor had gone, Edith sat a long time in misery. It was the +first real shock of her married life. And in her heart she prayed. For +Jack? Oh no. The dear girl prayed for herself, that suspicions might +not enter her heart. She could not endure that the world should talk +thus of him. That was all. And when she had thought it all over and +grown calm, she went to her desk and wrote a note to Carmen. It asked +Mrs. Henderson, as they were so soon to leave town, to do her the favor +to come round informally and lunch with her the next day, and afterwards +perhaps a little drive in the Park. + + + + +X + +Jack was grateful for Edith's intervention. He comprehended that she had +stepped forward as a shield to him in the gossip about Carmen. He showed +his appreciation in certain lover-like attentions and in a gayety of +manner, but it was not in his nature to feel the sacrifice she had made +or its full magnanimity; he was relieved, and in a manner absolved. +Another sort of woman might have made him very uncomfortable. Instead of +being rebuked he had a new sense of freedom. + +"Not one woman in a thousand would have done it," was the comment of +Major Fairfax when he heard of the drive in the Park. "Gad! most of 'em +would have cut Carmen dead and put Jack in Coventry, and then there would +have been the devil to pay. It takes quality, though; she's such a woman +as Jack's mother. If there were not one of them now and then society +would deliquesce." And the Major knew, for his principal experience had +been with a deliquescent society. + +Whether Carmen admired Mrs. Delancy or thought her weak it is impossible +to say, but she understood the advances made and responded to them, for +they fell in perfectly with her social plans. She even had the face to +eulogize Mrs. Delancy to Jack, her breadth of view, her lack of +prejudice, and she had even dared to say, "My dear friend, she is too +good for us," and Jack had not protested, but with a laugh had accepted +the implication of his position on a lower moral level. Perhaps he did +not see exactly what it meant, this being on confidential terms about his +wife with another woman; all he cared for at the moment was that the +comradeship of Miss Tavish and Carmen was agreeable to him. They were no +restraint upon him. So long as they remained in town the exchange of +civilities was kept up. Carmen and Miss Tavish were often at his house, +and there was something reassuring to Jack in the openness with which +affairs went on. + +Early in June Edith went down to their rented cottage on the south Long +Island shore. In her delicate health the doctor had recommended the +seaside, and this locality as quiet and restful, and not too far from the +whirl of the city. The place had a charm of its own, the charm, namely, +of a wide sky, illimitable, flashing, changing sea, rolling in from the +far tropical South with its message of romance to the barren Northern +shore, and the pure sand dunes, the product of the whippings of tempests +and wild weather. The cottage was in fact an old farmhouse, not an +impertinent, gay, painted piece of architecture set on the sand like a +tent for a month, but a solid, ugly, fascinating habitation, with barns +and outhouses, and shrubs, and an old garden--a place with a salty air +friendly to delicate spring blossoms and summer fruits and foliage. +If it was a farmhouse, the sea was an important part of the farm, and the +low-ceiled rooms suggested cabins; it required little imagination to +fancy that an East-Indian ship had some time come ashore and settled in +the sand, that it had been remodeled and roofed over, and its sides +pierced with casement windows, over which roses had climbed in order to +bind the wanderer to the soil. It had been painted by the sun and the +wind and the salt air, so that its color depended upon the day, and it +was sometimes dull and almost black, or blue-black, under a lowering sky, +and again a golden brown, especially at sunset, and Edith, feeling its +character rather than its appearance to ordinary eyes, had named it the +Golden House. Nature is such a beautiful painter of wood. + +With Edith went one of her Baltimore cousins, a young kindergarten +teacher of fine intelligence and sympathetic manner, who brought to her +work a long tradition of gentle breeding and gayety and simplicity-- +qualities which all children are sure to recognize. What a hopeful thing +it is, by-the-way, in the world, that all conditions of people know a +lady at sight! Jack found the place delightful. He liked its +quaintness, the primitiveness of the farmer-fisherman neighbors, he liked +the sea. And then he could run up to the city any morning and back at +night. He spent the summer with Edith at the Golden House. This was his +theory. When he went to town in the morning he expected to return at +night. But often he telegraphed in the afternoon that he was detained by +business; he had to see Henderson, or Mavick was over from Washington. +Occasionally, but not often, he missed the train. He had too keen a +sense of the ridiculous to miss the train often. When he was detained +over for two or three days, or the better part of the week, he wrote +Edith dashing, hurried letters, speaking of ever so many places he had +been to and ever so many people he had seen--yes, Carmen and Miss Tavish +and everybody who was in town, and he did not say too much about the hot +city and its discomforts. + +Henderson's affairs kept him in town, Miss Tavish still postponed Bar +Harbor, and Carmen willingly remained. She knew the comfort of a big New +York house when the season is over, when no social duties are required, +and one is at leisure to lounge about in cool costumes, to read or dream, +to open the windows at night for the salt breeze from the bay, to take +little excursions by boat or rail, to dine al fresco in the garden of +some semi-foreign hotel, to taste the unconventional pleasures of the +town, as if one were in some foreign city. She used to say that New York +in matting and hollands was almost as nice as Buda-Pesth. These were +really summer nights, operatic sorts of nights, with music floating in +the air, gay groups in the streets, a stage imitation of nature in the +squares with the thick foliage and the heavy shadows cast on the asphalt +by the electric lights, the brilliant shops, the nonsense of the summer +theatres, where no one expected anything, and no one was disappointed, +the general air of enjoyment, and the suggestion of intrigue. Sometimes, +when Mavick was over, a party was made up for the East Side, to see the +foreign costumes, the picturesque street markets, the dime museums, and +the serious, tragical theatres of the people. The East Side was left +pretty much to itself, now that the winter philanthropists had gone away, +and was enjoying its summer nights and its irresponsible poverty. + +They even looked in at Father Damon's chapel, the dimly lighted fragrant +refuge from the world and from sin. Why not? They were interested in +the morals of the region. Had not Miss Tavish danced for one of the +guilds; and had not Carmen given Father Damon a handsome check in support +of his mission? It was so satisfactory to go into such a place and see +the penitents kneeling here and there, the little group of very plainly +dressed sinners attracted by Father Damon's spiritual face and unselfish +enthusiasm. Carmen said she felt like kneeling at one of the little +boxes and confessing--the sins of her neighbors. And then the four- +Carmen, Miss Tavish, Mavick, and Jack--had a little supper at Wherry's, +which they enjoyed all the more for the good action of visiting the East +Side--a little supper which lasted very late, and was more and more +enjoyed as it went on, and was, in fact, so gay that when the ladies were +set down at their houses, Jack insisted on dragging Mavick off to the +Beefsteak Club and having something manly to drink; and while they drank +he analyzed the comparative attractions of Carmen and Miss Tavish; he +liked that kind of women, no nonsense in them; and presently he wandered +a little and lost the cue of his analysis, and, seizing Mavick by the +arm, and regarding him earnestly, in a burst of confidence declared that, +notwithstanding all appearances, Edith was the dearest girl in the world. + +It was at this supper that the famous society was formed, which the +newspapers ridiculed, and which deceived so many excellent people in New +York because it seemed to be in harmony with the philanthropic endeavor +of the time, but which was only an expression of the Mephistophelian +spirit of Carmen--the Society for Supplying Two Suspenders to Those who +have only One. + +By the end of June there was no more doubt about the heat of the town +than about its odors. The fashionable residence part was dismantled and +deserted. At least miles and miles of houses seemed to be closed. +Few carriages were seen in this quarter, the throngs of fashion had +disappeared, comparatively few women were about, and those that appeared +in the Sunday promenade were evidently sight-seers and idlers from other +quarters; the throng of devotees was gone from the churches, and indeed +in many of them services were suspended till a more convenient season. +The hotels, to be sure, were full of travelers, and the club-houses had +more habitues than usual, and were more needed by the members whose +families had gone into the country. + +Notwithstanding the silence and vacation aspect of up-town, the public +conveyances were still thronged, and a census would have shown no such +diminution of population as seemed. Indeed, while nobody was in town, +except accidentally, the greater portion of it presented a more animated +appearance than usual, especially at night, on account of the open +windows, the groups on door-steps and curb-stones, and the restless +throng in the streets-buyers and sellers and idlers. To most this +outdoor life was a great enjoyment, and to them the unclean streets with +the odors and exhalations of decay were homelike and congenial. Nor did +they seem surprised that a new country should so completely reproduce the +evil smells and nastiness of the old civilization. It was all familiar +and picturesque. Work still went on in the crowded tenement-houses, and +sickness simply changed its character, death showing an increased +friendliness to young children. Some impression was of course made by +the agents of various charities, the guilds and settlements bravely +strove at their posts, some of the churches kept their flags flying on +the borders of the industrial districts, the Good Samaritans of the +Fresh-air Fund were active, the public dispensaries did a thriving +business, and the little band of self-sacrificing doctors, most of them +women, went their rounds among the poor, the sick, and the friendless. + +Among them Ruth Leigh was one who never took a vacation. There was no +time for it. The greater the heat, the more noisome the town, the more +people became ill from decaying food and bad air and bad habits, the more +people were hungry from improvidence or lack of work, the more were her +daily visits a necessity; and though she was weary of her monotonous +work, and heart-sick at its small result in such a mass, there never came +a day when she could quit it. She made no reputation in her profession +by this course; perhaps she awoke little gratitude from those she served, +and certainly had not so much of their confidence as the quacks who +imposed upon them and took their money; and she was not heartened much by +hope of anything better in this world or any other; and as for pay, if +there was enough of that to clothe her decently, she apparently did not +spend it on herself. + +It was, in short, wholly inexplicable that this little woman should +simply go about doing good, without any ulterior purpose whatever, not +even notoriety. Did she love these people? She did not ever say +anything about that. In the Knights of Labor circle, and in the little +clubs for the study of social questions, which she could only get leisure +to attend infrequently, she was not at all demonstrative about any +religion of humanity. Perhaps she simply felt that she was a part of +these people, and that whether they rejected her or received her, there +was nothing for her to do but to give herself to them. She would +probably have been surprised if Father Damon had told her that she was in +this following a great example, and there might have been a tang of +agnostic bitterness in her reply. When she thought of it the condition +seemed to her hopeless, and the attitude of what was called civilization +towards it so remorseless and indifferent, and that of Christianity so +pharisaical. If she ever lost her temper, it was when she let her mind +run in this nihilistic channel, in bitterness against the whole social +organization, and the total outcome of civilization so far as the mass of +humanity is concerned. + +One day Father Damon climbed up to the top of a wretched tenement in +Baxter Street in search of a German girl, an impulsive and pretty girl of +fifteen, whom he had missed for several days at the chapel services. +He had been in the room before. It was not one of the worst, for though +small and containing a cook-stove, a large bed, and a chest of drawers, +there was an attempt to make it tidy. In a dark closet opening out from +it was another large bed. As he knocked and opened the door, he saw that +Gretchen was not at home. Her father sat in a rocking-chair by an open +window, on the sill of which stood a pot of carnations, the Easter gift +of St. George's, a wax-faced, hollow-eyed man of gentle manners, who +looked round wearily at the priest. The mother was washing clothes in a +tub in one corner; in another corner was a half-finished garment from a +slop-shop. The woman alternated the needle at night and the tub in the +daytime. Seated on the bed, with a thin, sick child in her arms, was Dr. +Leigh. As she looked up a perfectly radiant smile illuminated her +usually plain face, an unworldly expression of such purity and happiness +that she seemed actually beautiful to the priest, who stopped, +hesitating, upon the threshold. + +"Oh, you needn't be afraid to come in, Father Damon," she cried out; "it +isn't contagious--only rash." + +Father Damon, who would as readily have walked through a pestilence as in +a flower-garden, only smiled at this banter, and replied, after speaking +to the sick man, and returning in German the greeting of the woman, who +had turned from the tub, "I've no doubt you are disappointed that it +isn't contagious!" And then, to the mother: "Where is Gretchen? She +doesn't come to the chapel." + +"Nein," replied the woman, in a mixture of German and English, "it don't +come any more in dot place; it be in a shtore now; it be good girl." + +"What, all day?" + +"Yaas, by six o'clock, and abends so spate. Not much it get, but my man +can't earn nothing any more." And the woman, as she looked at him, wiped +her eyes with the corner of her apron. + +"But, on Sunday?" Father Damon asked, still further. + +"Vell, it be so tired, and goed up by de Park with Dick Loosing and dem +oder girls." + +"Don't you think it better, Father Damon," Dr. Leigh interposed, "that +Gretchen should have fresh air and some recreation on Sunday?" + +"Und such bootiful tings by de Museum," added the mother. + +"Perhaps," said he, with something like a frown on his face, and then +changed the subject to the sick child. He did not care to argue the +matter when Dr. Leigh was present, but he resolved to come again and +explain to the mother that her daughter needed some restraining power +other than her own impulse, and that without religious guidance she was +pretty certain to drift into frivolous and vulgar if not positively bad +ways. The father was a free-thinker; but Father Damon thought he had +some hold on the mother, who was of the Lutheran communion, but had +followed her husband so far as to become indifferent to anything but +their daily struggle for life. Yet she had a mother's instinct about the +danger to her daughter, and had been pleased to have her go to Father +Damon's chapel. + +And, besides, he could not bring himself in that presence to seem to +rebuke Ruth Leigh. Was she not practically doing what his Lord did-- +going about healing the sick, sympathizing with the poor and the +discouraged, taking upon herself the burden of the disconsolate, +literally, without thought of self, sharing, as it were, the misery and +sin of this awful city? And today, for the first time, he seemed to have +seen the woman in her--or was it the saint? and he recalled that +wonderful illumination of her plain face that made her actually beautiful +as she looked up from the little waif of humanity she held in her arms. +It had startled him, and struck a new chord in his heart, and planted a +new pang there that she had no belief in a future life. + +It did not occur to him that the sudden joy in her face might have been +evoked by seeing him, for it was a long time since she had seen him. Nor +did he think that the pang at his heart had another cause than religious +anxiety. Ah, priest and worldly saint, how subtle and enduring are the +primal instincts of human nature! + +"Yes," he said, as they walked away, in reply to her inquiry as to his +absence, "I have been in retreat a couple of weeks." + +"I suppose," she said, softly, "you needed the rest; though," and she +looked at him professionally, "if you will allow me to say it, it seems +to me that you have not rested enough." + +"I needed strength"--and it was the priest that spoke--" in meditation +and prayer to draw upon resources not my own." + +"And in fasting, too, I dare say," she added, with a little smile. + +"And why not?" he asked. + +"Pardon me," she said; "I don't pretend to know what you need. I need to +eat, though Heaven knows it's hard enough to keep up an appetite down +here. But it is physical endurance you need for the work here. Do you +think fasting strengthens you to go through your work night and day?" + +"I know I couldn't do it on my own strength." And Dr. Leigh recalled +times when she had seen him officiating in the chapel apparently +sustained by nothing but zeal and pure spirit, and wondered that he did +not faint and fall. And faint and fall he did, she was sure, when the +service was over. + +"Well, it may be necessary to you, but not as an example to these people. +I see enough involuntary fasting." + +"We look at these people from different points of view, I fear." And +after a moment he said: "But, doctor, I wanted to ask you about Gretchen. +You see her?" + +"Occasionally. She works too many hours, but she seems to be getting on +very well, and brings her mother all she earns." + +"Do you think she is able to stand alone?" + +Dr. Leigh winced a little at this searching question, for no one knew +better than she the vulgarizing influence of street life and chance +associations upon a young girl, and the temptations. She was even forced +to admit the value in the way of restraint, as a sort of police force, +of the church and priestly influence, especially upon girls at the +susceptible age. But she knew that Father Damon meant something more +than this, and so she answered: + +"But people have got to stand alone. She might as well begin." + +"But she is so young." + +"Yes, I know. She is in the way of temptation, but so long as she works +industriously, and loves her mother, and feels the obligation, which the +poor very easily feel, of doing her share for the family, she is not in +so much moral danger as other girls of her age who lead idle and self- +indulgent lives. The working-girls of the city learn to protect +themselves." + +"And you think this is enough, without any sort of religion--that this +East Side can go on without any spiritual life?" + +Ruth Leigh made a gesture of impatience. In view of the actual struggle +for existence she saw around her, this talk seemed like cant. And she +said: + +"I don't know that anything can go on. Let me ask you a question, Father +Damon. Do you think there is any more spirituality, any more of the +essentials of what you call Christianity, in the society of the other +side than there is on the East Side?" + +"It is a deep question, this of spirituality," replied Father Damon, who +was in the depths of his proselyting action a democrat and in sympathy +with the people, and rated quite at its full value the conventional +fashion in religion. "I shouldn't like to judge, but there is a great +body of Christian men and women in this city who are doing noble work." + +"Yes," replied the little doctor, bitterly, "trying to save themselves. +How many are trying to save others--others except the distant and foreign +sinners?" + +"You surely cannot ignore," replied the father, still speaking mildly, +"the immense amount of charitable work done by the churches!" + +"Yes, I know; charity, charity, the condescension of the rich to the +poor. What we want are understanding, fellowship, and we get alms! +If there is so much spirituality as you say, and Christianity is what you +say it is today, how happens it that this side is left in filth and +misery and physical wretchedness? You know what it is, and you know the +luxury elsewhere. And you think to bridge over the chasm between classes +with flowers, in pots, yes, and Bible-readers and fashionable visitors +and little aid societies--little palliatives for an awful state of +things. Why, look at it! Last winter the city authorities hauled off +the snow and the refuse from the fashionable avenues, and dumped it down +in the already blockaded and filthy side streets, and left us to struggle +with the increased pneumonia and diphtheria, and general unsanitary +conditions. And you wonder that the little nihilist groups and labor +organizations and associations of agnostics, as you call them, meeting to +study political economy and philosophy, say that the existing state of +things has got to be overturned violently, if those who have the power +and the money continue indifferent." + +"I do not wonder," replied Father Damon, sadly. "The world is evil, and I +should be as despairing as you are if I did not know there was another +life and another world. I couldn't bear it. Nobody could." + +"And all you've got to offer, then, to this mass of wretchedness, +poverty, ignorance, at close quarters with hunger and disease, is to grin +and bear it, in hope of a reward somewhere else!" + +"I think you don't quite--" + +The doctor looked up and saw a look of pain on the priest's face. + +"Oh," she hastened to say, almost as impetuously as she had spoken +before, "I don't mean you--I don't mean you. I know what you do. Pardon +me for speaking so. I get so discouraged sometimes." They stood still a +moment, looking up and down the hot, crowded, odorful street they were +in, with its flaunting rags of poverty and inefficiency. "I see so +little result of what I can do, and there is so little help." + +"I know," said the father, as they moved along. "I don't see how you +can bear it alone." + +This touched a sore spot, and aroused Ruth Leigh's combativeness. +It seemed to her to approach the verge of cant again. But she knew the +father's absolute sincerity; she felt she had already said too much; and +she only murmured, as if to herself, "If we could only know." And then, +after a moment, she asked, "Do you, Father Damon, see any sign of +anything better here?" + +"Yes, today." And he spoke very slowly and hesitatingly. "If you will +excuse the personality of it. When I entered that room today, and saw +you with that sick child in your arms, and comprehended what it all +meant, I had a great wave of hope, and I knew, just then, that there is +coming virtue enough in the world to redeem it." + +Ruth was confounded. Her heart seemed to stand still, and then the hot +blood flowed into her face in a crimson flood. "Ah," escaped from her +lips, and she walked on more swiftly, not daring to look up. This from +him! This recognition from the ascetic father! If one of her dispensary +comrades had said it, would she have been so moved? + +And afterwards, when she had parted from him, and gone to her little +room, the hot flush again came to her neck and brow, and she saw his +pale, spiritual face, and could hear the unwonted tenderness of his +voice. Yes, Father Damon had said it of her. + + + + +XI + +The question has been very much discussed whether the devil, in temperate +latitudes, is busier in the summer or in the winter. When Congress and +the various State legislatures are in session, and the stock and grain +exchanges are most active, and society is gayest, and the churches and +benevolent and reformatory associations are most aggressive--at this +season, which is the cool season, he seems to be most animated and +powerful. + +But is not this because he is then most opposed? The stream may not flow +any faster because it is dammed, but it exhibits at the obstructed points +greater appearance of agitation. Many people are under the impression +that when they stop fighting there is a general truce: There is reason to +believe that the arch enemy is pleased with this impression, that he +likes a truce, and that it is his best opportunity, just as the weeds in +the garden, after a tempest, welcome the sun and the placidity of the +elements. It is well known that in summer virtue suffers from inertia, +and that it is difficult to assemble the members of any vigilant +organization, especially in cities, where the flag of the enemy is never +lowered. But wherever the devil is there is always a quorum present for +business. It is not his plan to seek an open fight, and many observers +say that he gains more ground in summer than in any other season, and +this notwithstanding people are more apt to lose their tempers, and even +become profane, in the aggravations of what is known as spring than at +any other time. The subject cannot be pursued here, but there is ground +for supposing that the devil prefers a country where the temperature is +high and pretty uniform. + +At any rate, it is true that the development of character is not arrested +by any geniality or languor of nature. By midsummer the Hendersons were +settled in Lenox, where the Blunts had long been, and Miss Tavish and her +party of friends were at Bar Harbor. Henderson was compelled to be in +the city most of the time, and Jack Delancy fancied that business +required his presence there also; but he had bought a yacht, and +contemplated a voyage, with several of the club men, up the Maine coast. +"No, I thank you," Major Fairfax had said; "I know an easier way to get +to Bar Harbor." + +Jack was irritable and restless, to be sure, in the absence of the sort +of female society he had become accustomed to; but there were many +compensations in his free-and-easy bachelor life, in his pretense of +business, which consisted in watching the ticker, as it is called, +in an occasional interview with Henderson, and in the floating summer +amusements of the relaxed city. There was nothing unusual in this life +except that he needed a little more stimulation, but this was not strange +in the summer, and that he devoted more time to poker--but everybody +knows that a person comes out about even in the game of poker if he keeps +at it long enough--there was nothing unusual in this, only it was giving +Jack a distaste for the quiet and it seemed to him the restraint of the +Golden House down by the sea. And he was more irritable there than +elsewhere. It is so difficult to estimate an interior deterioration of +this sort, for Jack was just as popular with his comrades as ever, and +apparently more prosperous. + +It is true that Jack had had other ideas when he was courting Edith +Fletcher, and at moments, at any rate, different aspirations from any he +had now. With her at that time there had been nobler aspirations about +life. But now she was his wife. That was settled. And not only that, +but she was the best woman he knew; and if she were not his wife, he +would spare no effort to win her. He felt sure of that. He did not put +it to himself in the way an Oriental would do, "That is finished"; but it +was an act done--a good act--and here was his world again, with a hundred +interests, and there were people besides Edith to be thought of, other +women and men, and affairs. Because a man was married, was he to be shut +up to one little narrow career, that of husband? Probably it did not +occur to him that women take a different view of this in the singleness +of their purpose and faith. Edith, for instance, knew or guessed that +Jack had no purpose in life that was twenty-four hours old; but she had +faith--and no amount of observation destroys this faith in women--that +marriage would inspire him with energy and ambition to take a man's place +in the world. + +With most men marriage is un fait accompli. Jack had been lucky, but +there was, no doubt, truth in an observation of Mavick's. One night as +they sat at the club Jack had asked him a leading question, apropos of +Henderson's successful career: "Mavick, why don't you get married?" +"I have never," he replied, with his usual cynical deliberation, "been +obliged to. The fact is, marriage is a curb-bit. Some horses show off +better with it, and some are enraged and kick over the traces. I cannot +decide which I would be." + +"That's true enough," said Jack, "from a bachelor's point of view of +independence, but it's really a question of matching." + +"The most difficult thing in the world--in horses. Just about impossible +in temperament and movement, let alone looks. Most men are lucky if they +get, like Henderson, a running mate." + +"I see," said Jack, who knew something about the Henderson household, +"your idea of a pair is that they should go single." + +Mavick laughed, and said something about the ideas of women changing so +much lately that nobody could tell what the relation of marriage would +become, and Jack, who began to feel that he was disloyal, changed the +subject. To do him justice, he would have been ashamed for Edith to hear +this sort of flippant and shallow talk, which wouldn't have been at all +out of place with Carmen or Miss Tavish. + +"I wanted to ask you, Mavick, as a friend, do you think Henderson is +square?" + +"How square?" + +"Well, safe?" + +"Nobody is safe. Henderson is as safe as anybody. You can rely on what +he says. But there's a good deal he doesn't say. Anything wrong?" + +"Not that I know. I've been pretty lucky. But the fact is, I've gone in +rather deep." + +"Well, it's a game. Henderson plays it, as everybody does, for himself. +I like Henderson. He plays to win, and generally does. But, you know, +if one man wins, somebody else has got to lose in this kind of industry." + +"But Henderson looks out for his friends?" + +"Yes--when it doesn't cost too much. Times may come when a man has to +look out for himself. Wealth isn't made out of nothing. There must be +streams into the reservoir. These great accumulations of one--you can +see that--must be made up of countless other men's small savings. +There's Uncle Jerry. He operates a good deal with Henderson, and they'd +incline to help each other out. But Uncle Jerry says he's got a small +pond of his own, and he's careful not to connect it with Henderson's +reservoir." + +"What do you think of Missouri?" + +"What do I think of the Milky Way? It doesn't much matter to me what +becomes of Missouri, unless Henderson should happen to get smashed in it, +and that isn't what he is there for. But when you look at the +combinations, and the dropping-off of roads that have been drained, +and the scaling down in refunding, and the rearranging, and the strikes, +how much chance do you think the small fry stand? I don't doubt that +Henderson will make a big thing out of it, and there will be lots of +howling by those who were not so smart, and the newspapers will say that +Henderson was too strong for them. What we respect nowadays are +adroitness and strength." + +"It's an exciting game," Mavick continued, after a moment's pause. +"Let me know if you get uneasy. But I'll tell you what it is, Jack; +if I had a comfortable income, I wouldn't risk it in any speculation. +There is a good deal that is interesting going on in this world, and I +like to be in it; but the best plan for a man who has anything is, as +Uncle Jerry says, to sail close and salt down." + +The fact was that Mavick's connection with Henderson was an appreciable +addition to his income, and it was not a bad thing for Henderson. +Mavick's reputation for knowing the inside of everything and being close- +mouthed actually brought him confidences; that which at first was a +clever assumption became a reality, and his reputation was so established +for being behind the scenes that he was not believed when he honestly +professed ignorance of anything. His modest disclaimer merely increased +the impression that he was deep. Henderson himself had something of the +Bismarck trait of brutal, contemptuous frankness. Mavick was never +brutal and never contemptuous, but he had a cynical sort of frankness, +which is a good deal more effectual in a business way than the oily, +plausible manner which on 'Change, as well as in politics, is distrusted +as hypocrisy. Now Uncle Jerry Hollowell was neither oily nor frank; he +was long-headed and cautious, and had a reputation for shrewdness and +just enough of plasticity of conscience to remove him out of the list of +the impracticable and over-scrupulous. This reputation that business men +and politicians acquire would be a very curious study. The world is very +complacent, and apparently worships success and votes for smartness, +but it would surprise some of our most successful men to know what a real +respect there is in the community, after all, for downright integrity. + +Even Jack, who fell into the current notion of his generation of young +men that the Henderson sort of morality was best adapted to quick +success, evinced a consciousness of want of nobility in the course he was +pursuing by not making Edith his confidante. He would have said, of +course, that she knew nothing about business, but what he meant was that +she had a very clear conception of what was honest. All the evidences of +his prosperity, shown in his greater freedom of living, were sore trials +to her. She belonged to that old class of New-Yorkers who made trade +honorable, like the merchants of Holland and Venice, and she knew also +that Jack's little fortune had come out of honest toil and strict +business integrity. Could there be any happiness in life in any other +course? + +It seemed cruel to put such a problem as this upon a young woman hardly +yet out of girlhood, in the first flush of a new life, which she had +dreamed should be so noble and high and so happy, in the period which is +consecrated by the sweetest and loveliest visions and hopes that ever +come into a woman's life. + +As the summer wore on to its maximum of heat and discomfort in the city, +Edith, who never forgot to measure the hardships of others by her own +more fortunate circumstances, urged Dr. Leigh to come away from her +labors and rest a few days by the sea. The reply was a refusal, but +there was no complaint in the brief business-like note. One might have +supposed that it was the harvest-time of the doctor, if he had not known +that she gathered nothing for herself. There had never been so much +sickness, she wrote, and such an opportunity for her. She was learning a +great deal, especially about some disputed contagious diseases. She +would like to see Mrs. Delancy, and she wouldn't mind a breath of air +that was more easily to be analyzed than that she existed in, but nothing +could induce her to give up her cases. All that appeared in her letter +was her interest in her profession. + +Father Damon, who had been persuaded by Edith's urgency to go down with +Jack for a few days to the Golden House, seemed uncommonly interested in +the reasons of Dr. Leigh's refusal to come. + +"I never saw her," he said, "so cheerful. The more sickness there is, +the more radiant she is. I don't mean," he added, laughing, "in apparel. +Apparently she never thinks of herself, and positively she seems to take +no time to eat or sleep. I encounter her everywhere. I doubt if she +ever sits down, except when she drops in at the mission chapel now and +then, and sits quite unmoved on a bench by the door during vespers." + +"Then she does go there?" said Edith. + +"That is a queer thing. She would promptly repudiate any religious +interest. But I tell her she is a bit of a humbug. When I speak about +her philanthropic zeal, she says her interest is purely scientific." + +"Anyway, I believe," Jack put in, "that women doctors are less mercenary +than men. I dare say they will get over that when the novelty of coming +into the profession has worn off." + +"That is possible," said Father Damon; "but that which drives women into +professions now is the desire to do something rather than the desire to +make something. Besides, it is seldom, in their minds, a finality; +marriage is always a possibility." + +"Yes," replied Edith, "and the probability of having to support a husband +and family; then they may be as mercenary as men are." + +"Still, the enthusiasm of women," Father Damon insisted, "in hospital and +outdoor practice, the singleness of their devotion to it, is in contrast +to that of the young men-doctors. And I notice another thing in the +city: they take more interest in philanthropic movements, in the +condition of the poor, in the labor questions; they dive eagerly into +philosophic speculations, and they are more aggressively agnostics. +And they are not afraid of any social theories. I have one friend, +a skillful practitioner they tell me, a linguist, and a metaphysician, +a most agreeable and accomplished woman, who is in theory an extreme +nihilist, and looks to see the present social and political order upset." + +"I don't see," Jack remarked, "what women especially are to gain by such +a revolution." + +"Perhaps independence, Jack," replied Edith. "You should hear my club of +working-girls, who read and think much on these topics, talk of these +things." + +"Yes," said Father Damon, "you toss these topics about, and discuss them +in the magazines, and fancy you are interested in socialistic movements. +But you have no idea how real and vital they are, and how the dumb +discontent of the working classes is being formulated into ideas. +It is time we tried to understand each other." + +Not all the talk was of this sort at the Golden House. There were three +worlds here--that of Jack, to which Edith belonged by birth and tradition +and habit; that of which we have spoken, to which she belonged by +profound sympathy; and that of Father Damon, to which she belonged by +undefined aspiration. In him was the spiritual element asserting itself +in a mediaeval form, in a struggle to mortify and deny the flesh and yet +take part in modern life. Imagine a celibate and ascetic of the +fifteenth century, who knew that Paradise must be gained through poverty +and privation and suffering, interesting himself in the tenement-house +question, in labor leagues, and the single tax. + +Yet, hour after hour, in those idle summer days, when nature was in a +mood that suggested grace and peace, when the waves lapsed along the +shore and the cicada sang in the hedge, did Father Damon unfold to Edith +his ideas of the spiritualization of modern life through a conviction of +its pettiness and transitoriness. How much more content there would be +if the poor could only believe that it matters little what happens here +if the heart is only pure and fixed on the endless life. + +"Oh, Father Damon," replied Edith, with a grave smile, "I think your +mission ought to be to the rich." + +"Yes," he replied, for he also knew his world, "if I wanted to make my +ideas fashionable; but I want to make them operative. By-and-by," he +added, also with a smile, "we will organize some fishermen and carpenters +and tailors on a mission to the rich." + +Father Damon's visit was necessarily short, for his work called him back +to town, and perhaps his conscience smote him a little for indulging in +this sort of retreat. By the middle of August Jack's yacht was ready, +and he went with Mavick and the Van Dams and some other men of the club +on a cruise up the coast. Edith was left alone with her Baltimore +friend. + +And yet not alone. As she lay in her hammock in those dreamy days a new +world opened to her. It was not described in the chance romance she took +up, nor in the volume of poems she sometimes held in her hand, with a +finger inserted in the leaves. Of this world she felt herself the centre +and the creator, and as she mused upon its mysteries, life took a new, +strange meaning to her. It was apt to be a little hazy off there in the +watery horizon, and out of the mist would glide occasionally a boat, +and the sun would silver its sails, and it would dip and toss for half an +hour in the blue, laughing sea, and then disappear through the mysterious +curtain. Whence did it come? Whither had it gone? Was life like that? +Was she on the shore of such a sea, and was this new world into which she +was drifting only a dream? By her smile, by the momentary illumination +that her sweet thoughts made in her lovely, hopeful face, you knew that +it was not. Who can guess the thoughts of a woman at such a time? Are +the trees glad in the spring, when the sap leaps in their trunks, and the +buds begin to swell, and the leaves unfold in soft response to the +creative impulse? The miracle is never old nor commonplace to them, nor +to any of the human family. The anticipation of life is eternal. The +singing of the birds, the blowing of the south wind, the sparkle of the +waves, all found a response in Edith's heart, which leaped with joy. And +yet there was a touch of melancholy in it all, the horizon was so vast, +and the mist of uncertainty lay along it. Literature, society, +charities, all that she had read and experienced and thought, was nothing +to this, this great unknown anxiety and bliss, this saddest and sweetest +of all human experiences. She prayed that she might be worthy of this +great distinction, this responsibility and blessing. + +And Jack, dear Jack, would he love her more? + + + + +XII + +Although Father Damon had been absent from his charge only ten days, it +was time for him to return. If he had not a large personal following, he +had a wide influence. If comparatively few found their way to his +chapel, he found his way to many homes; his figure was a familiar one in +the streets, and his absence was felt by hundreds who had no personal +relations with him, but who had be come accustomed to seeing him go about +on his errands of encouragement, and probably had never realized how much +the daily sight of him had touched them. The priestly dress, which may +once have provoked a sneer at his effeminacy, had now a suggestion of +refinement, of unselfish devotion, of consecration to the service of the +unfortunate, his spiritual face appealed to their better natures, and the +visible heroism that carried his frail figure through labors that would +have worn out the stoutest physique stirred in the hearts of the rudest +some comprehension of the reality of the spirit. + +It may not have occurred to them that he was of finer clay than they-- +perhaps he was not--but his presence was in their minds a subtle +connection and not a condescending one, rather a confession of +brotherhood, with another world and another view of life. They may not +have known that their hearts were stirred because he had the gift of +sympathy. + +And was it an unmanly trait that he evoked in men that sentiment of +chivalry which is never wanting in the roughest community for a pure +woman? Wherever Father Damon went there was respect for his purity and +his unselfishness, even among those who would have been shamefaced if +surprised in any exhibition of softness. + +And many loved him, and many depended on him. Perhaps those who most +depended on him were the least worthy, and those who loved him most were +least inclined to sacrifice their own reasonable view of life to his own +sublimated spiritual conception. It was the spirit of the man they +loved, and not the creed of the priest. The little chapel in its subdued +lights and shadows, with confessionals and crosses and candles and +incense, was as restful a refuge as ever to the tired and the dependent; +but wanting his inspiring face and voice, it was not the same thing, and +the attendance always fell away when he was absent. There was needed +there more than elsewhere the living presence. + +He was missed, and the little world that missed him was astray. The +first day of his return his heart was smitten by the thinness of the +congregation. Had he, then, accomplished nothing; had he made no +impression, established in his shifting flock no habit of continuance in +well-doing that could survive even his temporary withdrawal? The fault +must be his. He had not sufficiently humiliated and consecrated himself, +and put under all strength of the flesh and trust in worldly +instrumentalities. There must be more prayer, more vigils, more fasting, +before the power would come back to him to draw these wandering minds to +the light. And so in the heat of this exhausting August, at the time +when his body most needed re-enforcement for the toil he required of it, +he was more rigid in his spiritual tyranny and contempt of it. + +Ruth Leigh was not dependent upon Father Damon, but she also learned how +long ten days could be without a sight of him. When she looked into his +chapel occasionally she realized, as never before, how much in the air +his ceremonies and his creed were. There was nothing there for her +except his memory. And she knew when she stepped in there, for her cool, +reasoning mind was honest, that it was the thought of him that drew her +to the place, and that going there was a sentimental indulgence. What +she would have said was that she admired, loved Father Damon on account +of his love for humanity. It was a common saying of all the professional +women in her set, and of the working-girls, that they loved Father Damon. +It is a comfort to women to be able to give their affection freely where +conventionalities and circumstances make the return of it in degree +unlikely. + +At the close of a debilitating day Dr. Leigh found herself in the +neighborhood of the mission chapel. She was tired and needed to rest +somewhere. She knew that Father Damon had returned, but she had not seen +him, and a double motive drew her steps. The attendance was larger than +it had been recently, and she found a stool in a dark corner, and +listened, with a weary sort of consciousness of the prayers and the +singing, but not without a deeper feeling of peace in the tones of a +voice every inflection of which she knew so well. It seemed to her that +the reading cost him an effort, and there was a note of pathos in the +voice that thrilled her. Presently he advanced towards the altar rail-- +he was accustomed to do this with his little flock--and placing one hand +on the lectern, began to speak. + +At first, and this was not usual, he spoke about himself in a strain of +sincere humility, taking blame upon himself for his inability to do +effectively the great service his Master had set him to do. He meant to +have given himself more entirely to the dear people among whom he +labored; he hoped to show himself more worthy of the trust they had given +him; he was grateful for the success of his mission, but no one knew so +well as he how far short it came of being what he ought to have made it. +He knew indeed how weak he was, and he asked the aid of their sympathy +and encouragement. It seemed to be with difficulty that he said this, +and to Ruth's sympathetic ear there was an evidence of physical +exhaustion in his tone. There was in it, also, for her, a confession of +failure, the cry of the preacher, in sorrow and entreaty, that says, +"I have called so long, and ye would not listen." + +As he went on, still with an effort and feebly, there came over the +little group a feeling of awe and wonderment, and the silence was +profound. Still steadying himself by the reading-desk, he went on to +speak of other things, of those of his followers who listened, of the +great mass swirling about them in the streets who did not listen and did +not care; of the little life that now is so full of pain and hardship and +disappointment, of good intentions frustrated, of hopes that deceive, +and of fair prospects that turn to ashes, of good lives that go wrong, of +sweet natures turned to bitterness in the unaided struggle. His voice +grew stronger and clearer, as his body responded to the kindling theme in +his soul. He stepped away from the desk nearer the rail, the bowed head +was raised. "What does it matter?" he said. "It is only for a little +while, my children." Those who heard him that day say that his face +shone like that of an angel, and that his voice was like a victorious +clarion, so clear, so sweet, so inspiring, as he spoke of the life that +is to come, and the fair certainty of that City where he with them all +wished to be. + +As he closed, some were kneeling, many were crying; all, profoundly +moved, watched him as, with the benediction and the sign of the cross, he +turned and walked swiftly to the door of the sacristy. It opened, and +then Ruth Leigh heard a cry, "Father Damon! Father Damon!" and there was +a rush into the chancel. Hastening through the throng, which promptly +made way for the doctor, she found Father Damon lying across the +threshold, as he had fallen, colorless and unconscious. She at once took +command of the situation. The body was lifted to the plain couch in the +room, a hasty examination was made of pulse and heart, a vial of brandy +was produced from her satchel, and messengers were despatched for things +needed, and especially for beef-tea. + +"Is he dead, Dr. Leigh? Is he any better, doctor? What is the matter, +doctor?" + +"Want of nourishment," replied Dr. Leigh, savagely. + +The room was cleared of all except a couple of stout lads and a friendly +German woman whom the doctor knew. The news of the father's sudden +illness had spread rapidly, with the report that he had fallen dead while +standing at the altar; and the church was thronged, and the street +rapidly blocked up with a hushed crowd, eager for news and eager to give +aid. So great was the press that the police had to interfere, and push +back the throng from the door. It was useless to attempt to disperse it +with the assurance that Father Damon was better; it patiently waited to +see for itself. The sympathy of the neighborhood was most impressive, +and perhaps the thing that the public best remembers about this incident +is the pathetic solicitude of the people among whom Father Damon labored +at the rumor of his illness, a matter which was greatly elaborated by the +reporters from the city journals and the purveyors of telegraphic news +for the country. + +With the application of restoratives the patient revived. When he opened +his eyes he saw figures in the room as in a dream, and his mind struggled +to remember where he was and what had happened; but one thing was not a +dream: Dr. Leigh stood by his bedside, with her left hand on his brow +and the right grasping his own right hand, as if to pull him back to +life. He saw her face, and then he lost it again in sheer weariness at +the effort. After a few moments, in a recurring wave of strength, he +looked up again, still bewildered, and said, faintly: + +"Where am I?" + +"With friends," said the doctor. "You were a little faint, that is all; +you will be all right presently." + +She quickly prepared some nourishment, which was what he most needed, and +fed him from time to time, as he was able to receive it. Gradually he +could feel a little vigor coming into his frame; and regaining control of +himself, he was able to hear what had happened. Very gently the doctor +told him, making light of his temporary weakness. + +"The fact is, Father Damon," she said, "you've got a disease common in +this neighborhood--hunger." + +The father smiled, but did not reply. It might be so. For the time he +felt his dependence, and he did not argue the point. This dependence +upon a woman--a sort of Sister of Charity, was she not?--was not +altogether unpleasant. When he attempted to rise, but found that he was +too weak, and she said "Not yet," he submitted, with the feeling that to +be commanded with such gentleness was a sort of luxury. + +But in an hour's time he declared that he was almost himself again, +and it was decided that he was well enough to be removed to his own +apartments in the neighborhood. A carriage was sent for, and the +transfer was made, and made through a crowd in the streets, which stood +silent and uncovered as his carriage passed through it. Dr. Leigh +remained with him for an hour longer, and then left him in charge +of a young gentleman from the Neighborhood Guild, who gladly volunteered +to watch for the night. + +Ruth walked slowly home, weary now that the excitement was over, and +revolving many things in her mind, as is the custom of women. She heard +again that voice, she saw again that inspired face; but the impression +most indelible with her was the prostrate form, the pallid countenance, +the helplessness of this man whose will had before been strong enough to +compel the obedience of his despised body. She had admired his strength; +but it was his weakness that drew upon her woman's heart, and evolved a +tenderness dangerous to her peace of mind. Yet it was the doctor and not +the woman that replied to the inquiries at the dispensary. + +"Yes, it was fasting and overwork. Men are so stupid; they think they +can defy all the laws of nature, especially priests." And she determined +to be quite plain with him next day. + +And Father Damon, lying weary in his bed, before he fell asleep, saw the +faces in the dim chapel turned to him in strained eagerness the moment +before he lost consciousness; but the most vivid image was that of a +woman bending over him, with eyes of tenderness and pity, and the smile +with which she greeted his awakening. He could feel yet her hand upon +his brow. + +When Dr. Leigh called next day, on her morning rounds, she found a +brother of the celibate order, Father Monies, in charge. He was sitting +by the window reading, and when the doctor came up the steps he told her +in a low voice to enter without knocking. Father Damon was better, much +better; but he had advised him not to leave his bed, and the patient had +been dozing all the morning. The doctor asked if he had eaten anything, +and how much. The apartment was small and scantily furnished--a sort of +anchorite cell. Through the drawn doors of the next room the bed was in +sight. As they were talking in low voices there came from this room a +cheerful: + +"Good-morning, doctor." + +"I hope you ate a good breakfast," she said, as she arose and went to his +bedside. + +"I suppose you mean better than usual," he replied, with a faint attempt +at a smile. "No doubt you and Father Monies are satisfied, now you've +got me laid up." + +"That depends upon your intentions." + +"Oh, I intend to get up tomorrow." + +"If you do, without other change in your intentions, I am going to report +you to the Organized Charity as a person who has no visible means of +support." + +She had brought a bunch of violets, and as they talked she had filled a +glass with water and put them on a stand by the head of the bed. Then-- +oh, quite professionally--she smoothed out his pillows and straightened +the bedclothes, and, talking all the time, and as if quite unconscious of +what she was doing, moved about the room, putting things to rights, and +saying, in answer to his protest, that perhaps she should lose her +reputation as a physician in his eyes by appearing to be a professional +nurse. + +There was a timid knock at the door, and a forlorn little figure, clad in +a rumpled calico, with an old shawl over her head, half concealing an +eager and pretty face, stood in the doorway, and hesitatingly came in. + +"Meine Mutter sent me to see how Father Damon is," she explained; "she +could not come, because she washes." + +She had a bunch of flowers in her hand, and encouraged by the greeting of +the invalid, she came to the bedside and placed them in his outstretched +hand--a faded blossom of scarlet geranium, a bachelor's button, and a +sprig of parsley, probably begged of a street dealer as she came along. +"Some blooms," she said. + +"Bless you, my dear," said Father Damon; "they are very pretty." + +"Dey smells nice," the child exclaimed, her eyes dancing with pleasure at +the reception of her gift. She stood staring at him, and then, her eye +catching the violets, she added, "Dose is pooty, too." + +"If you can stay half an hour or so, I should like to step round to the +chapel," Father Monies said to the doctor in the front room, taking up +his hat. + +The doctor could stay. The little girl had moved a chair up to the +bedside, and sat quite silent, her grimy little hand grasped in the +father's. Ruth, saying that she hoped the father wouldn't mind, began to +put in order the front room, which the incidents of the night had +somewhat disturbed. Father Damon, holding fast by that little hand to +the world of poverty to which he had devoted his life, could not refrain +from watching her, as she moved about with the quick, noiseless way that +a woman has when she is putting things to rights. This was indeed a +novel invasion of his life. He was still too weak to reason about it +much. How good she was, how womanly! And what a sense of peace and +repose she brought into his apartment! The presence of Brother Monies +was peaceful also, but hers was somehow different. His eyes had not +cared to follow the brother about the room. He knew that she was +unselfish, but he had not noticed before that her ways were so graceful. +As she turned her face towards him from time to time he thought its +expression beautiful. Ruth Leigh would have smiled grimly if any one had +called her beautiful, but then she did not know how she looked sometimes +when her feelings were touched. It is said that the lamp of love can +illumine into beauty any features of clay through which it shines. As he +gazed, letting himself drift as in a dream, suddenly a thought shot +through his mind that made him close his eyes, and such a severe priestly +look came upon his face that the little girl, who had never taken her +eyes off him, exclaimed: + +"It is worse?" + +"No, my dear," he replied, with a reassuring smile; "at least, I hope +not." + +But when the doctor, finishing her work, drew a chair into the doorway, +and sat by the foot of his bed, the stern look still remained on his pale +face. And the doctor, she also was the doctor again, as matter of fact +as in any professional visit. + +"You are very kind," he said. + +There was a shade of impatience on her face as she replied, "But you must +be a little kind to yourself." + +"It doesn't matter." + +"But it does matter. You defeat the very work you want to do. I'm going +to report you to your order." And then she added, more lightly, "Don't +you know it is wrong to commit suicide?" + +"You don't understand," he replied. "There is more than one kind of +suicide; you don't believe in the suicide of the soul. Ah, me!" And a +shade of pain passed over his face. + +She was quick to see this. "I beg your pardon, Father Damon. It is none +of my business, but we are all so anxious to have you speedily well +again." + +Just then Father Monies returned, and the doctor rose to go. She took +the little girl by the hand and said, "Come, I was just going round to +see your father. Good-by. I shall look in again tomorrow." + +"Thank you--thank you a thousand times. But you have so much to do that +you must not bother about me." + +Whether he said this to quiet his own conscience, secretly hoping that he +might see her again on the morrow, perhaps he himself could not have +decided. + +Late the next afternoon, after an unusually weary round of visits, made +in the extreme heat and in a sort of hopeless faithfulness, Dr. Leigh +reached the tenement in which Father Damon lodged: In all the miserable +scenes of the day it had been in her mind, giving to her work a pleasure +that she did not openly acknowledge even to herself, that she should see +him. + +The curtains were down, and there was no response to her knock, except +from a door in the passage opposite. A woman opened the door wide enough +to show her head and to make it evident that she was not sufficiently +dressed to come out, and said that Father Damon had gone. He was very +much better, and his friend had taken him up-town. Dr. Leigh thanked +her, and said she was very glad. + +She was so glad that, as she walked away, scarcely heeding her steps or +conscious of the chaffing, chattering crowd, all interest in her work and +in that quarter of the city seemed dead. + + + + +XIII + +It is well that there is pleasure somewhere in the world. It is possible +for those who have a fresh-air fund of their own to steam away in a +yacht, out of the midsummer ennui and the weary gayety of the land. +It is a costly pleasure, and probably all the more enjoyed on that +account, for if everybody had a yacht there would be no more feeling of +distinction in sailing one than in going to any of the second-rate +resorts on the coast. There is, to be sure, some ennui in yachting on a +rainy coast, and it might be dull but for the sensation created by +arrivals at watering-places and the telegraphic reports of these +sensations. + +If there was any dullness on the Delancy yacht, means were taken to +dispel it. While still in the Sound a society was formed for the +suppression of total abstinence, and so successful was this that Point +Judith was passed, in a rain and a high and chopping sea, with a kind of +hilarious enjoyment of the commotion, which is one of the things desired +at sea. When the party came round to Newport it declared that it had had +a lovely voyage, and inquiry brought out the great general principle, +applicable to most coast navigation for pleasure, that the enjoyable way +to pass Point Judith is not to know you are passing Point Judith. + +Except when you land, and even after you have got your sea-legs on, there +is a certain monotony in yachting, unless the weather is very bad, and +unless there are women aboard. A party of lively women make even the sea +fresh and entertaining. Otherwise, the game of poker is much what it is +on land, and the constant consulting of charts and reckoning of speed +evince the general desire to get somewhere--that is, to arrive at a +harbor. In the recollections of this voyage, even in Jack's +recollections of it after he had paid the bills, it seemed that it had +been simply glorious, free from care, generally a physical setting-up +performance, and a lark of enormous magnitude. And everybody envied the +fortunate sailors. + +Mavick actually did enjoy it, for he had that brooding sort of nature, +that self-satisfied attitude, that is able to appropriate to its own uses +whatever comes. And being an unemotional and very tolerable sailor, +he was able to be as cynical at sea as on land, and as much of an oracle, +in his wholly unobtrusive way. The perfect personal poise of Mavick, +which gave him an air of patronizing the ocean, and his lightly held +skeptical view of life, made his company as full of flavor on ship as it +was on shore. He didn't know anything more about the weather than the +Weather Bureau knows, yet the helmsman of the yacht used to consult him +about the appearances of the sky and a change of wind with a confidence +in his opinion that he gave to no one else on board. And Mavick never +forfeited this respect by being too positive. It was so with everything; +he evidently knew a great deal more than he cared to tell. It is +pleasing to notice how much credit such men as Mavick obtain in the world +by circumspect reticence and a knowing manner. Jack, blundering along in +his free-hearted, emotional way, and never concealing his opinion, was +really right twice where Mavick was right once, but he never had the +least credit for wisdom. + +It was late in August that the Delancy yacht steamed into the splendid +Bar Harbor, making its way slowly through one of the rare fogs which are +sometimes seen by people who do not own real estate there. Even before +they could see an island those on board felt the combination of mountain +and sea air that makes this favored place at once a tonic and a sedative +to the fashionable world. + +The party were expected at Bar Harbor. It had been announced that the +yacht was on its way, and some of the projected gayeties were awaiting +its coming, for the society reenforcement of the half-dozen men on board +was not to be despised. The news went speedily round that Captain +Delancy's flag was flying at the anchorage off the landing. + +Among the first to welcome them as they landed and strolled up to the +hotel was Major Fairfax. + +"Oh yes," he said; "we are all here--that is, all who know where they +ought to be at the right moment." + +To the new-comers the scene was animated. The exotic shops sparkled with +cheap specialties; landaus, pony-phaetons, and elaborate buckboards +dashed through the streets; aquatic and law-tennis costumes abounded. +If there was not much rowing and lawn-tennis, there was a great deal of +becoming morning dressing for these sports, and in all the rather aimless +idleness there was an air of determined enjoyment. Even here it was +evident that there was a surplus of women. These lovers of nature, in +the summer season, who had retired to this wild place to be free from the +importunities of society, betrayed, Mavick thought, the common instinct +of curiosity over the new arrival, and he was glad to take it as an +evidence that they loved not nature less but man more. Jack tripped up +this ungallant speech by remarking that if Mavick was in this mood he did +not know why he came ashore. And Van Dam said that sooner or later all +men went ashore. This thin sort of talk was perhaps pardonable after the +weariness of a sea voyage, but the Major promptly said it wouldn't do. +And the Major seemed to be in charge of the place. + +"No epigrams are permitted. We are here to enjoy ourselves. I'm ordered +to bring the whole crew of you to tea at the Tavish cottage." + +"Anybody else there?" asked Jack, carelessly. + +"Well, it's the most curious coincidence, but Mrs. Henderson arrived last +night; Henderson has gone to Missouri." + +"Yes, he wrote me to look out for his wife on this coast," said Mavick. + +"You kept mighty still about it," said Jack. + +"So did you," retorted Mavick. + +"It is very curious," the Major explained, "how fashionable intelligence +runs along this coast, apparently independent of the telegraph; everybody +knows where everybody else is." + +The Tavish cottage was a summer palace of the present fashion, but there +was one good thing about it: it had no tower, nor any make-believe +balconies hung on the outside like bird-cages. The rooms were spacious, +and had big fireplaces, and ample piazzas all round, so that the sun +could be courted or the wind be avoided at all hours of the day. It was, +in short, not a house for retirement and privacy, but for entertainment. +It was furnished luxuriously but gayly, and with its rugs and portieres +and divans it reminded Mavick of an Oriental marquee. Miss Tavish called +it her tepee, an evolution of the aboriginal dwelling. She liked to +entertain, and she never appeared to better advantage than when her house +was full, and something was going on continually-lively breakfasts and +dinners, dances, theatricals, or the usual flowing in and out of callers +and guests, chattering groups, and flirtatious couples. It was her idea +of repose from the winter's gayety, and in it she sustained the role of +the non-fatigueable society girl. It is a performance that many working- +girls regard with amazement. + +There was quite a flutter in the cottage, as there always is when those +who know each other well meet under new circumstances after a short +separation. + +"We are very glad to see you," Miss Tavish said, cordially; "we have been +awfully dull." + +"That is complimentary to me," said the Major. + +"You can judge the depths we have been in when even the Major couldn't +pull us out," she retorted. "Without him we should have simply died." + +"And it would have been the liveliest obsequies I ever attended." + +Carmen was not effusive in her greeting; she left that role to Miss +Tavish, taking for herself that of confidential friend. She was almost +retiring in her manner, but she made Jack feel that she had a strong +personal interest in his welfare, and she asked a hundred questions about +the voyage and about town and about Edith. + +"I'm going to chaperon you up here," she said, "for Miss Tavish will lead +you into all sorts of wild adventures." + +There was that in the manner of the demure little woman when she made +this proposal that convinced Jack that under her care he would be +perfectly safe--from Miss Tavish. + +After cigarettes were lighted she contrived to draw Mavick away to the +piazza. She was very anxious to know what Henderson's latest moves were. +Mavick was very communicative, and told her nothing that he knew she did +not already know. And she was clever enough to see, without any apparent +distrust, that whatever she got from him must be in what he did not say. +As to Jack's speculations, she made little more progress. Jack gave +every sign of being prosperous; he entertained royally on his yacht. + +Mavick himself was puzzled to know whether Carmen really cared for Jack, +or whether she was only interested as in a game, one of the things that +amused her life to play, to see how far he would go, and to watch his +ascension or his tumble. Mavick would have been surprised if he had +known that as a result of this wholly agreeable and confidential talk, +Carmen wrote that night in a letter to her husband: + +"Your friend Mavick is here. What a very clever man he is! If I were +you I would keep an eye on him." + +A dozen plans were started at the tea for relieving the tedium of the +daily drives and the regulation teas and receptions. For one thing, +weather permitting, they would all breakfast at twelve on the yacht, and +then sail about the harbor, and come home in the sunset. + +The day was indeed charming, so stimulating as to raise the value of real +estate, and incite everybody to go off in search of adventure, in wagons, +in walking parties, in boats. There is no happiness like the +anticipation of pleasure begot by such a morning. Those who live there +said it was regular Bar Harbor weather. + +Captain Delancy was on deck to receive his guests, who came out in small +boats, chattering and fluttering and "ship-ahoying," as gay in spirits as +in apparel. Anything but high spirits and nonsense would be unpardonable +on such a morning. Breakfast was served on deck, under an awning, in +sight of the mountains, the green islands, the fringe of breaking sea in +the distant opening, the shimmer and sparkle of the harbor, the white +sails of pleasure-boats, the painted canoes, the schooners and coal-boats +and steamers swinging at anchor just enough to make all the scene alive. +"This is my idea," said the Major, "of going to sea in a yacht; it would +be perfect if we were tied up at the dock." + +"I move that we throw the Major overboard," cried Miss Tavish. + +"No," Jack exclaimed; "it is against the law to throw anything into the +harbor." + +"Oh, I expected Miss Tavish would throw me overboard when Mavick +appeared." + +Mavick raised his glass and proposed the health of Miss Tavish. + +"With all my heart," the Major said; "my life is passed in returning good +for evil." + +"I never knew before," and Miss Tavish bowed her acknowledgments, "the +secret of the Major's attractions." + +"Yes," said Carmen, sweetly, "he is all things to all women." + +"You don't appear to have a friend here, Major," Mavick suggested. + +"No; my friends are all foul-weather friends; come a bright day, they are +all off like butterflies. That comes of being constant." + +"That's no distinction," Carmen exclaimed; "all men are that till they +get what they want." + +"Alas! that women also in these days here become cynical! It was not so +when I was young. Here's to the ever young," and he bowed to Carmen and +Miss Tavish. + +"He's been with Ponce de Leon!" cried Miss Tavish. + +"He's the dearest man living, except a few," echoed Carmen. "The Major's +health." + +The yellow wine sparkled in the glasses like the sparkling sea, the wind +blew softly from the south, the sails in the bay darkened and flashed, +and the breakfast, it seemed to go along of itself, and erelong the +convives were eating ambrosia and sipping nectar. Van Dam told a shark +story. Mavick demonstrated its innate improbability. The Major sang a +song--a song of the forties, with a touch of sentiment. Jack, whose +cheerful voice was a little of the cider-cellar order, and who never sang +when he was sad, struck up the latest vaudeville ditty, and Carmen and +Miss Tavish joined in the chorus. + +"I like the sea," the Major declared. They all liked it. The breakfast +lasted a long time, and when they rose from the table Jack said that +presently they would take a course round the harbor. The Major remarked +that that would suit him. He appeared to be ready to go round the world. + +While they were preparing to start, Carmen and Jack strolled away to the +bow, where she perched herself, holding on by the rigging. He thought he +had never seen her look so pretty as at that moment, in her trim nautical +costume, sitting up there, swinging her feet like a girl, and regarding +him with half-mocking, half-admiring eyes. + +What were they saying? Heaven only knows. What nonsense do people so +situated usually talk? Perhaps she was warning him against Miss Tavish. +Perhaps she was protesting that Julia Tavish was a very, very old friend. +To an observer this admirable woman seemed to be on the defensive--her +most alluring attitude. It was not, one could hear, exactly sober talk; +there was laughter and raillery and earnestness mingled. It might be +said that they were good comrades. Carmen professed to like good +comradeship and no nonsense. But she liked to be confidential. + +Till late in the afternoon they cruised about among the islands, getting +different points of view of the coast, and especially different points of +view of each other, in the freedom of talk and repartee permitted on an +excursion. Before sunset they were out in the open, and could feel the +long ocean swell. The wind had risen a little, and there was a low band +of clouds in the south. The skipper told Mr. Delancy that it would be +much fresher with the sinking of the sun, but Jack replied that it +wouldn't amount to anything; the glass was all right. + + "Now the great winds shoreward blow; + Now the salt tides seaward flow; + Now the wild white horses play, + Champ and chafe and toss in the spray." + +Miss Tavish was in the wheel-house, and had taken the wheel. This clever +girl knew her right hand from her left, instantly, without having to stop +and think and look at her rings, and she knew what port and starboard +meant, as orders, and exactly how to meet a wave with a turn of the +wheel. + +"I say, Captain Delancy," she cried out, "the steamer is about due. +Let's go down and meet her, and race in." + +"All right," replied Jack. "We can run round her three times and then +beat her in." + +The steamer's smoke was seen at that instant, and the yacht was headed +for it. The wind was a little fresher, but the tight little craft took +the waves like a duck, and all on board enjoyed the excitement of the +change, except the Major, who said he didn't mind, but he didn't believe +the steamer needed any escort. + +By the time the steamer was reached the sun was going down in a band of +clouds. There was no gale, but the wind increased in occasional puffs of +spite, and the waves were getting up. The skipper took the wheel to turn +the yacht in a circle to her homeward course. As this operation created +strange motions, and did not interest the Major, he said he would go +below and reflect. + +In turning, the yacht came round on the seaward side of the steamer, but +far behind. But the little craft speedily showed her breeding and +overhauled her big rival, and began to forge ahead. The little group on +the yacht waved their handkerchiefs as if in good-by, and the passengers +on the steamer cheered. As the wind was every moment increasing, the +skipper sheered away to allow plenty of sea-room between the boats. The +race appeared to be over. + +"It's a pity," said Miss Tavish. + +"Let's go round her," said Jack; "eh, skipper?" + +"If you like, sir," responded the skipper. "She can do it." + +The yacht was well ahead, but the change in the direction brought the +vessels nearer together. But there was no danger. The speed they were +going would easily bring her round away ahead of the steamer. + +But just then something happened. The yacht would not answer to her +helm. The wheel flew around without resistance. The wind, hauled now +into the east, struck her with violence and drove her sideways. The +little thing was like a chip on the sea. The rudder-chain had broken. +The yacht seemed to fly towards the long, hulking steamer. The danger +was seen there, and her helm was put hard down, and her nose began to +turn towards the shore. But it was too late. It seemed all over in an +instant. The yacht dashed bow on to the side of the steamer, quivered an +instant, and then dropped away. At the same moment the steamer slowed +down and began to turn to assist the wounded. + +The skipper of the yacht and a couple of hands rushed below. A part of +the bow had been carried away and a small hole made just above the +waterline, through which the water spurted whenever she encountered a +large wave. It was enough to waterlog her and sink her in such a sea. +The two seamen grasped whatever bedding was in reach below, rammed it +into the opening, and held it there. The skipper ran on deck, and by the +aid of the men hauled out a couple of sails and dropped them over the +bow. These would aid in keeping out the water. They could float now, +but where were they going? "Going ashore," said Mavick, grimly. And so +they were. + +"Was there a panic on board?" it was asked afterwards. Not exactly. +Among well-bred people a panic is never good form. But there were white +faces and trembling knees and anxious looks. The steamer was coming +towards them, and all eyes were fixed on that rather than on the rocks of +the still distant shore. + +The most striking incident of the moment--it seemed so to some of those +who looked back upon it--was a singular test of character, or rather of +woman's divination of character. Carmen instinctively flew to Jack and +grasped and held his arm. She knew, without stopping to reason about it, +that he would unhesitatingly imperil his life to save that of any woman. +Whatever judgment is passed upon Jack, this should not be forgotten. +And Miss Tavish; to whom did she fly in this peril? To the gallant +Major? No. To the cool and imperturbable Mavick, who was as strong and +sinewy as he was cool? No. She ran without hesitation to Van Dam, and +clung to him, recognizing instinctively, with the woman's feeling, the +same quality that Jack had. There are such men, who may have no great +gifts, but who will always fight rather than run under fire, and who will +always protect a woman. + +Mavick saw all this, and understood it perfectly, and didn't object to it +at the time--but he did not forget it. + +The task of rescue was not easy in that sea and wind, but it was +dexterously done. The steamer approached and kept at a certain distance +on the windward side. A boat was lowered, and a line was brought to the +yacht, which was soon in tow with a stout cable hitched to the steamer's +anchor windlass. + +It was all done with much less excitement than appeared from the +telegraphic accounts, and while the party were being towed home the peril +seemed to have been exaggerated, and the affair to look like an ordinary +sea incident. But the skipper said that it was one escape in a hundred. + +The captain of the steamer raised his hat gravely in reply to the little +cheer from the yacht, when Carmen and Miss Tavish fluttered their +handkerchiefs towards him. The only chaff from the steamer was roared +out by a fat Boston man, who made a funnel of his hands and shouted, "The +race is not always to the swift." + +As soon as Jack stepped ashore he telegraphed to Edith that the yacht had +had an accident in the harbor, but that no one was hurt. When he reached +the hotel he found a letter from Edith of such a tenor that he sent +another despatch, saying that she might expect him at once, leaving the +yacht behind. There was a buzz of excitement in the town, and there were +a hundred rumors, which the sight of the yacht and its passengers landed +in safety scarcely sufficed to allay. + +When Jack called at the Tavish cottage to say good-by, both the ladies +were too upset to see him. He took a night train, and as he was whirled +away in the darkness the events of the preceding forty-eight hours seemed +like a dream. Even the voyage up the coast was a little unreal--an +insubstantial episode in life. And the summer city by the sea, with its +gayety and gossip and busy idleness, sank out of sight like a phantom. +He drew his cap over his eyes, and was impatient that the rattling train +did not go faster, for Edith, waiting there in the Golden House, seemed +to stretch out her arms for him to come. Still behind him rose a picture +of that bacchanalian breakfast--the Major and Carmen and Mavick and Miss +Tavish dancing a reel on the sloping deck, then the rising wind, the +reckless daring of the race, and a vision of sudden death. He shuddered +for the first time in a quick realization of how nearly it came to being +all over with life and its pleasures. + + + + +XIV + +Edith had made no appeal to Jack to come home. His going, therefore, had +the merit m his eyes of being a voluntary response to the promptings of +his better nature. Perhaps but for the accident at Mount Desert he might +have felt that his summer pleasure was needlessly interfered with, but +the little shock of that was a real, if still temporary, moral turning- +point for him. For the moment his inclination seemed to run with his +duty, and he had his reward in Edith's happiness at his coming, the +loving hunger in her eyes, the sweet trust that animated her face, the +delightful appropriation of him that could scarcely brook a moment's +absence from her sight. There could not be a stronger appeal to his +manhood and his fidelity. + +"Yes, Jack dear, it was a little lonesome." She was swinging in her +hammock on the veranda in sight of the sea, and Jack sat by her with his +cigar. "I don't mind telling you now that there were times when I longed +for you dreadfully, but I was glad, all the same, that you were enjoying +yourself, for it is tiresome down here for a man with nothing to do but +to wait." + +"You dear thing!" said Jack, with his hand on her head, smoothing her +glossy hair and pushing it back from her forehead, to make her look more +intellectual--a thing which she hated. "Yes, dear, I was a brute to go +off at all." + +"But you wanted to comeback?" And there was a wistful look in her eyes. + +"Indeed I did," he answered, fervently, as he leaned over the hammock to +kiss the sweet eyes into content; and he was quite honest in the +expression of a desire that was nearly forty-eight hours old, and by a +singular mental reaction seemed to have been always present with him. + +"It was so good of you to telegraph me before I could see the newspaper." + +"Of course I knew the account would be greatly exaggerated;" and he made +light of the whole affair, knowing that the facts would still be capable +of shocking her, giving a comic picture of the Major's seafaring +qualities, and Carmen's and Miss Tavish's chaff of the gallant old beau. + +Even with this light sketching of the event she could not avoid a +retrospective pang of apprehension, and the tightened grasp of his hand +was as if she were holding him fast from that and all other peril. + +The days went by in content, on the whole, shaded a little by anxiety and +made grave by a new interest. It could not well be but that the prospect +of the near future, with its increase of responsibility, should create a +little uneasiness in Jack's mind as to his own career. Of this future +they talked much, and in Jack's attitude towards her Edith saw, for the +first time since her marriage, a lever of suggestion, and it came +naturally in the contemplation of their future life that she should +encourage his discontent at having no occupation. Facing, in this +waiting-time of quiet, certain responsibilities, it was impressed upon +him that the collecting of bric-a-brac was scarcely an occupation, and +that idling in clubs and studios and dangling about at the beck of +society women was scarcely a career that could save him from ultimate +ennui. To be sure, he had plenty of comrades, young fellows of fortune, +who never intended to do anything except to use it for their personal +satisfaction; but they did not seem to be of much account except in the +little circle that they ornamented. Speaking of one of them one day, +Father Damon had said that it seemed a pity a fellow of such family and +capacity and fortune should go to the devil merely for the lack of an +object in life. In this closer communion with Edith, whose ideas he +began to comprehend, Jack dimly apprehended this view, and for the moment +impulsively accepted it. + +"I'm half sorry," he said one day, "that I didn't go in for a profession. +But it is late now. Law, medicine, engineering, architecture, would take +years of study." + +"There was Armstrong," Edith suggested, "who studied law after he was +married." + +"But it looks sort of silly for a fellow who has a wife to go to school, +unless," said Jack, with a laugh, "he goes to school to his wife. Then +there's politics. You wouldn't like to see me in that." + +"I rather think, Jack"--she spoke musingly" if I were a man I should go +into politics." + +"You would have nice company!" + +"But it's the noblest career--government, legislation, trying to do +something to make the world better. Jack, I don't see how the men of New +York can stand it to be governed by the very worst elements." + +"My dear, you have no idea what practical politics is." + +"I've an idea what I'd make it. What is the good of young men of leisure +if they don't do anything for the country? Too fine to do what Hamilton +did and Jay did! I wish you could have heard my father talk about it. +Abdicate their birthright for a four-in-hand!" + +"Or a yacht," suggested Jack. + +"Well, I don't see why a man cannot own a yacht and still care something +about the decent management of his city." + +"There's Mavick in politics." + +"Not exactly. Mavick is in office for what he can make. No, I will not +say that. No doubt he is a good civil servant, and we can't expect +everybody to be unselfish. At any rate, he is intelligent. Do you +remember what Mr. Morgan said last winter?" And Edith lifted herself up +on her elbow, as if to add the weight of her attitude to her words, as +Jack was still smiling at her earnestness. + +"No; you said he was a delightful sort of pessimist." + +"Mr. Morgan said that the trouble with the governing and legislation now +in the United States is that everybody is superficially educated, and +that the people are putting their superficial knowledge into laws, and +that we are going to have a nice time with all these wild theories and +crudities on the statute-book. And then educated people say that +politics is so corrupt and absurd that they cannot have anything to do +with it." + +"And how far do you think we could get, my dear, in the crusade you +propose?" + +"I don't know that you would get anywhere. Yet I should think the young +men of New York could organize its intelligence and do something. But +you think I'm nothing but a woman." And Edith sank back, as if +abandoning the field. + +"I had thought that; but it is hard to tell, these days. Never mind, +when we go back to town I'll stir round; you'll see." + +This was an unusual sort of talk. Jack had never heard Edith break out +in this direction before, and he wondered if many women were beginning to +think of men in this way, as cowardly about their public duties. +Not many in his set, he was sure. If Edith had urged him to go into +Neighborhood Guild work, he could have understood that. Women and +ethical cranks were interested in that. And women were getting queerer +every day, beginning, as Mavick said, to take notice. However, it was +odd, when you thought over it, that the city should be ruled by the +slums. + +It was easy to talk about these things; in fact, Jack talked a great deal +about them in the clubs, and occasionally with a knot of men after dinner +in a knowing, pessimistic sort of way. Sometimes the discussions were +very animated and even noisy between these young citizens. It seemed, +sometimes, about midnight, that something might be done; but the +resolution vanished next morning when another day, to be lived through, +confronted them. They illustrated the great philosophic observation that +it is practically impossible for an idle man who has nothing to do to +begin anything today. + +To do Jack justice, this enforced detention in the country he did not +find dull exactly. To be sure it was vacation-time, and his whole life +was a vacation, and summer was rather more difficult to dispose of than +winter, for one had to make more of an effort to amuse himself. But +Edith was never more charming than in this new dependence, and all his +love and loyalty were evoked in caring for her. This was occupation +enough, even if he had been the busiest man in the world-to watch over +her, to read to her, to anticipate her fancies, to live with her in that +dream of the future which made life seem almost ideal. There came a time +when he looked back upon this month at the Golden House as the happiest +in his life. + +The talk about an occupation was not again referred to. Edith seemed +entirely happy to have Jack with her, more entirely her own than he had +ever been, and to have him just as he was. And yet he knew, by a sure +instinct, that she saw him as she thought he would be, with some aim and +purpose in life. And he made many good resolutions. + +That which was nearest him attracted him most, and very feeble now were +the allurements of the life and the company he had just left. Not that +he would break with it exactly; it was not necessary to do that; but he +would find something to do, something worth a man's doing, or, at any +rate, some occupation that should tax his time and his energies. That, +he knew, would make Edith happy, and to make her happy seemed now very +much like a worthy object in life. She was so magnanimous, so +unsuspicious, so full of all nobility. He knew she would stand by him +whatever happened. Down here her attitude to life was no longer a rebuke +to him nor a restraint upon him. Everything seemed natural and +wholesome. Perhaps his vanity was touched, for there must be something +in, him if such a woman could love him. And probably there was, though +he himself had never yet had a chance to find it out. Brought up in the +expectation of a fortune, bred to idleness as others are to industry, his +highest ambition having been to amuse himself creditably and to take life +easily, what was to hinder his being one of the multitude of "good-for- +nothings" in our modern life? If there had been war, he had spirit +enough to carry him into it, and it would have surprised no one to hear +that Jack had joined an exploring expedition to the North Pole or the +highlands of Central Asia. Something uncommon he might do if opportunity +offered. + +About his operations with Henderson he had never told Edith, and he did +not tell her now. Perhaps she divined it, and he rather wondered that +she had never asked him about his increased expenditures, his yacht, and +all that. He used to look at her steadily at times, as if he were trying +to read the secrets of her heart. + +"What are you looking at, Jack?" + +"To see if I can find out how much you know, you look so wise." + +"Do I? I was just thinking about you. I suppose that made me look so." + +"No; about life and the world generally." + +"Mighty little, Jack, except--well, I study you." + +"Do you? Then you'll presently lose your mind:" + +Jack and most men have little idea that they are windows through which +their wives see the world; and how much more of the world they know in +that way than men usually suspect or wives ever tell! + +He did not tell her about Henderson, but he almost resolved that when his +present venture was over he would let stocks alone as speculations, and +go into something that he could talk about to his wife as he talked about +stocks to Carmen. + +From the stranded mariners at Bar Harbor Captain Jack had many and +facetious letters. They wanted to know if his idea was that they should +stick by the yacht until he got leisure to resume the voyage, or if he +expected them to walk home. He had already given orders to the skipper +to patch it up and bring it to New York if possible, and he advised his +correspondents to stay by the yacht as long as there was anything in the +larder, but if they were impatient, he offered them transportation on any +vessel that would take able-bodied seamen. He must be excused from +commanding, because he had been assigned to shore duty. Carmen and Miss +Tavish wrote that it was unfair to leave them to sustain all the +popularity and notoriety of the shipwreck, and that he owed it to the +public to publish a statement, in reply to the insinuations of the +newspapers, in regard to the sea-worthiness of the yacht and the object +of this voyage. Jack replied that the only object of the voyage was to +relieve the tedium of Bar Harbor, and, having accomplished this, he would +present the vessel to Miss Tavish if she would navigate it back to the +city. + +The golden autumn days by the sea were little disturbed by these echoes +of another life, which seemed at the moment to be a very shallow one. +Yet the time was not without its undertone of anxieties, of grave perils +that seemed to sanctify it and heighten its pleasures of hope. Jack saw +and comprehended for the first time in his life the real nature of a pure +woman, the depths of tenderness and self-abnegation, the heroism and calm +trust and the nobility of an unworldly life. No wonder that he stood a +little in awe of it, and days when he wandered down on the beach, with +only the waves for company, or sat smoking in the arbor, with an unread +book in his hand, his own career seemed petty and empty. Such moods, +however, are not uncommon in any life, and are not of necessity fruitful. +It need not be supposed that Jack took it too seriously, on the one hand, +or, on the other, that a vision of such a woman's soul is ever without +influence. + +By the end of October they returned to town, Jack, and Edith with a new +and delicate attractiveness, and young Fletcher Delancy the most +wonderful and important personage probably who came to town that season. +It seemed to Edith that his advent would be universally remarked, and +Jack felt relieved when the boy was safely housed out of the public gaze. +Yes, to Edith's inexpressible joy it was a boy, and while Jack gallantly +said that a girl would have suited him just as well, he was conscious of +an increased pride when he announced the sex to his friends. This +undervaluation of women at the start is one of the mysteries of life. +And until women themselves change their point of view, it is to be feared +that legislation will not accomplish all that many of them wish. + +"So it is a boy. I congratulate you," was the exclamation of Major +Fairfax the first time Jack went down to the Union. + +"I'm glad, Major, to have your approval." + +"Oh, it's what is expected, that's all. For my part, I prefer girls. +The announcement of boys is more expensive." + +Jack understood, and it turned out in all the clubs that he had hit upon +the most expensive sex in the view of responding to congratulations. + +"It used to seem to me," said the Major, "that I must have a male heir to +my estates. But, somehow, as the years go on, I feel more like being an +heir myself. If I had married and had a boy, he would have crowded me +out by this time; whereas, if it had been a girl, I should no doubt have +been staying at her place in Lenox this summer instead of being +shipwrecked on that desert island. There is nothing, my dear boy, like a +girl well invested." + +"You speak with the feelings of a father." + +"I speak, sir, from observation. I look at society as it is, not as it +would be if we had primogeniture and a landed aristocracy. A daughter +under our arrangements is more likely to be a comfort to her parent in +his declining years than a son." + +"But you seem, Major, to have preferred a single life?" + +"Circumstances--thank you, just a drop more--we are the creatures of +circumstances. It is a long story. There were misrepresentation and +misunderstanding. It is true, sir, that at that time my property was +encumbered, but it was not unproductive. She died long ago. I have +reason to believe that her married life was not happy. I was hot-blooded +in those days, and my honor was touched, but I never blamed her. She +was, at twenty, the most beautiful woman in Virginia. I have never seen +her equal." + +This was more than the Major had ever revealed about his private life +before. He had created an illusion about himself which society accepted, +and in which he lived in apparent enjoyment of metropolitan existence. +This was due to a sanguine temperament and a large imagination. And he +had one quality that made him a favorite--a hearty enjoyment of the +prosperity of others. With regard to himself, his imagination was +creative, and Jack could not now tell whether this "most beautiful woman +of Virginia" was not evoked by the third glass, about which the Major +remarked, as he emptied it, that only this extraordinary occasion could +justify such an indulgence at this time of day. + +The courtly old gentleman had inquired about madam--indeed, the second +glass had been dedicated to "mother and child"--and he exhibited a +friendly and almost paternal interest, as he always did, in Jack. + +"By-the-way," he said, after a silence, "is Henderson in town?" + +"I haven't heard. Why?" + +"There's been a good deal of uneasiness in the Street as to what he is +doing. I hope you haven't got anything depending on him." + +"I've got something in his stocks, if that is what you mean; but I don't +mind telling you I have made something." + +"Well, it's none of my business, only the Henderson stocks have gone off +a little, as you know." + +Jack knew, and he asked the Major a little nervously if he knew anything +further. The Major knew nothing except Street rumors. Jack was uneasy, +for the Major was a sort of weathercock, and before he left the club he +wrote to Mavick. + +He carried home with him a certain disquiet, to which he had been for +months a stranger. Even the sight of Edith, who met him with a happy +face, and dragged him away at once to see how lovely the baby looked +asleep, could not remove this. It seemed strange that such a little +thing should make a change, introduce an alien element into this domestic +peace. Jack was like some other men who lose heart not when they are +doing a doubtful thing, but when they have to face the consequences-- +cases of misplaced conscience. The peace and content that he had left in +the house in the morning seemed to have gone out of it when he returned +at night. + +Next day came a reassuring letter from Mavick. + +Henderson was going on as usual. It was only a little bear movement, +which wouldn't amount to anything. Still, day after day, the bears kept +clawing down, and Jack watched the stock-list with increasing eagerness. +He couldn't decide to sacrifice anything as long as he had a margin of +profit. + +In this state of mind it was impossible to consider any of the plans he +had talked over with Edith before the baby was born. Inquiries he did +make about some sort of position or regular occupation, and these he +reported to Edith; but his heart was not in it. + +As the days went by there was a little improvement in his stocks, and his +spirits rose. But this mood was no more favorable than the other for +beginning a new life, nor did there seem to be, as he went along, any +need of it. He had an appearance of being busy every day; he rose late +and went late to bed. It was the old life. Stocks down, there was a +necessity of bracing up with whomever he met at any of the three or four +clubs in which he lounged in the afternoon; and stocks up, there was +reason for celebrating that fact in the same way. + +It was odd how soon he became accustomed to consider himself and to be +regarded as the father of a family. That, also, like his marriage, +seemed something done, and in a manner behind him. There was a +commonplaceness about the situation. To Edith it was a great event. To +Jack it was a milestone in life. He was proud of the boy; he was proud +of Edith. "I tell you, fellows," he would say at the club, "it's a great +thing," and so on, in a burst of confidence, and he was quite sincere in +this. But he preferred to be at the club and say these things rather +than pass the same hours with his adorable family. He liked to think +what he would do for that family--what luxuries he could procure for +them, how they should travel and see the world. There wasn't a better +father anywhere than Jack at this period. And why shouldn't a man of +family amuse himself? Because he was happy in his family he needn't +change all the habits of his life. + +Presently he intended to look about him for something to do that would +satisfy Edith and fill up his time; but meantime he drifted on, +alternately anxious and elated, until the season opened. The Blunts and +the Van Dams and the Chesneys and the Tavishes and Mrs. Henderson had +called, invitations had poured in, subscriptions were asked, studies and +gayeties were projected, and the real business of life was under way. + + + + +XV + +To the nurse of the Delancy boy and to his mother he was by no means an +old story or merely an incident of the year. He was an increasing +wonder--new every morning, and exciting every evening. He was the centre +of a world of solicitude and adoration. It would be scarcely too much to +say that his coming into the world promised a new era, and his traits, +his likes and dislikes, set a new standard in his court. If he had +apprehended his position his vanity would have outgrown his curiosity +about the world, but he displayed no more consciousness of his royalty +than a kicking Infanta of Spain. This was greatly to his credit in the +opinion of the nurse, who devoted herself to the baby with that +enthusiasm of women for infants which fortunately never fails, and won +the heart of Edith by her worship. And how much they found to say about +this marvel! To hear from the nurse, over and over again, what the baby +had done and had not done, in a given hour, was to Edith like a fresh +chapter out of an exciting romance. + +And the boy's biographer is inclined to think that he had rare powers of +discrimination, for one day when Carmen had called and begged to be +permitted to go up into the nursery, and had asked to take him in her +arms just for a moment, notwithstanding her soft dress and her caressing +manner, Fletcher had made a wry face and set up a howl. "How much he +looks like his father" (he didn't look like anything), Carmen said, +handing him over to the nurse. What she thought was that in manner and +disposition he was totally unlike Jack Delancy. + +When they came down-stairs, Mrs. Schuyler Blunt was in the drawing-room. +"I've had such a privilege, Mrs. Blunt, seeing the baby!" cried Carmen, +in her sweetest manner. + +"It must have been," that lady rejoined, stiffly. + +Carmen, who hated to be seen through, of all things, did not know whether +to resent this or not. But Edith hastened to the rescue of her guest. + +"I think it's a privilege." + +"And you know, Mrs. Blunt," said Carmen, recovering herself and smiling, +"that I must have some excitement this dull season." + +"I see," said Mrs. Blunt, with no relaxation of her manner; "we are all +grateful to Mrs. Delancy." + +"Mrs. Henderson does herself injustice," Edith again interposed. "I can +assure you she has a great talent for domesticity." + +Carmen did not much fancy this apology for her, but she rejoined: "Yes, +indeed. I'm going to cultivate it." + +"How is this privileged person?" Mrs. Blunt asked. + +"You shall see," said Edith. "I am glad you came, for I wanted very much +to consult you. I was going to send for you." + +"Well, here I am. But I didn't come about the baby. I wanted to consult +you. We miss you, dear, every day." And then Mrs. Blunt began to speak +about some social and charitable arrangements, but stopped suddenly." +I'll see the baby first. Good-morning, Mrs. Henderson." And she left +the room. + +Carmen felt as much left out socially as about the baby, and she also +rose to go. + +"Don't go," said Edith. "What kind of a summer have you had?" + +"Oh, very good. Some shipwrecks." + +"And Mr. Henderson? Is he well?" + +"Perfectly. He is away now. Husbands, you know, haven't so much talent +for domesticity as we have." + +"That depends," Edith replied, simply, but with that spirit and air of +breeding before which Carmen always inwardly felt defeat--"that depends +very much upon ourselves." + +Naturally, with this absorption in the baby, Edith was slow to resume her +old interests. Of course she knew of the illness of Father Damon, and +the nurse, who was from the training-school in which Dr. Leigh was an +instructor, and had been selected for this important distinction by the +doctor, told her from time to time of affairs on the East Side. Over +there the season had opened quite as usual; indeed, it was always open; +work must go on every day, because every day food must be obtained and +rent-money earned, and the change from summer to winter was only a +climatic increase of hardships. Even an epidemic scare does not +essentially vary the daily monotony, which is accepted with a dogged +fatality: + +There had been no vacation for Ruth Leigh, and she jokingly said, when at +length she got a half-hour for a visit to Edith, that she would hardly +know what to do with one if she had it. + +"We have got through very well," she added. "We always dread the summer, +and we always dread the winter. Science has not yet decided which is the +more fatal, decayed vegetables or unventilated rooms. City residence +gives both a fair chance at the poor." + +"Are not the people learning anything?" Edith asked. + +"Not much, except to bear it, I am sorry to say. Even Father Damon--" + +"Is he at work again? Do you see him often?" + +"Yes, occasionally." + +"I should so like to see him. But I interrupted you." + +"Well, Father Damon has come to see that nothing can be done without +organization. The masses"--and there was an accent of bitterness in her +use of the phrase--"must organize and fight for anything they want." + +"Does Father Damon join in this?" + +"Oh, he has always been a member of the Labor League. Now he has been at +work with the Episcopal churches of the city, and got them to agree, when +they want workmen for any purpose, to employ only union men." + +"Isn't that," Edith exclaimed, "a surrender of individual rights and a +great injustice to men not in the unions?" + +"You would see it differently if you were in the struggle. If the +working-men do not stand by each other, where are they to look for help? +What have the Christians of this city done?" and the little doctor got up +and began to pace the room. "Charities? Yes, little condescending +charities. And look at the East Side! Is its condition any better? +I tell you, Mrs. Delancy, I don't believe in charities--in any +charities." + +"It seems to me," said Edith, with a smile calculated to mollify this +vehemence, "that you are a standing refutation of your own theory." + +"Me? No, indeed. I'm paid by the dispensary. And I make my patients +pay--when they are able." + +"So I have heard," Edith retorted. "Your bills must be a terror to the +neighborhood." + +"You may laugh. But I'm establishing a reputation over there as a +working-woman, and if I have any influence, or do any little good, it's +owing to that fact. Do you think they care anything about Father Damon's +gospel?" + +"I should be sorry to think they did not," Edith said, gravely. + +"Well, very little they care. They like the man because they think he +shares their feelings, and does not sympathize with them because they are +different from him. That is the only kind of gospel that is good for +anything over there." + +"I don't think Father Damon would agree with you in that." + +"Of course he would not. He's as mediaeval as any monk. But then he is +not blind. He sees that it is never anything but personal influence that +counts. Poor fellow," and the doctor's voice softened, "he'll kill +himself with his ascetic notions. He is trying to take up the burden of +this life while struggling under the terror of another." + +"But he must be doing a great deal of good." + +"Oh, I don't know. Nothing seems to do much good. But his presence is +a great comfort. That is something. And I'm glad he is going about now +rousing opposition to what is, rather than all the time preaching +submission to the lot of this life for the sake of a reward somewhere +else. That's a gospel for the rich." + +Edith was accustomed to hear Ruth Leigh talk in this bitter strain when +this subject was introduced, and she contrived to turn the conversation +upon what she called practical work, and then to ask some particulars of +Father Damon's sudden illness. + +"He did rest," the doctor said, "for a little, in his way. But he will +not spare himself, and he cannot stand it. I wish you could induce him +to come here often--to do anything for diversion. He looks so worn." + +There was in the appeal to Edith a note of personal interest which her +quick heart did not fail to notice. And the thought came to her with a +painful apprehension. Poor thing! Poor Father Damon! + +Does not each of them have to encounter misery enough without this? + +Doesn't life spare anybody? + +She told her apprehension to Jack when he came home. + +Jack gave a long whistle. "That is a deadlock!" + +"His vows, and her absolute materialism! Both of them would go to the +stake for what they believe, or don't believe. It troubles me very +much." + +"But," said Jack, "it's interesting. It's what they call a situation. +There. I didn't mean to make light of it. I don't believe there is +anything in it. But it would be comical, right here in New York." + +"It would be tragical." + +"Comedy usually is. I suppose it's the human nature in it. That is so +difficult to get rid of. But I thought the missionary business was safe. +Though, do you know, Edith, I should think better of both of them for +having some human feeling. By-the-way, did Dr. Leigh say anything about +Henderson?" + +"No. What?" + +"He has given Father Damon ten thousand dollars. It's in strict secrecy, +but Father Damon said I might tell you. He said it was providential." + +"I thought Mr. Henderson was wholly unscrupulous and cold as ice." + +"Yes, he's got a reputation for freeze-outs. If the Street knew this it +would say it was insurance money. And he is so cynical that he wouldn't +care what the Street said." + +"Do you think it came about through Mrs. Henderson?" + +"I don't think so. She was speaking of Father Damon this morning in the +Loan Exhibition. I don't believe she knows anything about it. Henderson +is a good deal shut up in himself. They say at the Union that years ago +he used to do a good many generous things--that he is a great deal harder +than he used to be." + +This talk was before dinner. She did not ask anything now about Carmen, +though she knew that Jack had fallen into his old habit of seeing much of +her. He was less and less at home, except at dinner-time, and he was +often restless, and, she saw, often annoyed. When he was at home he +tried to make up for his absence by extra tenderness and consideration +for Edith and the boy. And this effort, and its evidence of a double if +not divided life, wounded her more than the neglect. One night, when he +came home late, he had been so demonstrative about the baby that Edith +had sent the nurse out of the room until she could coax Jack to go into +his own apartment. His fits of alternate good-humor and depression she +tried to attribute to his business, to which he occasionally alluded +without confiding in her. + +The next morning Father Damon came in about luncheon-time. He apologized +for not coming before since her return, but he had been a little upset, +and his work was more and more interesting. His eyes were bright and his +manner had quite the usual calm, but he looked pale and thinner, and so +exhausted that Edith ran immediately for a glass of wine, and began to +upbraid him for not taking better care of himself. + +"I take too much care of myself. We all do. The only thing I've got to +give is myself." + +" But you will not last." + +"That is of little moment; long or short, a man can only give himself. +Our Lord was not here very long." And then Father Damon smiled, and said +"My dear friend, I'm really doing very well. Of course I get tired. +Then I come up again. And every now and then I get a lift. Did Jack +tell you about Henderson?" + +"Yes. Wasn't it strange?" + +"I never was more surprised. He sent for me to come to his office. +Without any circumlocution, he asked me how I was getting on, and, before +I could answer, he said, in the driest business way, that he had been +thinking over a little plan, and perhaps I could help him. He had a +little money he wanted to invest-- + +"'In our mission chapel?' I asked. + +"'No,' he said, without moving a muscle. 'Not that. I don't know much +about chapels, Father Damon. But I've been hearing what you are doing, +and it occurred to me that you must come across a good many cases not in +the regular charities that you could help judiciously, get them over hard +spots, without encouraging dependence. I'm going to put ten thousand +dollars into your hands, if you'll be bothered with it, to use at your +discretion.' + +"I was taken aback, and I suppose I showed it, and I said that was a +great deal of money to intrust to one man. + +"Henderson showed a little impatience. It depended upon the man. That +was his lookout. The money would be deposited, he said, in bank to my +order, and he asked me for my signature that he could send with the +deposit. + +"Of course I thanked him warmly, and said I hoped I could do some good +with it. He did not seem to pay much attention to what I was saying. He +was looking out of the window to the bare trees in the court back of his +office, and his hands were moving the papers on his table aimlessly +about. + +"'I shall know,' he said, 'when you have drawn this out. I've got a +fancy for keeping a little fund of this sort there.' And then he added, +still not looking at me, but at the dead branches, 'You might call it the +Margaret Fund.'" + +"That was the name of his first wife!" Edith exclaimed. + +"Yes, I remember. I said I would, and began to thank him again as I rose +from my chair. He was still looking away, and saying, as if to himself, +'I think she would like that.' And then he turned, and, in his usual +abrupt office manner, said: 'Good-morning, good-morning. I am very much +obliged to you.'" + +"Wasn't it all very strange!" Edith spoke, after a moment. "I didn't +suppose he cared. Do you think it was just sentiment?" + +"I shouldn't wonder. Men like Henderson do queer things. In the hearts +of such hardened men there are sometimes roots of sentiment that you +wouldn't suspect. But I don't know. The Lord somehow looks out for his +poor." + +Notwithstanding this windfall of charity, Father Damon seemed somewhat +depressed. "I wish," he said, after a pause, "he had given it to the +mission. We are so poor, and modern philanthropy all runs in other +directions. The relief of temporary suffering has taken the place of the +care of souls." + +"But Dr. Leigh said that you were interesting the churches in the labor +unions." + +"Yes. It is an effort to do something. The church must put herself into +sympathetic relations with these people, or she will accomplish nothing. +To get them into the church we must take up their burdens. But it is a +long way round. It is not the old method of applying the gospel to men's +sins." + +"And yet," Edith insisted, "you must admit that such people as Dr. Leigh +are doing a good work." + +Father Damon did not reply immediately. Presently he asked: "Do you +think, Mrs. Delancy, that Dr. Leigh has any sympathy with the higher +life, with spiritual things? I wish I could think so." + +"With the higher life of humanity, certainly." + +"Ah, that is too vague. I sometimes feel that she and those like her are +the worst opponents to our work. They substitute humanitarianism for the +gospel." + +"Yet I know of no one who works more than Ruth Leigh in the self- +sacrificing spirit of the Master." + +"Whom she denies!" The quick reply came with a flush in his pale face, +and he instantly arose and walked away to the window and stood for some +moments in silence. When he turned there was another expression in his +eyes and a note of tenderness in his voice that contradicted the severity +of the priest. It was the man that spoke. "Yes, she is the best woman I +ever knew. God help me! I fear I am not fit for my work." + +This outburst of Father Damon to her, so unlike his calm and trained +manner, surprised Edith, although she had already some suspicion of his +state of mind. But it would not have surprised her if she had known more +of men, the necessity of the repressed and tortured soul for sympathy, +and that it is more surely to be found in the heart of a pure woman than +elsewhere. + +But there was nothing that she could say, as she took his hand to bid him +good-by, except the commonplace that Dr. Leigh had expressed anxiety that +he was overworking, and that for the sake of his work he must be more +prudent. Yet her eyes expressed the sympathy she did not put in words. + +Father Damon understood this, and he went away profoundly grateful for +her forbearance of verbal expression as much as for her sympathy. But he +did not suspect that she needed sympathy quite as much as he did, and +consequently he did not guess the extent of her self-control. It would +have been an immense relief to have opened her heart to him--and to whom +could she more safely do this than to a priest set apart from all human +entanglements?--and to have asked his advice. But Edith's peculiar +strength--or was it the highest womanly instinct?--lay in her discernment +of the truth that in one relation of life no confidences are possible +outside of that relation except to its injury, and that to ask +interference is pretty sure to seal its failure. As its highest joys +cannot be participated in, so its estrangements cannot be healed by any +influence outside of its sacred compact. To give confidence outside is +to destroy the mutual confidence upon which the relation rests, and +though interference may patch up livable compromises, the bloom of love +and the joy of life are not in them. Edith knew that if she could not +win her own battle, no human aid could win it for her. + +And it was all the more difficult because it was vague and indefinite, as +the greater part of domestic tragedies are. For the most part life goes +on with external smoothness, and the public always professes surprise +when some accident, a suit at law, a sudden death, a contested will, a +slip from apparent integrity, or family greed or feminine revenge, turns +the light of publicity upon a household, to find how hollow the life has +been; in the light of forgotten letters, revealing check-books, servants' +gossip, and long-established habits of aversion or forbearance, how much +sordidness and meanness! + +Was not everything going on as usual in the Delancy house and in the +little world of which it was a part? If there had been any open neglect +or jealousy, any quarrel or rupture, or any scene, these could be +described. These would have an interest to the biographer and perhaps to +the public. But at this period there was nothing of this sort to tell. +There were no scenes. There were no protests or remonstrances or +accusations, nor to the world was there any change in the daily life of +these two. + +It was more pitiful even than that. Here was a woman who had set her +heart in all the passionate love of a pure ideal, and day by day she felt +that the world, the frivolous world, with its low and selfish aims, was +too strong for her, and that the stream was wrecking her life because it +was bearing Jack away from her. What could one woman do against the +accepted demoralizations of her social life? To go with them, not to +care, to accept Jack's idle, good-natured, easy philosophy of life and +conduct, would not that have insured a peaceful life? Why shouldn't she +conform and float, and not mind? + +To be sure, a wise woman, who has been blessed or cursed with a long +experience of life, would have known that such a course could not +forever, or for long, secure happiness, and that a man's love ultimately +must rest upon a profound respect for his wife and a belief in her +nobility. Perhaps Edith did not reason in this way. Probably it was her +instinct for what was pure and true-showing, indeed, the quality of her +love-that guided her. + +To Jack's friends he was much the same as usual. He simply went on in +his ante-marriage ways. Perhaps he drank a little more, perhaps he was a +little more reckless at cards, and it was certain that his taste for +amusing himself in second-hand book-shops and antiquity collections had +weakened. His talked-of project for some regular occupation seemed to +have been postponed, although he said to himself that it was only +postponed until his speculations, which kept him in a perpetual fever, +should put him in a position to command a business. + +Meantime he did not neglect social life--that is, the easy, tolerant +company which lived as he liked to live. There was at first some +pretense of declining invitations which Edith could not accept, but he +soon fell into the habit of a man whose family has temporarily gone +abroad, with the privileges of a married man, without the +responsibilities of a bachelor. Edith could see that he took great +credit to himself for any evenings he spent at home, and perhaps he had a +sort of support in the idea that he was sacrificing himself to his +family. Major Fairfax, whom Edith distrusted as a misleader of youth, +did not venture to interfere with Jack again, but he said to himself that +it was a blank shame that with such a wife he should go dangling about +with women like Carmen and Miss Tavish, not that the Major himself had +any objection to their society, but, hang it all, that was no reason why +Jack should be a fool. + +In midwinter Jack went to Washington on business. It was necessary to +see Mavick, and Mr. Henderson, who was also there. To spend a few weeks +at the capital, in preparation for Lent, has become a part of the program +of fashion. There can be met people like-minded from all parts of the +Union, and there is gayety, and the entertainment to be had in new +acquaintances, without incurring any of the responsibilities of social +continuance. They meet there on neutral ground. Half Jack's set had +gone over or were going. Young Van Dam would go with him. It will be +only for a few days, Jack had said, gayly, when he bade Edith good-by, +and she must be careful not to let the boy forget him. + +It was quite by accident, apparently, that in the same train were the +Chesneys, Miss Tavish, and Carmen going over to join her husband. This +gave the business expedition the air of an excursion. And indeed at the +hotel where they stayed this New York contingent made something of an +impression, promising an addition to the gayety of the season, and +contributing to the importance of the house as a centre of fashion. +Henderson's least movements were always chronicled and speculated on, +and for years he had been one of the stock subjects, out of which even +the dullest interviewers, who watch the hotel registers in all parts of +the country, felt sure that they could make an acceptable paragraph. The +arrival of his wife, therefore, was a newspaper event. + +They said in Washington at the time that Mrs. Henderson was one of the +most fascinating of women, amiable, desirous to please, approachable, and +devoted to the interests of her husband. If some of the women, residents +in established society, were a little shy of her, if some, indeed, +thought her dangerous--women are always thinking this of each other, +and surely they ought to know-nothing of this appeared in the reports. +The men liked her. She had so much vivacity, such esprit, she understood +men so well, and the world, and could make allowances, and was always an +entertaining companion. More than one Senator paid marked court to her, +more than one brilliant young fellow of the House thought himself +fortunate if he sat next her at dinner, and even cabinet officers waited +on her at supper. It could not be doubted that a smile and a +confidential or a witty remark from Mrs. Henderson brightened many an +evening. Wherever she went her charming toilets were fully described, +and the public knew as well as her jewelers the number and cost of her +diamonds, her necklaces, her tiaras. But this was for the world and for +state occasions. At home she liked simplicity. And this was what +impressed the reporters when, in the line of their public duty, they were +admitted to her presence. With them she was very affable, and she made +them feel that they could almost be classed with her friends, and that +they were her guardians against the vulgar publicity, which she disliked +and shrank from. + +There went abroad, therefore, an impression of her amiability, +her fabulous wealth in jewels and apparel, her graciousness and her +cleverness and her domesticity. Her manners seemed to the reporters +those of a "lady," and of this both her wit and freedom from prudishness +and her courteous treatment of them convinced them. And the best of all +this was that while it was said that Henderson was one of the boldest and +shrewdest of operators, and a man to be feared in the Street, he was in +his family relations one of the most generous and kind-hearted of men. + +Henderson himself had not much time for the frivolities of the season, +and he evaded all but the more conspicuous social occasions, at which +Carmen, sometimes with a little temper, insisted that he should accompany +her. "You would come here," he once said, "when you knew I was immersed +in most perplexing business." + +"And now I am here," she had replied, in a tone equally wanting in +softness, "you have got to make the best of me." + +Was Jack happy in the whirl he was in? Some days exceedingly so. Some +days he sulked, and some days he threw himself with recklessness born of +artificial stimulants into the always gay and rattling moods of Miss +Tavish. Somehow he could get no nearer to Henderson or to Mavick than +when he was in New York. Not that he could accuse Mavick of trying to +conceal anything; Mavick bore to him always the open, "all right" +attitude, but there were things that he did not understand. + +And then Carmen? Was she a little less dependent on him, in this wide +horizon, than in New York? And had he noticed a little disposition to +patronize on two or three occasions? It was absurd. He laughed at +himself for such an idea. Old Eschelle's daughter patronize him! +And yet there was something. She was very confidential with Mavick. +They seemed to have a great deal in common. It so happened that even in +the little expeditions of sightseeing these two were thrown much +together, and at times when the former relations of Jack and Carmen +should have made them comrades. They had a good deal to say to each +other, and momentarily evidently serious things, and at receptions Jack +had interrupted their glances of intelligence. But what stuff this was! +He jealous of the attentions of his friend to another man's wife! If she +was a coquette, what did it matter to him? Certainly he was not jealous. +But he was irritated. + +One day after a round of receptions, in which Jack had been specially +disgruntled, and when he was alone in the drawing-room of the hotel with +Carmen, his manner was so positively rude to her that she could not but +notice it. There was this trait of boyishness in Jack, and it was one of +the weaknesses that made him loved, that he always cried out when he was +hurt. + +Did Carmen resent this? Did she upbraid him for his manner? Did she +apologize, as if she had done anything to provoke it? She sank down +wearily in a chair and said: + +"I'm so tired. I wish I were back in New York." + +"You don't act like it," Jack replied, gruffly. + +"No. You don't understand. And now you want to make me more miserable. +See here, Mr. Delancy," and she started up in her seat and turned to him, +"you are a man of honor. Would you advise me to make an enemy of Mr. +Mavick, knowing all that he does know about Mr. Henderson's affairs?" + +"I don't see what that has got to do with it," said Jack, wavering. +"Lately your manner--" + +"Nonsense!" cried Carmen, springing up and approaching Jack with a smile +of animation and trust, and laying her hand on his shoulder. "We are +old, old friends. And I have just confided to you what I wouldn't to any +other living being. There!" And looking around at the door, she tapped +him lightly on the cheek and ran out of the room. + +Whatever you might say of Carmen, she had this quality of a wise person, +that she never cut herself loose from one situation until she was +entirely sure of a better position. + +For one reason or another Jack's absence was prolonged. He wrote often, +he made bright comments on the characters and peculiarities of the +capital, and he said that he was tired to death of the everlasting whirl +and scuffle. People plunged in the social whirlpool always say they are +weary of it, and they complain bitterly of its exactions and its tax on +their time and strength. Edith judged, especially from the complaints, +that her husband was enjoying himself. She felt also that his letters +were in a sense perfunctory, and gave her only the surface of his life. +She sought in vain in them for those evidences of spontaneous love, of +delight in writing to her of all persons in the world, the eagerness of +the lover that she recalled in letters written in other days. However +affectionate in expression, these were duty letters. Edith was not +alone. She had no lack of friends, who came and went in the common round +of social exchange, and for many of them she had a sincere affection. +And there were plenty of relatives on the father's and on the mother's +side. But for the most part they were old-fashioned, home-keeping New- +Yorkers, who were sufficient to themselves, and cared little for the set +into which Edith's marriage had more definitely placed her. In any real +trouble she would not have lacked support. She was deemed fortunate in +her marriage, and in her apparent serene prosperity it was believed that +she was happy. If she had had mother or sister or brother, it is +doubtful if she would have made either a confidant of her anxieties, +but high-spirited and self-reliant as she was, there were days when she +longed with intolerable heartache for the silent sympathy of a mother's +presence. + +It is singular how lonely a woman of this nature can be in a gay and +friendly world. She had her interests, to be sure. As she regained her +strength she took up her social duties, and she tried to resume her +studies, her music, her reading, and she occupied herself more and more +with the charities and the fortunes of her friends who were giving their +lives to altruistic work. But there was a sense of unreality in all +this. The real thing was the soul within, the longing, loving woman +whose heart was heavy and unsatisfied. Jack was so lovable, he had in +his nature so much nobility, if the world did not kill it, her life might +be so sweet, and so completely fulfill her girlish dreams. All these +schemes of a helpful, altruistic life had been in her dream, but how +empty it was without the mutual confidence, the repose in the one human +love for which she cared. + +Though she was not alone, she had no confidant. She could have none. +What was there to confide? There was nothing to be done. There was no +flagrant wrong or open injustice. Some women in like circumstances +become bitter and cynical. Others take their revenge in a career +reckless, but within social conventions, going their own way in a sort of +matrimonial truce. These are not noticeable tragedies. They are things +borne with a dumb ache of the heart. There are lives into which the show +of spring comes, but without the song of birds or the scent of flowers. +They are endured bravely, with a heroism for which the world does not +often give them credit. Heaven only knows how many noble women-noble in +this if in nothing else--carry through life this burden of an unsatisfied +heart, mocked by the outward convention of love. + +But Edith had one confidant--the boy. And he was perfectly safe; he +would reveal nothing. There were times when he seemed to understand, +and whether he did or not she poured out her heart to him. Often in the +twilight she sat by him in this silent communion. If he were asleep--and +he was not troubled with insomnia--he was still company. And when he was +awake, his efforts to communicate the dawning ideas of the queer world +into which he had come were a never-failing delight. He wanted so many +more things than he could ask for, which it was his mother's pleasure to +divine; later on he would ask for so many things he could not get. The +nurse said that he had uncommon strength of will. + +These were happy hours, imagining what the boy would be, planning what +she would make his life, hours enjoyed as a traveler enjoys wayside +flowers, snatched before an approaching storm. It is a pity, the nurse +would say, that his father cannot see him now. And at the thought Edith +could only see the child through tears, and a great weight rested on her +heart in all this happiness. + + + + +XVI + +When Father Damon parted from Edith he seemed to himself strengthened in +his spirit. His momentary outburst had shown him where he stood-the +strength of his fearful temptation. To see it was to be able to conquer +it. He would humiliate himself; he would scourge himself; he would fast +and pray; he would throw himself more unreservedly into the service of +his Master. He had been too compromising with sin and sinners, and with +his own weakness and sin, the worst of all. + +The priest walked swiftly through the wintry streets, welcoming as a sort +of penance the biting frost which burned his face and penetrated his +garments. He little heeded the passers in the streets, those who hurried +or those who loitered, only, if he met or passed a woman or a group of +girls, he instinctively drew himself away and walked more rapidly. He +strode on uncompromisingly, and his clean-shaved face was set in rigid +lines. Those who saw him pass would have said that there went an ascetic +bent on judgment. Many who did know him, and who ordinarily would have +saluted him, sure of a friendly greeting, were repelled by his stern face +and determined air, and made no sign. The father had something on his +mind. + +As he turned into Rivington Street there approached him from the opposite +direction a girl, walking slowly and undecidedly. When he came near her +she looked up, with an appealing recognition. In a flash of the quick +passing he thought he knew her--a girl who had attended his mission and +whom he had not seen for several months-but he made no sign and passed +on. + +"Father Damon!" + +He turned about short at the sound of the weak, pleading voice, but with +no relaxation of his severe, introverted mood. "Well?" + +It was the girl he remembered. She wore a dress of silk that had once +been fine, and over it an ample cloak that had quite lost its freshness, +and a hat still gay with cheap flowers. Her face, which had a sweet and +almost innocent expression, was drawn and anxious. The eyes were those +of a troubled and hunted animal. + +"I thought," she said, hesitatingly, "you didn't know me." + +"Yes, I know you. Why haven't you been at the mission lately?" + +"I couldn't come. I--" + +"I'm afraid you have fallen into bad ways." + +She did not answer immediately. She looked away, and, still avoiding his +gaze, said, timidly: "I thought I would tell you, Father Damon, that I'm +--that I'm in trouble. I don't know what to do." + +"Have you repented of your sin?" asked he, with a little softening of his +tone. "Did you want to come to me for help?" + +"He's deserted me," said the girl, looking down, absorbed in her own +misery, and not heeding his question. + +"Ah, so that is what you are sorry for?" The severe, reproving tone had +come back to his voice. + +"And they don't want me in the shop any more." + +The priest hesitated. Was he always to preach against sin, to strive to +extirpate it, and yet always to make it easy for the sinner? This girl +must realize her guilt before he could do her any good. "Are you sorry +for what you have done?" + +"Yes, I'm sorry," she replied. Wasn't to be in deep trouble to be +sorry? And then she looked up, and continued with the thought in her +mind, "I didn't know who else to go to." + +"Well, my child, if you are sorry, and want to lead a different life, +come to me at the mission and I will try to help you." + +The priest, with a not unkindly good-by, passed on. The girl stood a +moment irresolute, and then went on her way heavily and despondent. +What good would it do her to go to the mission now? + +Three days later Dr. Leigh was waiting at the mission chapel to speak +with the rector after the vesper service. He came out pale and weary, +and the doctor hesitated to make known her errand when she saw how +exhausted he was. + +"Did you wish me for anything?" he asked, after the rather forced +greeting. + +"If you feel able. There is a girl at the Woman's Hospital who wants to +see you." + +"Who is it?" + +"It is the girl you saw on the street the other afternoon; she said she +had spoken to you." + +"She promised to come to the mission." + +"She couldn't. I met the poor thing the same afternoon. She looked so +aimless and forlorn that, though I did not remember her at first, I +thought she might be ill, and spoke to her, and asked her what was the +matter. At first she said nothing except that she was out of work and +felt miserable; but the next moment she broke down completely, and said +she hadn't a friend in the world." + +"Poor thing!" said the priest, with a pang of self-reproach. + +"There was nothing to do but to take her to the hospital, and there she +has been." + +"Is she very ill?" + +"She may live, the house surgeon says. But she was very weak for such a +trial." + +Little more was said as they walked along, and when they reached the +hospital, Father Damon was shown without delay into the ward where the +sick girl lay. Dr. Leigh turned back from the door, and the nurse took +him to the bedside. She lay quite still in her cot, wan and feeble, with +every sign of having encountered a supreme peril. + +She turned her head on the low pillow as Father Damon spoke, saying he +was very glad he could come to her, and hoped she was feeling better. + +"I knew you would come," she said, feebly. "The nurse says I'm better. +But I wanted to tell you--"And she stopped. + +"Yes, I know," he said. "The Lord is very good. He will forgive all +your sins now, if you repent and trust Him." + +"I hope--"she began. "I'm so weak. If I don't live I want him to know." + +"Want whom to know?" asked the father, bending over her. + +She signed for him to come closer, and then whispered a name. + +"Only if I never see him again, if you see him, you will tell him that I +was always true to him. He said such hard words. I was always true." + +"I promise," said the father, much moved. "But now, my child, you ought +to think of yourself, of your--" + +"He is dead. Didn't they tell you? There is nothing any more." + +The nurse approached with a warning gesture that the interview was too +prolonged. + +Father Damon knelt for a moment by the bedside, uttering a hardly +articulate prayer. The girl's eyes were closed. When he rose she opened +them with a look of gratitude, and with the sign of blessing he turned +away. + +He intended to hasten from the house. He wanted to be alone. His +trouble seemed to him greater than that of the suffering girl. What had +he done? What was he in thought better than she? Was this intruding +human element always to cross the purpose of his spiritual life? + +As he was passing through the wide hallway the door of the reception-room +was open, and he saw Dr. Leigh seated at the table, with a piece of work +in her hands. She looked up, and stopped him with an unspoken inquiry in +her face. It was only civil to pause a moment and tell her about the +patient, and as he stepped within the room she rose. + +"You should rest a moment, Father Damon. I know what these scenes are." + +Yielding weakly, as he knew, he took the offered chair. But he raised +his hand in refusal of the glass of wine which she had ready for him on +the table, and offered before he could speak. + +"But you must," she said, with a smile. "It is the doctor's +prescription." + +She did not look like a doctor. She had laid aside the dusty walking- +dress, the business-jacket, the ugly little hat of felt, the battered +reticule. In her simple house costume she was the woman, homelike, +sympathetic, gentle, with the everlasting appeal of the strong feminine +nature. It was not a temptress who stood before him, but a helpful +woman, in whose kind eyes-how beautiful they were in this moment of +sympathy--there was trust--and rest--and peace. + +"So," she said, when he had taken the much-needed draught; "in the +hospital you must obey the rules, one of which is to let no one sink in +exhaustion." + +She had taken her seat now, and resumed her work. Father Damon was +looking at her, seeing the woman, perhaps, as he never had seen her +before, a certain charm in her quiet figure and modest self-possession, +while the thought of her life, of her labors, as he had seen her now for +months and months of entire sacrifice of self, surged through his brain +in a whirl of emotion that seemed sweeping him away. But when he spoke +it was of the girl, and as if to himself. + +"I was sorry to let her go that day. Friendless, I should have known. +I did know. I should have felt. You--" + +"No," she said, gently, interrupting him; "that was my business. You +should not accuse yourself. It was a physician's business." + +"Yes, a physician--the great Physician. The Master never let the sin +hinder his compassion for the sinner." + +To this she could make no reply. Presently she looked up and said: "But +I am sure your visit was a great comfort to the poor girl! She was very +eager to see you." + +"I do not know." + +His air was still abstracted. He was hardly thinking of the girl, after +all, but of himself, of the woman who sat before him. It seemed to him +that he would have given the world to escape--to fly from her, to fly +from himself. Some invisible force held him--a strong, new, and yet not +new, emotion, a power that seemed to clutch his very life. He could not +think clearly about it. In all his discipline, in his consecration, in +his vows of separation from the world, there seemed to have been no +shield prepared for this. The human asserted itself, and came in, +overwhelming his guards and his barriers like a strong flood in the +spring-time of the year, breaking down all artificial contrivances. +"They reckon ill who leave me out," is the everlasting cry of the human +heart, the great passion of life, incarnate in the first man and the +first woman. + +With a supreme effort of his iron will--is the Will, after all, stronger +than Love?--Father Damona rose. He stretched out his hand to say +farewell. She also stood, and she felt the hand tremble that held hers. + +"God bless you!" he said. "You are so good." + +He was going. He took her other hand, and was looking down upon her +face. She looked up, and their eyes met. It was for an instant, a +flash, glance for glance, as swift as the stab of daggers. + +All the power of heaven and earth could not recall that glance nor undo +its revelations. The man and the woman stood face to face revealed. + +He bent down towards her face. Affrighted by his passion, scarcely able +to stand in her sudden emotion, she started back. The action, the +instant of time, recalled him to himself. He dropped her hands, and was +gone. And the woman, her knees refusing any longer to support her, sank +into a chair, helpless, and saw him go, and knew in that moment the +height of a woman's joy, the depth of a woman's despair. + +It had come to her! Steeled by her science, shielded by her +philanthropy, schooled in indifference to love, it had come to her! +And it was hopeless. Hopeless? It was absurd. Her life was determined. +In no event could it be in harmony with his opinions, with his religion, +which was dearer to him than life. There was a great gulf between them +which she could not pass unless she ceased to be herself. And he? +A severe priest! Vowed and consecrated against human passion! What a +government of the world--if there were any government--that could permit +such a thing! It was terrible. + +And yet she was loved! That sang in her heart with all the pain, with +all the despair. And with it all was a great pity for him, alone, gone +into the wilderness, as it would seem to him, to struggle with his fierce +temptation. + +It had come on darker as she sat there. The lamps were lighted, and she +was reminded of some visits she must make. She went, mechanically, +to her room to prepare for going. The old jacket, which she took up, did +look rather rusty. She went to the press--it was not much of a wardrobe +--and put on the one that was reserved for holidays. And the hat? Her +friends had often joked her about the hat, but now for the first time she +seemed to see it as it might appear to others. As she held it in her +hand, and then put it on before the mirror, she smiled a little, faintly, +at its appearance. And then she laid it aside for her better hat. She +never had been so long in dressing before. And in the evening, too, when +it could make no difference! It might, after all, be a little more +cheerful for her forlorn patients. Perhaps she was not conscious that +she was making selections, that she was paying a little more attention to +her toilet than usual. Perhaps it was only the woman who was conscious +that she was loved. + +It would be difficult to say what emotion was uppermost in the mind of +Father Damon as he left the house--mortification, contempt of himself, +or horror. But there was a sense of escape, of physical escape, and the +imperative need of it, that quickened his steps almost into a run. +In the increasing dark, at this hour, in this quarter of the town, there +were comparatively few whose observation of him would recall him to +himself. He thought only of escape, and of escape from that quarter of +the city that was the witness of his labors and his failure. For the +moment to get away from this was the one necessity, and without reasoning +in the matter, only feeling, he was hurrying, stumbling in his haste, +northward. Before he went to the hospital he had been tired, physically +weary. He was scarcely conscious of it now; indeed, his body, his hated +body, seemed lighter, and the dominant spirit now awakened to contempt of +it had a certain pleasure in testing it, in drawing upon its vitality, to +the point of exhaustion if possible. It should be seen which was master. +His rapid pace presently brought him into one of the great avenues +leading to Harlem. That was the direction he wished to go. That was +where he knew, without making any decision, he must go, to the haven of +the house of his order, on the heights beyond Harlem. A train was just +clattering along on the elevated road above him. He could see the faces +at the windows, the black masses crowding the platforms. It went +pounding by as if it were freight from another world. He was in haste, +but haste to escape from himself. That way, bearing him along with other +people, and in the moving world, was to bring him in touch with humanity +again, and so with what was most hateful in himself. He must be alone. +But there was a deeper psychological reason than that for walking, +instead of availing himself of the swiftest method of escape. He was not +fleeing from justice or pursuit. When the mind is in torture and the +spirit is torn, the instinctive effort is to bodily activity, to force +physical exertion, as if there must be compensation for the mental strain +in the weariness of nature. The priest obeyed this instinct, as if it +were possible to walk away from himself, and went on, at first with +almost no sense of weariness. + +And the shame! He could not bear to be observed. It seemed to him that +every one would see in his face that he was a recreant priest, perjured +and forsworn. And so great had been his spiritual pride! So removed he +had deemed himself from the weakness of humanity! And he had yielded at +the first temptation, and the commonest of all temptations! Thank God, +he had not quite yielded. He had fled. And yet, how would it have been +if Ruth Leigh had not had a moment of reserve, of prudent repulsion! +He groaned in anguish. The sin was in the intention. It was no merit of +his that he had not with a kiss of passion broken his word to his Lord +and lost his soul. + +It was remorse that was driving him along the avenue; no room for any +other thought yet, or feeling. Perhaps it is true in these days that the +old-fashioned torture known as remorse is rarely experienced except under +the name of detection. But it was a reality with this highly sensitive +nature, with this conscience educated to the finest edge of feeling. The +world need never know his moment's weakness; Ruth Leigh he could trust as +he would have trusted his own sister to guard his honor--that was all +over--never, he was sure, would she even by a look recall the past; +but he knew how he had fallen, and the awful measure of his lapse from +loyalty to his Master. And how could he ever again stand before erring, +sinful men and women and speak about that purity which he had violated? +Could repentance, confession, penitence, wipe away this stain? + +As he went on, his mind in a whirl of humiliation, self-accusation, and +contempt, at length he began to be conscious of physical weariness. +Except the biscuit and the glass of wine at the hospital, he had taken +nothing since his light luncheon. When he came to the Harlem Bridge he +was compelled to rest. Leaning against one of the timbers and half +seated, with the softened roar of the city in his ears, the lights +gleaming on the heights, the river flowing dark and silent, he began to +be conscious of his situation. Yes, he was very tired. It seemed +difficult to go on without help of some sort. At length he crossed the +bridge. Lights were gleaming from the saloons along the street. He +paused in front of one, irresolute. Food he could not taste, but +something he must have to carry him on. But no, that would not do; he +could not enter that in his priest's garb. He dragged himself along +until he came to a drug-shop, the modern saloon of the respectably +virtuous. That he entered, and sat down on a stool by the soda-water +counter. The expectant clerk stared at him while waiting the order, +his hand tentatively seeking one of the faucets of refreshment. + +"I feel a little feverish," said the father. "You may give me five +grains of quinine in whisky." + + +"That'll put you all right," said the boy as he handed him the mixture. +"It's all the go now." + +It seemed to revive him, and he went out and walked on towards the +heights. Somehow, seeing this boy, coming back to common life, perhaps +the strong and unaccustomed stimulant, gave a new shade to his thoughts. +He was safe. Presently he would be at the Retreat. He would rest, and +then gird up his loins and face life again. The mood lasted for some +time. And when the sense of physical weariness came back, that seemed to +dull the acuteness of his spiritual torment. It was late when he reached +the house and rang the night-bell. No one of the brothers was up except +Father Monies, and it was he who came to the door. + +"You! So late! Is anything the matter?" + +"I needed to come," the father said, simply, and he grasped the door- +post, steadying himself as he came in. + +"You look like a ghost." + +"Yes. I'm tired. I walked." + +"Walked? From Rivington Street?" + +"Nearly. I felt like it." + +"It's most imprudent. You dined first?" + +"I wasn't hungry." + +"But you must have something at once." And Father Monies hurried away, +heated some bouillon by a spirit-lamp, and brought it, with bread, and +set it before his unexpected guest. + +"There, eat that, and get to bed as soon as you can. It was great +nonsense." + +And Father Damon obeyed. Indeed, he was too exhausted to talk. + + + + +XVII + +Father Damon slept the sleep of exhaustion. In this for a time the mind +joined in the lethargy of the body. But presently, as the vital currents +were aroused, the mind began to play its fantastic tricks. He was a +seminary student, he was ordained, he was taking his vows before the +bishop, he was a robust and consecrated priest performing his first +service, shining, it seemed to him, before the congregation in the purity +of his separation from the world. How strong he felt. And then came +perplexities, difficulties, interests, and conflicting passions in life +that he had not suspected, good that looked like evil, and evil that had +an alloy of virtue, and the way was confused. And then there was a +vision of a sort of sister of charity working with him in the evil and +the good, drawing near to him, and yet repelling him with a cold, +scientific skepticism that chilled him like blasphemy; but so patient was +she, so unconscious of self, that gradually he lost this feeling of +repulsion and saw only the woman, that wonderful creation, tender, +pitiful comrade, the other self. And then there was darkness and +blindness, and he stood once more before his congregation, speaking words +that sounded hollow, hearing responses that mocked him, stared at by +accusing eyes that knew him for a hypocrite. And he rushed away and left +them, hearing their laughter as he went, and so into the street--plainly +it was Rivington Street--and faces that he knew had a smile and a sneer, +and he heard comments as he passed "Hulloa, Father Damon, come in and +have a drink." "I say, Father Damon, I seen her going round into Grand +Street." + +When Father Monies looked in, just before daylight, Father Damon was +still sleeping, but tossing restlessly and muttering incoherently; and he +did not arouse him for the early devotions. + +It was very late when he awoke, and opened his eyes to a confused sense +of some great calamity. Father Monies was standing by the bedside with a +cup of coffee. + +"You have had a good sleep. Now take this, and then you may get up. The +breakfast will wait for you." + +Father Damon started up. "Why didn't you call me? I am late for the +mission." + +"Oh, Bendes has gone down long ago. You must take it easy; rest today. +You'll be all right. You haven't a bit of fever." + +"But," still declining the coffee, "before I break my fast, I have +something to say to you. I--" + +"Get some strength first. Besides, I have an engagement. I cannot wait. +Pull yourself together; I may not be back before evening." + +So it was fated that he should be left still with himself. After his +coffee he dressed slowly, as if it were not he, but some one else going +through this familiar duty, as if it were scarcely worth while to do +anything any more. And then, before attempting his breakfast, he went +into the little oratory, and remained long in the attitude of prayer, +trying to realize what he was and what he had done. He prayed for +himself, for help, for humility, and he prayed for her; he had been used +of late to pray for her guidance, now he prayed that she might be +sustained. + +When he came forth it was in a calmer frame of mind. It was all clear +now. When Father Monies returned he would confess, and take his penance, +and resolutely resume his life. He understood life better now. Perhaps +this blow was needed for his spiritual pride. + +It was a mild winter day, bright, and with a touch of summer, such as +sometimes gets shuffled into our winter calendar. The book that he took +up did not interest him; he was in no mood for the quiet meditation that +it usually suggested to him, and he put it down and strolled out, +directing his steps farther up the height, and away from the suburban +stir. As he went on there was something consonant with his feelings in +the bare wintry landscape, and when he passed the ridge and walked along +the top of the river slope, he saw, as it seemed to him he had not seen +it before, that lovely reach of river, the opposite wooded heights, the +noble pass above, the peacefulness and invitation of nature. Had he a +new sense to see all this? There was a softness in the distant outline, +villas peeped out here and there, carriages were passing in the road +below, there was a cheerful life in the stream--there was a harmony in +the aspect of nature and humanity from this height. Was not the world +beautiful? and human emotion, affection, love, were they alien to the +Divine intention? + +She loved beauty; she was fond of flowers; often she had spoken to him of +her childish delight in her little excursions, rarely made, into the +country. He could see her now standing just there and feasting her eyes +on this noble panorama, and he could see her face all aglow, as she might +turn to him and say, "Isn't it beautiful, Father Damon?" And she was +down in those reeking streets, climbing about in the foul tenement- +houses, taking a sick child in her arms, speaking a word of cheer--a good +physician going about doing good! + +And it might have been! Why was it that this peace of nature should +bring up her image, and that they should seem in harmony? Was not the +love of beauty and of goodness the same thing? Did God require in His +service the atrophy of the affections? As long as he was in the world +was it right that he should isolate himself from any of its sympathies +and trials? Why was it not a higher life to enter into the common lot, +and suffer, if need be, in the struggle to purify and ennoble all? +He remembered the days he had once passed in the Trappist monastery of +Gethsemane. The perfect peace of mind of the monks was purchased at the +expense of the extirpation of every want, all will, every human interest. +Were these men anything but specimens in a Museum of Failures? And yet, +for the time being, it had seemed attractive to him, this simple +vegetable existence, whose only object was preparation for death by the +extinction of all passion and desire. No, these were not soldiers of the +Lord, but the fainthearted, who had slunk into the hospital. + +All this afternoon he was drifting in thought, arraigning his past life, +excusing it, condemning it, and trying to forecast its future. Was this +a trial of his constancy and faith, or had he made a mistake, entered +upon a slavish career, from which he ought to extricate himself at any +cost of the world's opinion? But presently he was aware that in all +these debates with himself her image appeared. He was trying to fit his +life to the thought of her. And when this became clearer in his tortured +mind, the woman appeared as a temptation. It was not, then, the love of +beauty, not even the love of humanity, and very far from being the +service of his Master, that he was discussing, but only his desire for +one person. It was that, then, that made him, for that fatal instant, +forget his vow, and yield to the impulse of human passion. The thought +of that moment stung him with confusion and shame. There had been +moments in this afternoon wandering--when it had seemed possible for him +to ask for release, and to take up a human, sympathetic life with her, in +mutual consecration in the service of the Lord's poor. Yes, and by love +to lead her into a higher conception of the Divine love. But this +breaking a solemn vow at the dictates of passion was a mortal sin--there +was no other name for it--a sin demanding repentance and expiation. + +As he at last turned homeward, facing the great city and his life there, +this became more clear to him. He walked rapidly. The lines of his face +became set in a hard judgment of himself. He thought no more of escaping +from himself, but of subduing himself, stamping out the appeals of his +lower nature. It was in this mood that he returned. + +Father Monies was awaiting him, and welcomed him with that look of +affection, of more than brotherly love, which the good man had for the +younger priest. + +"I hope your walk has done you good." + +"Perhaps," Father Damon replied, without any leniency in his face; "but +that does not matter. I must tell you what I could not last night. Can +you hear me?" + +They went together into the oratory. Father Damon did not spare himself. +He kept nothing back that could heighten the enormity of his offense. + +And Father Monies did not attempt to lessen the impression upon himself +of the seriousness of the scandal. He was shocked. He was exceedingly +grave, but he was even more pitiful. His experience of life had been +longer than that of the penitent. He better knew its temptations. His +own peace had only been won by long crucifixion of the natural desires. + +"I have nothing to say as to your own discipline. That you know. But +there is one thing. You must face this temptation, and subdue it." + +"You mean that I must go back to my labor in the city?" + +"Yes. You can rest here a few days if you feel too weak physically." + +"No; I am well enough." He hesitated. "I thought perhaps some other +field, for a time?" + +"There is no other field for you. It is not for the moment the question +of where you can do most good. You are to reinstate yourself. You are a +soldier of the Lord Jesus, and you are to go where the battle is most +dangerous." + +That was the substance of it all. There was much affectionate counsel +and loving sympathy mingled with all the inflexible orders of obedience, +but the sin must be faced and extirpated in presence of the enemy. + +On the morrow Father Damon went back to his solitary rooms, to his +chapel, to the round of visitations, to his work with the poor, the +sinful, the hopeless. He did not seek her; he tried not to seem to avoid +her, or to seem to shun the streets where he was most likely to meet her, +and the neighborhoods she frequented. Perhaps he did avoid them a +little, and he despised himself for doing it. Almost involuntarily he +looked to the bench by the chapel door which she occasionally occupied at +vespers. She was never there, and he condemned himself for thinking that +she might be; but yet wherever he walked there was always the expectation +that he might encounter her. As the days went by and she did not appear, +his expectation became a kind of torture. Was she ill, perhaps? It +could not be that she had deserted her work. + +And then he began to examine himself with a morbid introspection. Had +the hope that he should see her occasionally influenced him at all in his +obedience to Father Monies? Had he, in fact, a longing to be in the +streets where she had walked, among the scenes that had witnessed her +beautiful devotion? Had his willingness to take up this work again been +because it brought him nearer to her in spirit? + +No, she could not be ill. He heard her spoken of, here and there, in his +calls and ministrations to the sick and dying. Evidently she was going +about her work as usual. Perhaps she was avoiding him. Or perhaps she +did not care, after all, and had lost her respect for him when he +discovered to her his weakness. And he had put himself on a plane so +high above her. + +There was no conscious wavering in his purpose. But from much dwelling +upon the thought, from much effort rather to put it away, his desire only +to see her grew stronger day by day. He had no fear. He longed to test +himself. He was sure that he would be impassive, and be all the stronger +for the test. He was more devoted than ever in his Work. He was more +severe with himself, more charitable to others, and he could not doubt +that he was gaining a hold-yes, a real hold-upon the lives of many about +him. The attendance was better at the chapel; more of the penitent and +forlorn came to him for help. And how alone he was! My God, never even +to see her! + +In fact, Ruth Leigh was avoiding him. It was partly from a womanly +reserve--called into expression in this form for the first time--and +partly from a wish to spare him pain. She had been under no illusion +from the first about the hopelessness of the attachment. She +comprehended his character so thoroughly that she knew that for him any +fall from his ideal would mean his ruin. He was one of the rare spirits +of faith astray in a skeptical age. For a time she had studied curiously +his efforts to adapt himself to his surroundings. One of these was +joining a Knights of Labor lodge. Another was his approach to the +ethical-culture movement of some of the leaders in the Neighborhood +Guild. Another was his interest in the philanthropic work of agnostics +like herself. She could see that he, burning with zeal to save the souls +of men, and believing that there was no hope for the world except in the +renunciation of the world, instinctively shrank from these contacts, +which, nevertheless, he sought in the spirit of a Jesuit missionary to a +barbarous tribe. + +It was possible for such a man to be for a time overmastered by human +passion; it was possible even that he might reason himself temporarily +into conduct that this natural passion seemed to justify; yet she never +doubted that there would follow an awakening from that state of mind as +from a horrible delusion. It was simply because Ruth Leigh was guided by +the exercise of reason, and had built up her scheme of life upon facts +that she believed she could demonstrate, that she saw so clearly their +relations, and felt that the faith, which was to her only a vagary of the +material brain, was to him an integral part of his life. + +Love, to be sure, was as unexpected in her scheme of life as it was in +his; but there was on her part no reason why she should not yield to it. +There was every reason in her nature and in her theory why she should, +for, bounded as her vision of life was by this existence, love was the +highest conceivable good in life. It had been with a great shout of joy +that the consciousness had come to her that she loved and was loved. +Though she might never see him again, this supreme experience for man or +woman, this unsealing of the sacred fountain of life, would be for her an +enduring sweetness in her lonely and laborious pilgrimage. How strong +love is they best know to whom it is offered and denied. + +And why, so far as she was concerned, should she deny it? An ordinary +woman probably would not. Love is reason enough. Why should artificial +conventions defeat it? Why should she sacrifice herself, if he were +willing to brave the opinion of the world for her sake? Was it any new +thing for good men to do this? But Ruth Leigh was not an ordinary woman. +Perhaps if her intellect had not been so long dominant over her heart it +would have been different. But the habit of being guided by reason was +second nature. She knew that not only his vow, but the habit of life +engendered by the vow, was an insuperable barrier. And besides, and this +was the touchstone of her conception of life and duty, she felt that if +he were to break his vow, though she might love him, her respect for him +would be impaired. + +It was a singular phenomenon--very much remarked at the time--that the +women who did not in the least share Father Damon's spiritual faith, and +would have called themselves in contradistinction materialists, were +those who admired him most, were in a way his followers, loved to attend +his services, were inspired by his personality, and drawn to him in a +loving loyalty. The attraction to these very women was his +unworldliness, his separateness, his devotion to an ideal which in their +reason seemed a delusion. And no women would have been more sensitive +than they to his fall from his spiritual pinnacle. + +It was easy with a little contrivance to avoid meeting him. She did not +go to the chapel or in its neighborhood when he was likely to be going to +or from service. She let others send for him when in her calls his +ministration was required, and she was careful not to linger where he was +likely to come. A little change in the time of her rounds was made +without neglecting her work, for that she would not do, and she trusted +that if accident threw him in her way, circumstances would make it +natural and not embarrassing. And yet his image was never long absent +from her thoughts; she wondered if he were dejected, if he were ill, if +he were lonely, and mostly there was for him a great pity in her heart, a +pity born, alas! of her own sense of loneliness. + +How much she was repressing her own emotions she knew one evening when +she returned from her visits and found a letter in his handwriting. The +sight of it was a momentary rapture, and then the expectation of what it +might contain gave her a feeling of faintness. The letter was long. Its +coming needs a word of explanation. + +Father Damon had begun to use the Margaret Fund. He found that its +judicious use was more perplexing than he had supposed. He needed +advice, the advice of those who had more knowledge than he had of the +merits of relief cases. And then there might be many sufferers whom he +in his limited field neglected. It occurred to him that Dr. Leigh would +be a most helpful co-almoner. No sooner did this idea come to him than +he was spurred to put it into effect. This common labor would be a sort +of bond between them, a bond of charity purified from all personal alloy. +He went at once to Mr. Henderson's office and told him his difficulties, +and about Dr. Leigh's work, and the opportunities she would have. Would +it not be possible for Dr. Leigh to draw from the fund on her own checks +independent of him? Mr. Henderson thought not. Dr. Leigh was no doubt a +good woman, but he didn't know much about woman visitors and that sort; +their sympathies were apt to run away with them, and he should prefer at +present to have the fund wholly under Father Damon's control. Some time, +he intimated, he might make more lasting provisions with trustees. It +would be better for Father Damon to give Dr. Leigh money as he saw she +needed it. + +The letter recited this at length; it had a check endorsed, and the +writer asked the doctor to be his almoner. He dwelt very much upon the +relief this would be to him, and the opportunity it would give her in +many emergencies, and the absolute confidence he had in her discretion, +as well as in her quick sympathy with the suffering about them. And also +it would be a great satisfaction to him to feel that he was associated +with her in such a work. + +In its length, in its tone of kindliness, of personal confidence, +especially in its length, it was evident that the writing of it had been +a pleasure, if not a relief, to the sender. Ruth read it and reread it. +It was as if Father Damon were there speaking to her. She could hear the +tones of his voice. And the glance of love--that last overmastering +appeal and cry thrilled through her soul. + +But in the letter there was no love; to any third person it would have +read like an ordinary friendly philanthropic request. And her reply, +accepting gratefully his trust, was almost formal, only the writer felt +that she was writing out of her heart. + + + + +XVIII + +The Roman poet Martial reckons among the elements of a happy life "an +income left, not earned by toil," and also "a wife discreet, yet blythe +and bright." Felicity in the possession of these, the epigrammatist +might have added, depends upon content in the one and full appreciation +of the other. + +Jack Delancy returned from Washington more discontented than when he +went. His speculation hung fire in a most tantalizing way; more than +that, it had absorbed nearly all the "income not earned by toil," which +was at the hazard of operations he could neither control nor comprehend. +And besides, this little fortune had come to seem contemptibly +inadequate. In his associations of the past year his spendthrift habits +had increased, and he had been humiliated by his inability to keep pace +with the prodigality of those with whom he was most intimate. Miss +Tavish was an heiress in her own right, who never seemed to give a +thought to the cost of anything she desired; the Hendersons, for any +whim, drew upon a reservoir of unknown capacity; and even Mavick began to +talk as if he owned a flock of geese that laid golden eggs. + +To be sure, it was pleasant coming home into an atmosphere of sincerity, +of worship--was it not? It was very flattering to his self-esteem. The +master had come! The house was in commotion. Edith flew to meet him, +hugged him, shook him, criticised his appearance, rallied him for a +recreant father. How well she looked-buoyant, full of vivacity, running +over with joy, asking a dozen questions before he could answer one, +testifying her delight, her affection, in a hundred ways. And the boy! +He was so eager to see his papa. He could converse now--that is, in his +way. And that prodigy, when Jack was dragged into his presence, and also +fell down with Edith and worshiped him in his crib, did actually smile, +and appear to know that this man belonged to him, was a part of his +worldly possessions. + +"Do you know," said Edith, looking at the boy critically, "I think of +making Fletcher a present, if you approve." + +"What's that?" + +"He'll want some place to go to in the summer. I want to buy that old +place where he was born and give it to him. Don't you think it would be +a good investment?" + +"Yes, permanent," replied Jack, laughing at such a mite of a real-estate +owner. + +"I know he would like it. And you don't object?" + +"Not in the least. It's next to an ancestral feeling to be the father of +a land-owner." + +They were standing close to the crib, his arm resting lightly across her +shoulders. He drew her closer to him, and kissed her tenderly. "The +little chap has a golden-hearted mother. I don't know why he should not +have a Golden House." + +Her eyes filled with sudden tears. She could not speak. But both arms +were clasped round his neck now. She was too happy for words. And the +baby, looking on with large eyes, seemed to find nothing unusual in the +proceeding. He was used to a great deal of this sort of nonsense +himself. + +It was a happy evening. In truth, after the first surprise, Jack was +pleased with this contemplated purchase. It was something removed beyond +temptation. Edith's property was secure to her, and it was his honorable +purpose never to draw it into his risks. But he knew her generosity, and +he could not answer for himself if she should offer it, as he was sure +she would do, to save him from ruin. + +There was all the news to tell, the harmless gossip of daily life, which +Edith had a rare faculty of making dramatically entertaining, with her +insight and her feeling for comedy. There had been a musicale at the +Blunts'--oh, strictly amateur--and Edith ran to the piano and imitated +the singers and took off the players, until Jack declared that it beat +the Conventional Club out of sight. And she had been to a parlor mind- +cure lecture, and to a Theosophic conversation, and to a Reading Club for +the Cultivation of a Feeling for Nature through Poetry. It was all +immensely solemn and earnest. And Jack wondered that the managers did +not get hold of these things and put them on the stage. Nothing could +draw like them. Not burlesques, though, said Edith; not in the least. +If only these circles would perform in public as they did in private, how +they would draw! + +And then Father Damon had been to consult her about his fund. He had +been ill, and would not stay, and seemed more severe and ascetic than +ever. She was sure something was wrong. For Dr. Leigh, whom she had +sought out several times, was reserved, and did not voluntarily speak of +Father Damon; she had heard that he was throwing himself with more than +his usual fervor into his work. There was plenty to talk about. +The purchase of the farm by the sea had better not be delayed; Jack might +have to go down and see the owner. Yes, he would make it his first +business in the morning. Perhaps it would be best to get some Long- +Islander to buy it for them. + +By the time it was ten o'clock, Jack said he thought he would step down +to the Union a moment. Edith's countenance fell. There might be +letters, he explained, and he had a little matter of business; he +wouldn't be late. + +It was very agreeable, home was, and Edith was charming. He could +distinctly feel that she was charming. But Jack was restless. He felt +the need of talking with somebody about what was on his mind. If only +with Major Fairfax. He would not consult the Major, but the latter was +in the way of picking up all sorts of gossip, both social and Street +gossip. + +And the Major was willing to unpack his budget. It was not very +reassuring, what he had to tell; in fact, it was somewhat depressing, the +general tightness and the panicky uncertainty, until, after a couple of +glasses of Scotch, the financial world began to open a little and seem +more hopeful. + +"The Hendersons are going to build," Jack said at length, after a remark +of the Major's about that famous operator. + +"Build? What for? They've got a palace." + +"Carmen says it's for an object-lesson. To show New York millionaires +how to adorn their city." + +"It's like that little schemer. What does Henderson say?" + +"He appears to be willing. I can't get the hang of Henderson. He +doesn't seem to care what his wife does. He's a cynical cuss. The other +night, at dinner, in Washington, when the thing was talked over, he said: +'My dear, I don't know why you shouldn't do that as well as anything. +Let's build a house of gold, as Nero did; we are in the Roman age.' +Carmen looked dubious for a moment, but she said, 'You know, Rodney, that +you always used to say that some time you would show New York what a +house ought to be in this climate.' 'Well, go on,' and he laughed. +'I suppose lightning will not strike that sooner than anything else.'" +"Seems to me," said the Major, reflectively, reaching out his hand for +the brown mug, "the way he gives that woman her head, and doesn't care +what she does, he must have a contempt for her." + +"I wish somebody had that sort of contempt for me," said Jack, filling up +his glass also. + +"But, I tell you," he continued, "Mrs. Henderson has caught on to the new +notions. Her idea is the union of all the arts. She has already got the +refusal of a square 'way up-town, on the rise opposite the Park, and has +been consulting architects about it. It is to be surrounded with the +building, with a garden in the interior, a tropical garden, under glass +in the winter. The facades are to be gorgeous and monumental. Artists +and sculptors are to decorate it, inside and out. Why shouldn't there be +color on the exterior, gold and painting, like the Fugger palaces in +Augsburg, only on a great scale? The artists don't see any reason why +there should not. It will make the city brilliant, that sort of thing, +in place of our monotonous stone lanes. And it's using her wealth for +the public benefit-the architects and artists all say that. Gad, I don't +know but the little woman is beginning to regard herself as a public +benefactor." + +"She is that or nothing," echoed the Major, warmly. + +"And do you know," continued Jack, confidentially, "I think she's got the +right idea. If I have any luck--of course I sha'n't do that--but if I +have any luck, I mean to build a house that's got some life in it--color, +old boy--something unique and stunning." + +"So you will," cried the Major, enthusiastically, and, raising his glass, +"Here's to the house that Jack built!" + +It was later than he thought it would be when he went home, but Jack was +attended all the way by a vision of a Golden House--all gold wouldn't be +too good, and he will build it, damme, for Edith and the boy. +The next morning not even the foundations of this structure were visible. +The master of the house came down to a late breakfast, out of sorts with +life, almost surly. Not even Edith's bright face and fresh toilet and +radiant welcome appealed to him. No one would have thought from her +appearance that she had waited for him last night hour after hour, and +had at last gone to bed with a heavy heart, and not to sleep-to toss, and +listen, and suffer a thousand tortures of suspense. How many tragedies +of this sort are there nightly in the metropolis, none the less tragic +because they are subjects of jest in the comic papers and on the stage! +What would be the condition of social life if women ceased to be anxious +in this regard, and let loose the reins in an easy-going indifference? +What, in fact, is the condition in those households where the wives do +not care? One can even perceive a tender sort of loyalty to women in the +ejaculation of that battered old veteran, the Major, "Thank God, there's +nobody sitting up for me!" + +Jack was not consciously rude. He even asked about the baby. And he +sipped his coffee and glanced over the morning journal, and he referred +to the conversation of the night before, and said that he would look +after the purchase at once. If Edith had put on an aspect of injury, and +had intimated that she had hoped that his first evening at home might +have been devoted to her and the boy, there might have been a scene, for +Jack needed only an occasion to vent his discontent. And for the +chronicler of social life a scene is so much easier to deal with, an +outburst of temper and sharp language, of accusation and recrimination, +than the well-bred commonplace of an undefined estrangement. + +And yet estrangement is almost too strong a word to use in Jack's case. +He would have been the first to resent it. But the truth was that Edith, +in the life he was leading, was a rebuke to him; her very purity and +unworldliness were out of accord with his associations, with his +ventures, with his dissipations in that smart and glittering circle where +he was more welcome the more he lowered his moral standards. Could he +help it if after the first hours of his return he felt the restraint of +his home, and that the life seemed a little flat? Almost unconsciously +to himself, his interests and his inclinations were elsewhere. + +Edith, with the divination of a woman, felt this. Last night her love +alone seemed strong enough to hold him, to bring him back to the purposes +and the aspirations that only last summer had appeared to transform him. +Now he was slipping away again. How pitiful it is, this contest of a +woman who has only her own love, her own virtue, with the world and its +allurements and seductions, for the possession of her husband's heart! +How powerless she is against these subtle invitations, these unknown and +all-encompassing temptations! At times the whole drift of life, of the +easy morality of the time, is against her. The current is so strong that +no wonder she is often swept away in it. And what could an impartial +observer of things as they are say otherwise than that John Delancy was +leading the common life of his kind and his time, and that Edith was only +bringing trouble on herself by being out of sympathy with it? + +He might not be in at luncheon, he said, when he was prepared to go down- +town. He seldom was. He called at his broker's. Still suspense. He +wrote to the Long Island farmer. At the Union he found a scented note +from Carmen. They had all returned from the capital. How rejoiced she +was to be at home! And she was dying to see him; no, not dying, but very +much living; and it was very important. She should expect him at the +usual hour. And could he guess what gown she would wear? + +And Jack went. What hold had this woman on him? Undoubtedly she had +fascinations, but he knew--knew well enough by this time--that her +friendship was based wholly on calculation. And yet what a sympathetic +comrade she could be! How freely he could talk with her; there was no +subject she did not adapt herself to. No doubt it was this adaptability +that made her such a favorite. She did not demand too much virtue or +require too much conventionality. The hours he was with her he was +wholly at his ease. She made him satisfied with himself, and she didn't +disturb his conscience. + +"I think," said Jack--he was holding both her hands with a swinging +motion--when she came forward to greet him, and looking at her +critically--"I think I like you better in New York than in Washington." + +"That is because you see more of me here." + +"Oh, I saw you enough in Washington." + +"But that was my public manner. I have to live up to Mr. Henderson's +reputation." + +"And here you only have to live up to mine?" + +"I can live for my friends," she replied, with an air of candor, giving a +very perceptible pressure with her little hands. "Isn't that enough?" + +Jack kissed each little hand before he let it drop, and looked as if he +believed. + +"And how does the house get on?" + +"Famously. The lot is bought. Mr. Van Brunt was here all the morning. +It's going to be something Oriental, mediaeval, nineteenth-century, +gorgeous, and domestic. Van Brunt says he wants it to represent me." + +"How?" inquired Jack; "all the four facades different?" + +"With an interior unity--all the styles brought to express an individual +taste, don't you know. A different house from the four sides of +approach, and inside, home--that's the idea." + +"It appears to me," said Jack, still bantering, "that it will look like +an apartment-house." + +"That is just what it will not--that is, outside unity, and inside a +menagerie. This won't look gregarious. It is to have not more than +three stories, perhaps only two. And then exterior color, decoration, +statuary." + +"And gold?" + +"Not too much--not to give it a cheap gilded look. Oh, I asked him about +Nero's house. As I remember it, that was mostly caverns. Mr. Van Brunt +laughed, and said they were not going to excavate this house. The Roman +notion was barbarous grandeur. But in point of beauty and luxury, this +would be as much superior to Nero's house as the electric light is to a +Roman lamp." + +"Not classic, then?" + +"Why, all that's good in classic form, with the modern spirit. You ought +to hear Mr. Van Brunt talk. This country has never yet expressed itself +in domestic inhabitation." + +"It's going to cost! What does Mr. Henderson say?" + +"I think he rather likes it. He told Mr. Van Brunt to consult me and go +ahead with his plans. But he talks queerly. He said he thought he would +have money enough at least for the foundation. Do you think, Jack," +asked Carmen, with a sudden change of manner, "that Mr. Henderson is +really the richest man in the United States?" + +"Some people say so. Really, I don't know how any one can tell. If he +let go his hand from his affairs, I don't know what a panic would do." + +Carmen looked thoughtful. "He said to me once that he wasn't afraid of +the Street any more. I told him this morning that I didn't want to begin +this if it was going to incommode him." + +"What did he say?" + +"He was just going out. He looked at me a moment with that speculative +sort of look-no, it isn't cynical, as you say; I know it so well--and +then said: 'Oh, go ahead. I guess it will be all right. If anything +happens, you can turn it into a boardinghouse. It will be an excellent +sanitarium.' That was all. Anyway, it's something to do. Come, let's +go and see the place." And she started up and touched the bell for the +carriage. It was more than something to do. In those days before her +marriage, when her mother was living, and when they wandered about +Europe, dangerously near to the reputation of adventuresses, the girl had +her dream of chateaux and castles and splendor. Her chance did not come +in Europe, but, as she would have said, Providence is good to those who +wait. + +The next day Jack went to Long Island, and the farm was bought, and the +deed brought to Edith, who, with much formality, presented it to the boy, +and that young gentleman showed his appreciation of it by trying to eat +it. It would have seemed a pretty incident to Jack, if he had not been +absorbed in more important things. + +But he was very much absorbed, and apparently more idle than ever. As +the days went on, and the weeks, he was less and less at home, and in a +worse humor--that is, at home. Carmen did not find him ill-humored, nor +was there any change towards the fellows at the Union, except that it was +noticed that he had his cross days. There was nothing specially to +distinguish him from a dozen others, who led the same life of vacuity, of +mild dissipation, of enforced pleasure. A wager now and then on an +"event"; a fictitious interest in elections; lively partisanship in +society scandals: Not much else. The theatres were stale, and only +endurable on account of the little suppers afterwards; and really there +wasn't much in life except the women who made it agreeable. + +Major Fairfax was not a model; there had not much survived out of his +checkered chances and experiences, except a certain instinct of being a +gentleman, sir; the close of his life was not exactly a desirable goal; +but even the Major shook his head over Jack. + + + + +XIX + +The one fact in which men universally agree is that we come into the +world alone and we go out of the world alone; and although we travel in +company, make our pilgrimage to Canterbury or to Vanity Fair in a great +show of fellowship, and of bearing one another's burdens, we carry our +deepest troubles alone. When we think of it, it is an awful lonesomeness +in this animated and moving crowd. Each one either must or will carry +his own burden, which he commonly cannot, or by pride or shame will not, +ask help in carrying. + +Henderson drew more and more apart from confidences, and was alone in +building up the colossal structure of his wealth. Father Damon was +carrying his renewed temptation alone, after all his brave confession and +attempt at renunciation. Ruth Leigh plodded along alone, with her secret +which was the joy and the despair of her life--the opening of a gate into +the paradise which she could never enter. Jack Delancy, the confiding, +open-hearted good fellow, had come to a stage in his journey where he +also was alone. Not even to Carmen could he confess the extent of his +embarrassments, nor even in her company, nor in the distraction of his +increasingly dissipated life, could he forget them. Not only had his +investments been all transferred to his speculations, but his home had +been mortgaged, and he did not dare tell Edith of the lowering cloud that +hung over it; and that his sole dependence was the confidence of the +Street, which any rumor might shatter, in that one of Henderson's schemes +to which he had committed himself. Edith, the one person who could have +comforted him, was the last person to whom he could have told this, for +he had the most elementary, and the common conception of what marriage +is. + +But Edith's lot was the most pitiful of all. She was not only alone, but +compelled to inaction. She saw the fair fabric of her life dissolving, +and neither by cries nor tears, by appeals nor protest, by show of anger +nor by show of suffering, could she hinder the dissolution. Strong in +herself and full of courage, day by day and week by week she felt her +powerlessness. Heaven knows what it cost her--what it costs all women in +like circumstances--to be always cheerful, never to show distrust. If +her love were not enough, if her attractions were not enough, there was +no human help to which she could appeal. + +And what, pray, was there to appeal? There was no visible neglect, no +sufficient alienation for gossip to take hold of. If there was a little +talk about Jack's intimacy elsewhere, was there anything uncommon in +that? Affairs went on as usual. Was it reasonable to suppose that +society should notice that one woman's heart was full of foreboding, +heavy with a sense of loss and defeat, and with the ruin of two lives? +Could simple misery like this rise to the dignity of tragedy in a world +that has its share of tragedies, shocking and violent, but is on the +whole going on decorously and prosperously? + +The season wore on. It was the latter part of May. Jack had taken Edith +and the boy down to the Long Island house, and had returned to the city +and was living at his club, feverishly waiting for some change in his +affairs. It was a sufficient explanation of his anxiety that money was +"tight," that failures were daily announced, and that there was a general +fear of worse times. It was fortunate for Jack and other speculators +that they could attribute their ill-luck to the general financial +condition. There were reasons enough for this condition. Some +attributed it to want of confidence, others to the tariff, others to the +action of this or that political party, others to over-production, others +to silver, others to the action of English capitalists in withdrawing. +their investments. It could all be accounted for without referring to +the fact that most of the individual sufferers, like Jack, owed more than +they could pay. + +Henderson was much of the time absent--at the West and at the South. +His every move was watched, his least sayings were reported as +significant, and the Street was hopeful or depressed as he seemed to be +cheerful or unusually taciturn. Uncle Jerry was the calmest man in town, +and his observation that Henderson knew what he was about was reassuring. +His serenity was well founded. The fact was that he had been pulling in +and lowering canvas for months. Or, as he put it, he hadn't much hay +out. . . "It's never a good plan," said Uncle Jerry, "to put off raking +up till the shower begins." + +It seems absurd to speak of the East Side in connection with the +financial situation. But that was where the pinch was felt, and felt +first. Work was slack, and that meant actual hunger for many families. +The monetary solidarity of the town is remarkable. No one flies a kite +in Wall Street that somebody in Rivington Street does not in consequence +have to go without his dinner. As Dr. Leigh went her daily rounds she +encountered painful evidence of the financial disturbance. Increased +number of cases for the doctor followed want of sufficient food and the +eating of cheap, unwholesome food. She was often obliged to draw upon +the Margaret Fund, and to invoke the aid of Father Damon when the +responsibility was too great for her. And Father Damon found that his +ministry was daily diverted from the cure of souls to the care of bodies. +Among all those who came to the mission as a place of refuge and rest, +and to whom the priest sought to offer the consolations of religion and +of his personal sympathy, there were few who did not have a tale of +suffering to tell that wrung his heart. Some of them were actually ill, +or had at home a sick husband or a sick daughter. And such cases had to +be reported to Dr. Leigh. + +It became necessary, therefore, that these two, who had shunned each +other for months, should meet as often as they had done formerly. This +was very hard for both, for it meant only the renewal of heart-break, +regret, and despair. And yet it had been almost worse when they did not +see each other. They met; they talked of nothing but their work; they +tried to forget themselves in their devotion to humanity. But the human +heart will not be thus disposed of. It was impossible that some show of +personal interest, some tenderness, should not appear. They were walking +towards Fourth Avenue one evening--the priest could not resist the +impulse to accompany her a little way towards her home--after a day of +unusual labor and anxiety. + +"You are working too hard," he said, gently; "you look fatigued." + +"Oh no," she replied, looking up cheerfully; "I'm a regular machine. +I get run down, and then I wind up. I get tired, and then I get rested. +It isn't the work," she added, after a moment, "if only I could see any +good of it. It seems so hopeless." + +"From your point of view, my dear doctor," he answered, but without any +shade of reproof in his tone. "But no good deed is lost. There is +nothing else in the world--nothing for me." The close of the sentence +seemed wholly accidental, and he stopped speaking as if he could not +trust himself to go on. + +Ruth Leigh looked up quickly. "But, Father Damon, it is you who ought to +be rebuked for overwork. You are undertaking too much. You ought to go +off for a vacation, and go at once." + +The father looked paler and thinner than usual, but his mouth was set in +firm lines, and he said: "It cannot be. My duty is here. And"--he +turned, and looked her full in the face--"I cannot go." + +No need to explain that simple word. No need to interpret the swift +glance that their eyes exchanged--the eager, the pitiful glance. They +both knew. It was not the work. It was not the suffering of the world. +It was the pain in their own hearts, and the awful chasm that his holy +vows had put between them. They stood so only an instant. He was +trembling in the extort to master himself, and in a second she felt the +hot blood rising to her face. Her woman's wit was the first to break the +hopeless situation. She turned, and hailed a passing car. "I cannot +walk any farther. Good-night." And she was gone. + +The priest stood as if a sudden blow had struck him, following the +retreating car till it was out of sight, and then turned homeward, dazed, +and with feeble steps. What was this that had come to him to so shake +his life? What devil was tempting him to break his vows and forsake his +faith? Should he fly from the city and from his work, or should he face +what seemed to him, in the light of his consecration, a monstrous +temptation, and try to conquer himself? He began to doubt his power to +do this. He had always believed that it was easy to conquer nature. +And now a little brown woman had taught him that he reckons ill who +leaves out the strongest human passion. And yet suppose he should break +his solemn vows and throw away his ideal, and marry Ruth Leigh, would he +ever be happy? Here was a mediaeval survival confronted by a nineteenth- +century skepticism. The situation was plainly insoluble. It was as +plainly so to the clear mind of the unselfish little woman without faith +as it was to him. Perhaps she could not have respected him if he had +yielded. Strangely enough, the attraction of the priest for her and for +other women who called themselves servants of humanity was in his +consecration, in his attitude of separation from the vanities and +passions of this world. They believed in him, though they did not share +his faith. To Ruth Leigh this experience of love was as unexpected as it +was to the priest. Perhaps because her life was lived on a less exalted +plane she could bear it with more equanimity. But who knows? The habit +of her life was endurance, the sturdy meeting of the duty of every day, +with at least only a calm regard of the future. And she would go on. +But who can measure the inner change in her life? She must certainly be +changed by this deep experience, and, terrible as it was, perhaps +ennobled by it. Is there not something supernatural in such a love +itself? It has a wonderful transforming power. It is certain that a new +light, a tender light, was cast upon her world. And who can say that +some time, in the waiting and working future, this new light might not +change life altogether for this faithful soul? + +There was one person upon whom the tragedy of life thus far sat lightly. +Even her enemies, if she had any, would not deny that Carmen had an +admirable temperament. If she had been a Moslem, it might be predicted +that she would walk the wire 'El Serat' without a tremor. In these days +she was busy with the plans of her new house. The project suited her +ambition and her taste. The structure grew in her mind into barbaric +splendor, but a barbaric splendor refined, which reveled in the exquisite +adornment of the Alhambra itself. She was in daily conferences with her +architect and her artists, she constantly consulted Jack about it, and +Mavick whenever he was in town, and occasionally she awakened the +interest of Henderson himself, who put no check upon her proceedings, +although his mind was concerned with a vaster structure of his own. +She talked of little else, until in her small world there grew up a vast +expectation of magnificence, of which hints appeared from time to time in +the newspapers, mysterious allusions to Roman luxury, to Nero and his +Golden House. Henderson read these paragraphs, as he read the paragraphs +about his own fortune, with a grim smile. + +"Your house is getting a lot of free advertising," he said to Carmen one +evening after dinner in the library, throwing the newspaper on the table +as he spoke. + +"They all seem to like the idea," replied Carmen. "Did you see what one +of the papers said about the use of wealth in adorning the city? That's +my notion." + +"I suppose," said Henderson, with a smile, "that you put that notion into +the reporter's head." + +"But he thought he suggested it to me." + +"Let's look over the last drawing." Henderson half rose from his chair +to pull the sheet towards him, but instantly sank back, and put his hand +to his heart. Carmen saw that he was very pale, and ran round to his +chair. + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing," he said, taking a long breath. "Just a stitch. Indigestion. +It must have been the coffee." + +Carmen ran to the dining-room, and returned with a wineglass of brandy. + +"There, take that." + +He drank it. "Yes, that's better. I'm all right now." And he sat +still, slowly recovering color and control of himself. + +"I'm going to send for the doctor." + +"No, no; nonsense. It has all passed," and he stretched out his arms +and threw them back vigorously. "It was only a moment's faintness. It's +quite gone." + +He rose from his chair and took a turn or two about the room. Yes, he +was quite himself, and he patted Carmen's head as he passed and took his +seat again. For a moment or two there was silence. Then he said, still +as if reflecting: + +"Isn't it queer? In that moment of faintness all my life flashed through +my mind." + +"It has been a very successful life," Carmen said, by way of saying +something. + +"Yes, yes; but I wonder if it was worth while?" + +"If I were a man, I should enjoy the power you have, the ability to do +what you will." + +"I suppose I do. That is all there is. I like to conquer obstacles, and +I like to command. And money; I never did care for money in itself. +But there is a fascination in building up a great fortune. It is like +conducting a political or a military campaign. Now, I haven't much +interest in anything else." + +As he spoke he looked round upon the crowded shelves of his library, and, +getting up, went to the corner where there was a shelf of rare editions +and took down a volume. + +"Do you remember when I got this, Carmen? It was when I was a bachelor. +It was rare then. I saw it quoted the other day as worth twice the price +I gave for it." + +He replaced it carefully, and walked along the shelves looking at the +familiar titles. + +"I used to read then. And you read still; you have time." + +"Not those books," she replied, with a laugh. "Those belong to the last +generation." + +"That is where I belong," he said, smiling also. "I don't think I have +read a book, not really read it, in ten years. This modern stuff that +pretends to give life is so much less exciting than my own daily +experience that I cannot get interested in it. Perhaps I could read +these calm old books." + +"It is the newspapers that take your time," Carmen suggested. + +"Yes, they pass the time when I am thinking. And they are full of +suggestions. I suppose they are as accurate about other things as about +me. I used to think I would make this library the choicest in the city. +It is good as far as it goes. Perhaps I will take it up some day--if I +live." And he turned away from the shelves and sat down. Carmen had +never seen him exactly in this humor and was almost subdued by it. + +He began to talk again, philosophizing about life generally and his own +life. He seemed to like to recall his career, and finally said: "Uncle +Jerry is successful too, and he never did care for anything else--except +his family. There is a clerk in my office on five thousand a year who is +never without a book when he comes to the office and when I see him on +the train. He has a wife and a nice little family in Jersey. I ask him +sometimes about his reading. He is collecting a library, but not of rare +books; says he cannot afford that. I think he is successful too, or will +be if he never gets more than five thousand a year, and is content with +his books and his little daily life, coming and going to his family. +Ah, well! Everybody must live his life. I suppose there is some +explanation of it all." + +"Has anything gone wrong?" asked Carmen, anxiously. + +"No, not at all. Nothing to interfere with the house of gold." He spoke +quite gently and sincerely. "I don't know what set me into this +moralizing. Let's look at the plans." + +The next day--it was the first of June--in consultation with the +architect, a project was broached that involved such an addition of cost +that Carmen hesitated. She declared that it was a question of ways and +means, and that she must consult the chairman. Accordingly she called +her carriage and drove down to Henderson's office. + +It was a beautiful day, a little warm in the narrow streets of the lower +city, but when she had ascended by the elevator to the high story that +Henderson occupied in one of the big buildings that rise high enough to +give a view of New York Harbor, and looked from the broad windows upon +one of the most sparkling and animated scenes in the world, it seemed +to her appreciative eyes a day let down out of Paradise. + +The clerks all knew Mrs. Henderson, and they rose and bowed as she +tripped along smiling towards her husband's rooms. It did not seem to be +a very busy day, and she found no one waiting in the anteroom, and passed +into the room of his private secretary. + +"Is Mr. Henderson in?" + +"Yes, madam." + +"And busy?" + +"Probably busy," replied the secretary, with a smile, "but he is alone. +No one has disturbed him for over half an hour." + +"Then I will go in." + +She tapped lightly at the door. There was no response. She turned the +knob softly and looked in, and then, glancing back at the secretary, with +a finger uplifted, "I think he is asleep," opened the door, stepped in, +and closed it carefully. + +The large room was full of light, and through the half-dozen windows +burst upon her the enchanting scene of the Bay, Henderson sat at his +table, which was covered with neatly arranged legal documents, but bowed +over it, his head resting upon his arms. + +"So, Rodney, this is the way, old boy, that you wear yourself out in +business!" + +She spoke laughingly, but he did not stir, and she tiptoed along to +awaken him. + +She touched his hand. It moved heavily away from her hand. The left +arm, released, dropped at his side. + +She started back, her eyes round with terror, and screamed. + +Instantly the secretary was at her side, and supported her, fainting, to +a seat. Other clerks rushed in at the alarm. Henderson was lifted from +his chair and laid upon a lounge. When the doctor who had been called +arrived, Carmen was in a heap by the low couch, one arm thrown across the +body, and her head buried in the cushion close to his. + +The doctor instantly applied restoratives; he sent for an electric +battery; everything was done that science could suggest. But all was of +no avail. There was no sign of life. He must have been dead half an +hour, said the doctor. It was evidently heart-failure. + +Before the doctor had pronounced his verdict there was a whisper in the +Stock Exchange. + +"Henderson is dead!" + +"It is not possible," said one. + +"I saw him only yesterday," said another. + +"I was in his office this morning," said a third. "I never saw him +looking in better health." + +The whisper was confirmed. There was no doubt of it. Henderson's +private secretary had admitted it. Yet it seemed incredible. No +provision had been made for it. Speculation had not discounted it. +A panic set in. No one knew what to do, for no one knew well the state +of Henderson's affairs. In the first thirty minutes there was a +tremendous drop in Henderson stocks. Then some of them rallied, but +before the partial recovery hundreds of men had been ruined. It was a +wild hour in the Exchange. Certain stocks were hopelessly smashed for +the time, and some combinations were destroyed; among them was one that +Uncle Jerry had kept out of; and Jack Delancy was hopelessly ruined. + +The event was flashed over the wires of the continent; it was bulletined; +it was cried in the streets; it was the all-absorbing talk of the town. +Already, before the dead man was removed to his own house, people were +beginning to moralize about him and his career. Perhaps the truest thing +was said by the old broker in the board whose reputation for piety was +only equaled by his reputation of always having money to loan at +exorbitant rates in a time of distress. He said to a group of downcast +operators, "In the midst of life we are in death." + + + + +XX + +The place that Rodney Henderson occupied in the mind of the public was +shown by the attention the newspapers paid to his death. All the great +newspapers in all the cities of importance published long and minute +biographies of him, with pictorial illustrations, and day after day +characteristic anecdotes of his remarkable career. Nor was there, it is +believed, a newspaper in the United States, secular, religious, or +special, that did not comment upon his life. This was the more +remarkable in that he was not a public man in the common use of the word: +he had never interested himself in politics, or in public affairs, +municipal or State or national; he had devoted himself entirely to +building up his private fortune. If this is the duty of a citizen, he +had discharged it with singleness of purpose; but no other duty of the +citizen had he undertaken, if we except his private charities. And yet +no public man of his day excited more popular interest or was the subject +of more newspaper comment. + +And these comments were nearly all respectful, and most of them kindly. +There was some justice in this, for Henderson had been doing what +everybody else was trying to do, usually without his good-fortune. +If he was more successful than others in trying to get rich, surely a +great deal of admiration was mingled with the envy of his career. To be +sure, some journals were very severe upon his methods, and some revived +the old stories of his unscrupulousness in transactions which had laid +him open to criminal prosecution, from the effects of which he was only +saved by uncommon adroitness and, some said, by legal technicalities. +His career also was denounced by some as wholly vicious in its effect +upon the youth of the republic, and as lowering the tone of public +morals. And yet it was remembered that he had been a frank, open-hearted +friend, kind to his family, and generous in contrast with some of his +close-fisted contemporaries. There was nothing mean about him; even his +rascalities, if you chose to call his transactions by that name, were on +a grand scale. To be sure, he would let nothing stand between him and +the consummation of his schemes--he was like Napoleon in that--but those +who knew him personally liked him. The building up of his colossal +fortune--which the newspapers were saying was the largest that had been +accumulated in one lifetime in America--had ruined thousands of people, +and carried disaster into many peaceful houses, and his sudden death had +been a cyclone of destruction for an hour. But it was hardly fair, one +journal pointed out, to hold Henderson responsible for his untimely +death. + +Even Jack Delancy, when the crushing news was brought him at the club, +where he sat talking with Major Fairfax, although he saw his own ruin in +a flash, said, "It wouldn't have happened if Henderson had lived." + +"Not so soon," replied the Major, hesitatingly. + +"Do you mean to say that Henderson and Mavick and Mrs. Henderson would +have thrown me over?" + +"Why, no, not exactly; but a big machine grinds on regardless, and when +the crash comes everybody looks out for himself." + +"I think I'll telegraph to Mavick." + +"That wouldn't do any good now. He couldn't have stopped the panic. +I tell you what, you'd better go down to your brokers and see just how +matters stand." + +And the two went down to Wall Street. It was after hours, but the +brokers' office was full of excitement. No one knew what was left from +the storm, nor what to expect. It was some time before Jack could get +speech with one of the young men of the firm. + +"How is it?" he asked. + +"It's been a ---- of a time." + +"And Henderson?" + +"Oh, his estate is all right, so far as we know. He was well out of the +Missouris." + +"And the Missouri?" + +"Bottom dropped out; temporarily, anyway." + +"And my account?" + +"Wiped out, I am sorry to say. Might come up by-and-by, if you've got a +lot of money to put up, and wait." + +"Then it's all up," said Jack, turning to the Major. He was very pale. +He knew now that his fortune was gone absolutely--house, everything. + +Few words were exchanged as they made their way back to the club. And +here the Major did a most unusual thing for him. He ordered the drinks. +But he did this delicately, apologetically. + +"I don't know as you care for anything, but Wall Street has made me +thirsty. Eh?" + +"I don't mind if I do," Jack replied. + +And they sat down. + +The conversation was not cheerful; it was mainly ejaculatory. After a +second glass, Jack said, "I don't suppose it would do any good, but I +should like to see Mavick." And then, showing the drift of his thoughts, +"I wonder what Carmen will do?" + +"I should say that will depend upon the will," replied the Major. + +"She is a good-hearted woman," and Jack's tone was one of inquiry. + +"She hasn't any, Jack. Not the least bit of a heart. And I believe +Henderson found it out. I shall be surprised if his will doesn't show +that he knew it." + +A servant came to the corner where they were sitting and handed Jack a +telegram. + +"What's this? Mavick? "He tore it open. "No; Edith." He read it with +something like a groan, and passed it over to the Major. + +What he read was this: "Don't be cast down, Jack. The boy and I are +well. Come. Edith." + +"That is splendid; that is just like her," cried the Major. "I'd be out +of this by the first train." + +"It is no use," replied Jack gloomily. "I couldn't 'face Edith now. +I couldn't do it. I wonder how she knew?" + +He called back the servant, and penned as reassuring a message as he +could, but said that it was impossible to leave town. She must not worry +about him. This despatched, they fell again into a talk about the +situation. After another glass Jack was firm in his resolution to stay +and watch things. It seemed not impossible that something might turn up. + +On the third day after, both the Major and Jack attended the funeral at +the house. Carmen was not visible. The interment was private. The day +following, Jack left his card of condolence at the door; but one day +passed, and another and another, and no word of acknowledgment came from +the stricken widow. Jack said to himself that it was not natural to +expect it. But he did expect it, and without reason, for he should have +known that Carmen was not only overwhelmed with the sudden shock of her +calamity, but that she would necessarily be busy with affairs that even +grief would not permit her to neglect. Jack heard that Mavick had been +in the city, and that he went to the Henderson house, but he had not +called at the club, and the visit must have been a flying one. + +A week passed, and Jack received no message from Carmen. His note +offering his services if she needed the services of any one had not been +answered. + +Carmen was indeed occupied. It could not be otherwise. The state of +Henderson's affairs could not wait upon conventionalities. The day after +the funeral Mr. Henderson's private secretary came to the house, and had +a long interview with Mrs. Henderson. He explained to her that the +affairs should be immediately investigated, the will proved, and the +estate put into the hands of the executors. It would be best for Mrs. +Henderson herself to bring his keys down to the office, and to see the +opening of his desk and boxes. Meantime it would be well for her to see +if there were any papers of importance in the house; probably everything +was in the office safe. + +The next morning Carmen nerved herself to the task. With his keys in +hand she went alone into the library and opened his writing-desk. +Everything was in perfect order; letters and papers filed and labeled, +and neatly arranged in drawers and pigeonholes. There lay his letter- +book as he had last used it, and there lay fresh memoranda of his +projects and engagements. She found in one of the drawers some letters +of her own, mostly notes, and most of them written before her marriage. +In another drawer were some bundles of letters, a little yellow with age, +endorsed with the name of "Margaret." She shut the drawer without +looking at them. She continued to draw papers from the pigeon-holes and +glance at them. Most of them related to closed transactions. At length +she drew out one that instantly fixed her attention. It was endorsed, +"Last Will and Testament." She looked first at the date at the end--it +was quite recent--and then leaned back in her chair and set herself +deliberately to read it. + +The document was long and full of repetitions and technicalities, but the +purport of it was plain. As she read on she was at first astonished, +then she was excited to trembling, and felt herself pale and faint; but +when she had finished and fully comprehended it her pretty face was +distorted with rage. The great bulk of the property was not for her. +She sprang up and paced the floor. She came back and took up the +document with a motion of tearing it in pieces. No--it would be better +to burn it. Of course there must be another will deposited in the safe. +Henderson had told her so. It was drawn up shortly after their marriage. +It could not be worse for her than this. She lighted the gas-jet by the +fireplace, and held the paper in her hand. Then a thought struck her. +What if somebody knew of this will, and its execution could be proved! +She looked again at the end. It was signed and sealed. There were the +names of two witnesses. One was the name of their late butler, who had +been long in Henderson's service, and who had died less than a month ago. +The other name was Thomas Mavick. Evidently the will had been signed +recently, on some occasion when Mavick was in the house. And Henderson's +lawyer probably knew it also! + +She folded the document carefully, put it back in the pigeon-hole, locked +the desk, and rang the bell for her carriage. She was ready when the +carriage came to the door, and told the coachman to drive to the office +of Mr. Sage in Nassau Street. Mr. Sage had been for many years +Henderson's most confidential lawyer. + +He received Carmen in his private office, with the subdued respect due to +her grief and the sudden tragedy that had overtaken her. He was a man +well along in years, a small man, neat in his dress, a little formal and +precise in his manner, with a smoothly shaven face and gray eyes, keen, +but not unkindly in expression. He had the reputation, which he +deserved, for great ability and integrity. After the first salutations +and words of condolence were spoken, Carmen said, "I have come to consult +you, Mr. Sage, about my husband's affairs." + +"I am quite at your service, madam." + +"I wanted to see you before I went to the office with the keys of his +safe." + +"Perhaps," said Mr. Sage, "I could spare you that trouble." + +"Oh no; his secretary thought I had better come myself, if I could." + +"Very well," said Mr. Sage. + +Carmen hesitated a moment, and then said, in an inquiring tone, +"I suppose the first thing is the will. He told me long ago that his +will was made. I suppose it is in the safe. Didn't you draw it, Mr. +Sage?" + +"Oh yes," the lawyer replied, leaning back in his chair, "I drew that; +a long time ago; shortly after your marriage. And about a year ago I +drew another one. Did he ever speak of that?" + +"No," Carmen replied, with a steady voice, but trembling inwardly at her +narrow escape. + +"I wonder," continued Mr. Sage, "if it was ever executed? He took it, +and said he would think it over." + +"Executed?" queried Carmen, looking up. "How do you mean, before a +magistrate?" + +"Oh, no; signed and witnessed. It is very simple. The law requires two +witnesses; the testator and the witnesses must declare that they sign in +the presence of each other. The witnesses prove the will, or, if they +are dead, their signatures can be proved. I was one of the witnesses of +the first will, and a clerk of Henderson's, who is still in his office, +was the other." + +"The last one is probably in the safe if it was executed." + +"Probably," the lawyer assented. "If not, you'd better look for it in +the house." + +"Of course. Whether it exists or not, I want to carry out my husband's +intention," Carmen said, sweetly. "Have you any memorandum of it?" + +"I think so, somewhere, but the leading provisions are in my mind. It +would astonish the public." + +"Why?" asked Carmen. + +"Well, the property was greater than any of us supposed, and--perhaps I +ought not to speak to you of this now, Mrs. Henderson." + +"I think I have a right to know what my husband's last wishes were," +Carmen answered, firmly. + +"Well, he had a great scheme. The greater part of his property after the +large legacies--" The lawyer saw that Carmen looked pale, and he +hesitated a moment, and then said, in a cheery manner: "Oh, I assure you, +madam, that this will gave you a great fortune; all the establishment, +and a very great fortune. But the residue was in trust for the building +and endowment of an Industrial School on the East Side, with a great +library and a reading-room, all to be free. It was a great scheme, and +carefully worked out." + +"I am so glad to know this," said Carmen. "Was there anything else?" + +"Only some legacies." And Mr. Sage went on, trying to recall details +that his attentive listener already knew. There were legacies to some of +his relatives in New Hampshire, and there was a fund, quite a handsome +fund, for the poor of the city, called the "Margaret Fund." And there +was something also for a relative of the late Mrs. Henderson. + +Carmen again expressed her desire to carry out her husband's wishes in +everything, and Mr. Sage was much impressed by her sweet manner. When +she had found out all that he knew or remembered of the new will, and +arose to go, Mr. Sage said he would accompany her to the office. And +Carmen gratefully accepted his escort, saying that she had wished to ask +him to go with her, but that she feared to take up so much of his time. + +At the office the first will was found, but no other. The lawyer glanced +through it, and then handed it to Mrs. Henderson, with the remark, "It +leaves you, madam, pretty much everything of which he died possessed." +Carmen put it aside. She did not care to read it now. She would go home +and search for the other one. + +"If no other is found," said Mr. Sage, in bidding her good-morning," +this one ought to be proved tomorrow. I may tell you that you and Mr. +Hollowell are named as executors." + +On her way home Carmen stopped at a telegraph station, and sent a message +to Mavick, in Washington, to take an afternoon train and come to New +York. + +When Carmen reached home she was in a serious but perfectly clear frame +of mind. The revelation in the last will of Henderson's change of mind +towards her was mortifying to a certain extent. It was true that his +fortune was much increased since the first will was made, and that it +justified his benevolent scheme. But he might have consulted her about +it. If she had argued the matter with her conscience, she would have +told her conscience that she would carry out this new plan in her own way +and time. She was master of the situation, and saw before her a future +of almost unlimited opportunity and splendor, except for one little +obstacle. That obstacle was Mr. Mavick. She believed that she +understood him thoroughly, but she could not take the next step until she +had seen him. It was true that no one except herself positively knew +that a second will now existed, but she did not know how much he might +choose to remember. + +She was very impatient to see Mr. Mavick. She wandered about the house, +restless and feverish. Presently it occurred to her that it would be +best to take the will wholly into her own keeping. She unlocked the +desk, took it out with a trembling hand, but did not open it again. +It was not necessary. A first reading had burned every item of it into +her brain. It seemed to be a sort of living thing. She despised herself +for being so agitated, and for the furtive feeling that overcame her as +she glanced about to be sure that she was alone, and then she ran up +stairs to her room and locked the document in her own writing-desk. + +What was that? Oh, it was only the door-bell. But who could it be? +Some one from the office, from her lawyer? She could see nobody. In two +minutes there was a rap at her door. It was only the servant with a +despatch. She took it and opened it without haste. + +"Very well, Dobson; no answer. I expect Mr. Mavick on business at ten. +I am at home to no one else." + +At ten o'clock Mr. Mavick came, and was shown into the library, where +Carmen awaited him. + +"It was very good of you to come," she said, as she advanced to meet him +and gave him her hand in the natural subdued manner that the +circumstances called for. + +"I took the first train after I received your despatch." + +"I am sorry to inconvenience you so," she said, after they were seated, +"but you know so much of Mr. Henderson's affairs that your advice will be +needed. His will is to be proved tomorrow." + +"Yes?" said Mavick. + +"I went to see--Mr. Sage today, and he went with me to the office. The +will was in the safe. I did not read it, but Mr. Sage said that it left +everything to me except a few legacies." + +"Yes?" + +"He said it should be proved tomorrow, unless a later will turned up." + +"Was there a later will?" + +"That is what he did not know. He had drawn a new will about a year ago, +but he doubted if it had ever been executed. Mr. Henderson was +considering it. He thought he had a memorandum of it somewhere, but he +remembered the principal features of it." + +"Was it a great change from the first?" Mavick asked. + +"Yes, considerable. In fact, the greater part of his property, as far as +I could make out, was to go to endow a vast training-school, library, and +reading-room on the East Side. Of course that would be a fine thing." + +"Of course," said Mavick. "And no such will has been found?" + +"I've looked everywhere," replied Carmen, simply; "all over the house. +It should be in that desk if anywhere. We can look again, but I feel +pretty sure there is no such document there." + +She took in her hand the bunch of keys that lay on the table, as if she +were about to rise and unlock the desk. Then she hesitated, and looked +Mavick full in the face. + +"Do you think, Mr. Mavick, that will was ever executed?" + +For a moment they looked steadily at each other, and then he said, +deliberately, their eyes squarely meeting, "I do not think it was." +And in a moment he added, "He never said anything to me about such a +disposition of his property." + +Two things were evident to Carmen from this reply. He saw her interests +as she saw them, and it was pretty certain that the contents of the will +were not made known to him when he witnessed it. She experienced an +immense feeling of relief as she arose and unlocked the desk. They sat +down before it together, and went over its contents. Mavick made a note +of the fresh business memoranda that might be of service next day, since +Mrs. Henderson had requested him to attend the proving of the will, and +to continue for the present the business relations with her that he had +held with Mr. Henderson. + +It was late when he left the house, but he took with him a note to Mr. +Sage to drop into the box for morning delivery. The note said that she +had searched the house, that no second will existed there, and that she +had telegraphed to Mr. Mavick, who had much knowledge of Mr. Henderson's +affairs, to meet him in the morning. And she read the note to Mavick +before she sealed it. + +Before the note could have been dropped into the box, Carmen was in her +room, and the note was literally true. No second will existed. + +The will was proved, and on the second day its contents were in all the +newspapers. But with it went a very exciting story. This was the rumor +of another will, and of Henderson's vast scheme of benevolence. Mr. Sage +had been interviewed and Carmen had been interviewed. The memorandum +(which was only rough and not wholly legible notes) had been found and +sent to Carmen. There was no concealment about it. She gave the +reporters all the details, and to every one she said that it was her +intention to carry out her husband's wishes, so far as they could be +ascertained from this memorandum, when his affairs had been settled. +The thirst of the reporters for information amused even Carmen, who had +seen much of this industrious tribe. One of them, to whom she had +partially explained the situation, ended by asking her, "Are you going to +contest the will?" + +"Contest the will?" cried Carmen. "There is nothing to contest." + +"I didn't know," said the young man, whose usual occupation was reporting +sports, and who had a dim idea that every big will must be contested. + +Necessarily the affair made a great deal of talk. The newspapers +discussed it for days, and turned over the scheme in every light, the +most saying that it was a noble gift to the city that had been intended, +while only one or two doubted if charity institutions of this sort really +helped the poor. Regret, of course, was expressed that the second will +had never been executed, but with this regret was the confidence that the +widow would carry out, eventually, Henderson's plans. + +This revelation modified the opinion in regard to Henderson. He came to +be regarded as a public benefactor, and his faithful wife shared the +credit of his noble intention. + + + + +XXI + +Waiting for something to turn up, Jack found a weary business. He had +written to Mavick after the newspaper report that that government officer +had been in the city on Henderson's affairs, and had received a very +civil and unsatisfactory reply. In the note Mavick had asked him to come +to Washington and spend a little time, if he had nothing better on hand, +as his guest. Perhaps no offense was intended, but the reply enraged +Jack. There was in the tone of the letter and in the manner of the +invitation a note of patronage that was unendurable. + +"Confound the fellow's impudence!" said Jack to himself; and he did not +answer the invitation. + +Personally his situation was desperate enough, but he was not inclined to +face it. In a sort of stupor he let the law take its course. There was +nothing left of his fortune, and his creditors were in possession of his +house and all it contained. "Do not try to keep anything back that +legally belongs to them," Edith had written when he informed her of this +last humiliation. Of course decency was observed. Jack's and Edith's +wardrobes, and some pieces of ancestral furniture that he pointed out as +belonging to his wife, were removed before the auction flag was hung out. +When this was over he still temporized. Edith's affectionate entreaties +to him to leave the dreadful city and come home were evaded on one plea +or another. He had wild schemes of going off West or South-- +of disappearing. Perhaps he would have luck somewhere. He couldn't ask +aid or seek occupation of his friends, but some place where he was not +known he felt that he might do something to regain his position, get some +situation, or make some money--lots of men had done it in a new country +and reinstate himself in Edith's opinion. + +But he did not go, and days and weeks went by in irresolution. No word +came from Carmen, and this humiliated Jack more than anything else--not +the loss of her friendship, but the remembrance that he had ever danced +attendance on her and trusted her. He was getting a good many wholesome +lessons in these days. + +One afternoon he called upon Miss Tavish. There was no change in her. +She received him with her usual gay cordiality, and with no affectation. + +"I didn't know what had become of you," she said. + +"I've been busy," he replied, with a faint attempt at a smile. + +"Yes, I know. It's been an awful time, what with Henderson's death and +everything else. Almost everybody has been hit. But," and she looked at +him cheerfully, "they will come up again; up and down; it is always so. +Why, even I got a little twist in that panic." The girl was doing what +she could in her way to cheer him up. + +"I think of going off somewhere to seek my fortune," said Jack, with a +rueful smile. + +"Oh, I hope not; your friends wouldn't like that. There is no place like +New York, I'm sure." And there was a real note of friendliness and +encouragement in her tone. "Only," and she gave him another bright +smile, "I think of running away from it myself, for a time. It's a +secret yet. Carmen wants me to go abroad with her." + +"I have not seen Mrs. Henderson since her husband's death. How is she?" + +"Oh, she bears up wonderfully. But then she has so much to do, poor +thing. And then the letters she gets, the begging letters. You've no +idea. I don't wonder she wants to go abroad. Don't stay away so long +again," she said as Jack rose to go. "And, oh, can't you come in to +dinner tomorrow night--just Carmen--I think I can persuade her--and +nobody else?" + +"I'm sorry that I have an engagement," Jack answered. + +"Well, some other time. Only soon." + +This call did Jack temporarily a world of good. It helped his self- +esteem. But it was only temporary. The black fact stared him in the +face every morning that he was ruined. And it came over him gradually +that he was a useless member of society. He never had done anything; he +was not trained or fitted to do anything. And this was impressed upon +him in the occasional attempts he made to get employment. He avoided as +much as possible contact with those who knew him. Shame prevented him +from applying to them for occupation, and besides he very well knew that +to those who knew him his idle career was no recommendation. Yet he +formed a habit of going down-town every day and looking for work. His +appearance commanded civility, but everywhere he met with refusal, and he +began to feel like a well-bred tramp. There had been in his mind before +no excuse for tramps. He could see now how they were made. + +It was not that he lacked capacity. He knew a great deal, in an +amateurish way, about pictures, books, bric-a-brac, and about society. +Why shouldn't he write? He visited the Loan Exhibition, and wrote a +careful criticism on the pictures and sent it to a well-known journal. +It was returned with thanks: the journal had its own art critic. He +prepared other articles about curious books, and one about porcelain and +pottery. They were all returned, except one which gave the history of a +rare bit of majolica, which had been picked up forty cents and then sold +for five hundred dollars, and was now owned by a collector who had paid +four thousand dollars for it. For that the newspaper sent him five +dollars. That was not encouraging, and his next effort for the same +journal was returned. Either he hadn't the newspaper knack, or the +competition was too great. + +He had ceased going to his club. It was too painful to meet his +acquaintances in his altered circumstances, and it was too expensive. +It even annoyed him to meet Major Fairfax. That philosopher had not +changed towards him any more than Miss Tavish had, but it was a +melancholy business to talk of his affairs, and to listen to the repeated +advice to go down to the country to Edith, and wait for some good +opening. That was just what he could not do. His whole frivolous life +he began now to see as she must have seen it. And it seemed to him that +he could only retain a remnant of his self-respect by doing something +that would reinstate him in her opinion. + +"Very well," said the Major, at the close of the last of their talks at +the club; "what are you going to do?" + +"I'm going into some business," said Jack, stiffly. + +"Have you spoken to any of your friends?" + +"No. It's no use," he said, bitterly; "they are all like me, or they +know me." + +"And hasn't your wife some relations who are in business?" + +"The last people I should apply to. No. I'm going to look around. +Major, do you happen to know a cheap lodging-house that is respectable?" + +"I don't know any that is not respectable," the Major replied, in a huffy +manner. + +"I beg your pardon," said Jack. "I want to reduce expenses." + +The Major did know of a place in the neighborhood where he lived. +He gave Jack the address, and thereafter the club and his usual resorts +knew him no more. + +As the days went by and nothing happened to break the monotony of his +waiting and his fruitless search, he became despondent. Day after day he +tramped about the city, among the business portions, and often on the +East Side, to see misery worse than his own. He had saved out of the +wreck his ample wardrobe, his watch, and some jewelry, and upon these he +raised money for his cheap lodgings and his cheap food. He grew careless +of his personal appearance. Every morning he rose and went about the +city, always with less hope, and every night he returned to his lodging, +but not always sober. + +One day he read the announcement that Mrs. Rodney Henderson and Miss +Tavish had sailed for Europe. That ended that chapter. What exactly he +had expected he could not say. Help from Carmen? Certainly not. But +there had never been a sign from her, nor any word from Mavick lately. +There evidently was nothing. He had been thrown over. Carmen evidently +had no more use for him. She had other plans. The thought that he had +been used and duped was almost more bitter than his loss. + +In after-days Jack looked back upon this time with a feeling akin to +thankfulness for Carmen's utter heartlessness in regard to his affairs. +He trembled to think what might have happened to him if she had sent for +him and consulted him and drawn him again into the fatal embrace of her +schemes and her fascinations. Now he was simply enraged when he thought +of her, and irritated with himself. + +These were dark days, days to which he looked back with a shudder. +He wrote to Edith frequently--a brief note. He was straightening out his +affairs; he was busy. But he did not give her his address, and he only +got her letters when the Major forwarded them from the club, which was +irregularly. A stranger, who met him at his lodgings or elsewhere, would +have said that he was an idle and rather dissipated-looking man. He was +idle, except in his feeble efforts to get work; he was worn and +discouraged, but he was not doing anything very bad. In his way of +looking at it, he was carrying out his notion of honor. He was only +breaking a woman's heart. + +He was conscious of little except his own misfortunes and misery. He did +not yet apprehend his own selfishness nor her nobility. He did not yet +comprehend the unselfishness of a good woman's love. + +On the East Side one day, as he was sauntering along Grand Street, he +encountered Dr. Leigh, his wife's friend, whom he had seen once at his +house. She did not at first recognize him until he stopped and spoke his +name. + +"Oh," she said, with surprise at seeing him, and at his appearance, +"I didn't expect to see you here. I thought everybody had gone from the +city. Perhaps you are going to the Neighborhood Guild?" + +"No," and Jack forced a little laugh, "I'm not so good as that. I'm kept +in town on business. I strolled over here to see how the other side of +life looks." + +"It doesn't improve. It is one of the worst summers I ever saw. Since +Mr. Henderson's death--" + +"What difference did Henderson's death make over here?" + +"Why, he had deposited a little fund for Father Damon to draw on, and the +day after his death the bank returned a small check with the notice that +there was no deposit to draw on. It had been such a help in +extraordinary cases. Perhaps you saw some allusion to it in the +newspapers?" + +"Wasn't it the Margaret Fund?" + +"Yes. Father Damon dropped a note to Mrs. Henderson explaining about it. +No reply came." + +"As he might have expected." Dr. Leigh looked up quickly as if for an +explanation, but Jack ignored the query, and went on. "And Father Damon, +is he as active as ever?" + +"He has gone." + +"What, left the city, quit his work? And the mission?" + +"I don't suppose he will ever quit his work while he lives, but he is +much broken down. The mission chapel is not closed, but a poor woman +told me that it seemed so." + +"And he will not return? Mrs. Delancy will be so sorry." + +"I think not. He is in retreat now, and I heard that he might go to +Baltimore. I thought of your wife. She was so interested in his work. +Is she well this summer?" + +"Yes, thank you," said Jack, and they parted. But as she went on her way +his altered appearance struck her anew, and she wondered what had +happened. + +This meeting with Mr. Delancy recalled most forcibly Edith, her interest +in the East Side work, her sympathy with Father Damon and the mission, +the first flush of those days of enthusiasm. When Father Damon began his +work the ladies used to come in their carriages to the little chapel with +flowers and money and hearts full of sympathy with the devoted priest. +Alone of all these Edith had been faithful in her visits, always, when +she was in town. And now the whole glittering show of charity had +vanished for the time, and Father Damon--The little doctor stopped, +consulted a memorandum in her hand-bag, looked up at the tenement-house +she was passing, and then began to climb its rickety stairway. + +Yes, Father Damon had gone, and Ruth Leigh simply went on with her work +as before. Perhaps in all the city that summer there was no other person +whose daily life was so little changed as hers. Others were driven away +by the heat, by temporary weariness, by the need of a vacation and change +of scene. Some charities and some clubs and schools were temporarily +suspended; other charities, befitting the name, were more active, the +very young children were most looked after, and the Good Samaritans of +the Fresh-Air Funds went about everywhere full of this new enthusiasm of +humanity. But the occupation of Ruth Leigh remained always the same, +in a faithful pertinacity that nothing could wholly discourage, in a +routine that no projects could kindle into much enthusiasm. Day after +day she went about among the sick and the poor, relieving and counseling +individuals, and tiring herself out in that personal service, and more +and more conscious, when she had time, at night, for instance, to think, +of the monstrous injustice somewhere, and at times in a mood of fierce +revolt against the social order that made all this misery possible and +hopeless. + +Yet a great change had come into her life--the greatest that can come to +any man or woman in the natural order. She loved and she was loved. +An ideal light had been cast upon her commonplace existence, the depths +of her own nature had been revealed to herself. In this illuminating +light she walked about in the misery of this world. This love must be +denied, this longing of the heart for companionship could never be +gratified, yet after all it was a sweet self-sacrifice, and the love +itself brought its own consolation. She had not to think of herself as +weak, and neither was her lover's image dimmed to her by any surrender of +his own principle or his own ideal. She saw him, as she had first seen +him, a person consecrated and set apart, however much she might disagree +with his supernatural vagaries--set apart to the service of humanity. +She had bitter thoughts sometimes of the world, and bitter thoughts of +the false system that controlled his conduct, but never of him. + +It was unavoidable that she should recall her last interview with him, +and that the image of his noble, spiritual face should be ever distinct +in her mind. And there was even a certain comfort in this recollection. + +Father Damon had indeed striven, under the counsel of his own courage and +of Brother Monies, to conquer himself on the field of his temptation. +But with his frail physique it was asking too much. This at last was so +evident that the good brother advised him, and the advice was in the +nature of a command in his order, to retire for a while, and then take up +his work in a fresh field. + +When this was determined on, his desire was nearly irresistible to see +Ruth Leigh; he thought it would be cowardly to disappear and not say +good-by. Indeed, it was necessary to see her and explain the stoppage of +help from the Margaret Fund. The check that he had drawn, which was +returned, had been for one of Dr. Leigh's cases. With his failure to +elicit any response from Mrs. Henderson, the hope, raised by the +newspaper comments on the unexecuted will, that the fund would be renewed +was dissipated. + +In the interview which Father Damon sought with Dr. Leigh at the Women's +Hospital all this was explained, and ways and means were discussed for +help elsewhere. + +"I wanted to talk this over with you," said Father Damon, "because I am +going away to take a rest." + +"You need it, Father Damon," was Ruth's answer, in a professional manner. + +"And--and," he continued, with some hesitation, "probably I shall not +return to this mission." + +"Perhaps that will be best," she said, simply, but looking up at him now, +with a face full of tender sympathy. + +"I am sure of it," he replied, turning away from her gaze. "The fact is, +doctor, I am a little hipped--overworked, and all that. I shall pull +myself together with a little rest. But I wanted to tell you how much I +appreciate your work, and--and what a comfort you have been to me in my +poor labors. I used to hope that some time you would see this world in +relation to the other, and--" + +"Yes, I know," she interrupted, hastily, "I cannot think as you do, +but--" And she could not go on for a great lump in her throat. +Involuntarily she rose from her seat. The interview was too trying. +Father Damon rose also. There was a moment's painful silence as they +looked in each other's faces. Neither could trust the voice for speech. +He took her hand and pressed it, and said "God bless you!" and went out, +closing the door softly. + +A moment after he opened it again and stood on the threshold. She was in +her chair, her head bowed upon her arms on the table. As he spoke she +looked up, and she never forgot the expression of his face. + +"I want to say, Ruth"--he had never before called her by her first name, +and his accent thrilled her--"that I shall pray for you as I pray for +myself, and though I may never see you again in this world, the greatest +happiness that can come to me in this life will be to hear that you have +learned to say Our Father which art in heaven." + +As she looked he was gone, and his last words remained a refrain in her +mind that evening and afterwards--"Our Father which art in heaven"-- +a refrain recurring again and again in all her life, inseparable from the +memory of the man she loved. + + + + +XXII + +Along the Long Island coast lay the haze of early autumn. It was the +time of lassitude. In the season of ripening and decay Nature seemed to +have lost her spring, and lay in a sort of delicious languor. Sea and +shore were in a kind of truce, and the ocean south wind brought cool +refreshment but no incentive. + +From the sea the old brown farmhouse seemed a snug haven of refuge; from +the inland road it appeared, with its spreading, sloping roofs, like an +ancient sea-craft come ashore, which had been covered in and then +embowered by kindly Nature with foliage. In those days its golden-brown +color was in harmony with the ripening orchards and gardens. + +Surely, if anywhere in the world, peace was here. But to its owner this +very peace and quietness was becoming intolerable. The waiting days were +so long, the sleepless nights of uncertainty were so weary. When her +work was done, and Edith sat with a book or some sewing under the arbor +where the grape clusters hung, growing dark and transparent, and the boy +played about near her, she had a view of the blue sea, and about her were +the twitter of birds and the hum of the cicada. The very beauty made her +heart ache. Seaward there was nothing--nothing but the leaping little +waves and the sky. From the land side help might come at any hour, and +at every roll of wheels along the road her heart beat faster and hope +sprang up anew. But day after day nothing came. + +Perhaps there is no greater bravery than this sort of waiting, doing the +daily duty and waiting. Endurance is woman's bravery, and Edith was +enduring, with an almost broken but still with a courageous heart. It +was all so strange. Was it simply shame that kept him away, or had he +ceased to love her? If the latter, there was no help for her. She had +begged him to come, she had offered to leave the boy with her cousin +companion and go to him. Perhaps it was pride only. In one of his short +letters he had said, "Thank God, your little fortune is untouched." +If it were pride only, how could she overcome it? Of this she thought +night and day. She thought, and she was restless, feverish, and growing +thin in her abiding anxiety. + +It was true that her own fortune was safe and in her control. But with +the usual instinct of women who know they have an income not likely to be +ever increased, she began to be economical. She thought not of herself; +but of the boy. It was the boy's fortune now. She began to look sharply +after expenses; she reduced her household; she took upon herself the care +of the boy, and other household duties. This was all well for her, for +it occupied her time, and to some extent diverted her thoughts. + +So the summer passed--a summer of anxiety, longing, and dull pain for +Edith. The time came when the uncertainty of it could no longer be +endured. If Jack had deserted her, even if he should die, she could +order her life and try to adjust her heavy burden. But this uncertainty +was quite beyond her power to sustain. + +She made up her mind that she would go to the city and seek him. It was +what he had written that she must not on any account do, but nothing that +could happen to her there could be so bad as this suspense. Perhaps she +could bring him back. If he refused, and was angry at her interference, +that even would be something definite. And then she had carefully +thought out another plan. It might fail, but some action had now become +for her a necessity. + +Early one morning--it was in September-she prepared for a journey to the +city. This little trip, which thousands of people made daily, took on +for her the air of an adventure. She had been immured so long that it +seemed a great undertaking. And when she bade good-by to the boy for the +day she hugged him and kissed him again and again, as if it were to be an +eternal farewell. To her cousin were given the most explicit directions +for his care, and after she had started for the train she returned to +give further injunctions. So she told herself, but it was really for one +more look at the boy. + +But on the whole there was a certain exhilaration in the preparation and +the going, and her spirits rose as they had not done in months before. +Arrived in the city, she drove at once to the club Jack most frequented. +"He is not in," the porter said; "indeed, Mr. Delancy has not been here +lately." + +"Is Major Fairfax in?" Edith asked. + +Major Fairfax was in, and he came out immediately to her carriage. +From him she learned Jack's address, and drove to his lodging-house. +The Major was more than civil; he was disposed to be sympathetic, but he +had the tact to see that Mrs. Delancy did not wish to be questioned, nor +to talk. + +"Is Mr. Delancy at home?" she asked the small boy who ran the elevator. + +"No'me." + +"And he did not say where he was going?" + +"No'me." + +"Is he not sometimes at home in the daytime?" + +"No'me." + +"And what time does he usually come home in the evening?" + +"Don't know. After I've gone, I guess." + +Edith hesitated whether she should leave a card or a note, but she +decided not to do either, and ordered the cabman to take her to Pearl +Street, to the house of Fletcher & Co. + +Mr. Fletcher, the senior partner, was her cousin, the son of her father's +elder brother, and a man now past sixty years. Circumstances had carried +the families apart socially since the death of her father and his +brother, but they were on the most friendly terms, and the ties of blood +were not in any way weakened. Indeed, although Edith had seen Gilbert +Fletcher only a few times since her marriage, she felt that she could go +to him any time if she were in trouble, with the certainty of sympathy +and help. He had the reputation of the old-fashioned New York merchants, +to whom her father belonged, for integrity and conservatism. + +It was to him that she went now. The great shop, or wholesale warehouse +rather, into which she entered from the narrow and cart-encumbered +street, showed her at once the nature of the business of Fletcher & Co. +It was something in the twine and cordage way. There were everywhere +great coils of ropes and bales of twine, and the dark rooms had a tarry +smell. Mr. Fletcher was in his office, a little space partitioned off +in the rear, with half a dozen clerks working by gaslight, and a little +sanctum where the senior partner was commonly found at his desk. + +Mr. Fletcher was a little, round-headed man, with a shrewd face, vigorous +and cheerful, thoroughly a man of business, never speculating, and who +had been slowly gaining wealth by careful industry and cautious extension +of his trade. Certain hours of the day--from ten to three--he gave to +his business. It was a habit, and it was a habit that he enjoyed. He +had now come back, as he told Edith, from a little holiday at the sea, +where his family were, to get into shape for the fall trade. + +Edith was closeted with him for a full hour. When she came out her eyes +were brighter and her step more elastic. At sundown she reached home, +almost in high spirits. And when she snatched up the boy and hugged him, +she whispered in his ear, "Baby, we have done it, and we shall see." + +One night when Jack returned from his now almost aimless tramping about +the city he found a letter on his table. It seemed from the printing on +the envelope to be a business letter; and business, in the condition he +was in--and it was the condition in which he usually came home--did not +interest him. He was about to toss the letter aside, when the name of +Fletcher caught his eye, and he opened it. + +It was a brief note, written on an office memorandum, which simply asked +Mr. Delancy to call at the office as soon as it was convenient, as the +writer wished to talk with him on a matter of business, and it was signed +"Gilbert Fletcher." + +"Why don't he say what his business is?" said Jack, throwing the letter +down impatiently. "I am not going to be hauled over the coals by any of +the Fletchers." And he tumbled into bed in an injured and yet +independent frame of mind. + +But the next morning he reread the formal little letter in a new light. +To be sure, it was from Edith's cousin. He knew him very well; he was +not a person to go out of his way to interfere with anybody, and more +than likely it was in relation to Edith's affairs that he was asked to +call. That thought put a new aspect on the matter. Of course if it +concerned her interests he ought to go. He dressed with unusual care for +him in these days, breakfasted at the cheap restaurant which he +frequented, and before noon was in the Fletcher warehouse in Pearl +Street. + +He had never been there before, and he was somewhat curious to see what +sort of a place it was where Gilbert carried on the string business, +as he used to call it when speaking to Edith of her cousin's occupation. +It was a much more dingy and smelly place than he expected, but the carts +about the doors, and the bustle of loading and unloading, of workmen +hauling and pulling, and of clerks calling out names and numbers to be +registered and checked, gave him the impression that it was not a dull +place. + +Mr. Fletcher received him in the little dim back office with a cordial +shake of the hand, gave him a chair, and reseated himself, pushing back +the papers in front of him with the air of a very busy man who was +dropping for a moment one thing in order to give his mind promptly to +another. + +"Our fall trade is just starting up," he said, "and it keeps us all +pretty busy." + +"Yes," said Jack. "I could drop in any other time--" + +"No, no," interrupted Mr. Fletcher; "it is just because I am busy that I +wanted to see you. Are you engaged in anything?" + +"Nothing in particular," replied Jack, hesitating. "I'd thought of going +into some business." And then, after a pause: "It's no use to mince +matters. You know--everybody knows, I suppose--that I got hit in that +Henderson panic." + +"So did lots of others," replied Mr. Fletcher, cheerfully. "Yes, I know +about it. And I'm not sure but it was a lucky thing for me." He spoke +still more cheerfully, and Jack looked at him inquiringly. + +"Are you open to an offer?" + +"I'm open to almost anything," Jack answered, with a puzzled look. + +"Well," and Mr. Fletcher settled back in his chair, "I can give you the +situation in five minutes. I've been in this business over thirty years +--yes; over thirty-five years. It has grown, little by little, until +it's a pretty big business. I've a partner, a first-rate man--he is in +Europe now--who attends to most of the buying. And the business keeps +spreading out, and needs more care. I'm not as young as I was I shall be +sixty-four in October--and I can't work right along as I used to. I find +that I come later and go away earlier. It isn't the 'work exactly, but +the oversight, the details; and the fact is that I want somebody near me +whom I can trust, whether I'm here or whether I'm away. I've got good, +honest, faithful clerks--if there was one I did not trust, I wouldn't +have him about. But do you know, Jack," it was the first time in the +interview that he had used this name--"there is something in blood." + +"Yes," Jack assented. + +"Well, I want a confidential clerk. That's it." + +"Me?" he asked. He was thinking rapidly while Mr. Fletcher had been +speaking; something like a revolution was taking place in his mind, and +when he asked this, the suggestion took on a humorous aspect--a humorous +view of anything had not occurred to him in months. + +"You are just the man." + +"I can be confidential," Jack rejoined, with the old smile on his face +that had been long a stranger to it, "but I don't know that I can be a +clerk." + +Mr. Fletcher was good enough to laugh at this pleasantry. + +"That's all right. It isn't much of a position. We can make the salary +twenty-five hundred dollars for a starter. Will you try it?" + +Jack got up and went to the area window, and looked out a moment upon the +boxes in the dim court. Then he came back and stood by Mr. Fletcher, and +put his hand on the desk. + +"Yes, I'll try." + +"Good. When will you begin?" + +"Now." + +"That's good. No time like now. Wait a bit, and I'll show you about the +place before we go to lunch. You'll get hold of the ropes directly." + +This was Mr. Fletcher's veteran joke. + +At three o'clock Mr. Fletcher closed his desk. It was time to take his +train. "Tomorrow, then," he said, "we will begin in earnest." + +"What are the business hours here?" asked Jack. + +"Oh, I am usually here from ten to three, but the business hours are from +nine till the business is done. By-the-way, why not run out with me and +spend the night, and we can talk the thing over?" + +There was no reason why he should not go, and he went. And that was the +way John Corlear Delancy was initiated in the string business in the old +house of Fletcher & Co. + + + + +XXII + +Few battles are decisive, and perhaps least of all those that are won by +a sudden charge or an accident, and not as the result of long-maturing +causes. Doubtless the direction of a character or a career is often +turned by a sudden act of the will or a momentary impotence of the will. +But the battle is not over then, nor without long and arduous fighting, +often a dreary, dragging struggle without the excitement of novelty. + +It was comparatively easy for Jack Delancy in Mr. Fletcher's office to +face about suddenly and say yes to the proposal made him. There was on +him the pressure of necessity, of his own better nature acting under a +sense of his wife's approval; and besides, there was a novelty that +attracted him in trying something absolutely new to his habits. + +But it was one thing to begin, and another, with a man of his +temperament, to continue. To have regular hours, to attend to the +details of a traffic that was to the last degree prosaic, in short, to +settle down to hard work, was a very different thing from the "business" +about which Jack and his fellows at the club used to talk so much, and to +fancy they were engaged in. When the news came to the Union that Delancy +had gone into the house of Fletcher & Co. as a clerk, there was a general +smile, and a languid curiosity expressed as to how long he would stick to +it. + +In the first day or two Jack was sustained not only by the original +impulse, but by a real instinct in learning about business ways and +details that were new to him. To talk about the business and about the +markets, to hear plans unfolded for extension and for taking advantage of +fluctuations in prices, was all very well; but the drudgery of details-- +copying, comparing invoices, and settling into the routine of a clerk's +life, even the life of a confidential clerk--was contrary to the habits +of his whole life. It was not to be expected that these habits would be +overcome without a long struggle and many back-slidings. + +The little matter of being at his office desk at nine o'clock in the +morning began to seem a hardship after the first three or four days. +For Mr. Fletcher not to walk into his shop on the stroke of ten would +have been such a reversal of his habits as to cause him as much annoyance +as it caused Jack to be bound to a fixed hour. It was only the +difference in training. But that is saying everything. + +Besides, while the details of his work, the more he got settled in them, +were not to his taste, he was daily mortified to find himself ignorant of +matters which the stupidest clerk in the office seemed to know by +instinct. This acted, however, as a sort of stimulus, and touched his +pride. He determined that he would not be humiliated in this way, and +during office hours he worked as diligently as Mr. Fletcher could have +desired. He had pledged himself to the trial, and he summoned all his +intelligence to back his effort. + +And it is true that the satisfaction of having a situation, of doing +something, the relief to the previous daily anxiety and almost despair, +raised his spirits. It was only when he thought of the public opinion of +his little world, of some other occupation more befitting his education, +of the vast change from his late life of ease and luxury to this of daily +labor with a clerk's pay, that he had hours of revolt and cursed his +luck. + +No, Jack's battle was not won in a day, or a week, or a year. And before +it was won he needed more help than his own somewhat irresolute will +could give. It is the impression of his biographer that he would have +failed in the end if he had been married to a frivolous and selfish +woman. + +Mr. Fletcher was known as a very strict man of business, and as little +else. But he was a good judge of character, and under his notions of +discipline and of industry he was a kindly man, as his clerks, who feared +his sharp oversight, knew. And besides, he had made a compact with +Edith, for whom he had something more than family affection, and he +watched Jack's efforts to adjust himself to the new life with sympathy. +If it was an experiment for Jack, it was also an experiment for him, +the result of which gave him some anxiety. The situation was not a very +heroic one, but a life is often decided for good or ill by as +insignificant a matter as Jack's ability to persevere in learning about +the twine and cordage trade. This was a day of trial, and the element of +uncertainty in it kept both Mr. Fletcher and Jack from writing of the new +arrangement to Edith, for fear that only disappointment to her would be +the ultimate result. Jack's brief notes to her were therefore, as usual, +indefinite, but with the hint that he was beginning to see a way out of +his embarrassment. + +After the passage of a couple of weeks, during which Mr. Fletcher had +been quietly studying his new clerk, he suddenly said to him, one +Saturday morning, after they had looked over and estimated the orders by +the day's mail, "Jack, I think you'd better let up a little, and run down +and see Edith." + +"Oh!" said Jack, a little startled by the proposal, but recovering +himself; "I didn't suppose the business could spare me." + +"I didn't mean a vacation, but run down for over Sunday. It must be +lovely there, and the change will make you as keen as a brier for +business. It always does me. Stay over Monday if the weather is good. +I have to be away myself the week after." As Jack hesitated and did not +reply, Mr. Fletcher continued: + +"I really think you'd better go, Jack. You have hardly had a breath of +fresh air this summer. There's plenty of time to go up-town and get your +grip and catch the afternoon train." + +Jack was still silent. The thought of seeing Edith created a tumult in +his mind. It seemed as if he were not quite ready, not exactly settled. +He had been procrastinating so long, putting off going, on one pretext or +another, that he had fallen into a sort of fear of going. At first, +absorbed in his speculations, enthralled by the company of Carmen and the +luxurious, easy-going view of life that her society created for him; he +had felt Edith and his house as an irritating restraint. Later, when the +smash came, he had been still more relieved that she was out of town. +And finally he had fallen into a reckless apathy, and had made himself +believe that he never would see her again until some stroke of fortune +should set him on his feet and restore his self-respect. + +But since he had been with Fletcher & Co. his feelings had gradually +undergone a change. With a regular occupation and regular hours, and in +contact with the sensible mind and business routine of Mr. Fletcher, he +began to have saner views of life, and to realize that Edith would +approve what he was now attempting to do much more than any effort to +relieve himself by speculation. + +As soon as he felt himself a little more firmly established, a little +more sure of himself, he would go to Edith, and confess everything, and +begin life anew. This had been his mood, but he was still irresolute, +and it needed some outside suggestion to push him forward to overcome his +lingering reluctance to go home. + +But this had come suddenly. It seemed to him at first thought that he +needed time to prepare for it. Mr. Fletcher pulled out his watch. +"There is a later train at four. Take that, and we will get some lunch +first." + +An hour of postponement was such a relief! Why, of course he could go at +four. And instantly his heart leaped up with desire. + +"All right," he said, as he rose and closed his desk. "But I think I'd +better not stay for lunch. I want to get something for the boy on my way +uptown." + +"Very good. Tuesday, then. My best regards to Edith." + +As Jack came down the stairway from the elevated road at Twenty-third +Street he ran against a man who was hurrying up--a man in a pronounced +traveling-suit, grip-sack and umbrella in hand, and in haste. It was +Mavick. Recognition was instantaneous, and it was impossible for either +to avoid the meeting if he had desired to do so. + +"You in town!" said Mavick. + +"And you!" Jack retorted. + +"No, not really. I'm just going to catch the steamer. Short leave. We +have all been kept by that confounded Chile business." + +"Going for the government?" + +"No, not publicly. Of course shall confer with our minister in London. +Any news here?" + +"Yes; Henderson's dead." And Jack looked Mavick squarely in the face. + +"Ah!" And Mavick smiled faintly, and then said, gravely: "It was an awful +business. So sudden, you know, that I couldn't do anything." He made a +movement to pass on. "I suppose there has been no--no--" + +"I suppose not," said Jack, "except that Mrs. Henderson has gone to +Europe." + +"Ah!" And Mr. Mavick didn't wait for further news, but hurried up, with a +"Good-by." + +So Mavick was following Carmen to Europe. Well, why not? What an unreal +world it all was, that of a few months ago! The gigantic Henderson; +Jack's own vision of a great fortune; Carmen and her house of Nero; the +astute and diplomatic Mavick, with his patronizing airs! It was like a +scene in a play. + +He stepped into a shop and selected a toy for the boy. It was a real +toy, and it was for a real boy. Jack experienced a genuine pleasure at +the thought of pleasing him. Perhaps the little fellow would not know +him. + +And then he thought of Edith--not of Edith the mother, but of Edith the +girl in the days of his wooing. And he went into Maillard's. +The pretty girl at the counter knew him. He was an old customer, and she +had often filled orders for him. She had despatched many a costly box to +addresses he had given her. It was in the recollection of those +transactions that he said: "A box of marrons glaces, please. My wife +prefers that." + +"Shall I send it?" asked the girl, when she had done it up. + +"No, thanks; we are not in town." + +"Of course," she said, beaming upon him; "nobody is yet." + +And this girl also seemed a part of the old life, with her little +affectation of familiarity with its ways. + +He went to his room--it seemed a very mean little room now--packed his +bag, told the janitor he should be absent a few days, and hurried to the +ferry and the train as if he feared that some accident would delay him. +When he was seated and the train moved off, his thoughts took another +turn. He was in for it now. + +He began to regret that he had not delayed, to think it all out more +thoroughly; perhaps it would have been better to have written. + +He bought an evening journal, but he could not read it. What he read +between the lines was his own life. What a miserable failure! What a +mess he had made of his own affairs, and how unworthy of such a woman as +Edith he had been! How indifferent he had been to her happiness in the +pursuit of his own pleasure! How would she receive him? He could hardly +doubt that; but she must know, she must have felt cruelly his +estrangement. What if she met him with a royal forgiveness, as if he +were a returned prodigal? He couldn't stand that. If now he were only +going back with his fortune recovered, with brilliant prospects to spread +before her, and could come into the house in his old playful manner, with +the assumed deference of the master, and say: "Well, Edith dear, the +storm is over. It's all right now. I am awfully glad to get home. +Where's the rascal of an heir?" + +Instead of that, he was going with nothing, humiliated, a clerk in a +twine-store. And not much of a clerk at that, he reflected, with his +ready humorous recognition of the situation. + +And yet he was for the first time in his life earning his living. Edith +would like that. He had known all along that his idle life had been a +constant grief to her. No, she would not reproach him; she never did +reproach him. No doubt she would be glad that he was at work. But, oh, +the humiliation of the whole thing! At one moment he was eager to see +her, and the next the rattling train seemed to move too fast, and he +welcomed every wayside stop that delayed his arrival. But even the Long +Island trains arrive some time, and all too soon the cars slowed up at +the familiar little station, and Jack got out. + +"Quite a stranger in these parts, Mr. Delancy," was the easy salutation +of the station-keeper. + +"Yes. I've been away. All right down here?" + +"Right as a trivet. Hot summer, though. Calculate it's goin' to be a +warm fall--generally is." + +It was near sunset. When the train had moved on, and its pounding on the +rails became a distant roar and then was lost altogether, the country +silence so impressed Jack, as he walked along the road towards the sea, +that he became distinctly conscious of the sound of his own footsteps. +He stopped and listened. Yes, there were other sounds--the twitter of +birds in the bushes by the roadside, the hum of insects, and the faint +rhythmical murmur of lapsing waves on the shore. + +And now the house came in view--first the big roof, and then the latticed +windows, the balconies, where there were pots of flowers, and then the +long veranda with its hammocks and climbing vines. There was a pink tone +in the distant water answering to the flush in the sky, and away to the +west the sand-dune that made out into the Sound was a point of light. + +But the house! Jack's steps were again arrested. The level last rays of +the disappearing sun flashed upon the window-panes so that they glowed +like painted windows illuminated from within, with a reddish lustre, and +the roofs and the brown sides of the building, painted by those great +masters in color, the sun and the sea-wind, in that moment were like +burnished gold. Involuntarily Jack exclaimed: + +"It is the Golden House!" + +He made his way through the little fore yard. No one was about. The +veranda was deserted. There was Edith's work-basket; there were the +baby's playthings. The door stood open, and as he approached it he heard +singing--not singing, either, but a fitful sort of recitation, with the +occasional notes of an accompaniment struck as if in absence of mind. +The tune he knew, and as he passed through the first room towards the +sitting-room that looked on the sea he caught a line: + +"Wely, wely, but love is bonny, for a little while--when it is new." + +It was an old English ballad, the ballad of the "Cockle-shells," that +Edith used to sing often in the old days, when its note of melancholy +seemed best to express her happiness. It was only that line, and the +voice seemed to break, and there was silence. + +He stole along and looked in. There was Edith, seated, her head bowed on +her hands, at the piano. + +In an instant, before she could turn to the sound of his quick footsteps, +he was at her side, kneeling, his head bowed in the folds of her dress. + +"Edith! I've been such a fool!" + +She turned, slid from her seat, and was kneeling also, with her arms +thrown about his neck. + +"Oh, Jack! You've come. Thank God! Thank God!" + +And presently they stood, and his arms were still around her, and she was +looking up into his face, with her hands on his shoulders, and saying +"You've come to stay." + +"Yes, dear, forever." + + + + +XXIV + +The whole landscape was golden, the sea was silver, on that October +morning. It was the brilliant decline of the year. Edith stood with +Jack on the veranda. He had his grip-sack in hand and was equipped for +town. Both were silent in the entrancing scene. + +The birds, twittering in the fruit-trees and over the vines, had the air +of an orchestra, the concerts of the season over, gathering their +instruments and about to depart. One could detect in the lapse of the +waves along the shore the note of weariness preceding the change into the +fretfulness and the tumult of tempests. In the soft ripening of the +season there was peace and hope, but it was the hope of another day. The +curtain was falling on this. + +Was life beginning, then, or ending? If life only could change and renew +itself like the seasons, with the perpetually recurring springs! But +youth comes only once, and thereafter the man gathers the fruit of it, +sweet or bitter. + +Jack was not given to moralizing, but perhaps a subtle suggestion of this +came to him in the thought that an enterprise, a new enterprise, might +have seemed easier in May, when the forces of nature were with him, than +in October. There was something, at least, that fell in with his mood, a +mood of acquiescence in failure, in this closing season of the year, when +he stood empty-handed in the harvest-time. + +"Edith," he said, as they paced down the walk which was flaming with +scarlet and crimson borders, and turned to look at the peaceful brown +house, "I hate to go." + +"But you are not going," said Edith, brightly. "I feel all the time as +if you were just coming back. Jack, do you know," and she put her hand +on his shoulder, "this is the sweetest home in the world now!" + +"It is the only one, dear;" and Jack made the statement with a humorous +sense of its truth. "Well, there's the train, and I'm off with the other +clerks." + +"Clerk, indeed!" cried Edith, putting up her face to his; "you are going +to be a Merchant Prince, Jack, that is what you are going to be." + +On the train there was an atmosphere of business. Jack felt that he was +not going to the New York that he knew--not to his New York, but to a +city of traffic; down into the streets of commercial enterprise, not at +all to the metropolis of leisure, of pleasure, to the world of clubs and +drawing-rooms and elegant loiterings and the rivalries of society life. +That was all ended. Jack was hurrying to catch the down-town car for the +dingy office of Fletcher & Co. at an hour fixed. + +It was ended, to be sure, but the struggle with Jack in his new life was +not ended, his biographer knows, for months and years. + +It was long before he could pass his club windows without a pang of +humiliation, or lift his hat to a lady of his acquaintance in her passing +carriage without a vivid feeling of separateness from his old life. For +the old life--he could see that any day in the Avenue, any evening by the +flaming lights--went by in its gilded chariots and entrancing toilets, +the fascinating whirl of Vanity Fair crowned with roses and with ennui. +Did he regret it? No doubt. Not to regret would have been to change his +nature, and that were a feat impossible for his biographer to accomplish. +In a way his life was gone, and to build up a new life, serene and +enduring, was not the work of a day. + +One thing he did not regret in the shock he had received, and that was +the absence of Carmen and her world. When he thought of her he had a +sense of escape. She was still abroad, and he heard from time to time +that Mavick was philandering about from capital to capital in her train. +Certainly he would have envied neither of them if he had been aware, as +the reader is aware, of the guilty secret that drew them together and +must be forever their torment. They knew each other. + +But this glittering world, to attain a place in which is the object of +most of the struggles and hungry competition of modern life, seemed not +so real nor so desirable when he was at home with Edith, and in his +gradually growing interest in nobler pursuits. They had decided to take +a modest apartment in town for the winter, and almost before the lease +was signed, Edith, in her mind, had transformed it into a charming home. +Jack used to rally her on her enthusiasm in its simple furnishing; it +reminded him, he said, of Carmen's interest in her projected house of +Nero. It was a great contrast, to be sure, to their stately house by the +Park, but it was to them both what that had never been. To one who knows +how life goes astray in the solicitations of the great world, there was +something pathetic in Edith's pleasure. Even to Jack it might some day +come with the force of keen regret for years wasted, that it is enough to +break a body's heart to see how little a thing can make a woman happy. + +It was another summer. Major Fairfax had come down with Jack to spend +Sunday at the Golden House. Edith was showing the Major the view from +the end of the veranda. Jack was running through the evening paper. +"Hi!" he cried; "here's news. Mavick is to have the mission to Rome, and +it is rumored that the rich and accomplished Mrs. Henderson, as the wife +of the minister, will make the Roman season very gay." + +"It's too bad," said Edith. "Nothing is said about the training-school?" + +"Nothing." "Poor Henderson!" was the Major's comment. "It was for this +that he drudged and schemed and heaped up his colossal fortune! His life +must look to him like a burlesque." + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of The Golden House +by Charles Dudley Warner + diff --git a/old/cwgld11.zip b/old/cwgld11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0952581 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cwgld11.zip |